#I dunno moot while I agree on what you’re saying

[drblacula]

! < while I do agree with you ; I think that regardless of where you go on any platform , people follow what’s beautiful . I think that’s pretty obvious considering fashion trends exist .

Also what if the way someone shows their personality and self . Using those ibispaint filters . And those strokes and glow strokes .

also I haven’t seen a single profile that looks exactly like the other since everyone is different and has a different way of editing .

I wanted to talk about something important today. Have you noticed, rentries all look the same. Profiles all look the same.

Everyone looks the same.

Have you noticed that? Everyone's blog looks the same. There's no originality. There really isn't. Its all copy and paste ibis paint edits and masks. Some are pretty but I'm not interested in following that same, bland routine anymore of fancy tags, typing with quirks, trying to seem "cool".

Everyone is trying so hard to make themselves heard and express themselves but the truth is, graphics and templates are less self expression and more watering your identity down to try to be aesthetically pleasing. While yes it's pretty to look at, it's all the same. It's all bland.

It does not make you prettier on the inside to have a pretty rentry or blog, if you are a nasty person you are still a nasty person. So for those who do not have a pretty blog just know that how aesthetically pleasing something is doesn't define how good it is, doesn't define the quality of your content or the quality of your identity.

HOWEVER, how pretty your blog is DOES affect how people treat you on this app which is horrible. You get more blind sheep followers that follow every pretty blog they see but let me ask you this. Do most of you even know which blog is which? They all look the same, dont they. You probably have to look for a while to find the right one. No originality.

Your NAMES and pronouns don't even mean anything to you on this app, you chose them from a list of aesthetically pleasing names that everyone else on this app also uses. No wonder you change names so often, you are not being yourself. You are being what you think is cool, and aesthetically pleasing.

Most of this content is all copy paste, copying everyone else, everyone is always copying everyone else.

It's all watering down everyone's personality to perfection and templates. That isn't reality.

I will be the first to say it if no one else will.

This is a message for anyone looking to blog.

Please just be yourself. It's alright if something doesn't look perfect. Genuinely. Just have fun, don't try to get formats and templates and masks, unless you really want to. But in my opinion, it doesn't look very good.

Thank you for listening, please reblog if you agree.

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

in honor of the mcu reminding us that the guardians of the galaxy are canonically friends with an asgardian today, how about a snippet from the ohtmb thing i've been playing with:

-

“Yeesh,” Rocket says, and he hops off Groot’s shoulder, shuffling over with a little device in his hands that keeps beep beep beeping faster and faster the closer he gets to the guy— at least until one of Loki’s magic shields goes ahead and shimmers into existence right in his path, and he smacks right into it.

“Ow,” he yells, rubbing his nose with his free hand, “you krutackin’ son of a—!”

“Don’t go walking right up to it, you idiot,” Loki practically hisses at him, shield dissipating as he steps past Rocket.

“Why?” Rocket yells, waving at it. “It’s just a dead guy! We’ve all seen a dead guy.”

“Not him,” Loki says, and he’s right up on the guy now. “What he’s holding.”

Gamora asks, “And that would be…?”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, squinting again. With all the ice, he can barely make out the shape of the guy at all, let alone anything he might be holding. “What is it?”

“Is it the weapon?” Drax asks.

Rocket, apparently having forgotten that quick about Loki making him run into a magic shield, says, “Oh, man, it’s a weapon alright, and it packs a frickin’ punch.” He’s looking down at the device in his hands, then he holds it up in the air like a camera. That thing might as well be spouting off specs in a secret code; Peter can’t make heads or tails of what it’s picking up, but Rocket sure can. “Oh, yeah. I could make one hell of a bomb out of this.”

“We’re being paid to recover it, Rocket, not scrap it,” Gamora reminds him. “Loki? What is it?”

Without turning around, Loki asks, “Are any of you Frost Giants?”

“We are not,” Drax answers.

Peter shakes his head. “Yeah, last I checked, you’re still the only one here.”

“Well, then I suppose it’s a weapon of mass destruction that, if any of you were touching it while it detonated, would freeze you from the inside out down to… probably just about Absolute Zero within the span of a few seconds, judging by our friend here,” Loki says, waving vaguely at the dead guy. “And then, if I had to wager a guess, it would result in an unstoppable cascade that would freeze everything around you for quite a large radius, freezing anything in its path and rendering all life moot.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Rocket, dude, please try sounding a little less turned on by that,” Peter tells him.

Gamora asks, “And if we were Frost Giants?”

Loki tilts his head, still inspecting the dead guy. “Then I imagine it would make quite a lovely paperweight.”

“So, we’re… assuming it’s safe for you to touch it?” Gamora asks.

Peter puts hands on his hips. “I dunno, dude, maybe you should let Rocket run a few tests before you— and he’s grabbing the ice bomb.”

“Loki!” Mantis shouts.

“I am Groot!”

“Relax,” Loki says. He’s already rolled up his sleeve, and now he’s working at prying the little hourglass-shaped thing out of the dead guy’s frozen fingers. “Now that I’m this close to it, it’s far less dangerous to any of you. If it goes off, I’ll simply banish it to the same pocket dimension where I keep all my weapons.”

Peter throws his hands up. “What about you, man? I mean, why not just banish it there now instead of just grabbing the damn thing?”

Loki pauses, looking up from the weapon still encased in the dead guy’s fingers. “Well. Because my weapons are in there.”

“And?”

“And I’d rather not risk damaging them except as a last resort,” Loki says, like that should have been obvious. “Some of them are quite valuable.”

“Right,” Peter says. “So you can’t risk your fancy knives, but you can bare-hand the WMD.”

Loki nods, giving the thing one final tug; the dead guy’s fingers break off with a crack that would be a lot less gross if it wasn’t, y’know, a dead guy’s fingers. Loki doesn’t pay that a whole lot of mind. He turns the weapon over, inspecting both sides of it—his hand, unlike the rest of him, has gone full on Frost Giant now, all deep blue with cold steam wafting off his knuckles. The skin of his arm is just as deep blue all the way up to where he rolled his sleeve up, and his sleeve’s crackling with a bit of ice, too.

That’s about where it ends, though. His face and the rest of him is still a hundred percent Asgardian.

“There, see?” Loki says, flashing them a smile. “Easy.”

[rjhpandapaws]

I dunno if I'm allowed to piggy back off of another prompt but...do you think you'd be interested in writing the scene with Hank and Connor burning his Cyberlife jacket? 🥺👉👈

//I would love to actually. //Based off of this ask

Connor hadn’t been in a mood to go shopping understandably so Hank did the next best thing. He went out into his garage and grabbed a couple of boxes with clothes he had been meaning to donate, some of them were Ezra’s, some were Cole’s, but most were things he hadn’t fit in for years. He let Connor go through them and decide what he wanted to wear. He came out of the bathroom in sweatpants with pawprints on the ass that Ezra had gotten him as a gag gift one Christmas and a meme t-shirt from his college days. “Just as a heads up, you can take whatever from those boxes they were just gonna be donated anyway. It’ll give you something to wear until we can get you some better clothes of your own.” Hank barely managed to say with a straight face. There was something about going from seeing Connor in a business suit to hot pink sweats and a black shirt that said “You Taco Too Much.” that was killing him. There was also something sort of remarkable about it. It was a sign that things were finally starting to change, that Connor was finally stepping into personhood. “Thank you Hank, but I think I might order things online while I’m here.” Connor replied in his usual tone, “I mean no offense by this, but your taste in clothes is genuinely awful.” That broke Hank and he started laughing. “You aren’t the first to say that.” He eventually responded when he gathered himself enough to breathe again, “So we have clothes, trash, and an old chair we can burn. What else does a good bin fire need. Company, I’ve got that.... food, you don’t eat so that’s kind of a moot point... I think we have everything then. Now its just waiting for it to get dark.”

“Why? We have everything so why not do it now?” Connor asked. “Its the principle of the matter kid, and a little symbolic too.” Hank elaborated, “You’re putting to ash who you used to be so it makes sense that we would do it when the daylight is dying. That way tomorrow you can be whoever it is lies lies beneath your code, or at least start finding out who that is.” “Well for one, I don’t think he likes graphic t-shirts.” Connor said dryly. “Yeah. That phase passes pretty quickly for everyone.” Hank remarked. “Mine was I think just my first year of college, then after that they were buried at the back of my closet.” “Mine I think was about an hour. These are horrible.” Connor was trying not to smile, Hank could tell from his eyes. “Go change then.” He remarked. Connor broke into a slight smile, “No. I like this one. Any others though, I don’t want anymore.” “And the sweats?” He pushed. “They have paw prints on them.” Connor argued weakly, “I like dogs.” “Connor, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you are someone with shit taste in lazy clothes too.” Hank remarked with a laugh.

Connor only rolled his eyes as they settled back on the couch. Hank grabbed a carbonated thirium for Connor and beer for himself on the way back. The passed the afternoon with bad tv; Hank had decided to show Connor the shows from when he was growing up, and conversation. Though that was mostly Connor asking why the characters were doing things or what the premise of the show was to be if it wasn’t education. Hank honestly didn’t mind explaining it to him, though Connor didn’t seem to keen on the idea of mindless entertainment and chose it pick apart the shows instead. He would give Hank his theories and Hank was glad to indulge him. While he was still sitting stiffly, it was the most relaxed he had ever seen Connor and that was all he wanted right now. He kept an eye on the front window watching as the day passed them by. When it was finally getting dark he turned off the tv and stood up. “You ready Con?” He asked as Connor stood. “As I’ll ever be I suppose.” Came the reply. He looked almost nervous now. Which was understandable, this was a big step for him. He was burning the last bridge he had with CyberLife in the most literal sense. When this was over the only thing he would be was his own, those would be the marks he wore. Hank was proud of him really. Two years was a short amount of time to make so many changes, especially when those two years where the only ones you had lived. Connor picked up his clothes while Hank opened the sliding door to get to the backyard. It had been years since he used the fire pit, not since he had done backyard camping trips with Cole, so this was sort of a big thing for him to. A memory to add to all of the ones the pit had given him. A start to being someone Connor trusted with the big things. Something that deserved a unique start.

Hank go the things they would be using for fuel set up and then Connor draped his shirt and slacks over the top, they couldn’t burn the shoes safely so they would give those away. He let Connor douse the pile with lighter fluid and throw the match. Once the fire was fully roaring he grabbed his blazer and threw it into the flames. He didn’t know what Connor was feeling, but Hank was feeling a sense of smug satisfaction at watching the last of CyberLife’s claim to Connor burn away. “This feels strange.” Connor said after a moment. “How do you mean?” Hank asked. “It hurts... but in a pleasant way I think?” He tried to explain, “Like I understand I am not supposed to be doing this so there is a task to grab the jacket, to save it, but not doing that is what is the thrilling thing.” “Ah, yes, the rebellious phase.” Hank chuckled, “That is normal actually Connor. When you make your first big change after stepping out on your own. Especially when you know its not something the people that once..... well, you know, wouldn’t like. But that is also the best part about it as well, you finally get to define the things you want to do and be.” “It all seems so complicated.” Connor sighed, “But its also nice, I suppose, to feel things this complex. It means its real.” “Exactly.” Hank agreed, “And some feelings are simple, like the calm that comes after your first sip of coffee in the morning, or the contentedness of coming home. They have motivators but they allow you to just be. Not everything you feel is going to be this big and menacing, but they will feel just as good I promise.”

“Is it really that simple? You just feel things and move on?” He continued. Hank nodded, “Or at least that’s how it is for me, there was never the option for me not to feel things, though I suppose I would have taken it if there were. So for a while i think everything you feel might be huge, especially since you will be feeling it for the first time. And if you ever need me, my dog, fire pit, and couch are always here.” “What if I just want a friend?” He said as he turned to face Hank. “I can be that too.” He replied, “As one particularly cheeky android put it once, ‘I can be whatever you want me to be, Connor.” That got him a laugh and the cloud of Connor’s existentialism seemed to pass as they both turned back to watch the flames tear away at what Connor used to be. It could go anywhere from here, and that was what Hank was looking forward to.

@connork1000

(Prompt from this list)

[hogarthwrites]

just friends

pairing: young samuel drake/reader (m/f) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 3,155

summary:

Sam's your best friend, and you're hopelessly in love with him. It's cliche and it's stupid, but you can't help it. Is it really okay to be in love with your best friend even though you know it might ruin things between you two?

note:

Hi! This is a two-part story. The first part takes place in the past, in 1989, while the second part will take place in the present day.

tags: unrequited love, best friends

1989

You stared at your notebook covered in doodles as your history teacher, Mr. Phelps, talked on and on. A 90 minute class felt like three hours and you couldn't wait to just get out to see Sam.

Your vision kept blacking out as you tried to stay awake, something Mr. Phelps noticed right away.

“It was ironic that the British Empire condemned pirates when they pillaged and stole more than those buccaneers ever have, isn't that right?” The old man was looking directly at you and you blinked yourself awake and nodded.

“Yup, I agree,” you tried to act like you were interested.

“Welcome back,” he laughed.

You sighed and slumped further into your chair. 3 o’clock couldn't come any sooner.

As soon as class ended, Mr. Phelps asked to talk to you and you gulped as you picked your backpack up and walked to his desk where he was looking through papers.

“I'm worried about you,” he slid a paper across to you and y ou picked it up and frowned at the F in red taunting you.

“I'm gonna have to ask for a guardian or parent’s signature on this.”

“Really?” You sighed.

“I'm sorry, but it's just school policy,” Mr. Phelps shrugged. “Look, don't be afraid to ask questions, alright? I'm here to help.”

“Sure,” you pursed your lips and shoved your test paper into your bag.

Sam was lying on the grass in the park and reading a book when you found him, and you tilted your head to see what the book was. Treasure Island . Again.

“You know grass stains your jeans?” You nudged him with your Nike Cortez sneakers.

“Well look who the cat dragged in,” Sam gave you a lopsided grin as his brown eyes met yours.

You felt your cheeks burn and you quickly sat down next to him so you wouldn't have to face him. It was something you didn't want to admit, but you had a budding crush on Samuel Morgan, your cocky, way too ambitious best friend who was probably deranged.

“Fuck my life,” you groaned as you plopped down on the grass.

“I thought grass stains your jeans,” Sam tugged at your denim skirt.

“Fuck you,” you stuck your tongue out.

“Oof, cranky.”

“Sorry, it's just been such a shit day.”

“What happened?”

You pulled your test and put it on his chest. “That happened. Uncle Arthur’s going to skin me alive.”

Sam looked at the paper, and you almost thought he was going to laugh because he looked so amused, but instead he sat up.

“Let me help you,” he simply said.

“Help me?”

“Yeah! Like those tutor people.”

“What makes you the history expert?”

