#I could probably schedule these so they’re not posting all at once huh

[rosefinnigen]

fishnets photo dump!!

[ashipiko]

—NIKO CIMARRON

All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: October 24

Height: 176cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)

Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Likes: Making a profit

Dislikes: Getting outsmarted

Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things

Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot

Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

YUU’S INTERVIEW:

— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —

for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.

There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.

> You know what I’m here for, Niko.

> Why are you surprised?

No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…

It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡

> I think it matches your vibe.

> You’re one to talk.

Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.

…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.

> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.

> (…They’re cuter than expected.)

Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.

It’s about time to start though, huh?

> Yeah.

> No more wasting time.

INTERVIEW: START!

1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?

A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.

> No thanks.

> Why not?

They’re tasty, I prommie~.

2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?

Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.

3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?

Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.

If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?

Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.

4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?

Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.

If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.

5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?

Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!

> Not the focus of the question.

> That’s not…!

It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡

> Again, no thanks.

> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.

Keep me in mind~.

6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?

…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.

> You are annoying, but…

> (Would it be mean to say something?)

I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.

Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.

…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡

> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.

> Really, it’s fine, Niko…

Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡

Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?

> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.

> (That was a quick turnaround.)

…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.

INTERVIEW: END!

> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)

> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Niko is twisted off of Nick Wilde from Zootopia!

Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if it were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.

He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.

He can be considered a fan of Vil.

Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.

Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone seriously making moves on him.

Niko can also count as a bit of a heartbreaker. For the romantics around the school, everyone knows Niko as that kid who’ll charm you for a week and leave you heartbroken when he inevitability rejects you. It’s not anything against anybody, really, but more so the fact that Niko can’t ever imagine dating someone before he tells them his secret. It feels unfair to him. But people take offense to it nonetheless, the heartbroken people usually cutting Niko off as soon as they figure out that there won’t be anything working between them.

Because of the way some people leave him as soon as they sense no romance, Niko finds the concept of love to be sort of flaky. It takes a while for him to develop a crush, despite his flighty, flirty attitude.

Due to being a class 2-A student, Niko often ends up selling his treats most often there. Kalim and Silver are his number one customers, as Kalim buys bundles of them to give to Scarabia members, and Silver buys them for Lilia to enjoy.

Niko attends the Playful Land event and ends up staying in contact with Fellow Honest afterwards. This relationship ends up contributing a lot to Niko’s development.

Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.

He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.

Niko feels very guilty for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.

Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.

Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have, and the little bits he keeps on gaining.

Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.

More to be added!

^ the pawpsicle icons in this relationship chart represent whether if the character is an avid pawpsicle enjoyer (has the icon), has experienced it once but never had it again (once!), and if they have never had it.

[twistedmusings]

A/N: Planning to post some finished requests tonight thankfully but I wanted to share something super self indulgent with you guys since I just recently got an Alexa! I'm still kind of in a funk (since classes are STILL not over with) so thank you everyone for your kind words in my inbox q wq For now I only have Riddle and Leona...but if everyone likes it I'll make an effort to finish! I kinda am working on Azul's as we speak >:3 Warnings: Boys missing you terribly, Riddle justifying the breaking of rules and Leona realizing that he is talking to an inanimate object.

The Ramshackle Prefect leaves to go to RSA for a month, following a lead that could get them back home. And while the dorm leaders do miss them terribly, it seems one of them is hiding something.

. .

“AZUL-SHI DO SOMETHING.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader barely listened to his friend's request as he also crowded over Idia’s phone, the other five dorm leaders looking down at the screen as a pair of familiar eyes stared back at them.

“Where is Idia? Can you please hand me back to him?”

Riddle blinked at the sprite on the screen before looking back at Idia with a frown.

“Explain yourself, Shroud.”

Idia whimpered as he hung his head low in shame.

“[Y/N]-san...I mean...the Prefect left to go to RSA for a whole month, right? Crowley said it was to help them find a way back home but apparently there was some trouble there too and...and he brought them to fix it...”

Malleus’s neutral expression changes into something a bit sadder while Kalim lets out what everybody was thinking.

“To take them away so suddenly...I didn’t even get a chance to give them a goodbye party!”

“They’re only away for a month, Kalim.” Vil’s eyes stay on Idia’s phone screen.

“But I’m sure a party would have let them know how much I would miss them!”

Riddle clears his throat, “That still doesn’t explain anything about what I am seeing. Why in the world do you have something that looks like...that looks so much like them on your phone!”

Idia was sure this was hell. Of all the people to catch him using his phone during a dorm leader meeting, why did it have to be Riddle? What was he even supposed to answer to that question! That he missed talking to [Y/N]-san about the new animes that were releasing this week that he had purposefully made an AI from data Ortho had collected on them and their mannerisms?

He would rather die!

“I--I was testing a new AI! Just...for schedules and stuff like that! And I didn’t have anything else to base it on so I just took [Y/N]-san’s information and made a prototype! It’s not just going to go out to the public like that! They can customize it however they like--!”

Azul hums as he taps the screen, the sprite giggling as he touches their cheek before looking up at all of them expectantly.

“...A prototype, huh.” he smiles and leans back while taking his phone out, “Everybody stop crowding around him, we might as well be breaking his arm slowly at this point.”

The rest of the dorm leader's move back with only some protest, Idia’s eyes shining as he looks up at his other friend.

“Azul-shi…”

The dorm leader of Octavinelle grins, “If it’s a prototype then that means it needs users, correct? More people to test it out?”

“Eh?”

Azul puts his phone in front of Idia and smiles at him like he was just about to close a rather important business transaction.

“Well then I want the prototype as well. Download it to my phone, will you?”

“Eh?!”

Idia presses his phone to his chest as if Azul was about to take it, looking around nervously as the other dorm leaders take their phones out and set it in front of him.

“If it’s an application for scheduling then I could use it to keep Heartslabyul’s matters in check. I’ll take one too.”

“Ruggie is gonna be busy during exams...this thing better work as an alarm.”

“Surely this would help me keep track of my schedule for both the Monstro Lounge and school. I’ll take one with a statistics program built in, Idia”

“Oh!! I want mine to be able to sing! And can I also get them in Scarabia’s dorm uniform? I want to see what [Y/N]-san would look like!’

“I’ll take that as well. I also want a photo re-touch feature as well as one hour updates as to what is going on in my Magicam account.”

Each phone was placed in front of him as Idia felt his head start to spin. He just wanted to keep this thing a secret only for himself! He wasn’t even planning to release it, it was all just a lie so they wouldn’t know his greatest shame!

A shadow was casted over him, Idia looking up slowly as Malleus smiled and placed his phone down.

“I am eager to see your finished product, Shroud.”

The tarts in front of him looked absolutely delicious.

Trey had really outdone himself this time. The strawberries were cut into perfectly neat shapes and the glaze over them made them so mouth wateringly shiny that he could practically taste the sweet treat without even having to taste it!

Which only made his want of one grow even more.

“And here comes the next batch.” Trey smiles as he puts down another plate in front of him, Riddle’s eyes now staring at that plate while his vice dorm leader cleans himself up.

“When did you say the Unbirthday party was going to be today?”

“A-At three o’clock sharp.”

Trey nods as he looks at the clock in the kitchen.

“Perfect. I promised to meet Jade to get some herbs he has been growing as well as letting him teach me how to make this one soup they had in the Monstro Lounge about a week ago.”

He grabs his phone and heads out, leaving Riddle with a quick goodbye and a promise that he would make it back as quick as possible.

Leaving him all alone with two plates filled with his favourite treat.

The dorm leader looks around once...then twice...checking if anybody was coming into the kitchen before going back to stare at the plates.

It wasn’t like he was going to grab one

The Unbirthday party today would be using pastries that Trey had made yesterday. It was the third of the month so the rules required a completely different pastry. The strawberry tarts were most likely for tomorrow.

So Riddle could wait. He was the Heartslabyul dorm leader after all so not only could he wait but he was required to wait! As the dorm leader he was to set an example and he couldn’t let himself be seduced so easily by just two plates of such yummy looking tarts--!

He quickly takes his phone out and looks down at the screen, face flushing as he tries to remember how Idia told him to open up the new app.

“[Y/N]-san…?”

A face peeks out from the corner of his phone, smiling as it recognizes his face and steps out while giving him a polite bow.

“Good morning, Riddle-san! What can I help you with?”

He can’t help a small rush of excitement at seeing the Prefect’s face after not seeing them for two weeks. Riddle would make an effort to stop and talk to them whenever they made their way to Heartslabyul that not seeing them for so long had almost thrown him off his schedule.

And...he missed the conversations he had with them.

As the dorm leader and a student in NRC he didn’t necessarily have time to go to any other events or take part in any of the shenanigans others would get up to, not that he necessarily wanted to, but it was entertaining when the Prefect talked about it with him.

It felt like they were letting him into their world.

So maybe this substitute would suffice...it was a scheduling app after all so it wasn’t like he was using it for pleasure only.

“Would you please repeat rule 56 of the Queen’s handbook?”

The AI clears their throat as a book animation appears before them.

“Rule number 56: On the third of April, black tea should be served along with pineapple tarts. Followed by a game of cards in which the loser must pour the Queen tea for the rest of the Unbirthday party.”

Riddle sighs as he looks back at the plate of tarts.

“...I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow…”

“Wait until what?”

He looks down at the AI, the sprite blinking in confusion as it waits for an answer. Idia had mentioned adding a conversational feature…

“There is no rule about what to eat tomorrow so I decided that we would have strawberry tarts.”

“Are those your favourite?”

Riddle nods and steps out of the kitchen, making his way to his room as he stared back at the open door.

“They are. Ever since I was little. I couldn’t have many because of--”

He decides to not go deep into the subject.

“I’m sure Trey’s pineapple tarts will be excellent. I will just have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy the strawberry ones.”

The AI hums before the book animation pops up again, looking down and flipping a couple of pages before speaking up.

“Riddle-san. While it does say that black tea should be served with pineapple tarts...it does state that it should be done for the Unbirthday party and the Unbirthday party only.”

He frowns, “Your point?”

“I am sure no rule would be broken if only the Queen has a tea party before the Unbirthday party. From what I am seeing here--”

They flip a couple more pages.

“There is no rule about a tea party of one enjoying a strawberry tart.”

Riddle blinks before looking down at his phone, the sprite smiling as they shut the small book and lets it disappear with a ‘poof.’

No rule would be broken...if it was only a tea part of one?

He looks down at the AI when he hears them giggle.

“Riddle-san looks really happy.”

A blush covers his face at being called out on how big his smile probably was.

“Did I help in any way?”

The dorm leader takes a deep breath before smiling as he looks down at the phone and presses his fingertip on top of their head, rubbing it back and forth as if they were petting them. Something he knew he could never really do with them in real life lest he was looking to get odd looks.

“More than enough. Would you like to accompany me during this tea party?”

“Yes please!”

Riddle nods before looking around once more and clearing his throat.

“And...would you refer to me as ‘dorm leader’ from now on?”

The sprite nods as they give him a polite bow.

“Yes, dorm leader!”

He would need to send his report of the app as quickly as possible, Idia had really outdone himself this time...maybe he could ask if he could get them dressed up in the Heartslabyul uniform?

Riddle still wished you would hurry back.

“Leona-san! Please wake up!”

The blankets on the bed wriggled a bit as the phone was tousled over from one side of the bed to the other, the sprite inside frowning as they tried again.

“Leona-san! Please wake up! Ruggie-san texted you!”

A hand comes out of the blankets before holding the phone up.

“Read the text out loud then.”

Sighing, the AI pulls the text up and reads out loud.

“Please be awake by the time I get there, Leona. I need to make sure I get your signature on these papers for the dorm budget. If you don’t I’ll hold your lunch captive!”

Leona’s face finally pops up from under the blanket, the man sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he speaks up again.

‘Oi. What time is it?”

“It is 3:14 in the afternoon, Leona-san.”

“And when did Ruggie send the text?”

“At 3:00 o'clock.”

He groans and lays back down, the pillows flying about as he holds the phone to his face and smiling when he sees the sprite looking down at him worriedly.

“You really do look like them…” Leona whispers before tapping the screen so that he is poking the sprite’s cheek, “What is that face for?”

“I’m just worried for you, Leona-san. Too much sleep is a symptom of some sicknesses so--”

“Hah? You think I would get sick so easily?” he yawns and stretches, “I’m different from humans. Beastmen need a lot more sleep than regular humans do so...I’m just doing what my body tells me.”

Green eyes watch a notepad appear before the AI as they write down the information, smiling as they close it up and watch it disappear.

“I’ll keep that information in mind so I can serve Leona-san better. Thank you so much.”

Leona blinks at the words before a lazy smile crosses his face.

“Serve me better, huh? Never thought I would hear you say that.”

Usually the herbivore would be frowning and telling him to get up and actually take charge of his dorm and how he didn’t act like any grown up they knew. The sprite, however, tilts their head in confusion before speaking up once again.

“I am yours, after all.”

“Damn right you are.”

He looked at the phone a bit more, the sprite smiling up at him as he poked their cheek or patted their head. A part of him wondered if you would react like that with him as well. You always seemed so annoyed with his antics yet you never failed to come back to talk to him, telling him how he needs to get his act together if he is ever planning to go back to the Afterglow.

Leona would bet money that if he patted your head out of nowhere you would be highly flustered. Getting praise from him was something that didn’t happen often, after all.

“What day is it?”

“The 12th day of April, Leona-san.”

Another two weeks of you being gone. He frowns and closes his eyes as he thinks about you meeting those other students. RSA was just full of idiots...like his brother--

“Dammit.”

He slams the phone down but blinks when he hears a small yelp, turning the phone back around to find the AI looking rather frazzled with their eyes closed and hair all over the place.

“Shit. Are you....okay?”

Great, he was asking an application if it was okay. He could understand why Idia would hide this, right now he felt like he was crazy.

“Y--Yes! It was just unexpected!”

The sprite fixed itself up quickly and smiled back at Leona.

“Are you okay though, Leona-san?”

The dorm leader chuckled and nodded as they set the phone down gently and laid down next to it. At least that part was very much like you, worrying about others before focusing on yourself.

“You’re not going to complain? I almost just threw you.”

Without missing a beat, the AI stands up and looks at him.

“Leona-san is still working hard despite his body telling him to sleep. My program tells me that it would be a natural emotion to feel frustrated if you are not allowed to do something you want. Normal actions of frustration speak of physical manifestations such as kicking, punching or throwing. I was simply calculating it for it to be the latter and for it to happen towards a pillow. I’ll make sure to fix my calculations next time.”

He shakes his head and sets the phone down gently.

“Weird thing. You shouldn’t forgive someone so easily after they wronged you.”

“But you didn’t wrong me, Leona-san. I didn’t feel any pain. I just want to make sure you are feeling your best! You are my number one priority!”

This machine is going to make him go insane, he knows you would never say that but the fact that Idia had gotten your voice down so well that it was almost as if you had just told him he was your number one---

He was already getting a headache.

“Set an alarm for an hour. Ruggie will take around that long anyway.” Leona lays down and wraps the blankets around him.

“Of course. Alarm set for one hour. Would you like to be woken up with a personalized message?”

Leona hummed before grinning.

“Wake me up by calling me ‘King’.”

The sprite fixes its settings before giving a polite bow.

“Yes, my King. Please enjoy your rest.”

After this he would send his report to Shroud and maybe ask for an outfit upgrade. He only needed to show him some Afterglow clothes and the nerd would probably be able to make the AI wear them, right?

Whatever, the moment you came back Leona would make sure that you gave him some headpats for making him wait so long.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

[boredfanwrites]

Buddie #1

There is not a bone in my body that can accept that in any other universe they wouldn't be perfect together. Post 4x14 so SPOILERS for that. This got so much longer than I thought it would be. Sorry in advance, there's much more under the cut.

· Eddie tells him about the will. Chris goes to Buck if anything happens to Eddie. Which it very nearly did.

· It causes Buck to actually stop and think things through before rushing into danger.

