#a little bit of personal stuff past this point but. being injured sucks ass

[hershelchocolate]

Oddly enough I feel like now is the perfect time to write my next Lyf fic. I've been wanting to do it for a while, but Whisper Court has kept me too busy to write anything else. Now that that's mostly done, I'm free to write some fic and my cold is mostly gone so my brain isn't melting anymore

I'm still hurt I am still Injured but oddly enough. It makes writing the fic I have in mind more appropriate. I just still, after all this time, cannot come up with an excuse for why Monsters Lyf would be injured for multiple days in a row

[quinncupine]

Yo imagine being in the general class of UA and being recovery girl’s little apprentice/intern and one of the 1A boys constantly getting hurt (whether its on purpose or accidentally ) as an excuse to come visit; I’m imagining todoroki or kaminari because I’m in a mood for those 2 and Deku wouldn’t need to an excuse 🙄

Ha, of course Deku wouldn't need an excuse!🙄 That's his second home at this point. I’ve never written for Kaminari before so this was a fun little experience! Sorry I’m answering this so late, I took a little writing break last week, but now I’m back on the grind! (Also I tried to keep this gender neutral as well!)

Word count: ~2.8K

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Quinns Masterlist!

Midoriya, Kaminari, and Todoroki with Intern!Reader

Midoriya

"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya," a soft voice sighed in mock exasperation. "How did I know I would find you here yet again."

Izuku flinched and looked up from his spot on the bed to see you casually leaning against the doorframe. That signature white lab coat draped over your form suited you perfectly. You looked like a real doctor standing there with the little clipboard tucked neatly into your waist and that warm smile radiating off you. To say that your smile had an effect on him was an understatement.

"Uh," he chuckled with a nervous smile, "sorry, I know I was just here yesterday."

"Yesterday? Midoriya, you've been here every day this week." Hopping off the door frame, you crossed your arms. "Do you wanna see me that bad?"

It was only a joke, but his face flushed a bright crimson at your words. Suddenly, every spot other than you seemed much more interesting to stare at, so he didn't catch that smirk lighting up your face as you stepped into the room.

A quick flip through the probably too many pages in his chart that he'd racked up this year alone, "So, what's it this time?"

"Just a sprained wrist," he held up said wrist. "I thought it was fine, but then it started to swell so I, uh, thought I should come here…just in case."

"And how did it happen?" you set the chart down and pulled the little wheeled stool to sit in front of him. With gentle fingers, you prodded the bruised skin.

At your touch, he stiffened. You were so close, eyes solely focused on his wrist. While you were examining him, he took the opportunity to stare at you with those giant green eyes of his, cataloging every inch of your face. When you began your internship with Recovery Girl, he was shocked the first time he walked in here to see you instead of the older woman. Not that he was complaining. You were way more amiable with him and although you didn't appreciate him injuring himself so much, he'd come to quite like these little meetings with just the two of you.

"Lucky for you, it's not too bad," you decided, looking up to meet his deer-eyed gaze. One which he promptly looked away from. "Ice it for twenty minutes a few times today and the swelling should go down. I'll get you a compression bandage." When you stood up to root through the doors for the bandage, you glanced back at him. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"

"Concrete actually," he stuttered out. "I missed my opponent, couldn't stop my follow-through in time."

The power he held always amazed you, but you were always the one to see the after-effects during training. He was strong to a point of recklessness. Something he really needed to work on. Finally finding the bandages, you walked back to your stool.

"Well, I hope you kicked that wall's ass then." Grabbing his hand, you locked eyes with him, "just don't overdo it too much. You only have two hands so try and keep them for at least a few more years yeah?"

Izuku was only half-listening, too entranced by your touch to keep up with the conversation. As you carefully wrapped his wrist, he sat back, taking the time to take in your image. This was really the only time he ever got to see you. The support department was on the opposite side of campus and those classes rarely ever teamed up. Besides, you were part of the relief support courses, not tactical, which meant the two of you would never train together while here. And while you were great at this part, patching him up right quick, and sending him on his way, he couldn't help but wish you were slower. All he wanted was to just sit here forever with you, injuries be damned.

"Right then, here we are," Straightening up, you finished wrapping the limb, and with a double check to make sure everything was in order, you smiled up at him. "You know, I should start charging each time you come in here. I bet you'd be able to cover this entire department's budget in a week.

"Oh, you think so?" the way he cocked his head, that cute little innocent widening of his eyes seemed to inject serotonin straight into your veins. The boy was just too adorable for his own good and he didn't even know it. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."

"A bother? You?" An airy laugh blew past your lips. "My day would be so boring if I didn't have my favorite patient to keep me company." He tried his best to hide that all too obvious blush creeping up his neck. "Although, I could do without all the injuries you seem to be racking up."

Izuku turned his focus to the newly wrapped wrist, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you or he might combust on the spot. When you left his side to go wash your hands, he finally sneaked a peek. Now that you were done, he was going to have to leave. He didn't want to leave. He liked being here with you. For whatever reason, anytime you were near him, his heart raced and he felt lightheaded, but also a million times better, even with whatever injuries he was sporting. If he didn't already know your quirk, he would've thought you had the ability to heal with just a simple smile. You were an adrenaline boost he always looked forward to.

"You're not always here, right?" the words left his mouth before he even realized he said them aloud. "I, uh, I mean, you do other things outside the recovery ward?"

"Sure," you shrugged, drying your hands. "You're not always training, right?" With a pause you shook your head, "wait, don't answer that. I think I already know that answer." Casting a smirk at him, he looked down at his shoes, a smile of his own taking root. "I'll have you know I do do other things besides patching up one Mr. Broken Bones Midoriya."

"Oh yeah, of course, you do!" he tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth. "I just mean that your really cool and stuff but I never really see you other than here and I know the campus is big, but I just thought that maybe you, or I, or, or…uh…" he was running out of gas and confidence so he decided to abandon ship and jump to his feet, intent on escaping this sinking boat. "Um, anyway, thanks for the uh-thanks for this!" Waving his wrist, he made for the exit but before he could make his hasty getaway, you stepped in front of him.

"Geez Midoriya, calm down," it was like trying to corral a frantic bunny. The boy's eyes were darting all over the place, probably looking for a different escape route. "Tell ya what, when that wrist heals up and if you don't get any more injuries before the weekend, let's see if we can change not seeing each other around."

Izuku froze, the words processing in his mind a few times before they finally clicked. "You mean like a-a…"

"Just try not to get hurt for at least a few days? You placed a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "Think you can manage that?"

He'd never been so motivated to stay this healthy before. A furious nod and you sent him off with a wink. When the door closed, he slumped against the wall outside, bandaged wrist against his chest, trying to stop the mini horse race trampling through his chest. What he didn't know was that you were on the opposite side of that door, one hand to your own chest, the other trying to combat the heat on your cheeks. You'd been working up the courage to do that all week because god knows when Midoriya would ever find the courage to do it. An all too excited squeal rushed out of your mouth before you could stop it. This was going to be an interesting week.

 KAMINARI

You could hear the babbling from down the hall before you saw him. That stupid deep-fried laugh was synonymous with one person and one person only. Dropping the pen and whirling around in your chair, you leaned your elbow on the armrest as two of the school's med bots ushered Denki in. Thumbs up and that dopey smile plastered on his face had you trying your best to contain the giggle building in your throat.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," you smirked at the blonde who'd been sat on one of the beds. "Go over your limit again Kaminari?"

"Yay…" he mumbled and fell back on the bed with a groan.

It wasn't the first time he'd come in with a fried brain and if there was one thing you knew about him, it wouldn't be the last. The good thing is he usually just needed to sleep it off for a bit. But being the ever diligent medical intern, you came over to check him over.

Denki laid sprawled out on the bed, hands finally giving out and falling to his side. After a quick examination, he appeared to be in working order, just needed a bit of a recharge, so you returned to your paperwork and let him be.

A half-hour later, he sat up with a loud groan, rubbing his head, "Uh, that majorly sucked."

"Ah, so sleeping beauty finally rises," you didn't even turn to him but still felt that charming smile bounce off your back.

"You really think I'm a beauty?" he grinned, standing up to stretch. "You know I'm still pretty sore, I could always get back in bed and we can see if a kiss will make me feel better."

"Tell me," a playful tug on your lips as you twirled in your chair to face him, "do any of those lines ever work?"

"That's for you to answer and for me to find out."

"Sorry to disappoint bud, but I don't think you're gonna like my answer." Satisfied with his little pout, you turned back to continue your work. "You're fine Kaminari, you can go back to class now."

"Aww, but being here with you is so much better," he trudged over to your desk and leaned on the back of the chair. "Can't you write me a doctor's note so I can stay here with your beautiful face for the rest of the day?"

"And what would you even want to do here with me for the rest of the day, hmm?" you hadn't meant it to sound like an innuendo, but judging from his flushed expression, he'd taken it that way.

"Don't tell me you're interested in the medical field now?" it was your attempt to gain control of the conversation again. "And after all that hard hero training you do."

"Uh, I…" a small spark shot between his hands as he tried to think of something to say. You must've really thrown him off this time, although that isn't very hard to do. After a few moments of fidgeting, he deflated and dropped his head. "All right, I'll go back to class."

"Aww come now, don't look so down," you laughed, leaning back in your chair. "I'm sure Mr. Aizawa is much more fun than I am."

"Yeah, if you think torture is fun," he pulled his hair with a whine and slogged towards the door. When he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at you with a forlorn look. "Not even a kiss for the road?"

"Hmm," tapping your chin with the pen, you smirked, "maybe if you come up with a less cheesy pick-up line, then I might be more inclined."

That perked him up more than any jolt of electricity could do. "Well you're in luck babe, I've got plenty of 'em!"

"Let's hear it then, I'm all ears."

"Okay, okay…" he scrunched his face and crossed his arms. You could practically see the gears turning as he thought it through. "Damn," he spoke after a moment, trying to hide his smirk, "you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line."

You chucked the pen at him with a snort, which he narrowly dodged, hopping halfway out the door in the process. "Oh my god Kaminari, I said less cheesy, get out of here!"

That dorky grin back on his face, he held up his hands. "Fine, but don't think I'm finished here. I will find one that works." With a wave, he disappeared, yelling through the door, "mark my words!"

TODOROKI

Honestly, the scrape wasn't even that bad or that deep, but he still found himself marching towards Recovery girls office in hopes he'd find you there. Ever since you became her intern, he seemed to find himself injured more and more frequently…by total accident of course.

"Oh, Todoroki," you smiled as he walked in. "What brings you in today?"

"I injured my arm during training today," he said flatly, holding the appendage up. There was a sizable gash under what looked like scorch marks. "I thought it best to get it checked out."

"Geez, who were you fighting this time?"

"Bakugo," with a shrug, he glanced at his arm.

"Well, that makes sense," you waved him to one of the beds, "come on, let's have a look then."

Silently, he sat down on the examination bed, the stiff paper ruffling as he scooted back slightly when you approached. His whole body was stiff, eyes staring everywhere but your face. It didn't look much different from his usual self, but internally, he was having a slight meltdown from your mere proximity alone.

Sliding the stool over, you sat down and twisted his left arm back and forth to get a good look, muttering a few things before giving it back. "the cuts shallow which means no stitches, so that's good. Should heal on its own in a few days. I'll just clean it and wrap it, then you're good to go."

"Oh," the word unintentionally slipped out.

When you looked up at him, you noticed the tiniest of pouts forming on his lips. "Unless something else is wrong?"

"No!" he said a little too quickly.

Something else was definitely wrong. Throwing him a quizzical look, you headed for the drawers that held your supplies. "That's good I suppose," you said lightly, "It seems like I've been seeing you almost every day this week alone."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I didn't say I was complaining," with a grin, you sat back in front of him with sterilizing pads and gauze.

Those words alone were enough for his left side to flare up. When your fingers touched his arm to clean the wound, you flinched away.

"Uh, hey Todoroki," you cocked your head, trying to maintain that professional demeanor Recovery Girl kept pestering you about (although the old woman should take her own advice) and not crack a smile. When his eyes finally met your own, you pointed to his arm, raising a brow. "Might wanna tone down the heat there."

He blinked. Then blinked again before realizing what the problem was. His cheeks flushed almost the same color as his hair and turned his head in embarrassment, rasping out a quiet apology.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" dapping the wound after the skin cooled down, your eyes wandered up to his. "You seem a little worked up."

"Something like that," he mumbled, watching your hands delicately work, using that as a distraction to keep from staring at your face. The same face he could easily find himself lost in if he gave himself the chance. So he decided to change the subject. "It's quiet here." Yeah, way to go, man, real insightful.

"Yeah, Recovery Girl gives me the quietest shifts until I gain enough experience." Once the soot was cleaned off, you grabbed the gauze. "You don't always have to be injured to come visit me, you know." Sparing a quick glance up at him, you started wrapping the limb. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Am I even allowed in here without an excuse?" It was just a curious question but your frown caught him off-guard, wondering if he said something wrong.

"Couldn't hurt to find out," you mumbled, "I mean we are in an infirmary." Tying off the gauze, you patted just below the cut with a small smile. "Okay, you're all patched up. You're free to go."

"Does it have to be here?" Shoto suddenly stood up, eyes meeting your own.

"What?"

"You said you wouldn't mind the company," he furrowed his brow. "Does it have to be here?"

"Well, no, I was just saying…wait, you wanna see me outside of here?" you gestured around the room, a little baffled.

He nodded, looking less confident by the minute. "If that's alright with you."

The smile that lit up your face was brighter than any flames Shoto could ever hope to produce. "It's more than alright with me."

...

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[unloved-cadillac]

All Over Again(Levi x Reader)

After regaining his memories, Levi is in high school searching for Y/n, his past Queen in which he served under. But after he does, she doesn’t remember him nor her past. Can Levi make her remember or will he make her fall in love with him again?

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 3.4𝗄

Reincarnation was the norm in the new world. After many lives lost, they were found a lifetime later. Many got lucky in the sense of finding their other half from their previous life. Either it’s by accident or glimpses of their face in dreams that drove a person to find them. Although, not everyone remembers their past lives. And, boy, does it suck for their friends who do.

In Levi’s case, it was his previous queen who didn’t remember him. Who also happens to be his lover.

His dreams were filled with her ever since he can remember. Her beautiful h/c hair flowing in the wind while they rode on their horses, her sparkling eyes when she spoke of her new book. Her plump rosy lips that made him want to kiss her forever. What he gathered from his memories, he was some kind of knight that was under an oath to protect the L/n family who was the royal family at that time. Levi also found out that he had fallen hopelessly in love with the princess. Y/n L/n. Well, at the time she was a princess when he fell for her. Levi was a mere soldier when he was picked to be one of the royal guards sent to protect Sina’s flower.

