#Hyper Energy Battery

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Llega a México el OPPO A80 5G, alta durabilidad con entretenimiento mejorado por IA

Continue reading Llega a México el OPPO A80 5G, alta durabilidad con entretenimiento mejorado por IA

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“What’s this? “20% percent warning.” Dr. Wollenstonecraft must’ve added a feature to alert me of when I’m low in charge. I have been up for two days…”

“”Low battery mode.” I’m assuming this helps reserve energy. I’ll try it—… oh.”

*Adam proceeds to loose half of his processing speed and capacity. He casually sits on the couch.*

“… is this robot depression.”

[aria0fgold]

GOOOODD IM SO HYPER TODAY ITS 4 AM I NEED TO SLEEP BUT I FEEL SO SO ENERGETIC

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto Profile

Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto x reader

TW: kidnapping, possessiveness, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation, allusions to somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, emotional manipulation, Ko uses you as his emotional support system, delusional behavior, nonconsensual physical affection/touch, vague allusions to non-con, mentions of physical abuse, Kotarou is extremely emotionally needy and physically touchy and just generally quite a handful, mentions of insecurity, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE: 

Introverted  

Koutarou is a lot. He knows it, his team knows it, hell, the entire league knows it.

His energy is difficult to match; he’s a ray of sunshine, blinding yet impossible to look away from, someone with boundless amounts of energy, someone friendly and extraverted to an almost extreme.

Because he is so rambunctious and loud, he would actually really enjoy a partner who mellows him out a bit more, someone who isn’t constantly hyper and talkative and wanting to spend hours on end with other people.

He works well with Akaashi; who is quiet, calm and not as talkative, and his darling would likely reflect that in many ways – the serenity, the sense of peace and calmness, the idea that they aren’t constantly jumping with energy, constantly bursting at the seams to go do something.

Ideally though, he’d enjoy a partner who is still willing to talk, who’s willing to indulge him in conversation and compliment him and give him that adorable smile, just not a social butterfly like himself. It makes him feel privileged, special because his darling wants to speak to him, that they’re using their precious social battery on him him him.

He’s in awe that they start conversations with him; his darling, who so often doesn’t utter a word around crazy people such as himself, who sees someone as hyper as him and immediately run for the hills.

It makes his ego flare, and he can’t deny how adorable they are when they get embarrassed at his attention, when they roll their eyes and shove his shoulder lightly, when they freeze and cower as he loudly proclaims his love for them in the middle of the movie theater and everyone looks over.

He loves it, and it’s a nice bonus that it cuts down his competition - less dirty work for him, something Koutarou is very thankful for.

Creative

Volleyball is Kotarou’s life, and as a result he hasn’t had much time to explore anything outside of it. He’s never really tried his hand at painting, playing an instrument, baking, or really any other hobby.

And of course he loves the sport dearly, but there’s something alluring to the idea of a darling that’s invested in something so completely different from himself.

It doesn’t matter what the hobby is - cooking, drawing, writing, singing, it could be anything at all.

But once Kotarou finds out his darling enjoys it, suddenly he becomes obsessed with it, wanting to learn as much as he can and hone as many talents within it as possible. In his eyes, everything his darling does is perfect, so the thing that they love most (aside from him, of course) must be amazing, right? It must be worth his time to learn about it and become familiar with it, if only just to impress his darling, if only just to share even a scrap of the love they feel for it.

He’ll beg and pester his darling to teach him, constantly asking questions and carefully watching their answers.

Because rally, while Kotarou develops an interest in the activity because of his darling’s love, he also becomes familiar with the hobby because he lives for the way their eyes light up when they’re concentrating. They look absolutely gorgeous, even more beautiful than normal, something sparkling in their eyes.

His knees grow weak when he sees them biting their lip or sticking out their tongue in concentration, his feelings only growing ten-fold and becoming stronger because it’s just so incredibly endearing that his darling has something they love enough to be this devoted.

They get this ethereal glow about them and Kotarou genuinely can’t take his eyes off of them when they’re in that mode.

And so instead of listening to their instructions, he finds himself drifting into fantasies of them finally getting that glow and radiance when thinking about him. It’s what fuels him, what gives him energy.

He just wants his darling to adore him in the way that he adores them.

Nurturing

If his darling is anything, they have to be supportive.

Poor Kotarou is in constant need of reassurance, and his darling has to be willing to put up with that. They have to be willing to deal with the emotional labor of constantly praising him, of telling him wonderfully talented he is, how funny, how charming, how handsome, any and all compliments they can think of.

Their kind words go straight to his heart, making his body feel fuzzy and warm, an unstoppable grin stretches across his face and his words excited as he asks them really? Are you sure?

He’s overwhelmed by the idea of his darling thinking such thoughts about him - they think he’s strong? They think he’s talented? They think he’s amazing?

Needless to say, a few simple words of praise from his darling are enough to get Kotarou’s entire mood shifting, his metaphoric feathers ruffling and a pleasant, gooey feeling in his heart making him feel lighter than air because oh, they think he’s attractive and fun to be around?

He loves how easily they’re able to make him feel good about himself, and he can only hope to return the favor.

As a result, he’ll compliment his darling often, completely out of the blue and about odd, but strangely endearing things. He just wants them to feel how good they make him feel, and he’ll do anything to get them there. 

Competitive

While his darling needs to be someone capable of spilling praise at a moment’s notice, Kotarou also finds himself attracted to those who has a healthy sense of competition in life.

As a professional athlete, he takes competition very seriously, and is also the type to find that a bit of competition is the perfect thing to spice up a relationship. He loves the idea of having a friendly rivalry with his darling – perhaps at something entirely stupid, like mini-golf or slugbugging or something equally childish.

Regardless, he likes the idea of his darling and him being playful together, of having someone he can establish that teasing rapport with. Besides, while he can sometimes be a bit of an emotional wreck, Kotarou finds emotional intelligence extremely attractive.

Thus, having a partner that’s capable of gracefully winning and losing is wildly attractive to him – they’re able to regulate themselves and put others’ thoughts and feelings into perspective.

He cares too much about other people to have a darling with little to no awareness of others’ feelings, and to have a darling that manages to merge in this awareness alongside a healthy appetite for competition and teasing?

Well, Kotarou finds himself falling hard and fast, loving the idea of a darling who’s so mature yet so wonderfully immature – perfect for someone like him.

(And, though he isn’t consciously thinking about it, perfect for a mother – he won’t explicitly bring up the topic of marriage and children, but he enters every relationship with the thought in mind, always hopeful that perhaps he’s finally found the right woman. And lucky him, he has – his wonderful, wonderful darling.)

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

He’s naturally quite affectionate with those around him, for better or worse. He’s always looking for someone to talk to, hang out with, goof around with, and once his feelings for you form, so lovely and horrible and overwhelming, this trait is only amplified.

It only increases monumentally with the absolute need to constantly be around you, to have your attention solely on him because god, seeing your pretty eyes focused on him makes his heart race so fast he thinks he’s dying.

He wants you to be looking at him at all times, thinking about him every minute of the day, be craving him as much as he craves you. He wants you to daydream about him smiling at you, making you bite your lip and stare at the ground while you fight back a flustered, school-girl-esque grin because god, isn’t he just so dreamy?

He wants you to be fantasizing about hugging him, feeling his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body while he nuzzles into your neck, whispering your name in a hoarse voice that gets you shivering and nudging your thighs together because fuck, how can anyone sound that good?

Honestly, the idea of you thinking of him is enough to have him grinning with his eyes squeezed shut, a slight flush on his cheeks as he pumps his fist and lets out a victorious laugh.

(There have been quite a few instances of you patting him on the back, albeit awkwardly, to which he responded with a resounding hey, hey, hey! that sounded much too close to a moan and raised his fist to the sky – you’ve never understood why his voice gets all high and shaky like that, but somehow it seems you’d rather not know the answer.)

He thrives on your physical touch, your sweet words and glossy eyes staying fixed on him, and you’ll quickly notice how Koutarou always seems to just be around, how those golden eyes never really seem to leave, his gray and black hair standing out in your peripheral, followed shortly by a cheerful yell of your name and a bone crushing hug that makes you wheeze and shiver as you realize there’s something pressing into your thigh, oh god why is he hard and nuzzling his face into your neck and is he sighing?

It’s almost flattering at first – not expected, but sweet that he seems to feel so close to you, until it’s happening every day, every time he sees you – he’s always hugging you, holding your hand, ruffling your hair, calling you so cute, isn’t she Akaashi? Makes me wanna eat her right up!

It’s endearing and you’ll be flattered that a famous, attractive professional athlete is so obviously interested in you, but it becomes less and less endearing as time passes. It becomes less cute when he’s making some offhand comment about how you must’ve changed your shampoo – he distinctly remembers your hair smelling like strawberries, and now it has more of a lavender scent; but don’t worry, you smell great either way, cutie!

It becomes less flattering as he tells you while you’re being forced to sit in his lap as the team puts up the volleyball nets that you seemed like you were hesitant to come to practice with me today – is there something I don’t know about? Are you seeing someone else? What aren’t you telling me? It’s not nice to keep secrets from boyfriends, you know.

Quickly you’ll come to realize that Kotarou’s level of dependence on you is completely unwarranted for how close your relationship really is, but there isn’t much you can say to change this fact – he’s clingy, he needs your affection and attention, and when you ask Akaashi or Atsumu about it, about why he seems so needy and so obsessed with you, they’ll both write it off as Bokuto and his fleeting feelings, just his childish nature at work.

And when you try to confront him about it, to tell him that you’re uncomfortable with him suddenly springing up on you from behind, pinning you against a desk with his body looming over you while he inhales deeply and whispers about how pretty you look in your new skirt, he’ll just frown, pouting down at you while he whines about how he isn’t trying to be weird, that he just wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you.

He’ll only lean more weight on you, hug you tighter and whisper about how he knows you want this just as bad as he does, that it’s only normal for boyfriends to want to touch their girlfriends, to want to spend time with them and hear their compliments and care for each other.

It’s natural, he explains, to be always by your side, for you to never leave his field of vision – which is why you’ll find yourself coming to most MSBY practices and games decked out in the #12 spare jersey he not so subtly demanded you wear (that still very much has the fresh scent of a recent workout in it – something about pheromones and marking you, Kotarou had explained, with words too quick and slurred for you to really understand).

You’ll find yourself spending most of your meals either by his side or in his lap (trying to ignore the way a certain hardness presses against your ass if you move too much, if you’re squirmin’ so much cutiepie, you okay?).

You’ll be walked home everyday from your job and convinced to spend the evening with him, though he spends more time staring at you than watching the movie you’d thrown on.

And really, you can tell yourself every day that you’ll finally stand up to him, that you’ll finally end this bizarre, possessive behavior coming from a man you aren’t even dating, but each time you bring it up, those soft golden eyes will have you feeling like you’re kicking a puppy, his entire aura being shut down in a heartbeat at your stuttered I-I think we need to take some time apart…

Kotarou isn’t doing it on purpose, but you’ll be extremely hard pressed to ever really change the way he acts around you – it makes you feel too guilty, like you’re spinning the situation into so much more than it really is.

So, when you bite your lip and shake your head, giving him a shaky smile and telling him that you changed your mind, he’s beaming and letting out a cheer and scooping you into his arms to swing you around in circles, despite your demands that you must be too heavy to carry, that he’s making such a scene and the entire restaurant is staring and god, he just loves you so much, he knew you were meant for him and your acceptance only proves this!

It’s not so big a deal, right? Kotarou is mostly harmless, doesn’t mean anything weird by his touchiness, his desperation to be with you, right? It’s just a short term thing, soon his attention will move on, right?

Possessive

Kotarou, while incredibly empathetic and intuitive to other peoples’ emotions, does not handle his own especially well.

He’s terrible at stopping himself from having extreme highs and lows over the pettiest things, and this doesn’t stop at just volleyball, at just his normal life – no, his love for you is most definitely affected by this as well. Namely, in the form of jealousy; he’s a firm believer in faithfulness and loyalty, in the idea that you have one and only one partner, that they should be enough for you and that other men and women are essentially just background noise for the real one, the one that makes your heart race, your palms sweat and a lovely sort of nervousness to grow in the pit of your stomach.

He’s always believed in this, and once his infatuation with you forms, this philosophy most certainly doesn’t change; if anything, he clings onto the idea with frantic fingers, clutching at the concept of you looking at no one else for any reason whatsoever.

He’s plagued with the fear that someone will try and interfere with your relationship, that someone will come along and try and tear the two of you apart – he’s terrified of losing you, of losing who he genuinely believes to be his true love to some other man, to some other loser who decided you were pretty and would be a fun catch.

Kotarou is self-aware enough to know that he isn’t the ideal man, that you likely don’t love his mood swings, his habits of switching emotions quicker than you can likely keep up. He knows this, which is why it makes it so much more painful when that coworker of yours starts talking to you more, looking at you with such light and happy eyes, staring at you with what Kotarou is absolutely sure is a blush on his cheeks, when he’s leaning in way too much.

His possessiveness flares up especially in his sadder moments – when he’s already spiraling into a fit of self-doubt, it’s easy to read too far into any situation in which your gaze flickers over to another guy, easy to over examine the way you quickly apologize after bumping into a player on the opposite team in the hallway.

It’s so fucking easy to feel like his place as your rightful partner, as your lover and boyfriend and future husband is being threatened when he sees literally anyone approach you – because really, Kotarou can’t help but wonder if you’d like them more, if maybe you’re only nice to him and letting him hug you, compliment you, and everything else because you feel sorry for him, because you’re pitying him.

