#I have so much shit to figure out and deal with and I gotta find a way for it all

[uss-butterscotch]

Part 2 of this (another between seasons 3&4 fic from eddie’s pov)

The next encounter Eddie had with Steve Harrington was one week later, but it wasn’t in the school’s parking lot. Instead, it was in the bathroom. The rest of the group was working on solving a puzzle to make it through this week’s quest, and he figured he’d have plenty of time to hit the head before they figured it out.

He should have known something was up when he walked through the bathroom door and the lights were out. When he flicked them back on, and he heard a pained groan, he should have turned back around and found the bathroom in the next hall over. But it was just his luck that he didn’t do either of those things.

He took a cautious step into the bathroom to find none other than Harrington. On the floor by the sinks. His arm slung over his eyes.

He took a quick glance at his watch and confirmed what he already knew. There was still an hour before Hellfire ended and Steve was expected to pick up his gaggle of freshmen. And yet, there he was, right in front of Eddie, looking more than a little pale.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked tentatively, “You good, man?”

“Munson.” The man on the floor all but groaned out. He took a deep breath and if Eddie was a betting man, he’d guess it was to steady himself. “I’m uh… I’ll be good, just gotta…”

Eddie waited for a moment, but Harrington never finished the thought. The more he looked at Harrington, the worse he looked. His hair was damp like he’d splashed water on his face and his usually neatly tucked shirt was rumpled.

“Are you like, drunk or something?” Eddie asked.

“No I-“ he stopped abruptly and grit his teeth. He looked like he was trying to hold back another exclamation of pain.

Eddie watched for a moment, unsure of what to do, or if he should even be seeing this. He was about to ask another questions when Steve let out a shaky breath.

“Lights.” Was all he said, and it took Eddie half a second longer than it should’ve to realize he should turn the lights back off.

When he did, he heard Harrington take another deep breath. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

Eddie shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Okay so, not drunk… Hungover?” He didn’t really expect this to be the answer, given Harrington’s “keg king” reputation, but it was the only other thing he could think of.

“No.” Steve said, almost sounding frustrated. “My head, I get-“

If he looked pale before, he looked downright green now in the dim light filtering in through the window into the hallway. Suddenly he was scrambling to one of the stalls with less grace than Eddie thought was possible for a star athlete like him, and the telltale sign of emptying the contents of one’s stomach could be heard from within.

It was at that moment Eddie decided he was not equipped to deal with the situation alone, and he turned to leave the bathroom. “I’m gonna go get help, man. Stay here.”

Stay here? Real helpful, Eddie, the guy writhing in pain on the bathroom floor wandering off was probably a big concern. He took off running back to the drama classroom with one goal in mind.

“Henderson,” he shouted as he threw open the door.

Six pairs of eyes snapped to him, a combination of confused and startled.

“Your babysitter’s like, dying in the bathroom.”

“What?” Dustin practically screeched, hurriedly getting up from his chair. Mike and Lucas exchanged a worried look.

“What’s happening? Did he lose another fight? Is there blood? I don’t have my first aid kit on me! Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin was fully panicking.

“Woah, slow down. No blood, just, his head? I think? And he was uh, throwing up when I left him.” Eddie said, feeling a little guilty about riling the kid up so much. And filing away the fact that he apparently keeps a first aid kit on him sometimes.

“Oh thank god.” Dustin sighed and immediately relaxed. “It’s just a migraine.”

Lucas was immediately on his feet. “I’ll call Robin.” And he was out the door.

Dustin began digging in his backpack and pulled out a pill bottle, a walkie talkie, and his bottle of water. “Which bathroom?” He asked, staring intently at Eddie.

“Uh, just, the one down the hall.” Eddie replied a little shakily, his body not quite catching onto the fact that it didn’t seem like an emergency situation anymore.

Dustin nodded and pushed past him through the door. Without even really thinking about it, Eddie found himself following.

“Wait wait, what’s happening?” Eddie asked, still a little frantic.

“Steve gets these migraines now. Really bad headaches.” Dustin explained quickly. “Doctor said it can happen after too many concussions, which Steve has had plenty of at this point.”

They made it back to the bathroom where the lights were still off. “Steve?” Dustin called softly.

He received an unintelligible mumble from the stall Eddie knew Harrington to be in.

Dustin made his way toward the noise. “Did you take your pills already?”

“Threw’em up..” Steve slurred quietly.

“Ok well, I brought some more. I’ll leave them here for when you think you’re done throwing up.” Dustin said, using the voice he saved for when he was trying to be helpful.

Eddie heard the pill bottle be set down on the floor followed by two other objects. The water bottle and the walkie, he deduced in some back room of his brain.

“Lucas is calling Robin, but walkie if you need anything else, okay?”

Once again, the only response he got was something that might have been words if they got put through a meat grinder. As Eddie stood there he remembered the apparent relief the freshman seemed to have at knowing it was only this. Apparently a headache bad enough to be throwing up on the floor of a dark high school bathroom. He couldn’t help but wonder what they could have been expecting that was worse.

Dustin exited the stall, careful not to let the door slam shut. “Let’s get out of here.” He whispered to Eddie in the darkness, and he was only too eager to agree.

Once they were back in the hallway, they started slowly making their way back to the others. Eddie glanced over at Dustin, whose expression was unreadable other than he looked lost in thought.

“Well that looks like it sucks.” He stated, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah.” Dustin said quietly.

Now Eddie was starting to get anxious again. Henderson was never this quiet. “It’s good that you know what to do to help.” He offered.

“It’s my fault it even happens.” Dustin snapped.

Eddie whipped his head to look at the freshman. “Woah, I don’t think-“

“I’m the one who kept dragging him into all the shit that got him hurt.” Dustin shouted. “He was there when Billy showed up because I asked him to help me! He got take-“

He did the thing that Eddie had been noticing more and more. Like he was adjusting what he was about to say for some reason. Like he was keeping secrets.

“He got hurt at Starcourt because I convinced him to come with me!” The kid’s eyes were dangerously close to spilling tears.

“Knock it off!” Mike’s voice came from down the hallway.

He stalked closer to them at an agitated pace. “If he hadn’t been there any of those times, we’d all be dead.”

Eddie didn’t have time to process that before Dustin was yelling back to him.

“Oh, and it’s ok to turn his brain to mush if it means we’re safe, huh?” Dustin shot back.

“It’s not like we were forcing him to do anything! He could have said no whenever! It was his choice to be involved!” Mike was yelling now too.

“Oh really? What about the tunnels?”

Eddie watched them go back and forth, barely making sense of what they were saying, but knowing it was turning into a full blown fight. “Hey guys,” he tried to interject.

“You’re the one who insisted we couldn’t leave him behind!” Mike yelled, exasperated.

“Because if Billy had woken up to us and his car missing, who knows what he would have done!”

“Guys?” Eddie tried, a little louder, but he was ignored again.

“And besides, you just said we would have died if he hadn’t been there, so what side are you on?” Dustin continued.

“I’m just saying, he can make his own decisions, it’s not our fault anything happened!”

“Hey!” A voice came from down the hall behind Eddie. They all turned to see Harrington half in the hallway, supporting himself on the bathroom doorframe. “Will you little shits keep it down out here?”

He didn’t look any better than he had when Eddie first saw him, and he wondered how the hell he had managed to pull himself off the floor at all.

“Sorry, Steve.” Dustin said at the same time Mike scoffed and said “Whatever.”

Again, Eddie found himself watching the scene in front of him like it was a tennis match.

Harrington winced in the light of the hallway, but he managed to look at the two freshman. “Dustin, as much as I hate to say it, Wheeler’s right. Everything I did, I chose it. And I’d do it again if it meant keeping you idiots safe.”

Dustin sighed. “That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

Steve waved a hand at him, a motion which looked like it almost cost him his balance. “I know, sorry.” He tried to flash them a smile, but it was leaning a bit too far into grimace territory. “Point is, it’s nobody’s fault, or if it’s anyone’s it’s Billy’s and…”

Harrington trailed off, eyes shifting to briefly to Eddie, before he closed them, looking like he gave up on the thought.

“Whatever, you know what I mean, right?”

Dustin chewed his cheek for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I guess.”

That seemed to be enough for Harrington. “Now get back to your game and let me wallow in here in peace.” Harrington said, disappearing back into the dark bathroom.

Dustin and Mike looked at each other and appeared to come to some sort of agreement telepathically. They shook hands and looked at Eddie.

“Sorry for derailing the session.” Dustin offered.

Eddie blinked a couple times, realizing he was once again one of the players in the scene, not just an observer. “Oh it’s fine, I’m just counting all the time you spent out here as time your characters were in the shrinking room.” He put a devilish smile on his face and watched as they scrambled back to the drama room.

As he followed them, he saw Buckley rushing down the hall.

“Where is he?” She asked. She looked frazzled with her pajama pants, an oversized sweatshirt (emblazoned with “Hawkins Basketball”, he noted), and a plastic bag overflowing with an assortment of things like lotions, and ice packs, and several items Eddie couldn’t identify.

He pointed her down the hallway and watched her shuffle away. He burst back through the classroom door, less panicked, but with much to think about.

“Well boys, where were we?”

[radioactivedadbod]

Coming out of a major depressive episode has the same vibe as Neo waking up from the simulation for the first time and just jolting out of his pod

[misctf]

I love your VR drone tf so much. Being transformed and controled by the hive mind is just so hot!

A sequel to Careful with VR (hypnosis, muscle growth). Glad you liked it! I have a few asks to still get through, but slowly working on them!

“I ain’t gay.” Joey whispers to himself, “Jus’ curious.” He continues, staring closely at the VR headset, “Fuckin’ Derek.” He grumbles, his words garnished with his typical southern accent, “Nobody’ll find out.” He reassures himself.

He was taken aback when Derek came out as gay. In hindsight, there were signs. Even Joey couldn’t help but admit that his buddy was attractive- he should’ve had no issues hooking up with some sorority bimbo at all the frat mixers. But he always brushed them off, never really trying with women.

“You better not be pullin’ my leg.” He thinks, placing the wrist and ankle cuffs on, “Gosh darn, this feels gay already.” Joey holds up what looks like a waist-trainer and chuckles, “Paid all this for Hive X and this is the best they got.”

It was only a few days prior when his buddy came out and Joey couldn’t seem to comprehend it. He berated him with questions, “are you sure?” and “why would you fuck around with men? Haven’t you ever squeezed a pair of tits?” And they kept coming. Derek was never the type to get angry, but Joey could tell his questioning was bothering him.

“Trust me,” Derek finally said, “men are 1000 times better at sucking dick than chicks. And don’t even get me started on the male G spot.”

Joey couldn’t believe that- the very thought of letting some guy wrap his mouth around his dick... it felt wrong. He didn’t even want to get started on anal. But as he sat in his room, thinking more on Derek’s words, he grew more curious. Derek wasn’t gonna suck him off, and the idea of letting some actual guy in real life do it felt wrong. But it kept nagging at him.

“Can’t believe they got it here so quick.” Joey picked up the headset, “Only two hours after I ordered it. Talk about efficiency.”

If he felt put off by the real deal, he figured a VR experience would suffice. Besides, once he proved it to himself, he’d know Derek was full of shit. And with a smirk, he entered the world of Hive X. It was strange- Joey realized that the cold air of his apartment no longer bothered him. Instead, he was greeted by the warmth of a fireplace.  

“Oh god.” He quickly went to cover his junk, realizing he was naked, “Seriously?” He looked around and sighed, “Guess ain’t nobody around, besides...” He let his arms rest at his sides, “Sure they’ll appreciate the show.”

He wandered down a lengthy hallway, walking past various numbered rooms. There was no indication of anything that went on behind those doors- he was just glad he hadn’t bumped into anyone yet.

“Welcome to Hive X.” Joey jumped and turned to see a normal looking, fully dressed man standing behind him, “You appear lost. I am NPC 202. I am programmed to assist guests find their desired location.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for anything special.” Joey replied, “Just gotta prove to my gay friend that men don’t know how to treat another man right.” NPC 202 cocked his head, “Jesus, I’m sayin’ gays...”

“On assessment of user preferences and subconscious, I’ve determined your ideal experience and NPC.” NPC 202 replied, “Please follow me to room 506.”

“Subconscious?” Joey raised an eyebrow, “And what...” But the NPC was already walking off, “Ain’t nothin’ in my subconscious” He reassured himself, before following behind his guide.

“Please enjoy.” NPC 202 says, standing outside room 506.  

Joey nods, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to let some guy suck him off? He could feel his dick getting hard at the thought, part of him feeling ashamed at his response. But with a heavy sigh, he entered the room. He nearly jumped when the door closed behind him, but he tried to keep his cool. The room was nothing special- it looked like a typical hotel room. But then he heard it- the lumbering footsteps.

“So you’re the guy.” Joey’s eyes widened when the NPC made its appearance, “I’m NPC 719.”