“Hey! Levi! You’re daydreaming again!” Hange yells out while tapping his shoulder. “Huh? Oh. Sorry.” Levi snaps back to reality. He was in class. English to be precise. He hated English. But he remembered Y/n telling him that she was very fond of writing and reading so he tried for her. “Thinking of her again?” Hange asks with a broad smile on her face. Hange was also part of that era with them. As a matter of fact, she was the closest friend apart from Levi since Hange helped in the castle’s science field. “Shut up, Shitty Glasses.” Levi groans and wipes his face. “I have a new memory of her.” Hange tells him and he looks back up at her. “What was it?” “Well, we were in the lab and I spilled some kind of solute on her and it burned her left hand by a mistake. Even though she was hurting she laughed which in turn made me laugh. You even slapped my head. Ouch.” Hange tells Levi and chuckles. “But that was also the moment that she kissed you.” Levi’s eyes widened and a faint blush formed on his cheeks. “Yeah. I remember spying on the two of you and she kissed your cheek while you dressed her wound. It was cute.” Hange continues and smiles.

As Levi was about to say something, their school bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. They packed their bags and walked out together. “How am I gonna find her, Hange?” Levi asks and Hange sighs. “I don’t know, Levi. It was by pure luck we found each other. Maybe in time she’ll turn up.” She pats his back as they walk home. Yeah. In time.

~~~~

The following day, Levi was in his home room class with Hange when their teacher came. “Alright, kids. Today I bring some good news! We have a new student joining us today!” He exclaims making Levi groan at his loudness. Pixis was always so damn enthusiastic about everything and it was a pain in the ass sometimes. As this man spoke, Levi thought of Y/n. He was willing to walk out this damn school and the life he had here just to find her. She had his heart for so long and all he wanted to do was hold her on his arms again.

“Ok, kiddo. You can come in now.” Pixis says and the door opens. Levi had his head on his table, trying to catch a few winks before 1st period but that was disturbed when Hange shoved him awake. “Jesus, shitty glasses. The fuck you want?” He questions her and Hange had her mouth agape and her eyes wide. So wide, her eyes were for sure going to pop out of her skull in a few moments. “Oi, Hange. What’s wrong?” All she does is point to the front of the class and he turns his head to look at what his friend pointed at. That was where he almost started crying.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Y/n L/n. I’m glad to be part of your class!” Y/n says and smiles a bright smile. Levi almost fainted from what he was seeing and hearing. She was here. This wasn’t a dream nor a memory. She was right in front of him, smiling a smile he hadn’t seen in forever. “Y/n, there’s a seat right there by the window. Go on.” Pixis tells her and she walks to the table and sits herself on the seat. She sat in the third seat from the front in the row next to Levi’s. But he sat right in the back with Hange so they couldn’t speak to her. Hange and Levi shared a look before the bell rang. As everyone started to leave, Levi and Hange walked up to her. Levi’s heart was beating a million miles per hour. This was it. He was finally going to hear her voice after so long and he will have her again. “Uhm, Y/n?” Hange called to her and Y/n turned around and smiled. “Hello.” She says. Hange looked at Levi and Levi looked at Y/n. “Hi, Y/n.” He says and she smiles. “Hello.” She says again and Hange launches herself onto her making Y/n almost fall over. “Oh, Y/n! I’m so happy that we found you! You have no idea how long we waited for you! I’ve missed you so much!” Hange cries out and all Y/n does is pay her back. Hange could feel her resistance and pulls away to look at Y/n’s confused face. “Y/n?” “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” She asks and Levi’s heart just drops. Hange looks at her then Levi. “What?” Hange asks Levi and he doesn’t say a word. “I’m gonna be late to my first class. Goodbye.” Y/n says pulling away from the awkward scene and walks out the class, leaving Levi and Hange with a broken heart.

“What the fuck, Levi?!” Hange yells out while they sit in the cafeteria. Levi’s eyes were trained on Y/n while she spoke with some people. Y/n stopped and looked at him. He blinked and continued to look at her. She blushed and looked away. He smirks knowing that even if she doesn’t remember them, he still could do that to her. “Guys!” A friendly voice calls out to them. Turning around they see Armin walking up to them with a book. “Armin! Hi.” Hange says and Levi greets him with a “hey.” Armin sits next to them and places the book in front of them. “So, I read up on your little situation with Y/n and I might have a solution.” Armin says and Levi looks at him sharply. “Explain.” Levi says and Armin opens the book. It’s old, with a brown cover that was filled with little designs. “I found this book in the library. It was written by someone who was always reincarnated and in this page,” he points to the book, “it explains what he experienced when his friends couldn’t remember him.” Levi grabs the book and starts reading it.

..and man was I bummed. The four closest people to me couldn’t remember each other and me. Funny how I did but they didn’t. I kept on trying, for almost two months, to speak to them. To tell them about the adventures we had in our lives. But none of them budged. I was getting really impatient. Not only did I feel alone, two of them were destined to be together and they never even looked at each other. So I stayed up for countless nights, trying to find a way to jolt their memories. Something must’ve happened that was a constant in our lives. I’m sure previous life me is laughing at my face now. Anyway, I wrote everything down from what I could remember. Four lives. I wrote everything for four lives worth. And there was a thing that was a bit constant.

In my first life, we were in the times of mythical creatures. Maria and I were playing with a small dragon and it burned her arm. All of us laughed and helped her treat it. In my second life, we were in medieval times and a horse bit her hand. In my third, we were in a forest and Maria didn’t know the three of us. But when my cat scratched her, she gasped and fell down. Then she leaped into my arms telling me about our lives. In my fourth, I was a soldier and Maria had been shot. The five of us smiled at each other and then we died.

After coming up with the conclusion that Maria had to be injured in some way for her to remember, I set a plan. Since I wasn’t the cause of any of her injuries, it was something that did it. A creature or animal. The next day, I went to Maria and told her to meet me behind our school yard. She was hesitant, of course. But she showed up anyway. I told the others and they all showed up. Mostly because I used their interests to lure them there. When they showed, I had a dog. Tim was my big Saint Bernard who could never harm anyone unless I said so. When I pointed to Maria, he ran up to her and pushed her on the ground. His claws mistakenly scratched her and I quickly pulled him away. No one did anything. They all just stared at each other. Maria looked at her arm and then up at me. Tears filled her eyes and she leaped into my arms. She whispered to me that she remembers. I smiled and hugged her back while the others joined in. When we pulled away, the two that were destined to be together kissed. We were back together and that’s all I wanted.

Levi sighed and handed the book back to Armin. “So, we need to find a constant. Something that happened before that will jolt her memory.” Levi says and Armin nods. “Yup. Is there anything that might work?” He asks. “There is one. But here’s the thing: we only remember our one past life. For what we know, this is our first time being like this. So how can we be sure it will work? What if we fuck it up?” Hange asks with a worry. “Then we start fresh.” Levi answers while still looking at Y/n. “Ok. Well, let’s meet up at the cafe later and we can talk about it.” Hange proposes and Levi hums in agreement. “Oh! Armin! How is Annie?” Hange asks and Armin blushes. “She’s good. Her school is far away so we hardly see each other. But we Skype and stuff so I guess we’re okay.” He replies. “Your past life is so cool, dude. Being a merchant and falling for a soldier. You must tell me more one day,” Hange excitedly says and Armin smiles. “Of course.” Those two ramble on while Levi thinks of how he could win his queen’s memories back.

~~~~

At the cafe, Levi and Hange talk over coffee and tea. They were brainstorming and Hange speaks. “Levi, maybe we should try that burning thing on her.” “I hate having to hurt her. Isn’t there something else?” Levi asks while sipping his tea. “The thing is, I can’t remember anything else that might work.” Hange explains and he sighs. They continued to speak when Levi heard the cafe bell ring. Out of curiosity, he looks at who entered and he quickly slapped Hange to look. “Ow, Levi! Not so hard. Oh.” She stops and looks at Y/n. She was with some girl and it looked like she didn’t know they were here either. Hange groans and looks back at Levi. “I miss her. That should be me dragging her everywhere,” she says. Y/n and her friend order drinks and it looks like they weren’t staying. Since their drinks were in take-away cups. A man stood behind the pair and Levi narrowed his eyes. The man leaned down in between the girls, making them startle. “Hey ladies.” Levi heard the man speak but the rest was soft. Levi saw the man’s hand making its way to Y/n’s back. “Uhm, I’ll appreciate it if you kept your hands off of me and my friend, sir.” Y/n says and Levi smirks. Yup, definitely his Queen. “Oh, come on doll. I know you like having a man holding you.” He replies and his hand was going to grab her ass when Levi stepped in and grabbed his wrist. “What the..?” “You heard her. Keep your hands off of them,” he says sternly and Y/n looks at him. Suddenly, Y/n flinches and holds her head.

“This prince doesn’t seem to understand that I do not want to marry him,” Y/n whispers to herself while the prince continued to babble on and on about how rich his father was and how good they would be together. “So, princess,” he leans towards her, “what do you say we go up to your massive chambers and have some fun?” He moves his hand to grab her waist when another arm grabs his. “Levi!” Y/n says and Levi twists the prince’s arm. “Keep your hands off of her,” he says and throws the prince on the floor. He looks at Y/n and cups her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Are you okay?” Y/n snaps out of her memory and looks around her. What was that? She looks at Levi who was eyeing her carefully. “Did he hurt you?” He asks and she shakes her head. “I..I need to go.” She goes past Levi and walks out. “Thanks Levi. I owe you one,” the girl says and walks out with the drinks to Y/n. “Hey.” Levi turns to the barista. “Levi, right? Thank you. For saving them. You’re welcome here anytime for free.” He says and Levi nods. He goes to sit back down with Hange and looks at her. “What?” He questions her smug face. “She remembered something,” she replies and Levi scoffs. “Sure.” “Really, Levi! She did. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have held her head or would’ve thanked you! We’re getting close.”

~~~~

“Oh my god. What was that?” Y/n whispers to herself as she gets ready for bed. She remembers her faint dreams that she had. All of them were of this boy. He looked just like Levi. Now that she saw him in real life, her heart fluttered all the time and the sense of pure love radiates from him. She knows the whole story about reincarnation. Her friend told her of her past life and how she and her girlfriend were there together. “Why can’t I remember?” She holds her head and groans. “He means something to me! I know he does! Shit.” She says and falls into her bed. Maybe her dreams will give her some answers.

Back at the palace, Y/n was reading her book while Levi stood guard by her door. Looking up from the book, she catches Levi looking at her but he quickly looks ahead when she does. Closing her book, she sets it on the table and walks up to him. “Levi.” She calls his name. “Yes, your majesty?” He responds. She wraps her arms around his neck forcing him to look at her. “You know you don’t have to be so stern when you're with me alone, right?” She asks and he looks down at her. “I hated those men looking at you today,” he suddenly says and she gasps. “Was my knight, perhaps jealous of said men?” She slyly asks while he scoffs but doesn’t answer. “Is that a yes?! Oh I knew it!” She giggles and he looks at her. Y/n calms down and cups his cheek. “Your Queen orders you to give her a kiss.” She says. “I don’t need to be ordered to do that,” he responds and places his lips on hers for a soft, loving kiss.

Levi wakes up after his dream. “Another memory. Fuck,” he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. “Y/n. Remember me. Please.”

“Y/N! RUN! GO AWAY FROM HERE!” “NOT WITHOUT YOU, IDIOT!” “FOR GOD’S SAKE Y/N LISTEN TO ME!” Levi yells back at her. He swings his sword back and forth fighting the enemy while guarding his Queen. He turns to look at her and sees an arrow flying towards her. He runs in front of her with the intention to block it from piercing through her. Instead it pierced him. He saw her eyes widen and looked down at the arrow. “L-Levi,” she whispers to him as her tears fall. He couldn’t hold on for much longer. So he quickly kisses her and he leans on her. “I love you, Y/n.”

“LEVI! NO!” Y/n yells out, springing up from her bed. She pants and tries to catch her breath. She feels her cheeks which were now soaked with tears. Her hands were shaking. It felt so real. “Levi. Queen. It all makes sense now.” She whispers to herself and wakes up to go to her bathroom to wash her face. As the water hit her face, another memory ran through her mind. His funeral. It was pouring down and Y/n looked up to feel the rain hit her face. “I love you, Levi.” Y/n looks at herself in the mirror and smiles. “Finally.”

~~~~

Levi and Hange walk to their class while Hange goes over their plan. “Ok. So, I’m gonna take Y/n to our science lab, okay? You will be outside watching like how you did back then. I’m gonna show her some cool experiments and I’m gonna accidentally hurt her. When she yells out or like cusses at me or something, you come in and ask me what happened. You will take her hand and look at it while she looks at you. Then, you take her to the nurses office and help her wound and get all lovey dovey. Then you look at her, staring into her eyes oh so lovingly and then you will lean in and she will then you both will..-“ “ALRIGHT, HANGE! I get the idea!” Levi puts a hand over her mouth to shut her up and she chuckles. She looks ahead and sees the person they were just speaking about. Hange points to her and Levi looks. There Y/n stood. With an apple and caramel muffins.

Levi and Hange stop dead in their tracks and look at her. Y/n smiles and walks up to them. “Hange.” She says and Hange smiles. “I remember you telling me once that you loved the caramel muffins I got for you. So here,” she hands her the container. Hange eyes sparkle and take the box. She looks at Y/n and brings her in a bear hug. “Oh Y/n! Y/n! I’m so happy you remember me! I’m so happy!” Hange yells out and Y/n laughs at her long lost friend. Setting her down, Hange looks at Levi who had his own smile on his face. “I’ll leave you two be, your majesty.” Hange says softly and Y/n giggles at the name. Levi looks at Y/n with adoration in his eyes and Y/n smiles while holding out the apple. “And my knight told me that his favorite fruit was an apple.” Y/n says as some happy tears fall down her bright face. Levi moves to her and wipes her tears away. “You remember me?” Levi asks and she nods. “I remember. I remember us. Levi, last night I, I saw how you died. You died protecting me. You saved me, Levi. You saved me, baby,” she whispers and holds his face. “Yeah. I told you. I’ll always protect you.” Levi replies with tears falling down his face and Y/n crashes her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her around. He settled her back down but kept her in his arms.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers into her lips. “And I’ve missed you.” She says and hugs him. He pulls away and looks at her. “Just know, that I’ll do it all over again for you.”

[nightwingmyboi]

what do you think about nightwing in the batman animated movies (bad blood etc) personally i found it lacking but would be great to hear your thoughts on it!

Oh boy do I have thoughts lol. I’ve kind of talked about it a bit in the past, and there are aspects of these movies I enjoy, but I do find the batman animated movies a little lacking myself! I’ll just lay it on all on the table; there’s like three big issues that I have with these movies (warning: some movie spoilers ahead). 

1) The Damian Wayne focus

I love Damian, he is one of my favorite characters in the Batfam, but honestly I’ve had enough of him in movies. He was the main character in both Son of Batman and Batman vs. Robin, and he was also a major player in Batman: Bad Blood, Justice League vs. Teen Titans, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract, Batman: Hush, and even the most recent Apokolips War movie...that’s a ton of screen time fam! And most of it’s wasted in my opinion lol, because we don’t actually see Damian learn important lessons in these movies...in the comics, there was growth. Damian was initially an annoying, prideful brat. He had no respect for anyone, and he would always go off on his own and do things his way, because he thought he was better than everyone else. But he was eventually humbled. He changed; Damian grew to respect Dick, and gradually learned to work as a team and follow his Batman’s lead. And his skill set improved over time as well--Dick trained him, both in combat and particularly in detective skills, which the League didn’t bother to coach him in. 