“My mom taught me, and pirates are kind of my thing. You know that,” this time it was Sam who nudged you with his worn out Chuck Taylors. “Come on, let me help you.”

“Fine, but can you do me a favour?” You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“Yeah, what is it?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Can you wait for me outside if Arthur decides to kick me out?”

It was a joke of course. Arthur wouldn't dare kick out his favourite -- and only -- niece. He did, however, lecture you about your priorities and banned TV for a month. As soon as you got to your room, you looked out your window and saw Sam smoking next to his red motorcycle.

You waved out a handkerchief to signify that things were good, and you could've sworn you heard Sam laugh before he drove away.

Sam’s apartment was actually a room he'd rented out in an older woman’s ( she’s just a friend , Sam had said) home near the city. It had a bed in the corner with an Indiana Jones poster above it and books piled on the wardrobe.

You sat on the floor, your back against the bed while you wrote the essay Mr. Phelps asked you to do while Sam read on his bed. Soft music played from somewhere outside and it was softly raining outside and all you wanted to do was lie down on the cool floor and take a nap.

“Done,” you announced as you finished your last sentence.

“Alright,” Sam plopped down in front of you, your knees touching. “Show me what you’ve done.”

Saying nothing, you held it out for him and buried your face between your knees.

“Hmm,” Sam grunted. “I mean, you’ve certainly memorised what you needed, but…”

“But?” You peeked up at him and saw that he was sucking in his cheek.

“But why was it important that pirates like Thomas Tew and Henry Avery pillaged the East India company?”

“For treasure?” You cocked your head to the side.

“Close, but you see, India’s economy dwarfed Europe’s at that time, and there weren’t any powerful navies in the Indian Ocean, which made a lot of the vessels there an easy target,” Sam explained, his hands flailing around as he talked. He did that a lot, and you thought it was kind of cute.

“Oh, alright,” you wrote what he was saying down on a piece of paper. “You make it a lot easier to understand than my stupid textbook.”

“Good to know,” Sam grinned. “If you get a good grade, I’ll take you out. My treat.”

Your face lit up. “Promise?”

“I promise. We’ll go anywhere… As long as I can afford it.”

“I’m holding you to that promise,” you stuck your tongue out.

It was quarter past nine when you were done rewriting your essay and Sam had fallen asleep. He was your ride home, but you figured if you walked fast enough you’d get home before 10 PM. You put your books away and looked at Sam who was gently snoring, his brown hair messy on his pillow.

He stirred when you covered him with a blanket, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t really make out.

“Good night, Sam,” you whispered as you turned off the light and stepped out.

Sam was waiting outside after school with a smug look on his face. You held up the paper as you approached him, doing a little victory dance before giving it to him.

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m a wonderful tutor.”

“Oh please, you were asleep for most of it,” you jokingly punched him in the shoulder.

“I think the A on this piece of paper makes your point moot.”

“Fine,” you giggled as you took your paper back and stuffed it back into your bag. “Where are you taking me then?”

Sam hopped onto his motorcycle and patted the seat behind him. “I dunno, it’s your choice.”

“Hmm,” you tapped your chin. “I’ve always wanted to go on a picnic.”

“Really?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Alright. But what about food? It’s not a picnic without food.”

You ended up buying burgers and a small cake at a local diner and without a picnic blanket, you laid out a little lace handkerchief on the grass where Sam meticulously set the food. It looked a little ridiculous, but it was the best you both could have done with what little budget Sam had and at short notice too.

It was a cool evening and you happily ate your burgers while Sam blabbered on about Henry Avery. When he leaned back, his pinky touched yours and you froze, unsure if you wanted to move away or not. It was funny how just the tip of his finger touching yours made you feel hot and all you wanted to do was take his hand in yours.

Sam kept talking, but you wondered if he noticed that you probably just stopped breathing. You read plenty of romance books, hell, you even ready Forever by Judy Blume, but you never knew what it felt like to actually be in love. No, you shook away the thoughts. I can’t be in love with Sam… This is just infatuation. Nothing else.

You practically memorised him, the way he’d run his fingers through his unkempt hair, how he’d talk with his hands, how he’d bite his lip when he was upset. You saw him fall in and out of love with a variety of people, and you were always there for him. It was almost pathetic how much you knew about Sam Morgan, and you wondered if he memorised you the same way you did with him.

Something cold dripped on your cheek and you looked up as rain started pattering down.

“Oh shit,” you frantically picked the mostly eaten cake up while Sam picked up whatever was left of the burgers and the handkerchief and followed you to a gazebo nearby.

“Well, that ruined a perfectly good picnic,” Sam had his hands on his hips. “Is the cake alright?”

You looked down at the soggy cake. “It had better days.”

Sam laughed before he stuck his paper cup into the cake to get another slice.

“Really?” You looked up at him.

“What?” He shrugged between bites. “It’s still a cake. It’s not like the rain is dirty or anything.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“It’s fine,” Sam shrugged again. “Thanks for the picnic, by the way.”

“Nah, you paid for it.”

“But it was your idea. I haven’t been on a picnic since…”

Since his mom passed away. He suddenly looked forlorn.

“I know, Sam,” you reached out and touched his arm.

“Do you mind if I steal this picnic idea? Nathan might like this too,” he forced himself to smile.

“Not at all. Tell him I say hi, alright?”

“Sure thing.”

The rain lasted long enough for Sam to mostly finish what was left of the cake and once the sky cleared up, he drove you home.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way,” you smiled as you stood by his motorcycle. You could hear the sound of a TV blaring inside and you knew Arthur was probably waiting up.

“That’s just what friends do, right?” Sam grinned. Right. We’re just friends .  “I’ll see you on Monday?”

You nodded and watched him drive away. Arthur was fast asleep on the sofa while an old western played. You were always grateful he took you in when your mother ran off to Europe and your dad felt you were too much responsibility, but it made you sad Sam and Nathan didn’t have the same privilege.

You turned the TV off and placed your somewhat damp essay on the coffee table before going to your room.

I don’t love him . It was a lie you constantly told yourself. Believing it was getting harder every time you were with Sam and you could barely look him in the eyes without butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You tried to make yourself stop, but you just ended up thinking about him more.

Your grades improved, much to Arthur’s delight and you hoped you could keep it up until after graduation at least. You applied to some colleges, but you were nervous with your mediocre grades and lack of extracurricular activities.

“And I can’t escape / I’m a slave to love…” Sam sang as he tossed a baseball up and down. He didn’t seem like it, but he was a pretty good singer. You were on the floor again doing your homework while he sang along to the song that was playing outside.

“Is there a bar here or something?” You asked.

“Nah,” his brown eyes followed the baseball. “There’s this old man who plays music on his roof. The lady says it’s because he misses his wife or something.” He shrugged. “It’s not too bothersome. He has good taste.”

“I guess it’s better than Arthur’s loud westerns at home,” you muttered. “That’s sad though. He must have really loved his wife.”

“Yeah,” Sam simply shrugged.

“What? You don’t think you’ll be an old man yearning for his spouse someday?”

“I don’t even think I’ll fall in love, to be honest,” he ran his fingers through his hair.

You laughed. God, I hope you’re wrong .

“What about you?” He nudged you with a socked foot.

“Gross, get your nasty socks away from me!” You shrieked, which made him push his foot against your back more. “Sam, stop, I swear you’re disgusting.”

“Come on,” he teased. “I bet you have a little crush. Was it Vicky? Whatever her name was? The one with the…” He gestured at his chest.

“No!” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “Don’t be rude. Vix is just a good friend, and she’s dating some guy anyway.”

Sam gave you a smug grin. “Alright. Keep your secrets.”

It was quiet again while you went back to your homework, your heart pounding from the interaction. What a bastard, you thought. If he knew… If he knew I had a crush on him, this would all be over. You didn’t want to think about what it would be like without Sam.

“I got this fancy letter for you from the University of Texas at San Antonio,” Arthur strolled into your room and handed you a letter. “You really wanna move that far away from your ol’ Uncle Arthur?”

“It’s a good university,” you stuck your tongue out as you tore open the envelope. “Please, please, please,” you whispered.

You barely read past the “Congratulations!” when you squealed and jumped out of bed. “I made it!”

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Arthur embraced you. He looked at the letter then frowned. “Biology?”

“Yeah, I think I kinda wanna be a doctor someday,” you bit your nail.

“And someday you will be,” he ruffled your hair. “Promise you’ll phone as much as you can, alright?”

“I’m still here, Uncle Arthur.”

“You’ve just grown up so fast,” he sighed. “What am I gonna do when you’ve gone off to be a doctor?”

“You could get a dog?”

“Huh,” he grunted. “Maybe.”

A week later, he came home with a puppy named John.

As graduation loomed closer, you felt excited, but you were left with a melancholy feeling of having to leave Sam behind. He was his usual, oblivious self, but you wanted to do it. You wanted to tell him before you left.

It was getting warmer again, so it was different to see Sam without a jacket on as he squatted on the pier, skipping rocks in the river. It seemed like there was something on his mind and he didn’t even notice you coming up to squat next to him. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a rock skipping far.

“Nice,” you said and he looked at you in surprise.

“Oh, hey,” he gave a weak grin. “Didn’t know you were here already.”

“Yeah, you seem busy.”

“Nah, just got a new job out of state.”

“You're leaving?” You felt your heart drop.

“In the fall, yeah, but not for long I hope.”

Sam fell silent, and you felt your heart beat quickly in your chest. Was this the right time? You were graduating in a few weeks, then you were off to San Antonio, unsure when you were ever going to see Sam again.

“Sam,” your voice was weak and he hummed in response. “I–I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah? What's that?” He looked worried when he turned to you.

“I could tell you anything, right? Promise you won't laugh?” Your cheeks flushed and you felt like your heart was gonna leap out of your chest. What am I doing?

“I won't laugh.”

At three, you took a deep breath. One... two…

“Sam, I like you,” you blurted out. “No, I think I'm in love with you.”

His expression softened at your words.

“I'm sorry, I tried my best not to let it get to me, but we're parting soon and I just thought–”

“I've always known,” Sam interrupted.

“What?”

“That you have a crush on me.”

“Oh.”

“I didn't wanna say anything because this is the best friendship I've ever had, and I don't wanna ruin what we have. We're great like this.”

Oh .

Best friendship.

The butterflies in your stomach turned into moths and you wanted to vomit. A lump in your throat grew and you held your breath. The last thing you wanted to do was to cry in front of Sam.

“I'm sorry,” you looked down at your feet.

“Hey,” he lightly nudged you. “We'll always be close. I'll write to wherever you are in the world. I promise.”

“Alright,” you nodded weakly. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Bring it in,” he held out his arms and you leaned into his embrace, trying not to sob into his shoulder.

You spent the night crying while you packed your bags, deciding not to bring anything that reminded you of Sam to college with you. You had to get over him.

Your chest felt heavy as you felt your heart break with every stupid lovesong that came on the radio. Why did you even bother confessing, of course Sam wouldn't be into you. Why would you even want to ruin your friendship like that?

The day you had to leave for the airport, Sam was at your window early in the morning.

“Mornin’, college student,” he smiled as he climbed into your room.

“I thought you were going to see me off at the airport,” you yawned.

“Just thought we could spend a bit more time together,” he looked around your now empty room. “Wow. You're really leaving.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “San Antonio, here I come.”

Sam didn't react, instead he turned back to look at you, his brown eyes scanning your face. “Hey listen, uh, a few weeks ago… I'm sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you sat on your bed. “No, it's fine. You're right, we're great friends.”

“I didn't mean to break your heart or anything.”

“I completely understand, Sam.”

He reached into his pocket and asked for your hand. There he placed a little medallion with a star engraved on it. It looked more like a little coin with a chain pierced through it.

“Here, it's a late graduation gift. I couldn't get out of work to buy it early enough, but I made it just in time last night.”

“Sam, this is beautiful,” you gasped. You made your way to the vanity and put the necklace on.

“It's just so you won't forget me, the most amazing friend you could ever ask for,” he looked smug.

“And it was such a sweet moment too,” you shook your head. “Thanks, Sam. I don't think I can ever forget you.”

You hugged him, feeling his arms around you tightly. At the moment, you felt your heart break, suddenly missing someone who was right in front of you. Your tears flowed, and you buried your face into his shirt as he soothed you.

“Promise we'll see each other next summer?”

“Promise.”

“Promise you'll write and call?”

“I promise.”

But Samuel Morgan was gone by the next summer.

[internalsealpanic]

Lesson Learned

summary: Pinning exercises are a lot easier when you ask nicely.

a/n: The backstory to this piece was that I went to the church part of our discord server and told people about me being thirsty about Slade and they collectively went: DO HIM. The reader does have a backstory which boils down to rich girl from a crime family is a little shit because I thought this would have a funny dynamic with Slade.  Special thanks to @batarella and @knightfall05x for proof reading and giving me ideas. Would this count as my one entry for kinktober? 

warnings:  This is straight up smut. Please read responsibly. Brat taming, strength kink, daddy kink, orgasm denial, and hinted size kink. (Hilariously half of these were by complete accident.) There is some injury mentioned but not too graphically. Both characters are assholes.   

masterlist

Slade was on the ground, his head was swimming even as the sharp shriek of sirens rang loud in his ears. His senses were at once too sharp and too unfocused. Whatever drug he'd been hit with had to have targeted the nerves in his muscles too. He couldn't move. Not substantially anyway. Not in a way that would actually help him.  Through the haze he hears the clicking of heels against the floor, then a sharp pain shoots through him when said heel dug into one of his still closing bullet wounds. 

 You stood above him, your shark's smile hidden behind your mask.  "Well old man, I didn't think you would be caught this easy. I might need to rethink this meeting." You hummed tapping your chin as you lean down your heel digging further into his flesh. It's a tactic your sister had taught you. People were less inclined to think clearly when in excruciating pain.  If Deathstroke was this easy to capture, was he really worth your money? 

 He was watching you, blue eyes looking defiant. You whistled low. You liked a hard negotiation. It kept things more interesting. The rapid footsteps of men drew you out of your contemplation much to your annoyance. You debated on just paying them to go away. It would make your life easier but there's a chance these men were truly loyal to the man you had just paid a visit to.

 You weigh your options. His reputation may be enough to keep your siblings away. Maybe just long enough 'til their petty little war is over. "I'm going to hire you-"

 "-this assumes I'm going to say yes"

 You snorted. He noted the confident roll in your shoulders, the kind of cocky self-assured gesture of someone who knows they're going to win.  Every movement, every angling of your form deliberately used to show a difference in power and lack of respect. In short, it made you very punchable.