Its voice was gruff and commanding. It was taller than Joey, and far bulkier. A mat of body hair covered its chest and abdomen- its beard framing its face. Its eyes were dull, drinking in the sight of the leaner, toned man in front of it.

“You don’t think a man can make another man cum, right?” It approached Joey, and Joey could only stare, “You wanted to prove that to your friend, right?”

“Yessir.” Joey whispered as NPC 719 pressed him against the door, its musk invading Joey’s nostrils, his dick now stirring even more, growing harder.

“You’re in the right place.”

It happened quickly- the man picked Joey up and threw him onto the bed. Joey’s eyes widened as the NPC’s mouth wrapped around his cock. It was aggressive, and Joey couldn’t help but moan as his dick throbbed with pleasure. Joey’s mind was in shambles- he never... he never felt this good. There was no comparison. The sensation around his dick was so intense, his eyes rolling back in his head. And this went on and on... and on some more.

“Pl-please...” Joey gasped, his balls aching, “I need to...”

“This NPC and room are designed for edging only.” NPC 719’s voice was monotone now, “This was determined to meet your needs.”

“But I....” Joey couldn’t finish- another moan escaped his lips as NPC 719 continued to suck him off.

And in the intensity of his pleasure, Joey could feel his legs being pushed up over his head. His eyes widened as he watched NPC 719 line its massive cock up with his virgin hole. Part of him wanted to say no. To resist. But another part of him... another part of him wanted this. He wanted to feel what Derek meant by the male G spot...

“Oh fuck....” He gasped as NPC 719 entered him, its hips rhythmically moving, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, “Oh god... fuck... please...” He never felt this way- this stimulated. Yet he couldn’t cum. His balls ached bad now, his cock throbbing desperately.

“Conclude experience or initiate NPC trial period.” NPC 719 said, while still pounding Joey’s ass, “This will allow user to experience climax and additional unlimited NPC sessions.”   

Joey could barely process the words or understand what they meant. But he did know that it sounded like whatever this trial period was would let him finally release. He needed this. He needed to feel release. Fuck it- didn’t matter if Derek was right...

“Trial period.... oh god please....” He moaned.

NPC 719 stopped and Joey looked up at it with needy, desperate eyes. Before he could ask why it stopped, he felt a searing pain in his arms and legs. He grabbed at them to no avail, writhing as his body was slowly digitized. But what scared him even more was the apparent changes. As the digitization process moved along his arms, he watched as they lost their muscle- becoming slender and more feminine. His abs becoming smooth, his pecs deflating.

“No please... I didn’t!” He grabbed at his neck- his voice. Gone was his southern twang- his voice higher, desperate, and slutty, “Oh god I don’t....”

He moaned again as pain exploded from his backside as his ass expanded- inflating into an irresistible bubble butt- perfect for squeezing and fucking. NPC 719 grabbed a fistful of his new ass and grins, watching as his body hair and facial hair vanish- Joey’s face and lips shifting into that of a pouty, desperate slut.

“Initiating directives.”

Joey’s jaw goes slack and eyes dim as the mainframe connects to his mind. Memories are sifted through and repressed. His repressed homosexual desires unleashed. His pleasure receptors enhanced to mind numbing degrees. Joey can feel his name vanish from his mind, replaced with his new designation- NPC 904. His directives clear. His ass was to be used by visitors to Hive X. He would serve them obediently and in doing so would be allowed to cum. Any sense of resistance or fear being overcome by devout obedience and pride in his servitude.

“I am NPC 904.” It said, “Serving is pleasure. Being used is pleasure. I am loyal to the Hive.” It continued.

NPC 719 watched as NPC 904 was led away, a wave of pleasure from the Hive rewarding NPC 719 for a successful acquisition. Meanwhile, NPC 904 was led into its new room, the warm water from the shower caressing its sensitive body. It grew familiar with itself, squeezing its juicy ass, teasing a sensitive nipple. It couldn’t wait to meet the first guy who entered. And luckily for NPC 904, it wouldn’t be waiting too long.

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

[PART FIVE]

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[mamayura]

What I find interesting about Adrien's new room is not only how empty it is (duh), but that we know thanks to episode 5, Werepapas, that Adrien's old room very much is still there and fully furnished:

And mind you, its even more colorful of a kid's dream bedroom as before. On its own, there is nothing here that visually implies that the problem is that Adrien wasn't allowed to express himself in his room whatsoever. Even if there were limitations, he clearly got to break free from the colorless museum that was the Agreste Mansion.

So clearly, that's not the main problem at hand.

And this comes with interesting implications, especially because Werepapas also confirms to us that the Agreste Mansion having a new design is not just a thing we are supposed to accept as it is now because of the new story arc and art style (the way we are most likely supposed to not question why Marinette's home looks different). The flashback explicitly shows the Mansion in its old design while in the present time it's in the new design (I don't have ideal images to show that off right now, sorry):

So the Mansion having been renovated happened for real in the story. It's diegetic.

BUT, we already saw that Gabriel's office hasn't been changed, same as Emilie's old room:

These are all information we got thanks to "Werepapas" and it puts the ending of "Climatiqueen" into perspective when Adrien avoids going home and instead starts running away because that's what feels right to him in that moment:

It all amounts to what I can't imagine as anything else but immense pressure to deal with your grief while also getting no fraction of closure with eveything awful that happened to you in that home because that very home was your prison and now.. changed... but not entirely because all the main rooms that caused you so much pain are still there, but it's muddy because you don't know how to feel about anything, especially because they are now all that's left feeling FAMILIAR in your home, so no shit you're drawn to them:

I gotta be honest. The way the Mansion is being shown as this mixture of completely new and everything painful still being there as mementos already hurts me as a viewer. I can't imagine what Adrien must be feeling.

And that manifests best in his rooms. Cause, yeah, it's not just A room Adrien can't decide on, he has TWO rooms because he's that conflicted:

Clearly part of him WANTS to start anew and forget the pain of his old room by moving into a new one, but at the same time, Adrien's old room is still THERE. Untouched. He can go back there anytime and how often or little as he likes.

Adrien's new room isn't furnished yet and of course the first instinct is to say "well, Adrien is a blank slate right now, he has to figure out what he even wants!" and that's not wrong,

But I do wanna raise the question of if Adrien truly WANTS to leave his old room or if he isn't just forced to live in a home right now where it's impossible for him to get closure with the past and move on from his pain to make something better out of it, so he tries to avoid everything as much as possible while also CHANGING as little as possible.

He wants a new room but can't bring himself to even relocate his bed because that would mean he officially moved out of his old room. And that would be yet another big change on top of everything else already.

Or does he even want a whole new room in first place or is his home just such a merciless mixture of unfamiliar new and painful old memories that he can't turn his old room into something new the way he would rather prefer?

Because he wants SOMETHING new, thats clear. But his home changed so much too after everything he already lost that he's not ready to change his old room as well, so he tries to preserve it cause that's all he can do to hold onto some of the past to retain some familiarity he can hold onto, even if it means he can't actually LIVE in the room he wants right now?

Or does he genuinely not want to ever go back into his old room, but he isn't allowed to make peace with the past and that keeps him from dissembling his old room because then it would truly feel like he lost pretty much his entire childhood home on top of everything else in such a short span of time?

Don't get me wrong, I totally agree with people's instinct being "Adrien's room is empty because she doesn't now yet what he wants". But the way Adrien literally runs away from his home at the end of episode 1 because it feels natural to him to avoid going inside is a bit more than just "Adrien doesn't know what he wants".

That house is a mixture of unfamiliar shiny new and painful memories attached to everything old that remained, and no one gives him the information he needs to deal with ANY of that because it would make THEM uncomfortable to face his feelings and that's deemed more important apparently.

I sure as fuck would be running too

[leahrintarou]

hii i wanted to request like enemies to lovers for dabi x fem!reader when reader is one of the villains in league and she and dabi always hated each other, or more like they love each other but won't admit a shit. and also dabi is always this rude, snarky bitch and then one day they get send together for some mission and he gets injured, like somewhere in the chest and reader has to take care of him and patch him up. and like she decides to be a bitch now and she's like paying him back and she's not gentle at all like she's even rougher than needed just because 😆. but then in the middle of the night when she has to change his bandages she just softens because she's actually worried about him and he kisses her and it's like the first time he feels love in thousands years🥺❤️

✩₊˚.⋆ I HATE YOU - dabi/touya todoroki

CW: swearing, enemies to lovers, dabi being an asshole, y/n is stubborn, they lack communication skills but figure something out in the end lol, mentions of wound stitching, injuries, dabi's daddy issues, quirk usage, a lot of arguing. Word Count: 4.7k Author's Note: hii, sorry for taking so long to write this lol. my schedule was busy as hell. i hope you all enjoy it tho! ty for reading and if you have any requests for me to write, send it in!

"hate."

it was a word that held so much meaning and although y/n wasn't the type to feel it for many things, as she looked at the man standing in her doorframe with a bored expression as she laid in bed, it was all she could feel.

"what do you want touya? im tired." she groaned into her pillow. he rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. "shigaraki wants us to take care of something for him." he said, making y/n shift to sit up and face him properly. "together?" she questioned. dabi didn't answer and that alone make y/n feel dread in the pit of her stomach. she stood, walking to her door and pushing past dabi to find shigaraki who was sitting in the lobby of their hideout.

"tomura, you seriously sending out touya and i? it's late."

"exactly." he muttered, glancing at y/n as dabi showed up behind her. "given your quirks, i need you two to cause a distraction for me in the city. I've gotta get something from a hero guarded area. it'd be less bothersome if a few of them had to focus a bigger situation."

y/n sighed at that. her ability allowed her to use the quirks others. once she makes physical contact with them, a pill is produced and once ingested, she is able to use their quirk for up to half an hour. "why can't he just do it on his own?"

"because it wont be enough, y/n. just go and don't let you guys' odd relationship fuck anything up."

she glared at shigaraki due to his stern tone and the words he said overall. she didn't speak another words and only walked towards the exit, leaving dabi behind. she began walking off, sighing when dabi caught up next to her.

they walked shoulder to shoulder and y/n reached for his hand to which he pulled away imeedietly. "the fuck is your deal?"

"my deal is that i need your quick. stop bitching."

he gave her a look that almost burned through her being itself. "fine, whatever. just make it quick."

with a swift movement, y/n grabbed his wrist, her fingers just brushing against his skin. she felt the pill form in her palm and quickly swallowed it after placing it on her tongue. for the next thirty minutes, she had full control over dabi's blue flames.

dabi shook off her touch as soon as the transfer was done, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "hope you can handle it."

y/n clenched her fists, feeling the raw power simmering just beneath the surface. "i can handle your little fire tricks just fine."

they continued walking in silence, the tension between them thick, both preparing for the chaos they were about to unleash. the city lights ahead glowed brighter as they approached, a signal that they were nearing their destination. heroes patrolled these streets regularly, and they needed to make their distraction count.

"you take the east side. i’ll take the west. we meet back here once it's done," y/n said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline starting to pump through her veins.

dabi gave her a lazy nod, his eyes scanning the area.  "don’t burn the place down too fast." she said, voice sharp with a stern tone.

“take your own damn advice,” dabi sneered, turning on his heel without another glance, heading toward his side of the city.

y/n scowled at his retreating figure before focusing on her own task. she approached a crowded intersection, raising her hand as the blue flames sparked to life at her fingertips. they burned cold, unnatural, just like dabi’s. with a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent the fire roaring down the street, igniting everything in its path. cars exploded, storefronts erupted into flames, and terrified screams echoed through the night air.

sirens blared almost immediately. she sighed in frustration. this mission wasn’t the problem; it was having to work alongside dabi. she hated the way his flames felt inside her—too raw, too unstable. she could handle it, but the discomfort gnawed at her.

on the other side of the city, she could see dabi causing just as much destruction. his blue flames lit up the night sky, and even from a distance, she could feel their heat. as much as she despised him, she couldn’t deny the sheer force of his quirk. their fires painted the city in an eerie blue glow, chaos unfolding just as shigaraki had planned. every hero in the area would soon be rushing their way.

but despite the destruction, y/n could feel the strain. her body wasn’t built to handle dabi’s flames for too long, and each second was like a slow burn from the inside out. she clenched her teeth, refusing to show any weakness. not in front of him. never in front of him.

as another car exploded in front of her, y/n felt the flames flare uncontrollably for a moment, forcing her to stumble back. she quickly reined them in, but the effort was draining. she could hear the distant thrum of footsteps—heroes were coming, and they needed to keep the distraction going.

without warning, dabi appeared beside her, his usual bored expression replaced by a smirk that only fueled her irritation. "you’re pushing it too hard," he remarked coldly.

"i’m fine," y/n snapped, her voice sharper than intended, though there was a slight tremor beneath it.

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "doesn’t look like it. you’re burning out."