Batman (1940) #713

The Damian in the movies doesn’t need any training; he’s already overpowered as hell. He takes Deathstroke down in the very first movie he makes an appearance in!! Which is insane. Not even going to talk about the stuff with Nightwing lol. He literally has nowhere to go skill wise. And he never truly loses his condescending attitude or learns to be a team player. In the first movie, he sneaks out of Wayne manor despite Bruce’s instructions to stay. In the second movie, he sneaks out of Wayne manor multiple times despite Bruce’s instructions to stay. In the Judas Contract, he...you guessed it...sneaks out of Titans tower to investigate things on his own. So on and so forth. He’s constantly doing things his own way. And the big way of improving this...is to send Damian away to the Himalayas instead of actually letting him form a meaningful bond with anyone in his family lol. He’s been a very static character in the movies--let him grow if he’s going to have so much screen time!

I’m also really disappointed that DC has gutted Dick and Damian’s relationship. Dick was a huge positive influence on Damian’s life in the comics; he was the first one to reach out to Damian and believe that he could be good. Their bond was an essential relationship for Damian to have. I really do think that the erasure of their mentorship/brotherhood is a big reason we have seen so little growth from Damian in these movies. 

2) The treatment of Dick Grayson 

Dick looks like this: 

DC hates him, enough said.  

...but I’ll still complain some more, because I am also not a fan of how DC makes Dick lose fights and get injured constantly. Anybody else hate his freaking SHOULDER right now??? I could point out an instance of him being nerfed in literally every single movie he has been in, but I’m not going to bother because it’s exhausting honestly. Cannot even think of a time he’s won a one-on-one fight rn. It also stinks that DC uses arcs where Dick is supposed to play a big role, and then delegates him to the sidelines, usually in order to elevate other characters. His origin story as Nightwing was the Judas Contract...and they very nearly cut him from that story (also really missed Jericho in that one, not going to lie...would have killed to see Dick and Joey interact). And in Batman vs. Robin as well, DC has the Court of Owls be the antagonists, and didn’t even bother to mention how Dick was supposed to be a Talon himself, or that his great grandfather was a Talon...which seems like a pretty big detail to me! Instead, Talon tries to recruit Damian, which is honestly just typical at this point lol. 

3) The erasure of Tim Drake and Oracle

DC should give Tim some love. He’s barely in anything lol. I actually think it’d be really cool to see Tim’s origin story play out in movie form; DC could milk the Jason-died angst for Bruce as they love to do, and seeing that NTT #55 scene with Dick and Bruce’s falling out on the big screen would be heart wrenching!! And then we would really be rooting for Tim to help fix things. I also think seeing Tim’s origins could help people connect with him. I think a big reason DC rarely puts Tim in movies is that people without intense comic book knowledge just don’t know about him or understand how he fits into things...so that would really help his character out I think. 

We also really need Oracle frankly. Why would you just erase a disabled superhero from your roster? There are few enough as it is! Barbara is so capable, her intel and computer skills are invaluable to Batman...she could really make a difference in some of these animated movies! Honestly, we just need some good Barbara Gordon in general, because the few movies she has been in as Batgirl you could cut her out and it would have zero effect on the larger plot. The one movie where she was a central character, her characterization unfortunately sucked ass. Barbara spent 75% of The Killing Joke obsessed with Batman (the other 25% she spent in the hospital), which is a disservice to her character. And every scene with her and Bruce in it made me want to tear my hair out because of how much Batman talked down to her. Especially...that one scene...was sooo yikes for me. And Babs still didn’t seem to know Batman’s secret identity afterwards, did Bruce not even take the cowl off for sex? God, I don’t even want to think about it, why did I even go there.

Anyway, there are a couple of other little beefs I have with the movies, but these are the main things that have me rolling my eyes. There are things I like about the movies as well. The fight scenes are usually pretty fun as long as they don’t involve Dick lol. The last part of the Killing Joke with Mark Hamill’s voice acting literally gave me chills, it was so good. Love Under the Red Hood, and, as long as I ignore the Nightwing erasure, the fact that DC let Kory lead the Teen Titans is stellar honestly. They seemed to take Starfire seriously for the most part, and at least they didn’t let Damian lead lol, there’s that. Honestly, sometimes I feel like the only character that is pretty consistently nailed in these movies is Alfred!

[mobius-prime]

227. Sonic the Hedgehog #159

System Reboot

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray

All right everyone, we've finally made it! After 213 long issues of having him around sticking his fingers into everything, we've reached the final issue that Ken Penders ever wrote for the Archie Sonic comics! Interestingly enough, this isn't actually the final issue he had a hand in entirely - he inked and lettered one final story several issues from now - but since this is the final one he actually wrote, this is where we'll be saying our goodbyes to him. And so soon after Karl left, too! Those of you who know the comics likely know what's coming next issue, so we might as well tear through this one to get to it! Kenders, with your final issue, show us what you got!

So last issue saw Hope lying on the floor injured and unconscious from a blow to the head, and Shadow threatening Sonic if she dies. Sonic then does the most level-headed and reasonable thing a person could do in this situation, meaning he immediately gets offended and attacks Shadow, and they both start punching and throwing each other around while hurling insults in each other's faces. Rosie is quite understandably disgusted with their behavior, and shouts at the both of them to stop at once.

About time! In his lab, a distraught Uncle Chuck reviews the Metal Sonics' technical specifications before lamenting ever creating them in the first place. Rotor reassures him that what's happening now isn't his fault, and reminds him that it's not necessarily the inventor's fault what others choose to do with the invention, obviously hinting at his past with the roboticizer as well. Eggman, meanwhile, finds himself in awe at the sheer destructive potential of the bots, admiring their reckless destruction of Knothole without regard to the citizenry that get in their way, but rather disappointed that he himself didn't come up with these particular models. Shadow, chasing after Sonic, is still worried that they may not reach the doctor in time to save Hope, and he feels a particularly strong connection to her due to her resemblance to Maria, as well as the compassion she showed him back when Locke kidnapped him. This gives him the strength to once again use his Chaos powers in a way he… apparently still doesn't understand. C'mon, Shad, this is hardly the first time you've used Chaos Control, surely you should recognize it!

At Castle Acorn, Elias and Antoine, standing on lookout, are dismayed to see that the Metal Sonics haven't been stopped on their rampage through the center of Knothole, and are on a straight course for the castle where everyone is sheltered. Shadow's Chaos portal abruptly opens behind them, and Sonic hands Hope over to Dr. Quack for treatment, something Shadow begrudging accepts as being the best they can do for now. Sonic, thoroughly annoyed by now at having to deal with such a menace modeled after himself, races back out to fight the rest of the Metal Sonics still bearing down on the castle, and Shadow follows him once again, not content to be left out of the fun. Sonic does his best to take down the attacking force with a whirlwind of his own, but it barely leaves them rattled, and he begins taking some nasty blows, clearly losing the fight. Shadow, coming up on the scene, realizes that despite all their differences he can hardly leave Sonic here to die like this, and raises his hand, emitting another blast of energy that immediately disables all the remaining robots.

Honestly, I'm a little weirded out by the idea of Knuckles of all people explaining stuff like Chaos Control to Shadow, given how hard that role is reversed in the games, with Shadow knowing a lot more about Chaos powers and Knuckles being an isolated loner with no proper knowledge of his heritage or the extent of his abilities. Anyway, with the day saved, Sonic reenters the castle to find Elias holding a medal which he has apparently pulled directly from his ass given the speed with which he's managed to produce it, or otherwise he's just had an award with Sonic's name on it sitting around for a long while for just such an occasion as this. He's awarded the title of Gentleman-At-Arms, something which comes with many privileges that Elias promises to explain later, and then… it's party time! Everyone weirdly acts as though this has been the biggest threat their society has ever faced, despite the fact that barely a year ago a malevolent alien force that had already eliminated civilization on this planet once before tried to suck the entire planet into a black hole, but whatever, we can let them have this one. But what of Shadow? Is he just standing around outside broodi- yeah he's totally standing around outside brooding.

…sorry, Chuck, but what the hell does that mean? What secrets do you apparently hold that are so important that you feel like you have to deviously hide them from Shadow? Like… it's such an ominous-sounding line that means absolutely nothing. By the way, this is where the story ends - absolutely no explanation is given for why the Metal Sonics went on a rampage the way they did. I mean, we know that someone targeting Eggman activated them and sent them after him, but halfway through the story they just kind of switched targets from Eggman to All Of Knothole for seemingly no reason. I suppose you could just say their programming got too scrambled to tell an innocent from their target, but honestly they feel more like a plot device intended to let Shadow discover his own abilities, and therefore something that wasn't well thought out and will be forgotten about by the next issue.

The Despicable Dr. Robotnik: Insidious

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray

Well, after all the excitement of the previous day, Eggman is looking to recoup at least some of his losses. A.D.A.M. is thankfully online once again, and despite Eggman's sour mood, A.D.A.M. hopes to cheer him up with some good news. He draws Eggman's attention to the nanite fiasco of a few issues ago, and while Eggman is initially unimpressed with him bringing up one of his failures, his interest is piqued when A.D.A.M. demonstrates that the signals the nanites send between themselves can be intercepted by their own equipment here in New Megaopolis. This gives them a direct backdoor into the dealings inside Knothole, and Eggman watches in fascination as A.D.A.M. manipulates some of the nanites in real time while Tommy, Jules, Chuck, and a few others run experiments on them.

Under Eggman's guidance, A.D.A.M. directs small quantities of nanites to "infect" first Jules, then Bunnie, with those two being the main targets due to their inorganic body parts. However, when Eggman tries to order Sonic himself to be bugged, A.D.A.M. points out that since he's organic he can't bond with the nanites, which kind of seems to go against the idea of Tommy doing just that…

See, this bugs me, because I actually put thought into the whole "this is why the nanites can bond with Tommy's shell now" thing, and yet here it's discarded in favor of "I don't know, shells aren't organic or something"? Yes they freaking are, Penders! I researched it! I learned more than I ever thought I needed to know about the biological composition and evolution of turtle shells just to make sure my one little comment about Tommy's shell bonding with the nanites would be accurate! Granted, I get that Mobians aren't exactly the same as the animal species they're descended from, but you'd think the shell of a Mobian turtle would count as similar at least. *sigh*

Well, on that somewhat anticlimactic note, we've finally reached the end of Ken Penders' tenure as head writer for these comics. It's been… well, I feel like saying it's been a wild ride would be a bit of an understatement, but the sentiment is there, at least. And while I know he hasn't been a popular writer among many fans, and I've had my own fair share of criticism for his work (especially the later stuff), I still think it's appropriate to recognize the many good things he brought to the comic, especially the characters and plot points that have by now become mainstays in the world of the preboot. That said, now that we're moving on from the Era of Penders, a lot of the most controversial stuff in the comic is behind us, and we have a bright, interesting, and well-written new future to look forward to! Hope everyone is ready for the excellence that is Ian Flynn, cause here he comes!

[writing-for-the-weekend]

Christian Yelich Imagine - part3

He pulls you back down towards the couch, and before you realize it you are wrapped up in Christian’s lap. His hands are on your hips, and you are straddling his legs with your hands on his shoulders. He looks up at you and smiles.

“You know, you’re really pretty,” he says sheepishly. 

You laugh and drop your head down to his shoulder. His hands travel up to your lower back, and he starts to rub his hands back and forth. He pulls you closer to his body and you wrap your arms around his neck. You lean your torso away from him slightly so that you can look back at his face. 

“Today has been great,” you say smiling.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.”

His hands lower back down to your hips, and you can tell that he hesitates, but his hands land on your ass. You sink further down in his lap so that your faces are closer together. Christian reaches his right hand up and cups your face. You look into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before you realize it, your lips are crashing together. You part your lips slightly and feel the warmth of Christian’s tongue invading your mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and lose yourself in his soft curls. Christian breaks away from kissing you and tosses you onto your back. He pushes your legs apart and crawls on top of you as he bites his lip. You reach out and grab the neckline of his shirt and start to pull him towards you. Christian grins and places his hand on the side of your head when you hear the garage door open. You throw your head back and let out a loud groan. Christian drops his head to his chest and shakes his head back and forth.

“I’m pretty sure they have the worst timing.”

Christian leans back on his knees and looks down. You follow his gaze, and it is pretty clear that he was enjoying himself quite a bit. Christian adjusts his pants and sighs deeply. He stands up from the couch and starts to walk to the bathroom, but he stops briefly before he goes. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. 

“You’re not off the hook just yet,” he says with a wink.

You groan again and rub your hands over your face. The garage door that leads into the house opens, and you can hear Aaron and Giancarlo talking. Aaron comes around the corner first and he sees you by yourself. He stops abruptly and looks around the room for Christian.

“Did he leave?” he says.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you mumble.

A huge grin spreads across his face. “Your face looks pretty flushed. What were you two up to?” he says barely able to control his laughter. 

Giancarlo enters the room and glances between you and Aaron. He has a huge smirk on his face as well and he claps Aaron on the back. 

“Looks like we were right about them getting along,” he says laughing.

“Honestly, you guys are the absolute worst,” you groan. 

Christian comes out of the bathroom and Giancarlo and Aaron start to slow clap. Christian’s face is bright red, but you can tell he is trying to hide a grin. He comes over to the couch and lightly pushes on your legs making room for himself next to you. 

“How was your workout?” he says trying to change the subject. 

“Not bad,” Giancarlo grunts as he stretches his arms above his head. “What about you guys? How was your workout?”

You cover your face with your hands and try not to laugh. Before you know it, Christian breaks and all of you start laughing together. Christian leans against your legs, and you feel that warm sensation in your belly again. 

“We just wanted to stop by to see if Christian was ready to head out,” Aaron says. 

Christian straightens up next to you and glances over your way. “Uh yeah, why don’t you guys head out to the car and I’ll meet you outside.”

Aaron nods his head, and you can see G elbow him in the side. You get up off of the couch and approach Aaron. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he gives you a kiss on the top of your head. You move to Giancarlo and give him a quick hug goodbye. The guys walk out back through the garage, and you turn to face Christian. He is standing right in front of you, and he mumbles a quiet, “Hey.”

He gives you a questioning look, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I just realized that I have no way to get in contact with you on my own. Can I have your number?” You smile and rattle off your number to him. The confident Christian from earlier is gone, and he is back to being shy and red-faced. You close the gap between the two of you and give him a long hug. He rests his chin on your head and you stand there for a solid minute. When you pull apart Christian says, “I’m bummed we have to end this short, but I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” He leans in and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. 

A few weeks go by with heavy contact with Christian. While he is away, the two of you text incessantly. After good games, you send him texts of encouragement, and after bad games, you console him. During the in-between, you talk about everything under the sun, and sometimes late at night, your texts turn a little graphic - especially with his recent ESPN photoshoot surfacing. Essentially, you are dying to meet up with him again. Your connection feels genuine and intense, and you are really enjoying getting to know Christian. September has decided to show itself, and you are enjoying the crisp, cool weather, and you long to have Christian with you on those beautiful nights. But Christian is busy playing his heart out. The Brewers haven’t secured a spot in the playoffs, and they are fighting hard to try and make it.