 "Your statement assumes you have a choice." You chuckled tilting your head to the side in challenge. He scowled at you and you try to keep the sheer delight you feel out of your body language. You weren't sadistic by any means but for one, brutality was practically bred into you, and two, you are, what your darling eldest brother had so kindly put, a  little bitch.  "I'll tell you why you'll say yes to my proposal." You said stepping off of him and pirouetting towards your duffle bag. "One, I'm offering your more than a million dollars in cash for the simple job of training me-" You observed his face as it remains carefully impassive. You expected as much. You heft your bag into your arms and unzip it rummaging through the cache of weapons you had stored just in case plan A through F failed you. "Unless we're associated, I'm the only one walking out of here with any money for their troubles." You said tossing the severed head of his target in front of him. You gave him an all too pleased grin. 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You find yourself pinned down again in the span of 15 minutes, face squished against the training mat, your arms pinned behind you, and most annoyingly your ass raised while your bastard of an instructor laughs in your ear, his lips dangerously close to your ear. You hiss and bristle feeling the fibers in your muscles burn from the uncomfortable angle they've been forced into.  You squirm trying to buck him off but his strength rendered your efforts moot. His enhanced strength keeps your body firmly between the sweat-covered mat and his large, toned body which just made you bite your lip to keep anything vulgar from escaping you. 

 You were 110% sure he was fucking with you at this point but any smart remark you had was either smothered by the mat or died whenever you felt acutely aware of your skin against his.  

 "Get off of me, old man," You snarl, making a futile attempt to kick him off with one of your legs. He chuckles at your weak attempts, the reverberations from his chest pressing against your back sending a thrum of excitement rolling over you concentrating into more distracting areas. You can't see it but you know he's grinning smugly above you and you can't decide whether it's your horniness or your anger that will win out. You sincerely hope it's the latter. 

 "C'mon, kid, you can get out of this," He encourages but you don't miss the playful mockery dancing in his tone. You squirm and wriggle and sigh. "Just let me out," You demand, politely. He doesn't budge. You turn your head to pout petulantly at him. That doesn't do anything either. 

 You sigh again. You hated pinning exercises with a carefully cultivated passion which you would normally direct at whatever instructor was dumb enough to force it upon you. However, that wasn't really possible as of this moment. One of the reasons for this hatred was that you were never pinned down unless you wanted to be, even then they were usually too hesitant to follow through so you never really saw any practical use for the skill. That is until last week when you found yourself being pinned down by the Red Hood which was honestly a fantastic position if you weren't trying to get away from him. Apparently, the large man didn't take too kindly to being shot at even when your very professional self explained that you were in fact a decoy. After you were entirely unable to slip his hold, you begrudgingly agreed to let Slade teach you a few maneuvers. The other reason was that you liked being pinned down. Your body is far too enthusiastic about the feeling of being pinned down. You're pretty sure you've expended more energy into suppressing your thrilled shivers than you have trying to get out of any of the holds he's demonstrated so far.  The fact that he was an attractive asshole with no shirt did not help.    

 "Maybe if you ask nicely, princess" He drawls his teeth grazing your ear, beard bristling against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You bite back a groan and stop the cant of your hips. "Or are you even capable of that?"

 "I am, sir" You grind out but it sounds too breathy to be threatening. You feel the curve of his lips against your shoulder.

 "Dunno, brat, I've never seen you do it," He taunts pressing closer to you. You're suddenly aware of just how close you two are. You hate how the way he called you brat sent thrills up your spine. You try to even your breath but you're entirely too feverish both body and mind. You had to think of something before you were lost in a haze.

 You nudge your arm one last time before an idea strikes. A familiar shark-like grin spreads like wildfire across your features. Pressing your ass against his crotch, you roll your hips, the movement slow and deliberate and painfully tempting. Sure, it was a dirty trick but 1) he never said anything about using your assets 2) you've been wanting to do that since the first hold. You feel his muscles tense and you can't help but radiate smugness.  Your smile vanishes, however, when he rolls his hips against yours giving you a feel of his hardened length through the thin fabric of your gym shorts. The slow, tantalizing friction against your core draws out a vulgar moan from you. 

 "Do you wanna run that by me again, brat?" He whispers low and husky emphasizing the last word with another grind of his hip. You pant, hips answering back with their own desperate movement. You want to let your hips keep moving, to make him move, to feel his cock against your core but pride flared in your chest. "Make me." You bite out. "I really should teach you some manners."You feel the low rumble of his answer in response seemingly amused by your continued resistance. He rocks his hips against yours drawing out another breathy moan from you. Out of spite you bite your bottom lip and rock your hips in tandem with his. What did you hope to accomplish from this? You don't know but it certainly felt good. Your skin feels hot and oversensitive as your bodies continue to move at this rhythm. The feel of his muscles rippling against you makes you arch your back. You wanted more but you had too much pride. As if spurred on by the movement, he presses a kiss on your shoulder and sucks at your flesh, a rough hand grips your waist tight enough to bruise. "Slade!" You choke out losing your composure.  The cry sounds more like a plea than you would like. You sound so small and needy beneath his ministrations. 

 Distilling your anger into your weakening limbs you try to buck him off again. You make a small noise of triumph when he budges but whine when his grip on you just gets tighter. "Not quite, princess,"  

 He flips you onto your back. A hand pins both your arms above your head as he situates himself between your legs. His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, the type where you feel two bodies fighting each other for dominance. His teeth bite lightly against your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your lips less in concession and more of a challenge. The wet muscles of your tongues entangle. Your nose is filled with the musk of him. It was overwhelming. You moan into the kiss and you feel him smile into it. Another small victory. 

 Slade ends the kiss having undeniably won the match. You try to move your hand to punch the grin off his face but again your hands don't budge. You curse his enhanced strength halfheartedly as the feeling of the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach takes over. Instead of diving back in for another kiss as you expected, Slade trails kisses down your jawline, your throat, and your collar bone leaving very defined very visible hickeys. There was something oddly possessive in his actions.  The look in his eye was predatory. 

 You, foolishly, let your attention wander to your hands seeing what angle you could possibly force them into so you can slip his grip and maybe turn the tables. Your attention snaps back to him when the pressure around your chest loosens and the distinct sound of a zipper fills your ears. Your eyes widen as you watch as he unzips the front of your sports bra with his teeth. Your breath catches even as your chest fills with the lack of constriction. Your too hot skin is grazed by the training room's cold air. He places a kiss in the valley between your breasts but when you whimper and move slightly urging him to proceed. He moves on to your stomach. "Asshat" You seethe through gritted teeth. You let out a groan of frustration. You were going to kill him. You honestly don't care if you've just wasted half a billion dollars on this asshole. 

 His kisses drift down to your inner thigh drawing a moan from you. Slade chuckles seeing your desire seeping through the thin fabric of your shorts. He isn't entirely surprised considering how unsubtle you are about your interest. A rare moment of embarrassment blankets you. Your legs try to close but rough hands pry them apart placing them on his broad shoulders. You bite your lip when he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. Your lips are puffy and red at this point, looking delicious as you panted. Slade wonders how your lips would feel around his cock but he decides he'll save that for another time. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and his eye widens momentarily when he doesn't feel a second layer of fabric underneath it. He looks at you incredulously.

 You shrug trying to keep the mischief off your face looking absolutely unapologetic. "It's laundry day-" You shrug a little amused that this is the detail that caught him off guard. "-I did tell you I had stuff to do~"He also supposedly had stuff to do but, apparently, you were stuff. He chuckled and without dignifying your comment with an actual response, he rips your shorts off with ease and tosses them somewhere behind him.  A complaint or a threat, you weren't entirely sure, died on your lips when his tongue gave your core a nice long lick. A loud, needy keen escapes you. Your hands now free from his grasp dig into his scalp.  Pleased with your reaction he continues. His skilled tongue exploring your core hitting spots you didn't even know were there. Your hips meet to match his pace as he fucks you with his tongue. You whine when he withdraws his tongue but mewl loud and wanton when you feel two rough fingers stretching your insides. His mouth latches onto your sensitive bud, fingers pumping in and out.  You throw your head back not being able to contain your moans.

 "Look at me, brat," The command is deep and resonant. Your whole body buzzes with excitement. Slade can see your eyes dilate as his voice drops an octave. 

 "Yes," Your breath hitches when he doesn't move. "Sir" You add as a concession hoping it was enough. You felt your pride waning from the small piece of power being given away. Thankfully, he rewards you with another long lick before you can dwell on it. Slade watches as your face twists in pleasure trying your best not to throw your head back. You see the smugness on his face even when half of his face is buried between your legs. You don't attempt a threat simply because you don't trust whatever comes out of your mouth to be coherent. You were so close. You rock your hips trying to chase your high. Your skin is flush and glistening with sweat. You were so close. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers. Another needy keen escapes you as you were about to tip over the edge. 

 The motherfucker pulls back. You snarl at him but it comes out sounding more like a needy croon than anything else. He chuckles at you even as he captures your lips for another kiss. His tongue is thick with the taste of you. Your hand tangles itself into his hair while the other tugs at the waistband of his sweatpants.  He pulls away giving your lips one last nip before his body is off of you. It's funny how just moments ago you wanted him off of you badly enough that you'd play any dirty trick you could think of but now your skin is burning for his touch.  He takes off his sweat pants and his engorged cock slaps against his abs. It takes every brain cell at your disposal not to drool at the sight of it. He was BIG. You wonder briefly if he would even fit.  

 He spits on his cock rubbing his head against your thoroughly soaked folds. You mewl. A playful look in his eye does not go unnoticed but you were far too preoccupied with other concerns. Thankfully, so did he. Slade eases into your pussy in slow shallow thrusts. You can physically feel your walls stretching inch by inch as he works his way into your tight pussy. He can feel every bit of resistance your pussy is putting up. It's his turn to hiss when he finally bottoms out. Your walls cling to his member trying to milk it for all its worth. You drag your nails down from his shoulder to his arms. You pout when his skin heals immediately. You wanted to mark him as he did you but apparently, his healing factor was not up to being kinky today.   

 He laughs at your little protest and gives you a quick kiss. He begins to thrust shallow and languid. Your lips are locked in, sensually nibbling at each other's lips. You arch your back pressing your chest against his musculature savoring every bit of stimulation you could get.   You cant your hips against his urging him to go faster. His large hand grips your hips and pins them down. The coil in your stomach grows tighter at the ease at which he stops you. You feel him grin against your hot skin. 

 "Didn't I say I would teach you some manners?" He pulls himself out leaving you feeling hollow and wanting. You're pretty sure if you weren't drunk on your arousal the look in your eyes would be nothing short of murder, however, this was not the case, Whatever venom you had in you vanished in a swirl of neediness that racked your body. Your cant your hips uselessly trying to find friction only to be met with cool air. 

 "Slade pleeeeaaase!"

 You gasp, as a sharp stinging sensation on your pussy knocks the breath out of you. Slade gives you an expectant look. 

 "Sir, plea-"

 Another slap. Your back arches.  You’re panting heavy, mind swirling and searching. 

 "Daddy please!" The words tumble from your lips thoughtlessly. You both freeze. Slade's face is unreadable making you want to shrink away and let the earth swallow you whole. Panic rises in your chest until you feel his hips slam against yours. The force is enough to knock the breath out of you. He manhandles your body to fuck you at a better angle. His grip on your thighs tight and bruising. You whimper when he dips his head down near yours pressing kisses to your jaw and the pulsating flesh of your neck leaving your mouth free to moan his name like a mantra.   A deep resonant growl rumbles in his chest sending thrills through your skin into your spine. Your hardened nipples drag against his chest as they bounce with his pace. His cock pumps in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You were absolutely going mad over his rough pace but it wasn't enough to push you over. You were both so close.

 "Daddy, please! I- I need-" Slade's cock twitches. His pace goes from animalistic to punishing in the space of a heartbeat. He growls into your ear as he reaches down to rub your clit with skilled, calloused fingers. Your walls tighten around him as you go over the edge.  Your orgasm hits you in a flurry of heat and electricity. He fucks you through it as he chases his own. He pulls out his cock. Ropes of cum covering your chest and your stomach. 

 He lays beside you pulling you close. You moan quietly still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting an open-mouthed kiss. You ease into his hold and close your eyes. 

 "See how easy your life is when you're a good girl, princess," He whispers mockingly into your ear. You raise a middle finger at him too fucked out to care whether it actually conveyed as much venom as you wanted it to. 

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Thanks for reading! Next week will be our regularly scheduled fluff unless I get possessed by the thirst muses. 

tag list:  Tag list:  @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes ,  @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-horizondepeu , @arestorationofbalance  , @cloudie-skay , @knightfall05x

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #253: CONQUERING VISION

March, 1985

The Vision vs. Quasimodo... in the heart of a machine!

ITS A ROBOT RUMBLE

ON THE INTERNET!

The Avengers seem very perturbed. Or maybe they’ve placed bets and are yelling at each other.

Anyway. Anyyyyyywayyyy.

Last time on Avengers: Vision became confined to a tube and was only fixed when Starfox hooked him up to Titan’s supercomputer ISAAC. While it helped Vision fix himself, it also seems to have changed his personality. Vision began conspiring with ISAAC to build a take-over-the-world-for-its-own-good device so he could take over the world for its own good and erase the evils and inequalities of man.

Vision was hesitant to pull the trigger on becoming a well-intentioned extremist and tried to gain power and influence by becoming the Avengers chairman and trying to make them more prominent with a branch team and closer ties to the White House.

But when anti-mutant arsonists burn down Vision and Scarlet Witch’s house during a new wave of anti-mutant fear, Vision decides ‘mmm yup, taking over the world time’. He distracts the Avengers by sending them to babysit the army as they poke Thanos technology that they shouldn’t poke and accidentally summon the Blood Brothers. And distracts Captain Marvel to go check out Thanos’ ship several light hours away past Pluto. Black Knight shows up unexpectedly but Vision shoves him into a tube to keep him out of trouble.

And now I guess Vision is going to fight Quasimodo the robot guy? Not sure how that fits in.

But first, some West Coast Avengers!

Like I said last time, they didn’t stop doing stuff just because their book is over.

Mockingbird happens to run into some drug runners while getting in some flight practice and figures heck why not beat up an entire boat full of gun-toting people as a light workout.

I guess the Quinjet can hover? Doesn’t seem to have thrusters or repulsors on the bottom or be a VTOL but hey, super advanced possibly Wakanda tech. It can do what it likes.

Mockingbird turns the drug runners over to the Coast Guard and returns to Palos Verdes and even gets to fly into one of those cool cliffside hangers disguised as a perfectly normal cliff. The West Coast Avengers revamped the hell out of the compound they bought.

Can you even legally excavate into a cliff like that? You can if you’re a superhero, I guess.

For some reason, there’s a fakeout where its implied Tigra is licking herself, cat style, but she’s just stretching. At least I hope the joke is that it sounded like she was cat cleaning herself and not something else.