· The rest of the team question it while Eddie's recovering but he just says there's someone relying on him now.

· They take it to mean Taylor - well Chimney and Albert do, Hen and Bobby are more clued in.

· Buck talks about Eddie and Chris like he did when they quarantined together - like they're living together again.

· They are.

· Buck moved in to help Eddie and his recovery, with Ana stepping in when he was on shifts - even if she tended to undo everything Buck had done.

· He tells himself it's because she's not used to the way he and Eddie do things - yes that one singular bowl and plate live in the lower cupboard, it's so Eddie can reach them easily. Chris always picks the movie on movie nights, Eddie and Buck alternate when he's gone to bed.

· Eddie is stubborn as always, but has managed to allow Buck to help him dress and shower - Ana is very much not allowed, despite her protests they're barely in a relationship.

· Eddie explains to Buck that yes, they've been together for six months but they've not really been togetherand he quietly admits that he regrets telling Chris so soon.

· Buck calms him and says that it was right to introduce Chris to the idea of Eddie dating, but yeah, maybe it wasn't smart to spring Ana on him so early - especially because she decided she had to be a bigger part of his life now he was aware.

· Chris manages to get to the station once while Buck is on shift.

· Buck comes back to Albert making him pancakes and Chris scribbling with the things they keep for the school trips.

· 'What are you doing here, bud? Does your dad know?'

· 'Kinda.'

· 'What does kinda mean here?'

· 'He knows I wanted to see you. I don't think he knows that I came here.'

· Albert quickly jumps in saying he's texted Eddie and he and Carla are on their way, it just happens that the rig got back before they got there.

· Buck sits down with Chris, leaning his head on his arms and looks at the picture. It's him, Eddie and Buck with Carla and her husband in the background.

· 'What's wrong, Chris?'

· 'Ana.'

· 'Ok, what did she do?'

· 'Tried to get me to bath before I ate and then said I had to do my homework before TV time.'

· 'Buddy, you always have to do your homework before TV time.'

· 'But she tried to help me.'

· 'Your dad and I try our best to help you. She's a teacher, she's better use than us.'

· 'No that's not it.'

· Chris has tears in his eyes and a death grip on his crayon.

· 'She told the poor boy his handwriting was ineligible and took his pencil, tried to get him to tell her the answers and that she would write them for him.' Carla sighs.

· She stands with her arms open and Chris runs into them. Eddie looms behind them, looking sad.

· Well, neutral really, but Buck knows his micro expressions well enough.

· After that Ana is banned from the house in the afternoons/evenings and Carla steps back in. The new problem is Ana turning up when Buck has days off - their schedule was she was here when Buck wasn't, for multiple reasons.

· Ana's great, there's just something about her that Buck doesn't like and she definitely doesn't like Buck. Maybe it's because they're just opposites.

· Eddie tries to gently tell her that he barely gets to see Buck anymore and he needs it for his mental health. Ana starts pestering about the fact that he should want to see his girlfriend more than his best friend.

· It's one of their biggest fights and turns into a screaming match one night (Chris is at Hen's with Denny but Buck is hiding away in the guest room) where Eddie shouts that she had decided that she was his girlfriend without asking Eddie if that was what he wanted and she was suffocating.

· She leaves pretty quickly after that and Buck is incredibly happy as their paths never cross again.

· There's an emptiness settling in his chest when he finds out that the two are still together and are treating the relationship as though they're just dating again. He hates that he really doesn't like the idea that it's working out now that they're on even footing.

· He decides to push it away and starts getting reckless again. Taylor's hanging around the station more like she wants more from Buck, but he'd given up. She liked being chased and now that he's tired of it, she wants him. He knows she'll get bored if he shows interest again.

· It's interest he doesn't have. Eddie had called him Evan and told him he deserved more. How was he supposed to go back to normal after that?

· Why doesn't Eddie see how life changing that was?

· Eddie does. But in typical Eddie fashion, he pushes it deep down and replaces it with his content being with Ana. She makes his parents happy, which makes him happy. She gets along with Pepa and Isabel and his sisters, but they act a lot more familial with Buck.

· It makes sense, he tells himself - they've had years with Buck.

· Nothing really changes for Buck until TK and Judd find themselves in LA. Buck hastily explains to TK that he wasn't asking him out back in Austin, he just wanted a friend and really he wasn't attracted to guys.

· TK just straight up laughs at Buck.

· 'Buckley, you checked me, Carlos, and the barista out in the span of like five minutes. You're a little attracted to guys.'

· 'Wait, you mean you and Diaz ain't datin'?'

· Judd's question throws Buck through a loop.

· 'What? No...we're just...we're friends. Best friends.'

· TK laughs again, patting Buck on the shoulder.

· Once they're on their last day, TK takes Buck out for a drink like he'd promised. Buck tries to ignore the fact he's brought him to a gay bar.

· He gets hit on at least three times in an hour, not to mention the building collection of beers for both him and TK and he decides he doesn't actually mind it.

· 'Ok, I want you to do something for me. Scan the crowd and pick a guy, any guy, and tell me what you find attractive about him.'

· Buck picks out a shorter man, tanned skin and dark hair.

· 'He's got a cute smile.'

· 'Oh boy, you have a type.'

· 'Huh?'

· 'He looks like Eddie.'

· And he does. Like a Walmart version of Eddie though. He didn't laugh like Eddie, didn't have the same laugh lines. Or frown lines. His eyes weren't as warm when he met Buck's nor did he smile as fondly. And...

· 'Fuck.'

· 'You just now realizing your feelings for him?'

· 'Yeah. How did I not know?'

· 'Honestly, it was probably such a subtle shift. From what you've told me you've basically been a couple for a year and a half, so you didn't realize anything had changed for you.'

· 'I've never denied it.'

· 'I mean you clearly must have.'

· 'No. I meant that there have been so many times people assumed Eddie and I were a couple and I never denied it, I went along with it all.'

· 'Shit man, you had it bad before you even realized.'

· Buck groans as TK throws an arm around him, leaning against his shoulder.

· Things change after that. Buck is hesitant with physical touch with Eddie - it's his main love language and he needs to make sure he's not overdoing it and making Eddie uncomfortable.

· Eddie notices because of course, he does. Buck has pulled away from him for seemingly no reason. The second Eddie can dress, shower, and reach the high cabinets himself Buck is talking about going home.

· He is home.

· Eddie doesn't say it, he just hums, not really agreeing. He's gotten used to Buck being around and so has Chris. They'd easily fallen back into their quarantine routine and now Buck would be leaving again.

· A quick thought of getting shot again fills Eddie's head. Though this time it's nothing to do with his PTSD and more so that he doesn't want Buck to leave. So he exaggerates just a little.

· 'You know, my PTSD is still acting up. Maybe, you could stay until it balances out a little?'

· 'You'd want me to?'

· 'Yeah, you're great at getting me out and calming me and Christopher down.'

· 'You don't think Ana should start taking up some night shifts?'

· 'I don't really want her to deal with that side of me yet.'

· 'Okay.'

· 'Okay?'

· 'Yeah, I'll stay.'

· Eddie keeps an eye on Buck just as much as he keeps an eye on Eddie. He quickly realizes that Buck is holding in his own troubles. He knows from experience that Buck does not think his problems are anywhere near as bad as everyone else's. He has a lot of unlearning to do.

· Subtly, Eddie starts talking to him about his mental state, his worries, trying to let Buck know it's ok to do the same.

· When he and Ana inevitably break up not even a month later, it's Buck that he tells first.

· Buck, who has his back.

· Buck, who loves Christopher as his own.

· Buck, who is insecure about everything he does except saving people.

· Buck, who thinks he is unworthy and undeserving of love.

· Buck, who shows his love through acts of kindness and physical affection.

· Buck, who Eddie is so unapologetically in love with and probably has been for years.

· The revelation doesn't shock him like he thought it would. More so, it was a natural progression of their relationship.

· Friends. Best friends. Co-parents. Co-habiting. Partners. Partners.

· Eddie sees a future with Buck, a future he'd only ever seen with Shannon but it's so much brighter.

· He comes home from his first shift back - Buck wasn't working and offered to look after Christopher so Eddie knew he was safe - to find Buck on the couch, staring into an empty beer bottle.

· 'Hey?' it's broken and Eddie drops his things to rush over to him.

· 'You good?'

· 'No. I'm not.'

· Buck looks up, tears in his eyes, cheeks red and puffy.

· 'What's going on, Evan?'

· That's all it takes. He breaks. He babbles about watching Eddie die over and over in his dreams. How sometimes the shower will splash his face just so and he's thrown back with Eddie's blood on his face. How he was trying to get through it with Dr. Copeland but it wasn't helping.

· Nothing was helping.

· 'It's ok. I'm here, I'm okay.'

· 'You weren't. You died, Eds. You died on me.'

· 'You saved me.'

· 'What if I hadn't? I don't know a life without you anymore. I can't lose another person I love.'

· 'You love me?'

· 'Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?'

· Buck registers his words, quickly backing away from Eddie and tries to make a break for the open door. Eddie isn't letting him run away anymore. His wrist snakes around Buck's.

· 'Evan. I told you there wasn't anyone else I'd want to look after Christ. I told you you weren't expendable. I said that because I love you and you needed to hear it. You had to learn you deserved love. Love that Chris shows you. Love that I can show you. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.'

· Buck crumples in Eddie's arms, Eddie rocks him gently until the sobs subside.

· It's not an immediate or obvious change. There are still things the two need to work through.

· It's different but the same. There's more contact now; hugs, tactile hands on waists, and backs at work. Kisses in the bunk, soft and slow.

· It's new and exciting. Especially when they finally get together, officially and exclusively.

· Chris loves telling everyone about his two dads.

· Eddie and Buck are happier, closer.

· Buck had always been a Diaz. He'd always had a family who loved him. The big change was he got to love them both endlessly in return.

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Eventual Osamu x Reader

Rating: E for fucking Samu in the car :-)

Word Count: 4.4k of Miya twin shenanigans, fluff, then eventual smut

Summary: A hopeful love and a blossomed love; years of wishing on candles and they’re both content.

a/n: @powderblew​ ur the hopeful love my beloved

Contrary to popular belief, Miya Atsumu does not speed. Yes, he nearly loses his mind on the interstate every other day but his road rage is completely contained to cursing in the confines of his car. Most people think Atsumu’s the reckless driver with his loud personality and penchant for pulling off risky moves on the court, but surprisingly, it’s his counterpart who fully believes that the actual speed limit is at least ten above the posted signage and weaves through lanes with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh.

Atsumu got Osamu the car as a birthday gift—black, sleek, and quiet. He had been dropping hints for weeks but Osamu had brushed them off, figuring his brother was spewing incoherent nonsense.

It was the weekend before their birthday. They decided to take a trip to the mountains—it was rare at this point in their young adult lives to have the free time to spend with each other. Osamu was busy with the shop: serving customers, preparing food, and trying new dishes. Getting Onigiri Miya off the ground was a seven day work week with early mornings and late nights. Atsumu on the other hand, had regularly scheduled practices and travel matches with the team. Although his schedule was incredibly hectic, there was a sort of rhythmic regularity to it.

So, for the first weekend in a long time where it would be just them, Atsumu wanted it to be special. Afterall, it was their birthday. Atsumu was the one who drove them to the campsite, taking in the scenery with appreciation, going slowly on the winding roads while mindlessly tapping a beat on the steering wheel. As they got closer and closer to their destination, Osamu could tell his brother was antsy.

His eyes would flicker from the road, to Osamu, then back again. His mindless tapping to the music turned into an incessant drilling and he kept readjusting his legs and changing his hand position on the wheel, fidgeting in his seat.

“Wouldya’ quit that, yer gonna crash the fuckin’ car,” Osamu said, exaggeratingly clutching to the grab handle at the top of his window.

“Yer really gonna yell at me on ma’ birthday that’s jus’ like ya’ Samu—”

“It’s ma’ birthday too ya’ idiot!”

The sound of his brother’s bickering quelled Atsumu’s nerves and he settled in the driver’s seat, humming along to the song playing on the speakers. In response, Osamu turned up the volume, but Atsumu just grinned.  

“You will arrive at your destination in .2 miles,” the smooth voice of the GPS chimed.

Atsumu began fidgeting again and Osamu swore he was gonna punch him the moment they made it out of the death trap.

They pulled into the winding driveway and Osamu banged his head against the dashboard.

“Please tell me ya’ didn’t screw up the reservation,” he said quietly.

“What kinda idiot, do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined. Although Osamu couldn’t see with his forehead pressed against the polished wood interior, Atsumu was smiling.

“Then why is there another car parked in our spot?” Osamu deadpanned, turning his head to his brother, still pressed into the dash.

“Look again an’ eat yer words ya’ scrub.”

Driving slowly forward towards the car and parking next to it, Osamu realized that a bright red bow was tied to the hood. He stilled in his seat and stared dumbly out his window, slowly turning towards his brother.

“Do ya’ like it, Samu?” Atsumu nearly whispered, leaning in close to his brother, eyes wide, committing every micro reaction to memory.

Osamu blinked once. Twice. Then turned back to the car.

“Yeah, Tsumu,” he said shakily, “I really do.”

Against the burning in his throat and the tightening of his eyes, Osamu willed himself to remain composed when he heard rustling. Atsumu took out a crumpled and worn piece of notebook paper, its edges frayed and torn and began to smooth it out in his palms.

He cleared his throat and stared at the empty space across Osamu’s shoulder.

“So, uh…” he began, uncharacteristically shy and Osamu sent a prayer that this wasn’t a speech about how Tsumu had somehow accidentally razed Onigiri Miya to the ground in the short period that he wasn’t there and this was all an elaborate apology.

“I know that this year’s been tough with Onigiri Miya jus’ startin’ out an’ everythin’ but I jus’ wanted to say,” Atsumu trailed off and scratched his ear before suddenly, startling Osamu, squaring his shoulders and directing a piercing stare into his brother’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you Samu!” he nearly yelled, face flushed with embarrassment.

Osamu felt the heat prickle against his neck and all he could do was blink owlishly at his twin.

“What on Earth are ya’ goin’ on about?” he questioned incredulously.

“Okay, okay, wait I wrote it all down,” Atsumu said quickly, smoothing the worn paper once again. He cleared his throat a few times before reading.

“Osamu—”

“Oh my god is this a proposal, why is this so formal?” Osamu asked out loud.

“God, shut yer big ol’ trap wouldya I am tryin’ here,” Atsumu bit back to the amusement of his twin. “Anyways,” he grumbled. “Samu. I’ve been thinkin’ for a while and I jus’ wanted to say thank ya’ for always bein’ there for me.”

Osamu did not often feel stupid. Well, that’s a lie, he thought. It’s been a year since Onigiri Miya’s opening and he was only just beginning to feel as if he was able to call his job stable and that he had a solid understanding of how things should be ran. However, it was not often that his brother made him feel stupid, but here he was, at a loss for words at this uncharacteristic show of appreciation.

Yes, high fives and hugs had always come easily after a particularly clean hit or a perfectly executed pass, but they never sat down like this and talked about how much they appreciated each other. Osamu figured it was unsaid in the little things—how the clothes Atsumu stole in high school always ended back clean in Osamu’s closet, how Osamu usually ended up making two bentos when they still lived together, or how Atsumu had always tried to include Osamu in team bonding even when Osamu was in college.

“I think,” Atsumu said, breaking Osamu out of his thoughts. “That you were what made me work so hard at volleyball. Not because you were the only one that could challenge me,” Osamu scoffed at this. “But because you were the only one I cared to play with for a long time.”

Tears pricked at his eyes and Osamu nodded at his brother to continue.

“An’ thinkin’ back, yer probably the only reason why ma’ teammates didn’t excommunicate me like they did to Tobio-kun,” Atsumu joked and Osamu cracked a smile despite the burning of his throat.