And it’s those thoughts that drive him to march up to you and pull you into his chest, to press your ear against his heart while he buries his face in your hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he asks in a whisper if he’s still enough, if you’ve found someone else, if you even really love him.

And really, as disarming and disorienting as it is, there’s some part of you that will feel bad for him, that will want to comfort this man so obviously in need of praise, so obviously in need of someone to tell him that yes, he’s enough, yes you love him and you’ll always love him.

Even if it’s not true – even if it’s just something you’re saying out of a misplaced sense of guilt, even if it’s something you’ll find yourself horribly regretting the deeper into delusion Kotarou sinks. And so, as you promise that you do in fact want him, that you need him as badly as he needs you and that you’ll never, ever leave him, Kotarou slowly begins to relax, melting into your arms and trying to calm his ragged breaths, the racing of his heart, the tears flowing down his cheeks.

It’s difficult, but as he pulls back and sees your confused, beautiful fucking face, a small smile makes its way onto his lips, the knowledge that you’ll never leave him ringing in his head. Because really, how could he ever ask for anything more?

All he needs is you you you, and now that you’ve promised him, he’ll hold you to it. And when you’re trapped by his side some time later, those strong arms wrapped suffocatingly tight around your waist and his grin big and dopey and scary as he promises to never, ever let you leave his side, you’ll really only have yourself to blame. Because really, while Kotarou’s jealousy manifests mostly as self-deprication and an increased need for your reassurance and praise, ultimately you’ll be the one to push forward his dependence on you.

You’re the one telling him that he’s wonderful, that you’re not interested in any other men, that he’s every girl’s dream. It’s small things that slowly build up, feeding into Kotarou’s delusions until he’s too far gone to really even listen to you anymore; picking and choosing what he wants to hear from you, twisting your words into some grand declaration of love that gets him smiling like a fool, crushing you into his arms and leaving your lips bruised with the ferocity of his kisses.

You’re just so perfect, huh?

Delusional

But in an extremely specific way – on his own, Kotarou isn’t a particularly delusional man. He’s tied to his beliefs, yes, but he’s grounded and lucid enough to understand the importance of seeing multiple perspectives, of listening to others, of staying in touch with reality and not letting himself get too carried away.

And this is still true in the beginnings of his obsession – he knows that you’re just friends, that you have a budding friendship that he’d like to progress into something more, something deeper and more romantic in its origin. And he’s strict about this for a long time – going to Akaashi for dating advice or asking the ever-grumpy Sakusa how he thinks Kotarou should approach you.

(Akaashi gives much, much more insightful advice than his teammate, of course – telling Kotarou to take things slow and listen to what you want, to let you guide the pace and direction of the relationship. Sakusa merely scoffs and tells him to stop being loud and irritating, and you might have a shot.)

And Kotarou sticks to this advice well in the beginning – establishing a positive connection with you and letting you get comfortable, your friendship blossoming and growing into one that you can foresee being one of your most cherished.

But then elements of his infatuation begin developing, and suddenly that advice gets a bit warped, his understanding of your intentions slowly crumbling away because of one critical, crucial factor: Kotarou grows an incredibly strong sense of attachment towards you.

He’s already quite physically touchy and needy as it is, but as his obsession with you progresses, this dependency morphs into not only the more tactile side of things, but his mental state as well. He quickly grows to absolutely need you in every sense of the word; you’re something that keeps him tethered, grounded. Your love and attention is something that he needs in order to survive, in order to wake up everyday and get himself out of bed because he knows that he’ll get to see you today, to hug you and touch you and maybe even kiss you if he can catch you off guard enough.

Within the span of a few months after he recognizes that his feelings for you are more romantic than platonic, Koutarou’s entire mental health and wellbeing revolves around you and the attention you give him.

The advice of his friends still rings through his head, but he instead begins interpreting your actions as you wanting to foster this dependency of his. He thinks that you’re aware of his brewing feelings, and that you feel the same way – surely that’s what you mean when you always praise him, right? His every action comes back to you; he hits a spike in a match he got you exclusive, front-row player’s box seats for?

Well, he’s immediately peering up into the stands, golden eyes frantically searching for you, and once he spots you he’s waving like a madman, blowing obnoxious kisses at you, proudly exclaiming that was for you babe! And he’ll keep going until you acknowledge him, until you give him a thumbs up and a toothy smile, until you yell back that you’re so proud of you, Ko!

(Of course, the phrasing of ‘babe’ is a bit suspect, but you’ll blame it on mishearing him in the loud, packing stadium.)

When he tries out a new recipe for a particular dish he knows you love, he’s eager to call you, begging you to drop whatever it is you’re doing and swing by his apartment to try because he really, really needs you to say you like it.

(He’ll be watching with rapt attention as you hover the fork to your lips, practically not breathing as he watches you chew and swallow, his palms so sweaty and clammy that he nearly drops the pan in excitement when you compliment the food. Don’t pay attention to the way he gulps loud enough for you to hear, nor the way he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, laughing that booming laugh of his and seeming much too joyous for a simple well-cooked meal.)

Everything comes back to the basic principal that Koutarou just wants desperately to impress you – he thrives on your praise, seeing you proud of him and happy to call him yours, and he’s leaping at each and every possible chance to achieve that, to make you laugh and wrap your arms around him, to whisper into his ear that you’re so proud baby, I know you worked so hard, now what’dya say we go home and I reward you for all that hard work, just how you like it?

He’s committed to being your dream partner, to being someone you can proudly call your own, and he quite literally needs you praise and validation in every aspect of his life to solidify his delusions about the way you feel for him – your opinion is something he values over his own life, your presence something he genuinely believes he can’t live without, and so to have you by his side constantly, always smiling at him and making him feel so giddy and happy is something that Kotarou really honestly needs.

The bottom line is that his entire emotional and mental state rests firmly upon your shoulders, firmly upon your reactions to the things he does for you – so keep that in mind as he rushes up to you with the excitement and energy of a puppy, ranting and raving about how he managed to hit one of Atsumu’s new kinds of tosses or block one of Hinata’s best spikes.

Keep it in mind as he presses you flush against his body, his face buried into your neck, his audible inhale and whimper that vibrates against your skin making a shiver shoot up your spine in anything but pleasure. Keep in mind that now it’s your responsibility to keep Kotarou happy, that your job is essentially to make sure that he stays at least somewhat stable.

(With the pressure coming from the entire management staff of the MSBY team, who’ve realized that Kotarou has a bit of a massive crush on you – you, who isn’t doing the best financially, who could very much not survive a class-action lawsuit for ruining one of their star players.)

And once he’s stolen away, it’s your responsibility to keep him happy so that he keeps leaving the apartment, leaving you, making sure that you have enough food and water to survive, so that his depressive episodes don’t cost you your life.

So really, have fun; because eventually the emotional toll will hit you, but don’t worry because Kotarou will be right there to help pick you up again.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Because his jealous streak is really quite strong, Koutarou has a tendency to misinterpret nearly every single interaction you have with a member of the opposite sex.

He’s automatically assuming that everyone is interested in you, that everyone wants to date you and make you smile and kiss you and fuck you, all of which are things that only he should be allowed to do. He’s jumping to conclusions before things really even happen, sure that you’ll somehow be manipulated into leaving him, into leaving the happy, loving relationship you share with him.

It’s a fear that permeates his every moment when he’s away from you (something that is admittedly quite rare, but still), that seeps into the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that you love him, that you’d never cheat on him or trade him in for someone better.

 Of course, he trusts you enough to not immediately act upon his jealousy when he notices another man in your vicinity. Rather, he’ll start demanding your attention even more, trying to keep you physically turned away from the stranger and keep your eyes focused only on Kotarou, because if you can’t see the man, the man can’t see you, right?

It’s poor logic, and Kotarou panics the entire time he tries to stall, only able to imagine the way you’d look by this new man’s side.

And at the end of the day, that’s really it – Kotarou knows that he’s not perfect. You, with your lovely figure, beautiful face, wonderful personality, and many talents, could really get any guy of your choice. So why would you want him?

He seems confident, like he has no doubts about himself and his abilities, and for the most part he doesn’t, but there’s just something about you that makes him constantly reanalyze himself, that makes him wonder if he’s really enough, if he could ever really be enough for someone as perfect as you.

Sure he’s athletic, friendly, handsome, kind, but he’s not the number one hitter in the league, not the brightest, not the most charming, not the best looking or most mysterious or funniest or any number of other things that you might find more attractive.

And as time passes this eats away at Kotarou’s mind, driving him insane the longer it occupies the back of his thoughts because he just can’t shake the image of you in another man’s arms, laughing and kissing them and just being so fucking happy without him.

He’s dependent on you to an unhealthy degree, absolutely fixated on the idea of needing you in his life, and so Kotarou doesn’t really hold back in terms of trying to control his jealousy – he knows he needs to step in before you even get the chance to be lulled in by some other man. He needs to interfere before he loses you forever, and while he knows you’re probably embarrassed by how he barges in anytime you talk to someone else, Kotarou doesn’t let it hold him back.

Nothing can hold him back in the face of something as terrifying as losing you.

You’d never pegged Kotarou as one for video games, but when he’d dragged you to the new arcade that opened up a few blocks from his house, he practically seemed like a child in a toystore.

With his hand wrapped tightly around yours, he’d led you through row after row of game machines, golden eyes wide as he pointed to each and every one, promising you that he’d beat this one in two tries, or that one with his eyes closed. It’d been endearing in a way, watching how excited he’d gotten, before he dragged you over to a game in the far corner with especially bright lights and all sorts of noises coming from it.

He’d challenged you, telling you with a booming laugh that he’d bet you couldn’t beat him, a challenge you eagerly accepted. And really, while he’d been mildly embarrassed to sheepishly admit he’d run out of quarters after his fifth try through the game, it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting up to the ticketing counter, digging in his wallet for the largest dollar bill he had on hand to trade in. Leaving you alone at the game, biting your lip and reading over all the cartoon-style text decorating the game’s exterior.

You were so engrossed in the game’s appearance that you didn’t hear the blond man’s calls to you, shy little excuse me’s falling on deaf ears. Soon a tapping at your shoulder tapped you out of your reverie, spinning around to come face to face with a man you’d never seen before. Sandy blond hair and thick rimmed glasses sitting atop a rather brightly colored dress shirt and dark jeans.

Do you know how to play? Even his voice seemed timid, and while you were a bit shocked at his question, you’d only smiled and said no, hoping the man would drop some hints on ways to beat Kotarou – hearing his boasting was worse than hearing his moping, after all.

The man seemed relieved, moving forward to restart the game and talking you through the level, telling you tips on when to jump, which treasure chests were worth more, tricks on how to move the toggle piece, even telling you that the game would sometimes glitch and delete off ten seconds to your total time if you moved just right.

You’d thanked him profusely, excitement brewing in your chest at the thought of how you would crush Kotarou, but the sudden feeling of being watched washed over you and left you stiffening up, no longer paying attention to the stranger’s words.

In less than a moment, you were suddenly pushed from behind, spun around so that your back was pressed against the arcade wall, the breath knocked out of your lungs and Kotarou’s face – fit with a scowl – filling up your entire view.

Your surprised yelp was cut off by him suddenly lunging forward, his lips settling onto yours hard enough to make you flinch a bit. He kissed you roughly, loudly, the sound of wet smacking filling your ears and surely the stranger’s, if his facial expression was anything to go by. With red cheeks and a shocked look spread across his features, the man was quick to stutter an apology and speed off, trying to avoid the sight of Kotarou pressing you tighter against the wall and the sound of his groans and grunts.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Kotarou pulled back, licking his lips and looking at you with something akin to hunger swirling in those golden eyes.

Who was that?

Is all he got out, hands still firmly placed at your waist.

Your shock barred you from answering right away, before a resounding smack rung through his ears, the mild pain of your slap to his chest leaving him winded, the pleasant sensation of you touching him numbing out some of the hot, angry envy in his veins.

What the hell was that, Kotarou? You practically yell at him, the sound drowned out by the ringing of a few games nearby.

Kotarou only sighs, squeezing your sides and fixing you with an unblinking stare.

That man was bothering you, couldn’t he see you were here with me?

At your bewildered look, he merely laughed, one hand coming up to teasingly ruffle your hair. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll leave us alone for the rest of the day. Now c’mon, I got more quarters – watch me win!

And just like that, he seemed to have forgotten all about the rather heated, intimate moment he’d instigated – all smiles and laughter and taunts for the rest of the day as you shakily and wearily settled by his side, trying to rationalize that perhaps it looked different to an outsider.

Perhaps Kotarou thought the man was bothering you, and was worried he’d only get the hint through extreme measures. And he’s always been a bit extreme and exaggerated, surely he meant nothing by the kiss – even if it had been rather graphic, even if he’d been practically moaning at just the taste of you.

That must be it, you decide, as Kotarou whines and pouts about losing the level once more, begging you to give him just one more try. The small, half-hearted smile you give him is enough permission for him, and just that look settles the raging jealousy in his heart.

You were looking at him again, just as you should be – him and him only.

(And later that night, that’s what’s falling past his lips in a mantra as he vividly remembers the feel of your body in his hands, your lips pressed against his own, the smell of you clouding his every breath.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Kotarou’s infatuation with you is, in most ways, strange.

He’s utterly obsessed, of course – his every waking moment is either revolving around volleyball or you, often times mixing and jumbling up so that he’s imagining all sorts of things that get him grinning like a fool, his cheeks bright red and his breathing too heavy to be considered normal.

(Things like seeing you wear his jersey, for example, or having you toss him a ball that he smacks so hard it hurts, seeing your impressed and flustered expression as he teases you about how strong he is. The kind of thing that makes his chest swell with pride, that makes him bite his lip and clutch at his covers late at night when he’s dreaming and wanting and needing you.)