"i said i’m fine," she repeated, venom in her tone. she forced the flames to obey her, though her body screamed in protest.

before he could say anything more, the ground around them rumbled. the heat in the air intensified, and y/n’s heart sank as she saw who had arrived—endeavor.

out of all the heroes, of course, it had to be him.

endeavor’s flames blazed brighter than anything y/n had seen, casting long shadows across the wreckage. his eyes locked onto dabi and y/n, sharp with recognition and disgust. “enough,” he barked, his voice deep and commanding. “this ends now.”

dabi’s expression darkened, but the smirk that stretched across his face was nothing short of malicious.

y/n swallowed, the tension between father and son palpable in the air. she could feel dabi’s flames still swirling inside her, unstable and dangerous. they were running out of time. they needed to keep endeavor distracted long enough for shigaraki to finish the mission, but with the fire slipping out of her control, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on.

dabi moved forward, the flames on his body flickering angrily as he faced his father head-on. "you gonna try and stop me? i’d love to see you fail. again."

y/n watched as the two squared off, the heat between them almost unbearable. she could feel the pressure mounting, knowing she had to act fast, but part of her was consumed by the sheer hatred radiating from dabi. it was so intense it was suffocating. he wants this fight, she realized.

but right now, they couldn’t afford it. not with the mission still in play.

"touya, focus," she hissed under her breath, stepping up beside him. "we’re not here for this."

he barely spared her a glance, his jaw clenched. “shut up, y/n. stay out of it.”

y/n glared at him, biting back the retort that bubbled in her throat. as much as she despised him, she wasn’t about to let him throw the entire mission away for some personal grudge.

endeavor’s flames flared even brighter, his voice booming as he addressed dabi directly. "you’re not walking away from this one."

"we’ll see about that," dabi said through a sigh.

before either of them could make a move, y/n raised her hand, sending up a barrier of blue flames between dabi and endeavor. the fire crackled wildly, the heat forcing both men to step back.

“touya, get your shit together,” she snapped, glaring at him. “this isn’t about you and him right now. we’ve got a job to finish.”

dabi’s eyes widened with fury, his body rigid with anger. "are you serious right now? stay out of this, y/n. this has nothing to do with you."

“it has everything to do with me,” she shot back, her voice low. “if you screw this up, we’re both dead.”

“i’m not screwing anything up,” dabi growled, stepping toward her, his flames flaring dangerously. “you think I’m gonna pass up a chance to burn that bastard?” he gestured toward endeavor, who stood on the other side of the wall, watching them closely. "this isn’t just about some stupid distraction. it’s him."

y/n’s hands trembled slightly from the strain of maintaining the flames, but she refused to back down. “you think i care about your daddy issues right now? i’m not dying because you’ve got something to prove.”

dabi’s smirk twisted into a sneer, his voice dripping with venom. "oh, now you’re concerned about dying? cute. you can’t even handle my flames, and you want to play hero? don’t act like you can lecture me."

y/n’s temper flared. "i can handle more than you think, but i’m not stupid enough to throw everything away for some pointless grudge! shigaraki will kill us if you mess this up."

“i don’t care what shigaraki does,” dabi snarled, stepping even closer, his body practically vibrating with heat. “you think I’m afraid of him? of you? you’re out of your league, y/n. stay the hell out of my way.”

---

"touya, lets go!" she shouted. a few long minutes had passed by and both dabi and endeavor suffered injuries. y/n thought that it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, but it wasn’t. there on dabi’s chest was a large gash that spilled blood with every movement he made.

dabi didn’t even flinch, seemingly blinded by his rage. his eyes were locked onto endeavor, and the hatred burned hotter than the flames between them. y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. if they didn’t leave now, it would be too late.

“touya!” she screamed again, but her voice was lost in the roar of the fire and the madness of the fight. dabi was deaf to everything around him. his focus, his obsession with his father, drowned out any reason or sense.

just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket. she fumbled for it, hands shaking, and saw a message from

shigaraki: get out of there now. i’m done here.

her stomach dropped. they needed to leave. now.

she looked back at dabi, her gut twisting with panic. there was no way he could handle another attack in his state. endeavor was gearing up for something big—his flames surging brighter and hotter, ready to end this once and for all.

y/n didn’t even think; she reacted. she reached for dabi’s flames still coursing through her and launched herself forward. her body screamed in protest, the quirk tearing through her reserves, but she unleashed a massive wave of blue fire directly at endeavor. it wasn’t just dabi’s quirk she was using—she’d stored another teleportation quirk earlier in the week just in case. with a strained breath, she activated it.

in an instant, the world blurred, and she and dabi were pulled through space, landing back at the league’s hideout.

they collapsed on the floor. y/n's vision swam as the overwhelming strain of using both quirks at once hit her like a truck. every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire.

dabi was up almost immediately, his eyes wild and furious. “what the hell did you do?!” he roared, looming over her, his chest heaving.

y/n didn’t flinch, didn’t even respond. she just sat there, catching her breath, her eyes glazed with exhaustion and a cold, blank expression on her face.

“why the hell would you—” dabi continued, his voice a mix of anger and something else, something more vulnerable. but y/n didn’t care.

she stood, her legs shaking but her face expressionless. she looked him dead in the eye, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with a venomous calm. "hate."

dabi paused, caught off guard by the single word. his eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent.

“it’s what you live for, isn’t it?” she continued, her voice as cold as the flames she had just wielded. “but it’s going to kill you. and you were too blinded to see it.”

the silence between them was suffocating, tension hanging in the air like the weight of all their unresolved fury and pain. dabi’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer, but he didn’t respond. he couldn’t, not with the truth staring him in the face.

y/n finally turned her back to him, her voice distant as she walked away. "i’m tired, touya. i don’t care anymore."

he didn’t respond and that was unlike him. and although she didn't want it to, she turned around to glance at him. he was clutching the wounded area of his chest, the blood coating his hands. y/n stopped in her tracks and watched as he held her gaze with a heavy glare. "what?" he groaned with less heat in his voice.

"nothi-"

"they got you good." shigaraki said as he entered through the front door. dabi remained silent and y/n let out a sigh. "told you this plan was stupid." she muttered. shigaraki shrugged, holding up some sort of vile in a glass tube. "got what i needed though. thanks."

y/n shook her head and walked over to a table in their hideout where a first aid kit remained. "come on, touya." he never said a word despite their previous argument and the heated tension that remained between them and only followed behind y/n. this was surprising to her and even shigaraki. instead of questioning it though, she just decided to let it be, grateful for the silence.

they got to a nearby bathroom in the hideout, and y/n motioned for dabi to sit on the edge of the sink. "take off your shirt," she ordered, her voice flat, though she couldn’t help the slight irritation lacing her tone. dabi raised an eyebrow but said nothing, peeling off his tattered shirt to reveal the nasty gash on his chest. the wound was deep, the blood still seeping through the cracks of his burned skin.

“so fucking reckless” y/n muttered underneath her breath as she grabbed some antiseptic and gauze from the first aid kit. she didn’t wait for a response before starting to clean the wound, her hands rougher than necessary. dabi hissed in pain but didn’t pull away.

“watch it,” he growled, but there was no real heat in his words. his eyes, usually filled with spite or disinterest, softened for a brief moment as he looked at her. something shifted in his expression, like an apology he wasn’t quite ready to say aloud. instead, he settled for his usual sarcasm. "you don’t have to be so damn rough."

"oh, i’m sorry," y/n replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she pressed a little harder than needed on the wound. "is the fireproof bastard too delicate for a little first aid? if you didn’t want to get patched up, you shouldn’t have gone toe-to-toe with endeavor.

"i didn’t ask for your help, did i?"

"no, you didn’t. but here we are," y/n snapped, stitching up the wound with more force than was probably necessary. her fingers worked quickly, efficiently, but there was no gentleness in her touch.

dabi’s breath hitched as she tugged at the stitches. "you’re enjoying this way too much."

“maybe,” y/n replied, not looking up from her work. “or maybe i’m just pissed off because you almost got yourself killed. again.”

the room fell into a tense silence, only broken by dabi’s sharp breaths and the sound of her sewing needle pulling through his skin. but when y/n finally looked up, she caught dabi’s gaze. his eyes were softer now, not filled with the usual defiance. instead, there was something different in them, something almost… regretful.

“what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "you’re staring."

“nothing,” dabi muttered, but he didn’t look away. his voice, usually laced with sarcasm or anger, was quieter now. he held her gaze for a moment longer. it wasn’t filled with the usual hate or resentment, but something else entirely. it almost looked like an apology, unspoken but there. maybe he realized just how close he’d come to death, and for once, wasn’t pushing her away.

after the final stitch, y/n wrapped the wound tightly, her hands no longer rough but steady. she didn’t say anything for a moment, just focusing on her work, and when she was done, she stood back, her eyes meeting his again. the air between them felt heavy, like there was something unspoken lingering just beneath the surface.

“you’re a reckless idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head, though her voice was softer, the anger dissipating into something more resigned.

dabi’s expression faltered, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his usual sharp retorts gone. "guess i am," he said quietly, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "but you still patched me up, didn’t you?"

y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "only because i wasn’t going to let you bleed out like an idiot. someone’s gotta keep you alive."

there was a beat of silence before dabi let out a breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “guess i should thank you.”

y/n scoffed. “don’t bother. just… try not to get yourself killed next time.”

dabi’s eyes flickered to hers again, and this time, there was no sarcasm or sneer, just a tired acceptance. “i’ll try.” his tone was surprisingly sincere, catching her off guard. she blinked, taken aback, but instead of saying anything, she just grabbed the bloodied cloths and turned to leave. "get some rest," she muttered, not looking back.

for once, dabi didn’t argue.

---

it was the middle of the night, and despite the quiet that had settled over the hideout, y/n couldn’t sleep. no matter how many times she turned over in bed, sleep evaded her. the events from earlier kept playing over in her mind, along with the way dabi had been uncharacteristically silent after she patched him up.

with a frustrated sigh, she finally gave up on resting and pushed herself out of bed. maybe checking on dabi would settle her thoughts. his injuries needed to be looked at again anyway, and the bandages likely needed changing. she grabbed the first aid kit and padded softly down the hall toward his room.

when she got there, the door was slightly ajar. peeking inside, she saw him lying on the bed, his defined back rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. for a moment, she hesitated. dabi was never one to sleep deeply, always waking up at the slightest noise or movement. but his bandages had to be changed, and she didn’t trust him to do it himself.

quietly, she slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her. she approached the bed, taking a seat on the edge as carefully as she could to avoid waking him. he was still, his usual guarded expression replaced by something softer in sleep. for a brief second, she allowed herself to just watch him. he always seemed so hardened, so untouchable, but like this... he looked almost human.

gently, y/n reached for the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his chest, her fingers working carefully to undo them. she peeled the old wrappings away, revealing the wound beneath. she grabbed fresh bandages from the kit, preparing to rewrap him, her movements slow and deliberate.

just as she began to wind the bandage around him again, dabi stirred. his eyes snapped open, instantly alert, and his hand shot out to grab her wrist before she could move any further. “what the hell are you doing?” he growled, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

y/n froze, meeting his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. "relax, it’s just me," she said quietly. "im checking to see if your stitches held and I've gotta change your bandages."

he blinked, still groggy but releasing her wrist. his grip loosened, and he leaned back against the pillow, eyes narrowing slightly but without the usual hostility. "im not a child. i can do that myself,” he muttered, though there wasn’t much bite to his words.

"i know, but you looked like you were going to bleed out earlier so forgive me for double-checking." she retorted, continuing to wrap the fresh bandages around his chest. her touch was gentle but firm, and dabi didn’t stop her this time, watching her work in silence.

"always playing the martyr, huh?" he mumbled after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "not a martyr. just realistic. you're reckless and you know it."

dabi was silent as she finished up. he sat up once she was done and watched as she placed the items back into the first aid kit. "why are you up so late anyways?"

"couldn’t sleep." she shrugged. dabi raised a questioning brow and she shrugged. "you expect me to sleep after everything that happened today?"

"causing chaos isn't something that you haven't done before though." he hummed, watching as she compiled all of the used bandage together to throw away. "but watching you almost get yourself killed was."

"you really care that much?"

y/n lowered her eyes at him and shook her head in pure disbelief. "no shit, touya. why would i have teleported us home? stitch up your wound, and even hours later, i come back to check on you. you sound so fucking selfish right now." she stood up, turning to walk away, but dabi reached for her wrist.

he caught it just in time, letting out a small groan from the swift movement. "what the fuck, touya. be careful." she said, placing the first aid kit down and a hand to his back. "im not selfish."

"really?" she deadpanned. "y/n, you've hated me ever since i joined the league. understand me when i get confused on whether or not you actually give a fuck when it comes to me." he ran is palm down his face, trying to fight his exhaustion.

"i can say the same for you." y/n spoke.

"i only return the attitude that's given to me." dabi said, staring at y/n as she tried to read his features but he gave her nothing to work with other than an emotionless expression. "i don't hate you."