“An’ I know we’ve talked about this before, but I am still really sorry when I went off on ya’ when ya’ told me you were quittin’ volleyball. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse or anything—”

“You sound like Baa-chan,” Samu choked out, still trying to hold back tears, hands balled into fists on his lap.

Undeterred, Atsumu continued to read. “But the fact that fer the first time, ya’ wouldn’t be by my side on the court was jus’ never a possibility I’d considered. So ‘m sorry ‘bout the fuss I made even though I know that’s all old news.” He paused and nodded at Osamu, noting his fists and drew in a shaky breath.

“’Samu, I jus’ want to let ya’ know that I am so endlessly proud to be yer brother and all the work ya’ put in in college and startin’ Miya Onigiri honestly scared me a little,” he said chuckling. “The way you really focus in on somethin’ when yer concentrating was always so intense, but I’d only really seen it with volleyball. But ever since you went to college, and especially with this past year, I can’t believe I fought you to go pro with me because I’d never seen ya’ more fired up or intense than ya’ have been this past year.”

The sides of Atsumu’s paper begin to tear with the force of his grip, and both twins are mirror images of each other. Red in the face, hands in fists, and willing the other to cry first.

“Basically,” Atsumu drawled on, hands slightly shaking, “thank ya’ for bein’ the best brother and teammate I coulda’ ever asked for and I’m so, so, proud to be the brother of the founder of Onigiri Miya.” He lowered the paper from his line of vision and accidentally crumbled it with his hand as he blurt out, “And I love you!” turning even redder in embarrassment. “Even though ya’ never respond to my texts and make fun a’ me when I bring my teammates ‘round,” he quickly added in.

Osamu undid his seatbelt and forcefully opened his door. He heard Atsumu’s confused “huh” and watched as he fumbled with his seatbelt through the windshield as he crossed to the other side. Atsumu stumbled out of the driver’s seat and Osamu captured him in a bone crushing hug. One hand wrapped around his back and the other held Atsumu’s head as he cried into his neck.

He thought back to the first semester of culinary school when he questioned himself every single day if it was the right choice to have made. Learning and practicing different techniques that felt foreign was a hurdle that had seemed impossible at the time. Then, when he graduated and he figured he knew almost everything there was to know about the food industry after hours and hours of lab, internships, and class and began preparations for opening Miya Onigiri, he realized once again that he knew nothing. Even a year after founding Miya Onigiri and he still found himself doubting his success.

But, hearing his idiot brother tell him he was proud—was all he needed. Because Miya Osamu also pushed himself to the upper limits of his physical and mental abilities because his brother was the only one he wanted to compete with. It didn’t matter who else might try and challenge them, at the end of their finish lines, the only person they wanted to see was each other.

The autumnal air was incredibly crisp and although the forest surrounding their luxury cabin was teeming with life, time around them seemed to still as they both cried.

“This is too much, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu sniffled out. “My gift ta’ ya’ was literally like, two hundred dollars.”

“It’s okay,” sniffled Atsumu. He paused. “What’d ya’ get me?”

Osamu pulled away and wiped his face with the bottom hem of his sweater.

“I got ya’ a signed copy of that book you were yappin’ on about with yer favorite author and I got her to make a video for ya’ sayin’ happy birthday and all that—”

“Oh my god,” Atsumu said excitedly, “Yer tellin’ me ya’ got Sonia Barnes to write me a handwritten message and a private video!?”

Osamu grimaced at the snot Atsumu had dripping down his chin. “First of all don’t say it like that, an’ second of all, wipe yer nose or somethin’ ya’ scrub.”

Completley ignoring his brother’s complaints, Atsumu lunged at Osamu, begging him to show him the video. Osamu tapped at his phone, opened up the email attachment, and watched the myriad expressions of surprise, admiration, love, and happiness flicker across Atsumu’s face during a 20 second video while red eyed and swollen. He mused that this was possibly the best birthday they ever had.

.

“Let’s take this baby on a test drive,” Osamu said, eagerly waiting by the door as Atsumu watched his birthday video for the umpteenth time.

That Sonia Barnes was a very pretty lady, Osamu reasoned, but if he had to hear her chirp, “Happy Birthday Tsumu!” one more time, she was going to be the cause of fratricide.

.

Settling into the leather seat, Osamu pressed the start button and nearly cooed at the soft rumble of the engine.

Throwing himself into the passenger’s seat Atsumu said, “Let’s figure out how ta’ connect to Bluetooth so I can hear ma’ angel on speaker,” fiddling with the touch screen.

Osamu grabbed Atsumu’s phone and threw it in the backseat and put the car in drive just as Atsumu started to clamber in the back for it. He peeled down the driveway as Atsumu screamed and picked up speed down the secluded road as Atsumu managed to get back in his seat and secure the seat belt.

The pretty autumn foliage was a blur of orange and reds and Osamu breathed in the smell of new leather and wood polish.

“S-slow down!” Atsumu yelled, quickly activating the lock function on the seatbelt and gripping the grab handle with both hands. “I-is this b-because I told the whole team you’d giv’ em’ free food if they said they were my teammate,” he screamed, “I’ll tell ‘em nevermind!”

Osamu rolled down the windows and the sun roof and laughed as the wind ran through his hair while his brother cried for the second time that day.

.

A year later and Osamu’s still in the driver’s seat of his car, but this time, she’s in the passenger’s seat. They have all the windows down and he’s speeding along the coast of Hyogo, sea breeze whipping through their hair and the sound of waves breaking in the distance.

She had planned a full day for his birthday: brunch at their favorite restaurant, a walk through the shopping district, and a homemade dinner with a fruit tart from his favorite bakery. Now that he had two years of experience running Onigiri Miya, he could afford to step away from the shop every so often. Unfortunately, his counterpart was on the other side of the world for a match, but they managed to squeeze in a short videocall despite the time difference.

“’Samu!” Atsumu screamed from the other line, “Happy Birthday!”

Wincing, Osamu turned the volume of his phone down as she giggled and wished his brother a Happy Birthday.

“What’d ya’ plan for Samu’s birthday,” Atsumu asked her, “good luck beatin’ ma’ gift from last year—”

“Tsumu!” Osamu berated.

“Unfortunately, my research job doesn’t pay as much as being a pro-volleyballer,” she rolled her eyes, “but I do have some fun things lined up,” she said, smiling softly at Osamu to which Atsumu gagged.

“Ya’ scrub, just ‘cause yer jealous—”

“Tsumu!” she interrupted, “did you get our gift? We were a little nervous about the international shipping but your hotel said they got it so—”

“Yes!” Atsumu exclaimed, screen blurry as he shuffled around his hotel room. He set his phone down and propped it up, showing them the neatly packaged box. “I can’t believe ya’ got me another signed copy of Sonia Barnes’s book—I couldn’t even get this one off preorder, it was so popular—”

“Did ya’ open the envelope yet?” Osamu asked impatiently.

“Of course I did! I always open the letter before the present, what do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined, but the duo noticed how Atusmu’s hands were off screen and they could hear quiet tearing noises in between pauses.

Rolling their eyes, they patiently waited for Atsumu to unsubtly open their envelope. They watched as Atsumu quickly scanned the contents of the letter and Osamu hit screen record as his brother’s mouth dropped open.

“T-tickets to a live reading and meet and greet?” Atsumu whispered to himself. He pulled the letter closer to his face and read it over and over again before gingerly setting the cardstock down and gently looking into the envelope to produce two ticket stubs. Carefully placing the tickets back into the envelope, Osamu failed to cover his snickers as Atsumu’s lower lip trembled.

“I know it’s no car,” she said, “but I do happen to know people who know people, so I hope you like your gift, ‘Tsumu” she said kindly.

Atsumu suddenly held the phone close to his face and Osamu could see his brother’s ears turn pink.

“Yer the best sister in law I coulda’ ever asked for, I don’t know why yer with that good fer nothin’ scrub—yer not married yet, so ya’ still have time to run away, but ‘Samu, ya’ better not mess it up,” he rambled, roughly wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

Osamu scoffed and she placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I get ta’ meet ma’ angel,” Atsumu mumbled to himself in disbelief, pacing in his hotel room, running his hands through his hair. “Angel, angel, angel—I gotta bring ma’ copy of her books with ma’ notes! I have so many questions for her, like how she came up with the storyline—didya know she went to school in New York City? Isn’t that the coolest? And she made a video for me for ma’ birthday last year,” he broke his monologue to gasp. “Do ya’ think she’ll remember me—”

Osamu put him on mute and groaned.

“Maybe we shoulda jus’ gotten him those fancy mugs,” he complained, leaning heavily into her side.

She rubbed the sides of his neck as she watched with amusement as Atsumu continued his ramblings, completely unaware that she and Osamu were having a side conversation.

“But look how happy he is, Samu,” she crooned, giggling as Osamu pinched his nose bridge. But she knew that Osamu was the one who spent hours scouring the web for those tickets and sent several emails to Sonia Barnes’s manager for a signed copy.

Watching his brother run his mouth with no regard to himself or his girlfriend, Osamu clicked the unmute button and nearly yelled, “We get it ya’ scrub, we get it!”

“Let me be happy why dontcha!” Atsumu retorted.

“Alright well I’m gonna spend ma’ birthday with ma’ real girlfriend,” Osamu taunted, finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button.

“Once Sonia meets me she’s gonna fall in love, just ya’ wait!”

She yelled one last, “Happy Birthday!” before Osamu disconnected the call and tackled her into the bed.

.

For the end of his birthday, Osamu requested a car ride. It was just past sunset; the sky’s vibrant pinks and oranges faded into a cool indigo and the stars were extra bright in the rural area they were driving through.

They rode in comfortable silence, listening to seagulls call their good nights and the wind beating against the car. The supple leather of the seat underneath her contrasted with the rough pads of Osamu’s fingertips on her thigh and she stared out at the horizon, perpetually in awe of the beauty of the coast line. Here, twinkling city lights were hardly discernible specks in the distance and the only tall structures were the trees dotting the cliffside.

They rose higher in altitude until they were surrounded by lush forest—rustling underbush and singing cicadas took over the sound crashing waves. He pulled into a secluded nook that overlooked a cliff and she couldn’t believe they were only a forty minute drive from the main city.

He killed the engine and unbuckled her seat belt while she was still leaning forward, face close to the windshield, taking in the scenery.

“I’m feelin’ a bit neglected over here,” Osamu said, soft grin taking over his face as he watched her, lips parted and eyes wide.

“Sorry Samu,” she said, still looking out the glass, “it’s just so incredible here.”

“I told ya’ I knew a spot,” he teased and she intertwined her hand with his.

He pulled her arm towards him as leaned over the middle console so his lips caught her neck when she lurched towards him. Her surprised chuckle turned into a content hum, fluttering her eyes closed as he kissed the pulse point of her throat, her exposed shoulder, then where her neck met her clavicle. From there, he dragged his lips slowly to her ear and grinned when he felt her clutch at his sweater.

Nipping her ear and tracing the shell with his tongue, rough palms kneaded her thighs and his fingers played with the hem of her skirt. He let out a heavy breath when she brushed against his tightening pants and he smirked when she involuntarily shivered.

“Do ya’ like this?” he asked, mouth kissing down the expanse of her chest, pulling the hem of her shirt low.

She arched her back into him and guided his hand under her shirt and he grinned when she impatiently unhooked her bra and took it and her shirt off in one swift motion.

“Does that answer your question?”

Eyes half lidded, lips slick with spit and plump from his repeated ministrations, she had one leg folded under her and the other anchored to the floor. Fully facing him, she cocked her head to the side and dragged her eyes down his body, lingering for a moment before directing her heavy gaze at him. She leaned back against the door as he leaned forward on the middle console and she ran a hand slowly from her knee, teasing a peek under her skirt, tracing a finger around her navel, then making her way upwards, rolling a nipple with two fingers while slowly rocking her hips.

Osamu’s lips parted and his eyes flickered from her hands to her face as she brought her other hand to rub at the cotton beneath her legs. Gaze hungry, he licked his lips and rolled his neck, languidly leaning back against his door, mirroring her.

“Gonna give me a birthday show?” He rasped, slowly unbuttoning his pants and palming his length through his boxers.

Skirt bunched at the waist giving him an unhindered view of the growing wet stain between her legs and Osamu felt himself tighten at the sight. He wanted to press his nose against the ruined fabric and lap at her through her pink panties, he wanted to curl a finger in her and listen to her keel for him, he wanted to—

“Take your shirt off,” she demanded.

“I thought it was ma’ birthday,” he chuckled but does as she asks, pulling the fabric from the back of his neck. He tossed the garment to the backseat and lazily looked back at her.

The tops of her cheeks are flushed and her breasts shake with each pant. She’s worked two slender fingers from the side of her underwear and Osamu watches with rapt attention as her pretty folds are presented to him.

“Touch yourself, Samu.”

“Again with the demands,” he complained but freed himself from the confines of his boxers and matches the pace she’s set on herself.

“Fuck,” she whined, moving faster. The hand teasing her nipples moved south to pinch at her clit and Osamu couldn’t wait anymore.

He nearly launched himself to her, abdomen uncomfortably resting on top of the center console and she seemed all too satisfied with the result. He buried his face between her legs and groaned with her as he sucked and lapped at her overstimulated bundle of nerves through soaked cotton.

“Itadakimasu,” he growled and she rolled her eyes at the line.

Long languid licks interspersed with quick flicks of his tongue, he took her right to the edge of her orgasm. Her thighs clenched around his head while her nails dragged through his gray hair and she rocked her hips against his mouth. Toe curling heat had her buck helplessly against his tongue, rough hands gripping her in place as she reached her peak, but at the last second, he pulled away.

Her gasp was lost with the loud bang his head made as it slammed against the car ceiling and he let out a string of curses as he tried to fit in the passenger’s seat with her. She half stands, leaning back on the glove department as he sat down and she couldn’t help but giggle when he cursed at how slowly the seat was reclining back.

But just as quick, he grabbed her by the hands and has her straddle him. The seat is narrow but neither of them mind as he slowly entered her. She gripped at the back of his head as he teased a nipple and sucked constellations across her chest while her other hand gripped the grab handle, giving her more leverage.

Osamu slowly rocked into her and he captured her moans in a kiss. He gave her a second to adjust to his length before slamming into her, head falling back into the headrest as he watched her bounce above him.

Beautiful, was all he could think. Hair wild around her shoulders, a glistening sheen of perspiration across her forehead and chest, and the incredible sound of her slick around him. He was in heaven.

He slid his thumb between her parted lips and she immediately began to suck. She bobbed her head back and forth while giving kitten licks at the tip and nipping the underside of his thumb.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he pressed his finger further back in her throat and watched as her eyes rolled back and she rocked her hips even faster against his.

Removing his thumb and making a show of putting it in his mouth, he pressed the wet digit against her clit and grinned as her moans became louder.

The sweet call of his name as she begged him to make her finish led him to snap his hips up, rubbing against the spongy bit of her inner walls and he held her close to his chest as they came undone together.

Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead on her shoulder and watched as a rivulet of sweat ran down the valley of her breasts and he shifted his hips forward, just now noticing the dull ache in his thighs. She shuddered against him and he kissed her shoulder, her cheek, then her other cheek.

“We really have to thank Tsumu for the car,” she said, chuckling.

“Yeah?” he questioned, running his blunt nails across her back, “should we tell him what we used it for?”

She scrunched her nose and Osamu’s heart clenched too. Wrapping her arms around his neck, soaking in the warmth of his warm body, her lips ghosted the side of his cheek and he shuddered at the tingles running down his back with the contact.

“Happy Birthday, ‘Samu,” she whispered sweetly.

Rocking into her again just to hear her breath tick, he nestled his head into her neck and smiled.

[bay-did-nothing-wrong]

Comfort Cave (Donnie x GN!Reader)

An idea I got from this post

Synopsis: A long tiring day has you seeking out the safety of your man’s arms. And you find him, just not how you expected to.

Genre: Fluff, domestic

Word Count: 886

Warnings: just a few swear words

It had been an awfully long day, at the end of an awfully long week.