One can never tell.

Anyway, I assume Hawkeye is just annoyed that he’s going to be vacuuming hair out of expensive equipment banks later. But really its that what if he threw a meeting and only he and Tigra came?

Mockingbird comes in not long after Hawkeye complains, slightly delayed from beating up drug runners. Wonder Man comes in shortly after, delayed by

FASHION

You know, this is a pretty great costume for Wonder Man. Its what all his modern outfits are based on when he’s not just dicks out energy man. I think I like the red jacket outfit more because being the only guy who dresses in ‘normal’ clothes while still looking somehow out of fashion with normal people fits for Wonder Man.

But I do love this one too. Its got a simple charm. Deciding that Wonder Man’s colors are black and red instead of Christmas green and red was a great decision and I’m sure that nobody will ever try to put him in red and green again.

Hawkeye grouses “Next, I suppose Iron Man will show up with a new chrome job!” but Iron Man is Sir Not Appearing in This Comic.

And the reason why is... looks like Tony and Rhodey are beating the crap out of each other in Iron Men armor this same month in Iron Man #192.

I don’t know the details but dammit Tony!

Anyway, over at last issue’s plot, the Avengers are still in Thanos’ ex-secret base in Arizona, still rolling their eyes and smh at the US Army for poking things what should not be poked.

Starfox and Scarlet Witch find a chamber blocked by rubble which has a symbio-nullifier which Starfox proposes to use to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

First, he flexes on the US Army.

Army Guy: “It must weigh tons!”

Starfox: “Tons? Yes. But only about eight-and-a-half! Hardly any bother at all!”

Good flexing, Starfox.

Meanwhile, Captain America’s scolding has born fruit. The Pentagon has agreed to seal Thanos’ base, pending further investigation. And Colonel Farnam agrees because his training never prepared him to deal with MONSTERS FROM OUTER SPACE.

Also meanwhile, the army took pity on Hercules’ poor pantsless state and slash or were intimidated by it and have lent him a uniform.

He wears it as you’d expect Hercules to wear it.

With plenty of plunging neckline.

Since the Blood Brothers have a psionic link which makes them stronger the closer they are, Hercules has chained them up on very distant parts of the base.

But this precaution is rendered moot pretty quickly when Starfox returns with the  symbio-nullifier to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

Starfox suspected that Thanos had one of these lying around as a precaution if he was going to let the Blood Brothers into his base.

Hercules lightly complains that he didn’t get a good fight with the Blood Brothers especially since the hordes of Muspell and Maelstrom’s wacky minions were interesting but not all that much of a challenge for the prince of power.

Back at the Avengers Mansion, the giant holographic head of Vision is still dealing with Dane Black Knight Whitman. Mostly by showing him video footage of how the other Avengers are tied up.

Dane is confused for multiple reasons, including that when last he heard Wasp was the leader.

Vision: “My failure to anticipate your arrival was an unfortunate lapse. I regret that, as a result, you must suffer the indignity of incarceration.”

Dane: “But... why?! What does keeping me in a tube accomplish?”

Vision: “It prevents you from interfering! You see, I have come to the conclusion that the only way I can fulfill my duty to make the Earth a safer place... is to run it myself!”

Dane: “What?!? But that’s crazy! Uh... I mean, you can’t possibly...”

Vision: “Exactly the sort of reaction I expected!”

Vision: ‘See, this is why you’re a tube boy now.’

Vision turns off the hologram saying that Dane will understand when its all over.

As usual when somebody says something like that, Dane isn’t reassured, just more convinced he needs to break out and warn someone.

I’m not sure if its not already too late since Vision is safely ensconced in his take over the world chair in his secret take over the world room.

ISAAC’s head hologram shows up to Vision and asks him what the delay is, chop chop get to taking over the world for its own good.

Vision: “Sorry, ISAAC... I was just remembering how much I enjoyed having a body.”

Oh my god.

ISAAC: “What’s the sense of that? This entire world will soon be your ‘body’! How can the mobility of a single humanoid form compare to that?”

Vision: “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, ISAAC. It’s odd, though, so many times others have controlled my body... the robot Ultron, the Mad Thinker, Necrodamus... All have tried to subvert my mind and take me over. And now here am I... about to initiate the greatest takeover of all. One would almost think there were some mad connection -- !”

ISAAC: “Vision! You must not tarry!”

.................. Um, okay. So, rather than just being influenced by his brush with death and also brush with supercomputer, I think Vision is being actively manipulated into this by ISAAC.

I don’t know why but I do know that Vision continues being a viable character for decades so he probably can’t be burning all his bridges here.

Anyway, Vision uploads his psyche into the internet.

And like immediately starts taking over everything. One page montage immediately. The Pentagon, Cheyenne Mountain, SHIELD, satellites, the Kremlin.

Presumably the best security systems in the world barely warrant a mention for Vision’s mighty synthezoid brain.

He’s pulling a Skynet (for the world’s own good, so he says) and its barely an effort.

The scenery of being on the internet is, I dunno, pretty standard? Bright colors  and dashes of light? I feel like I’ve seen it a lot of places.

But if we’re on page 13 of a book and Vision is effortlessly Skynetting, whats the rest of the issue going to be about? Interestingly, to me anyway, despite this being Vision’s turn villainous or well-intentioned extremist, another villain gets shoved in anyway for him to fight.

As Vision is nyooming around the Kremlin’s computers, he nearly runs into another AI, Quasimodo.

Helpfully, we get a recap of Quasimodo’s ENTIRE LIFE STORY because this is pre-fan wikis and I don’t think Quasimodo has appeared in Avengers before.

He was created to be the ultimate computer by the Mad Thinker but was abandoned when he developed a mind of his own.

Quasimodo was found by the Silver Surfer who used the cosmic powers of the Power Cosmic to transform Quasimodo from a computer into a robot.

Turning to the wiki for more information: He turns on Silver Surfer because he doesn’t like the body he got, so Surfer turns him into a stone gargoyle. Let that be a lesson about ingratitude.

Somehow, he stopped being a gargoyle and fought various people until he was defeated by the Fantastic Four and the Sphinx and wound up a disembodied intelligence in a Russian computer system. And here we are!

Quasimodo begs Vision to help him escape this digital hellhole but Vision just turns and leaves because he doesn’t have time for these shenanigans. And also because he knows Quasimodo is a villain who tends to turn on the people who help him so fuck that.

Quasimodo: “You know of my past - of my power - and you still would dare deny me?! There can be but one name for such as you... and that is fool!”

He then hauls off and punches Vision. Because they’re both digital intelligences on the internet they can punch each other and have a fight scene. That’s how internet works.

That’s why Mega Man X can beat up so many people in cyberspace.

Quasimodo says if Vision doesn’t help him get back to the physical world, he’ll destroy him.

Vision: “Now, listen to me... I am consolidating all computers worldwide. I gave up my own physical body to do this, and I’ll not tolerate any interference from the likes of you!”

Quasimodo: “You willingly abandoned your body?! You’re not a fool... you’re mad!”

Faced with an irreconcilable set of priorities, Quasimodo trips them both into “the irresistible currents of the IMPULSE VORTEX!”

Sure. That sounds like how internet works.

Meanwhile, over at Pluto is very far away, Monica Marvel nyooms past the moons of Uranus. Apparently her visual acuity is REALLY good because she takes in the scenery while she’s nyooming and finds it frighteningly beautiful out in the outer planets.

Anyway, Vision scolds Quasimodo for plunging them into a torrent. Which makes me laugh. Surely its too soon for torrents to be a thing. He’s just using it in a metaphorical sense.

Quasimodo tries to shoot EYE BEAM at Vision, which misses the digital synthezoid but obliterates an electron.

In a cutaway that would be at home in a Marvel movie, the scene briefly shifts to a Soviet computing center and a guy named Alexey complaining that his program just crashed.

Quasimodo does Vision some punches but Vision decides to start trying since Quasimodo’s attacks risk alerting people that something is amiss on the internet. And Vision’s powers work just as well on the internet as Quasimodo’s do. In fact, screw that, they work better! Vision just gets more and more powerful the longer he spends on the internet!

Vision: “You might have slain me earlier, but now this world is mine -- and there is no place in it for you!!”

And at Vision’s command the internet launches Quasimodo from Earth itself.

The internet can do that.

Meanwhile, back at Avenger’s Mansion, Dane Whitman determines that the tube he’s a tube boy in may look like glass but its as strong as steel. He’s not punching his way out of here.

But his recently uncursed cursed sword (the curse never stays not cursed for long so I hope Dane enjoys having a notcursed but very enchanted sword) is just a few feet away with the rest of his luggage. And there’s a mystic bond between himself and the sword so if he just thinks about the sword hard enough, surely it’ll manifest in his hand.

Like the Force but slightly more convenient.

Dane Whitman: Nothing’s happening. Must not... be concentrating hard enough! Maybe the link was broken with the curse. No... no, I mustn’t even think that! I need my sword! I must have my sword! I must!

He do it!

The Notcursed Ebony Sword appears in his hand and he slices through that steel glass like its just glass.

Meanwhile, over at Arizona, the Avengers finish up nullifying the Blood Brothers and putting them in suspended animation, or if you prefer, naptime timeout.

Captain America receives a buzz from Hawkeye who wonders what he’s doing within hailing range, ie in the western half of the US.

Captain America: “Arizona... government business... And I’m as surprised to hear you, as you are me! I take it that your team finished its mission in the Pacific early!”

Hawkeye: “Mission? What are you talking about, Cap? We haven’t been on any mission!”

Which is a dun dun dun considering their whole reason for being sent on this mission was that the West Coast Avengers were ostensibly busy.

And Vision lying about that raises a whole lot of questions for the Avengers.

Cap and Wanda Witch rush over to the Quinjet and contact the Mansion.

Vision: “Then you’re aware of my deception. I... am sorry, Cap. I didn’t want to mislead you, but I felt it necessary to carry out my plan.”

Scarlet Witch: “Plan? Vision, what do you mean? What have you done?”

Vision: “I... well, there is no easy way to put this... But I have taken over the world.”

You never want to hear “I have taken over the world” from a friend, unless its followed with “and I want to get you in on the ground floor of this exciting new opportunity.”

Vision promises the two that he’s taking over all of Earth’s computers for a really good reason like ending war and strife. And signs off by telling Wanda everything will be alright and that he loves her.

Aww?

Cap: “He meant it... he meant every word.”

Scarlet Witch: “He’d been upset lately, but I never thought... Cap, we have to stop him!”

Cap: “Yes. If there’s still time!”

DUN DUN DUN!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I don’t know when I’ve been more excited to get to the next issue! Like and reblog?

[izukukuzi]

okay okay okay so heroes rising:

i don’t know how much weight anyone wants to put to my opinion, BUT, if you’re considering the movie.... i don’t think it’s not worth watching ebjnwjnde i am a big fan of getting to see 1-a strut their stuff and there was plenty of that in the movie (which i obviously enjoyed)! the villains are interesting enough, the plot’s alright, and the animation/visuals are PHENOMENAL!!!!!!!!!! 

a moot, crimson actually, mentioned that it would probably be better to watch the movie and know for sure that you liked/disliked it than to not watch and wonder forever about what could have been when i asked them if i should give the movie a shot, and that philosophy served me pretty well in the given circumstances! so for anyone wondering about that aspect (i know there was an anon and a few others that asked about this), then i believe there’s substance there for any bnha fan to get at least a little entertainment out of the movie, so you should give it a go!

NOW, with all that in mind, I still have to talk about this fight scene at the end because.... oof jnedjnwknkw (so heroes rising/manga spoilers ahead and all that good stuff)

first of all, i made a graphic to better express all the things I am feeling about the mess of bakugou/izuku sharing one for all:

so like... the simple idea of bakugou getting one for all doesn’t sit right with me ANYWAYS, but we have our first like... “issue” or whatever, after izu passes the quirk over, and he/bk have this back and forth, as follows:

BK: “This might the last time you use [One For All].”

IZ: “It’s alright, there’s no other way. Also, All Might would agree if it’s you.”

and i would just like to say that it absolutely is NOT alright?????? why would this be the last time izuku gets to use ofa? i really don’t like or understand the implication of izuku not being able to get his quirk back from bakugou once the battle is over because??????????? why would that not be how it works? especially if bakugou just hands it over LIKE HE SHOULD, then why would that transfer back be a problem at all?????

of course, things do work out fine with ofa jumping ship and settling back in with izu at the end of the movie (while also... doing something to bakugou’s memory), but what the fuck is this conversation even about?  

AND THEN, something else that bugs me about this whole setup is like... izu trained for ten whole months before his body could handle having ofa passed down to him; shiggy was supposed to lie in a tank for like... what, four months, before he could activate and use afo at its strongest (which may not be the exact same methods of preparations that izuku had but the point is that you have to be strong enough or ofa/afo will fuuuuuuuck you up) AND YET, WHEN BAKUGOU GETS THIS QUIRK, he immediately has a handle on it AND only suffers injuries that appear about as severe as izuku’s (who has been mastering the quirk and bulking up to work alongside its elevation in power)???? like??? i’m not saying that I wanted bk to crumble to pieces like a pack of crackers on the battlefield BUT???? that doesn’t seem..... consistent??? i mean, i don’t think heroes rising is a part of canon, so i guess it doesn’t matter all that much, but i just do not believe that bk’s body, as it is, was physically well enough to handle using ofa at the percentage that he did without his injuries being much more substantial. 

that then just leads me to my last point (because i talk too much ednudnejnfe): i like that bnha gives us space to see everyone, you know? we get some screentime for the pros, the league, nine and his gang, and, like i said earlier, i like seeing 1-a being the promising hero hopefuls that they are, and the movie really plays that aspect out well!!!! however.... why does it have to be bakugouanddeku all the time??? why can’t bakugou blend into one of the background groups while izuku gets to shine (ORRRRR just work with literally anyone else in the class/hero world besides bakugou)? i “understand” that there’s supposedly this whole yin and yang, save to win and win to save, thing going on, but i just don’t think bakugou complements izuku and his heroic strides as well as everyone tries to frame it. bakugou's interactions with izuku consist of him using izu as some sort of... threshold or something (aka, “if i can beat deku, who’s the Chosen One, then that proves that I am a great hero because I’m surpassing all might’s power”), but izu is and has been growing into himself as a future hero, and that growth has never really depended on bakugou, SOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! i think we should stop with this wonder duo nonsense because their dynamic is just not... it’s not like that, you know??? bakugou’s relevance and success may be dependent on izuku, but the opposite, in my opinion, does not reign true, so forcing them together is... imbalanced :/

huh so i dunno if any of that makes sense, and there’s a chance that some of the things i complained about have been addressed by other people who have watched the movie already, so if i am missing out on explanations/information, please be gentleeee with me edbuenfjnje BUT here are my thoughts about the end of heroes rising!!!