"so what do you feel, y/n? you're not making sense."

she stared at him and they held eye contact. y/n let down whatever guards she had up in hopes that dabi can read what she was trying to tell him. he was good at that whether she liked it or not. "say it." he finally said. y/n figured that he got the idea in just mere seconds.

"no." she shook her head with a scoff. "i hate the fact that i feel it for you anyways. I'm not going to speak it into reality."

dabi’s grip on y/n’s wrist loosened as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “you really think not saying it makes a difference? you’ve already given yourself away, y/n.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with irritation. “you don’t get it. saying it makes it real, and i can’t deal with that right now.”

dabi scoffed, leaning back on the bed, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at her. “oh, spare me the drama. you think i don’t know how you feel? you act like you’re the only one here who’s conflicted.”

y/n glared at him, yanking her wrist free. “conflicted? you? you barely even acknowledge when people care about you. you’re reckless with your life, like nothing matters, and you think i’m the one being dramatic?” her voice rose, frustration bubbling over.

dabi sat up straighter, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “don’t pretend like you’ve been so open about your feelings either, y/n. you’ve spent most of your time pushing me away or acting like you couldn’t care less. and now, when it actually matters, you wanna play the martyr?”

her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “i’m not playing anything, touya! you’re impossible to deal with. you push everyone away, you never let anyone in, and now you have the nerve to act like i’m the problem?”

dabi’s expression hardened, his eyes flashing with anger. “you really think you’ve got me all figured out, huh? like you’re the only one who’s allowed to have their guard up? newsflash, y/n, you’re not as mysterious as you think.”

y/n’s frustration boiled over as she crossed her arms and shot him a withering glare. “then what do you want from me, touya? huh? what is it you actually want? because all you ever do is act like nothing gets to you!”

dabi stood up abruptly, towering over her as the tension between them thickened. “you think it’s easy for me to be like this? you think i enjoy pushing people away?” his voice was low, dangerous, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and something else y/n couldn’t quite place.

her heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to back down. “then stop doing it! stop acting like you don’t care about anyone or anything!”

“i care more than you think!” dabi snapped, taking a step closer. “but you—you’re always so busy pretending you don’t want this, like it’s all some burden for you!”

y/n’s pulse quickened, her frustration and confusion mounting. “i never said i didn’t want—”

before she could finish, dabi’s hands shot up to either side of her face, pulling her in roughly. his lips crashed against hers with a sudden, fierce intensity that stole the breath from her lungs. the kiss was aggressive, meant to shut her up, and y/n’s mind went blank as every thought evaporated under the force of it.

her body reacted before she could process what was happening, her hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer even as her heart raced with the shock of it all.

dabi’s lips moved against hers, demanding and relentless, and she found herself kissing him back just as fiercely, pouring all her pent-up anger and frustration into the kiss. it was heated, messy, and full of everything they couldn’t say out loud.

he pulled back for a brief moment, their breaths mingling as he muttered, “you talk too damn much.”

before she could respond, he kissed her again, cutting off any retort she might’ve had. his hands slid from her face to her waist, gripping her tightly as if he couldn’t stand to let her go. the anger between them melted into something else entirely—something raw and consuming.

y/n’s heart hammered in her chest as she kissed him back, her hands finding their way to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. the argument, the tension, all of it faded into the background as they lost themselves in the intensity of the moment.

when they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. dabi’s grip on her waist remained firm as he stared down at her, his expression softening just slightly.

“maybe i don’t want you to shut up,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, “but you make it hard to think.”

y/n’s lips parted, still swollen from the kiss, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “then maybe you should start listening,” she whispered, her voice shaky but steady.

dabi let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing lightly against her hip. “yeah, maybe.” his voice dropped even lower as he added, “but that doesn’t mean i’m done shutting you up.”

with that, he pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower but no less intense, as if he was determined to make sure she knew exactly how he felt, even if neither of them were ready to say the words just yet.

she pulled back for a breath, her forehead meeting with his shoulder as she closed her eyes.

"i hate you, touya."

"then hate me more."

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @satorusluvrgirl @tired-jaz

[levemetal]

My work for the Qijiu Secret Santa!

Giftee had multiple prompts but I ended up on"SJ didn't end up on CQ. Their reunion is different than in canon."

Anyway I am now 47384 layers deep into hell another Qijiu AU so more under the cut if you wish to dive in.

So essentially the AU starts simple enough: Everything is the same as in canon, except SJ never makes it out alive out of the Qiu Manor fire. Too embittered and angry to die, he becomes a ghost and sets out to do what he does best, which is survive and claw his way to a spot where he can be safe and not fear others as much. So he becomes a calamity ghost.

On his adventures to find Yue Qi (or what remains of him), he comes across Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and Luo Binghe at different times. Against all odds they stick with him and he doesn't hate it. It's nice to have company even if he reasons the dead are probably not the best company for kids. But he can't just leave them to the slavers. So they are now adopted and his lil ducklings. He finds they are equally unhinged as he is very quickly. The reason they look similar to him here with the veil and all is cause they wanna look like A-die :3 Bingus’s seal gets accidentally destroyed when SJ senses something odd about the boy when meeting him and whoops. Well there goes the seal. Guess they have to take him along now (not that NYY and MF were gonna let him leave without taking Bingo along). I figure this probably has good consequences on Bongo’s self confidence issues as he would learn early on that being half demon does not mean he’s evil. Afterall his A-die is literally a ghost.

YQY still becomes sect leader, albeit a very, very depressed one. He killed Wu Yanzi at the IAC but SJ wasn't there this time. He wants to die but is stopped at every corner by either his Shizun or fellow sect siblings. A few years later, at one of the disciple selections, he sees a boy with a strong resemblance to SJ and picks him up immediately, hoping him to be either a relative or reincarnation. Either way, that's his son and sole reason for living now. Said son is the transmigrated Shen Yuan who is very much confused about the current state of the plot (wdym SQQ is not there?? Who is that QJPL? Where's Binghe??)

Anyway the ducklings weren't necessary but happened anyway so. Figured I'd mention them. One day Yqy goes on a nighthunt with Shen Yuan which then leads them into Ghost City by accident. And lo and behold who he runs into.

They reunite, probably take a while to sort their shit out and now Yqy's sect siblings just gotta deal with Zhangmen-Shixiong having an emotional support calamity ghost and husband and 3 new kids. (Mqf counts this as a net positive since at least he doesn't have to guard Yqy's sword anymore lest his shixiong pulls it out. Liu Qingge is Conflicted and takes a bit to get the memo. He DOES enjoy sparring with the calamity tho eventually.)

Apologies for recycling my one calamity SJ design but I am perpetually tired and couldn't think of anything different. And I am sorry for once again making a calamity SJ AU. I notice a pattern. Unfortunately I possess no illusions of having any control over my life.

Maybe one day I get around to fic writing I'll write this and the 37288483 AUs I have... but first, bonus sketches:

[panerasbox]

—HURTING EACH OTHER; 27 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Word count: 1,032.

summary: prompt by @babytakeittothehead “The reader and Melissa are living together and have a big fight about something the other said. And now they have to find their way back to each other saying what hurt them.”

A/N: I am actually behind, so sorry, so there’s only 25 days to go! I will be posting 2 more oneshots today to catch up. Sorry if it isn’t great, I’m behind and almost rushing at this point!

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERPOST

The quiet in the apartment wasn't peaceful. It was thick, heavy, like the humid Philly summer air clinging to everything, even pushing through the cracked kitchen window. The cheap clock above the stove ticked, loud in the silence, feeling less like time passing and more like a damn countdown. To what, neither of you knew.

Melissa was attacking a dinner plate at the sink like it owed her money. Her back was to you, shoulders bunched tight. You were parked at the little kitchen table, arms crossed, the ghost of her words from two hours ago still ringing in your ears.

“You never listen, y’know? Not really.”

That one had landed like a cheap shot.

And yeah, maybe you’d fired back with something equally charming, like, “Maybe if you actually said what was wrong instead of makin’ me guess, I would.”

So here you were. Stuck. Moving around each other in the small space like strangers who accidentally rented the same Airbnb.

You watched the stiff line of her jaw, the jerky way she moved. She hadn't actually looked at you since she stormed back in from her cool-down walk – the one she took so she wouldn’t, in her words, "say somethin' really stupid." You'd stayed, pacing the worn patch of carpet by the couch, replaying every damn second.

This wasn't just about tonight. It was the stuff that had been simmering for weeks. Her habit of waving things off with a grunt or a sarcastic joke. Your tendency to poke, to push when you felt that wall go up. Stubborn wasn't a strong enough word for either of you. You loved each other fiercely, yeah, but sometimes that fire just burned the whole place down.

Finally, the silence got too much.

"I'm not a mind reader, Mel," you said, keeping your voice level.

She didn't turn, just kept scrubbing that same, now spotless, plate. The water ran, pointlessly.

"Didn't ask you to be," she muttered, low and gravelly. "Asked you to listen. Big difference."

Okay, ouch. But you held your ground, staying seated. "You said I don't really listen. You stand by that?"

The plate clattered into the drying rack. She finally turned, leaning back against the counter, drying her hands on her jeans. Her eyes looked tired, shadowed.

"I meant," she said, picking her words carefully, "that sometimes I feel like I gotta spell every little damn thing out, letter by letter, or you just… jump ahead. Assume you already know what's goin' on in my head."

You let that sink in. She wasn't entirely wrong. You did try to anticipate, sometimes got ahead of yourself wanting to fix whatever was wrong.

"Okay," you conceded softly. "But sometimes, Mel... sometimes you shut down. You give me one-word answers, a shrug, and expect me to figure out the rest. That’s not fair either, is it?"

Melissa crossed her arms, mirroring your stance from the table. A beat passed, just the hum of the old refrigerator filling the space.

"Look," she sighed, dropping her gaze for a second. "I ain't great at... talkin' about shit that makes me feel weak. Or stupid. Okay? It’s not an excuse, I know, but... that's the deal. Keep your head down, keep movin'. Feelings don't pay the damn rent." A lump formed in your throat. You swallowed it down. "I wasn't asking you to spill your guts or have a breakdown, Mel. I just... I needed to know it wasn't something I did. That I hadn't messed up and made you pull away."

That got through. Her head snapped up, her expression softening almost imperceptibly around the edges.

"Nah," she said, the word rough but definite. "You didn't do anything. It... work sucked today. Big time. And when you asked what was wrong, right when I walked in... I dunno, I felt cornered. Like if I didn't have a good enough reason right then, you'd think I was hiding somethin', or didn't trust you."

Your eyes prickled. Damn it. "I was just trying to help."

"I know," she said, her voice quieter now, losing some of its defensive edge. "And I shouldn't have said that... about the listening. That was low. That was me bein' pissed off and wanting you to feel as shitty as I did."

Slowly, you pushed your chair back and stood up. You walked towards her, not rushing. She watched you, wary, like you were approaching a stray cat she secretly wanted to pet. But this was Melissa – all fire and sharp edges guarding the biggest, most stubborn heart you knew.

"I don't want us hurting each other," you said, stopping just in front of her. Close enough to feel the residual tension radiating off her. "I just want to get you. Even when you don't have the words yet."

She looked up at you, her gaze intense, still guarded, but something else was there too. Vulnerability.

"You get under my skin, you know that?" she murmured, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. Not quite a smile, but close. "But like... in the way I want you to."

A real smile touched your lips this time. "Okay. I'll take that as your version of an apology."

She rolled her eyes, a familiar, exasperated gesture, but the tension in her shoulders eased a fraction.

"Ah, come here," she grumbled, reaching out and pulling you into her arms.

You melted against her, wrapping your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder. She smelled like dish soap and her usual faint perfume. She let out a long breath, a shaky exhale that seemed to drain some of the fight out of her.

"Still kinda mad at you," she mumbled into your hair.

"Right back atcha," you murmured against her shirt. "But I love you more than I'm mad."

A beat passed, then she pressed a quick, firm kiss to your temple. "Good. 'Cause that couch is lumpy as hell, and I ain't sleepin' on it."

You pulled back just enough to smirk at her. "Guess we better make up properly then."

Melissa raised a challenging eyebrow, a spark finally returning to her eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, leaning in. "Definitely."

[thebunnednun]

MHA Guidance Counselor AU Masterlist

Did you ever have a fuck ass guidance counselor or therapist that didn't do shit for you?

Don't worry, we're gonna fic that.

With your favorite mha characters!!

(Puns, but in all seriousness, I am sorry about what you went through and hope that you get the help you deserve. I can't 'fix' things but a silly little fic does wonders.)

What’s this about Angie?

You’ve been dealing with enough stress—academics, family expectations, shitty job, maybe a chaotic personal life—and you need help. A guidance counselor or therapist sounds like the right answer, but we’re not exactly talking about your typical "supportive and competent" staff here.

In this world, you’re dealing with a range of questionable advice, from well-meaning to completely off-base guidance, and advice that might just make you want to scream into a pillow.

At least you're not alone...sort of.

How It Works:

Each guidance counselor or therapist here takes a different approach to “helping.”