Your bones ached from the massive amounts of menial work you'd had to perform in the span of just six work days, something that was not usually on your schedule. Add to the fact that the boys and April were investigating a possible Foot Clan - NYPD connection which required all of their human friends, yourself included, to be fully involved because this just wasn't something they could investigate on their own.

Your shift had just ended less than half an hour ago, and by that time you would usually be in the Lair, with some snacks, or groceries, or maybe some pizza, but that day had drained you so much you actually considered falling asleep at your place of work, for lack of energy to get home. You finally managed to drag yourself to the Lair, barely in human shape, more so just a walking uniform and organic matter, and called out to the turtles.

No response.

Odd, you could swear they should be here. In fact Mikey had texted you to ask if you'd come over only about - hour and a half ago!? Maybe you'd taken longer than you thought.

Before you decided to leave, you hear a cloth-like rustle from the lab and the low hum of a radio frequency.

Odd, you thought, Donnie never leaves anything on while he's gone. Better go check out what it is, you reason, slowly striding towards the open space of the lab.

Upon entering the open space you are left even more confused as you see all the screens running something or another, mostly CCTV footage from what looked like lower Manhattan with some additional other thingymabobs you weren't sure about but that wasn't the weirdest part.

As you somehow dragged yourself closer to the running screens you saw, near one of the desks, on the chair a mass of blankets and throw pillows.

Increasingly odd, you think, it's unlike Don to leave such a mess by his workstation. Maybe he was tired too. Maybe his day was as shit as yours was.

They're probably on patrol, you conclude and turn to leave, but as you do something shuffles from the corner of your eye.

You twist back quickly looking back around the lab - nothing.

You're imagining things now huh? Great.

Suddenly, Don's chair shakes, the blankets shuffle, a pillow falls.

What the actual hell?!

Something pokes out so quickly you jump back a foot, eyes wide, as a small squeak leaves your throat.

"Can I help you?"

It's Donnie?!

"Don, what the hell! You scared me to death..."  though your anger somewhat died down once you saw him.

He looked absolutely exhausted, even for him. His undereyes were darker than you thought his dark skin would allow, his eyes actually looked dry and tired, and there was a visible frown on his full lips.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Just fine." he stated uncovincingly, shuffling back into his blankets.

Wait, where the hell are his legs?! There's no way all 6'8 of him fits under that blanket!

"Don, where are your legs?!"

"In my shell. For comfort."

"Comfort?"

"Yes, this is my comfort cave."

Well, that did make some version of sense - he was a turtle after all. You weren't sure how it was physically possible to fit those powerful legs into his shell but you doubted it was the appropriate time to ask.

And suddently you felt horribly guilty. He was over here trying to enjoy whatever peace he could get from his brothers while they were patrolling, and you were disturbing him. He needed a break and he needed it badly.

"Baby, you look exhausted... How much did you sleep and when did you last eat?" you'd take care of him, regardless of your own exhaustion.

"I'm fine, dove..." a large yawn splits his face and since his arms are probably in his shell too, no hands come up to try to cover it up, "...really."

"I'll go make you a sandwich and some tea, you need sleep."

"No, no, wait!" he sounded somewhat nervous for whatever reason, as his eyes seemed to wake up a slight bit more, and his arms and legs somehow extended fom under the blanket, now around his shoulders. "There's something that will help me get some sleep."

You hum, thrusting a hip out, whether from exhaustion or sass you could not tell. "And what might that be?"

The fluffy looking blanket around him suddenly turned into a cape, an end held in each of his hands as his arms stretched open and he leaned further back into the seat.

Cuddles?

Well, that did make some sense, the turtle seemed to be a lot more physically affectionate at his lowest points, supposedly in search for comfort and warmth.

And honestly after the day you'd had, you were all to willing to give in.

You dropped your bag onto the ground, j tied and removed your shoes and climbed into your man's lap,as his powerful warm arms closed around you sealing you into his comfort cave.

This is how his brothers found you and, frankly none of them had the heart to wake you up.

Though Raph and Mikey did take pictures.

Tags: @remmushound @forerunnertracer

[andrea-lyn]

The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there! 

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

//

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend. 

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

 Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

OR

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way 

Sundering by romancandles 

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies (jms.eds@jms.com)

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

 (TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends. 

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 15]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, softdom!seungcheol, blowjob, cum swallowing, restraints/blindfold, daddy!kink, dirty talk, v little hair pulling, orgasm control, squirting, sex toys 😗💕 hope y’all are having a good weekend! As you can see, with this chapter comes the decided amount of chapters 😭 which means! cherry bomb ends on jan. 1st! 😭😭😭 I’m sad about it but!! excited to start the new year with some new projects too!! and I promise it won't be the last of this au either (I'll upload and talk abt a new schedule when it gets closer to time)💕💕 Thank you, as always, for your support with Cherry Bomb and I’m glad some of us have had pavlovian responses when we hear the term now LOOOL😩💕 Enjoy ch15 and have a great weekend! see u tomorrow for the last intro post! 💕🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - x - x - x - x - x 

Seungcheol takes it as a blessing that he doesn’t work on the weekends.

You do your camshow on Friday and upload prerecorded content on Saturday which leaves two whole days of relaxation that the two of you enjoy.

But Monday comes quicker than you anticipate and Seungcheol drops you off to work before he heads back to the roller rink; ignoring the multitudes of texts it seems Jeongguk is sending.

I’ll be at work in 30 minutes, he thinks.

“I’ll be back to pick you up after work, baby!”

You nod back, blowing Seungcheol a kiss through the window before you turn to leave.

Seungcheol’s phone rings 3 more times, brows furrowed.

‘It can wait.’

“Hyung, we’re in trouble… Maybe?”

Jeongguk’s big puppy eyes stare back at the older male and he can already feel the blood draining from his face at the potential reasons that the younger male would even say that. “Um… is---is this pertaining to why you tried calling like 14 times?” Jeongguk nods, tugging on Seungcheol’s shirt and pulling him in closer.

“Before you say anything… Namjoon-hyung didn’t find out, did he?”

“Find out about what?”

“That I… cam… I don’t want to get fired because I--”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “Listen, I’m gonna be real, I don’t think he cares. The problem is… remember that dude that came in? A couple weeks ago. Lookin’ for a job.”

Seungcheol nods slowly; trying to remember the male’s name. “Seok--something, right?” Jeongguk nods.

“Apparently, he came back, and at the right time too. Namjoon hired his ass on the spot and he starts tomorrow. I heard from Seokjin.” Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features as he stares and waits for Jeongguk to continue. “... And? How is that trouble for us?”

Jeongguk lets out an over dramatic sigh, hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders. “Nevermind, I forgot you’re making bank on those videos. I was gonna say, we might get a pay cut! Or maybe Joon-hyung’s trying to replace us but I guess that’s not a ‘you’ problem.”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, shaking his head before patting Jeongguk’s hands.

“You’ll be okay. I don’t think anyone is coming for your concession stand job.”

The next day when Seungcheol makes it to work, he can’t help but have a weird feeling in his gut.

Much like the time when he first met Jun, there’s an indescribable feeling bubbling up in his body that he can’t seem to shake off once he arrives at the roller rink and the sight of Jeongguk with the new employee doesn’t help to settle the feeling at all.

Just before he can make his escape, the younger male waves him over; a cheery smile plastered on his face when Seungcheol starts walking over.

“Hyung! It’s the new employee!”

So much for panicking about being replaced, Jeongguk.

Seungcheol smiles at the other male, introducing himself swiftly before extending a hand to shake. “Ah! I remember you! I’m Seokmin! I’m the same age as Jeongguk!” Seungcheol’s lips part as he nods in understanding; that had been why Jeongguk seemed so okay with it all of a sudden.

Seokmin’s eyes form crescents when he smiles and Seungcheol takes a second to do a once over of the other male; noting the pins tacked to his denim jacket. His eyes hone in on a specific one, narrowing once he realized what it was.

It’d been a while ago now, but when you’d hit 5k subscribers to your camming channel, you had made only three of the same pin, which you had raffled and only gave to three winners.

By nature, Seungcheol was one of them, and the other two were ‘xcaliburDK’ and ‘gentleman_josh95’. Seungcheol could deduce from usernames alone that this wasn’t ‘Josh’ so it only left one option left; albeit Seokmin didn’t add up to the username either.

“Hyung? Hyung, are you okay? You’re spacing out.” Jeongguk waves a hand in the elder’s face as Seungcheol shakes himself from his thoughts.

He’d just have to figure it out later.

Although, he can already feel the groan spilling from his lips.

Why was everyone popping up now?

When he picks you up from work, later that afternoon, he can already tell something is off about you too.

You slink into the passenger’s seat of his car, quiet and a little jittery. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He comments, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Yeah it’s just… Can we talk about it when we get home? I think I’m still recovering from the weird experience I had earlier.”

Nodding, Seungcheol reaches over, placing his palm in yours in a means of comforting you; even just a little.

“Guess we both have had weird days, huh?”

You can’t thank Seungcheol enough for how patient he is.

He doesn’t say a word in the car and lets you have your quiet, cool down time before you get home.

But when the lock slides into place and you finally plop down onto the bed, you know it’s finally time to have the talk that you knew was brewing.

“I met another one of my regulars at the diner today.” You mumble; beating Seungcheol to the punch of him asking.

“Weird, I think I ran into one of your regulars at the roller rink today too. He works there now, by the way.”

The two of you share an awkward laugh as Seungcheol lays down next to you; neither of you bothering to change out of your outside clothes as you bask in the oddly similar occurrences. “Wouldn’t happen to be ‘universe_WZ’ would it? He came by the diner earlier, ‘just passing through town’ he said. It was so weird though, y’know? Him and Jun kinda got along ‘cause apparently they’re born in the same year.” You smile at the memory, despite how odd it was at first. “He was quiet and Jun is very much not. I think he bailed earlier than he wanted ‘cause his ear was getting talked off. But he asked me for an autograph on the way out and some old lady stared at me. It was just… a little weird.”

Seungcheol laughs; somewhat glad that your experience hadn’t been as bad as he was expecting.

“How ‘bout you, ‘Cheol? What was that about him working with you?”

The male groans, sliding a hand down his features. “It was… somethin’ else.” You turn on your side to face him, raising a brow.

“Couldn’t be that bad, could it?”

Seungcheol laughs, but only in the way he knows that the next words out of his mouth will sound ridiculous, even to you.

“I’m not going to say who it is because I don’t want you to be extra weirded out. He’s an okay guy, very diligent about his work. But let’s just say I caught a glimpse of his wallpaper, which was you by the way. And when I asked him, ‘hey, is that your girlfriend?’, the fucker lied and said yes!”

It takes a second before you’re letting out a boisterous laugh; tears springing to your eyes at the hilarious encounter Seungcheol had experienced.

“You’re not mad!?” He comments, eyes wide as saucers as he watches you curl up in laughter. “I thought you’d be mad!” You wipe a tear from your eye, catching your breath before you turn back to Seungcheol who watches you in confusion.

“No way, that’s fuckin’ hilarious! And let’s be real, probably not the first time someone’s lied about me being their girlfriend, right? But I--he doesn’t know, does he? That you’re… y’know, ‘dom.cheol’?” Seungcheol blushes, cheeks blooming a pale pink when he thinks about it.

Would his voice be enough to give it away?

“I don’t… know? He didn’t say anything but neither did I, honestly. It was just… weird. And now I work with him so that’ll be fun. Can’t wait for him to tell me how cute his girlfriend is.” He grumbles.

“Awww, is widdol Swungcheol jealous?” You blink cutely back at him; a teasing smirk on your lips when you see him narrowing his eyes back at you.

“Watch it, brat. You know I can punish you at any time, right?”

“Try me, then~”

Seungcheol mentally logs into his brain and waits until your Wednesday show before he makes a move.

He brings his favorite silk ties from his closet and places them on the bed while you get changed; a sly smirk on his face.

“‘Okay, ‘Cheol I’m--whoa.” You bite your lip when you step out and see the array of ties and the vibrator already sitting on the bed. “Um… I take it that these are part of the show tonight?” You end with a shy giggle; body already warm at the way Seungcheol looks at you.

“Mmhmm. For the ‘lil jealous comment you made. What was it that you said? ‘Try me, then’?” He grins in a way that you know you’re screwed and you saunter up to him in hopes of maybe pacifying him a little.

“Too late to say that I take it back?”

“Waaaay too late, baby. Now, let’s get started.”

chwenon has donated $50

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

artist8hao has donated $75

artist8hao: she’s so pretty with her hands tied behind her back like that

angelhan: shibari next time???

universe_WZ: she’d be so pretty all tied up

universe_WZ: rly nice seeing u btw ;)

therealchan99: where tf are all of u seeing her!?!?? I need to go out more im lackin bro

alphagyu97: its the way u walk into every set up for me

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, reading the comments with his hand tangled in your hair and your arms tied behind your back as you work your mouth up and down on his cock.

Before the show had even started, he had quickly rearranged the setup so that the camera was angled down towards the space in front of the bed instead of where it usually faced which was on top of the bed. You were a little confused at first when he had nodded and told you to start your camshow from the rug placed underneath you but it soon made sense when he had tied your arms behind your back and made you suck him off with your knees digging into the rug and a silk tie tied into a bow around your eyes to prevent you from seeing.

“Shibari, huh? Ooh, wouldn’t it be a treat for your viewers if you did a show where you were all tied up? I’d have to start it for you, or maybe they’d like to watch the process and see how quickly I can get you to fall apart.” Seungcheol pauses; hips canting up slightly into your mouth as you swallow and gag around him. “We can make it an extra long camshow… Maybe a pay-per-view situation. They can watch you squirm and cum all night long while I keep a vibrator pressed against your clit until your cute body is trembling.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head even if Seungcheol can’t see it and you moan around his cock when you feel him throbbing in your mouth.

The sound of donations and comments is all you can go off of with your back towards the camera and your vision taken away; noting that the viewers must’ve liked the idea.

j__min has donated $150

j__min: popping in to say if u need help buying ropes, i know a guy ;)

alphagyu97: wait is this rly happening

alphagyu97: i’ll clear my schedule gentleman_josh95: yea same

xcaliburDK: i just started a new job i cant have any sick days plz… at least reupload it for me 😭😭

Seungcheol smirks when he reads that particular comment; fingertips massaging your skull when he hears you whining. “I know, baby. You wanna be fucked, huh? It isn’t nice being teased, right? So now you know how I feel~” In a blink of an eye, ‘xcaliburDK’s comment is buried and Seungcheol is thankful that you didn’t see it. He’d just have to keep it a secret for now while he played along and listened to what else Seokmin had to say about his so-called ‘girlfriend’.

You rub your thighs together; already feeling the slickness on them from how wet you already were and how long you’d been teasing and sucking his cock.

“Fuck, I could cum down your pretty ‘lil throat and then make you work for my cock. Drag your punishment out even longer than your viewers would see.” You moan around his cock in response and Seungcheol can only take it as a whiny ‘no’ before he’s pulling you off of him by the hair; soft sputters and coughs spilling from your wet lips as you catch your breath.

“But I think you’ve earned your orgasm, hmm? What do you say, princess?”

Your throat feels hoarse and your body feel obscenely hot at the way Seungcheol doesn’t seem to want to take off your restraints just yet. “Y-yes, daddy I--I want to c-cum… pl--please.”

tangerine_kwan: ahhh shes so cute

tangerine_kwan: petition for baby pink ties next time i think they suit her

sleepy_wonu: if that shibari show is happening, yes

“We’ll talk about it later, although I don’t think she’ll be opposed to it~” You furrow your brows; wondering what Seungcheok was referring to. 

You’d ask later.

“D-daddy…?”

Seungcheol tugs you slightly by your hair, urging you up as you slowly stand on shaky legs. You let him take the reins as he unties your arms and repositions you until you’re bent over the edge of the bed; left leg folded atop the bedsheets while your right leg keeps you upright. He keeps your blindfold on but lets you keep your arms loose; which you find out fairly quickly, is for good reason.