His feelings for you carelessly breach any sort of trust or boundaries between the two of you, and for the most part Kotarou doesn’t see an issue with this.

Of course you probably don’t like when he checks the tracker he’d installed into your phone, but it’s just for safety and he’s sure you’ll eventually understand! It’s unsafe to let someone like you travel around alone at night (or in the day, or in crowded streets or public parks or even in the safety of your own home-).

He’s just taking an extra precaution to make sure someone’s got an eye on you – he’d be more than happy to install a tracker into his phone for you to keep tabs on his location too, if you’d like. (And oh, he wishes you’d like that.)

You’re probably not the biggest fan of when he wraps an arm around you in public, beaming and planting a wet, long kiss against your temple as he greets you, walking to your favorite coffee shop with his arm still wrapped around you, migrating down to your waist and making walking uncomfortable while he prattles on and on about his latest training regiment.

(And sure, maybe he’s exaggerating just a hair about how much he can bench press, or how fast his serves are, but those golden eyes of his are constantly scanning your expressions, looking for even the slightest hint of awe, analyzing any signs that you’re impressed with his physical prowess, his dedication. Impressed by him, really.)

And so really, Kotarou breaks every physical and intangible barrier and wall that you have down, slowly and bit by bit until you’re so desensitized to his antics and his behavior towards you that you stop questioning it. You’re not exactly supportive of the possessive, overly clingy way he treats you, but it’s just Kotarou, so really how harmful can it be? He’s just a silly, overgrown puppy of a man, and why should you ever be afraid of him?

And Kotarou’s feelings towards your living situation reflect this sentiment – that is, he absolutely does not want to kidnap you.

Not only does he find the term entirely unapplicable to your situation if he were to steal you away (because he’s convinced that on some core level you’d actually be pleased, like you want him to whisk you away and keep you wrapped up in his apartment as his little housewife), but it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth to imagine keeping you cooped up in one place all the time.

He loves to be out with you, to take you to markets and restaurants and movies and all sorts of other things – he likes having you out in public. It stresses him out a bit, yes, constantly being vigilant and aware of any man that tries to approach you, but by and large he finds that he enjoys your company most and enjoys showing you off most when you’re not all alone at home.

That isn’t to say that he dislikes cozy movie nights spent on his couch with now-cold takeout sprawled across the table, but there’s just something special about seeing you laugh so hard you cry because of him in a busy, sunny street café where everyone can see just how entertained you are by him.

(Those cozier evenings are of course favorites of him, though, because he gets to see a more intimate side of you – when you get sleepy and your eyes start drooping, he has to physically hold himself back from cooing and squishing your cheeks. And especially when you fall asleep on his shoulder or shift just right so that he worm his way into your arms, noticing how your flimsy sleeping shorts ride up just a hair to expose the lower curve of your ass, his mouth is left watering and his own shorts feel uncomfortably tight – something he'd be absolutely crazy to dislike.)

And so, Kotarou will hold off for as long as possible on stealing you away, just for the selfish reason of being able to drag you to all his games, to pretty dates (that you aren’t aware are dates, of course, but that’s just a technicality), to keep you happy and excited and free by his side.

But if things were to go south and you started to really critically analyze his behavior and decide that you don’t want to remain in his life?

Well, Kotarou has never quite felt panic like when you swing by his apartment one last time to announce that you’re moving away. He’s never quite felt a level of dismay like when you tell him you’ll be blocking his number because he’s made you uncomfortable, or when you tell him you’ll be crashing at a male friend’s place.

And really, that last portion is the kicker – it sends Kotarou’s mind spiraling, panic engulfing him and leading him to grab you, his hands shaking as he holds you, eyes flashing as he drags you to his bedroom, holding you down on the bed and using a spare t-shirt to tie up your wrists and ankles.

He’s never known fear like this before, and as he stares down at you – writhing, looking at him with tears in your eyes, looking at him –

He’s never quite known excitement like this before, either.

As a captor, Kotarou isn’t terrible – with one glaring exception: he’s needy. You’ve known this for as long as you’ve known him, but once you’re trapped in his home this is only amplified, the clinginess getting worse and worse because you have no way to dissuade his touchiness, no way to distract him away with outside people and activities.

No, now it’s strictly you and him – which is heaven for Kotarou, exactly what he’s been fantasizing about come to life.

Unfortunately for you, this means excessive time spent together and a lot of physical contact. Though his delusions aren’t quite deep enough to fully mask the fact that you’re unhappy, Kotarou is able to chalk up your lack of enthusiasm for things you did pre-kidnapping as you simply being moody, shy, womanly.

It’s infuriating how much he blames your behavior on your hormones and menstrual cycle.

He’s practically impossible to deal with once your period begins, his touches soft and gentle and nearly scared, treating you like you’re some breakable, delicate piece of treasure that can’t do anything on your own.

He’ll cook meals for you, then promptly bring the chopsticks up to your mouth and say ahh, smiling like a fool as he guides the ramen past your lips, nodding enthusiastically when you chew.

He’ll hold your hand and help you walk around the apartment, big eyes wide and worried when you near any corners, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself because you’re distracted with cramp pain or simply having brain fog. And really, it would be endearing how earnestly he’s trying to make you comfortable and provide for you during your time of the month, but there’s something truly humiliating about the level of disregard he feels for your complaints, simply smiling lopsidedly at you and telling you don’t worry, I’ll make it all better! I’ve got some of that chocolate you like, you want some? I can heat up your heating pad too, and we can watch some old reruns of my games – you’d like that, right? You like watching me play, yeah?

And really, that’s the main thing with Kotarou – the level of care and attention he both gives to you and demands from you is incredibly draining.

The constant feeling of walking on eggshells around him is enough to have your mind running in circles, constantly worried that you’ll say the wrong thing about his personality or his actions and have him moping, convinced that you’re just being mean because you’re disappointed in him, that you’re just playing hard to get because he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve. And so how does he respond to this?

By giving you more attention, swamping you with questions and touches and all sorts of things for the two of you to do together. He’s always forcing you onto the couch to try out a new video game Akinori mentioned when he last ran into him, or watching a scary movie and clutching onto you for dear life at every jump scare.

(He thinks it’s romantic, but the slight bruising left on your thighs and sides from his very, very tight grip are less sweet.)

He’s just generally so very out of touch with how you’re feeling that it’s infuriating – but you have to be careful, because everything you do and say will only cause him to grasp onto you tighter, clutching onto you with more strength than you can handle because his entire mental wellbeing is still resting firmly on your shoulders. He forces you to sleep in bed beside him, waking up to you tangled in his arms every morning, starting his day off right and making it slightly easier to leave you for early morning trainings.

(He has to wake up with you every morning or else he feels like something’s off, his performance severely lacking and the only thing that can fix it being excessive affection from you – something a bit difficult to come by.)

He forces you to share meals with him because it gives him a reason to unabashedly stare at you (though he does this anyway, frequently) and watch as you eat the food he provided you. He has to be the sole one cooking or buying you take out, because it feeds the narrative he’s crafted in his head that he’s your provider, that he’s taking care of you, that he’s being a good male partner and spoiling his perfect little wife.

(Of course, you may not be married yet, but to Kotarou it’s just a matter of time – you’re already entwined in every possible way, living together and spending every waking moment together, so why bother with formal ceremonies and official titles when he can just buy a diamond and slip onto your finger with a toothy grin and a much too long and much too detailed declaration of his love? Of course, if you want the ceremony he’d be more than willing to give it to you, but he’s content with the knowledge that you’re his and his alone already.)

So really, if you can handle his hands constantly being on you, his lips always pressed against your skin, his voice always ringing in your ears, and his presence always a looming shadow over you demanding your praise and attention and time, Kotarou isn’t terrible.

There’s shades of genuine love in how he treats you – the gentleness in his touches, the tenderness of his compliments, the way he’ll moan into your ear the most adoring, utterly pathetic things as he settles himself between your legs.

There’s evidence that he truly loves you in some horrible, twisted way, but it all just feels like too much. Too forceful, too desperate, too passionate, too him.

But no amount of trying to get through to him will ever change the way he treats you, or ever persuade him into loosing the metaphorical lease he keeps you on – you’re his, and no matter how hard you try Kotarou will always firmly believe that fate has brought you together.

And isn’t that so romantic?

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, it’s rare for Kotarou to get genuinely angry at you.

Of course he has his highs and lows – he may be unwilling to seriously listen to your complaints or insults hurled at him, but he’s not inhuman. He still knows that you’re being mean – criticizing him and visibly displeased with him, and just that fact alone has his eyes drooping, guilt, self-pity and shame resting heavily on his shoulders.

His delusions about your feelings for him bar him from fully comprehending that your anger lies in the fact that he’s kidnapped you rather than not cuddling with you the night before, but he can still tell that something is amiss. He doesn’t like when you aren’t smiling and happy, when you’re bothered and troubled, when you aren’t acting like you used to, back before he relocated you to his apartment.

It’s upsetting, really, and it leaves Kotarou desperate to figure out how to get a grin back onto your lips, how to make you laugh, how to please you again. A lot of Kotarou’s anger and punishments stem from a place of insecurity and worry about your perception of him – he’s really quite sensitive, especially coming from someone he idolizes and reveres as much as you, and so his solutions to any sort of non-desirable behavior from you is to simply try harder.

It’s seemed to have worked in his career – hours upon hours upon hours spent lagging after practices to work on his spikes just a bit more, to serve just a few more balls, to get just a bit better.

And he applies this same principle with you – he’d rather pull his nails off one by one than physically hurt you or deny you of food and water or leave you all alone or any number of things he could do to force your codependency on him to become stronger.

And so, Kotarou wracks his brain for any and all possibilities on how to get you to like him more, on how to make you happy, on how to be a better boyfriend.

And frankly, it results in a much, much worse time for you.

If you thought Kotarou was clingy before you yelled at him for installing locks on his windows, then he’s downright glued to your side afterwards, his breath constantly fanning on your cheeks and his voice seemingly never ending as it rings over and over and over in your ears.

If you thought being in the same room as him was difficult before you slapped him across the face for giving your ass a playful squeeze, it’s nothing compared to how he plants more and more kisses onto your unwilling lips, leaving pretty dresses and lacy lingerie out on your (forcefully shared) bed for you, the way he starts piling on the compliments with such frequency and urgency that it nearly makes you sick.

Kotarou has always been a lot, truly, and once his feelings for you are thrown into the mix he becomes too much – and when you’re angry at him, ignoring him or hurling insults at him or denying his affection?

Well, the sadness quickly dissipates into fear, anxiety eating at every inch of his body because what if you hate him now?

You’re meant for one another, sure, but what if he’s messed it all up by not being enough for you?

It’s the stuff of nightmares, and in order to correct it he’ll instead become your nightmare.

You hear him before you see him – his keys jingle loudly in his pocket, the rhythmic noises of the padlock on the front door locking back up sounding too familiar now. You’re sitting at the dining table, staring down at the new book Kotarou had gifted you a week ago – you’ve read it twice already in that span of time, but as his footsteps approach the kitchen area, you resolve to read it once again.

His voice is loud as he calls your name, and you can hear the smile on his face as his footsteps quicken, his pace nearly turning to a run as he approaches you. His arms are around you before you can stop them, his words already pouring out as he starts telling you all about his day, rambling on about how Meian and Hinata had promised to take Kotarou out to a new bar later this week.

He’s still hugging you as he goes on to tell you that it’s supposed to be super good, I’ll have to let you know how it is! Maybe I can bring something home for you – I know your favorite’s always been –

Your mouth is moving before you can even really stop yourself, the words seeming to burst out without your control. Don’t tell me about all your plans in the outside world – not when I’m stuck here wasting away in this fucking apartment.

Your voice is low, uneven, and immediately Kotarou tenses, his eyebrows drawing together into a pout. What are you talking about? I just want to bring you a good drink and maybe we can watch that trashy rom-com you love and –

You cut him off again by harshly shaking off his arms from around you, moving your elbows out in an attempt to get him off of you.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to get me a drink! I don’t want you to do anything for me – you need to let me go, Kotarou. You can’t keep me stuck here forever! I should be out there getting a drink too, and going to the fucking store and seeing my friends and living my life! You’re – you’re a terrible person, and I hate you!

Your chest is heaving by the time you finish your spiel, having started off in that same low tone but eventually getting to a yell. He’d backed off of you, watching you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, his mind racing and trying to understand what you could possibly mean.

Stuck here? What were you saying?

You were happy here – you always return his hugs and his kisses and let him pull you closer to his chest at night and laugh at his jokes and smile at him and say you love him to and and and –

He moves back towards you, going to wrap his arms around you again, but this time you stand up and scurry off to the other end of table and now Kotarou can see the way your eyes are glossy, how you’re on the verge of tears and your lip is trembling.

Leave me alone, I can’t stand you! Not after what you’ve done to me!

And with that, you turn tail and run off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Behind the door your hands shake, the tears finally falling as you slide down the wood, landing in a sitting position and cursing Kotarou for not putting locks on the interior doors.

A fresh wave of tears falls down your cheeks as you realize you can’t even use the toilet in peace, not without the constant, lingering threat of him watching you. It’s too much, and soon your head is in your hands, sobs wracking your body.

 Meanwhile, Kotarou is still standing frozen, his heart and mind racing because you’re obviously upset. He doesn’t know why you’re overreacting like this, but the image of you with tears in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings, prompting him to rush and grab his car keys once more, flying out the front door and practically speeding to the nearest store, his grocery cart full.