Some might be sarcastic, others way too eager, and a few might just be downright unqualified but somehow...well, still helpful? It’s a rollercoaster of chaos and sometimes even a bit of healing, if you can trust the process.

You’ll get to see the types of support each offers (or doesn’t), and maybe, just maybe, you’ll walk away with some real insight. If you’re lucky.

Rules:

You get to choose which counselor you want to go to. It's like a buffet of options! Every counselor has their own style—be prepared for anything.

Feel free to request a specific counselor or approach. Want a very professional, no-nonsense counselor? Or maybe one who's way too into "mindfulness" and could you please just leave me alone? Let me know. All characters are on the table.

No one is perfect. The counselors might mess up. A lot. But the key is they try, and sometimes that’s what counts. Also as your author I myself am only human so please have grace with me.

This is your fic. Your rules. You can ask for any vibe you need, comfort, angst, but we also lean into the humor. After all, we’re in control here... aren't we?

All my readers are gender neutral, but again, if you request something specific I can change that. Fresh soup.

While I don't find myself writing smut I do consider this blog to be 18+ because of the story themes. I do not want minors on my posts because I care about your mental health and sometimes reading certain fics can be damaging and permanently alter you. I don't want that. Your brain chemistry is important. YOU ARE IMPORTANT. So you have been warned. No ageless blogs!

Okay so the fic's are going to start as goes:

Midnight

30 Minutes --- Nemuris only got 30 minutes to work with her favorite stinker, and she's gonna make them count. You just wish you could stop thinking of her as a mom.

Aizawa

In their shoes --- Aizawa's best and brightest troublemaker by far. The only difference is that you don't talk. Ever. Getting you to open up is like trying to bring back the dead. So what can he do?

Take you on a walk outside. Maybe you'll talk, maybe you won't. But he's going to try and make you feel better by the end of it. Even if it's just a tiny bit.

Yamada

Stuck on Mute ---- Mic's gotta figure out how to get his soft spoken new assignment to open up in spite of his loud nature. And it does work! After a near death incident...

Enji

Family Jewels --- Enji comes across a student that's much more like himself than they initially let on. Maybe he's right for the job after all.

Fat Gum

Knock out --- Taishiro swaps assignments with Rumi and finds himself at odds with a student that has anger issues.

Mirko

Respawn? --- Rumi fucked up with her first student and now has a... very shy, kiddo to put it nicely. No idea how to communicate with them. So she hands up her gym bag and picks up a controller.

Hawks

Nap time --- Keigo can't get his new unimpressed spooky student with PTSD to open up after their recent villian attack until he gets personal.

All Might

NOT MY GRANPA --- Yagi finds himself assigned to a student that is every old mans worst fear: A modern trendy alternative teenager. But PLOT TWIST, you have social anxiety. Just like him. Good news, you and Toshinori click instantly and he adores you. You love time with your grandpa figure!

Bad news, you're a fighter and get into a bad situation after a nasty brawl...

More to come soon.

I've got some fic's in the workshop but please request some. If you do request please see my rules page or just DM me and ask.

Overall, this should be a safe space for everyone to enjoy and have fun while reading.

I also have a ko-fi now if you'd like to support me. :3 Not mandatory but always appreciated.

Pssst, my ao3 is alive and open for all readers.

See you soon!

-Angie

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

didn’t realize this was the liberal arts, part 3 (Jason Todd x reader)

After trying and failing to learn why you’re interested in Black Mask’s drug operation, Red Hood follows you to Crime Alley

Part 3 of the college run! Parts 1 and 2 are here

You’re in one of Jason’s college classes, and you’re mean. Then you show up when he’s Red Hood, and guess what, you’re still mean. Swearing, as always, light violence. Reader is still very mean, but now Jason’s having fun.

I don’t know how long this is

———

ENGL205 Literary Touchstones of the Seventeenth Century has been a hell of a lot more fun since Jason’s botched ‘date’ with you.

Date. Was it a date? Or was it a failed reconnaissance op? Yeah, Jason, decides it was a date, but only because it was such a catastrophic failure. He’d only asked you to go for coffee to try and suss you out and he’d learned jack-shit; no new leads on your grudge against Black Mask’s drug dealers.

Hm. A coffee date. That’s why people go on dates, right? To further criminal investigations?

Jason’s gotta find his jokes somewhere.

No new leads, and you’d stormed out of the coffee shop because, by the end, you’d determined you hated him. Yeah, that counts as a date.

Heh. His first date ever, and it sucked ass.

He cracks himself up.

Bad date or not, Jason’s been having a lot more fun in your shared English class. Who knew your inexplicable irritation with him could be such a good time? But it is, and he can’t help provoking you. He doesn’t go too far, at least he thinks he doesn’t, but he does what he can to make you squirm. If there’s a seat next to yours in class, you bet your ass Jason’s taking it. If not, he sits directly across from you. It doesn’t happen every time, and it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it absolutely infuriates you. When he’s next to you, you all but kick him under the table, and when he’s across from you, you glare at him for the entire hour and twenty minutes. Jason has absolutely no idea what he did to piss you off, but he’s not one to walk away from a good time.

It’s not just where he sits, either, Jason takes it upon himself to disagree with you as much as possible in class discussion. At first, he tried to counter every point you make, but he quickly realized he can’t because, uh oh, you make pretty good points. But he gets creative, he plays a lot of Devil’s Advocate, and more than one discussion has devolved into you borderline yelling at him. It’s oh, so fun.

Once, he actually forced you to agree with him. You looked so physically ill when you conceded that Jason couldn’t help smirking at you. He’s been a little stuck on how you rolled your eyes but nodded at him, lips pursed like you’d had a sour candy on your tongue. Jason’s the only one in the class who can get you to look like that. The other students probably think you two are fucking or something. Whatever. Jason doesn’t care, he’s having the time of his life.

Given how much he’s torturing you, there’s no way he’ll get anything out of you as Jason. He’s gotta investigate you as Red Hood. Two nights after your “coffee date,” he stakes out your apartment. Kind of creepy, but he doesn’t feel like he has a choice. Besides, he’s pretty sure you’re going to make some other move against Black Mask’s drug enterprise, and he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

Figuring you out isn’t the only thing on his docket, like you, Jason wants to know what’s up with Black Mask. There’s been some rumblings about fentanyl, and Jason’s seen some overdoses in alleyways. He wants to keep that shit from getting dumped on the street.

Settling in for the stakeout, Jason thinks back to the ledger he’d found when he’d met you beating the shit out of his man. Poor Nelson Willis. Jason was interested in him, too, he was wrapped up in Black Mask’s network. Willis’ ledger was a goldmine, it gave him an in to Black Mask’s Crime Alley operation.

Almost as interesting as when you’d stolen the book from his hands and threatened him at gunpoint so you could look at it.

You’ve got balls, Jason’ll give you that. But balls aren’t enough to protect you, and Jason’s got a hunch you’re walking into deep shit.

Sure enough, there you are, sneaking off into the night. He follows you from a distance. Like the last time he tailed you, you choose to walk. It takes you half an hour—why don’t you just get on the bus?—but finally, you reach your destination: an apartment complex on the fringe of Crime Alley. Jason’s checked; this is one of the addresses in the ledger

Seems he was right to follow you.

Jason perches himself on a nearby rooftop and watches you scale the fire escape. You do it in easy, practiced movements; you’re clearly in shape. And you’d told him you had a history of martial arts, the one thing of value he’d gotten from his ‘date.’

His eyes linger as you grip the iron bar and heave yourself onto the metal ledge.

Huh.

Jason shakes his head. No time for that now, whatever that even is.

Jason’s startled by the sound of glass breaking. Holy shit, did you just break in through the window? You’re not even going to try the locks?

He quickly grapples himself to the building, landing on the fire escape one floor above you. Grunting, he hooks his knees over the bars of the grate and swings himself down so he can peer into the window, hopefully without you noticing.

His abs creak. Be a lot easier if he were Dick.

Squinting through the helmet, Jason tracks your movement inside. It’s dark, and despite your rough entry, you’re being careful, trying to disturb as little as possible. He spies a crappy table in the corner with some papers on it and watches you lock onto it. You move over eagerly, rustling through the papers.

Jason plans to watch you work for now, he’ll get his crack at the papers in a bit. But the plan falls to shit as he picks up on faint movement in another room.

Fuck. Someone else is here. And you don’t seem to realize it. He’s gonna have to make a move.

Just as he’s leveraging himself down from the fire escape, you freeze, picking your head up. Dropping the papers in your hand, you shift into a fighting stance. Jason rights himself just as the person enters the room. It’s a man and shit, he’s got a gun cocked.

The bullet fires and Jason vaults into the room, gun in hand. He takes a shot at the assailant on his way in, but gets distracted when you drop to the floor.

Fuck fuck. Did you get hit? What kind of shitty rescue knight is he?

Jason fires another wide shot and turns to you, heart in his stomach, but no, you aren’t down and out, you had just dodged. He calls out to you, and gestures toward the window. Take cover, get out. I’ve got this handled.

You turn up your nose and sprint toward the gunman.

Well, shit. That is not what Jason wanted.

He fires another shot at the man who ducks out of range and aims for Jason again. Before he can pull the trigger, you reach him and punch him in the face. The shot is impressive, you clean break his nose. But Jason doesn’t have time to admire you because the man turns to you and hits you with the butt of his gun, knocking you cruelly in the head.

This time, you do fall, and Jason wants to throw up. Furious, he shoots at the man again, hitting his shoulder. The man cries out but, amazingly, pulls his arm up and levels the gun at Jason. Jason braces for another shot.

But it doesn’t come. Suddenly, the man clatters to the floor. Looking down, Jason realizes you aren’t unconscious and you’d kicked his legs out from under him. Wasting no time, Jason jumps on the guy to keep him down, and quickly pistol whips him in the head. Same as he did you, except this time, it sticks, and the man is out cold.

Jason catches his breath. Damn. This wasn’t the close quarters fight he was hoping for.

A moan rises from you next to him. Looking over, Jason sees you blinking, gingerly touching your head. “Ouch, fuck,” you mutter.

“Fucking hell, princess, you sure know how to step in it,” Jason says flatly.

“Piss off.” You bring your fingers to your face, checking for blood.

“You’re not bleeding,” Jason informs you.

“I can see that, assface.” You groan, starting to get to your feet.

“Whoa, hold on,” Jason cautiously moves over to you. “You might have a concussion.”

“You just told me I wasn’t bleeding.” You try to stand up, sway, and fall back to the floor. “Actually, I think I’m going to puke.”

“Concussion,” Jason says grimly. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Nah, fuck that.” You squint at him, then shudder. “Lemme look at those papers.”

Jason looks to the desk. “You can’t even see straight, princess, no way are you reading those papers.”

“The hell I’m not.” You start to drag yourself over to the table.

What the fuck is wrong with you? “Do you have a goddamn death wish?” he demands.

“None of your business.” You crawl over, reaching blindly onto the tabletop.

“Chrissakes.” Jason gets to his feet, shoving your hand out of the way. “What are you looking for?”

You keep silent, glaring at him. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, kneeling so that he’s next to you. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you clearly can’t do it alone.” He gestures to the goose egg on your temple.

“I would have been fine without you,” you insist, and Jason snorts.

“I saved your ass,” he challenges, and you look away, frowning.

Jason sighs. He thinks you’re…you seem to be, uh. Embarrassed. Maybe. Jason’s not sure he knows what anyone’s thinking these days, but that’s how he’d feel.

“I’m not asking for a thank you, this is what I do,” he tries to reassure you, and you huff. “But I’m better at this than you.” You scoff, opening your mouth to argue, but Jason points to the bat on his chest and you fall silent.

He waits patiently. Finally, you give in. “I want the names of the people who deal on 10th and 3rd,” you mutter.

Jason nods, then digs through the papers. After a minute, he clears his throat. “Here, I’ve got three.” He holds the paper out and you take it, sticking it in your pocket. “What’re you trying to do?” he asks.

You glare at him again, and he sighs. “You’re gonna get hurt, it’s kind of my job to make that not happen.”

“Didn’t ask for you to do that,” you mumble, but your heart’s not in it. “I want their addresses.”

Jason nods. “You gonna break in?”

“Not yet, just looking.”

He nods again. “If I find them, will you let me come with you?” You furrow your brow, confused. “When you look,” he clarifies.

“No,” you say stubbornly.

“Then I take that paper out of your pocket and leave you in the dust,” he says warningly.

“Ugh, fine.” You grab onto his arm to pull yourself up. He starts, uncomfortable at your touch. You ignore him. “Come on, if you’re going to be my babysitter you might as well give me a hand.”

Carefully, Jason abides and helps you stand up. He keeps a hand on you cautiously, afraid you’ll fall again, but you bat him away. “It’s fine, relax.” You look toward the window.

“Here.” Jason walks over and knocks out the rest of the glass. You roll your eyes, but step through. “You need help getting down?”