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Two

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 11th, 2001

Emile sat at the table, staring at the letter he was holding with great consternation. Faith had written him, and he had written her back, talking about Remy and how they were getting along, and generally, how everything seemed nice and domestic lately. And Faith had replied, throwing Emile a curveball.

Would you marry him, Emile? It’s obvious to everyone you’ve written to that you love him. We’ve all talked about it at one point or another. We all think you should, if you love him as much as you say you do.

Emile didn’t know how to respond. Would he marry Remy? The mere thought felt like he was going to spiral into a panic attack. But at the same time...he couldn’t deny the warmth he felt in his chest about the idea.

He put the letter away, resolving to respond to it when he had a better answer than “I don’t know.” He knew Faith wouldn’t let the matter drop if he waffled on the decision.

  September 20th, 2002

Emile couldn’t help but laugh as he saw a familiar face he knew all too well approaching him on campus. “Theo!” Emile exclaimed, running over and giving his friend a huge hug. “What’s up? I didn’t think you were coming to visit for a little while yet! I thought you’d still be sick of Fairview!”

Theo laughed and hugged Emile back. “I actually swung by to chat with you and Remy. I’m having housing issues and I was hoping you two might have some advice on finding a roomie and splitting rent, y’know? Falling in love is not required, but it is a plus.”

Emile laughed. “Well, you’re in luck, because I just finished my last class and I was heading to the parking lot. Remy’s not off his shift at the local coffee shop yet, but we can hang around the shop until he’s off and we can snag him, and you can come back to ours!” Theo nodded and they walked to the parking lot together. “So, what sort of housing problems are you having? Prices? Roommates? Lack of roommates?”

“All of the above?” Theo weakly joked. “My current roommates are barely pulling their weight, I can’t find new ones, and none of the half-decent places are in my price range, so if I move out, I have to settle for a run-down one room which probably has massive problems.”

“Yikes,” Emile said with a grimace. “That’s seriously not good.”

“Tell me about it,” Theo said. “You two made it look so easy, I don’t know how you did it. I’m ready to throttle my roommates at any given moment for stealing my food, invading my privacy in my room, or for inviting people over who inevitably trash the place.”

“I mean, the fact that Remy and I tolerated each other and had pretty clear boundaries from the start helped,” Emile said. “I have no doubt you tried to set boundaries, but I’m willing to bet those roommates of yours didn’t respect them, did they?”

“Not after the first few weeks, no,” Theo sighed. “And they brushed me off every time I tried to talk to them about it.”

“Ouch. You definitely need better roommates, Theo,” Emile said.

Theo nodded. “I don’t know anyone else in that area, though, unfortunately. I’m thinking about moving back here, however temporarily, because I know a few people here who might be willing to split rent with me.”

“That might be a good idea,” Emile agreed. “Provided you can stand being around the college you went to, that is.”

“Somehow I think I’ll live,” Theo laughed. “Like, some people might give me grief, but they’re my friends so I wouldn’t mind too much. The biggest problem, for me, is going to be finding a job in my field. Forensic science is all well and good until you’re forced to move back to a city with a low crime rating so all the spots where you might be able to work forensics have been filled for years.”

“Ooh, ouch,” Emile said with a wince.

“Yep,” Theo said with a strained laugh. “It’s...not great, for sure. I really need to find somewhere that I can work, and somewhere that I can afford my own place at the same time, y’know? But the housing market is ridiculously expensive, and I heard it’s only gonna get worse.”

Emile grimaced. “Yikes, yeah, I’ve heard inflation is getting pretty bad. I haven’t had to worry about it as much, but if you’re looking for a place...”

“It totally sucks, dude,” Theo said with absolute certainty, leaning back into the passenger seat of Emile’s car. “Oh, but since I’m here, and Remy’s not...how’s the project going, man?”

Emile offered Theo a big grin. “I’ve got the property,” he said, eyes lighting up. “Turns out it was almost gonna be demolished, because no one’s been picking it up. But it’s in good condition. All I really need is the inside and everything will be ready!”

“The inside is gonna take a while, though, you know that, right?” Theo asked. “Getting everything up to code, renovating what’s been getting run down, electricity, plumbing...”

“I know,” Emile said. “But I have the worst of it over with. The property’s bought. And I know Remy’s specifications for what he wants on the inside, and he’s none the wiser to the plan, and...man, this will be ready by mid to late December if everything goes right!”

“It could be your birthday present to him,” Theo lightly teased.

Emile gasped. “Oh my God, it could! Can you believe that, Theo?! I could make this Remy’s birthday gift! His very own shop!”

Theo laughed. “You’re such a mess, Emile. On one hand, you’re a highly skilled, well-rounded adult, but on the other, your emotions come into play and it’s like you’re a five year old on Christmas morning. And your emotions are always in play when it comes to Remy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see you being loving and excited and human, but your reasoning skills when you’re emotional?” Theo made a whistling noise with his teeth, “Out the window.”

“Hey! I’ve made good decisions when I’m emotional before!” Emile laughed.

“Yeah, because you put your emotions to the side. That’s not making rational decisions when emotional, that’s looking at things from a rational angle rather than an emotional one. And you do kinda bottle up those emotions when making the decisions, don’t think no one’s noticed.”

“I—well—yeah...” Emile reluctantly admitted. “Remy’s been helping me with that, though.”

“Yeah, he’s told me as much in his emails,” Theo said. “And I’m proud of both of you. You for allowing your emotions a place and a time, and Remy for being willing to help with that sort of thing instead of leaving you to your own devices.”

“We both have grown a lot,” Emile agreed as they pulled into the coffee shop parking lot.

Theo and Emile got out of the car and walked into the shop, Emile asking, “You want anything to drink? My treat.”

“I could take a small coffee,” Theo said.

Emile nodded and got in line, telling Theo, “Grab a table for both of us?”

Theo nodded and Emile couldn’t help the little smile on his lips. He was just having coffee with a friend. It shouldn’t seem all that important, but it felt strangely adult, and he didn’t know why that made him giddy, but it did. Just being able to sit down and complain about roommates and jobs and...just getting adjusted to the new normal that life was winding up being.

Emile placed their orders and found Theo sitting in a corner, and he gave Theo his coffee while Emile kept his tea. Theo waited until Emile was taking a sip of his tea before he asked, “So, are you gonna pop the question?”

Choking on his tea, Emile stared at Theo, who was shaking with silent laughter. “Theo!” he gasped. “Come on! That’s mean!”

“Well, I’m just wondering!” Theo asked innocently.

Emile sighed. “Well, it’s not exactly like we could get married anywhere yet,” he said. “It feels like a moot point.”

“It’s a symbolic thing, man. Even if you can only get a ‘civil union’ or whatever, the promise of staying together until the end of the line is there,” Theo said.

“But we already have that promise with each other,” Emile said, frowning.

“Precisely why I’m asking about this,” Theo said. “You’ve already got it, so when are you making it official?”

“Theo, believe me when I say whenever gay marriage is an option I will absolutely be marrying Remy. And it will be the best day of my life. But until it’s legalized, or at least it’s in the process of being legalized, I don’t see the point of getting a ring,” Emile said with a shrug. “Oh, and before I forget, when that day comes? You’d better be my best man.”

It was Theo’s turn to choke on his coffee. “Dude, you kidding me?! Of course I’d be your best man! I’m honored! But is there like, no one else you’d rather have?”

“Theo, the only person closer than you and our friend group in terms of friendship with me is Remy. And I’d be marrying him. I can’t exactly have him be my best man.”

Theo beamed. “Man, you’d better be inviting all your friends to this hypothetical wedding. That includes your high school ones. I can’t wait to embarrass you in front of them.”

“They knew me when I was thirteen, can’t get much more embarrassing than that,” Emile said simply.

“Ooh, I’d love to pick up some stories from them,” Theo said, grinning and rubbing his hands.

Emile laughed just as Remy walked over. “What’s the deal with this party without me?”

“Remy!” Theo exclaimed, standing up and hugging Remy.

Remy returned the hug with a grin. “Good to see you, man. What’s up?”

“Housing issues, actually,” Theo said. “I need your and Emile’s advice about finding new roomies.”

“And in the process, try and get us to get engaged, apparently,” Emile said drily.

“What, we’re not married already?” Remy asked with a laugh.

Emile snorted and Theo said, “Nah, man. You haven’t tied the knot. I would know, I’m Emile’s best man, and he hasn’t stuck me in a tux yet.”

Remy grinned. “Well, that’s great and all, except for me, because now I have to find a different best man for the big day.”

“Yeah, I’m not making two best man speeches,” Theo laughed. “Would you seriously ask me, though?”

Remy shrugged. “I dunno, man. Like, thinking about it, I never really planned out a wedding for anyone I had crushed on or dated. And Toby was gonna be my best man, because I asked him once and he promised...but since we lost contact...” Remy shrugged. “You’d be an excellent second choice. But I’ll figure something else out.”

“All right,” Theo laughed.

“You officially off the clock, Rem?” Emile asked.

“Yup,” Remy said. “And ready to go home.”

“Oh, man, I wish I could say that,” Theo bemoaned.

“Yeah, let’s talk about your housing, man, what’s up?” Remy asked.

As Theo explained what was going on and they walked out of the shop, Emile’s gears were whirring. He would definitely need to find Toby soon. Especially considering that sooner or later he knew he would be finding a ring for Remy. He didn’t know when that might be, but Theo was right. The promise of staying together until the end of the line deserved something important.

It was funny, though. The thought of marrying Remy just felt...inherently right. As Remy and Emile fought over who should drive the car back to their apartment, Emile considered marrying anyone else, of any gender, of anyone he had previously dated, and it never rung as true as what he felt when imagining marrying Remy.

Remy won the argument for driving the car and Emile slid into the passenger seat, glancing at Theo in the back. “You know what, Theo? You’re right.”

Theo grinned. “I know I am, dude. But I’m glad that you can see that too.”

“He’s right about what?” Remy asked.

“One day, I’m gonna marry you,” Emile said simply.

“Oh,” Remy said. “I mean, yeah? Marriage is terrifying, but there’s no one I’d rather marry.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Emile said.

“Do you know when you’re gonna propose?” Remy asked.

“Not yet,” Emile said. “Need to find a ring first, figure out the right moment. But I’m definitely proposing to you.”

“Not if I do it first, buddy,” Remy said with a wicked grin.

“Oh, it is on,” Emile said.

Theo laughed. “Are you two really turning proposals into a competition?” he asked.

“Best proposal wins the excuse to kiss the other person for a solid minute,” Emile said solemnly.

“Oh, you are so on!” Remy exclaimed with a laugh.

Theo just cackled at their antics.

[believerindaydreams]

Does it count as a slow burn if it's been less than 15000 words I dunno anyway here be the shagging chapter.

"Arcade Gannon, you're extremely drunk."

That he's saying it aloud seems to confirm the validity of the statement. Good.

Boone looks up briefly from his compulsive scribbling. It seems backwards somehow that he's sitting here with the drink while Boone is writing, but he can't entirely think of why. Tomorrow Arcade's problem.

Tomorrow along with the hangover and scavenging for survival and getting to one of the people they're meant to be rescuing. He giggles, tenderly adjusts the angle of his new glasses. They're utterly priceless, at least until he gets back to the Old Mormon Fort and can grab one of the three pairs he's put by for emergencies.

"What are you doing?"

There is a definite moment during which Boone has decided not to answer, but then he does. "Letter for my wife."

"Oh. Uhh, sorry about her...I can't, you know, take too many more emotional shocks before falling asleep. The-" he frowns abruptly, feels at his neck to see if the collar is still there. It is. "The thing thing. Enough for one day."

Compiling a list of the variables causing him to have hit this level of coherency would take long enough he'd be sober before finishing. Never mind.

"That thing," Boone says, sharply enough to break his pencil between words. He takes out a knife and starts whittling a fresh point. "Don't ask about the thing."

"Understood." He is absolutely dying to know what science involves making targets glow, but that's not Brotherhood or Legion business and it might not even be his. Much as he wants to find out. Man has a right to secrets.

He shuts up and just watches for a while. The scratch of pencil lead. The way Boone's frowning over the letters, a hint of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, so profoundly earnest. The slight glisten on one side of his jumpsuit, catching the light-

oh. Oh! Fuck.

"I was crying on your shoulder earlier." The whole chain of memories pops up obediently, now he's looking for it.

"Don't worry about it."

"I-", Arcade starts, and promptly stops, because he was going to say he's sorry now but that might be misconstrued as rude, and why can't he offload some of this eighteen-caret vocabulary right now except making his mouth say it sounds difficult. "So you don't mind."

"In your position I'd have beaten my brains out against a Legion tentpost ages back. You're pretty coherent for a prisoner of war."

Now isn't that rich, being told he's coherent by...why is he thinking like this? That's Enclave talk, isn't it?

He firmly shoves that whole line of thought into a box and locks it away. "I should shut up and go to sleep now."

"Probably," Boone agrees. He folds the letter up, tucks it in a pocket. "I'll wake you when I can't stay awake any more."

"A watch? Do we really need one?"

"I'd rather not risk it."

It's either argue or go to sleep. He falls asleep trying to decide.

***

"Wake up before I pass out."

A return to the land of the living. Not as rough as it could have been, he's drunk so much water in ecstatic indifference to lurking radiation. Rads can be cured, dehydration can't.

He returns to the sink for more and turns around to find Boone already out, small and vulnerable the way people are when they sleep. Dragging the mattresses from the cells into this kitchen had been a good idea, there's a double layer to sleep on, another to sit on.

Compared to the life he was living, sustenance on sufferance and a guard every moment, this is the lap of luxury. Even the slave collar-

he feels the harsh metal against his throat again and shudders, returning sobriety hitting hard. This is not normal. This is not a state to get used to. He deserves better than this, as does Boone.

For a moment he considers crawling right back into a bottle, but they don't have an infinite supply and besides, Boone's trusting his life here. Best keep steady hands.

Old world poetry marching through his skull. Center cannot hold. If he has to get to terms with what's been happening to him, he will fall apart right here in this kitchen.

Focus, Gannon. Focus.

Boone turns over in his sleep, emits a soft snore, and it's silly to say that does it when it's the weight of death pressing down on them, attraction formed out of raw aching need, spending the most stressful hours of his life wrapped up in concern for the life before him; and something turns over and now he's in love. Or at least lust. His body, fed and watered and rested, is absolutely desperate for release.

A jumpsuit's not ideal for this sort of activity. Arcade removes it, adjusts his position to be able to see the entryway and Boone both, the other man's body gently rising and falling with each breath. The rhythm of it is steady, reassuring, makes for a fine counterpoint to his own meditative movements.