He’s home roughly twenty minutes later, tears already pooling in his own eyes because the more he’s thought about the state you’re in the more he comes to the conclusion that it’s his fault, that he must’ve made you angry or sad and now he has to fix it.

He has to show you that you don’t hate him – you’re just having a rough day, that’s all. You’re just sad that he’s been gone all day and hasn’t been home to give you the proper love and care that you deserve. His fingers grip the steering wheel tightly even to leave his knuckles white, his teeth grinding and gritting together as he presses down on the gas gauge just a hair harder, desperation and guilt weighing heavily in his chest because god, he hates seeing you so upset.

And as he races back up to the apartment with all the groceries in his arms, he’s quick to wrap his fist against the bathroom door, asking in a breathless voice if you’re okay or if you’re hurt.

You’re still quietly crying, sniffling heavily and trying to ignore him as he knocks again. He knows he could bust the door open, easily overpowering you and giving him direct access to you, but the hurt look in your eyes flashes through his mind again and he decides against it. No, he needs to prove that he’s good enough at reading you and figuring out what you need – he needs to prove himself to you, to make you like him again.

He calls your name through the door again, before resting his forehead against the wood and wincing. I’m sorry for whatever I did, baby, I promise I didn’t mean it!

 He hears you scoff at that, and bites his lip.

You know me, sometimes I just get carried away! I never meant to make you upset, you’ve got to know that. He pauses, shifting around the bags in his arms. You mean so much to me, I love you. I love you more than I think I should, but it’s okay! I’ll be better for you, I promise. I’ll be a better boyfriend and I’ll make you happy. Just – you just have to let me try, okay? Please baby, let me try.

It’s silent for a moment, and Kotarou’s chest feels tight.

Please, he tries one last time.

And although you know you shouldn’t and that you’ll regret it, some small part of you almost feels bad as you hear him sniffle through the wood, the sound of him crying obvious. You bite your lip, a small voice in the back of your head quietly wondering if you should believe him.

After all, does he really make you that unhappy? He’s always so eager and pathetically excited when you smile at him, and is it really so bad to have someone give you all their attention and time? You’re ashamed to admit some part of you almost likes it, and soon your body is moving before you can stop it.

The door opens and Kotarou’s heart is in his throat, the sight of you with red, puffy eyes and your lip caught between your teeth making something between a sigh of relief and a whimper slip from him.

The multitude of bags precariously balanced in his arms immediately have your eyes widening, the names of your favorite snacks peeking through the sacks and making that same pang in your heart twist again, the knowledge that he went out and bought all of this for you just because you were sad forcing you to take a step forward.

You don’t say anything, and Kotarou stares at you with wide eyes, a wild sort of look overtaking his parted lips and pink cheeks, and when you mumble something small, he has to physically strain himself to hear you.

You repeat your favorite drink, swallowed harshly and struggling to make eye contact with him. He mouths it back to himself, before slowly, shyly, smiling down at you.

You won’t regret, I promise! He laughs, the sound relieved, dropping all of the shopping bags on the ground and immediately scooping you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you nearly can’t breath, all the while that familiar, chiming laughter fills your ears.

I love you, I love you, I love you he repeats into your ear, keeping you close and occasionally squeezing tighter.

And even as something crumbles up inside you, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him too, shoving your face against his chest and nodding, your words muffled as you murmur the smallest  I love you, too back.

And Kotarou can only beam down at you, repeating the phrase over and over until all the words start slurring together, until all you can do is slowly relax into the warmth of his arms, into the feeling of someone completely and utterly loving you.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kotarou is less dangerous and honestly more pathetic than anything else.

He’s a fully grown man who’s desperate for someone to love, whose desperation becomes so deeply ingrained in his feelings towards you that he clutches onto you and never lets go.

Reading into your feelings festers delusions about how you feel towards him, feeding him pretty lies about how you really feel and what your actions really mean.

He builds a relationship between the two of you in his head, growing closer and more intimate with you than socially acceptable for a friendship, becoming more and more dependent on you and the praise you so willingly give him.

It’s heaven, really, and it leaves Kotarou blinded to the ugly side of his obsession.

He’s clingy and overly possessive, always touching you and calling you his and making sure that everyone sees the two of you together – that everyone knows that you’re his woman and he’s your man.

He wants to make sure that your relationship – fake or not – is idyllic, that you’re so happy with him that you could never even dream of wanting another man, never even entertain the notion of needing anyone else because Kotarou is everything you could ever want.

And while he won’t explicitly acknowledge any behavior that clashes with the pretty image of you and your love that he’s crafted in his head, he’s not immune to your negative reception of his touches and his rather aggressive affection.

You’ll have to walk on eggshells around him, careful to keep him from falling deeply into a spiral that could lead to your own slow demise being trapped under his thumb.

It’s stressful, a lifestyle that’ll leave you haggard and spent, tired to the point where slowly it will stop feeling like an act to return his hugs, to compliment his muscles, to tell him that you missed him while he was away at work.

It will feel less and less like a lie, the words slipping off your tongue so easily that it’ll leave you scared.

Because really, while Kotarou is overbearing and quite honestly scary with the way he barrels forwards and takes whatever he wants from you, eventually you’ll find yourself less and less angry, and more and more complacent. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

You have a warm bed to sleep in, a roof over your head, and food to eat.

And the man that holds you flush to his chest in said bed, pays the rent for said roof, and hand-selects only meals he knows you like can’t possibly be that bad, right?

After all, doesn’t it feel good to be needed?

[jasmines-library]

Heyy

May I pleaseee request a Damian x reader hc whereee they're friends? Just hc on how it would work out, especially if reader is super hyper and kinda-sorta weird? Thank youuu‼️

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note:Hey! This idea is so cute! sorry for the mega wait!

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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first thing's first: Damian is hyper.

whilst he may put on a calm and collected front to seem disinterested when he's with his brothers, as soon as he is with you, he is the total opposite.

and, with your high energy, it's the perfect combination for mischief.

The pair of you are complete trouble makers.

the two of you were always finding a way to cause chaos around the bunker. Weather that was shifting objects a few inches to throw people off, replacing the sugar with salt, stealing all of Jason's chargers or taking the batteries out of all of the TV remotes, you always found a way to do something mischievous.

If you two weren't at the manor, Damian would find a way to spoil you.

He would constantly buy you things. Never with his own money of course. He would either haggle Bruce for money or simply steal it. Or in his words 'borrow it for an extended period of time with little to no intentions of paying it back'. Not that Bruce noticed anyway.

He would treat you to trinkets or chocolates that the two of you would eat at all of the best spots in Gotham.

Damian would know many spots for the two of you to hang out in that he discovers on his patrol.

If you knew about his identity, it would add a whole new level to your friendship.

He would probably deny your accusations at first. But when he opens up to it the two of you would get up to even more mischief.

Dami would proudly show you all of the gadgets in the cave or even help with basic training. He would be rather protective so would want to make sure that you can keep yourself safe.

He would take you to cool spots across the city and tell you stories of the villains and criminals he had defeated there.

Damian would treasure your friendship more than anything. If he could lock it in a safe he would.

He would 100% do anything you needed without batting an eye.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury

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[onejellyfishplease]

BEHOLD! my new TMNT iteration!

tmnt: Strained Eyes

In this iteration, much like rottmnt, all of the turtles have super powers. however, there is a little catch. while the rottmnt turtle's powers suit their soul, Strained Eye's turtles... don't.

(please ignore the fact that Mikey doesnt really look like a spotted pond turtle, i came up with the design first and had to find a turtle species second)

So! Mikeys powers basically allow him to cause every thing he touches to rot/decompose/desintergrate. he does have some control, but not reliably.

And though he is a good cook, there is a 50/50 chance that you will end up eating mouldy/rotten food. but all the other times it will be delicious.

he (obviously) has insecurities about touch, he is very aware that he could very easily kill someone with just one touch.

he can also grow mushrooms on command -he can also grow them on his shell which freaks out his brothers a lot.

also hes not actually blind in one eye! its mostly just cosmetic.

Up next we have Donnie! compared to Mieky hes a very brightly coloured boy!

his power is illusions! they can be incredibly lifelike. the problem is, These illusions can be permanent if Donnie doesnt dispel them, and sometimes are summoned only by his subconscious. So Donnie can struggle with figuring out if something is real or not.

The only senses his illusions cannot mimic are touch and smell (and taste) so he is usually extremely tactile, holding onto his brothers to assure himself that theyre real and not just a projection of his mind. he covers a lot of stuff in his lab (and his brothers) with strong smelling perfumes as well.

application wise- he uses his powers in tandem with his machines to make incredibly realistic looking androids. example: robot cat that looks like real cat. robot dragon that looks like REAL dragon, etc etc. he can also use them to appear human and turn invisible. (he can expand this to all his brothers) but he still hasnt gotten down the art of human expressions, so when ever he appears human he looks quite uncanny when he talks.

It's Leo!!

now Leo is ~battery powered~ his powers basically allow him to absorb energy straight from the source, such as absorbing the electricity off of an electric wire, or even sucking the energy from a person. or eating batteries.

an unfortunate side affect (depending on how you look at it) is that Leo doesnt need to sleep. ever. as long as he keeps absorbing energy then he's completely fine! and the more electricity/energy he absorbs the faster/stronger he gets! he also thinks faster! coming up with excellent strategies on the fly!

however- the same is true of the other way around, when Leo runs out of energy (which he does often- hes VERY bad at judging how much he has left) he will start to get more lethargic, his cognitive funtions will slow down and his short term memory will start to degrade.

If he completly runs out of energy his heart stops and he dies.

but dont worry! you just need to zap him with more energy and hell get right back up again (Donnie has a defibrillator just for Leo). though its best not to leave him in that state for long. because like that he is still functionally a dead body.

And finally we have Raph!

Raph breaths fire. a very simple power, in fact he can even hold his breath for hours apon end and his skin is extremely tough! theres basically no side effects too!

Hes so lucky compared to his brothers, having a power that suits him perfectly and doesnt mess him up in the head.

because of this, Raph has kinda moulded himself into the hyper aggressive mom friend, making sure they dont all run themselves into the ground because of the drawbacks to their powers.

he still has anger issues too <3

[bungeo-ppangie]

23:42 // at home

ღ pairing. riki x gn!reader

ღ contents. romance, fluffy fluff

ღ synopsis. just cuddling with a tired riki

﹒⪩⪨﹒scene below cut

"yn-ie~" riki mumbled, walking into your shared apartment after finishing practice. he looked just about ready to fall over, causing you to jump up from sitting on the couch and go to support him.

"tired?" you asked, smiling softly at your boyfriend as he nodded, his eyelids drooping as he pulled you closer.

normally, he would be jumping all over you and complaining about how long it took to teach jake the choreography, or teasing you by comparing your face when eating to a chipmunk. the fact that he wasn't a ball of hyper energy bouncing off the walls was a clear sign of him overexerting himself at work.

"let's just walk to the bed, okay? i'll cuddle you as much as you want." you promised him, gently beginning to guide him towards the bedroom. he mumbled halfhearted protests into your hair as you made him start walking again, breathing in your calming scent.

he immediately plopped onto the bed when you two reached the room, holding his hands up for you to join him. smiling, you abandoned any other priorities you had tonight and slipped into his arms. after all, soft riki wasn't a side of him you got to see often, and wasn't a side he liked to expose. seeing him like this meant that his battery was nearing 0, and now all he wanted was to rest with his arms around you.

he sighed in bliss as he hugged you to his chest tightly, eyes closing. he couldn't think of a better place to be right now, cuddling his love. actually, he couldn't think. he had what he wanted- what he needed- and just wanted to savor the moment now.

"yn..." he breathed, his breath warm on your soft hair. you smiled, reaching a hand behind his neck and playing with strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.

"mhm?" you said back, careful not to make any movements that would keep him from his approaching slumber.

"i love you..." he barely managed to say, fatigue beginning to overtake his senses. the last thing he heard before he fell into a peaceful sleep was you, saying,

"good night, my love..."

[moonlight-tmd]

Hi! I just want to say that your headcanon and aus are so cool! I love reading every one of them! I'm really glad i saw your blog, because my favorite character is bumblebee and blitzbee is one of my otp.

The idea that bee is more than what his team think he is really excites me (like your celestial, electro, spark-eater, and warframe bumblebee aus), because i can read bee being a badass or have some hidden trauma.

I do wonder if electro bee have any side effect with his power?

I hope you are doing well! :)

Thank you so much!

I do enjoy giving Bee more than they expect him to handle- which he handles just fine in secret. The thrill of hidden danger is too good. And yes, angst is the best.

As for electro Bee- as I mentioned in earlier posts about it, he gets his power via EM field or touch, that's why he likes being in the city- it makes him more energetic than if he was in the forest.

He can drain of electric energy anything that has it- machinery and mechs alike. He wasn't aware he was doing it until Ratchet pointed it out to him after her handed him a tool with full battery and it shortly died after Bee gave it back. Guess that's why mechs always seemed tired when he hung around for too long.

He also gets hyper during thunderstorms. You can't get him to sit still at all.

For the "bad side effects"- before he had his stingers he was struggling to keep his ability under control- he still does sometimes, if he's holding in too much emotion his static charge will rise and make electric arches across his frame and to nearby things that conduct electricity. He accidentally zapped his teammates few times when they were arguing, they try to do less yelling and more reasoning in behavior so Bee won't get too mad and get the point across.

Since Bee's circuitry is fucked enough to not make him take shock damage I imagine he wouldn't notice if he has high static charge, he's just go about his business and it often ends up in his frying something/someone's circuit if it/they are too close. Ratchet has started checking his EM field everytime Bee comes back from somewhere so they won't get hurt nor something gets broken.