The buzzing of the vibrator makes you bite your bottom lip and soon enough, Seungcheol places the toy in your clammy hand.

“You’re gonna slide your hand under your body and keep that vibrator pressed against your clit while I fuck you. And you’re not allowed to cum unless I say so. Am I understood, baby?” You feel Seungcheol teasing you as he slides his cock through your soaking folds before circling the tip around your entrance.

“I expect a response when I ask you a question, sweetheart.”

“Y--yes, daddy, I--ah!”

Seungcheol grins as he slides his cock into your tight cunt; watching as you slowly sandwich your arm between your body and the bed sheets to place the vibrator against your clit. You cry out, a mess of sharp whines and jumbled words spilling off your lips with the combination of Seungcheol’s thrusts and the vibrations on your clit.

“Ngh, d--daddy! Fuck me m-more!”

Your other hand digs into the sheets, fingers tight around the fabric as Seungcheol fucks you from behind. He knows your body like the back of his hand and he quickly already has you on the verge of an orgasm despite only having started fucking you, moments prior.

“Don’t cum, princess~” Teasingly, he alternates from quick snaps of his hips that have his cock slamming into your g-spot to slow thrusts that have you remembering every groove and vein of his cock when he pulls out. And when he fucks you like this, it’s easy to forget the camera was even on and that people were watching; if not for the constant pinging of comments and donations that mix in with your moans, Seungcheol’s harsh breaths and the sound of the vibrator against your clit.

hoshi_tiger_xx: hmm but shes obv being punished and we all kno good girls dont get creampies

therealchan99: ur right,,, where should he cum then?

kitty_junjun: my votes on her tits

kitty_junjun has donated $75

sleepy_wonu: maybe all over her back and then post the pics in the private room

xcaliburDK: or raffle them!! I want them

chwenon: ooo cum in her mouth but dont let her swallow

chwenon: then u can raffle those pics or sth

Neither you nor Seungcheol are even paying attention to the comments that fly past on the screen and the only thing Seungcheol even turns slightly for, is to check to make sure he’s still properly out of frame.

He can already feel you tightening up around him and with the vibrator on your clit, he knows for a fact you won’t last much longer before you’re cumming.

“Hmm, princess, I can feel you getting so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum already, huh?”

“D-daddy, I dunno, ah, how--how much longer I can h-hold off…” You mumble; already feeling the tension in your body ready to snap at any second.

“Be a good girl. I said you earned your orgasm but you need to be patient.” You nod to the best of your ability; head feeling heavy and fuzzy as you try to stave off your orgasm for a little longer. “Y--yes, daddy…” He slows down his thrusts in order to help you a little and the soft praises that fall from his lips have the warmth blooming in your chest.

But it doesn’t last long because despite Seungcheol’s valiant efforts, you’re already too close to cumming to stop yourself when you feel the pressure building up too fast.

“Oh, d-daddy, I---I can’t, I---I can’t, I have, ah, to---to c-cum! Fuh--fuck, ‘m s--sorry!”

Seungcheol can’t even manage a word in before he feels his cock being forced out of your pussy and the wetness that squirts all over his cock and lower half. Loud cries and whines are all you can manage in the thrums of pleasure and the grip you have on the vibrator only tightens as you grind against the toy to ride out your high.

Seungcheol takes the time to wrap a hand around his cock as he strokes himself; body turned halfway towards the laptop to see what everyone was saying.

hoshi_tiger_xx: uh ohhh pretty baby came without permission

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

hoshi_tiger_xx: donation for squirting tho

alphagyu97: ugh look at her cute lil hole begging to be filled up

angelhan: bet she’s feeling empty rn huh

Your soft mewls have Seungcheol turning back to face you; eyes trained on your twitching body when the pleasure starts to ebb away and the overstimulation from the vibrator starts to bite. “Daddy… the---the, mmh, toy…”

“You can turn it off, sweetheart.” His tone is clipped and you already know you’re in for it once you manage to find the switch on the silicone toy. You turn it off and slide your hand from underneath you; palms flat against the sheets as you sniffle.

“I--I’m really s-sorry, I--I couldn’t--”

“I want you on your knees again, princess.”

Nodding shakily, you ease your bent leg down as you maneuver yourself onto your knees; hands already searching for Seungcheol before you hear his small ‘ah, ah, ah’s.  “Hands behind your back and tongue out, baby.” You follow his orders as you clasp your hands behind your back and diligently open your mouth and stick your tongue out as far as you can.

He brings his cock towards your face, tapping his cock head against your tongue before he starts to jerk himself off over your mouth and face. “I gotta hand it to you, princess. At least you apologized.” Seungcheol laughs under his breath, “But next time though? I won’t even let you have my cock.”

You whimper in return, brows furrowed under the silk tie.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum all over this pretty face.” His grip on his cock tightens and he thrusts into his palm quicker as he chases his high. “Don’t worry. I’ll take pretty pictures of your cum stained face.”

Seungcheol groans as he feels the coil in his body snapping and not a second later do you feel warm rivulets of cum hitting your cheeks and your tongue. Some of it manages to catch on the silk tie as you moan. The donations and comments pour in like water as Seungcheol continues to cover your face in cum and for the umpteeth time, you’re reassured that this was a path that worked out for you.

It was so silly that you’d thought of quitting camming earlier. 

Although, you never brought it up to Seungcheol.

In actuality, there were quite a few things that you’d never brought up to Seungcheol.

“Fuck…” He mutters from above you and it’s enough to bring you out of your thoughts as you hold still. Seungcheol takes the hint, using a sticky cum covered hand to reach for his phone to snap pictures of you; he’d just clean it up later.

“Say cheese~” He laughs, taking a couple photos before tossing his phone onto the bed as you draw your tongue back into your mouth and swallow down the warm salty substance that managed to hit your tongue.

Seungcheol helps you up from the floor, pouting when he sees how red your knees have gotten. “Hmm, think I need to take care of my princess after this.” He helps take your blindfold off and you’re quick to blink the fogginess away as  you try to focus on Seungcheol’s face before peering over to the laptop’s screen.

Your cheeks burn hot at the cum that still stains your cheeks when you see  yourself but the comments that flood in calling you pretty make you giggle.

“Ooookay. I think daddy is gonna get all cleaned up and I’ll wrap up here?” You check in with Seungcheol, who shoots you a nod and a small thumbs up before slinking completely out of the camera’s view.

“Okay guys, now what were you all talking about while I was on my knees?”

You get out of the shower feeling refreshed; tossing on a loose shirt before skipping out of the bathroom.

Seungcheol is cozied up on the sofa, waiting on the food that the two of you had ordered right after you ended your show. “‘Cheollie~” He turns to you as you plop down next to him and he’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he tugs you into his side.

“Feeling better?”

“Mmhmm~ A ‘lil sleepy but I can go for that food and then sleep.”

The two of you share a laugh, eyes focused on the movie that plays on the TV. “Say…” You start, “Someone asked a good question in the comments after you stepped out.” You gulp; palms a little clammy.

You just had to know.

“Yeah? Was it about the shibari camshow again?”

“No, actually…” You take a deep breath, telling yourself it’d be okay regardless of what he said.

“Seungcheol, am I your girlfriend?”

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 30: Waiting

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Some comic relief. Kung Lao and Liu Kang have an adult-ish conversation before it turns into a much less mature conversation. Mostly about you. About some other stuff too. Sure hope that no one overheard it or anything.

A/N: Some humor to break up those last few chapters. Saturday is the chapter with the choice at the end then my posting schedule has to swap around a bit, will probably be Monday and Friday? One for Liu one for Lao? That cool?

Part 29 Part 31 Chapter Index

Liu Kang changed his bandages while seated on the floor of his room with his door open. Kung Lao leaned against the frame of the door with his arms folded across his chest. Liu turned his attention to his brother and offered a weary smile. Kung Lao had been checking on you for them both since Chen had sent them away. Liu had suggested that they wait patiently but even he’d had a difficult time not worrying about you. When Kung Lao had told him where to shove that idea, he’d relented. Liu had been the one to care for you when you’d first arrived. He wanted to be the one to care for you now.

Raiden had said something about them both becoming too attached.

Liu hadn’t argued even if he thought that was a ridiculous reason to keep their distance.

“Have you heard anything yet?”

“That woman taking care of Y/N turned me away again and this time she was mean.” The annoyance in Kung Lao’s voice was completely unjustified. His vendetta against the people working in the infirmary was extremely silly. But Kung Lao wouldn’t talk about it and Liu Kang couldn’t make him.

“She needs taking care of, Lao.”

“Yeah, which I am perfectly capable of doing.”

“You are not qualified.” Liu chuckled as he finished wrapping up his arm. It had healed as well as could be expected over the last few days. It would take a few weeks to be back to normal, but he was prepared for the climb. “You don’t even take of yourself when you need it.

“Only because they make me go to the infirmary every time. They don’t trust me to do it alone.”

“Because you don’t do it.” Liu stood and dusted himself off. “When was the last time that you checked your bandages or your wounds? Are you even bothering with them anymore?”

“No, because they’re fine.”

“I think I just made my point. Everyone’s point.”

“You get to take care of your wounds. Why do I have to go to the infirmary to do it?”

“Because I’m qualified. And I actually do it.” He threw away the old bandages.

Kung Lao grumbled and then tilted the door closed behind him before leaning against the nearby wall. Liu sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. He was listless. Doing nothing and waiting patiently was part of what they did in Raiden’s Temple, but it didn’t mean that he was content to do it. While he composed himself better than Kung Lao, he was just as worried and frustrated by the lack of control he had.

“I’m going to sneak in through her window. She can’t stop me from there. I’ll fall to my death. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that.”

“That’s a terrible idea. One of your worst.” Liu laughed in disbelief at his brother. “Sure, you’ll get in, but she’ll kick you right out after. Not to mention that you’re going to terrify the poor woman. And Y/N’s bed is right beneath the window. You could hurt her.”

“I could just use my hat.” He tapped the brim.

“Same results, Lao.” Liu rested his elbow on his knee and ran his fingers through his hair. “Chen is good at what she does. Y/N is in capable hands.”

Kung Lao took a seat next to him with a frustrated huff. They sat in tense silence.

“How is your arm doing, anyway?”

“It’s healing fine. Stitches will be coming out soon.” Liu patted the bandage on his left arm. He had a relatively high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t the type to complain. It’d hurt like a son of a bitch when the ink had sliced through his flesh, but he’d been more worried about you in the moment. “No more fever which has helped tremendously.”

“I hear that.” Kung Lao was staring wide-eyed in front of him. He had so little patience, which was something Liu usually gave him hell for, but in this situation, he was right there alongside him. They sat in silence again, a frequent occurrence over the past few days. So much had happened since they had last had a chance to speak and neither one of them seemed willing to talk about it. They’d spent plenty of time together waiting for you to wake up, but it had mostly been in frustrated silence.

“Did she tell you?” Lao didn’t turn his wide-eyed gaze away from the floor.

“Tell me what?

“That we kissed.” Kung Lao clasped his hands together in front of him and tapped his fingers nervously against his other hand. Liu Kang heaved a sigh and tried not to let it bother him, but he was sure that his silence said more than enough. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

“No, she didn’t. But I suspected as much after how she behaved in Huangshan. You had her all mixed up.” Liu tapped his foot and then let go of his frustration with a breath. He had gotten into his head that you were his Y/N. This wasn’t easy to talk about for either of them. “I think she was afraid to tell me. Afraid of how I’d react.” Rationalizing it had been enough to wipe the remaining frustration completely away. “She carries more guilt than she lets on, I think.”

“Funny that you put it that way because she didn’t seem to have a problem telling me that she’d kissed you.”

Was Kung Lao trying to get on his nerves? He did that sometimes, but Liu had gotten good at navigating his way around it. He laughed under his breath and Kung Lao seemed genuinely surprised not to have annoyed him.

“You have known her since you were nine, Kung Lao. You have a connection that is deeply rooted in your childhood. It’s nothing like the one I have with her. It is worlds apart.”

“Wow, I don’t think that I’ve heard that kind of jealousy from you since we were teenagers.” Kung Lao smirked. Liu tapped his foot and heaved another sigh. It wasn’t the connection that had caused his renewed frustration. This had gone on for too long.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Liu frowned. “I can’t get it out of my head. I want out of the bet. I never felt good about it to begin with, Kung Lao. It’s making me act differently. I don’t want any part of it.”

“So, you’re chickening out, huh?”

Liu rolled his eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Lao?”

“What kind of question is that? Did I not explain the bet to you?”

“Are you sabotaging any chance you might actually have with someone you care about?” Liu watched Kung Lao instantly stiffen up and knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “When I was brought to the temple and we became family, you spoke of Y/N so fondly. Now she’s here and you’re willing to risk any relationship that you have rebuilt with her so that you don’t have to do a few chores? It’s absurd, Lao. You don’t think she’s going to be upset? Feel gross about it? Because I feel gross about it.”

Kung Lao clenched his jaw and stopped tapping his foot and fingers and stared at the floor again instead. Liu waited patiently and rotated his left shoulder, feeling the stinging in his arm and the pain that radiated down to his fingertips. He would focus on stretching his muscles until Kung Lao was done arguing in his head. He did that sometimes, especially when he was arguing with Liu. This wasn’t the first time that he’d told Kung Lao a harsh truth and it wouldn’t be the last. Kung Lao had done the same for him, but it had been less necessary over the years. Liu Kang was the type who saw his shortcomings before others did.

“I really hate when you call me out on my bullshit.” Kung Lao finally chuckled.

“Call it what you will, Lao. If you won’t let me back out of the bet, then I forfeit. I’ll do your chores. I don’t care. I stand by what I said when you first suggested it. I don’t want to bet on someone else’s feelings. Let her feel what she feels authentically so that I can feel what I feel authentically.” He mussed up his hair in annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Kung Lao deflated next to him. It was comical. His posture had completely changed. “Honestly, I felt pretty terrible about it by the end of our trip to Japan. Like I was… manipulating her. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I thought it was a harmless and fun thing but you’re probably right. I’m purposely… screwing it up.” Kung Lao unclasped his hands and stood then dragged the chair from Liu’s desk and sat on it backwards. He couldn’t seem to sit still since you had fallen unconscious. Liu had struggled with that too, but he’d always had an easier time focusing than Kung Lao had. “The bet’s off. I’ll tell her about it, I guess. I don’t want to feel like I’m hiding anything anymore.”

“Is that so?” Liu smiled, feeling a little relief. “Not going to make me do your chores?”

��Not over this at least. I’ll weasel out of them some other way, I’m sure.” Kung Lao grinned. He seemed like himself for the first time in days. Maybe it really had been weighing on him as heavily as it had been weighing on Liu.

“Does that mean I was right? Self-sabotage?”

“Ugh, can you not rub it in? Just for once?”

“Not a chance.” Liu Kang laughed, and Kung Lao leaned his arms on the back of the chair then rested his chin on them with a heavy sigh. Whatever happened, he knew that they would be okay. They’d broken the dam when it came to talking about it, which felt nice if not a little daunting. At some point, he had gotten nervous to bring it up again. He didn’t want to hurt Kung Lao, but he couldn’t give up on you either even if he couldn’t get it out of his head that it was selfish for him not to.

“So, she kissed you again, huh?” Kung Lao diverted attention away from his emotions, something he did very frequently. Funny enough, Liu thought that you did the same thing. You were similar in many ways. “…wait, you didn’t want to end the bet because you uh…” Kung Lao sat upright, and alert suddenly then made a motion with his hands that was rather crude. Liu Kang hesitated but then shook his head no. “You didn’t win and not tell me, did you?”

“Those weren’t the terms of the bet, remember? I would have never agreed if it had been.”

“That’s evasive, Liu.”

“I’m just saying that the conditions had to do with her choice and not any physical achievement, Kung Lao. We’re not stupid kids.”