September 10th starts out like any other day. You text Christian on and off throughout the day leading up to the game. You have a work meeting that is going to take up the majority of your evening, so you send him your well wishes for the game and get to work. The meeting runs pretty late, and your supervisor wants to take the staff out for dinner. You would much rather order takeout and sit home watching the game, but you know when you need to suck it up and be professional. The dinner goes surprisingly well, and you appreciate the time to make some connections with your co-workers. 

You are walking to your car when you finally have the time to check your phone. You don’t expect to see anything from Christian, but you do intend to check the score and see how his night is shaping up. The screen lights up and you see a text, missed call, and voicemail from Christian. The messages came in while the game should have been in progress, and your heart rate speeds up a bit. You convince yourself that there is a rain delay as you open the text. The text reads, “Hey, can you call me when you have a minute?” You unlock your car door and sit down heavily. You pull up the voicemail and hear Christian’s voice wavering a bit, “Hey (Y/N), please call me when you can. It’s kind of important. I, uh, I just need to talk to you.” Your heart rate is through the roof at this point, but you press the call button and wait to hear Christian pick up. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, is everything okay?” you reply. 

“Um, not really. Have you seen anything from the game?”

“No, I just got to my car and I saw your text and heard your voicemail. Christian, what happened?”

“I’m in the hospital. I fouled a ball off my knee, and I can’t really walk or move it. They ran some tests, and I’m done. I’m out for the season.”

Your heart sinks and your press your hand to your face. 

“Fuck, Christian I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“So that’s part of why I wanted to talk to you. I, uh, I know this is asking a lot, but I was wondering if you would want to come stay with me? The doctor is telling me that I’m going to have a hard time recovering while living on my own, and he asked if there was anyone that would be willing to help me, and you were the first person I thought of.”

“Oh, wow, um,” you stutter.

“I know you have your commitments, and I don’t want to mess anything up for you, but I just wanted to ask,” he says, and you notice a hint of defeat in his voice. 

“I really want to be there for you, especially now. I don’t see it being an issue, but I just have to check with work before I agree. I’ve worked from home in the past, and I can just skype into meetings. I think I can make this work,” you say becoming more enthusiastic as you continue to speak. 

“Are you serious?” Christian exclaims. “We’ve been talking so much, and I am dying to see you again. I’m so fucking bummed about my season-ending like this, but knowing that you are even willing to stay with me for a little bit is helping my mood out quite a bit,” he says with a chuckle. 

“Let me go, and I will see if my supervisor is around to talk.”

“I’ll pay for everything. Like, not in a weird way, but I will pay for your plane ticket of course, and all the expenses while you’re out here.” 

“No way, I don’t wanna impose on you like that,” you say pacing your apartment. 

“Are you serious? I’m asking you to come stay with me. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about this later,” you say smiling. “I’m going to go figure some stuff out, and I’ll let you know.”

You end the conversation and you fall back onto the couch. You have so many emotions going on at once, and it is going to take some time to process them all. First, Christian being injured is a huge blow. You know how much baseball means to him, and you would never want something like this to happen to him. He works so hard all year long to make sure that he is in the best shape possible, and for something as silly as a foul ball to knock him out, you can’t help but be frustrated. Then, of course, you feel elated. To think that Christian wants you of all people with him as he rehabs is completely insane. In all reality, you barely know each other, but you are so excited to spend time getting to know him and help take care of him. 

You text your supervisor to see if she is around to chat, and you give her a call. You decide to describe the situation as a long-time friend needing your help rather than a random guy you have a major crush on who also happens to be a professional baseball player. Just like you expected, she agrees to let you work from home as well as give you some days off to travel and get situated. You make a mental note to never complain about your job again.

You send a quick text to Christian, “It’s a go! Let me know when you want me to fly in ;)”

Within seconds your phone is vibrating. Before you can even open your mouth to say anything, Christian starts talking into the phone. 

“You’re sure, right? Like 100% sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured AT ALL,” he says. 

“I am 100% sure. I promise. I am ready to be your nurse and wait on you hand and foot.” 

“God, I can’t wait to see your face,” he says dreamily. 

“I’m going to give you the biggest hug ever,” you say grinning to yourself.

Christian lets out a sigh. “So, I need your Venmo, also if it’s not too soon, there is a flight tomorrow morning. You can obviously pick whatever day you want to fly in; I’m just excited to see you.”

“Tomorrow sounds great, but I just have to figure out how I am going to pack everything. This is kind of overwhelming.”

“Just make sure you have your work stuff and chargers for all your electronics. We’ll go shopping once you get here. Well, I’ll transfer you money, and you can go shopping because I can’t get around all that well. It will just make sense to have a set of clothes and toiletries here. Before you can even protest because I can hear you trying to interject, please just let me do this. It’s the least I can do.”

You exhale loudly. “Okay fine, but I’m going to make you help me pick out clothes.”

“There are definitely some things I would really like to pick out for you,” he chuckles. 

You can feel your cheeks heat up, and you smile down at your feet. “I’m going to go tackle this packing situation, and buy my plane ticket for tomorrow.”

You toss the phone onto your bed, and you pull your suitcase down from the top of your closet.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Philosophical Debate

Philosophical Debate - Kidge Month Day 26 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Sometimes, debates with alien life forms go over swimmingly for the Paladins of Voltron. Other times... Things get a little fighty. And sometimes it isn’t always Keith slugging it out. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

When he was informed that Pidge had gotten into a fight with an alien on his way to a debriefing with the Blade about Haggar’s recent movements, he wasn’t exactly surprised. For as much as one would think that being a Paladin of Voltron would earn someone the respect and regard of the entire known universe, it actually didn’t. Many a time he’d observed alien leader after alien leader talk down to the Green Paladin, as if they were teaching a knee-high child, and then laughed when Pidge would tear down their assumption with one well-timed quip. Normally about they were misrepresenting their technologies practices or capabilities. Sometimes they’d become meek and passive, rolling over and yielding to her without much of a fight. Other times, though, they would see her rebuttal as an attack to their credibility and intelligence. So, when he heard Pidge had gone toe-to-toe with another alien? He figured it was just another instance of that.

He was thrown for a loop, however, when he was informed that it had actually led to fisticuffs and that both of them were sitting in the infirmary, most likely getting chewed out by Shiro.

He headed off to the infirmary once the debriefing was done, curious about what had been said to set her off like that. She was sitting there, holding an ice pack to one cheek, scowling at the floor. Shiro was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, sporting a look Keith had seen plenty of times himself. The older man glanced over at the sound of the door opening, his expression morphing at the sight of Keith. He stared at him, hard, before looking back at Pidge, as if to say, “Do you see what you’ve done? See how you’ve rubbed off on her?”

Keith dipped his head, a mix of embarrassed and avoidance, before peering around the room for the other impromptu brawler. He spotted them sitting off to the side, leaning over to glare at him from around a separation curtain. They seemed to be Dindurian, a planet that they had assisted recently at the request of Kolivan and the slowly rebuilding Blade.  It seemed that, a few months prior, their home world of Dindu had been taken over by a rogue Galran Commander frantically trying to gain a foot hole of control in the changing times. Prior to this, Dindu had been an ally to the Blade of Marmora, serving as a brief salvation point for Galran prisoners the Blade had snuck out. Voltron and the Atlus stepped in to liberate the planet post-haste. Afterwards, a few of their more technologically-inclined were insistent in joining the Atlas crew, hungry to repay Team Voltron for their help. He couldn’t recall the name of the one glaring him down but he did recognize them.

Once they had been informed of Keith’s Galran heritage, this Dindurian in specific began adamantly avoiding him. He didn’t necessarily blame them, but it still hurt.

Just by looking at them, he could see they’d been the one to walk away more scathed. Three of their eyes were starting to swell, there was a bruise developing on their left cheek, and there was a faint yellow crust, which he knew was dried blood, around the slits that he had learned were their nostrils. He could see another bruise poking up from under the collar of their shirt. In normal circumstances, he probably would have been impressed by how quickly Pidge had done such a good amount of damage, considering he was sure the fight had been broken up in a snap, but now he was only concerned as to what this would do to their alliance with the rest of the Dindurians.

“So, what happened here?” Keith asked as he approached, coming to stand beside Shiro.

“Pidge and Jaugg had themselves a friendly debate that got significantly less friendly the longer they discussed,” Shiro said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Only because I don’t feed into statements made using sweeping generalizations, pure ignorance, and blatant racism!” Pidge seethed, turning to glare back at Jaugg, pure venom in her tone and look.

“Oh, come off it!” Jaugg scoffed, rolling all four of their eyes.

“You come off it! You don’t get to walk around here, talking that level of shit, and not expect someone to sit your ass down and explain why you’re wrong! Or, in this case, knock you on your ass because you’d rather be an igno-!”

“I see that things are still rather heated in here,” A calm voice chimed in from the doorway. They all turned to see a much taller, older looking Dindurian walking in.

Jaugg sucked in a breath. “Sage Hatur… Ma’am, please, take some sense into them! They think I have conducted myself in a way unbecoming when I have not,” they pleaded softly.

Sage Hatur seemed unimpressed, her luminous blue eyes shifting from the younger to Shiro. “I would like to apologize for this, Captain Shirogane,” she said, dipping her head, before turning to look at Keith, “as well as to you, Head Paladin.”

Keith blinked a bit in surprise. “I… I’m afraid I don’t follow,”

“We hadn’t actually discussed the whole situation yet with him, Sage Hatur,” Shiro said calmly.

She blinked a bit in surprise before turning her attention back to Keith. “Regardless, though, apologies are owed, and consequences must be dealt,” she said patiently.

“Consequences?” Keith parroted.

“This young one has been saying incredibly unkind things about yourself,” Sage Hatur elaborated, indicating Keith with a tip of her head. Her gaze then moved back over towards Jaugg, who was looking away in a mix of anger and shame, and her eyes narrowed to a glare. “These are not the behaviors I expect of one who looks to numbers and research to come to conclusions. As such, it is in the best interest of Voltron’s continued success that you be suspended from our research team and sent home.”

Jaugg looked up at their leader, eyes wide in horror.

Keith blinked before holding up a hand. “I appreciate your concern for my feelings, Sage Hatur,” he said calmly, “but I think that this seems a bit extreme. I think getting roughed up by Pidge here is enough of a sign that, regardless of what they think of me, they should perhaps keep it to themselves.”

“Are you sure, Head Paladin?” she asked worriedly.

He nodded. “It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it certainly won’t be the last,” he said with a shrug. From the corner of his eye, he could see Pidge squaring up, as if she were ready to launch herself at him next.

“Regardless of it happening before or likely happening again, I do not think this is something that should simply be disregarded,” Sage Hatur said gently, reaching out to set a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You do not desire to be treated impolitely for crimes you neither committed nor support.”

“I understand and respect your stance on this subject. Please just consider letting the matter drop here to be a favor you are doing for me,” he said, offering her a small smile.

Sage Hatur let out a small sigh, squeezing his shoulder. “You are a much kinder soul than you need to be. I shall yield to your request,” she said. She lifted her head to pin Jaugg with another strict look. “While I cannot force you to change your thoughts or feelings, I will advise you to keep them to yourself going forward. Now, hurry along. You are not so grievously injured that you cannot resume your normal duties.” And then, she glanced over at Shiro again. “Also, Captain, I had something I had wished to discuss with you, if you should have the moment to spare.”

“Of course. I think I’ve gotten the point regarding peaceful conflict resolution across to Pidge,” he said, glancing at her briefly. When he turned to walk off with Hatur, however, Pidge rolled her eyes and screwed her face up in a small act of defiance. Keith offered her a raised eyebrow, but still seeming miffed at him, she answered him but turning away from him.

It reminded him quite a bit of one of Lance’s temper tantrums, what with how theatric she was being.

Jaugg hopped of the exam table and started walking out once Hatur and Shiro were almost out of the room, clearly wanting to put some distance between them. They paused briefly to glare at Keith as they walked past. “My opinion of you remains unchanged, half-breed scum,” they growled.

“That’s fine,” he answered, completely unaffected. He’d heard that one so many times that a small part of him almost wanted to tell him that, if he really wanted to get under Keith’s skin, he would need to think of a more original insult.

They seemed alarmed by that before glaring again, swearing at him in their native tongue, and then storming out of the room on Sage Hatur’s heels. “You didn’t need to humor that asshole,” Pidge snapped suddenly, voice tight with anger.

He turned to face her and shrugged. “Like I said, he isn’t the first to act like that just because my Mom is Galra. And I know that he won’t be the last,”

“You shouldn’t have let him get away with it, though!” Pidge argued.

“I can deal with it,”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” Pidge growled, clearly frustrated. She threw herself back against the exam table, throwing an arm over her eyes, and he outright laughed at the spectacle she was being.

“Okay, Lance,” he teased, walking over to sit beside her on the table.

“How dare you,” she said quietly, lifting her arm to look up at him. There was no real venom in her words, though, and some of her irritation seemed to have subsided. “How can you let stuff like that go? They’re basically saying you’re an awful person just because of what alien race your Mom is from. I mean, that’s just super messed up, don’t you think?”

“It is, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to do it. And if they decide that they want to keep living in ignorance, that’s their decision. The people that matter will always defend me, or be willing to have their opinion proven wrong. There’s no point in getting mad over it,” he said with a shrug.

“You? Not seeing a point in getting mad about something?” she asked, sitting upright. She then pressed one of her hands to his forehead. “Are you sick? Dying? On some magical Black Lion peace vibes nonsense?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, I just… I’ve learned, I think, to only worry about the things that really matter or count,” he said.

“Huh. Sounds boring,”

“Kind of is. But, hey,” he hummed, flashing her an amused grin, “at least it gives you something to do, right?”

She blinked then smirked. “You do have a point there,”

[tacitoru]

Dance to This (m)

pairing: fuqboi!jhs x reader

genre: smut, dance majors!au

warnings: light bondage (?), thigh riding, self-gratification lmao

wc: 3k

notes: an old draft i found collecting dust in my wips from a year ago. i think it meant to have more plot and detail but I’m not entirely sure lol editing this was more as a mental break from my current stuff than anything else and i can't remember what my original idea for this was but enjoy lmao

synopsis: in lieu of your injured partner, you’re forced to work with one of the biggest mistakes you’ve made in your college career.

Some of the most important things came in pairs; shoes, lungs, chopsticks, dance partners.  Yet much to your inconvenience, you had managed to become the mismatched sock in an otherwise perfectly organized dresser drawer of neatly rolled - and paired - socks. Four weeks before one of the largest showcases in your college career, your dance partner Jimin, a sophomore prodigy, had badly twisted his ankle slipping on black ice that had frozen along the steps outside his dormitory in the aftermath of a winter storm. While the boy would still be able to dance in a few months' time, your instructor was quick to find someone to fill in the blank. Rather than your more preferable idea of turning your duet into a solo, you were haphazardly thrown to the whims of one irksome Jung Hoseok.