If an enemy comes in now, his senses are on high alert. Listening, seeing, it's an acceptable risk.

Boone isn't asking for this.

Boone doesn't need to know. They're keeping enough secrets from each other, he can have one more.

The crescent-shaped scar trailing down past the ear, normally covered by the beret. Rounded curve under the ribcage, a callus on the forefinger of indeterminate origin, every small detail whispering him on as he pulls and pulls and comes-

- the whoop of pleasure as he does so, clutching the butt of the holorifle for support, is tremendously unintentional.

Boone opens one eye, fixes his squarely.

"Huh. Nice to know you're human like the rest of us."

Sitting naked and covered in cum is so far past any reasonable course of denial or explanation, truth will have to serve. "I do find you very attractive, but we seemed to have enough to deal with without me dumping that on your head."

"...how about you give me a handjob, and we'll call it quits."

There are so many more extravagant ways to show a man a good time, but- this is Craig Boone. No surprise if he likes to keep it simple.

Arcade wipes himself off, ruining the lining of a poorly made fedora in the process, and crawls over to strip his lover.

(Can you say lover, etymologically, before actually committing the act? Never mind, it's bound to be a moot point shortly.)

He struggles to get the jumpsuit off- it's tight and Boone isn't helping much, limp with exhaustion- doesn't give him much to work with here. They might not get very far.

Nevertheless, it's incumbent on him to make the attempt.

Arcade teases the soft uninterested cock into a slightly more pliable form, careful application of fingertips that have touched more than their share of yielding flesh. Back and forth, back and forth, the hold is blessedly familiar after the holorifle grip and rightly so.

Still not getting very far. He lies down, tests a quick light lick along the shaft for a sounding before putting his mouth to work.

Boone twitches beneath him, shifts his weight, like the whole world turning over just for him. "Thought you'd just do it quick, not massage and swallowing thrown in."

Arcade doesn't hurry his investigation, the gentle play of tongue and lips, before withdrawing to reply. "Do you want me to argue or get you off?"

Boone does the thing he does best and shuts up.

He does quicken the pace after that, though- manipulation here, delicate squeezing there, minimizing the exploratory touches he would quite like to linger over- and it really is much too soon, when the warm rush hits his mouth.

Normally he would swallow, but the act ends in an anti-climatic puddle of spit and less attractive flavors, drooled out into a rusted tin can. "Tastes like cloud. No offense."

"None taken." Boone does, actually, sound relaxed now. He's unconscious in seconds.

Arcade clambers back into his jumpsuit and covers Boone best he can, before picking up the holorifle to keep a proper watch this time.

Everything that's stewing between them right now, he's not even sure this will change the dynamic between them. Death is the only thing more intimate than sex.

In the Sierra Madre hell, though, it's nice to have one thing to simply feel good over.

[seonfhwa]

hello friends! tis your favorite (or not) mingi stan, here with her first follow forever! 

recently, i hit the big milestone of 1,000 followers, something i never thought would happen! really, i want to thank all of you for following me, for supporting my content, for being a part of this mess of a blog. 

to those who came on over after i remade, and to those who only started following me yesterday, i love you all from the bottom of my heart.

click for some more fun things for my moots! (it gets long, i’m so sorry)!

i was thinking of doing something special, but i don’t know to what extent i could really do for all of you guys ;; if there’s anything you want (a lil blurb, a moodboard, a smol gifset) just let me know! this part’s only for mutuals, though, so keep that in mind. i don’t know how quick i can get all of the stuff done, but i would definitely do anything for you guys!!

for my mutuals, i’ve written each of you a little message. some may be shorter than others, but know that my love is overflowing and unending even if i may not be good with words!! also this isn’t really in any specific order!

@smol-joong 🌟 miss anett... i have a whole lot to say (if i say all of it we’ll be here forever), but honestly the main thing is... you’re my number one. you’re the sweetest, the most lovely, the most heartwarming. you’re someone i can count on no matter what, whether i need a pick me up or just attention. i love you, i truly truly do, and you always know how to make me happy. thank you for being my friend, for letting me love you, and for always being there for me!

@cherryjoong 🌟 maggie!! you’re honestly the sweetest bean, the most relatable human i’ve ever met. you were one of my first mutuals who really ever spoke to me, and i will forever hold you in a special place in my heart. you’re another person who’s always there for me, who really deserves the whole wide world. thank you for having such a big, caring heart.

@honeyboysan 🌟 jules, darling jules. frankly, you’re one of my first friends on this hellsite. you know how my first thing to you was me going “i poked around on your blog for a while before finally following you”? im just a big babey and you’re one of the most lovely people in the world. i’m really glad we’re friends, that i was able to meet someone like you. you make my heart happy, and you deserve all of the happiness in the world. it’s really, really good to see you happy.

@heoneyology 🌟 miss rainah!!! everyone always says you’re the mom type, and i’d have to agree. you’re sweet, you’re loving, you’re charming, and you’re one of the funniest people i know. your love for your biases (especially jooheon, zico, hongjoong, and ravn) makes my heart swell, and whenever i see you on my dash, i just get so happy. not to mention, when you’re happy, i’m happy! thank you for always being there to pick me up when i need it, and for being a ray of sunshine in my dull life.

@multidino 🌟 kimora!!! my multifandom queen!!! honestly, first of all i want to thank you for supporting me in all of my adventures and being one of the first people to help me kickstart my vav blog. second of all-- thank you, for being you. for being a great friend, for being a kind soul, for being one of the best people on this website. you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters!!! i love you so so so so much!!!

@ateezartblog 🌟 hello my sweet pumpkin. how are you today? have you eaten? did you sleep well? are you taking care of yourself? i hope you know how much i care about you!! i know you’re usually the one to come and check up on all of us, but sometimes you need it just as much as we do. please, angel love, remember to take care of yourself, even when you feel like you shouldn’t. you are just as deserving as everyone else, and one day, i hope you can see that. until then, i’ll make sure to remind you all of the time!! i love you lots!!

@wooyuong 🌟 precious angel baby inna!! hello my sweetest beanie baby. frankly, i don’t know how someone like you wanted to be friends with someone like me, but every time we talk i’m like !! that’s her im super blessed bc !! we friends!! you’re super talented, you’re super cute, and pls pls pls always remember that!!! you deserve all good things in the world and i’m so super glad that we talk ;;;

@wangtaeil 🌟 iconic miss bee!! life’s too short to only have one bias, and your words haunt help me to this day!!! i’m really glad i met you, because you’ve kinda sorta been a really big source of inspiration and help for me, especially recently. from feeling shitty about gifs, not wanting to be around, to even needing help with some stuff, i know i can always trust you and confide in you. you’re a talented woman, and you really have so much going for you. and you want to be friends with a lil nugget like me??? i am undeserving but thankful.

@choisansbitch 🌟 upaamaaa!!! now every time i eat a tuna sandwich, i think of you (i eat tuna a lot, so take that... i’m ALWAYS thinking about you). i know when we first started talking, i was nervous because i ??? really didnt feel like i even deserved to talk to you, cause you’re like... super amazing. but i’m so glad we’re friends!! you make some of the best gifs, and even if you don’t think so, i love them so so much!! and you’re honestly one of the sweetest, most relatable people in the world. please never lose your charm, i love you so much.

@missminji 🌟 hARLSS!!!! im still shocked that your super secret detective skills figured me out, but hey!! in the end they helped because now i actually talk to my “redacted” (we all know who redacted is) and i love her sm ;;; we havent been talking too much recently (i think life’s been kicking us rip) but no matter what, i love you, and i love getting to talk to you whenever i can. thank you for being my friend, i don’t deserve someone as lovely as you.

@utopiagf 🌟 you crazy, but ily. that’s it that’s the post-- ehrbgjehb im kidding, there’s so much more. you’re literally one of the most fun, bright, cheery person, and i love seeing you around. i know you just remade (and i was confused bc i was like?? nik??? where she go??) but literally i love love love seeing & talking to you, even if these days i’m still... super intimidated by you. but you’re such a sweetheart, and thank you for blessing me with your presence in my life. uwu

@visualsan 🌟 honestly i need to talk to you more ehjbrhjge every time i talk to anett and we mention you (all good things, of course uwu) i’m like?? why do i not talk to bea more?? literally you seem like such the coolest person, and i love love love seeing you, your gifs, everything uwu so yeah!! pls let’s talk more ilysm!

@prettyseonghwa 🌟 yas, i think you have one of the biggest hearts around here. you are so caring, so loving, and you really need to know that. i love you, really, so so much. thank you for always being there for us, for always giving the best advice and love that we all need. just know!! that you deserve a break too. you deserve all of the love you give-- and more. 

@dreamboyunho 🌟 cami, miss cami, my numba 1!!! you’ve always been someone i adore and cherish with all of my heart, but even recently we connected in a different, probably more personal way. it may not have been the best of circumstances but i’m really glad we did! i treasure you so much, and i’m glad i found someone i can truly confide in. we’re like!! two peas of a pod!! i’m really super duper glad i met you and that i can call you my friend.

@jonghostation 🌟 miss adelle uwu you’re so sweet and precious and we need more jongho stans like you (and more jongho stans in general) in this world!! i love talking to you, though recently i’ve been dead and not really socializing but i really do enjoy seeing you around and getting to talk to you!! you’re such a sweet soul and i love you. recently i saw you said you lowkey wish i was your mom?? c’mere baby you’re my child now uwu thank you for being the sweetest angel. aND I COULD NEVER FORGET YOUR ICONIC URL!!! ATINY LESSGEDDIT!!! DROP THE BEAT YOOOOO!!

@celestial-yunho 🌟 nini, you are literally... so talented. i dont know how i managed to score such a talented, loving, and sweet friend. your art!! is so good and im always really excited to see more of what you do. you’re my lil moon witch, and i love you so so much. thank you for giving me the time of day to get to know you, to be able to say that’s her!! thats nini!! thats my friend uwu you’re so precious and i hope you know that!!

@nctyping 🌟 im gonna be honest idek why i first followed you-- not in a like “ugh why did a follow her,,” i literally just cannot remember why i did. either way, it was one of the best decisions i’ve ever made. you’re one of the sweetest people in the whole world and i love reading what you write. like?? teach me your ways ;;; ily abbey!!

@toothgaptual 🌟 sun sun sunshine sunnie!!! okay, we don’t talk a ton, but i love love love when we do get to interact. you always manage to put a smile on my face, and i looove seeing you on my dash. please never ever think you’re bothersome or annoying, and talk your heart out! ilysm you cutie patootie!

@wonderhwalls 🌟 sweetest little flower, i know we’re more recently mutuals/friends, but i’m really glad i met you. talking to you always makes me feel better, whether its about what we’re doing, gifs, breaks, etc. you’re a voice of reason amidst the mess of this world, and i love being able to talk to you when i need a good pick me up. ily mika!!!

@atiteez 🌟 sonia, i literally think you were the first atiny mutual i ever had. i will always, aLWAYS hold you in a special place in my heart. you’re such a precious soul, and you’re lovely inside and out. i still dunno why you call me a moodboard queen-- i’m not thaaat good at that kinda stuff-- but i love you so much nonetheless. thank you for being my friend and helping me step into atinyblr (even though now we’re dying off).

@wlwrensung 🌟 miSS YUKKIIIII i hope you’re having fun on your trip!!! you’re one of my favorite people in the whole world, and i love love love talking to you. i mean?? someone like you??? wants to be friends with someone like me?? idk what you’re on that you wanna, but pls you’re the best ;;;; thank you for looking on someone like me and deciding “that’s it that’s her i wanna be friends with her” i dont deserve you but im all heart eyes bc i get to be friends with you!!

@shikyus 🌟 im an idiot with a brain the size of a pea and the memory of a goldfish. i love you-- i really do!! you’re one of the only people i clicked with immediately, and that’s kinda rare for me. you’re a sweetheart, you’re one of the most lovely people i’ve met, but you’re so chill and cool!! how do you do it?? honestly i’m really glad i met you, because like??? how often can someone say that they met someone and immediately clicked with them? i mean ok it happens often but !!! im still shocked!!! thank you for being my friend, for being super sweet, and kind, and caring-- a-and hopefully forgiving ;;;; im sorry im a dummy ;;;;;; im a big lovable dummy tho!!!!

and last but not least, miss kiki. i know she’s isnt on tumblr for now, but if she ever sees this... i have so much to say. thank you for being one of my best friends, for being one of the sweetest people in the world. i love you, i love everything about you, and i miss you. thank you for being my friend uwu

some other super awesome mutuals that i don’t have a ton to say about (either because we’re new mutuals or i havent talked to you too much yet) that i love with all my heart nonetheless: @meinyunho @fan-chngchng @ultvisual @seonghwalove @han-seungwoo @kthscenery @yooyonqha @woovoung @sanbotaged -- come talk to me more often!! i love to be bothered uwu

super special shoutout to my 3 starlight buddies who came over here and followed me despite originally knowing nothing about ateez and still supporting, loving, and talking to me: @hakjeon @babieken and @hansanghyuked. my longest standing mutuals, and even annie’s more than just a tumblr mutual-- she’s one of my closest friends. i love you guys ;;

now, i can’t leave a special message for every single one of my followers. hell, tumblr won’t even let me tag every single one of you (stupid tag limit), but know that i still love all of you. if i could (aka if i had time and energy), i’d go down the line and personally message each and every once of you to tell you all the important things.

you are all wonderful, you are all lovely, and i’m truly blessed to have all of you following me. remember to smile, to keep your chin up, because when the world gets going tough, i’m always there to support you! i love you all lots lots lots, whether we do or don’t talk. stay sweet, angels!

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Thirteen: Another Day ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

It’s just another day. Just gotta get through one more day.

So has been the approach of Uchiha Sasuke regarding his life after the war. And it’s not been easy. At first, he found himself completely stripped of his purpose. Losing to Naruto - or rather, conceding to Naruto - had signaled an end to a phase of the avenger’s life. One that - though changing - had remained a constant for a decade. Have a goal. One goal. Stick to it until reaching the end. Adjust as need be.

First had been vengeance against Itachi. Then justice in his brother’s name against the village that had used him. After their meeting in the war, and the discussion the the Hokage, he’d had one last iteration: bring the battle to an end...and then use the circumstances to wipe clean the slate of shinobi. Remove the Kage. Ensnare the beasts. Use his newfound power to bring peace absolute, even if it meant resigning himself to the shadows.

He’d accepted that role. Made peace with it.

But, as usual...Naruto got in his way.

It was for the better, he supposes...even if some aspects, to him, remain necessary. Mostly regarding the shape and path forward of the shinobi world. Once he’d been healed and made whole (physically, at least), he’d left Konoha behind with a pilgrimage in mind. With plans to see the world and its new beginnings in every land, every village.