“Wow, this is so incredibly defensive.” Kung Lao whispered in wonder.

“I dislike talking about this with you.” Liu Kang frowned. “Talking about her like this with you. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I hate it too!” Kung Lao laughed and threw his arms up in frustration then let them fall back over the chair dramatically. “Just… look, tell me if I lost. Tell me if I don’t stand a chance. I just want her to be happy.” He said this all with a grumble, as if it were like pulling teeth to say it. It was funny how uncomfortable he was with his emotions.

“That’s what I want too.” Liu Kang nodded to agree. “And I’m not the one to decide who wins or loses. And this isn’t a bet anymore.”

“No more bet.”

“The bet is off.” Liu Kang sighed with a relief. He wasn’t sure that Kung Lao was going to actually let it go. He was difficult to read. “That’s a huge relief.”

“Yeah, I mean… yes and no for me. You called me out and now I have to think about that.”

“Poor, poor Kung Lao. Having to think his own thoughts.”

“It’s a burden, really.”

“We have to tell her, Lao.”

“Yeah, I know. Can’t fix the self-sabotage thing if I don’t. And if you tell her and I don’t then that makes me look bad and we… we all know you and honesty, for the most part.”

“I can lie when I need to but I’m not going to lie about this.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. They sat in awkward silence again. There were plenty of things that they should have talked about, but it still felt weird to. Usually, they would have joked about this kind of thing and had the other to confide in, but they were both worried about hurting the other’s feelings and dashing their hopes.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Hmm?” Hadn’t he? He didn’t remember not answering Kung Lao.

“I asked if you two… you know.”

“Can you not say the words, Kung Lao? Are you not an adult?”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to picture you two doing that.” Kung Lao stuck his tongue out and then shook his head as if to dismiss the mental image. “But did you?”

“No. I thought I told you no.” Liu had hesitated again. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to on your trip. No, he had wanted to, but he had thought about that stupid bet and how much it could potentially hurt you to have done that and then found out there had been stakes attached to your emotions. He’d pulled himself back because of it more than once while you were in Huangshan.

“How am I supposed to interpret that, Liu?” Kung Lao was laughing, at least. Liu Kang hung his head and Kung Lao only laughed harder.

“Look, she had a nightmare, so I let her sleep in my bed.”

“I’m sort of disappointed that you didn’t get laid at the end of this story.”

“It was your stupid bet that ruined it.” Liu chuckled but he could feel his face turning red.

“What, did you wake up with a half chub or something?” Kung Lao was teasing him, but he’d gotten to the end of the story before Liu had found a less crude way to tell it and Liu covered his face in embarrassment. Kung Lao was wheezing with laughter. “Liu! You didn’t!”

“In my defense, I was having a nice dream and she was right there in my arms and…”

“Wow, Liu. That’s more me than you.”

“I’m only human, Kung Lao.”

“Just, wow.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Liu pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His face was still burning but it felt nice to laugh about it with Kung Lao. He hadn’t talked to you about it because that felt like opening a floodgate and he’d needed to end this stupid bet first. Plus, it was kind of a difficult conversation to start. It was easier just to make a move.

“Did she… notice… or?”

“…I hate that you guessed so accurately. I never would have told you outright.”

“It’s amazing.” Kung Lao smacked the back of the chair in glee. “So?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she noticed, Kung Lao.” Liu Kang hung his head again, hands on his knees. Kung Lao was practically choking to death with how hard he was laughing at him. “You could try to enjoy my misfortune a little less.”

“This is the funniest thing that has happened in weeks, Liu Kang.” He wiped a tear away and tried to regain his breath. “Why didn’t you just go for it? I would have gone for it. Wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

“Well, I’m not you. All I could think about was how hurt she would be if we did that and then found out about the stupid bet. And she had been so frightened after her nightmare. I played it off the best that I could given the circumstances.” Liu was laughing now too. He couldn’t help it. It was funny. And it felt good to laugh after having done nothing but worry and stress for three days.

“You know what, Liu? You are a much better man than I am sometimes.” Kung Lao wiped his eyes and regained his composure. “I never would have let that opportunity pass.”

“I know. I had no intention of telling you the truth either.”

“I’m glad you did. I needed a good laugh.”

“At my expense, of course.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell again, but it was at least less awkward. Liu supposed if that came at his expense than he was okay with it.

“What do we do now?” Liu sighed. Kung Lao was avoiding his eyes again.

“I don’t think it’s really up to us what happens next with that.”

“Yeah.” Liu nodded to agree. “…no hard feelings no matter what happens, right?”

“Not going to be that simple, I think.”

“Of course not, Kung Lao. But above all things, you are my brother.”

“Yes. Nothing will change that. It might just be weird while we figure it out.”

“Yeah, probably.” Liu didn’t have much else to say on the matter. Silence again. While he felt relieved that they’d cleared the air and sorted things out, it still weighed heavily on them both.

“…I’m going to check on her again.” Kung Lao stood and stretched his arms before nodding toward the door. “Want to come with me? Might overwhelm her.”

“No, I don’t need to see you harassing that poor woman again. She said that she’d tell us when Y/N wakes up.”

“I don’t believe her, Liu.”

“You have made that abundantly clear.” Liu Kang smiled, and Kung Lao bowed his head to say goodbye. “If I hear any jokes at my expense throughout the rest of the temple, Kung Lao, you will be sorry.”

“My lips are sealed, Liu.” Kung Lao chuckled again under his breath and then left Liu Kang alone with his thoughts.

[odos-bucket]

So I was reading @andillwriteyouatragedy​‘s incredible Brand New Day where Bruce and Clark adopt a young Dick Grayson together, and was thinking about a sort of companion story where they take in Jason together too. Using that story as a rough reference, I’m gonna say they’ve been together for a decade or so here. Dick is somewhere in his late teens. I’m figuring Clark probably offers to tag along on Bruce’s annual trip to crime alley every year. Bruce always politely declines. It’s basically become a part of the day’s bleak tradition. Clark is surprised when for once his offer is accepted. Later on, if pressed, neither of them would be able to pinpoint what was different about that night that made Bruce decide that it might be okay to have some company for once. Clark probably feels weird about it at first. Even though he’d asked Bruce if he wanted company, and Bruce had said yes, which he never would have unless he’d absolutely meant it (and Clark knows that). It still feels a little like he’s intruding on something private, even sacred. Then of course they get there, and there’s nothing going on. Superman’s senses don’t pick up the slightest hint of disruption anywhere in the neighborhood. Maybe they start patrolling around it anyways, maybe they just wander for a couple of blocks. Sooner or later they overhear someone talking about how it’s this night every year that Batman comes calling. Local criminals have picked up on the fact that if they just keep their heads down for this one specific night they can pretty much avoid him. Bruce is all grumbly about it, and immediately goes into ~strategy mode~ like, “Okay, I’ll have to start coming here on different days, on an irregular schedule.” He immediately opens up a dozen different tabs in his brain with calendars, and crime statistics, and is thinking a mile a minute, because that’s what he does. He’s kind of agitated about needing to change something that’s been a ritual for so long (because Batman has OCD, fight me) and he’s annoyed at himself for being bothered by it. Absolutely none of this sudden inner turmoil is detectable in his expression or body language. But Clark knows Bruce, knows how he reacts to things, and that there’s no way he’s not annoyed right now. He says, “Sounds like tonight will be a bust if we stay here,” then when Bruce grunts in response, continues, “We could go back to the manor. Watch a movie.” Then after a pause. “Or we could patrol somewhere else.” A moment passes. When Bruce says, “Okay,” Clark isn’t sure which suggestion he’s agreeing to, but they start back towards the car. It’s not a long walk, but they aren’t moving particularly quickly. By the time they get back to the batmobile it only has one wheel.

Clark frowns as he walks closer, before being stopped in his tracks by a surprising sound. It’s a sound that he recognizes immediately, that he hears all too infrequently. Bruce is laughing. Clark’s mouth quirks into a half smile. He takes a few steps forward, thinking about just picking the whole thing up and flying it back home. Then from a few paces ahead he hears Bruce’s low, gravelly Batman voice say, “Hi there.” Once he’s tuned in to the idea of another presence nearby, it becomes obvious to his advanced senses that someone is lurking behind the car. “Shit,” a small voice says. Bruce takes a few steps closer. “Planning on finishing the job?” He gestures to their remaining wheel. Clark shifts until he can get the kid partially in his sight without the aid of x-ray vision. He’s small, and looks to be somewhere in his pre-teens. “I got no idea what you’re talking about,” he says quickly. “Oh really?” Bruce asks. The boy glares at him. “Nice tire iron,” Bruce continues. “Comes in handy.” “I bet it does.” No sooner than the words are out of Bruce’s mouth, the tool is colliding with his shin. The boy shoots out from behind the car, and down a nearby street. Clark starts toward Bruce, who quickly gestures for him to go after the kid instead. He catches up with him in less than a second. When his hand falls onto the kid’s shoulder he freezes, muscles tightening throughout his body, and heart rate speeding up rapidly. The fear response is so sudden and extreme that Clark finds himself pulling away as if he’s been burned. The anxiety around being feared is something he’s mostly left in his past, but there’s a deep rooted insecurity within him that it still prods at. The kid stumbles when he starts to run again, and by then Bruce has caught up. They hang back, but trail after the boy at a distance, until they reach a condemned building a few blocks away. “Should we go in?” Clark asks. “Probably where my tires are,” Bruce says, before climbing through an uncovered doorway. It isn’t hard to find him again. There aren’t too many heartbeats in the area to distinguish between. When Bruce opens the door to the dilapidated room, the boy’s pulse rate jumps through the roof. Nothing changes externally about him though, and Clark wonders whether or not Bruce can tell that he’s afraid of them. There’s the slightest vibration to his words when he speaks. “Okay, take your stupid tires already. I’m sorry, all right? Just leave me alone!” Bruce isn’t looking at his tires. He’s looking around the room, no doubt noticing the same things that Clark has, mold, water damage, a broken window. The place is freezing. Then in the corner there’s a cardboard box with some pasta and canned goods in it, a small stack of books, and a mattress on the floor. “Do you… live here?” Bruce asks. “Yeah. What of it?” Bruce takes a few more steps into the room. “Where are your parents, son?” Clark asks. “Mom’s dead. I dunno where Dad is; don’t really care, if I’m being honest. Now take your stuff and go already!” He’s holding the iron up again, wielding it in a manner that’s clearly meant to be threatening. Bruce plucks it out of his hands with relative ease, inspects it, then turns it around and hands it back. “Move your thumb up like this, and you’ll have a sturdier grip. And don’t stand with your legs so far apart, it’ll put you off balance.” He sighs. “What’s your name?” “… Jason.” He grabs the tire iron back, shuffling to adjust his grip and footing, keeping his stance defensive. Bruce looks around the place again. “You can’t stay here, Jason.” “Oh yeah? Says who? I can take care of myself! Been doing it for long enough.” Bruce glances up at Clark, who can see the wheels turning in his head, before looking back at Jason. “I’d really like the wheels of my car back,” he says carefully, then hurries to continue before Jason can interject. “Can I make you a deal? We’ll buy you dinner if you reattach the batmobile’s tires?”

There’s a fast food place a couple of blocks away that’s open 24 hours. Jason agrees to accompany them, but walks a few yards behind. The employees at the place aren’t at all phased by the appearance of the two vigilantes. Bruce inspects a suspicious stain on one of the walls, while Jason and Clark look at the menu posted above the counter. They order- Bruce gets two of what Jason asks for- then go outside to eat. Bruce is lost in thought as they exit the restaurant, wondering what it would take to bring free food trucks to the area. Jason’s halfway done with his meal by the time they sit down on the sidewalk. “Do you go to school around here?” Bruce asks, wanting to put together a fuller picture of the boy’s situation. Jason gets a distant look in his eyes in response to the question. He finishes chewing slowly, swallows, then shakes his head, clearing his throat before replying. “No. Not for a long time now.” He shrugs. “I got all I needed to out of it.” “You had some pretty advanced reading material back at your place for someone who didn’t finish middle school.” Bruce recalled seeing The Odyssey amongst his few possessions, as well as a couple of Shakespeare plays. Jason shrugs again. “Reading’s not that hard.” “Some people find it very difficult,” Clark says. “Some people are stupid.” Bruce cuts in before Clark can start on the gentle reprimand he can see him preparing. “Ever think that maybe you’re just smart?” Jason gives him a curious look, like that really wasn’t a possibility that he had considered before, then takes another bite, and stares off thoughtfully. “So, Homer,” Bruce prompts. Jason nods. “It’s a fun story. Odi-seuss is a dick though.” Bruce resists both the compulsion to correct his pronunciation of ‘Odysseus’, and Alfred’s voice in the back of his head urging him to tell the kid not to swear. “What makes you say that?” He asks instead. Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe all the pillaging, and murdering he does throughout the entire book.” “Poem,” Bruce corrects. “What?” “The Odyssey is a poem.” “Wait, really?” Bruce hums an affirmative. “Huh… cool. But the point still stands.” “I’m inclined to agree with you. Have you ever read The Scarlet Pimpernel?” Jason shakes his head. “It’s been a personal favorite for a long time,” says Bruce. Clark shoots him an amused grin. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone throwing out a copy,” Jason says. Bruce frowns. “You have a library around here.” The remark earns him an unamused snort. “It’s a Gotham library; people don’t go there to read books, they go there to buy, sell and/or ingest drugs, and they tend not to be too happy with anybody who’s lingering around while they’re doing it.” Bruce feels a pang, not for the first time that night. “Jason,” he starts, before realizing he isn’t sure what to say. Jason keeps angled to watch him expectantly as he rises to deposit his napkins and bag in a nearby trashcan. “We’d like to help you,” Clark says. “Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “Right. Just how do you plan on doing that? Because I’ve heard that before. I’ve done the whole foster care thing already, and I’m not about to go through it again.” “No,” Bruce is quick to agree. “But there are residential schools in the city. We could help you to get enrolled in one.” Jason seems taken aback by the offer. “…Why?” He asks slowly. “Well for one, because kids should be in school. You’d be provided with room and board for the duration of your time there, which would leave you with less to worry about.” He reaches out to pass Jason the second takeout bag. He’s still lingering at a distance from them. “At least think about it?” “No. I mean, like, why?” Bruce’s eyebrow raises, tugging at the material of his cowl. “What’s in this for you?” Jason continues. “Why do you even care?” “It’s our job,” Clark says. “You’re job is to beat up bad guys.” Clark smiles when Jason mimes punching someone, before saying, “Our job is to help people.” Jason purses his lips. “Don’t boarding schools cost money?” “Most of them offer scholarships,” Bruce says. “I have a few friends who are deans. I could make the necessary introductions to ensure you a place at one of their institutions.“ Jason’s arms are crossed high over his chest, and his expression is set like he’s deep in thought. “I don’t want to end up stuck somewhere where someone else is the boss of me.” “How about you at least come with us to check a couple of these places out,” Bruce suggests. “Just see how you feel about them. No commitment.” Jason’s nose scrunches up. “Where exactly are these places?” He asks. “It varies,” Bruce says. “All within the city.” They watch the boy chew on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Just to see,” he says eventually. Bruce nods. “I’m not getting into a car with you,” Jason adds. “We can take the bus,” Clark offers. Jason raises an eyebrow at that, and his mouth quirks almost into a smile. “Batman and Superman are gonna ride on Gotham’s shitty public transit?” “Why not?” Clark asks. “… Okay,” Jason says, still plainly unconvinced. “Let’s meet back here,” Bruce suggests. “Tomorrow?” Jason takes a minute, but eventually starts to nod. “Sure,” he says. “Why not.” They part ways after Clark disposes of his empty bag. The heroes return to their car.

While they’re driving back Clark says, “I know that look.” Bruce pauses to take stock of his own expression, and makes sure to neutralize anything on his face that might be out of the ordinary. Clark continues, unbothered by the lack of response. “It’s your ‘I’m already deeply emotionally invested in this kid’ look.” Bruce hums noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Clark adds. Bruce doesn’t either, but that’s par for the course at this point.