It wasn't that he was terrible. It was far from that - he was too good, and he knew it.

Flawless transitions, a body that moved with all the expression, ease, grace and passion you could only hope you portrayed. His performance pushed the limits of perfection and inspired awe to those who spectated, upper and underclassmen alike. And it just so happened he would be performing in the same show with you at the end of the semester, in an effort to attract the attention of big-name dance companies. To secure a future in the industry.

Yet the unbalanced dynamic caused by a long and awkward history between the two of you seemed to threaten all of that.

"Does it hurt?"

The question sounds silly the moment it leaves your mouth, and the odd look on Jimin's face most likely mirrors yours. Obviously, it hurt. But Jimin, the angel that he was, only smiles brightly and wiggles his toes in the cast. "Only a little."

Jimin, practically a contemporary dance prodigy, still had a year to go, hence, he avoided many repercussions of not being able to participate in the show. You, on the other hand, were grinding down to the last semester at your performing arts school. While it wouldn't be impossible to get a job teaching at a studio or even at another school, it wasn't what you were looking for - wasn't what you had dreamed of.

And now, with Jimin's eyes drowning you in that well-known look of pity, that dream felt very, extremely out of reach.

You shot up out of your seat, feeling your skin crawl and your ears burn under that familiar feeling of irritation. A hot feeling filled your head with all the pent-up frustration from the situation that had long gone out of your hands. You need to get out.  For a fleeting moment, you're tempted to step on Jimin's other ankle out of pure (unwarranted) pettiness. Damn you for leaving me in a position like this.

"I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing alright…" You hope your smile looks more amiable than it feels.

The boy nods, extending his arms as if going for a hug, and then quickly retracting into a half wave as though he's thought better about it. Over the grueling hours and months you had spent practicing hard together, you and Jimin worked together like a well-oiled machine across the floor. You were good partners, even nearly friends, but close was something you were not. At the end of each day, you both went your separate ways. Still, it felt wrong for this to have happened and to not stop by the hospital, no matter little of value the relationship was to you.

As you reach the door Jimin calls out to you, "Are you heading to the studio?" He eyes your attire and the gym bag you shoulder as if that if not an obvious enough answer.

"Yeah."

"Is everything going okay with Hoseok?"

The fingers that rest of the doorknob curl around it in an iron grip. You glare hard at the scuffed tile floors, biting your tongue at the slight idolization you hear in Jimin's tone just at speaking the man's name. He had always been a bit of a fan.

"It's great," you lament, pushing through the doorway. "Fucking fantastic."

There is only one studio ever open past ten o'clock at night, and you are one of a handful that ever wanders in there so late at night after an already taxing day spent on these very floors. So when you arrive to find a sliver of light from the doorway and heavy bass of an R&B song trembling the walls of the corridor, the sense of frustration from earlier that evening only seems to balloon. Kicking the door open and fully intending on forcing the person out of the studio, you're stopped short by the sight before you.

Two closely intertwined half-dressed bodies, moving erratically and jammed up against a foggy wall length mirror jump apart at the sound of the door slamming into the wall behind it. You mentally wince, knowing that someone's instructor will spaz when they discover a door handle sized dent in the drywall.

Jung Hoseok stands in a sweat-sticky tee, hair tousled, slowly tucking himself back into the draws and basketball shorts that had fallen to his shins, looking a hell of a lot less perturbed than the girl he was just dick-deep inside. This - this was exactly why you refused to be partnered with him.

The girl (one you vaguely recognize from an Intro to Tap class you took on a whim) looks frazzled, struggling to simultaneously reach for her leggings and pull up her bra. She opens her mouth to exclaim in anger, but you beat her to the punch.

"What the fuck is this."

You stretch in silence. It's always like this now, as opposed to the pop music blasting over the stereo Jimin would play during warmups, the mild hellos and good mornings, the partner stretches or the comfortable small talk made between switching positions. Now, with Hoseok, the closest thing to a greeting is a nod or a grunt. Warming up is done in radio silence, save for the days like today when you remember to bring your earbuds and turn the volume too low for your new partner to hear, but loud enough to block out your thoughts and the awkward tension that's more deafening than the silence.

Today is more uncomfortable than others, for a multitude of reasons. You can hardly turn your head in Hoseok's direction, the image of him pinning your old classmate to the mirror by the arms and the flash of his bare ass forever printed to the backs of your eyelids. You say nothing to him though, having shared more than enough words when all he had replied to your outrage was with a shrugged off, "Practice."

You had cursed him and his accomplice out, reprimanding them for misuse of school facilities. A reprimanding that had, apparently, gone right over their heads, because while the girl had at first a little decency to appear sheepish, she had shoulder her way past you to the door hissing, "killjoy."

Despite the fact that the previous night's events had only amplified your cold attitude toward him, you could feel Hoseok's gaze burn hole between your shoulder blades. You had a three-hour practice together before a break for lunch, and although it had only just started, you were counting down the minutes.

Little was said for the first half, aside from "Let's try that again," and "One more time from the top,". Despite being thrown into it at a moment's notice, Hoseok is a fast learner and picks up the routine quickly. However, when it gets to the point where the instructor allows you to practice without him for the last hour and a half, Hoseok feels unnecessarily entitled to fill the void. Most days you don't mind a little constructive criticism. Yet today, when his hands unexpectedly go for your hips in the middle of a turn, you practically leap three feet in the air before stumbling out of his reach.

You whip around to face him, hands planted on your hips. "Can I help you?!"

Hoseok has known you've been on edge all day, yet the look on his face is one of genuine surprise at your outburst. He blinks. "You're moving your hips all wrong."

"Wha-?"

"Your hips," He falters when you move further away from him when he reaches for you again, sighing exasperatedly. "You look super stiff like you're trying to twist your way out of a tight pair of jeans. There's no fluidity."

Chin tilted in his direction, you keep your defensive stance, still mentally gathering your bearings. The image of bare thighs flash across your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to screw your face up at the memory. "Excuse me? Instructor Lee said that I was doing this perfectly fine-,"

Hoseok snorts, "Instructor Lee doesn't want to hurt your fragile little feelings."

"My feelings?!" Is he not the damn professor?

"Y/N, I know what happened yesterday was a little…unprecedented. But if you want to be taken seriously at this showcase, you have to focus and be able to handle constructive criticism."

"Taken seriously?!" At this point you're just parroting what he says, his condescending tone rendering you shocked into disbelief. You've quickly gone from defensive to full offense, advancing on Hoseok. "You, of all people, are the very last person to talk to me about being serious! Especially after that stint the other night. Can't you take your private business somewhere a little more, I dunno…private? How do you expect me to just unsee whatever the hell that was? I can't sleep, Hoseok. I have nightmares. Don't you know how much this sucks? How much more stress you've caused me?!" At this point you've got a single pointer finger digging into his pectoral with so much force he bats your hand away with a hiss.

"Look, I think you're exaggerating a little too much-,"

"And I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. This isn't a game, Jung. Don't you know how much I want this?!"

"You don't think I want this either?!" Hoseok barks back, appearing more than a little miffed.

"You certainly don't act like it."

He huffs again, shaking his head dismissively. "Look, I'm not ecstatic that we got paired together so last minute either, but we could work so well together if you would just stop being so tightly wound-,"

"-You're the reason I'm so wound up-!"

"Then let me undo it!"

The words hang in the distance between you, which Hoseok tries to close in a quick succession of steps that bring him far too close for comfort.

"Excuse me?" You lean away,  tilting your chin to glaring up at him incredulously over the bridge of your nose. Is he offering what you think he's offering?

"Let me help you relax," he reiterates. "If it means you'll be more compliant."

"You say that as if this whole mess is my fault.  And as if I'd ever get comfortable enough to let you put your hands on me again," you scoff.

"Y/N… You know I can do it. You know I can get you there. It's a matter of morals, really. Stop being so stiff." Your name rolls from the depth of throat in a low growl. His hands hover by your sides as though he's fighting the urge to initiate physical contact, fidgeting fingers curling into fists. Suddenly, you're reminded of every other hapless run in you've had with Jung Hoseok for the past four years, how they all started like this and ended the same. A long progression of tension, sly looks, flirting, wandering hands and an offer that you had never taken upon until your junior year because you never thought he really meant it. You had thought were better than that and had more self-respect than all of the other girls before you who had succumbed to such encouragement on his part. But that night, when you had caved in because he was so damn earnest and you had managed to convince yourself he really did care, was the night that had solidified the true nature of your relationship and revealed the real character behind one determined, dazzling Jung Hoseok. When he had left you alone, in a stranger's bed in the heated aftermath of a house party held by the friend of a friend, only to reappear into your life the next day with another girl on his arm. You had felt played. Hence began the year-long tirade against anything and everything Hoseok related - until now.

"Having a sense of self-respect and morality makes me stiff? What, so you wanna bang me against the mirror like you did to your other little friend?" you sneer. 'I didn't think you'd take me for someone so easily. "

His eyes flash, more than likely reliving that night too, the last time you had ever really talked to him outside of the studio. You grip the hoodie that's tied lowly around his hips and yank him an inch forward so that you can nose up to his ear.

"Fine. I'll let you help me, but we'll do it my way this time."

And then you're shoving him backward, towards the balancing bar, quickly untying the knot of his sweater sleeves as you go. Hoseok trips over his own feet, all of his usual elegance and grace lost as he struggles to comprehend your intentions. He grimaces when his back hits the wall. "What are you doing?"

Blatantly ignoring him, you place your free hand on his shoulder pressing down, the other still holding the sleeves of his hoodie together. "Kneel." His brow furrows at the command, but he complies none the less, slowly sinking to the floor.

A feeling of satisfaction thrums through your veins at the sight of him like this, knocked off his pedestal and quite literally a few feet beneath you. In a single motion, you ruck the hoodie up from his waist, pulling his arms up from under his biceps in the process. Stepping closer so that you stand over his knees, Hoseok awkwardly attempts to reach for your waist, yet you slip the hoodie around his wrists and tie them to the bar in a haphazard yet decently secured knot.

"I said you're not going to lay a hand on me." You hiss, wedging a foot between his knees, you direct him to slide his feet from under himself and prop his legs up. Much to your surprise, your toes brush up on his crotch, finding him already half hard.

You flash him a mocking smile. "Already?"

Hoseok only looks down at the floor in response, cheeks flushing red with shame.

"It's alright. You've always been one to take what you want." He watches you with wide eyes as you undo the strings of your sweatpants, gaze quickly flitting to the mirror, and then the door.  "Now it's my turn."

"What about the door?"

A bolt of panic runs down your spine. It's daytime, and despite it being so close to lunch hours, it is more than likely that anyone could walk right in and catch you in the act. However, you remember the light in the hall, the unlocked door, the unworried look, and nonchalant air that which Hoseok had carried himself when you had found him and that girl, and you realized that he didn't really care. He couldn't have. It makes you all the more determined, and a little bold.

You step out of your sweatpants and gradually lower yourself into his lap, pinching his chin to divert his attention back to you in a show of bravado. "Let them see, then."

Straddling his left leg, Hoseok's eyes become impossibly wide as you begin a steady gyration over his thigh. "You've always had such nice thighs Hobi. How about you put them to some good use."

Slowly but surely you move your hips along the ridge of muscle in his leg, one hand on the balancing bar and the other on his shoulder for support. The pressure on your core brings a thrill of pleasure down your spine, heat filling low in your abdomen. A breathless sigh escapes you, and Hoseok groans at the sight before him. You nearly laugh at the sight of his petulance.

"Didn't think it would turn out like this, would it?" Knees braced on either side of his legs, you grind down harder. When your kneecap brushes the bulge between his legs, Hoseok gasps, responding with an erratic buck of his hips. He tosses his head back, hiding his face in the crook of his right arm. The answer to that question would be yes, but he senses that you're not looking for an answer; you already have one. "Leaving the door open, not even the slightest bit surprised when I came through the door. You knew what you were doing last night." You seethe in his ear. "Think of how unfair you're being; fucking her while you're thinking of me."

Hoseok growls. "Who said I was thinking of you."

"Nobody had to." You roll your hips into his thigh faster, seeking that self-satisfaction, and Hoseok hates it. He wants you pinned to the floor, beneath him, his mouth on the alluring juncture between your neck and shoulder, and his hands on any bare skin he can possess. Instead, here you are, rendering him subdued while you use his body to get you off like some kind of toy.

"I-I didn't even know that girl was coming last night. I-I was waiting for you," Hoseok confesses, albeit reluctant. "Wanted to get your attention again."

"Well, now you've definitely got it." One particular motion results in the material of your panties to chafe directly at your clit, causing you to stutter. "Oh, f-fuck!"

You're ridiculously wet, evident in the dark streaks left in the fabric of his red shorts. Hoseok gathers the strength to look at you again, moaning at the sight of you working yourself on him. He flexes his leg and you falter again, whimpering. You're close, he can tell. For a moment Hoseok fidgets against his makeshift restraints.

"I could make you feel so much better if you would just let my hands go."

"Not happening," You admonish gripping his jaw with the hand not on the bar when Hoseok tries to toss his head back again in frustration. "Look at me - no, look at me."

Your partner's replacement is forced to watch as you whine and wriggle yourself to completion on his leg. The pressure of your knee on his crotch leaves little to no relief, and yet he bucks up in a last ditch effort anyways. When you finally hoist yourself up, shiny streaks stick to some places where the edge of his shorts meets his bare skin. Hoseok nearly gawks at the site. Meanwhile, you pull yourself together, hiking on your sweatpants and turning to gather your things.

"Hey!" He realizes your intentions and begins to panic.  You throw him a bored look over your shoulder, halfway out the door. In his stupor, he recognizes it to be one far too identical to his demeanor the other night. Except for this time, it's no bluff. "Untie me?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Please?"

Instead of granting his wish, you slowly stride over to him, pulling out your phone to snap a quick photo of him. The fantastic, Jung Hoseok, God's gift to the world of performance arts, looking disheveled, distraught and tied up to a balancing bar. It was too good to pass up.

"Okay. I've had my fun." With one good yank, you release the man from his confines and stalk out of the practice room. "But don't think it'll be happening again."

[all-hail-the-witcher]

save your strength and stay alive

so so so

today is,,,fizz’s birthday !!!

yeah my two internet friends have birthdays one day apart what were the heckin odds

anyway so forever ago I wrote this au where Albert was this weird low key villain and now heres part three

part 1

part 2

_____

ship: I honestly dont even know, failed ralbert, platonic sprace ??

genre: the phattest angst

warnings: character death, car accidents, bleeding, lots of blood, abuse mentions, sex mentions, mentions of low key cheating, sorta panic attack, major guilt, sad stuff, rain, thunder storms, cursing, be careful kids

editing: m e h

words: 2030

_____

Spot squinted into the rain, flinching every time a boom of thunder banged in the sky above him. The wind was howling, almost drowning out the pounding of his heart that sounded in his ears with every breath. The dirt road was thick with mud and he knew that he could get stuck at any moment.

But getting stuck wasn’t an option. He had to find Race.