“Fuck off,” you say easily, but Jason’s not convinced.

“Let me go first, okay?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, gently shoving himself in front of you and leading the way down. He keeps an eye on you the whole way, but you make it down fine.

Out on the street, Jason’s hit with another dilemma. How’s he gonna get you home? It’s a long walk to your apartment. He glances at you: you’re squinting at the ground, bracing yourself against the building so you don’t fall over. Okay, walking and public transit are out of the question. He’s gonna have to call in a favor.

Jason takes out his phone. He pulls up Simon’s number, the jeweler owes him for stopping an armed robbery at his shop. Besides, Jason knows he’ll still be up; Simon may be a jeweler but he’s got eyes and ears and fingers all over this area.

He calls and connects to the line in his helmet. Simon picks up after three rings.

“Hell-o?”

“Simon.” Jason doesn’t need to say anything else.

“Ah! It’s Mr. Red Hood!” His thick, Russian voice booms over the phone. Jason rolls his eyes but smiles behind the helmet. Simon always seems to be poking fun at him, but Jason lets it slide. “Why you call me so late?”

“I need favor.”

“Sure, sure. Of course. What you need?”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Jason looks over to see you glaring at him in disbelief. He taps his helmet, and you gesture roughly at him.

Right. International sign for fucked up in the head. He holds up a finger at you. You roll your eyes.

“I need a ride, I picked up someone who needs to get home.”

“Yes, yes. Where?”

Jason gives him the address. A guy will be here in five minutes.

Call over, Jason turns to you. “Talking to a friend,” he explains. “I’m getting you a ride back.”

“Don’t need one,” you mutter, but Jason doesn’t bother to argue. You squint up at him. “I’m not getting in a random-ass car. Why should I trust you?”

Fair point. He sighs. “I…I swear it’ll be okay. I promise.” For whatever that’s worth.

You look at him with suspicion, but nod regardless.

“You should get your head checked out,” he adds. You wave him off.

“How am I gonna know when you get the addresses?” you demand.

Jason’s thought of that. “I’ll find you.”

“Pass.”

Shit, you don’t make anything easy, do you?

“Fine. I’ll give you my number.” You take your phone out of your pocket, and he rattles off one of his burner accounts.

Heh. First time giving someone his number. Jason cracks himself up.

The car arrives and you fall into the back, telling the driver where to go. The guy waves at Jason; it’s Piotr, one of Simon’s kids. He gives him a nod, turning to go.

“Hey.”

Jason looks back to see you’ve rolled down the window. He steps over. “Yeah?”

You let out a long exhale. “Thanks.”

Huh.

“Uh, anytime.”

You nod, rolling the window back up. The car drives off. Jason spends a few moments rooted to the ground.

He snaps back to attention and grapples up to the rooftops. Obviously, he has to follow the car. Just to make sure you get back safe.

———

There will be more! I have a plan!

(Simon is inspired by the jeweler i go to. jsyk he’s a good dude)

[fumifooms]

Kabuholm

For me the main appeal of Kabru x Holm is that Holm is 1) dependable and 2) casual.

For 1, we see it throughout the manga and whatnot, with his healer role but also with his composure, so relaxed it’s in turn soothing to hang around him. He’s a bit like a turtle, gentle and takes it at a relaxed pace, slows down your frenzied pace, retreats into his shell if too much is happening hehe… The Mick & Kuro bath comic is a favorite of mine on that front! In that one he complains and shouts, but he still lets Mick crash, he still helps, he still makes them tea and makes sure they have a trashbin and makeshift beds and whatnot lmao, and it’s late too… Reliable dependable Holm.

But also he freezes up when too much is happening <3 Gotta protect him a bit teehee, Kabru coming to his rescue and it’s his chance to show off. Except he doesn’t need to show off, it’s not strategical or needed, neither for his plan or to win Holm over as an ally, but he still will <3 Because he wants to and that on its own, wanting to, feels novel to Kabru… Dungeons is the place where he feels like he can show off the most to Holm because he seems so unaffected in general by his charms, and protecting him is one of the things Kabru knows he can do, and the showing off is because…

… of 2! He has that huge casual vibe to him. Holm still has expectations of Kabru as a leader yes, but he won’t voice them unless prompted and on his face you’ll find the same unbothered calm smile as always. Being around him feels like having no pressure. It feels like being trusted entirely even if your actions seem shady at first, because it’s not a vibe or a persona he trusts in you but it’s you, however you are like in the moment.

Kabru spends time with Holm, around this other repressed guy that has his shit put together (even if Kabru does know about Holm’s flaws, and he feels a special kind of way about that… Collecting that info like pokemon cards and finding that he wished he knew even more <3 so so intrigued and "It’s probably just curiosity. If anything I’m just infatuated" when he realizes it feels a twinge different than with everyone else), and he finds that he feels like he can unwind and show himself a bit. Show some flaws too. Holm being so unconditionally casual AND quietly supportive, even if he doesn’t say anything, would be soo important to Kabru in a kabuholm timeline… A telepathic sort of thing would form where Kabru learns how to read his face, and even if it’s always the same droopy eyed smile he starts understanding how he feels, what he’s thinking, what it means when he nods at him in silence and aughh…

Holm DOESN’T push his emotions onto Kabru!!! Holm keeps that shit to himself!!! Kabru doesn’t have to manage Holm’s emotional needs & states for him, when that’s what he usually has to do for everyone!!! Charm them and keep them happy and if this or that happens then you need to anticipate their needs with this and blahblahblah. Holm is low maintenance, he doesn’t take much emotional energy to deal with, he has his own deal figured out!

Kabru in canon knew about the way Holm freezes up in surprising intense situations, a rare time he’s had to cover for him in any way and he was so quick about it, and again, battlefield with humans both physical and mind games is his specialty so if it’s just protecting him from enemies he’s the man for the job <3 Holm’s the healer to his warrior after all, with an impressive dose of defense and offense thrown into the mix too. I will say also, that scene where Holm hesitates when Marcille says not to hurt Faligon… Kabru stepping in and giving Holm the decisiveness he needed to not falter.

With all that said about Holm’s feelings being something he doesn’t make Kabru’s problem to deal with, in Kabru getting infatuated it should be something that eventually gets him like "I wish he’d rely on me a bit more…" Kabru should massage the stress out of him <3 Always keeping himself composed and being dependable and stuff wears down on Holm (and Kabru)… I do think Holm represses to some degree so 1) the pent up stress he hasn’t been letting out 2) "bro, let’s learn to show our real emotions more together… Bro…"

I’m not sureee how the Holm side plays out in my mind yet but either he falls much later than Kabru or he’s just really good at hiding and being casual about his crush which tbf would be thematic lol. But idk if he’d be that good as that… Thinking. Because with the comic about his sister or even the one about Dia’s fiance or Mick crashing at his place, Holm does like, show a lot of emotion and distaste, some anger, he doesn’t repress that much/everything. He has a sense of duty that makes him want to help where he can, he does have desires like say, Kabru not getting it on with his sister, but also he’s not gonna force himself to be a solemn saint always either… Kabru would also find that fun methinks, figuring out the exact duality in Holm, where he cracks and why. Oh nooo I fell in love with my enrichment and coworker. Them just hanging ouuuut at a tavernnn after everyone else leeeeft… Haven’t done a full Holm analysis yet but I’ve started giving him more thoughts bc of kabuholm and diaholm. Because his religion is important to him and it bars him from meat for example, it’s reasonable to think he sticks to an upstanding moral code with awareness and purpose. Despite having been to jail he’s never shown scorn or shittalked elves or alluded to it, either he doesn’t resent easily or he keeps that part of his past on the down-low for whichever reason. His maturity is actually something that’s often pointed to about him, he’s only the equivalent of like 30, but being close in age (as in they’re both older bc they’re long lived races) is cited as the reason for why he gets along with Dia the most in the party for example. He can be lively, but when he is it’s usually because something’s happening that he doesn’t like lol, also usually off the job, wether it be because of being in a different mind state, doing different things in different situations, or because Kui make so him more expressive in Daydream Hour extras haha.

So kabuholm to me is the casual quiet feel-good get-to-know-each-other slow burn ever. They prob never confess if we’re being honest but even just hanging out around each other fills up their battery somehow, like being at a sauna and feeling refreshed.

So yes sort of, the want to show off someone hard to wow and impress someone who’s very well put together and unfazed, in duality with how that person makes you feel like you shouldn’t or don’t have to try so hard, that you can just catch a break and take it easy for a moment, socially.

Holm’s observant and composed. I like that he’s able to keep up with Kabru and engage with his points. I do always like when a partner has the capacity to be critical or skeptical, reign in a bit or balance, but Holm is easily swayed with his trust in Kabru, and easily reasoned with to a satisfied degree. He’s low maintenance but still engaging.

Kabru is not only the main character of the group but also his main character point is being good at reading and remembering people: It’s no surprise that the majority of what we learn about Holm is done through him one way or another, but I still like that he’s got Holm’s quirks down pat, like the freezing up thing. Allow me to find that cute idk. And then the reverse of that too below… Underrated how all of his party knows about how he sucks at taking care of himself and his space.

I tried compiling all of their moments but I’m sure I missed some, especially Daydream Hours ones. So yeah my kabuholm manifesto. I’m casual about them but they creeped up on me randomly and have refused to leave my heart. Bromance idk idk

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Hi Mo! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing and the way you capture the duality of Alfie's character. I saw that you were looking for ideas so I thought I'd send one in (please feel no obligation/pressure to write it, this is just spit balling). Maybe something with reader being protective over Alfie. Maybe they're unaware of the infamous title the Camden King holds or they are but they have an overwhelming sense to have to protect him when the two are placed into a dangerous situation. Thanks so much, and again no pressure to have to write this ♥️!

Hi my friend!! You are so sweet, I hope you’re doing well too!! Thank you so much for this prompt! I gotta be honest, for some reason I had a hard time trying to figure out how I wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy it though, and if it isn’t hitting the way you were hoping, message me and maybe we can come up with something together!! Sending my love!!! - Mo

Change of Plans

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

Warnings: fighting, blood, stitches

This was NOT how the night was supposed to go.

Alfie was going to have a late night at the office, finishing up some business with the Shelby boys. Fine enough, you could make his home coming sweet. A fresh chocolate babka would be fresh out the oven, ready for him to cut into and devour. Candles would be lit all over the house, with curtains drawn in to protect from peering eyes and the creeping in cold. And you. You were dressed so pretty, just waiting for him. Hair loose and free, just how he loves it. You had put on that soft pink dressing gown he likes so much. The silk one with the delicate lace at the ends. You even put lavender oil on, extra, just to entice him.

It was SUPPOSED to be a nice surprise. It was SUPPOSED to be an evening where you spoiled him. It was SUPPOSED to be a romantic evening.

But no… here you are. Sitting next to Ollie in the car. Being driven across town to a bar. A bar, where your husband, along with the idiots Tommy, Arthur, and John Shelby, were fighting. Being that Ollie was concerned enough to grab you from home, you could only imagine how bloody it was.

Ollie looked over at you, eyeing the hem of your dressing gown, nervous as to how the pink fabric would be received, “Uhm.. Ma’am, I have a coat in the back… don’t you think maybe-“

“No Ollie I don’t think I want it. If Alfie wants to pull me out of my house this late at night, he can deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Ollie you know I love you so very much but I will need you to not speak again until we get to the bar. Yes?”

Ollie nodded, but the stress never left his eyes. You know he meant well. He was only ever looking out for you and Alfie. He was very very sweet. But frankly, Alfie did not deserve to have Ollie looking out for him. He did not deserve common courtesy tonight.

You slam open the doors, and it was exactly as you assumed it was. Regular patrons of the bar were lined up at the edge of the walls, watching the gladiators in the center tear each other apart. There was blood all over the floor. Broken glasses and spilled liquor scattering the floor mixing with the red. Tables and chairs discarded and destroyed in the wake of the brawl. You assumed, that the fight started as Alfie against the brothers. But it looked from your stance now, that it was every man for himself. All four of the men were sporting black eyes, bruises and cuts all over their faces, necks, and hands. You heard Alfie’s laugh above the sounds, “C’mon now!!! You want some more?!”

He didn’t see you yet, but you could see him. He looked like absolute shit, and his mouth was bleeding despite the toothy grin he gave with every punch he gave and received. You rolled your eyes, and felt your rage rise. He was getting far too old for this shit, reveling in his strength and the destruction he could so easily cause. The honor he wanted to protect with the force of 50 men. In normal circumstances you find it honorable. Sometimes even charming. But the way it was going… someone was going to get killed. And if anyone was going to kill Alfie it was going to be you.

You motioned for Ollie to follow you, as you stomped over the bottles, blood, and water. The yells for more blood by the men at the edges slowly turned to whistles as they gave witness to your bare legs, the thin dressing gown, and your steaming rage barreling through. With strength mustered from God himself, you grabbed the collar of John and yanked him back quickly, tossing him onto his back, “What the! Oh, Mrs. Solomons…”

Ollie managed to rip Arthur off of Alfie’s back, and he too looked incredulous at your appearance at this disgusting scene. All that was left was Alfie and Tommy, still attempting to rip each others throat out, entirely oblivious to your presence.