Part Two

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 309: Gotta Go My Own Way

Previously on BnHA: Muscular was all “well if it isn’t the protagonist on his solo journey of self-discovery, for some reason I’m unironically glad I get to fight you!” Deku was all “hey Muscular before I finish kicking your ass would you please take a moment to answer these two survey questions? Question one, do you regret being a total piece of shit? And question two, if you could do anything at all in the world other than being a total piece of shit, would you?” Muscular was all, “pfft, no and no.” Deku was all, “thanks buddy, your feedback helps make me a better hero, here’s a coupon for fifteen percent off your next ass-whooping.” Then he whooped his ass.

Today on BnHA: Deku is all “what up All Might can you believe you’ve been here this entire time?” All Might is all “I sure can since that’s literally my catch phrase, anyway how are your magic movie 1 gauntlets holding up?” Deku is all “they’re holding up fine, how are Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist doing?” Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist are all “we, your fellow co-conspirators, are also doing fine, thanks for asking!” Flashback!Deku is all “anyway so I secretly have All Might’s quirk and the most dangerous people in the world are after me, so sorry mom but that’s why I’m dropping out of school.” Inko is all “I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT” while totally accepting it. All Might is all “I GUESS WE’LL JUST HAVE TO GO ALONG WITH IT SINCE I DON’T FEEL LIKE TRYING TO STOP HIM.” Hawks, Jeanist, and Endeavor, as previously mentioned, are all “yeah that sounds like a good plan”, and Gran is all “see ya kid, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” So basically everyone in the entire world has suddenly teamed up with Deku to defeat AFO, except for the one person whose entire foreshadowed endgame is “teaming up with Deku to defeat AFO.” O Kacchan where art thou.

dear tumblr image limit: okay look. you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. but just as an experiment, I’m gonna try writing this recap with as few images as possible and we’ll see how it goes

(ETA: spoilers for how it went: it didn’t, lol.)

oh my god WHY ARE WE OPENING WITH MORE KETSUBUTSU ACADEMY KIDS.ffs we’d better at least finally get some Ms. Joke content out of this

(ETA: seriously who do I have to bribe.)

so these two KB kids who no one cares about are watching Deku leap away from the scene after dispatching Muscular. but more importantly wtf is this chapter title omg. “I can’t stay being a child” so that’s how it is huh. we’re gonna have feels and we’re going to like them. well then

oh my god he’s hauling Muscular away dhfksklfkh okay this is gonna have to be our first image because I can’t fucking help myself. look at this

just. Deku is so tiny and he’s carting away this massive unconscious lump of a man like it’s nothing why is this so funny to me. it’s like when people buy furniture, and they don’t want to pay extra for delivery and so they’re like, “I can definitely fit this king-sized mattress in the back of my compact sedan if I fold the fucking seat down, idk.” and they refuse to be talked out of it, and the next thing you know you’re watching them drive home with their open trunk door haphazardly tied down with bungee cords, and somehow it fucking works. because it turns out the compact sedan has super strength

anyway for SOME REASON now Horikoshi is all “have fun with that Deku, meanwhile we now return you to your regularly scheduled SHINDOU CONTENT” whyyyyyy

look at this. we’re really using up a whole fucking entire page on everyone arguing over who gets the honor of carrying Shindou

love how the civilians are all, “shit lol is this actually our fault?? quick, how do we play this off all casual like we were the reasonable parties here all along”

turns out all it took to finally get them to listen was making them watch while a kid got his insides ground into a pulp because of their stupidity!! what a heartwarming conclusion to this little standoff

anyways THANK GOD we’re cutting back to Deku now!! well actually we’re cutting back to Muscular who is being dropped off at the police precinct, good bye and good riddance lol

so Deku’s leaving him there and bounding away and okjdlSKFJLKJDSL OH MY GOD

no fucking way. no fucking way this little jaunt is All Might-sanctioned and approved. are you serious?? then who else is in on this?? what the hell is going on

so All Might is just WAITING FOR HIM IN AN ALLEY FFF WHO ARE YOU, JIM GORDON. or would Alfred be a better analogy here?? but like, Alfred if he ditched the suit for a moto jacket and shades

this new ensemble of All Might’s may or may not severely impact my ability to take this forthcoming conversation seriously; please stand by

also, quite the spectacular landing there, Deku. seriously lol what was that

“HOW ARE YOUR LIMBS” “THANKS TO YOU THEY’RE COMPLETELY FINE” I’M SORRY WHAT

LOL WHAT. “THANKS TO THE POWER OF THESE MAGIC GLOVES” OH I SEE THAT EXPLAINS IT

are these the same gauntlets from the first movie, then? well that’s all well and good, except that now there’s going to be more Deku Discourse than fucking ever lol. so if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m gonna once again go ahead and declare this week’s post a discourse-free zone, at least when it comes to the specific discourse of Deku’s merits as a MC, and the impact that him kicking ass and having working arms has on said merits. this has been something of a low mental energy week for me, so I’d rather reserve the energy I do have for more fun topics, such as All Might’s bitchin’ leather jacket

anyway so All Might’s saying that the gauntlets will help reinforce Deku’s arms, but they can’t withstand OFA at 100%. so basically it’s a support item designed to maintain the status quo lol. we’re basically in the same situation we were before, arm-capability-wise

homg All Might’s getting a call. time to see who else is in on Operation: Deku Alone?? or not so alone for that matter

omg

HI HAWKS, WHERE ARE YOUR WINGS

(ETA: seriously are they really gone for good?? why would he even be back on active duty then?? does he have his own American ex-boyfriend who can hook him up with exclusive support items?? dammit Horikoshi we want answers.)

looks like Jeanist and Endeavor are teaming up as well, just like they said they would. I would gladly follow this trio around all day long tbh

is this the same giant villain from the very first chapter??

looks like it to me, and it would tie in with that callback from the end of chapter 306. we all thought that was Muscular, but maybe it was this guy, and Deku left these three to deal with him while he ran off to take Muscular down

oh my god now Deku is running off again just like that

kids these days

ffffff I have not had nearly enough sleep to follow along with whatever tf Hawks is talking about here sob

like, is he trying to say that All Might is keeping Deku’s whereabouts unknown to anyone except for him?? in order to keep him safe?? but Hawks is pointing out that that’s a bad strategy and probably won’t do shit against AFO and it’s better if he lets Deku work with the rest of them?

(ETA: so @hanashimas​’ translation makes a lot more sense -- it’s not All Might who’s being overprotective, but Deku. in other words he’s trying not to drag All Might into his battles. and in addition Hawks is saying that their strategy is to take the offensive and go after AFO themselves rather than wait for him to come to them. which I’m not too sure about myself, but that’s another topic for another day.)

btw I can’t help thinking how much better this entire conversation would be if All Might was still wearing his sunglasses. put them back on my dude. it’s not too late. embrace your inner badass

DKLJSLDKFJL FLASHBACK ALERT, FUCKING FINALLY

“turns out, we were just trying to scare you straight. fuck lot of good that did though lol”

also what is this. one true love: the hospital bed. is that a scanlator joke or is Horikoshi actually that funny omg

SKLJDFLJLK

ITSA ME!! omg I love this hospital so much. though it’s sure not helping me in my quest to try and keep this post below ten images. I’m already up to eleven haha r.i.p. to me if tumblr doesn’t get its shit together

whaaaaaat, so he’s saying that Deku’s injuries were external (i.e. Tomura beating the shit out of him) rather than internal this time?? whaaaaat. excuse me but that’s some bullshit lmao. believe me, I was there

okay now he’s going on to explain that Deku’s “internal structure” seems to have been protected from the inside and out, and the corresponding panel seems to be implying that using Blackwhip as a brace paid off. huh

and also that his body is just stronger now?? so I guess he’s better able to withstand the quirk after an additional year of training?? I’M NOT SURE IF I BUY ANY OF THIS LOL but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief

OH MY GOD RED ALERT, INKO IS ASKING ALL MIGHT TO EXPLAIN WTAF DEKU’S QUIRK IS, IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGG

SO HE’S EXPLAINING IT TO HER OFF-SCREEN, AND INKO IS JUST LIKE

I GUESS THAT’S FAIR LOL. IT’S TRUE INKO I’M SO SORRY, YOUR SON IS A PROGATONIST R.I.P.

AHHKKJH DEKU ANGST IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGGGG

what is this soft pop beat that’s suddenly being pumped in over the speakers. I’VE GOT TO MOVE ON~ AND BE WHO~ I~ AM~~~, I JUST DON’T BELONG HERE, I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAND. also, follow-up question, when is Kacchan finally going to come back so he can jump in with the “WHAT ABOUT US~~~” bridge, huh. come the fuck on, Horikoshi

lmao All Might jesus christ

but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision...

anyway, yes!! finally that sweet, sweet “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger” angst!!

mmm that’s good angst Brent. Kacchan with center panel honors as usual, you love to see it. anyways though who do I have to yell at to get Deku a goddamn HUG around here seriously

so Inko is of course reacting with panic, and sensibly saying that she doesn’t approve of Deku’s “RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE BAD GUYS ALL ON MY OWN, DON’T WORRY MOM I’LL JUST GET STRONGER, EASY AS PIE, IT’S A FOOLPROOF STRATEGY” plan

son of a bitch this manipulative green asshole is really gonna sit here and smile fondly at his mom and try to convince her that he’s Not A Little Kid Anymore. the hell you’re not mister

y'all are really just gonna sit there and let him talk you into this?? surely it can’t be that easy??

OH MY GOD

THE FEELS oh my god oh my god. BUT ALSO YOU’RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO COLLAPSE INTO HIS ARMS SOBBING AND LET HIM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS LKJLJLFK. WHERE ARE ALL THE STRICT PARENTS AT?? AIZAWA, GANG ORCA, MITSUKI, SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND TELL DEKU TO SIT HIS ASS THE FUCK DOWN. NOW LISTEN HERE YOUNG MAN!!

“EVEN IF I TRY TO STOP YOU YOU’LL STILL LEAVE” WELL SURE, IF BY “TRY TO STOP HIM” YOU MEAN POLITELY TRY TO TALK HIM OUT OF IT FOR THREE SECONDS. HE’S SIXTEEN WTF WHEN DID HE BECOME THE BOSS OF YOU ALL. SOMEONE NEEDS TO COME AND TELL HIM HE’S GROUNDED

anyway sob so that’s the story of how Deku talked his parents into letting him drop out of school, and even convinced All Might to be his own personal Guy In The Chair. holy shit. this kid really went and rolled a nat 20 and the rest of them had no choice but to fold without argument

meanwhile here’s a panel of Best Jeanist trying to braid his phone into his hair just cuz

I’m dying to know which part of his language he considers to be crude here. you literally didn’t even use a contraction my guy

so now flashback!Deku is talking to Gran in the dark, and Gran is all “can you believe I’m not fucking dead yet lol that’s too funny. anyway, you sure I can’t interest you in killing Tomura after all?? no?? okay then here’s my cape.” truly a heartwarming scene

I’m kind of torn here tbh. on the one hand, my adhd ass wasn’t all that interested in sitting down and having an extended scene between these two when there’s so much else that I want to get to. but on the other hand, even I can admit that cramming this entire reunion into a single page seems just a BIT rushed. idk. like maybe someone can let Horikoshi know it’s a marathon and not a race. Deku didn’t even get any dialogue here, some of us want to know his thoughts!! but anyway

AND JUST LIKE THAT?!

how did all four of them let him con them into this. I literally just watched it happen and I still can’t figure out how. “I GUESS THIS SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT IS OUR LEADER NOW” ffflfjf. when Aizawa finds out he’s gonna go apeshit. AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHO I HAVE BEEN ASSURED DOES IN FACT STILL EXIST. WHAT ABOUT USSSSS, WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH. WHAT ABOUT TRUST???! YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUUU

btw lol don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying this, and I’m honestly glad Deku’s not alone because that would suck for him! but that said, Hawks and Jeanist have lost any credibility they might have once had as far as being The Responsible Ones, and as for All Might and Endeavor, fucking hell lol. everyone just deposited all of their fucks in a bank somewhere for safekeeping and decided to never look back. godspeed you mad lads

[blossom-hwa]

Sunflowers |Summer| - JUYEON

Can’t believe it’s already Juyeon’s birthday!!! Hope deobiblr enjoys my contribution for the birthday of one of the best dancers in the kpop industry <3

I will be doing a taglist for Sunflowers, so if you’d like to be notified when the next part goes up, send me a dm or an ask! Post dates are also on my posting schedule :)

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, high school!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Juyeon is just a sunflower, following the light of your smile. 

Summer | Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer, Once More

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ in summer, a stranger comes home

. . . . .

It’s the middle of summer when your mom delivers you a little piece of seemingly innocuous news, a piece of glittering information wrapped in old magazines and tied with cheap string to disguise its sparkle. Her voice literally vibrates with excitement when she tells you, which probably should serve as a warning or a signal of some sort, but in your defense, you’re tired from a day of classes and research programs and just want to eat and die.

“Our old neighbors are coming back!” she bursts, a spring in her step that you haven’t seen since the day you were accepted to your current prestigious research camp. “You know, the Lees who used to live next door?”

You blink once, then twice before the information sinks in. A memory settles at the front of your mind. “The Lees?”

“Yes!” She smiles widely. “I missed Yuna so much, I can’t believe she and her family are actually moving back. Don’t you remember, you used to be such good friends with Juyeon?”

More blurry memories of playing in the grass and dancing in the living room with a chubby little boy flash through your mind. You remember playdates that turned into study sessions in middle school, study sessions that disappeared when Juyeon moved away. And though you’d like to forget it, you remember sobbing your eyes out the day he left at the end of summer, the weather turning to fall. Sunflowers were blooming that day, wreathing your lawn in an unfairly bright ring of yellow as you wrapped him in one last hug before his father started the car and the family drove away.

“Mhm,” you only say, taking a box of cookies out of the cupboard. “I remember.”

“Won’t it be so much fun for you two to meet again?” Your mother’s smile turns suggestive as she side-eyes you. “You two were always so adorable together. Didn’t you once say he was your boyfriend in kindergarten?”

That memory makes you cringe. “Thanks, Mom, I was doing a really good job of forgetting that before you mentioned it.”

“Oh, hush.” She shoos you out of the kitchen. “You two were so cute together. I have no doubt you’ll be the best of friends again when they come back.”

“I haven’t seen him in four years, Mom,” you remind her. “People change.”

A glint comes into your mom’s eye. “Maybe so,” she replies cryptically, “but some feelings remain.”

Okay, so in hindsight, you should’ve taken a lot of what she said as a warning that your life was about to get flipped upside down by Juyeon’s homecoming. But with everything already on your mind, you more or less forget about the news until one day towards the end of summer, when your dad tells you to come straight home after your classes.

You stare up at him over your bowl of cereal. “Why?” you ask, mouth full.

“You don’t remember?” Your mom sits down just across from you. “The Lees are moving back in today, and we’ve invited them to dinner!”

Your brain buffers for a good few minutes before you finally recall your dad saying something about “dinner with the Lees when they come back” a couple weeks ago. “I didn’t know they already came back.”

“Well, they are.” Your mom’s fingers tap on the table with excitement. “You have your research, but we’ll be helping them move back in today, and then they’re coming over for dinner. We’ll probably already be home before you get back, so try not to look too messy, okay?”

Wincing, you remember the several still-recovering formic acid burns on your forearms from several days ago. You can’t hide those. “I’ll do my best,” is all you promise.

So that afternoon, instead of staying behind and chatting with a few friends, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk to the front of your house much earlier than usual. There are new cars in the driveway next door.

With the sunflowers beginning to bloom on your and your neighbors’ lawns, it feels eerily similar to the day Juyeon and his family left.