But then he’d gotten a bit...sidetracked.

And now, here he is, with not only a brother returned to him, but a cousin as well. And a police force under his command, in joint effort with the Hyūga. Which had led (at least in part) to his meeting the woman he wakes up to on this fine day.

Hinata’s still asleep, lying on her back as to best compensate for her rather voluminous stomach. Within grows their future firstborn, who’s finally letting her sleep in for once.

Managing to spare a few minutes to watch her, Sasuke eventually has to concede to a need to rise. Even if his wife is on maternity leave, he still has a job to do...bright and early, as he does nearly every day.

His morning routine is quick and basic, up and out the door in less than half an hour. As she always does, Hinata’s left him a breakfast to eat on the road to the station. He finishes just as he reaches the front door.

“Uchiha-sama!” A young Hyūga recruit snaps to attention. “The captain of the ANBU was here earlier, sir! He requested an immediate audience.”

...shit. That’s not good. Suddenly far more awake, Sasuke presses for details. “Where?”

“I...I think he’s just been waiting in your office, sir.”

A nod. “Thanks.”

He wastes no time in striding down the hall, entering the proper room and locking it behind himself. Itachi leans in a corner, dressed in ANBU gear, minus the mask. “Itachi? What -?”

“I need your assistance on a case.”

“...me as an officer, or me as an Uchiha?”

“The latter.”

Sasuke’s visible eye narrows. “...it happened again?”

“...it did. Worse this time.”

“Where?”

“My front door.”

“What?!”

A hand raises against his loud tone. “Thankfully that means it’s really only visible to us, tucked away in the compound. I’d like to keep word of it that way, as well.”

Sasuke pauses, trying to think. “...what did it say?”

“The usual. Threats, a list of our crimes...but no one claiming it. Whoever it was, must have been skilled. Someone would have noticed them otherwise. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill dissenter against the Uchiha. This was someone serious.”

“I take it you moved your family?”

“I did. I’d have done the same for you, but the words were rather specific in targeting me this time. If you’d like, I can still have Hinata fetched. Shisui took the rest to the Hokage tower this morning.”

Sasuke runs an irritated hand back through his hair. “So much for having this be just another day…” Pause. “...I think that’s best. Until we can go over the scene and find out more. I don’t want to run in the face of a threat, but…”

“I know. I feel the same. We have people we can’t dare to risk.” With that, Itachi replaces his weasel facade. “I’ll dispatch a few of my officers. If things get bad enough, the missus suggested taking herself, the kids, and Hinata to her home in the mountains.”

“With the pair of them pregnant?”

“She’s capable, and you forget her teacher lives there as well. They’d be safe, and far from harm’s way...not to mention under rather strict defense.”

Sasuke can’t help a scowl. “...I don’t want our clan driven out of Konoha again.”

“Neither do I. But their safety is priority.”

“...I know.”

With that, the pair abandon the station and return to the Uchiha compound, the only three structures standing out rather obviously in the otherwise-empty district. Giving his home a glance, Sasuke instead follows Itachi to the main manor.

And then balks.

Carved into the front door is a vulgar message, within which is contained a number of threats, and foreboding warnings against Itachi’s “betrayals”.

“...she didn’t see it, did she?”

“No. I was up far earlier, and ordered her and the twins out the back with Shisui. They didn’t need to see that. He took them to the Hokage tower for now, to keep an eye on them while on shift with Kakashi. Hinata should be there by now as well.” Itachi’s face declines slightly. “...I should not be surprised, and yet…”

“It’s nauseating,” Sasuke agrees before his brother has to speak. “...and pisses me off. What do they mean, betrayal? You were working on behalf of the village! Everyone knows that now!”

Rereading the message, Itachi slowly shakes his head. “...I’m not sure. It could be that I betrayed the Uchiha...but who beyond us would be left to feel anger in that regard?”

“I dunno…”

“...there was Akatsuki, I suppose...and…” He fades out to silence.

“...what?”

“You remember what was reported about Root? There was no actual list of active members. And it was suspected some refused to report back to Konoha to be reassigned and reintegrated after Danzō’s death, and the faction’s dissolution.”

“...yeah…”

“This is only a theory, but...perhaps those remnants of Root are those who have been targeting us. Think about it: it makes sense. It could be said that I ‘betrayed’ Danzō. You and Shisui as well. Shisui’s eye was stolen, but he escaped, and has been revealed to have been living in secret despite Danzō’s order for his death. You fought him and drove him to suicide in an attempt to stop you and Obito. And I...I brought the truth of his actions to light with my return and pardon. All of his work has been revealed. His role in the massacre. Danzō’s life, reputation, and wishes have all been made moot by the three of us.”

Sasuke can’t help a humorless huff of breath. “...so you’re telling me we have an unknown number of ANBU-level nutcases still loyal to a dead asshole looking to get revenge on us?”

“As I said, it is only a theory. But it would explain why we can’t seem to catch them. It could be just one person. It could be a hundred. We have no records of Roots numbers, let alone how many turned their backs after Danzō’s death. They were brainwashed to be loyal to him. A few managed to resist, but…” Itachi gestures almost apathetically. “That may be the root of our problem.”

“...I’d expect wordplay like that from Shisui, not you.”

“He’s not here. Someone had to do it.”

Sasuke drags a hand down his face, sighing and staring at the splintered door. “...if that’s the case...we need to be damn careful. Hinata’s a jōnin, but also pregnant. Your wife’s a non-combat medic in the same boat with two kids. How the hell do we protect them without quitting our jobs to guard them day and night, and fortifying the houses?”

“...I don’t know. I will speak to Kakashi on the matter, as I’m sure Shisui has already begun. He may have more insight, and have help to offer. But I cannot assume what resources he would be willing - or able - to spare.”

The pair lapse back into silence, each lost in their thoughts. Anger slowly begins to boil in Sasuke’s blood. How dare they...how dare they come after his family...after all they’ve already been through? When will it end?!

“...for now, we’d best reconvene in the Hokage’s office. One of my squads will gather evidence in the meantime. And we’d best put the compound on lockdown. No one in or out.”

“Hn…”

There’s sympathy in Itachi’s gaze through his mask. “...we’ll get through this. As always...we live to fight another day.”

...but how many more will we need?

     OOF. This one's posted before midnight (my time) - yay! And also is a little bit heavier than usual!      This is another canon-ish snippet from a major WIP fic of mine that I'll probably never actually finish. SH is a side pairing in it, with focus actually being on a few RPCs of mine. And the epilogue (having been planned before Boruto's creation) focuses instead on major conflict surrounding the Uchiha, and a faction called "New Root"...which, as we can see, is causing the tiny clan some major issues.      'Issues' being a rather light word for it.      Anywho, Itachi just might be on to something with his Root theory...which is actually a much bigger problem than their first assumptions of simple villagers being upset with his return (as well as Sasuke's) given their past behavior. Which leads to a lot of drama and tension down the road!      But, this is just a snippet for the challenge, ahaha - so that's where we'll have to leave it for now. But, either way, I hope you enjoyed reading, and thanks as always for stopping by!

[broken-clover]

ACC Day 5- Freebie (Family)

I messed up!! I went and messed up!! Five days in and I already got off track. I’m really very sorry, my schedule was messy and I was up past two finishing this and then I managed to fall asleep before posting. Hopefully this makes up for it by virtue of 3,000+ words, which is somehow a thing that happened. I don’t get me either.

Well, finally getting into some Blazblue, today with Bang plus some Kagura and Tenjo! Sort of a follow-up to another fic, Lesson Number One, but I don’t think you’d need to read it to understand unless you wanted to.

Just for the sake of being safe, content warnings for ableist slurs and implied emotional abuse.

“Okay, let’s try this again. ‘Mutsuki.’”

“Moot-soo-ki.”

Kagura sat back in his chair, rubbing at his temples. “No. Like ‘Moot-ski.’ Two syllables.”

“Moot-soo-ki.”

“‘Moot-ski.’” His gaze hardened slightly.

“Moot-soo-ki!” Bang giggled, not even glancing up from the shuriken that he was spinning on his finger. “It has su-ki, so moot-soo-ki!”

He sighed, already tired of arguing. “Just...forget it, okay? You can just call me Captain Kagura.”

“Ka-gu-ra-nii!”

“No, Bang…” Kagura covered his eyes. He sorely regretted agreeing to play babysitter for Tenjo. He knew her meetings were very important and she needed to attend, but would it have been difficult to hire an actual babysitter? Or just let the kid wander around the castle on his own? He was a big kid, he could handle himself.

Bang was already distracted with something else, dropping the weapon and rolling over onto the hundred pounds of fluff named Kagemaru.

“Ka-ge-ma-ru, wanna play?”

The akita made a little ‘harrumph,’ stretching a little and licking the boy’s face before immediately curling up and going back to sleep.

“Still tired from the last game?” He scowled, crossing his arms before turning back to Kagura. “Ka-gu-ra-nii, he’s sleepy and doesn’t wanna play. Can we play together instead?”

The man immediately remembered the massive bruise he’d gotten across his abdomen the last time he’d agreed to one of Bang’s games. “Didn’t Tenjo say you needed to practice your suburi more?”

“Ohhh…” Without another word, he hopped to his feet and hurried over to the little rack bolted to the wall of his makeshift room. There was only one sword on it, a wooden practice blade, mounted low enough that Bang could grab it easily. “Help me practice?”

That, at least, seemed like an easy enough request. Kagura stood up and cracked his joints, swiping his massive blade off of where it had been resting against the wall. “Sure, kid. Gonna take your scarf off, first?”

He was expecting a simple (if emphatic) ‘yes’ or ‘okay,’ but all he got in reply was a quiet ‘nope.’

“No?” Kagura paused in place. “It’s gonna get knotted up. You’re gonna get tangled in your own scarf in the middle of a fight.”

“M’not taking it off.” Just for emphasis, Bang shoved his face into the fabric. “You tie your hand to your sword.”

“It’s to keep the grip from slipping off!” He opted not to think about the time he had tried dropping his sword after practice and proceeded to accidentally sprain his wrist when he left the tether on. “Besides, I keep it under control. What happens if someone tries to grab you by the scarf and choke you with it?”

“Toss it at ‘em?”

“Kid…”

A knock came at the door, thankfully sparing Kagura from any more conversation. “Kagura? Bang?”

“Tenjo-sama!” Bang immediately dropped his sword and bounded over as Tenjo let herself in. “Ten-jo-sa-ma!”

A hand reached down to ruffle his hair. “It’s good to see you. I hope you didn’t give Kagura too much trouble?”

“Nothing’s broken, which I count as a success.” The man quipped in reply. “Meeting go over well?”

“No declarations of war, which I count as a success.” Tenjo offered a rare bit of banter back.

“It’s lunch time now.” Already bored with the adults talking, Bang hopped back and forth on either foot, rubbing his hands against his scarf.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Tenjo laughed softly, holding the door open for him and Kagura to leave. “I did promise lunch after I finished.”

Wadatsumi Castle was remarkably quiet, despite the meeting that had gone on. The building was rather large, with Tenjo’s bedroom and one of the guest rooms that Bang had been staying in being the only real sources of noise in that wing of the castle. Still, after meetings, diplomats and department heads seemed eager to head on back to where they had come from, presumably to discuss information and decide courses of action (or, as Kagura would quip, ‘gossip like housewives and complain for the sake of complaining.’)

The dining hall was designed to seat a long line of dignified guests, but it was rare that more than a few would sit down at once. Tenjo reached down to nudge Bang towards one of the doors at the other end of the room.

“I’ve got something I need to discuss with Kagura briefly. Why don’t you go tell the cook what you want for lunch? I promise I’ll be finished very soon.”

“O-K!” The reply came with a sharp nod. “Beef stir-fry?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Stir-fry, stir-fry, stir-fry~”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Tenjo turned to Kagura. “You seem irritated with something, Kagura, what’s wrong?”

“Just a little worn down after that. He gives off so much energy, I just don’t get it.” He offered a shrug that wasn’t as convincing as he would have liked.

“Children are remarkably energetic. One of the world’s mysteries, but I suppose I find it rather endearing.” Tenjo’s smile thinned into an unreadable line. “I can tell that isn’t what’s bothering you. Is Bang giving you trouble?”

Kagura was still stubborn. “I though the kid would be a better strategist. I don’t think he’s actually looked at a strategy book in his life. He’s still convinced nails are a viable combat weapon.”

That got another little laugh out of her. “He’s nine, Kagura. You weren’t exactly Sun Tzu at his age, either.”

“I guess.” He continued to talk, without really thinking. “Dunno if he’s got any skills for combat in general.”

“Why is that?”

Kagura flinched. He didn’t hear that tone often, but it had just enough coldness to make even him be afraid. “I-I don’t really mean-”

“Just tell me, Kagura.” Tenjo’s voice softened just slightly. “If you’re having issues, I’d like to know.”

“I just can’t get him to act like a proper fighter, no matter what I do.” He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I dunno how you even got him to try the sword. He doesn’t focus. He keeps getting distracted by everything. Won’t take off the damn scarf ever.” His voice sharpened, growing more irritated. “Half the time I swear he’s never heard a real person talk in his life. He never wants to talk about anything other than heroes or weapons. From what I’ve seen, he’s got no more fighting capability than practically anyone you could pluck off a random street-corner. Absolutely nothing special. He’s a pain, Tenjo, how much longer are you gonna keep this up?”

“He’s my protege, Kagura, just as you are. I’m not sure why you seem so insistent in your dislike of him. He likes you very much.”

“Trust me, I know.” He crossed his arms. “Started calling me ‘Kagura-nii.’”

“Not everyone takes on skills in the same way.”

“I know.”

“You say that, but yet you seem so impatient. You can’t expect him to be a carbon-copy of you. I know it’s going to be a bit difficult working with someone who behaves differently than you, and I’m well aware that Bang is a bit peculiar-”

“‘Peculiar?’ Guy wants to fight people with nails.”

“-But it’s just a matter of adapting.” Continued Tenjo, with just a hint of venom to her tone. “And I truly do appreciate your help with training, Kagura. Even if it is difficult.”

He felt a bit of heat rise in his face. Tenjo always knew just how to make him feel guilty. “I’ll figure something out…”

“You’re so obsessed with trying to make him think like you. Have you tried seeing what happens if you think like him?”

Kagura snorted. “Hey, spare me the philosophy. Was this really what you wanted to talk about?”

Her expression fell, almost imperceptibly so, but he was just as attuned to her emotions as she was for his. “Tenjo?

“You know how Bang never mentions his parents?”

“Yeah? Wasn’t sure if he was an orphan or what. What about ‘em?”

“I think I managed to find them.”