A funny one- Bee is essentially a walking battery. He has a lot of energy stored for such small size, if need be his teammates will sit him down plug those weird car battery clippers to his horns and make him the backup power supply for the plant. He often just plays games on his pocket console while sitting near the braker box all upset, Optimus always gives him baked sweets to make up for these situations.

That's all I can come up with for now, thank you for the ask! And ye, I'm a lil iffy from all the shit blooming rn but I'll be fine! Have a good one yourself!

[carionto]

Plug and play... just don't forget to check the voltage

The Pirate Admiral (still self appointed title) Big Thrasher had finally done it! He had acquired a piece of overpowered Human technology - a gravitational beam weapon system - for his undefeatable* fleet (very much defeatable with a factual track record of failure. Twice.). (he got it off a space yard sale)

They had mounted it on his prized flagship - Thrashinator!!! (exclamations points are indeed part of the name) - and with the boost of confidence boosted towards the nearest trade depot, leaving the rest of his fleet scrambling to catch up.

"Surrender all your precious valuables, scruffs! Big Thrasher is taking ownership of everything in my sight!! Refuse, and I'll let this H U M A N made gravity gun do the rest of the talking!!! Humha mha mha mhaa mmmhaaaa!!!!"

A few quiet moments later, someone from a docked trade vessel hailed the Thrashinator!!!. It was a strange looking ship, it had what looked like wheels and a... exhaust pipe and air intake grill? What mattered more was the person on the other end was a Human, speaking in what the translator indicated was a forced accent.

"Howdy 'dere, pardner. I hear ye be threatenin' this 'ere fine establishment wit' somthin' ya took from ma' folk. Ya kno' wat I say to dat? Do it, pal. I bet yer countin' yer chickns' 'fore they hatch'd."

Having a Human talk to him in a veiled threatening way caused some discomfort and apprehension in Big Thrasher, but he told himself - No! Don't be scared by their taunts. Humans have only ever been lucky. You are undefeatable in a fair fight! And now it will be a fair fight! YES!!

FIRE THE GRAVITY GUN!!!

The Thrashinator!!! began to hum with power, the gravitational beam weapon system was charging up, the strain of unfettered engineering colliding with the reliability of countless eons of proven designs used throughout the Galaxy. Then, when the Thrashinator!!! was noticeably beginning to vibrate from the raw force exuded by the hastily attached piece of foreign machinery plugged into their native power generators, Big Thrasher looked at the dials.

2% charged.

Before he could process what the number meant, there was a ship-wide blackout, followed by the backup generators meekly kicking in. However, due to the built-in redundancies of Human weapons always wanting to be available, those too got fried as their collective battery power added a whole 0.3% to the charge.

Human weapons, all systems really, are power hungry. Not to say they are inefficient, far from it, it's just that fundamental design principles differ when you do, in fact, have access to infinite and fast energy in the form of miniature stars.

Anyway, the rest of Big Thrasher's fleet soon caught up and, using recently observed Human tactics, attached several hyper-drives to the Thrashinator!!! and jumped to a safe haven.

The space trucker Jenny "Way Jane" Klara, who taunted Big Thrasher, had a few weeks of extranet fame from her posting the "confrontation" and subsequent posts such as "LOL, Aliens forget to check the voltage, EPIC FAIL!" on social media. She quickly got bored though and went back to being the massive gear-head she is and talking in almost pure technical terms, inspiring a small following to get into hyper-modifying their vessels into other similar "retro" style vehicles.

[rakubalka]

Kujutsu Sorcerer Tsuna

This one is also for you @khr-guilded-cage

I got the idea while tinnking of one more jjk x KHR crossover for you

We ended up with this hope you like it

___________________

We start with Tsuna being put in Jujutsu High because of the fact that he has been for literal years dealing with all his emotions without an out so they started to accumulate inside himself . And as a result he has a lot of curse energy and because he doesn't have access to his flames his instinct goes for his talent in jujutsu (which he actually has)

Nana being Nana doesn't question why her son is admitted into a school he didn't apply for . Neither does she question why he stopped sending her letters a few months into his first school year . And she doesn't tell anyone about it , because why would they want to know what her useless Tsuna is doing ?

Tsuna is in the same years as Shoko , Gojo and Geto . The first year was interesting and just new (with no one actually bullying him) , the second even more so and in the third he had to save a junior of his from dying .

Anyway for the second year almost everything that happened in canon is as such except tanks to bring in the field and having to face death regularly the seal has cheeping to pieces little by little as a result of which he has been regaining hyper intuition. And what his intuition has been telling his is to have Shoko on stand by with his own technique ready to save someone . So he does and it thankfully allowed them to at least keep Riko alive intill Gojo comes to act as a battery for positive energy to the people who know how to heal aka Tsuna and Shoko .

One of the few good things that came from that is Tsuna breaking the seal and going active . And having an active Sky to newly turned cloud to mist Geto makes it so doesn't become a genocidal maniac , don't get me wrong he still gets his revenge but he doesn't go into that very dark spiral .

Riko did become the part of Tengen . Her body was just too weak to be able to continue to live for much longer and with this at least some part of her will live . She still got a grave so everyone can mourn the life she could have had ting turned differently .

Afther the mission Tsuna got the Flame talk form principle Gakuganji (who is a mist) as he is the only person that he knows of is flame active in the jujutsu society in Japan .

Later on Tsuna without meaning to gets his friends to also go active . It was a chaotic weekend .

Later on they meet Skull who is Gakuganji's Sky and only alive classmate as everyone else from their graduation year and up and down at school has died , hell Skull is technically speaking also in the dead count as he faked his death . At least Gojo now has a person to whom he can bitch with as to how annoying having the Six Eyes is .

Ironically enough Gojo is now also the heir of the Carcasa if Tsuna doesn't get the mafia family .

Times fly by with Geto adopting twin girls and becoming a teacher in jujutsu high with Shoko as the school doctor and with Tsuna and Gojo trying to change Jujutsu society for the better , with Nanami and Haibara in the background doing their things .

And at some point an informant of theirs (and Skull) calls to inform them of the Sun Arcobaleno maving to Japan to train a heir after speaking with Don Vongola . And they have unblurred the family history of everyone so they know that Reborn is coming for Tsuna and seems to be expecting a 14 years old boy not a man in his mid 20s . So they (especially Tsuna) decide it's perfect time to make Reborn play a "little" prank .

From Reborn point of view things are as canon in reality they are not . What Tsuna is doing is teach a group of kids who will almost certainly end up in his high school while fooling a hitman . And raising four or more children at the same time .

The "big" reveal happens in the Varia arc . More specifically after Timoteo got out of the varia cloud . The moment Timoteo goes into consciousness Tsuna is breaking from the front door to yell and curse at him and Lemitsu . After which he threw the rings at Xanxus general direction and decided he is taking the kids with himself and in rolling them early in highschool .

Even with Reborn and the whole of Vongola they that and didn't find Tsuna .

The next time Tsuna is seen is in the Arco arc . Needless to say Tsuna and his Harmony absolutely destroy everyone else . And forces them to listen and work together or else .

With the jjk side of thighs itadori , Megumi and Nobara are not the only first years this time instead they are in the part of the biggest graduation year the school has seen in decades if not centuries .

And the shinanagans continue .

_________________

Tsuna's cursed technique is called Resonance for those curious . It allows him to multiply cursed energy and to strengthen other people's cursed technique . The drawback is that he has to be emotionally close to the person for any more than 5% of his technique's actual power to be drawn . Harmonization automatically puts a person in his 80% range aka almost instantly they become around 4 times stronger and he is even closer with his Guardians so they are pretty OP .

[spankingtheatre]

Vigilance Costs Energy

The feeling of being drained after a social event is now so well-known, it's almost an introvert cliche. Sadly it makes introverts seem somehow flawed, like leaky buckets, or faulty batteries that discharge too rapidly.

But what if there was really no inherent fault in introverts at all? Perhaps what really exhausts people - regardless of their inner psychology - is having to maintain a state of extreme vigilance when socialising.

It can't be a coincidence that when we're with friends, our energy seems to last so much longer, despite being naturally more high-tempo than encounters with strangers. Perhaps that's a clue, that when we're comfortable being ourselves, we don't have to suppress the parts of us that we'd rather not show. Putting on an act - now that is exhausting.

Thomas Jefferson's famous quote about the price of freedom being eternal vigilance equally well applies to social situations. We want to be free to be who we truly are, but we're wary of letting our guard down. That's why sexual vulnerability is so difficult.

We are vigilant in social situations not because we lack courage, but because we're not naive. We learn from an early age to be wary of assholes, and those who might take advantage of our nature to exploit us.

Someone who's submissive will be rightly concerned that dominant individuals will take advantage of their neediness. How do we ever know anyone we encounter is saying what we want to hear whilst hiding their true intentions?

It's not that every stranger has a nefarious agenda. We'd be doomed to a lonely fate if we truly believed that. It's just that everyone is driven by their own motivations, and social niceties dictate we don't all lay our most personal secrets on the table the first time we encounter someone new.

Everyone's true intentions are revealed progressively, as we enter the social and sexual dance that leads to intimacy. We learn to place our trust in those who earn it. That's why relationships often begin with a kind of terrifying audition, with both partners hyper-vigilant for red flags - especially if they've been hurt badly in the past.

But maintaining such high levels of vigilance is literally exhausting. We're curating how others see us, in how we act and dress, and what we choose to talk about. We analysing reactions, and adapting how we appear. Inside, our hindsight critic is already berating us.

Yet we can not avoid others forming judgements about us. Even when we play safe, we're being judged, and we may be inadvertently conveying completely the wrong impression about ourselves. We might be passionate inside, but hide it so well that we appear dull and emotionless.

So we shouldn't fall into the trap of wanting to appear perfect in the eyes of others, because we can not possibly know their idea of perfection. Perhaps they just want us to be our most authentic selves, and would be greatly honoured to be trusted with our deepest and most precious secrets.

Until we drop our mask, we'll have no idea if others will find our interests hot or icky. But we can be sure of two things: if we've chosen our friends well, they'll be open-minded and love us regardless, and we burn more brilliantly when we're not hiding our flame.

We'll never quite lose our innate social vigilance, so it's helpful to remember that none of us is actually socially flawed, and it's probably our anxiety about how we're perceived that really exhausts us.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Nissan Hyper Adventure concept, 2023. The second vehicle in Nisan's series of EV concepts for the Japan Mobility Show on October 25. It features Nissan’s e-4ORCE all-wheel-control system. Its large-capacity battery can double as an energy source, allowing users to power up gadgets and light up campsites. The rear bench seat can rotate 180 degrees to create a comfortable sitting area that faces out of the vehicle’s rear.

[aviancataclysm]

MY . MOST ELABORATE LEVEL PERSONIFICATION YET. THIS TOOK ME 4 HOURS

>>HYDRA<< (hcs & transparent ref below)

it/its (but doesnt rly mind if you use any other pronouns)

nicknames itself hydra

around 140cm tall standing up but weighs a lot (over 100kg i think) because of ALL the clunky mechanical extensions. said extensions are normally somehow hidden so its got a very compact build

eyes and certain parts glow in the dark

extensions are usually for combat purposes (most are claw-shaped or have saws/gears attached, yeowchie!) and they're just. moving objects you see in the level. these extensions can also be used to scale walls (with notable damage done to the wall in the process in most instances)

it also has an "aerial mode" - a pair of wings will come out and the centipede part of body would gain hover. the cost is fast energy drain and the inability to use regular claw extensions while using wings

manic energy 24/7/365. where the hell does it get all of that from (good batteries ig... though from how hyper it constantly is it needs to sleep/recharge a lot)

it also has access to lasers

eats radioactive materials and converts it to energy. probably raided a few power plants before. also eats other inedible objects but doesn't react well to ingesting stuff from biological lifeforms (because although its digestive acid can deal with everything well, it's been hardwired by its creators to be averse to ingesting biological materials to discourage it from killing people - that didn't work out very well because there is another motive to kill)

attention span in the negatives <- explains level length rather than stamina

its bite force can probably crush metal

its metallic parts are waterproof

it has dyscalculia and memory issues (doesn't even remember creators' names)

was made as a lab experiment / living weapon but escaped . killed tons of ppl in the process. the fact that it is wired to kill is kinda awful for self reflection actually but it doesn't do that a lot anyway (it also gets 10x more sadistic when kill instinct is active. slight change in personality)

touch starved / CREATURE LOVES PATS

the way i write them is going with whichever thought pops up first, no matter how impulsive or intrusive

voiceclaim is bill cipher 🤩

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright BG3/MHA AU.

All Might is told by his future successor he would much rather tell his parents about his new Quirk and everything that happens with it. Worried but understanding the concerns he agrees. When he goes to the house, he's met not just with Midoriya In’Ko but also her husband Gale and their wife Karlach. Oh and their friends Shadowheart, Astarion, Jaheria, Minsc, Lae’zel, Halsin and Wyll!

AKA: In’ko is a Githyanki Tav who left Faerun with her partners because the bombs inside them went dormant being in a world with less ambient magic. They found Izuku who'd been abandoned for being Quirkless and took him in. In’ko took the name Midoriya and no one questions it since they kind of just think she has a mutation Quirk.

While the trio live in Japan, their friends don’t. They visit though through a portal and love their nephew.

Funny enough, Izuku has barbarian training from Karlach. He's got a lot of rage from his treatment and she decided to teach him to harness it. He ends up being a wild magic barbarian solely cause I think it would be funny.