“ENOUGH. STOP IT.”

You screamed, but to no avail. They were entirely focused on one another, on their mutual blood lust. Seeing no other option, you motioned for Ollie’s gun, snatching it from his hand, and shot three rounds into the ceiling.

They finally stopped, looking up to find you as the source of the noise. Where they initially looked like big men, they suddenly reminded you of naughty children.

“Alfred Solomons. Thomas Shelby. Just what in gods name do you think you’re doing.”

Silence. Utter silence. “WELL?! I’m waiting Mr. Solomons!”

Tommy tried to get up, but paused when you pointed the gun at him, “Do not make another move Mr. Shelby. Not only did you ruin a night with my husband, but you also nearly killed him. I have half a mind to shoot you dead right now.”

Not moving from your initial target, you address Alfie, “Have you finally found yourself speechless? Say something.”

With a swollen eye and bloody lip, he manages to smile sheepishly, “Just… just business love. Just… a bit of a quarrel darling nothing more… put the gun down my love, you look beautiful. A right vision darling. ”

“I will decide when I put the gun down Mr. Solomons.”

You begin pointing the gun at each of the four men, “I think we can all agree… that we are ALL a little too old to behaving this way yes?”

Tommy was watching you intently, as was Alfie. John and Arthur hung their heads. Embarrassed for both their behavior and their deep seeded fear of you. You motioned for Alfie to get up, “My husband and I are going to leave now. Mr. Shelby, I expect a handwritten note apologizing for ruining my evening. And Monday you all will convene together, to discuss the issue like fucking adults!”

Alfie winced as he got up, cane nowhere to be found. You walked back out into the cold, with Alfie close to your heels. You push him into the car before you, and slam the door shut, telling Ollie to take you home.

You can’t even look at Alfie. So overcome with irritation and worry. Irritated that he acted so recklessly, and worried about his injuries. As you always are. Alfie fiddled with the coat on the seat, “Coat is back here and you still decided to come out in your dressing gown eh?”

“Be quiet I do not want to hear you.”

“Oh you will hear me though won’t you yeah? You will hear me, because now, all of fucking London saw my wife’s bare legs! I mean what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?! You want to know what’s wrong with me Alfie Solomons? I wait all day for my husband to come home. No no not just wait. I SLAVE around the house all day, make myself look nice, hoping HOPING that my husband makes it home! I worry sick ALL DAY that maybe this will be the day my husband doesn’t come home. And instead of coming home, he goes and acts like a COMPLETE FUCKING MORON and starts a fist fight with the Shelby boys!! You are getting too old for this kind of reckless behavior Alfie! And I cannot let you keep destroying your body like this!”

You begin to feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks, and Alfie’s heart starts to crack, “Aw.. darling I- treacle don’t go worrying about old Alfie now. Your husband is like an ox yeah?”

Your tears keep flowing, harder now, “No Alfie! No i do worry! It’s not about you being strong!! It’s about you being healthy! About you being safe! I’ve never told you to stop the business! I’ve never asked you to leave it! All I’ve ever asked is that you show wisdom! Not to go around picking fights! I can’t see you like this Alfie! You don’t deserve to get cut up and beaten for nothing! For a pissing contest! I shouldn’t have to see my husband like this just because of some… some pride!”

Alfie just placed his bloodied hand on your knee, patting and stroking your thigh trying to comfort you. Once Ollie got you and Alfie home, you silently walked up, freezing and covered in the smell of booze and violence. “Get to the bathroom Alfie. I’ll be there in a minute to clean you up.”

You changed out of your soft pink nightie, and slipped on of Alfie’s night shirts over your body, breathing in the smell of his left over cologne. With a sigh you lugged the medicine kit into the bathroom, where Alfie sat at the edge of the tub, shirt off, hot water running and steaming the room. Silently, you began cleaning the wounds on his hands and chest. Once the tub was sufficiently filled, you nodded for him to get in.

With a grunt he lowers himself in. It was getting harder to get into the tub. His muscles tighter than they used to be. You begin your work, stitching up the deeper cuts on his chest and face. It was like nothing to you now.

The first time you stitched him up, he had to talk you through it, giving you more comfort than you could him. It was a rough first try, the scar is still pure white between his shoulder blades, and you can feel it under your fingers at night. But now, you know your way around the needle and his skin, it’s a familiar ritual to you now, though you wish it wasn’t.

“You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” Alfie says suddenly, eyes glossy, and forehead sweaty.

You shake your head at him. Of course he’s trying to flirt with you while you’re stitching him up, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delirious.”

“Nah. I married an angel darling. You make those shirts look like them French magazines.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Damn him, he knows how to sweeten you up. You finally finish up the stitches, 10 different gashes in total, and you begin putting on the salve and bandages when he finally speaks again, “My sweet heart, you should not have gone down there. It would’ve been ok. You don’t need to be involved in all that.”

God he’s irritating. Throwing your hands in your lap you bite back, “Alfie don’t give me that. One of us has to have some sense! One of us has to care about you.”

“You are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Or are you forgetting what it is that I do! I ain’t a soft man treacle.”

“Do not even try to spin it Alfred Solomons. I will not be made to be looked at like a hysterical and stupid house wife. You will not make me feel crazy Alfred Solomons. I am your wife and you will listen to me.”

A beat of silence. And two blinks from Alfie are your queue to keep speaking, “Never. Never have I ever told you to stop. I told you that I would always support you. That your people are my people. You want to continue the business. Absolutely. You want to drop it all and go to Margate. Beautiful. I will always be here for the aftermath. I will always be there to discuss. I will always be there to stitch you up. But this Alfie… this type of… reckless nonsense… you got slashed in the chest Alfie! I will not be made a widow Alfred Solomons. Especially in the wake of something which was preventable. I refuse to watch my husband kill himself for a fucking pissing contest.”

He stared at the water in the tub, losing its steam and washing away the grime from his day. In this moment he wasn’t the King of Camden. That mask left the moment he walked through the threshold. Right now he was Alfie Solomons. Your husband. The man who was to love and protect you.

“Alfie… don’t you see how much I love you? How much I want you to be safe? I hate seeing you in pain, it makes me sick. I don’t know what I would do if you were suddenly not here. I think… the sky would turn black. I would not be able to breathe.”

Alfie hummed, and began to rise out of the tub, “C’mon… let’s get to bed yeah?”

With a sigh you nodded, helping him out, and cleaning up your tools before leaving him to dress for bed. Already bundled in between the soft white sheets, you look above your book to watch him limp into bed, and your heart breaks. He grunts as he gets in, but then pulls at your shirt to bring you closer, “C’mere darling. Need you.”

You toss your book to the floor, huddling closer, letting him guide your head to his bare chest. He hums put a tune from his childhood, stroking your hair as he thinks. After a bit he whispers, “Do you know what would happen if you weren’t next to me anymore?”

“Hmm?”

“The world would stop spinning. Lose all its color. Food ‘d lose its taste. Music would be horrible. I’d stop breathing. There’d be no reason to breathe. No reason at all.”

You begin to feel tears fall again, but he kept continuing, “I love you my darling. You add meaning to all this… I’m sorry I made you feel… as if you didn’t matter. As if your feelings didn’t matter. They do treacle. Your husband is stubborn, and it ain’t right. Ain’t right to make my wife cry and worry. You’re the best a man like me could ever ask for. You put up with so much… I promise not to be such an ass yeah? Start using my head before I start up some nonsense. Deal?”

You nod, clutching his chest, kissing him wherever you could reach, as Alfie hums again, kissing the top of your head. “Now Treacle. Tell me all about these plans you had for tonight.”

[nowimjustastranger]

I have been binge-reading your tumblr all day, and AHHHH, dude I love the StCMO AU so much holy shit. I cannot get enough of it. I actually read a Rick and Morty fic somewhat similar to this? It only focuses on one perspective, though. High key recommend:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024960

Also love love loveee your fics! I actually first subscribed to your AO3 back when you were first writing Supernatural fanfiction, and then I found you again when I got into Gravity Falls ❤️. The Supernatural to Gravity Falls pipeline is SO REAL and there are so many similarities between Dean vs Stan and Sam vs Ford that it haunts me. I have so many fic ideas just based on episodes of Supernatural 😂. HIWTHI is actually lightly inspired by s2e20.

Sorry, I'm ranting. I had a few questions related to StCMO:

1. What would StCMO!Ford do about a Stan and Ford stuck in a death time loop together? Somewhat similarly to Deja Vu by interlude (though it doesn't have to be), but if it wasn't resolved? I gotta know how he feels about the crossbow death 😭

2. WWS!FD if Bill is constantly going after Stan through Rico and the cartel and whoever else because Ford wanted to make amends with his brother before the portal was finished? Bill doesn't want the distraction, and all of Stan's enemies are easily manipulated into deals to kill Stan off? (an AU of mine i've been toying with)

3. Does he ever feel a little bit detached after going through so many dimensions of Stans and Fords? I feel like it would be easy to become desensitized to it and forget the original perspective he started with.

Holy shit hi! Lovely to see you in the bottomless hole that is the GF fandom with me lmao. And yeah, lots of parallels with respective sets of brothers! I will absolutely read your fic rec! It looks delicious.

Death Loop

Admittedly, Ford 419"3 would have some trouble getting into the time loop, but he'd find a way if it meant safely breaking it. The hardest part for Ford 419"3 would be seeing Stan die and having to wait for the loop to reset. Lots of bad memories being dredged up. Because not only is he traumatized by his time in Bill's clutches, but the missions that go wrong had also left lingering mental wounds. Ford would have to figure out how to keep Stan and his brother alive long enough for Ford to actually break the time loop, so he'd have his hands full to say the least.

Bill is a Bitch

Ford would be having none of that shit. He'd probably enlist Lee to act as a bodyguard and have Lee deliver Stan to his brother safely while Ford handled the threats at the source (ie: wiping out all the gangs that have a vendetta against Stan). After he finished his task or removing the vast majority of threats against Stan to make it harder for Bill to find a puppet, Ford 419"3 would meet Lee and Stan at his counterpart's shack, showing his counterpart the evidence that he and Lee had collected to prove that Bill was behind the attempts on Stan's life.

Same Shit, Different Day

Ford doesn't become desensitized, per say, but seeing so much bad shit does leave it's mark on him. Instead of becoming numb to it, he had become obsessed with the safety of his loved ones. He's mentally unwell in the sense that he's constantly on alert, no longer able to truly let his guard down. Even with Lee and the niblings, unfortunately. He's more like a feral animal than a man, viciously protecting those that he considers his until death. He has insomnia due to his anxiety and paranoia, only sleeping when his body literally shuts down on him. Lee and Fiddleford are working on coaxing him to sleep a little here and there before that happens, but it's slow-going.

[meguwumibear]

tw: mentions of intimate partner violence (NOT between togame and reader), reader has a black eye as a result of the IPV

The streets of the city come alive at night. There’s a buzzing in the air that isn’t present in the morning. Shops and restaurants turn on their bright, neon signs that thrum audibly with electricity. People move about chatting and laughing with each other about the latest workplace scandal or other idol gossip.

The streets are crowded tonight too, despite the weather. Thick, heavy drops of rain fall from the dark night sky, pattering against the soft awning you’re crouched under. The storm came on suddenly; the weathermen didn’t predict it. When you ran out into the night, you did so without your shoes let alone an umbrella.

Absentmindedly, you picked your way towards the nearest convenience store, planning on buying something frozen to ice your eye with. A pint of ice cream, most likely. Two birds one stone or what not.

Problem is not only are you without your shoes or umbrella, you’ve left your wallet at his house too. After he raised his hand at you–not for the first time–you simply ran from his apartment as fast as your legs could carry you. His temper has always been bad, but it’s gotten much worse these days. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of it anymore.

A blast of cold air hits you as the convenience store’s automatic doors slide open. You don’t pay any mind to the man who walks out until he joins you under the awning. He too, it seems, is without an umbrella.

It doesn’t take long for you to get the feeling the man is looking at you. Just your fucking luck. Got away from one asshole only to have to deal with another. You look up at him and shoot him the meanest glare you can manage. Soaked through as you are, you figure it doesn’t amount to much.

“Ouch,” is all he says, staring directly at the growing shiner your (ex) boyfriend gifted you with. “Hope you returned the favor.”

“Tsk,” you huff with a roll of your eyes, “do I look like a fighter to you?”

The man continues to look at you through a pair of yellow tinted shades. After a moment passes, he shrugs. “Looks can be deceiving. You’d be surprised.”

It’s then you notice the orange jacket the man is wearing. Two twin lions embroidered on the breasts of the jacket.

Shishitoren.

Shit.

You look away.