Hopefully there was still a Race left to find.

The rain was coming down in sheets so thick that even with his headlights on high he could hardly see a foot in front of the car. It didn’t help that he was on one of the back roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains and was, hence, surrounded by trees.

But, this was Race’s thinking spot. There was a clearing about another mile or so down this road that Race would go to when he was overwhelmed and needed to clear his head. Spot couldn’t imagine that there was any other place he could have gone, but he had made Romeo stay at home just in case Race decided to come back.

“Fucking hell,” Spot cursed as a crack of lightning pierced the sky. He hated the thought of Race being out in this weather: alone, miserable, and suffering. They wouldn’t even be in this predicament if it weren’t for Albert Fucking DaSilva.

Spot still couldn’t believe that Albert had intentionally hit Race. It didn’t matter what someone’s past was, any person should have the decency and the sense alone not to hit someone.

And then there was the fact that he had made out with someone mere minutes after hooking up with Race. Spot understood that one night stands came with their own set of rules and were not for those, like himself, who had standards, but it seemed odd to him that Albert had decided to make out with Finch when Race was standing in the same room and then have the audacity to ask for a round two.

But then again, what did his virgin ass know?

The bottom line still remained though: Albert had hurt Race worse than anyone had in years, and, once Spot found Race, they were not allowed near each other again. There was no one in the entire world that Spot cared about more than Race and Romeo. At this point the both of them practically lived with Spot and his mom since Race’s dad was never around and when he was he was always drunk and both of Romeo’s parents spent weeks on end in DC where they worked with the Secret Service.

The three of them had grown up together and vowed to always protect each other. He and Race had wreaked havoc on a few of Romeo’s particularly nasty exes. Spot was certain that he and Romeo would be doing the same to Albert. No one messed with their family.

There was a piercing BOOM! and Spot jumped, losing control of the wheel for a second. His tires slid across the slick mud and he struggled to regain control of the car.

“Fuck come on!” Spot tensed his arm muscles as he turned the wheel as hard as he could into the skid. His foot fumbled for the brake pedal and he put all his weight into slamming it into the ground. He held his breath, waiting for the car to stop and hopefully not skid into the tree line, but, just when he thought he was safe, he felt his car smack into something very, very solid.

Spot’s eyes flew open - when had he closed them? - and was met with the sight of the bed of Race’s unmistakably totaled pickup truck smashed into the front of his car.

For one second Spot sat paralyzed with fear, a million scenarios running through his head: he had just killed his best friend, no, Race wasn’t in the car, no he had to be in the car, but, since he had hit the bed of his truck maybe he was okay, Spot’s airbag hadn’t gone off so maybe it wasn’t that bad but he could be bleeding out or dead or dying or severely injured or dead he could be dead he could be dead what the hell was he doing he could have just killed his best friend-

Spot wrestled with his seatbelt and pushed open his door, not even feeling the rain as it soaked him through. The drivers door of Race’s car was smashed in -which later Spot would realize meant that the accident was not his fault because he had hit the bed of the truck, not the side- and after struggling with the handle for a minute Spot gave up and went around the passenger’s side. Thankfully, the door was fully intact on this side and Spot pulled it open.

The first thing he registered was Race leaning against the wrecked drivers side door and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then he saw the blood.

It was everywhere. On the seats, the door, the dashboard, the floor the shards of broken glass, and Race’s clothes, face and hair. Spot had never seen so much blood.

He pulled out his phone, praying that there was service out here in the middle of nowhere in a rainstorm, and dialed 911 - better to do that now than when he was choked up and overwhelmed by his actions later.

Then he ducked into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind him. If he was going to die, he might as well be a little less soaked.

“Race?” Spot called over the rain. “You with me?”

There was no response.

Spot’s stomach clenched and he scooted closer, extremely mindful of the broken glass scattered around him. He reached out to touch Race’s shoulder, but stopped short when he remembered the earlier interaction with Albert.

“Fucking DaSilva,” Spot muttered, opting to instead lean closer to his best friend. “Antonio,” he said firmly. “Can you hear me?”

Please respond, please respond, please respondpleaserespondpleasepleaseplease-

“S-sean?”

And just like that, everything was okay again.

“Yeah, I’m here, it’s okay.” Spot tried to sound soothing despite his nerves and the terrible looming thought that he was the one responsible for the accident. But, he needed to hear it from Race. “What happened kid?”

“Seanie, you’re-” Race coughed painfully and Spot winced, “uh, bleein’. Wha’ ‘appened?’”

“What?” Spot was confused and looked down at himself briefly before remembering that he was not the primary concern. “That doesn’t matter right now, kid. Can you tell me what hurts?”

“M’ ‘ead,” Race mumbled, closing his eyes again. “An’ m’ leg is stuck.”

“Okay.” Spot surveyed the wreck and saw that Race’s left leg was, in fact, pinned between the seat and the crushed door. Spot then noticed with alarm that there was a bloody stain on both the driver’s window and the steering wheel that matched with the injuries on Race’s head. At first, Spot wondered why the airbags hadn’t gone off, but then he remembered that Race had taken his airbags out to replace them with better ones because when he had bought his truck there had been a recall on them, but had never gotten around to it.

Spot put his head in his hands. He had insisted that Race reinstall the airbags in his truck, but clearly he hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe if he had tried harder this wouldn’t have happened. Like maybe if he hadn’t agreed to let Race go to that party he wouldn’t be bleeding out right now. Maybe if he had just put in a little more effort, cared a little more this wouldn’t have-

“S’potti’?” Race’s weak voice pierced through Spot’s thoughts. “Wha’s wron’?”

There were so many things he could have said. I’m sorry I let Albert hit you? I’m sorry I let you go to that party? I’m sorry I didn’t force you to put those new fucking aribags in your truck? I’m sorry we’re sitting here right now? But Spot instead blurted out: “I’m sorry I hit your truck and hurt you like this, I skidded on some mud and it was dark and raining, and I didn’t see you until after I had already hit you and I’m just-I’m so sorry Tony.”

“‘ean, no, i’ wasn’ you- i-” Race’s words started to run together more, but there was a firmness behind them. “I’ wasn’ you. I’ ‘as som’ guy, he ‘it me ‘n drove away, an’ I go’ pushed int’ ‘he door, ‘n then a few mi’ut’s ago somethin’ ‘it th’ back o’ my truck ‘n my ‘ead jus’ bump’d th’ ‘teerin’ wheel, ‘n-”

“That was me Tony,” Spot whispered, cutting him off. “I hit the back of your car. God, I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to, you must be in so much pain, I-”

“No, no,” Race mumbled. “‘topp’d bein’ able t’ feel mucha anytin’ afta th’ firs’ few minutes o’ so.”

This comment did absolutely nothing to calm Spot’s fears.

“‘re you okay tho’?” Race asked, cracking open his eyes again to look at Spot. “‘f your ‘urt you needa take care’o yourself.”

“No, I’m fine kid. Don’t worry about me. The ambulance should be here for you soon anyhow and if they decide I need help, I’ll let them help me.”

Race shot him a sideways look that almost made Spot laugh before his eyes fluttered shut again. For a few painful seconds the silence between them was filled by just the rain pounding on the roof.

“I wish I never let you go to that party,” Spot whispered, toeing at the worn carpet with his boots. “Then none of this would have happened.”

“Don’ be sorry,” Race muttered, barely audible over the rain. “‘s betta this way. I was neva gonna ge’ betta anyway ‘n I was gonna de’troy m’self at somepoin’, betta now than latah, ya know? I’ve fough’ so ‘ard already anyway. There’s no poin’. Least I gotta ‘ave sex wit’ a hot guy on’ las’ time befo’ I died.”

Spot’s head snapped up. Why was Race acting so self destructive? He had probably just had a panic attack and that combined with whatever injuries he had sustained had sucked the last bit of energy out of him. Spot knew that that wasn’t good, Race always gave up in some sense after a panic attack, and he couldn;t have him doing that now, especially not now. He needed Race to keep breathing and survive this.  

“Tony? No, hey, I need you, a lot of people need you, and you're gonna be fine anyway. The ambulance is gonna be here soon and they’re going to help you. It’s all going to be okay. Save your strength, okay?” Most of those words were for Spot’s own sake. He knew it was a very real possibility that Race would not make it, and Race’s own calmness toward the situation was not helping. Whenever Race had previously been injured, he had been freaking out and his state of calm was only adding to Spot’s nerves.

“Sean,” There was a sadness to Race’s voice that Spot had never heard before, “Everythin’s not goin’ t’ be okay, ‘n tha’s alrigh’. You’ll be fine, Ro will be fine, ‘s gonna be okay. I’ve ‘ad som’ time t’ think abou’ it. Jus’ know ‘s not your faul’ alrigh’?”

“Antonio, no, stop that,” Spot felt tears spring up behind his eyes. This was it, he was losing his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. What did you say to someone who had already accepted their death? What were you supposed to say? Did it even matter anymore?

“‘s okay Sean,” Race whispered. “I-” He coughed again and Spot felt his heart clench. “I love you.”

“I love you too, kid,” Spot whispered.

“‘ell Ro I lov’ ‘im too.”

“I will,” Spot promised. “I promise.”

“Thank you fir everythin’,” Race struggled to keep his eyes open. “I couldn’ ‘ave ask’d fir a betta frien’.”

“Of course Antonio,” Spot whispered, watching powerlessly as Race’s eyes fell shut and didn’t open again. “Of course.”

_____

and thats that

there will be one more installment and hopefully you wont have to wait 6 months oops

hbd fizz

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[teenwolf-rarepairs]

Indulge me with dallison

ddo they have a lot of arguments? if so, over what? They argue and headbutt a lot, though with time it’s with less frequency.

who apologizes first? in what way? is it hard for either of them to apologize? It varies from time to time. They’re not usually vocal about it, so they apologize silently, by sitting near the other, with small touches, until the tension between them recedes and that’s it. If it’s a really bad fight, then one of them might actually say they’re sorry. 

which one has more insecurities? over what? Derek is very insecure, not about himself, but about their relationship. He’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Allison knows it, and though she doesn’t like it she understands and tries to reassure him with her actions.  

who gets more riled up? do they show their anger? They both get riled up fast, and they’re also very vocal about their anger. They say hurtful things that they know will regret later, but they don’t mean them (not all of them, at least).

how do they hide their pain when they’re upset? do they try to hide their pain? They’re both stubborn and their pride gets in the way, so yeah, they try to hide their pain. Allison acts somewhat mean towards him, and he acts aloof and cold until something gives out. 

who tries to make up first? does it work? It depends on who started the argument, or who was meaner to the other. If it’s Allison she knows better than to leave Derek alone with his thoughts, so usually she’s quicker to try and make up. Derek on the other hand knows better than to try and apologize when she’s angry, so it takes more time that way. And sometimes it takes more than one try. 

would they hate-fuck if they were mad at one another? if they had a falling out? Before they get in a relationship, hate-fucking is how they blow steam off. But once feelings get involved, they don’t do it anymore since it reminds Derek of Kate. 

do they hold grudges? is it hard for them to let go/forgive each other? Yes, it’s hard for them to learn how to forgive each other. They’re both prone to hold onto grudges for a long time, so they have to actively work on letting go. 

is there something big that could potentially tear them apart if it was revealed? Not really. They got together after all the terrible sh*t happened, they’ve already seen the worst of each other, so there’s nothing that cuould be revealed bad enough to shake them up. 

if something already happened to tear them apart, what would make them come back together? is it even possible? It would depend on what happened. I don’t think it would be impossible, but it certainly would be very difficult, for sure. 

what’s their favorite pass time when they’re upset? Allison trains until she’s too exhausted to even think. Derek does something similar, working out until he tires himself, or occasionally reads the odd novel. 

who do they confide in when shit hits the fan (besides each other)? Allison goes to Lydia, undoubtedly. Derek is not the type to talk about his relationship, but if he really needs to, he goes to Stiles. Or more like Stiles picks up he’s upset and nags him about it until he talks. 

is it hard for them to talk about their feelings openly with each other? if so, is there any way that can be resolved, even in the slightest? It’s hard for both of them. For Allison because she sometimes feels like opening up like that is weakness, until she learns the difference. For Derek because he’s scared that if he appears vulnerable, he’ll be played and manipulated again. 

who grieves more when the other is away? They don’t grieve each other’s absence and cope with it busing themselves in whatever thing is at hand at the moment. 

who misses the other more, or really thinks about them more? Allison misses Derek a little bit more. Is not that he doesn’t miss her, but he is used to being alone and deals with the feeling better than her. But he thinks about her more. 

do either of them have a special item (an article of clothing, a necklace, a book) that they use when they miss the other? if so, what is it? what do they do with it (read, wear, look at, smell)? After Allison lost Kate’s necklace, Derek bought her one with a little crescent moon and an arrow going through it and she loves it. He keeps a scarf that belonged to her and usually carries it on him if she’s not around

who cries more? who gets more emotional in general? They’re both emotional, but Allison cries more, though is not that often. 

do either of them have the other’s stuff lying around their house? Allison has a lot of stuff lying around Derek’s house. Spare clothes, a backpack, a journal, pajamas, slippers. She even claimed half of his underwear drawer with her own underwear. Derek pretends to be annoyed by this, but he loves the way it’s now their space, not just his. 

how about teasing? do they tease each other while in a fight (whether it be with themselves or just general teasing)? If they’re fighting with each other, they get too engrossed in the argument to even think about teasing. If they’re fighting someone else, they’re either supporting each other or trying to calm down their partner before anything gets physical. 

do either of them have any vices? No. 

what’s the thing they miss most about each other? Allison misses the way he makes her feel confident. Like she could conquer the world if she wanted and he’d be sure she doesn’t need help to do so. He misses the way she pushes him out of his comfort zone but also grounds him when he needs it. 

what’s their go-to breakup/angst song? Impossible - James Arthur

who’s more jealous? Allison. She’s not insecure, but she really doesn’t like when someone flirts with Derek. 

who is the first to forgive? Surprisingly enough, Derek. 

what’s the one deal breaker for either of them (lack of communication, fear of commitment, etc)? It would be Derek’s fear to repeat his past mistakes. He’s constantly worrying about it and Allison gets fed up with it, even though she tries really hard to understand him. That and their misscommunications. 

who would take longer to let go? do they ever really “let go”? Derek would have a harder time letting go but eventually he would, even if it takes him a long time. For Allison would be easier, but not less hurtful. 

which is more afraid of confrontation? They seek confrontation, they surely ain’t afraid of it. 

who’s the first to distance themselves (if either)? Derek. That’s his patented move. Allison only allows it for a short period of time, then she makes him confront her. 

who’s more patient? is it hard to break that patience? They’re not very patient, but between the two of them it would be Allison. If that patience is hard to break, depends on the situation and her mood. 

who’s the first to blame themselves? Derek, no doubt. Though he’s also quick to blame her. 

who’s more likely to do something out of spite? Allison. Old habits die hard. 

who would be the first to say they hate the other? would they mean it? Allison would say it and she’d mean it just a tiny little bit. 

who worries more? Really hard to say, because both of them. 