So Izuku is getting OFA as well as being a barbarian. In’ko and the others after a while let All Might in on the truth who ends up helping them solidify their adoption and hides the info Izuku was adopted. Good thing to when his bio parents try to claim him back when he wins the sports festival later. Turns out his bio dad (Hisashi) is Endeavour’s cousin who tries to get him to help.

Endeavour refuses because a) he doesn't like his cousin. And b) because he only wants Shouto to be the shinning new star of the Todoroki family and he's furious that Izuku turned his son into a chicken with his ‘energy surge’ from the power up during their fight.

There's a lot of shit that goes down with the Midoriya family though to. Gale is the only one with any real childhood among the parents (Karlach did have good parents herself but she was working for Gortash as a teenager and being sold into slavery) but he also was taken advantage of by his mentor which took years to understand. He's hyper aware of All Might who takes one look at this guy and how he acts, going: ah I see. Trauma.

In’ko was raised to kill her fellow kids and be a soldier. She is still soft and kind but her hard edges are there.

Nezu also ends up learning of them and helps solidify their papers while also making them seem like heroes who have retired from covert ops. It actually works for them since they can reference their adventures.

“Right the time we had to over throw that politician who was trying to murder everyone.”

“I wonder how Dame Alyin is doing now that we freed her from being used as a battery due to her powers. Haven't heard from her in a while.”

“Jaheira called. There's a mission to do a raid on a trafficking compound. She's asking if I can lend some fire power. I'll be gone for a bit.”

Just… Izuku being raised by three traumatized people who love him dearly and him just being a little barbarian they're so proud of.

[snootlestheangel]

Just A Dude!Ghost Monster AU

Side note before this post gets rolling, I love that my post with the highest notes starts with "I don't know who else" and I think that's very reflective of what Tumblr is like XD

Anyways

We're doing it! We are writing a Monster AU featuring Ghost as the only human despite what everyone else thinks! As far as I am concerned, mostly gonna post it here on Tumblr, since I don't really have much right now for it, mostly just little blurbs but if needed for readability, I'll put it on AO3 (under my profile FeelzMaster)

I'm gonna go ahead and give y'all the rundown of what species are featured, kinda what this world's like, the stuffs, ya know? TW: talks of death (just how they can die, relax)

Soap

To be 100% honest, I really wanted to do the whole werewolf!Soap thing cause it's just so perfect for him, but I thought back to a post I made about him being lightning and thought HUH WHAT IF?

So, partially inspired by @tactax-art and their depiction of Soap dealing with fire 'n shit, I have made Soap a unique type of "nymph". Technically, nymph isn't the right word, but neither is elemental, and the true name of these things is so old it's real translation has kinda lost meaning so they stick to describing themselves as "nymphs" or "elementals".

He is a Lightning Nymph, which is rare but that's apparently what happens when you cross an "atmospheric" air nymph (his mum) and a less traditional water nymph (his dad). He's often seeing consuming/messing with things that have electrical charge in order to keep up his own energy (Gaz once had to watch him literally lick an exposed outlet and maintain a straight face). Every time it storms, he's outside somewhere as high as he can get so he can soak up the natural static energy that comes with storms. He can and will shock people for the fun of it.

As for abilities, he's obviously highly conductive, can manipulate electrical energy but it's pretty exhausting so it's more of a life or death thing, he can glow in the dark if he wants to, and he's hyper aware of changes (due to ~energy~). His diet is batteries... Jk, but seriously he does not eat like a human would, he straight up eats things that will help with energy. Like I said earlier, he's licked an exposed outlet like it was an espresso shot. Downside is he can't see for shit in the dark so he's reliant on sensing energies, nightvision, or having one of his buddies that can see in the dark guide him. Can be killed if his brain stem is destroyed, but is also very weakened by the typical stuff (gunshots, stab wounds, severe bodily trauama, etc). but can be severely weakened by being trapped in insulated rooms/wrapped in insulators. If exposed to these things and not able to find a sustainable source of electrical energy, he will die. (rubber, steel, copper are some good insulators)

Gaz

I don't know why but I'm gonna make him a Siren. For some reason Siren!Gaz just melts my heart and I wanna hold him. I don't care if he can lure me to my death with his voice, I wanna hear him sing :'(

He's typically pretty human appearing, it's a natural instinct for Sirens, but when he's tired or distracted (like working out/doing paperwork), you can start to see some very fish-like qualities. Mostly very gorgeous iridescent scales around his ears, eyes, neck, shoulders, knees, top of his feet, and back of his hands.

Can breathe underwater, has the best vision in the dark, eats like a typical person but with more sea food cravings or cravings for fatty foods (like human), when in full Siren form he doesn't have a "mermaid's" tail, it's much more shark-like so he can accelerate really fast. Generally just more shark-like, except his scales are fish-like. His nose, like sharks, is super sensitive to certain changes, so booping his nose always throws him off if it's surprise, but he will also bump his nose into people/things without realizing it to get a better sense of it. Can be killed by things humans can, susceptible to parasites.

Price

Honestly, his has been the hardest but I'm gonna do changeling. I honestly don't know a lot about them, and quite frankly I've already got one homebrewed monster here, so why not another?

He's definitely the one everyone mistakes for being human cause he's so good at keeping up appearances. But there are always times where Price manipulates his appearance/body just enough that it's a little startling for those that believed him to be human to suddenly realize he's very much not.

He's got better eyesight in the dark than a human, but nowhere near close to what Gaz has. He's good at picking up on scents though, as his nose is a bit more attune to sniffing out humans than anything. He's not a bloodsucker, but changelings typically feed on weakened/ill/very old/very young humans, so he's able to tell when something is wrong with someone. Stifles the more violent urges of his species by eating a primarily meat heavy diet with a lot of raw veggies for the crunch. Most susceptible to things with iron or salt (obvi) but can still be fatally wounded by stab wounds/gunshots. Most other stuff won't kill him but it'll certainly hurt and he'll complain the entire time.

Alejandro and Rudy

These two are werewolves and Los Vaqueros is their pack :'). Most Vaqueros are also werewolves, but they do have a variety of other creatures commonly found in North America.

And finally, the whole point of this: we got our boy Ghost as a literal human being. Nothing more, just a dude. A dude with so much fucked up shit happening to him constantly it's just assumed he must be inhuman. NOPE! He's just a dude, a very very unlucky, and probably cursed, dude.

So yeah, that's what I have so far! Working title is "Cheers to the Unknown"

Taglist (if you want added let me know in the replies/reblogs): @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom

[jj-5656]

Mercy On Me

With; James Potter

A/N: FINALLY. I am so sorry for how long this shit took. Honestly, I was expecting this idea to be short and sweet. Nearly 7k words later and here we are. Appreciate all your ongoing support, and I hope you enjoy!<3

Summary: The one where the two bumbling idiots are blind to the others’ affections amongst their argument, and James gets wasted. 

TW: Drinking, cursing NOT YET PROOFREAD

      Rain patters harshly against the pane of your window, with thunder grumbling every now and again. Wind whistles through the air outside, cutting through the comfortable silence of your bedroom. You love this weather. Finding solace in the sound of the rain and the grey hue that elicits in your bedroom. It helps you focus, convenient now that you’ve spent the past couple hours finishing up on homework assignments and studying for your upcoming Astronomy exam. The dynamics of the celestial sphere and the names of stars making up a series of constellations swim through your mind, yet theres’s an incessant fear you’ll manage to sit down in your desk come Tuesday and forget every piece of information you’ve just relayed. 

James Potter, one of your dearest friends, isn’t nearly as accommodating to rainy days. It means quidditch practice is canceled, you can’t meet up in the courtyard for the groups’ daily catch up, and you’re banished to the confinements of four walls. He’s sprawled across your bed, rotating through doodling, practicing new charms, and bugging you. 

He’s antsy. Your best friend is much like a hyper active child, and with no outlet for all his damned energy, he’s opted to pester you all afternoon. You try to block out his absent-minded humming and the scratching of his charcoal sketch sticks, but Prongs never makes blocking him out very easy. You swivel your chair to shoot him a glare when his rubber blending tool makes contact with he back of your head. 

“Can I help you?” It takes everything in you not to flick the shit-eating grin adoring his face now that he’s gained your attention. 

“Does it say anything in those books about dying of boredom? Because I’m starting to feel faint.” 

“Can't you go bother Pads or Moony? Why have I been chosen to bear the weight of your undiagnosed ADHD?” 

“You’ve been at this for hours, you’re not finished?” 

“Not even close, Jay. You know this exam is important.” 

“Can’t you at least take a break? Let’s take a nap.” He yawns, stretching over the expanse of your mattress. And while the prospect of sleeping beside him sounds tempting, you shake your head. It’s bad enough his offer elicits butterflies throughout your gut, when he’s merely seeking the company of a friend. 

“What about important exam are you not gathering?” He rolls his eyes, reaching down to grab the tool he’d used as a weapon and begin sketching again. Though not without a series of muttered complaints. 

You’re irritated. It’s not like you enjoy spending the better half of your day doing schoolwork. If you could afford it, you’d be right next to him and fast asleep ages ago. In a boarding school where you’re surrounded by peers for 80% of your day, there are times you wish to be alone. You regard the time to yourself as a chance to reset, considering your fragile social battery. Potter finds the notion completely foreign, and couldn’t possibly fathom why anyone would choose to not be around other people. You’re a little moody, sure. Which might be why you find his drumming of the charcoal against the book particularly distracting. 

After a few beats of deep breaths, you confront it. “Would you mind, Ringo?” He pauses, looking just past the pages to send you a cheeky smile. Your attraction only angers you further. It’s bad enough your feelings are unrequited, he could at least try to look less fucking good looking all the time. 

“If I weren’t being ignored, I’m sure I’d be less intolerable.” 

“Why don’t you go find Sirius, I’m sure he’s bored. Or even Lily, sure she’s studying in her own dorm.” He’s not particularly thrilled with your tone in regard to your shared red-headed friend. His crush on Lily, though having been topic of conversation every time he opened his mouth, was fast and fleeting last year. He hadn’t regarded her anywhere close to that sense ever since-Since forever ago. Additionally, James Potter hates feeling needy. Like you don’t want to share his company. Like his affections are too smothering, unrequited. 

“I’m not sure why you have yourself so worked up.” There’s a twinge of venom to it, you’ve unknowingly struck an insecurity. Your brows furrow with frustration, unaccustomed to his attitude. 

“Not all of us can thrive off our athletic reputations, or effortless grades.” You almost regret it as soon as it’s said. You hadn’t been looking for an argument, but you’ve definitely found one. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” He crosses his arms, loosened tie covered by the fabric of his robe. 

“James, I didn’t-” 

“No, you did.” He moves to sit up on your bed, hazel staring daggers into yours. Daring and unkind. It twinges something close to nausea in your stomach, though your blood still boils. “What did you mean?” 

“I mean you don’t even have to try! Your marks are near perfect yet you rarely study. And if anything, you have quidditch to fall back on for an excuse.” He scoffs, nothing short of disbelief and indignation. 

“So what, you think I don’t work for what I have?” You’ve definitely struck your nerve, but the bastards been disrespecting your social boundaries all day, and it’s most definitely gotten to you. 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“But it’s what you meant.” He stands, looming figure no longer comforting as it usually is. He’s almost intimidating, glaring at you as if you’ve just cornered him. 

“I only mean athletes get treated differently, sometimes. It’s not you fault it’s, just not necessarily fair to the rest of us.” There’s that scoff again, a roll of his eyes as he wets his lips.

“You’ve lost the plot, mate.” 

“Well of course you wouldn’t notice! You are one James, how would you be able to see it?” 

“I’m glad that’s how you regard me, y/n. Freeloading off quidditch as if I don’t work hard as well?” There's a tone of distaste as your name crosses his lips, it feels like a punch to the stomach. 

“Again, that’s not what I said.” You stand too, shoulders tensed with anger. 

“Whatever. I’ll see you later, considering I’m such a bother.” He’s out the door before you can open your mouth to respond. You jumped the sound of your front door slamming, collapsing back into your chair with an exasperated sigh. 

**********

Dinner is undoubtedly awkward. The rest of your friends are enveloped in conversation, but you and James keep to yourselves for the most part. Unfortunately, you were the last to make it to the Great Hall, and the only open seat was beside the only boy you’re currently at odds with. Mary’s been trying to get your attention the past ten minutes, Pads too. An evident ‘what’s with the tension’ but you and Prongs brush them off. 

Landon O’Connor is a friend of a friend. A fellow Gryffindor that photographs many of the school events and quidditch matches. James knows him fairly well, which is why he’s astonished the brunette boy approaches your table with a curt nod to James with his eyes only on you. Aiming to sit in the awkward gap between you and him with a kind smile. 

You have to grip the table to steady yourself when you’re pulled swiftly into Jame’s side. The boy has wrapped his leg around yours from under the table and pulled you toward him. Shooting a look to the bewildered photographer, he ignores your heated gaze. The group snaps their heads to watch as James squares his shoulders, eyes darting to yours for only a second before he offers your peer a gentle smile. 

“Evening, everyone. Doing alright?” There’s a chorus of commonalties Landon nods along to before his eyes land on you, flitter to the brooding chaser, and then back to you. 

“Y/n, still studying for Sinistras exam?”

“You kidding? I haven’t stopped.” He chuckles, settling beside you and allowing the group to fall back into their own discussions. Though you get the feeling they’re most definitely paying attention to how this is gonna play out. 

“You’ll be fine, you’re a smart girl. Besides, a couple friends of mine are meant to get together to review the material in the courtyard tomorrow. You’re more than welcome to join us.” A pleased smile pulls at your lips, falling immediately when James scoffs into his chalice. 

“Alright, Potter?” The boy nods, arm brushing against yours when he turns to face the both of you. 