If you don’t engage with the guy, maybe he’ll just up and leave you the hell alone. You stare at his sandalled feet, tracing the rigids of the shoes with your eyes to distract yourself from the fact that the guy is still fucking staring at you.

When the dude finally looks away, it’s to root around in one of his bags for who knows what. There’s a rustling sound as the guy picks through the plastic. When his hand emerges again, it’s holding a can of soda.

“For the shiner,” he adds when you don’t immediately reach for the can. “Gotta ice it so it doesn’t puff up.”

Fuck, why can’t the guy just leave you well enough alone? You gingerly take the soda from him, nodding your thanks, though your eyes don’t leave his toes. Is it possible the man recognizes you? It’s possible he passed pics of you around the gang.

You press the perspiring aluminum against your cheek and focus on the cold radiating from the can. You really should head back to your apartment. You haven’t really put much distance between you and him.

There’s quiet hum above you before the man lowers himself to a crouch in front of you. It’s harder to ignore him now he’s this close to you. Can’t the motherfucker take a hint?

“Can I see?” he asks.

“Why.”

He shrugs, “Had my fair share of black eyes. Just wanna assess the damage for ya.”

An exacerbated huff escapes you. Dude’s either the dumbest man in Japan or intent on ignoring social cues. Either way, fastest way to get away from him is to let him give you a once over. So you do. You drop the can from your face and briefly try to meet his gaze. It’s gentler than you expect it to be.

Your eyes find the orange of his jacket again. You stare at the dark threads of the embroidered lion’s eyes. A hand raises, moves towards your injured cheek, and you flinch away.

The man curses under his breath and tears you didn’t even realize you were holding back begin to fall.

“Who did this to you,” the man asks, voice hard and firm. When you turn to face him again, there’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“What’s it matter?” you sigh. “Your kind protect their own.”

The man’s fingers ball into tightly clenched fists at his side. His hands are huge and scarred at the knuckles. They’re hands that have known violence. When he notices your eyes drift to them, he makes a visible effort to unclench them.

“Name,” the man repeats, struggling to keep the urgency out of his voice. Then, “Please.”

The next time you see Togame, he’s tossing the jacket of your ex into your lap.

“I don’t protect woman beaters,” he says. Followed by, “Would you like to go for dinner? I’m starved.”

[wonysugar]

need sugarmommy wonyyyy

i need her too anon, i need ha tew..

okay but genuinely talking,, sugarmommy wonyoung would be so elegant? the rich, cold, collected and intimidating classy ceo that everyone knows and admires? yeah, that’s her. her name, jang wonyoung, would ring in your ears everytime you heard it. you’d grin just from spelling it out in your own head.

but that’s just because you admired her for other reasons.

the way you met her was truly unexpected but so very welcome though, you created an account on some local sugarmommy finding app that liz showed you a girlie’s gotta get her bag somehow. it was fairly average from the start, couple of matches here and there, but nothing really clicked.

that is, until you matched with her, of course.

you already knew who she was beforehand, which kinda made you wonder if this was the real deal? her texting habits made it clear to you, however, this was really her. she was just so eloquent with her words, so.. assertive? you felt hypnotized by simple pixels on your cellphone’s screen, your eyes slightly widening as she called you fancy nicknames like darling and sweetheart during casual conversation. she was so persuasive, you just wanted her to take complete control of your life from the get-go.

and to nobody’s surprise, that feeling just grew stronger each time you went out with her.

she’d always walk into the restaurants, expensive handbags and rings in hand, all because “coming empty-handed to a date would simply be ill-mannered of her”. hell, wonyoung even asked you which country you wanted to visit so she knew where to fly her private jet to next. she spoiled you rotten, really, and she didn’t even ask anything of you for the first few dates, and remained patient and attentive with you. she simply wanted to make you happy.

up until around 5 dates later.

she finally offered to bring you back to her mansion, after confessing that she secretly bought some lingerie she thought would suit you, and that she’d just love to see you try it on for her. yknow, a silly excuse to get you to see how big her house was.

you later figured out that her house wasn’t the only thing that was big!

this woman surprisingly had the most kinky objects in her possession, handcuffs, flogs, ropes, you name it. christian grey style, if you will. wonyoung, so composed and charming when it came to important meetings, yet so animalistic and rough when it came to sex. of course, she started slowly, asking you if you were ready for what was about happen, letting you know of a safe word, etc.

once that was done, she immediately got to work. planting rough kisses all over your body, muttering about how you were her pretty little thing and how nobody else could have you. you were hers, and she made sure to let you know of that.

i mean, you understood that pretty quickly when she roughly pounded your cunt with her probably-expensive-as-shit strap on. you didn’t even know rich people had those, and she didn’t even care if it hurt you. she wanted to fuck you good, and that’s what was bound to happen. her fingers rubbed on your throbbing clit insanely well, you could tell she had an insane amount of experience from the way she leaned into your ear and whispered praises into it. she’d treat you with unlimited amounts of respect anywhere else, but definitely not when she’s in her giant bedroom, stretching you out<33

oh and also, can we please talk about how stern this woman would be? you’d be begging, pleading her to go slower and she’d say something like “i don’t remember telling you that you could speak, love.” LIKE OU?? yes ma’am i am silent

or even in your day to day life?? bringing you to some expensive ass store that sells dresses with price tags that look like they could pass as math equations, you’d try and convince her that it’s too much and that she could you always buy you something cheaper elsewhere and her just shutting you down immediately going “nono, pick one, y/n, i absolutely insist.” like FUCKCK??

[jazzyblusnowflake]

OMG hi…I really like your art and was wondering if you wanna be mutuals??????????? Also tell me about your MD ships :3c

honey we are dating- .....okay yknow what- HI PRETTY & TALENTED LADY- yess i will absolutely love toooo 🙈💕💕💕💕💕

also lets see uhhh okay this is an excuse for me to just... expload-

keep in mind not every ship is meant for all of you so dont badger me about stuff that ISNT CANON or YOU DONT SHIP. contrary to whatever you believe, when somone posts about THEIR ships, nobody wants to hear about you NOT shipping it on THAT EXACT post.

hang in there, this gon be a long one >:p

First off we are starting strong with Nuzi- Biscuitbites obviously thats a given- these two just have too much to be said about why and how they make eachother the best version of eachother, whether they ever became canon or not- they fit like puzzle pieces- they lessen eachothers negative traits by being their for eachother.

next is Vuzi- Violentviolet, they are my favorite kind of enemies to lovers 😔 but its also tragic smh. kinda pissed off at how V always does something good in Uzis favor only when she is LITERALLY PASSED OUT- either in the camp ep on the bus or in Alices lab. like damn ofFUCKINGcourse Uzi wouldnt know she cares about her 😭😭😭

envuzi- Violentbitingbiscuits, i love these goobers with all my heart- they deserve the best 😔💕💕💕💕

envy - [does this poor ship just NOT have an exclusive FINDABLE tag name??? im calling them GoldenMemories...], i like to think that if they were in the manor still, and nothing bad had ever happened, these two would be comforting eachother in the healthiest way possible. V needs someone like N and N is just adorable like that uwu

Next we have JxTessa/Jessa- [calling them Fancyblades cuz why not-] J deserves some closure for the shit shes gone through smhhh 😔, its a tragic yuri of J loving and wanting something she probably already accepted she couldnt have, and even then she gotta deal with Ns ass being the favorite one regardless of how hard she tries to be perfect... sighhh i wanna imagine them in a future where Tessa was spared as the only human and J could save her 😭😭😭😭 Tessa might have loved doing mechanical stuff or wore black to hide grease/oil stains on her clothes from her parents and wore gloves to hide her oily stained hands- i want her to have a scene of wiring drones back to life and saving them and saying something like "hey there, you made it! dont worry, ill take care of you, youre my friend now :3" or something //dies//, also before anyone says it- even if Tessa was a teen in the flashbacks- romance is not exclusive to ADULTS, teens can love eachother without having sexual stuff involved. no she was not their MOTHER figure, she was their FRIEND who liked to fix robots for herself to not be alone in a house where her own parents literally chain her up as punishment. i dont even know why im arguing about this, people headcanon or make aus about characters NOT being dead all the time and if Tessa was alive for as long as J thought she was, Tessa would have been a perfectly fine adult either way. so counting this, yes shes canonically considered an adult when Cyn tries to imitate an adult humans body 🙄 makes as much sense as everything else i guess-

next ones i got is NorixYeva/Neva- Solverlilies- i just think theyre neat 😭😭😭 and once again, like everything else in this franchise- they are tragic yuris 😔 damn liam im finding a pattern over here 🤨 anyway, i like to think they either got closer in the lab experimentations or were already close when they were working as WDs in the campsite area for the humans. obviously canonically they were probably straight or just not into eachother romantically- [Nori either u have the worst taste men or Khan just fucking lost it after you died-] but also on the other handddd.... they have 2 hands and they are robots, i want them to kiss like two barbie dolls and im gonna make them do just that-

DollxLizzy/Dizzy- Bloodypink, wost fucking ship names ever, i cant find shit on them with these tags and it makes me angry >:/ at this point 2/3s of my ships are just tragic yuris smh, Doll did not deserve any of the things handed to her, even if she went about doing some things the wrong way i wish Lizzy didnt just abandon her- but then again, Doll did kinda abuse Lizzys trust and Lizzy got scared of being close to a serial murderer so.... morality calls this a draw? 😭 im crying... i wish someone was there to help Doll... sigh... i like to think Lizzy would have waited for Doll to just come back at some point... oh well, thats why AUs exist :"3 //sobs in the corner//

DollxUzi/Dollzi- Bloodybats, this ship is so underrated to me... they could have been... so much more. but why weren't they? did Yeva abandon ever getting close to Uzi when she was a kid after Nori died? did Uzi and Doll just never play around together as kids when their mothers were so close? were they ever close and something went wrong as they grew older? at worst they could have been like sisters together, and at best maybe more than friends. i just dont know what happened here, like Yeva could have tried to keep an eye on Uzi, maybe Uzi could have found Dolls powers so cool before having them too- i dont know theres literally tons of possibilities- but if Doll deserved to be saved or cared for by anyone, at least one of them should have been Uzi... sigh.

ThadxV- Killingblonde, yall this is... the cutest shit... ever???? like from here on out we kinda go into the more or less crackship territory but these two are adorable- Dumbass yet wholesome jock boy that just wants to keep his queen happy 😔👌👌👌 He and Uzi would have so much to talk about on "crushing on literal murder bots that stabbed and almost ate us" its literally love at first stab smhhh 😫💕

ThadxSam- Smokyjock ???? for some fucking reason??? i dont know what my brain did here man- i just like the trope of someone getting under Thads skin- like pair up the healthy sports loving gym boy with the lazy but wholesome dumbass that does drugs or is always just sleep deprived and Thad is always trying to just... take care of his ass and make him take care of himself but he just WONT SMHHH-

okay some more or less crack ships down here:

ThadxN: it speaks for itself. its too adorable and youll go blind from the light of wholesomeness-

ThadxNxUzi: Uzi will die here from the overwhelming wholesomeness... oh bonus if its just a 4s polycule of ThadxNxUzixV i mean i know im pushing my luck but.... random crackships go brr- V and Uzi will complain but love their dumbass golden puppy partners-

ThadxUzi: i think they could have been close and Thad caring about her as a childhood friend turned crush sounds just too cute for me 😔

LizzyxUzi: another random ass rivals to lovers or some shit idk what this is, Lizzy would pay Uzi to kiss the fuck out of her i dont make the rules-

ThadxLizzy: in some cases where they are NOT headcanoned as siblings or cousins, i think they have a good energy of wholesome jock bf and girly queen cheerleader lol, Thad is just a good bf eitherway-

DollxUzixLizzy: the gals would not leave a single second of silence for the small gremlin i swear to God- [Uzi is gay as FUCK for her gfs, absolute girloser unit with her gorgeous but crazy gfs]

okay for the end i have some characters that arent ships but i wish they could have become closer as friends or work out their issues...

J and N- too much abuse and toxicity here, i wish they could talk together more and see they have a lot of things in common- maybe a full line of dialogue from J without threatning N in every sense of the manner would be nice for a change =_=

Doll and V- again, a bit morally ambiguous to ship a character with the murderer of your family, esp when said murderer hasnt expressed regret lmao, but i wish they could at least be friends... Dolls disdain for the murder drones pushed her to end up the way she did. maybe if she didnt do it alone she would have been alive by now. so i like to think what would have happened if she and V could have made up- not necessarily Doll forgiving her- but at least having the space to grow and understand why they did they things that happened.

Cyn and literally ANYONE- i want the solver to be SEPARATE from Cyn- i wish Cyn would have still existed somewhere down there and was savable- i wish this poor child AI had a happy ending to her by connecting with the others as ACTUAL siblings... goddamnit 😔

aaaand thats it for this fine ass day 🫡 yall are welcome to ask about any of these- boy the tags are gonna be.... a lot.