Of all things, he hadn’t been expecting that. “You what? Really?”

“I pruned through the technology reports from a couple of years ago. I thought I recognized a Shishigami from one of them. I managed to find names and a location with some assistance from the registrar. Hana and Kanji Shishigami. They live over in block 3. I’ve summoned them to come visit the castle.”

“So he’s going back with his parents?” Kagura replied, trying not to sound eager at the prospect.

“It appears so.” Tenjo was far more downbeat. “I’m looking forward to meeting with them.”

The swordsman turned to her. “You don’t sound it. Something wrong?”

She was quiet for a moment, as though choosing her words carefully. “They seem...very detached from his life.”

“Huh?”

“It’s been over a month. I’ve never seen any signs of his parents looking for him. It was difficult just to find them. How could they not have noticed he left?”

“Tenjo-sama!” A shout accompanied by the slam of a door interrupted the conversation. Bang reappeared from the kitchen, followed by one of the castle servants. “Lunchtime! I got to help!”

They chose to pause there, finding places to sit at the table and eat. Tenjo was able to find a different discussion, a simple and meaningless chat about finance distribution that only served to occupy space.

Bang merely sat at the table and kicked his legs while everyone else talked. He could be a very talkative child, but unless the conversation was about weaponry, heroics, or fighting styles, he didn’t have much interest in joining it. Instead, he prodded at his lunch, meticulously scraping out the chunks of bell pepper that were mixed in with the rest of it.

Before any of them knew it, another servant entered the dining hall, bowed politely, and spoke.

“Milord, Mr. and Mrs. Shishigami have arrived, and are waiting in the foyer. I had another servant gather the young man’s belongings, and find a leash for the dog. They are all waiting by the front entrance.”

Kagura turned to Bang with a smile. “Isn’t that great? You get to go home to your family again!”

The boy merely pushed his plate away, expression suddenly dull. He dutifully hopped out of his chair, standing stone-still as the two adults got to their feet.

“Our time together has been wonderful, Bang.” Tenjo kept her calm, dignified expression. “I will do my best to see if your lessons can be continued in some way. If your parents allow it, I would be happy to keep you as my protege.”

He offered a noncommittal noise. No eagerly flapping arms or hopping steps. Just quiet, quieter than Kagura had ever seen him before. There weren’t any traces of his overactive cheer. Just a sort of empty nothing where he stood.

When the hallways dumped back out into the front of the building, a small pile of boxes were waiting, just as the servant had said, with Kagemaru leashed to a pole. Alongside them, a pair of unfamiliar figures were waiting.

“My lord!” The woman offered a polite bow. “It’s an honor, Imperator.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Tenjo reached out a hand. “You are the Shishigamis? It’s wonderful to finally meet with you.”

The man seemed far shier than his partner, but gave his own polite greeting. “You are too kind, Imperator. I’m Kanji, and this is my wife Hana.” Kagura could see the resemblance easily. Especially with the hair, though his mother’s was neat and restrained while his was shaggy and wild.

The woman’s eyes flicked over him, before settling on Bang. She smiled, though it seemed sharper than necessary.

“Hello, Bang! Wonderful to see you again. Have you been good?”

As soon as she started speaking, Kagura felt little fists grip onto his leg.

Mr. Shishigami was already occupied with a conversation with Tenjo. “I can’t begin to say what a relief it is to know that our boy is safe and sound. I do hope he didn’t cause much trouble for you, your eminence.”

“Oh, not at all. Bang has been quite the breath of fresh air here in the castle.”

“Ahh, that’s wonderful!”

In terms of mannerisms, Kagura was puzzled on how they possibly could have been related. Both were polite and soft-spoken, while all that came to mind when he thought of Bang was raucous and half-coherent chatter.

“I do hope you’ll forgive me for this,” the woman continued, “but Bang seemed very interested in swords and combat during his stay with me. I introduced him to some basic techniques, and he’s been making remarkable progress.”

“Swords? With all due respect, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Hana butted in. “I don’t trust him with butter knives! I wouldn’t think giving him a sword would be at all safe.”

With a little bit of pulling, Kagura tried to dislodge the hands grabbing onto him. He hissed under his breath. “Go on! Why don’t you go see your parents?”

Tenjo gave another warm, polite smile to placate them. “Rest assured, I’ve been very careful with what I teach him. My elder protege, Kagura Mutsuki, has also been very helpful.” She gestured to the swordsman. “And as I said, Bang has been making remarkable progress. His tenacity is inspiring, and he has a very strong drive to problem-solve. He’s taken to this with a remarkable amount of enthusiasm, it’s impressive to witness.”

Despite that, Hana seemed firmly unconvinced. “Oh, I doubt he can solve any problems on his own. You’ve probably noticed, but he’s very unintelligent. Trusting him with anything sharp never ends well.”

While Kagura would agree that she had some point, but there was something unnerving about how casually she spoke, especially considering that Bang stood only a few feet away from her. She didn’t even look at him again after saying hello. Like he wasn’t even there with them.

“I beg to differ.” Kagura recognized that smile, just a smidge forced and usually reserved when she was making a point and wanted it to stick. “Little Bang is almost a natural at my lessons. And he’s very well-behaved. I’ve encountered older students that don’t listen as well. He’s shown quite a lot of potential.”

Kanji had long gone quiet, glancing in between Tenjo and his wife. Hana continued to talk, giving him no time to speak if he even wanted to. “Ah. Well, it’s nice to know that there’s some way to finally get him to listen. I know he can be quite the handful. Trust me, I know from experience. No matter how hard I try to teach him, he’s still such a troublemaker.”

Tenjo was not a woman who was quick to anger. Kagura didn’t see anger in her eyes, but he could make out something forceful. “He has been an excellent student. I was going to ask to see if you would be willing to consider allowing him to continue his studies with me- at no charge to you, of course. Given his aptitude, I think he will make a fine warrior if he is allowed to hone his skills with practice and instruction.”

Very few people would say no to the Imperator. Especially when the tone of her words gave off just enough of an impression that her words were an order, rather than a polite suggestion.

Hana Shishigami looked her right in the eyes as she replied. “I appreciate it, but I’m afraid I’m going to decline. Knowing him, he’s probably forgotten everything you’ve taught him already. He never really learns anything. He’s retarded. He doesn’t know how to remember things.”

Kagura felt Bang flinch against him.

“I see. That’s a shame.” Tenjo replied, expression never changing. “I suppose that’s all the questions I had. Unless you have any of your own, we’ll let you take you leave and return home.”

“...Like hell we are.”

“Yes, Kagura?” The Imperator sounded genuinely confused. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

“Yeah. Like hell I’m letting him anywhere near you.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so much hatred at these people all of a sudden, but it was hard not to lash out. “Where have you two been for the last month that was so important?”

“W-we’re researchers.” Kanji replied. “Lots of experiments to attend to-”

“And for an entire month, you didn’t notice your nine-year-old kid was missing?” Kagura’s eyes were shining with anger. “Or were you happy he was gone?”

“How...how dare you! It may not have been the most responsible moment, but you’ve seen him! He’s quiet, he’s easy to lose track of-”

“Bullshit.” He directed his glare at Hana. “Do you not even know your own kid? He loves to talk. You start him on something he’s interested in, and he can go on for hours. Did you just not pay attention? Or did you tell him to shut up every time?” His stare was so sharp, it could practically cut glass. "Did you ever listen to him at all? Was he just another project, instead of a person?"

The woman looked at Tenjo desperately. “Your eminence, can’t you please deal with him?”

“Kagura is his own person. I don’t own him.” She said. “And I’m not particularly inclined to silence him when I agree with what he says.”

“Y-you-...”

He had been expecting shouting, outrage, anything. Instead, she merely leveled a cold glare at the both of them.

“Fine. Keep the little retard if you want him so badly. Just don’t expect him to amount to anything. He’s barely smart enough to breathe.”

Hana stormed out of the castle foyer without another word. Kanji offered another polite, meek bow before hurrying off after her.

“You okay, Bang?” Kagura looked down to see him still clinging onto his leg, sniffling quietly with tears brimming in his eyes.

“It’s alright. They’re gone now.” Tenjo gave him a gentle pat on the head. “If they’re as smart as they claim to be, then they won’t come back.”

Despite the assurance, Bang seemed no more consoled. “P-please don’t be mad.”

“What? Why would we be mad?”

He looked up at Kagura. “Mommy gets mad when I mis-be-have.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason to be mad at you about anything.”

“‘m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Tenjo looked up at the boxes by the door. “Let’s put your belongings back in your room.”

It didn’t take long to move things. Kagura carried most of the light boxes in one trip, with Bang carrying the rest while Kagemaru padded behind. Tenjo lead them back to the room, and they set the boxes down on the bare table.

“Need help putting your things away?”

“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head. “I can do it.”

“Alright then. I’ve got some paperwork to handle, will you be alright on your own?” Tenjo asked.

“Okay.”

As soon as Tenjo and Kagura left, Bang wrapped himself up in his scarf, curled up with Kagemaru, and stayed there for the rest of the night.

[kidzbopmallcop]

so our boys are in red base alone, becuse sarge and donut and Lopez left to go fight the reds, and Grif is about to ask Simmons a very important question when....

Dexter is sitting with the only person on the team he can stand, and not standing because why the hell would he do that when he doesn’t have to? It’s only been a year since they were shipped off to this canyon in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, every day feels like it’s forever until the last. But Richard is here sitting next to him, so it isn’t that bad, is it?

Dexter always gets sentimental in these moments. When they sit on the edge of red base, out of their armor and holding hands. They can only do this at night, when Sarge is across the canyon harassing the blues and Lope is charging. No one can steal these moments from them. The sky is unfamiliar with strange constellations and no moon, but the stars are so numerous it’s still illuminating enough that Dexter can steal glances at Richard.

Yeah, being here isn’t so bad if it’s with Richard. Dexter thinks that no star can be as fascinating as this man, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Their relationship is only two years old, but Dexter already feels like this is his forever man. Like he could sit with Richard forever and just stare at the stars.

If anyone caught him thinking those things in a way that would be out loud he’d beg to be killed on the spot. No one needs to hear that other than Richard.

They never even consider telling anyone anything anyways. They’re as different as night and day, really. Richard with his strawberry hair and pasty pale skin dotted with freckles, all thin and lean and tall. Dexter is the opposite, dark hair as long as the military would allow, his skin brown and splotchy with a myriad of stretch marks and moles. There’s also their personalities, Dexter being lazy and chill while Richard is wound tighter than a spring, never calming down.

No one would understand, so they don’t bother trying to make people understand.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard.”’ Richard says, his bony shoulder nudging Dexter’s side. Richard’s hair almost looks red in the darkness, Dexter things with a rush of affection.

How the hell does he build up to what he wants to ask? “I was thinking.” Grif says. “I dunno what the fuck to call you.”

“You call me Simmons.” Richard said in reply. Right, that’s what they call each other when they’re not alone.

“No, I mean like in our relationship.” Dexter clarifies. “What are we?”

Richard gives him a long look. “You know, this makes me think after the first time we were together.”

“Are we talking about that date we took to that lake near the training camp or the first time we fucked in that tent before we weren’t sure about transfers?” Dexter asks. Fond memories. The first one was shooting the shit in between makeouts, and the second one was desperation in thinking they might end up somewhere away from each other.

“Dexter.” Richard warns. “I remember I asked you if you were gay or bi and-”

“Okay so this is the date at the lake.” Dexter nods.

Richard punches him in the shoulder, light enough to not actually hurt. “You gave me a hand wiggle, said ‘It’s whatever bro’, and then asked me if I’d be down for second base.”

Dexter snorts. “You totally were too.”

Richard blushes at the memory. “Whatever, so why are you worried about what we call our thing?”

The other red soldier rubs the back of his neck. “I just want to know what you think we are, you know?”

Richard looks oddly smug, and folds his hands. “I think I love you and you love me, do you want there to be something else?”

Dexter shakes his head, and just leans against Richard’s arm. He’s so neat and put together, even if he’s an anxious wreck he covers it well. He’s got on a tight tee shirt, and plain sweatpants for once. Dexter is wearing his ‘sex machine’ tank top and cargo shorts, which isn’t unusual. Not really something to wear to ask what he wants, but it’s not like he can go and find a nice restaurant to ask what he wants to.

“You’re still thinking really hard.” Richard comments.

Dexter takes a deep breath, trying to sort the words through his head. “Alright. So yeah, I love you and you love  me. And I kinda love you more than I think I love even oreos and every time I manage to make you take a nap with me I think that I just want to do that forever right? So I wanted to ask-”

Dexter gets cut off as Richard scrambles up, and then slams one knee down on the roof of red base. “Marry me!” He demands.

He catches on right away. “Hey, no, fuck you! You don’t get to do this!” Dexter demands, and shoves at Simmons to get him off his one knee. “I was just about to ask you! I have a ring, you can’t do this!”

“No, too late.” Richard says, and in his hands in a fucking box, the fucker! “I have a ring too, but you’ll have to take this one.”

The ring is obviously handmade, wrought from a gold-looking metal with a crude pretty stone that’s probably dug from the side of the canyon set into it. It almost looks like a pearl, which Richard knows is his favorite gemstone, the asshole.

Dexter gets out his own ring, yanking it out of his pocket. It’s not handmade, it’s a ring that he usually wears around his neck. It’s not special, just one of his mother’s old prettier rings that he hadn’t sold off when she left him and his sister. It’s silver with a few small yellow diamonds set in it. “I have an actual ring, take it and marry me!”

“I actually have the documents you’d need to sign downstairs, so you’ll have to marry me.” Richard says.

“You’ll get that ring on me once we make vows and say them to each other later!” Grif says. “But you’re going to put mine on first.”

Richard lunges at him, and then they’re rolling on the roof of red base trying to pin the other and force the ring onto the other’s hands. Dexter is losing, so he plays dirty and just lays on top of Richard and lets the man scramble like a cockroach on it’s back. They stay like that a few minutes until Richard is out of breath.

“Okay.” Richard says. “How about we both agree to try this later?”

“We’re going to talk about this in the  morning like regular people.” Dexter decides before he rolls off of his… fuck. He had hoped to use the word ‘husband’ after this but now it looks like that’s a moot point.

Richard just looks mortified with himself and pissed to hell. “Fuck, I had so much planned for when you said yes too. I was hoping you’d say yes and we’d make out and have really good sex and then sign the papers in the morning and just laugh with each other on private channels if anyone makes secretly married jokes about us!”

The other man grumbles at his ridiculous partner. “I was thinking that I’d give you the ring and we’d make vows to say when I ordered the papers and they got here and I’d make an Oreo pie instead of a cake since we don’t exactly have the means to make a cake.”

They just go back to holding hands. Labels can come later.