what scent reminds them of the other? Allison loves that Derek always has this piney smell on him, underneath the leather and his cologne. And Derek can’t exactly point out her scent, but it reminds him of long forgotten summer afternoons, like something sunny and citric. 

do they have any regrets (regarding the other, or just in general)? They regret a lot of things, in general and specially regarding each other. 

who’s quicker to walk away if a situation gets heated? Derek. His favorite coping mechanism is denial and avoidance, so he’d be really quick to walk away if things get too heated for his taste. 

who is more prone to anger? They both are, though Allison’s anger is explosive while Derek’s anger is cold. 

who cries more in an argument? do either of them cry? Allison cries because she gets frustrated and sometimes really wants to punch him, but she has to refrain herself, so she cries instead. It’s a way to relieve the impotence. 

does it take a lot for it to get to the point of yelling? Not really, sometimes their fights escalate real quick and they’re rising their voices before even realizing it. 

who sleeps on the couch? can either of them sleep without the other? Derek does. And is not that Allison makes him, he willingly goes there because he’s headstrong like that. Until she tells him he’s being absurd and coaxes him to go back to bed because they can sleep without each other, but is better if they’re together. 

who’s more likely to protect the other? They both are. 

if one of them gets injured, who worries more? They’re pretty even here. They both had sustained mortal injuries, and they can’t help but worry something like that could happen again. 

who would be more afraid of the other’s death/harm? They’re not afraid of death or harm, but they have lost a lot of family and loved ones, so both of them hate the idea of losing another person they love. 

who ends up yelling first? are they always yelling when arguing, or do neither of them yell at all? They don’t always yell, but who starts doing it depends on the situation. 

who would be more likely to save who? Allison is more likely to save Derek’s ass, since he has like zero regard of his personal safety and sucks at planning strategies. 

who stays up at night brooding? Derek’s second name is “brooding”. 

who has more dreams/nightmares about the other? Derek has nightmares about her. It makes her feel kinda bad, but is not like he doesn’t have reasons.

who comforts who after a bad dream/event? They comfort each other.

do they think about each other a lot? does it affect their performance/schoolwork? They both avoid fantasizing about anything when they’re doing something important, so no. 

if one of them were to come back after a long time, who would come to who? would it go well? would the other person take them back? Allison would come back and it could go very well or very bad. She’d have to gain Derek’s trust (again) and he’d have to prove that he’s grown enough for it to work. He might consider taking her back and vice-versa. 

[thepilotanon]

springbeauty ii

{masterlist}

Everyone was so sweet in sending comments about the first chapter and I’m...so happy and blushy just thinking about it. Thank you all so much for sending so much love, and hope you will continue to follow! Hope you enjoy!

warning: joe bang almost revealing his alter ego

The Logan brothers found themselves inside Joe Bang’s home, sitting on the loveseat in what was assumed to be a makeshift living room. It also had a small coffee table, cluttered with empty beer cans, hand tools and some half-filled jars with unknown powder and liquids with scribbles written in Sharpie on the glass. There was an old box TV on the other side, and a rocking chair but other than that, it just seemed to fit the lifestyle one would think Joe Bang would live in.

“Yer lucky I didn’t go all James Bond on yer ass,” Joe Bang grumbled as he came from the kitchen with a frozen bag of peas, throwing it at Clyde who was holding crumpled paper towels to his nose. “Trust me, I’ve watched those movies and memorized all his moves, I could’a gotten you good.”

Removing the paper towel from his nose, Clyde sniffed softly before pressing the frozen veggies against his face, scrunching his brows at the sting. His nose stopped bleeding as soon as Joe Bang calmed down...after Jimmy jumped on him and put him in a headlock. The older man eventually called uncle and realized that Clyde indeed was gushing blood between his fingers as he held his face. Although Clyde was expecting Joe Bang to yell at him for his unannounced request, he certainly wasn’t expecting a direct punch to the face. Despite being a soldier, having gone through hell and back of training and taught how to defend himself from many dangers, Clyde honestly couldn’t bring himself to keep up with Joe Bang’s attack.

As the ex-convict eventually sat down on the rocking chair across from the brothers, Joe Bang looked between them with narrowed eyes before speaking.

“I would...like to properly apologize for hittin’ ya on the face,” he started slowly, hands on his knees. “As someone who considers you...a friend, of sorts, it was very wrong of me.”

Clyde didn’t respond, instead waited patiently for him to continue. “But, lil Rosabelle comes first before any friend o’mine, that’s just how Joe Bang does it. So, hearing you say you want my blessing, I only assumed the worst.”

Jimmy crossed his arms, still mad about his brother’s injured nose. “Now what the hell would you assume to be the worst in Clyde askin’ to marry Belle?”

Scratching his shaved head, Joe Bang tried to keep his temper down. “Well, I didn’t want to know ya wantin’ to marry her because you knocked her up.”

“WHAT!” both brother shouted, and Clyde hissed at the pressure on his nose while Joe Bang gave them a look.

“Listen, not like it’s the first time a situation like that were to happen, and I ain’t judgin’!” he claimed strongly. “And frankly, I don’t even wanna hear ya say ya been busy with Rosabelle in a naughty way like that - protection or not!”

Jimmy groaned when Clyde remained silent, holding the bag on his face to hide his red cheeks. Joe Bang decided to ignore the younger brother’s lack of response. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, I don’t want lil Rosabelle to end up like her own mother, alright? She tried hitchin’ up with Rosabelle’s daddy when she found herself knocked up, and that’s how the kid ended up with her grandparents: abandoned, ‘cause her folks took off and didn’t look back! God only knows what happen to those bums.”

“Her folks up and left her?” Jimmy raised a brow and looked to Clyde.

“She don’t like talkin’ ‘bout ‘em,” Clyde bit out to his brother about his girl’s difficult past. “All she said was they didn’t want her, so her grandparents took her in. Never pushed her to tell me anythin’ more.”

“Nevermind that,” Joe Bang waved it off. “What made ya think to ask me for her hand anyway? Ain’t that like some junk ya see in old movies?”

Ignoring how Jimmy gestured obviously to Joe Bang, Clyde slowly removed the frozen peas. His nose had dried blood peppered under his nostrils and mustache, and he had no doubt how bruised he looked by the numbing feeling up the bridge to under his left eye. “Reason why I’m askin’ ya for a blessin’ is ‘cause you’re the only family she got. Her grandparents are long gone, and I know how you care for Belle like she was yer own...probably better than yer own brothers, if ya ask me.”

Joe Bang nodded in agreement. “Yer not wrong there. As much as my own flesh and blood got their own charm, I admit that lil Rosabelle is like my own lil baby.”

Clyde nodded. “I know Belle cares for you, too, so it’s why I’m takin’ to consideration that it would be best to treat you as Belle’s family. Not to mention we’ve probably been through extreme bonding, on account you did suck my arm off and I forgave you.”

“Hey!” Joe Bang frowned. “I said I was sorry!”

“And I said I forgave you!”

“See, ya already actin’ like family, Belle would be so happy.” Jimmy rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch in defeat. “So what you thinkin’ Joe, can ya give Clyde an answer so we can go? Smells like ya tryin’ to make a cake outta dirt.”

“You don’t say nothin’ to the neighbors ‘bout the smell,” Joe warned Jimmy with a pointed finger, only to be gestured to the other Logan to get on with the original conversation. Making an irritated noise, Joe Bang crossed his leg with his knee and stared at Clyde. “Listen here, boy, do you really want to marry lil Rosabelle? You think this over enough or just goin’ on a whim…”

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for over a year,” Clyde confessed sourly, inhaled sharply to try and breathe properly. “Got a ring safe in storage already.”

“Why you wanna marry lil Rosabelle huh? ‘Cause she’s pretty and makes you feel special?” Joe Bang demanded. Clyde knew that this was his own way of getting deep with Clyde, to try and pressure him to say something wrong that will reveal the truth of why he shouldn’t allow him to purpose. “Think she will be yer lil housewife and all that? ‘Cause she ain’t ‘bout that kinda life for ya, robo-boy.”

Dropping the frozen bag of peas to his lap, Clyde made direct eye contact and stared at Joe Bang with no hint of fear or worry. “Belle’s the first girl who actually treats me normal, not some sorry sap with one hand and runnin’ a bar,” he said seriously. “She ain’t my maid or leverage, but my backbone and reminder that I am still a man; Belle makes my life feel worth it, unlike any other gal who’s tried to date me and all… Belle’s one of a kind angel, and I don’t want to let her go. I’d drop everythin’ I have right now so long as I can stay by her side.”

“You promise t’ make her happy?” Joe Bang asked next.

“Whatever it takes,” Clyde answered.

“Let her be her own person and don’t tie her down?”

“I’d want the best for Belle.”

“And if ya make her cry or divorce her for stupid shit?”

“I’ll let you skin me and bury me in yer backyard.”

Joe Bang clapped his hands. “Then, I guess ya got my blessin’, but don’t expect me to treat ya any nicer jus’ ‘cause I know my lil Rosabelle fancies you,” he warned seriously. “I been in that gal’s life since she was born, and only hell can try t’ stop me from makin’ sure she’s safe. I’ll wait ‘til yer twenty-fifth anniversary before I’ll start acceptin’ ya.”

A swell of joy flowed through Clyde, an irresistible grin on his face as he suddenly jumped at the pain from his nose and cheekbone. Smushing the bag against his face, Clyde used his left arm to attempt a hand shake with Joe Bang. “Thank you, thank you so much, Joe Bang,” Clyde sighed in relief, happy/pained tears tickling the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah,” Joe Bang only lightly shook the metal prosthetic. “Sorry ‘gain ‘bout yer face...but can you two get outta my house now? I got stuff I’m workin’ on.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir!” Clyde jumped a bit, acting like a kid at Christmas with the approval of his proposal. He was about to run to the door, suddenly remembering something. Turning around, Clyde dropped the bag of peas on the ex-convict’s lap. “Here ya peas.”

“Wait, ya little shit!” Jimmy hurried after him, leaving Joe Bang watching as Jimmy caught him in the yard to complain about his nose. Casually getting out of the rocking chair, the older man closed his front door and locked the deadbolt to ensure a bit of an extra safety to prevent the older Logan from kicking his ass for hitting his brother.

Back in the truck, Clyde was the happiest man, smiling through his pain as he waited for Jimmy to pull into the road. His brother, however, was more realistic at the moment. “Yer forgettin’ that yer nose is bleedin’ and ya gettin’ a nice shiner…”

“But I’m happy,” Clyde shrugged, unconsciously touching the bridge of his nose to feel the numbing pain. “...It ain’t twisted, is it?”

“Don’t look like it, but I’m takin’ ya to Syl to have her check…”

“What the hell happened to your face!” Belle yelled in shock as soon as she saw Clyde’s patched nose and black eye forming under his eye.

Sylvia had been the bearer of good news to Jimmy that Clyde’s nose wasn’t broken, but definitely will be swollen and very sensitive for a good week - if not obtain some headaches, which she gave him some painkillers. Sylvia did question her boyfriend as to why his younger brother had his tiny smile the whole time during the inspection, only for Jimmy to say that he’s just losing his mind. Once the happy train deported from Clyde’s head, the realization of his current facial injury returned and now he could feel his nose having its own heartbeat. Still, after getting checked by Sylvia and was in the clear, Clyde asked to join Jimmy in picking up Sadie at Belle’s work, where Mellie was watching her. Despite the pain, all Clyde wanted to do was to see Belle after achieving the first step in his cauliflower plan.

Now, seeing his lovely girl’s eyes full of worry as she hurried to him in her apron, leaving Sadie to look from her painting project to the approaching men, Clyde felt himself wanting to shrink.

“Well?”

Both brothers noticing the tone in Belle’s voice, they panicked.

“Box fell and -!” Clyde said with a hiccup.

“Door busted!” Jimmy yelped.

Both of them looked to each other as Belle stared at them with crossed arms, Mellie standing behind the counter with Sadie watching with an absolute confused expression. As soon Jimmy caught sight of Belle’s tapping fingers on her arm, he cleared his throat and adjusted his hat. Lightly smacking Clyde behind the shoulder before using his brother as a shield from the woman, refusing to look Belle in the eye while Mellie gesture wildly behind her best friend.

Clyde took a deep breath through his lips, feeling the throb in the middle of his face. “While I was labelin’ some boxes in the back, there was a stack behind a door near the garage office that I didn’t think to keep open. One of Jimmy’s employees came through, kickin’ the door, and knocked the stack I had...and a box dropped on me.”

“Jesus,” Belle sighed worriedly before snapping her eyes to the other Logan brother. “Jimmy!”

“Why ya yellin’ at me? I didn’t do nothin’!” Jimmy defended with both hands up. “Dammit Belle, when I saw what happened, I brought him to Sylvia and she looked him over. I was being a good brother this time, see? Nothin’ is broken!”

“I’m fine, Darlin’, really,” Clyde stepped between them and brought his right hand up to stroke his thumb along Belle’s jaw in comfort. Watching her raise a brow at him, he gave her a soft smile. “Actually think this might be a good look for me. What ya think, baby, a bartender with a busted nose? People’ll say Clyde Logan kicked some guy’s ass just with his thumb, and they should see the other guy.”

Belle rolled her eye, unable to resist a smile. “Save that for the books, handsome. You’re not going to start wearing leather jackets and calling yourself a badass that easily,” she told him amusedly while he shrugged. “I’m glad it’s nothing serious, but still…”

“M’fine, Darlin’,” Clyde reassured her. “Syl was nice enough to give me some meds for the pain and said I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Belle shook her head before looking over Jimmy still keeping his distance from her temper. “Thank you for taking him to Sylvia, and please tell her I’m very grateful for her help, too.” She offered him a smile when he eventually dared to glance her way, hoping to come off more friendly. “You took care of Clyde, like a good brother and I’m very thankful for that.”

“So long as we know who’s the smarter Logan brother,” Jimmy glanced to Clyde while Belle snorted while hugging her man in comfort. “Maybe then we won’t have any more accidents from here on out.”

“Aunt Belle,” Sadie called out while she set down her paintbrush next to the pot she was decorating, “can you show me the flowers you want me to grow in this one, please? I wanna know which flowers to paint.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Belle said before excusing herself from Clyde’s side. “They’re outside, out this way.” She held Sadie’s hand as she brought her through the small doorway, and the three siblings waited to hear the clang of the wooden door that led to the back garden for safety.

“What did you two idiots do?” Mellie whispered sharply to her brothers. “I thought you two were suppose to go talk to Joe!”

“We did, but he thought Clyde was bein’ sketchy,” Jimmy told her just as dramatic in his whispering, going nose-to-nose with Mellie. They wanted to yell, Clyde knew that very well, but didn’t want to risk Belle overhearing.

“Sketchy? Sketchy ‘bout what?” Mellie threw her hands up.

“Somethin’ about rockin’ a few too many on Belle, the stupid junk.”

Mellie’s face went blank as she stared between the two men. “Joe Bang...throwin’ punches because of he thought this was a shotgun wedding.” Thinking it over, the blonde woman sighed and pinched her nose. “On second thought, from the stories Belle’s told me ‘bout Joe Bang...I can see it. Sorta. So, I’m going to assume that you got the okay from him, then, right? That shiner wasn’t all for nothin’?”