“Fine. It’s just, y//n typically studies alone. Doesn’t appreciate any distractions.” You bite your lip, matching the boy’s challenging stare. There’s that same venom in his words, anger still prevalent from your argument. You break away first, offering another bright smile to Landon. 

“Actually, I’d love to join you guys. The company’s fine as long as it’s productive.” James feels his skin run hot when you shift on the bench to face completely away from him. Your attention solely on the bloke to the left. 

“Isn’t there a photography meeting during evening hours on Thursday’s, O’Connor?” You can feel James loom closer to you, and by the look on Landon’s face, his expression is not nearly as welcoming as before.

“Well, yeah. But today’s was optional and I thought-”

“I’m sure the lads are probably wondering where you are, yeah?” Irritation is heavy in his tone, it’s an apparent but unspoken  ‘get lost’. 

“Right, probably.” The brunette surveys your friends, not letting their quickly averting eyes go unnoticed. “Y/n, if I don’t see you at the library tomorrow, will I be seeing you at the party this weekend?” 

“Definitely. Good seeing you.” There's a shared grin between you both as he stands again, a hope he hasn’t been scared off indefinitely due to the awkward encounter. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, love.” James actually laughs this time, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder when the raven-haired boy kicks him under the table. Landon either doesn’t notice, or chooses to disregard it in lieu of being polite. 

“Could you be any more rude, Potter?” 

“Must be the privileged athlete in me.” 

“Must be!” And with that, you’re both silent again. Flushing under the bewildered looks of the rest of the Marauders. They get to talking again, a feeble attempt at concealing their eavesdropping. 

“You know, I’m starting to understand the whole ‘cutting tension with a knife’ phrase.”

“Shove it, Pads.” Both of you heat even more having said it in unison, only making the boy across grin even wider. Hands raised in a half-assed surrender, doing little to hide his amusement. 

**********

You feel much better about next week’s exam after studying with Landon’s group. Though the boy was fairly distant during your time in the library. It was bad enough you and James were at odds, now the bastard was scaring other boys off. What was the reason anyway? Potter had never made a move, never insinuated any interest despite your own. Sure, it hurt, but you wouldn't resent him for seeing you only as a friend. It made his distaste for O’Connor’s flirting nonsensical and infuriating, As if he didn’t necessarily want you, but didn’t anyone else to have you either. 

“Y/n/n, darling. Where are you? I’m risking poking an eye out with this eyeliner.” Sirius usually gets ready with the girls, arguing your pregame is much more fun than that of the boys. He maneuvers around the rest of your friends getting themselves ready amongst you and Marlene’s dorm. Arguing over which one of your tops they’ll be stealing for the night, or adding the finishing touches to their makeup. Sirius drags you onto the mattress beside him, offering the eyeliner stick in silent pleading. You oblige, tilting his chin up to begin. 

“Look up, Siri. Stop looking at me, especially like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m wounded or something.” You’re both quite enough so the girls singing along to the music from the record player or in the middle of conversations can’t hear. The raven-haired boy sighs, doing his best not to blink too hard and ruin your work. 

“It’s just, you and James haven’t spoken in ages.”

“It’s been two days, Pads.”

“That's a new record for the both of you. I can’t stand the constant moping, you’re both killing my buzz.” You laugh despite it all, rolling your eyes with fondness for his melodramatics. 

“I’m not sure he’s interested in speaking to me at the moment.” You hold up a tissue from your desk for him to wet with his tongue, wiping at any excess liner under his lash line. 

“Trust me, you’re all he’s been talking about. He’s not particularly happy with how things ended between the both of you. As are you, I’m sure.” His eyes dart over to your mirror, lips upturning in a pleased smirk at your handiwork. 

“Of course I hate to fight with James. I was in a bad mood and I just wanted to be alone. I should have communicated that to him.”

“Then why don’t you say so?” 

“Well what was that stunt he pulled at dinner the other night? Arguing with me gave him no reason to take it out on other people.” Sirius chuckles, shaking his head and reaching over to grab the bottle of liquor on your desk. 

“I think he would have given O’Connor lip had you been fighting or not.” You cock your head, about to press on when he passes you a shot. Holding out his own glass for you to clink. “To the first shot of the night, and most definitely not the last.” 

You hum, connecting your glass to his before throwing your heads back. Cringing at the burn in your throat and the shitty taste. “I’ve never understood your affinity to whiskey.” 

“Mends the soul or something, I don’t know. Alcohol is alcohol.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before standing, nodding his head toward the door. Marl’s Lilly, and Dorcas are already headed out to the common room as you follow suit. 

********

It’s well into the party when Remus approaches. Collapsing onto the well-worn couch beside you. You greet him with a warm smile, stretching before resting your head on his shoulder. He was your partner for beer pong, and you’d played against Sirius and James. Needless to say, you’d lost and both had to drink  more than your stomachs were comfortable with. 

“Alright, Rem?” You wrap your arm around his, enveloping him in warmth because he’s almost always chilly. He shakes his head, smile etching over his features. 

“We suck at Pong. I think I can literally feel the beer sloshing around in my stomach.” You groan, hiding your face into the fabric of his sweater with self-pitying chuckles. 

The game hadn’t been too awkward. You hadn’t spoke much to Potter over the course of the game, but laughed along with him at Sirius’ tipsy smack talk. His lingering gaze had etched a lump in your throat a couple times, but you’d choked it down with more beer. Hence the comfortable, warming buzz. Remus presses a kiss to your head, digging in his pocket to retrieve his usual chocolates. You oblige instantly, because he’s right, they always make you feel better. 

“Love.” He breaks the comfortable silence, surveying your cheekily drunken peers with admiration. “If I asked you a favor-” 

“Anything, Moons. You know that.” He hums, pressing the side of his cheek into the top of your head in acknowledgment. He’s never minded affection with you, and you’re more than grateful to be one of his few exceptions. 

“Would you talk to Prongs?” 

“Rem-” 

“For me?” His palm opens to offer you another chocolate, and you scoff at the clear bribery but snatch it anyway. “Sweetheart, he’s practically moping in the corner. Won’t even be Pad’s partner anymore. And you know how much James hates to break a winning streak.” 

“It’s his brooding athleticism, I suppose.”

“Y/n.” It’s a warning, a push to forgive.

“He was a jerk, Remus.” 

“You know how he can get, love. Some things you have to lay on him easy. Our Prongs is quite stubborn.” 

“You can say that again.” 

“But so are you sometimes, yes?” You meet his eyes, feeling properly chastised. “You know it’s only because he cares about what you think of him so much. He hated hearing you thought less of him for something he couldn’t possibly control.” 

“But that’s not what I meant, he should know that!”

“Perhaps our boy isn’t as self assured as he lets on sometimes.” His words send a pang to your heart, you know better than to believe Potter isn’t almost always in need of reassurance from his friends. “Regardless of how it was intended, you’ve both hurt one another. Yes?” 

“Yeah.” You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling terribly guilty. And rightfully so.

“So will you go comfort him? Because he’s just about trollied, and will not stop whining about how much he misses you. It was cute at first, but now it’s beginning to become quite irritating.” 

“Fine. But only because I love you.” 

“We both know that’s not your reason.” He scrunches his nose at you, teasing. You pull away with feigned disgust. 

“Oh, shove off.” 

Potter’s across the room in an arm chair, moping just as Moony had said. Even worse than you’d imagined, actually. A pout on his lips as he takes swigs from the beer in hand. Heart aching at the sight of him, it becomes clear just how much you’ve missed him too. He doesn’t notice once you approach, even when you rest your hands on the arm of the chair and bend at the waist to his level. Tapping his knee so he’ll lift his gaze from his lap. James goes from a deep frown to fighting a grin at the sight of you. A definite pinking to his cheeks, from the alcohol or your presence, you’re not sure. 

You wish to slap the voice inside of you that aches to press your lips to his. 

“Hi.” He’s beaming now, hand instinctively reaching out to push a stray strand of hair from your face. It risks your knees giving out right then and there at the gentleness of it all. 

“Hey, Potter. What’s up with the moping, Sirius needs his partner.” You nod to the game ahead, cheering along when Sirius scores. A large, warm hand slides up your forearm, and you tilt your head back down to see his hazel eyes staring up at you with an emotion you can’t quite read. Fondness fills you to the brim at the sight of it. 

“I’m not in the m-mood.” There’s an adorable hiccup that sounds between the last word, the ache in your heart growing tenfold. “Where’s O’Connor? Thought you’d be with him.” It’s genuine, there's no self pity or ill-intent behind his words. Instead, it’s almost solemn. Much unlike the James you’re accustomed to. 

“I’m sure he’s around somewhere.” You shrug, clear in your indifference. “But I wanted to check on you.” The corner of his lips twitch upward, but he bites it away. Another squeeze to your arm he hasn’t found the strength to release just yet. 

“It’s okay if you want to go hang out with him, Y/n. I’m fine. And you’re angry with me.” 

“I’m not angry anymore, James.” You can’t help but run a hand through his unruly curls, smirking when he leans into the touch. 

“You aren’t?” You shake your head, crouching to get more comfortable. 

“I mean, I was. I didn’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth. But I understand why you got defensive. It wasn’t fair of me to be rude just because I didn’t want to communicate needing some time to myself. I’m sorry, Prongs.” 

“I’m sorry too. Really sorry.” He runs a thumb over the arm still in his hold, eyes averting to observe the line of goosebumps it elicits with a soft smile. You fear you’re much too smitten of him for your own good. He pats the arm of the chair for you to sit on, and you comply. Looking at the partygoers around you. It’s comforting, despite longer participating in the festivities you’re still enjoying the atmosphere. 

Eventually James shifts, settling his head over your thighs with a contented sigh. He waits a beat, taking hold of your wrist and plopping your hand atop his head. You shake your head with a scoff, pretending to be irritated with his silent request. Fingers coursing through the strands of his hair once again. You catch Remus’ eyes across the room, sticking your tongue out to ward them off when he leans over to Sirius, the pair staring fondly. James doesn’t notice, hazed from the alcohol and the scent of your perfume. 

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders slows, so you lean over to meet his face. 

“Don’t fall asleep down here, Prongs. Don’t think I’m able to get you to bed otherwise.” The corner of his lip curls up despite his closed eyes, and you’re quite sure you’d be able to watch him for hours. 

“Can we go to bed, then?” 

“James Potter leaving a party early? Why, I must be dreaming.” He ignores your teasing, pulling himself off you and standing to his full height. There’s a slight wobble to him, one he has to balance by grasping either arm of the vintage chair. Consequently putting his head only inches front yours. A wave of pine and mint consumes you, along with a faint, lingering scent of whiskey. His eyes follow yours, having caught them averting to his lips. James smiles, one of his cocky, smug concoctions that urges you to smack or kiss him. Combative urges you usually tend to get when in his presence. 

“You’re trollied, Jay. Let’s get to the dorms before you lose your footing for good.” Your tone is light in teasing, missing the fall of his features as you duck under his arm and get to your feet. 

“Should we say goodnight to Moony and Pads?” The taller boy rubs at his eyes, letting you adjust the glasses he’s just pushed crooked. You look around the room, landing on the pair who are pouring another round of shots for your shared group of friends. James doesn’t notice, busying himself with fixing your necklace to bring the clasp to the back of your neck. Praying he doesn’t notice the goosebumps running over your skin, you nudge him toward the stairs with a gentle shake of your head. Knowing he’ll most definitely insist on another shot in lieu of being left out. 

“I’m sure they’ll be up soon, cmon.” He’s surprisingly easy to persuade, allowing you to take hold of his arm and guide him toward the steps. 

It’s a bit of a struggle. He’s nearly twice your size, so any miss-step he makes in his drunken stupor is a threat to both of you. 

“Gryffindor house truly is the best. Don’t you think, lovely?” A hiccup before he goes on. “I mean, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Wouldn’t have met any of my best mates had any of us been sorted otherwise.” He pushes a finger to your cheek, cocking his head when you swiftly shush him. Unaware his volume is much too loud to be this close to the dorms or your respected, sleeping peers.  A grin spreads across his face as he mimics you, pointer finger pressing to his lips as you approach his dorm. 

He collapses onto his mattress, shuffling under the covers and sighing as if the exertions’ exhausted him. 

 “Will you stay with me?” It’s almost unintelligible with his cheek pressed into the satin pillow.

“James-”

“Please?” Those puppy dog eyes again, he’s well aware of what he’s doing. You huff, fighting a smile as you discard your shoes. “You can grab a pair of joggers and whatever else you need from my drawers.” 

“I can’t stay here all night.” 

“Why not? The boy’s will be gone for hours, love. I don’t wanna fall asleep alone.” The alcohols undoubtedly loosened his lips, he wets them before continuing. “Always hated it when I was little, you know? I used to crawl into my mum and dad’s bed in the middle of the night. I’d hate waking up to nobody being there.” He turns away so you can change, pulling the comforter to the side so you’ll be able to slip in. 

“I loved my parents bed too.” You smile fondly at the memories, pulling one of his shirts over your head and admiring the emboldened, crimson, ‘Gryffindor’ lettering across your chest. “When they sent me to bed, I would sneak out of my room and wait on the steps. I liked listening to the telly when they were watching it together late at night. Always felt left out.” You both huff a laugh, slipping in next to him as he turns to face you again. 

James pushes a stray stand of hair from your face, eyes wandering over your features. You gaze up at his ceiling instead, admiring the constellations Sirius has permanently charmed on the ceiling. 

“You’re so pretty.” It’s unthinking, muttered into the darkness of the room and slipping away. Your heart thrums against your chest, and a there's beginnings of forming lump in your throat.