A slight wave of nervousness roils in your stomach. Quickly, as you walk up the pathway to your house, you try to untangle your hair with your fingers, straightening out your shirt as best as you can. As tired as you are, you don’t want to make a bad impression on your parents’ good friends. You don’t exactly want to look horrible in front of Juyeon, either. Even though he probably doesn’t have any idea what you look like anymore.

With a deep breath, you grip the doorknob and twist. It’s locked.

Frowning, you look down at the unmoving handle. Your parents must’ve locked it by force of habit when they came back.

So you knock.

Literally nothing could have prepared you for the boy who opens the door several seconds later to your pounding. He’s tall, muscled, with fine features and a curious look in his eyes, and he looks vaguely familiar.

For several seconds, the two of you just stare at each other, neither saying a word. As you’re trying to figure out why a really hot guy is at your house right now, a much more familiar woman appears in your line of vision, smiling widely as she holds out her arms to you. “Oh, my!” she cries, pushing past the boy to wrap you up in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lee,” you reply, still trying to figure out who the tall boy is. It isn’t until she starts pulling away that you realize he has her nose and her eyes.

Huh?

Then –

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You nearly stumble back into the door from shock. “JUYEON?”

. . .

Juyeon thought his feelings for you had disappeared, he really did. When he moved away and thought he was never coming back, he took the love he’d held for you for so long, put it into a box at the back of his heart, locked it, and threw the key away. And as the years slowly passed, one after another, the box slowly disappeared from the forefront of Juyeon’s mind. He never forgot about it, but memories of you eventually stopped plaguing his mind day and night.

But that box never disappeared, not really. He thought it did, thought it dissolved into nothing over the years. Instead, it stayed, small but there, waiting for the right moment to burst and flood his body with the feelings he’d so carefully packed away so long ago.

That right moment is apparently when he opens the door to see a face he really never thought he’d ever see again.

Juyeon doesn’t recognize you, not at first. At second glance, he can pick out some distinct features that stayed the same (namely the sparkle in your eyes that hasn’t changed, even after all this time away). But during those first moments when he opens the door, he just stands there, trying to figure out who this person in front of him is.

Then it hits him, and the box of feelings explodes just as his mom starts pushing him away to wrap you in a hug.

You clearly don’t recognize him, judging by the curious looks you keep giving him over his mom’s shoulder. That makes Juyeon self-conscious – he hasn’t changed that much from when he left, has he? – and the embarrassment only compounds when you stumble back into the door, eyes widening as you yell his name in shock.

So, suffice to say, the conversation between you two at dinner is almost nonexistent. You look like you want the ground to eat you alive in your seat across from Juyeon, eyes barely looking up throughout the whole meal, talking only when someone asks you a direct question. Meanwhile, Juyeon’s stuck in his head.

Why, he despairs, didn’t these feelings actually disappear? Why does he still want to look into your eyes, get lost in your gaze like he used to so many years ago? Thoughts spin in circles in his head, thoughts of how you’ve changed and how you’ve stayed the same and how, oh God, his heart still races like no tomorrow when you meet his eyes for the briefest second before looking away out of embarrassment.

Juyeon needs a moment. He needs a moment to breathe, to think, to reason himself through this whole situation, which is why he volunteers to wash the dishes after dinner. Your mom starts praising him for being a perfect son and he dutifully lowers his head in embarrassed acknowledgment, thanking the heavens that he’ll have a moment to actually think, before she then looks at you to ask, “Why don’t you help Juyeon too?” and the world starts crumbling around his feet.

In perfect tandem, the two of you start picking up empty plates and bowls and carrying them to the kitchen sink. The adults make their way to the living room, laughing and chattering loudly, which only makes the potent silence between you two more prominent.

“I can wash,” you offer awkwardly, still barely able to look Juyeon in the eye (which is perfectly fine, because he thinks he might combust if you do just that). “You can dry? If you’re all right with that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Juyeon tries to flash a smile, hoping it isn’t too shaky (the thumping in his heart makes it feel like the world is trembling around his feet). As the water runs and you start passing plates over to him, he does his best to ignore how close you are, how easy it would be to accidentally brush your arm with his.

Silence reigns until half the dishes are dry, and then you open your mouth. “Sorry about earlier,” you blurt, embarrassment and shame visible on your face. “I, uh, didn’t recognize you at first. Freaked out for a second.”

It’s surprisingly easy to laugh at that, to laugh at a statement that’s so blatantly you. You still haven’t changed, Juyeon thinks – you’re still the same bluntly apologetic friend he was in love with four years ago. It cheers him when your lips begin to turn up at his burst of laughter, face still embarrassed but beginning to warm with some happiness. “It’s okay,” he says, drying the next plate. “I didn’t recognize you either, not at first.”

“Well, I guess we can say that we’ve both changed,” you acknowledge, finally looking up fully.

Your smile could bring legions to their knees, Juyeon thinks. It certainly stops his hands from drying the next dish – in fact, he almost drops it. Even though the curve of your lips is small and he can’t see all of your teeth, the sparkle in your eye more than makes up for it. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah.”

The two of you scrub dishes for the next few minutes in quiet again. Juyeon has no idea what you’re thinking, but he’s just trying to calm the beating in his heart.

This is not how he expected to feel when he moved back. Not at all. What he’s feeling isn’t even just everything he locked away at the end of seventh grade – somehow, the emotions have multiplied, compounded over years of neglect, and now he’s getting the full force of it.

“My mom wants us to be friends again,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “What do you think about that?”

Um, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Juyeon thinks. Do you want to be his friend again? Or are you only trying to be nice to him for the sake of your parents?

“Well.” Juyeon bites his lip. “If you want to be friends again, I’d like that. But if it’s, um, just because of your mom, we don’t have to.”

At that, you smack a rubber-gloved, soapy hand against your head, shrieking slightly when you realize there are suds in your hair. Juyeon laughs, really laughs as he hands you a towel from a nearby rack. “God, I’m a fucking mess,” you groan, wiping the bubbles from your forehead. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t want to be your friend again just because of our parents, that was just the only way I could think of to bring up the topic and yeah, I should’ve thought this out, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Didn’t you get into one of the most prestigious research camps in the country?” Juyeon counters, hands moving automatically to take the towel from you and wiping off the suds himself. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes, I am.” You sigh. “I think it’d be nice to be friends again. If that’s fine with you.”

With your words fluttering in his heart, it takes Juyeon a good moment to realize he’s been standing with the towel pressed against your head for a full few seconds. Heat rising to his ears (he hopes you don’t see that), he quickly wipes off the last of the bubbles and returns the towel to the rack. “That’d be nice,” he echoes softly. “I’d like that.”

The smile you give him, tentative but much wider than before, makes Juyeon feel like he’s flying. He’s so far gone, he thinks, drying the last dish. He’s only seen you again for a few hours, and already your smile has him feeling some kind of way.

He’d follow that smile, he thinks. He’d follow that smile anywhere, just like one of the sunflowers on your lawn outside chasing the sun from dawn to dusk. That’s all he is, after all. A sunflower, following the light of your smile.

And as you look up, eyes scrunched as he says something to make you laugh, Juyeon doesn’t think he minds.

Not in the slightest.

[otterbagel]

The Reunion (Part 1) Simon x Reader

Reader makes a rash decision, one that has long lasting consequences.

(Notes: There are two parts to this! Next part should be out next week. I'll probably start spacing out my posts after this so I don't get burnt out like last time. Also, didn't get to edit this one as much as I should've; the whole thing ended up pretty long and would take a long time everytime I tried to edit it. Can't believe it took me this long to finish one about Simon!!!)

"Hey, this is quite the unusual find, you gotta admit."

   Your eyebrow raised without hesitation, your eyes looking down to check your shoes. "Not really," you remarked softly, eyes going back up to meet the object of the discussion: a PL600 android.

   The salesman, who had uncomfortably started hounding you for the sale after you had curiously drifted towards the humanoid, was gesturing towards it flippantly with a toothy grin. "At this price?! Tell me, no, tell me where you found one this cheap— in this good a condition?"

   Your mouth automatically frowned. The arms were covered by a dark undershirt that made most of the skin unseeable— any damage not on the face and hands wouldn't be factored into the buying purchase. You had a feeling this clothing choice was intentional.

   "Just three hundred bucks!" The seller's round face turned into your line of sight. You quickly looked away out of discomfort.

   Your eyes landed onto the android's clear blue ones. You hadn't looked very closely at any androids before, despite walking amongst them nearly every day. Did they all look this lifelike? 

   Maybe you were looking way too into it. 

   You swallowed, aggressively fumbling for your wallet with a grunt of annoyance. "Okay, fine. Three hundred."

   With a pleased noise, the seller took off with your card, waving it in the air between two of his fingers. 

   You crossed your arms beside the android, who didn't seem to take any notice of what had just transpired. 

…

   Reality had begun to hit you like a truck on the way home.

   By the time you opened the door to your tiny house, you realized just how big of a rash decision you had just made.

   The android stood behind you quietly and without complaint as you released the door handle, letting the door softly bang against the wall. You stared dumbly into your own house, coat hanging limply from one of your dangling arms as you searched your brain for a solution. 

   You frowned, shaking your head rapidly. "I have no room for this."

   "Excuse me—"

   You jumped at the android's sudden intrusion into your own self reprimand, a small noise of fright escaping you before you could even begin to think of holding it back.

   "—would you like me to get started?"

   "Uh, yeah yeah yeah, uh… do whatever you want," you waved it off awkwardly, holding a hand to your chest as you attempted to catch your breath. You hurried inside, embarrassed of the whole situation. 

   You sat down on the couch as the android closed the door and walked past you and into the kitchen.

   Without turning it on, you stared at the TV as your fingertips rubbed against your face in nervousness.

   That had been such an impulse buy. You couldn't believe you had done that.

   The faucet turned on for a moment. You think you had put a cup in there, but there wasn't much else to clean.

   It seemed to be working properly. The guy who sold it was certainly odd and abrasive, but all in all it was a pretty good deal. Usually they were more than twice as much; newer models so expensive that the thought of you owning one was impossible. Even if it had some cosmetic damages, that was a small issue compared to its functionality.

   Trying to ignore the strange new entity in the house, you flipped on the TV. It was the news.

   There was some story about a recent fire that had decimated a small apartment building on the outskirts of Detroit. The police said it likely had something to do with Red Ice, although most evidence would probably be destroyed.

   The android had finished whatever it was doing in the kitchen and had quietly begun watching the TV from the archway. 

   You looked at it as it parted its lips in preparation to speak. "Are you a fan of the news?"

   "Sort of," you chuckled, looking back to the screen. "I work at a newstation— not this one, but I like checking it out from time to time."

   The android nodded, continuing to watch the screen as it held its hands politely behind its back.

   You looked it over, getting that feeling of nervousness again. "W-what's your name?" You blurted out quietly and without any grace.

   It blinked at you, the LED spinning blue for a second. "My previous owners named me Simon. Would you like to change my name?"

   You shook your head to yourself. "Do you like your name?"

   It squinted at you in confusion before returning to its natural, composed look. "It's good," it responded.

   Although you tried to maintain a jovial body language, you weren't doing a good job. "Great! Si… Simon is a great name," you chirped out awkwardly.

   "Thank you," Simon replied, giving a small head bow.

   You turned your head away from it as you felt your face grow warm with embarrassment. 

   What on Earth was happening to you?

   

…

   You had been having a strange dream about work when you heard someone calling your name.

   "...huh…?" you called out groggily.

   Your name again. "...I think you're going to be late for work at this rate…"

   Your eyes fluttered open. Simon was fiddling with his hands as he held them in front of his chest, eyes moving between you and the clock beside the bed.

   It said 8:32.

   The comforter was flung nearly off the bed as you jumped up in a panic. "Oh geez, yeah I'm gonna be late…" Random clothes filled your arms that you grabbed from your drawers as you prepared to go to work. "Thanks for waking me."

   Simon quietly made his way over to you as you tried finding a pair of socks. "I didn't hear you walking around this morning," he said with a chuckle. "And where you stayed up later than usual last night… I figured…"

   A laugh escaped you as you headed off towards the bathroom to get ready.

   He had been living here… maybe three months? It had seemed like a much longer time than that. In that amount of time, things had definitely changed between you two.

   Despite it being his intended purpose, it felt strange to have someone doing all your housework for you. It became an odd ritual pretty quickly: once you got home, you would work on chores together. Not that there were many— that was one of the perks of having a small house— but it just made you feel better about the whole thing.

   The whole process was a bit cathartic for you; away from the hustle and bustle of the busy, stressful life at the newstation and into a warm, domestic one.

   You hurried to the front door to slip on your shoes, Simon leaving his spot on the couch to see you off. 

   "I think I'll make it on time," you joked as you looked up at him. "Thanks again."

   "No problem…" he responded quietly, struggling to retain eye contact with you.

   As you rose to your feet, he gave you a brief hug. Your face immediately began to burn bright red.

   "Have… have a good day at work…" he stuttered out before walking in quick strides to the kitchen.

   You were still frozen in place by the time he exited your vision. "Y-you too…" you blurted out before fumbling out the door, realizing your linguistic blunder before you had even closed the door.

   As you headed down the street, you let your hands touch your heated face. 

…

   You had nearly run home out of excitement.

   It had been such a small thing, but the prospects of your future career had your mind going nuts.

   After fumbling to get the key in the door and tossing it open, you slung your coat off your arms in a fluid motion. "Simon! Simon! You won't believe it!"

   He was sitting on the couch— like he usually had been over the past year— engaged in some overly dramatic show you weren't particularly fond of. His eyes were wide at your sudden entrance. "Yes?"

   You let the door make its way closed before you kicked it shut behind you, holding your arms out. "They said they liked my article!"

   Simon stared for a moment before his LED flashed in excitement. "THE article?" He sat up on the edge of his seat, smiling at you as he was filled with a wave of positive energy.

   "Yeah!" You nodded. "Not to get you too excited, but they're showing it to some of the higher ups, but it looks like I might get my own schedule slot soon!"

   "Oh wow!" He exclaimed, rising to his feet and taking you into his arms to lift you up for a split second. "I knew it would happen! I'm so proud!"

   You erupted into a fit of giggles as he held you, almost enjoying his praise as much as your own success. "Thanks Simon, I couldn't have done it without you."

   He released you, letting his hands rest against your sides. "That's not true," he responded quietly, his face red as he looked to the side.

   With a warm smile, you nodded to him. "Yes," you drawed out for effect. "You even came up with the idea. And, not to mention, the moral support."

   He stepped back a little, crossing his arms as he attempted to hide his expression of happiness. "You're too kind."

   The TV played in the silence, Simon fiddling with the edge of one of his sleeves as he pulled it down.

   Your mind raced as you looked at his hand, debating on bringing it up right now when the mood was so light.

   "They mentioned… uh... increasing my pay," you began, watching his expression for any hint of distress. "I thought that maybe… we could finally… you know… get that fixed…"

   His hands trailed along his sleeve as he nodded to himself, seemingly lost in thought. "Yeah," he responded. "That would be nice… but it would be so expensive… are you sure?"

   It had taken a few weeks to first see it, and even longer for you to see the full extent of the damage, but your initial thoughts had been correct. The long sleeves had been put on him for a reason, and it had seemed as though it had gradually become a personal choice as well.

   His forearms and biceps had a lot of physical damage, certainly from his previous owners. 

   Luckily, it had been almost purely cosmetic. Aside from a few light dents and scratches to his actual body, it was just a matter of getting the covering fixed. As of now, the white sheen of his android body was always visible underneath his sleeves.

   You wrung your hands together out of nervousness. "I just know how you said that you wanted it fixed," you took in a sharp inhale. "It won't be a problem to actually do, I've already been saving for a while…"

   He smiled, rushing in to hug you again. You, a bit caught off guard this time, was frozen in place.

   "I'd like to put the past behind me," he said as you finally came to and hugged him back, albeit still in a bit of a shock. "I think this is the first step."

   As you embraced, you couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement and anxiety.

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

-------------

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.