“Don’t, James.”

“Don’t what?”

“Say...Say things you don’t mean.” His brows furrow, offended.

“Of course I mean that. I’ve always thought it.” You press your palms to your eyes, willing emotion away. 

“I mea- I mean things you don’t intend to act on.” You fumble out, unsure of your own words and their risk. “Things I’ll overthink.” A pang of hurt shoots through his chest, but you don’t notice the own despair running over his face as you watch a shooting star pass overhead. Wishing he’d really meant it, really wanted to act on it.

“I just think you’re beautiful. That’s all.” 

“Please, Jay. This is mean.” You hate how your voice cracks, how he creates distance between you. 

Mean. He’d prefer just about any other insult in the book. Somehow, mean sounds far worse than anything else. Especially when he’s taking a chance. 

“Merlin, how is that mean?” 

“It’s just-” “Have I made you uncomfortable?” 

“No.” You’re almost incredulous, unable to imagine an instance he’d ever overstep a boundary like that. “No, of course not. That’s the issue, actually.” 

“Well...I’d like to kiss you, then. Would that prove it?” You almost choke on your own saliva, gaze snapping over to his for any signs of jest. He runs a thumb over your brow, blinking slow. 

“You’re drunk, James.” There's no cruelty to it. If anything, you seem relieved, maybe even pleased with him. Potter’s smug again, an inkling of hope igniting in his chest. 

“Sober thoughts, lovely.”

“Maybe-” you swallow, nerves stalling you. “Maybe you can kiss me in the morning, when you're sorely hungover and regretting all the beer pong.” 

“Alright.” His cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling, so he turns on his back so he won’t be able to look at you any longer. Hoping it aids the burning desire to cement his words. “You’ll stay though. Yeah?” 

“Always, James.” 

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

You’re weighed down by something awfully heavy the next morning. Sunlight seeping through the red and gold curtains adorning the window across the room. Sirius is sprawled out on his bed just under it, most agape with slumber. You narrow your eyes, confused with your surroundings. Up until you recognize the weight as a tanned, toned arm. Pulling you closer subconsciously. James is so close his breath fans over your neck, sending chills down your spine. You make a meek attempt at biting back the grin pulling at your lips as the memories flood in. 

Though the smell of coffee beckons you from your admiration of the sleeping chaser in front of you. Seriously, how someone looks that angelic fast asleep is beyond you. Carefully, you push the greedy extremity from your waist, slipping out of the sheets and shuffling toward the common area of the dorm. 

Remus stands over the stove and tends to pans of food whilst averting his gaze to a book beside him on the counter every now and then. You considered yourself a bookworm before you met him, having been utterly humbled ny his sheer addiction for literature. 

“Morning.” Its awfully complacent, Lupin doesn’t even look at you during his greeting. Tone heavy with self-satisfaction and suggestive teasing. 

“I slept next to him, Moons. I’m not having his children.” You pour yourself a cup of coffee, eager to indulge in the boy’s expertly crafted blend. 

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t have to.” You both turn your heads into the direction of an audible groan. James shuffles toward the both of you with his head low and shoulders hunched, grabbing at air until it connect with your mug. 

“I was drinking that.” It earns another grunt, you and Moons sharing an amused glance at the boy’s obvious hangover.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“What, too much fire whiskey for our renowned chaser to handle?” James can only gag at Lupin’s teasing, shooting him a death glare through watery eyes. You rub his back, snatching back your coffee when he leans into your touch. 

“You minx.” He mutters, betrayed. “You know I’m vulnerable.” You only roll your eyes, accepting the plate of food remus hands over with a grateful smile. James  snags a piece of your toast, desperate to soak up the liquor in his stomach and much too keen on stealing from you today. 

“I’m going to attempt to coax Padfoot out of bed. Watch the stove, y/n.” Remus  weaves around the kitchen island with his own toast hanging between his teeth, hair still tousled from sleep. 

Potter’s staring at you, unreadable expression amongst his features as he chews on his (your) food. “I’m assuming you got me to bed last night?”

“Not without difficulty.” James winces, a hand running through his hair. 

“Sorry if I was a pain, love. If I’m honest, I don’t remember much past our reconciliation.” He adorns a tight-lipped smile, guilty with a twinge of hangxiety. You only shrug, aiming to reassure him. “We’re good though, right?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking awfully adorable despite the effects of last night’s alcohol. 

Truth be told, James remembers bits and pieces. He remembers laying in such close proximity, wasted and aching for your lips on his. He can’t shake the feeling that you’re holding back. Had he made move? Had you rejected him? You couldn’t have kissed. Surely no amount of alcohol would have erased that daydream come reality. 

“We’re good, James. And you weren’t a pain. If anything, I can always count on you for being a fairly good-mannered and giddy drunk.” There’s a tilt to his head, a sudden glint in his eyes.

“Can’t say I was too well behaved, yeah?” Your eyes narrow, curious if he’s hinting at your conversation just minutes before sleep. His gaze doesn’t leave you as you approach him, standing on your tip toes so your face is mere inches from his. Just when his lids risk fluttering closed, you back away, having pulled a new mug from the shelf behind him. 

“I’d argue otherwise, Potter.” 

 “Oh?”  Oh. Are you...flirting with him? That confirms it, something had happened last night. “No usual antics then? We just, went to sleep?” Your eyes narrow at his questioning, uncovering the suspicion in his tone with ease. You decide you quite like when he’s nervous. He approaches where you’ve sat yourself on the counter. Subconsciously fitting himself in the space between your legs. Eyes averting to the pair of his sweats you have on, drowning your feet from the length on you. His heart swells with an emotion he can’t quite pinpoint, something between elation and pride. 

“What else would we have done?” You take a smug sip from the steaming cup in hand, nose scrunching in feigned distaste when he takes it from your grasp and sets it on the counter. 

“I dunno.” It’s practically a whisper, his voice still rasped from sleep as his eyes search yours. Eager to sense any sort of hesitation or discomfort on your part. Large hands graze the collar of your borrowed shirt as they reach your neck, cradling your head as if it might dissipate in his hold. You wet your lips, swallowing hard. There's an evident acceleration in both your breathing, and you’re convinced this’ll finally be it. This will finally be the moment James Potter proves to you you’re not just one of his best mates. 

And he thinks so too. 

“Don’t be worried, folks. King of the castle is very much alive and well. I know you’ve all missed me dearly in the agonizing time without my presence.” Sirius waltzes into the kitchen with remnants of eyeliner clouding the skin around his eyes with a bright smile. Bastard, no matter how much alcohol he consumes, just about never gets hungover. He stutters in his approach to the kitchen, a clear realization he’s most definitely just interrupted something. 

Prongs rips away from you like your skin has singed him, scratching at the back of his neck with poorly executed nonchalance. Embarrassment looks bad on him, but likely worse on you. Considering how stupid you must look with such hurt flashing over your face. 

Maybe its a sign, an indication from some higher power this isn’t meant to be. Considering James’ breakaway from the embrace, it seems as though this was merely a heat of the moment occurrence. But you don’t do casual, and you definitely don’t jeopardize years of friendship for some crush that just may actually be unrequited. 

You’re off the counter and awkwardly adjusting the much too big clothes swarming you as Remus reaches the group of you. He takes one look between the three of you, silently snatching the newspaper in lieu of the crossword, and slipping back into the bedroom.

“Did I-”

“No!” James and you are shaking your heads with feigned laughter before Sirius can even finish. Mirth settles comfortably on his dark features, crossing his arms with raised brows. 

“I was just gonna ask if I missed the doorway for a cup of coffee.” Prick doesn’t even attempt to hide his glee, ignoring the daggers James bores into him with his now murderous hazel eyes. 

“Still plenty left in the pot, Pads.” You tuck invisible strands of hair behind your ears, ignoring James’ shift of attention that lingers on your frame. He looks like he’s about to speak, but you’re already turning toward the front door. 

 “Jay,” despite the nickname, there’s no lift to your tone like before. “I have to go. Fluids, today. Or you’ll feel like shit for even longer.” He nods with a mock salute, fully aware he’ll perpetually be feeling like shit for a completely different reason. 

You shout a farewell to Remus, and a pleading smile to an awfully merry Sirius before slipping out the door. Rushing down the hall and toward the girl’s wing without a second thought. 

Black shoves the slightly taller boy in front of him in a fit of exasperation. Fed up with his bumbling idiot of a best mate. 

“You’re a coward, Prongs. Really.” James shrugs him off, recounting your proximity mere minutes ago with an overwhelming surge of glee. He smirks despite it all, biting back the oncoming lovesick grin.

“You know, she’s the only one that calls me Jay?”

“Merlin, you’re hopeless.” 

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

There’s a knock at the door as you reach for your lavender-scented body wash, closing one eye to avoid the trail of shampoo threatening to run into it. 

“It’s unlocked Marl’s, just come in.” You assume it’s one of your roommates of course, but are shocked at the voice that sounds from the other side of the door. 

“It’s me, actually.” James presses his forehead against the cool wood of the bathroom door, reconsidering whether or not he should actually go through with this. 

“Who’s me?” He feels like a fucking moron. 

“Oh, uh, James.” A wince, an oncoming urge to bash his head into the door to knock some sense into himself. 

“James?” You tug on both sides of the curtain to ensure it covers the entirety of the shower. “Um-”

“I’d wait for you to be out but,” the chaser rolls his shoulders, unaccustomed to such lack of self assurance. “This is sort of urgent.” And now he sounds like a perv, swell.

“Everything alright? Just come in, I can barely hear you.” He does as told, knocking over your array of skin care products set up on the counter because he’s shielding his eyes. You poke your head out to watch him scramble with the bottles, dropping one as soon as he grasps another. 

“Shit. Fuck, sorry. So sorry.” You can’t help but laugh, eyes narrowed in endeared disbelief as his gaze stays trained on the floor, unable to even glance in your direction. When it’s finally settled, he gathers what little dignity he has left to sit with his back against the ledge of the tub. 

“I’m sitting, is that alright?” 

“Its fine, Jay. What’d you need?” And there it is again. Fuck, are you doing this on purpose? A quick shake of his head, and he scoffs despite himself. The only answer his mind can manage is ‘you’ but he figures that’s likely not the best start to this. 

“It’s just, I can’t stop thinking about last night.” He wets his lips, wringing his hands together. “I feel like I may have said more than you let on.” 

You hum, biting back a smile. “Said something you regret?” It’s playful, but the subtle worry in your tone is most definitely there. Potter knows you better than that. 

“What? No. Merlin, no. If it’s what I think, then definitely not.” The grin wins this battle, you ensure all the suds have been rinsed out of your hair before you peek your head out. 

His eyes are still screwed shut, despite his back facing you. He’s tense, body hunched in an attempt to make himself smaller. Though it doesn’t do much. You feel particularly fond of him, just then. Committing this frame to memory. 

“And what do you think it was?” 

“You’re making this sort of difficult, love.” You figure you’ve tortured him long enough. Though it's what he deserves, considering he's left you with bread crumbs the entirety of the past year. 

“James?” He’s barely heard it with the combatting sounds of the running water, but it was there. Soft, sweet, enough to have him wishing you’d say it a million times more, and then some. 

“Y-yeah?” He lets you tilt his head back, his jaw clenching with the tension. You bend at the waist, ensuring not to drop any water on him whilst clutching the curtain tight against your frame. 

And just like that. In the middle of the muggy, steam-ridden bathroom. You kiss James Potter. 

It’s a little awkward in this position. Though he’s so tall you’re not completely bent down, it’s straining for both of you. Which is why you finally decide to reluctantly pull away, his hand taking hold of your jaw to pull you back for a couple swift kisses that unleash a hoard of butterflies throughout your stomach. 

“You said you wanted to kiss me,” your lips hover over his as you whisper. Pulling completely away to preserve your racing heart. Potter scrambles to his full height, adjusting his sleeves because he’s unsure of what to do with his hands now that they’re not on you. 

“Can. thank the whiskey for the confessions, I presume.” You giggle, and he has to fight the urge to shoot his gaze toward you at the sound. “You’re so pretty. I always thought so.” It’s unthinking, rushed out because the shared silence discomforts him. He feels like an idiot again. But you’ve scrambled up any sense of his ego or wit and he’s a mess. “Thought I should say that.” He’s not entirely sure how to clarify how he feels without accidentally professing his all-consuming love for you. Might come off a bit strong, he thinks.

“Oh, you did. A few times, actually.” Potter groans, pressing his palms into his eyes and bowing his head to shield his flushing cheeks. You laugh even more. 

“Have mercy on me, sweetheart. Please.” Its your turn to flush, unaccustomed to the new pet name. James cocks his head after a beat of silence, arm over his eyes to face you without actually being able to see you. “Ah, you liked that one. Didn’t you?” 

“Piss off.” 

“In just a minute, sweetheart.” He’s awful, straightening with pride when you can’t muster a witty response to the teasing. “Can I just have one more kiss?” He steps closer, hoping he won't trip considering the lack of sight. “And when you’re finished up, I’m taking you out.” 

“Hogsmeade?” Your voice lifts with excitement, forcing a smile from him. 

“Whatever you want.” He searches for you, lips jutted out pulled into a frown when you let him chase air. His hand goes out, aiming find you but quickly reminded of your current state of undress. It drops immediately, fists clenched and then releasing. “Must you make me suffer even more?” You roll your eyes, pressing a peck to each corner of his mouth and then his jaw. Pulling the curtain between you just after. “Wh-what was that?”

“Another kiss.” You note simply, going for your conditioner. “Kisses, actually.” 

“We’ll have to work on that definition, dove.”

<3 Masterlist <3