“I got it,” Clyde answered.

“Good, then it’s time for the next step in cauliflower?” Jimmy groaned.

Walking in the familiar pathway of the neighborhood, Clyde kept his eyes down to the dirt road as Belle gently held onto his metal prosthetic as he guided her appropriately. Keeping her on the side off the road, Clyde’s robotic appendages held on to her fingertips in a sort of clamp as they neared closer to their home, his other hand holding on to the small bag that held the take-out food he ordered and picked up.

Belle glanced up to eye her man’s face carefully. “Does it hurt?”

“Not much, just kinda numb right now,” he spoke softly as a truck passed by the two. “Box filled with heavy bolts and all, didn’t really feel much until Sylvia started poking.”

Belle sighed and Clyde couldn’t resist a small smile. “Don’t worry, Darlin’, it’s not all that bad,” he said looking over to see her cute pout and puffed cheeks. Seeing her sigh again, Clyde’s gaze softened as she looped her arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I’m just happy you’re not seriously hurt.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being babied jus’ a bit for a bruise,” Clyde teased that brought a bright smile to her face, making his own heart skip a beat as she looked up to him.

“I think that can be arranged,” Belle mused, rubbing her fingers into his biceps.

Arriving home just before the sun had set, the couple ate their dinner together while conversing about their day; Clyde going into detail about what he was labeling and answering her questions about what it was like trying to label specific things in Jimmy Code, as she put it. Clyde laughed when she imitated his brother’s accent and buff build, reaching to hold her while she finished with her fruit mix, resting his chin on her shoulder before she tied the plastic bag filled with their garbage. The younger Logan brother fell to the temptation of following after her while she threw the bag in the outside trash, startling her once she turned around to find him so close.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a smile as he just stared at her with a sort of puppy-love look in his eyes. “You’re just being needy tonight.”

All day he had Joe Bang’s blessing on repeat in his mind, over and over did he hear the approval. Every time he thought of it, he got his uncommon giddiness he rarely showed in public. But now, being home with his darling Belle within his grasp, he couldn’t resist being happy with what was to come in the coming days; he just wanted to spoil her with love until then, and then after for the rest of their lives…

His right hand coming to stroke her cheek and tuck a lock behind her ear, he held her face as his smile grew stronger. “Yer so beautiful, Darlin’.”

“Next to the trash cans and working in dirt all day...I suppose,” Belle rolled her eyes with amusement before taking his hand. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head with the box, Clyde?”

“I just love ya,” he shrugged and knelt down to kiss her lips, only to accidentally bump his bruised nose against her soft cheek. Pulling back and making a face, Clyde did his best not to whine in pain as Belle watched him.

“My poor handsome man,” she cooed and scratched his scruff with her fingers. Pressing a little peck to his jaw, she took his hand and began pulling him back inside and guide him through the trailer as he kept his head back to avoid letting her to see him in pain. “Come on, let me take care of you, silly.”

That was how Clyde Logan found himself sharing a bath with his Belle, warm water relaxing his tense back muscles while Belle sat behind him, shampooing his black hair in a soothing massage. The tub wasn’t all that big to fit the both of them with elbow room, but they make it work when they take turns on who is washed first. As of now, Belle was farthest back while Clyde leaned down for her to reach his hair to wash. The way her fingers scrubbed his scalp brought him into a trance that he began mumbling, his voice deeper as he continued to praise Belle. She only giggled at his compliments and brushed bubbles from his cheek when he leaned his head back on her shoulder, spreading the suds to her naked shoulder. He was so happy to see her smile as her fingers continued to rub his hairline next and her lips press lightly to kiss his brow.

“Yer so beautiful,” he sighed in pure bliss.

“More than standing by the trash cans?” Belle teased and he resisted to laugh through his nose. “Or is it just because I’m naked with you in the tub…”

“Yer beautiful anytime and anywhere, Darlin’,” Clyde corrected.

“Why, thank you,” Belle hummed and kissed his forehead. “I think you’re very beautiful, too, handsome.”

Making a noise, Clyde was about to list all the reasons why he wasn’t when Belle pinched his cheeks. “Rinse your head, honey. Your hair is all done,” she instructed him softly, and he only nodded and did as he was told and taking the shower head to rinse.

While using the shower head to rinse all the shampoo bubbles from his hair, Clyde was careful to miss his nose before bringing his head back up. Wiping the water from his honey-colored eyes, Clyde felt Belle’s small hands grasp his chin and carefully turned him around in the warm water. Opening his eyes, Clyde was surprised when Belle leant up and angled her head to avoid his bruised nose to press a proper kiss to his lips. Realizing the intent, Clyde grinned and wrapped his stumped arm around her naked back, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. Leaning them over, Clyde dipped Belle a bit while using his other arm to balance properly by gripping the edge of the tub. He held on to her and gave her a movie-worthy kiss.

“Because you had that look in your eye when you couldn’t give me a kiss,” Belle laughed against his lips when he didn’t let up. “Are you feeling that deprived right now? Am I not giving you enough kisses, Clyde?”

“I just love ya,” he responded before kissing her again, being so happy that he couldn’t hurt his nose in this position. Pressing his body closer to hers, feeling her wet skin against his spread a warmth in his blood that sped his heart up. “I just love ma sweet, darlin’ Belle. I love, love ya lots.”

Belle laughed when he switched to her exposed neck, only to jump when Clyde yelped when his nose pressed against her. When he didn’t stop trying to nip her skin with love bites, the woman quickly splashed him. “Clyde, be careful! I don’t want you to get hurt any more!”

“Don’t take me lovin’ ma girl away! Jus’ a little, baby, please,” Clyde begged, unable to stop himself from laughing through the pain as Belle’s shoulders shook with her silent giggles. The rest of their bath time last for an hour of Clyde trying to convince Belle to let him love her when he was so happy. Unknown to her, he was dreaming of sharing a bath with her and a special ring on her finger.

Fun fact: Clyde totally hurt his nose by trying to love Belle, so Belle gave him an ice pack after their bath. His hair was blow-dried though, so he was floofy.

taglist: @ayatimascd​

Remember, if you enjoy this fic and would like to be tagged, please don’t hesitate to message me! I would be more than happy to add you on. Other than that, thank you do much for reading and hope to hear from you!

[spectrumscribe]

trust fall.

@lgbtmntweek thank you for giving me the excuse to write a soppy hurt/comfort fic for capritello, after that nasty rib cracking incident in Wanted: Bebop and Rocksteady. 

#ProtectThePuckboy2017

(slightly mature jokes told inside, but nothing even close to graphic.)

Casey probably should have expected it to happen, and should have been completely used to it by now. He decides he could just blame getting startled by tapping on his window on the painkillers.

Two shadowy figures crouch outside his bedroom window, somehow hidden perfectly, despite the sun still being in the process of sinking below the city buildings. Ninjas, honestly. They never seemed to let go of the dramatic flair with their appearances.

Then again, who is Casey to talk about drama?

He pops the window lock, and sits gingerly back down on his bed as April and Donnie climb inside. His ribs ache like nothing else, and he very acutely feels the rampant bruising across the front of his chest. Casey isn’t too broken up about it though; it could’ve been punctured lungs or possibly straight up kabob-Jones instead if he hadn’t had his gear on. And with the fights he’s been in, that they’ve all been in over the years, a few broken ribs is small turkey.

Well. Mostly. They still hurt a whole lot and make even getting to the bathroom a pain in the ass.

“You two are out early,” Casey comments, leaning back against his mound of pillows, courtesy of his dad and sister. They’d even brought him dinner in bed, which had been awesome, except also a little lonely in his room with just his laptop and Netflix. Casey doubts he’ll be lonely much longer, now that his partners are here.

“Would have come sooner, but we got held up by Leo,” Donnie says, and what’s that? Casey’s boyfriend looks embarrassed about something. Consider his interest piqued.

“We got the Talk,” April says without a stutter, earning a miserably embarrassed groan from Donnie. She always was the boldest of them with this sort of thing, once she got past the initial three-way romance issues. “He felt it was his leaderly duty to remind us to use protection.”

“We’re eighteen, for god’s sake,” Donnie mutters, dropping his bo staff off the side of the bed. “We know what protection is. And you have broken ribs anyways. We’re not. Doing that for a while.”

Casey grins at Donnie, who avoids his eyes and looks both peeved and shy at the same time and aw, still embarrassed about discussing sex things after all these months? Fucking adorable.

“I told Leo as much,” April adds on, kicking off her shoes and dropping her sword and fan with Donnie’s bo. “Also where he could stick his invasive opinions about our bedroom life.”

Casey snorts, trying to not laugh for the sake of his poor ribs. “Is that why I got a bunch of all caps texts and snapchats from Mike and Raph?”

“Probably speaking. What were they about?”

“Mostly Leo looking like he’s lost his desire to exist.”

“Then yeah, that’s what they were about. I might’ve gotten a little… strong, towards the end.”

Donnie snorts. “Try strong at the beginning and devastating towards the end.”

April shrugs and seems to regret nothing. Casey laughs and does regret it as everything hurts. “Ow, ow, ow, fuuuck this. Hey Don, can I trade you a foot massage for some mutagen? You can just change me back once my ribs are healed and stuff.”

“Uh, no, because that’s an even stupider way to heal faster than Raph’s method. Which is power drinks and in protein smoothies and even more exercise than usual,” Donnie sniffs disgustedly in the way only a medic can. He starts shoving stray pillows out of the way and moving up the bed. “Now strip. I need to look at your chest.”

April makes an interested sound, and Casey pretends to be shocked. “Oh, already? Thought you said-”

“Casey.”

Casey grins unrepentantly, and April giggles into her hands. Donnie gives them both frustrated looks he doesn’t really mean.

“You’re both terrible,” Donnie grumbles.

“That’s Donnie for ‘I love you’,” Casey says in a stage whisper to April, who laughs harder as Donnie cuffs Casey’s ear. “Ow. I thought we were treating me nicely, I’m injured after all-”

“You’re an idiot, that’s what you are,” Donnie snips. Casey sticks out his tongue, but starts to gently pull up his shirt.

April watches with her knees curled at the end of the bed, while Donnie starts examining the wide, dark bruises on Casey’s chest. Casey whines when a stethoscope comes out, frigid on his very tender skin, but breathes when asked as Donnie listens.

“Any coughing? Odd pains?”

“Uh, I feel like a walking bruise? Does that count?”

“Casey.”

“I’m fine, Donnie. The doctor checked me out, said they’d heal up before I knew it.”

Donnie frowns. His worry obviously decreases an astounding 0%. Typical.

“That was really close,” April says softly, looking very intently at the big rhino horn shaped bruise. “Too close.” Donnie looks even more frustrated and worried as she does, and Casey wants to sigh in a way his current lung capacity won’t allow. April continues, “Casey, can you promise me you’ll be more careful next time? Please? This is the second time in just a few months you’ve had to go to the hospital.”

Casey squirms a little, regrets the movement as his ribs and core muscles complain, and settles on pushing Donnie’s hands away from his chest. He pulls down his shirt as he talks. “I’m not doing this stuff on purpose, Apes, I swear. I’d avoid it if I could.”

That’s not the answer April is looking for, judging from the tight, unhappy expression she has. Donnie looks no better as he slides his stethoscope back into his belt pouches. Casey tries to lighten the mood. “Hey, come on you two. No one and nothing can kill Casey Jones- this is but a flesh wound. I’ll be on my feet and kickin’ ass again before you even realize.”

April snorts. “You would say that, even if you lost every limb you had.”

Casey grins. “You know me so well, Red.”

“I know,” April says, fond and sad. “and that’s why I know you won’t promise me to stop getting hurt all the time.”

Casey shrugs. He can’t help it. If there’s danger, if they’ve got enemies, if anyone is looking to hurt him and his- he’ll keep on fighting until it’s over, one way or another. He knows the two overly but justifiably worried people sitting on his bed are similar in that; they’d all keep standing in the line of fire if it meant if it meant protecting someone of their family behind them.

Grim thoughts like that are just a fact for them, even now that Shredder is gone. Sucks, but what can you do? It’s just life for Donnie, and to an extent, it’s just life for April.

Even if April could hide her powers and Kraang DNA the rest of her life, Donnie is a giant mutant turtle, and won’t ever have an easy time with anything. Neither of them will ever have an easy life, really. Casey’s nearly normal next to them, and he knows and accepts the fact that he’ll keep on having to meet crazy dangerous situations head on to stay with them both. He’ll get hurt, it’ll suck, and then he’ll get back up and keep on going. And that’s as much a fact as the other ones are.

Besides, he trusts them to not let him die, even when he gets in over his head. Donnie saved Leo from the brink of death once, with little more than a medical kit and determination, and April literally pulled Donnie’s molecules back out of the atmosphere. Honestly, Casey doesn’t think he couldn’t be safer than with April and Donnie, all things considering.

“I got you two to back me up, so it’s all good,” Casey says, because it’s true. “If I ever got seriously hurt, I know you guys would figure something out.”

“And broken ribs aren’t being seriously hurt?” April asks incredulously.

“Tis but a flesh wound, remember?”

April sighs. “What are we even going to do with you?”

Casey grins at her. “Hopefully things involving kisses.”

“Casey,” Donnie says, exasperated. April chuckles quietly, but stops as Donnie draws himself up; looking at Casey seriously. The mood turns as such again for a moment, and Casey sobers from his teasing.

“Just… try to stay closer to us from now on, okay?” Donnie asks, twisting his hands together. There’s that sort of desperation in his fidgeting, the kind he developed after master Splinter died. About losing people. “This happened because we got too spread out.”

Casey privately thinks that if it hadn’t been him, it would have just been someone else of their group. Someone who could have gotten hurt even worse, possibly killed. But, he doesn’t voice that thought, because it would just make the anxiety in Donnie’s eyes all the worse.

“Now that is something I can promise,” He says instead, grinning more so for Donnie and April’s benefit than his own. “Getting up close and personal with you two happens to be a favorite pastime of mine.”

He waggles his eyebrows a bit, and is pleased to see the tension break between them all. Donnie rolls his eyes, announces Casey will probably be just fine after all, and seems to let go of at least a little of his worry. April keeps smiling, fond and sad, and Casey tries to keep his private emotions in check while his psychic girlfriend is in the room. She can probably tell his slight bluffs anyways.

“So… you guys busy tonight?” Casey asks in the lull. “’cause I think I know a guy who’s looking for a movie date right around now.”

“Are you lonely, Jones?” April asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I might be something close to that, yes.”

“Leo said we should be back for evening training, but I doubt he actually thought we’d show up,” Donnie says. He kicks Casey’s legs, though with obvious care. “Shove over. I’m putting dents in your wall like this.”

“Not like it wasn’t dented before,” Casey points out, because considering how many trials and errors they’ve done on his creaky old queen sized mattress, the amount of dents and scrapes in his wall are actually fewer than there could have been. Three people is tricky, even just with cuddling and goofing off.

April starts crawling up the bed, picking carefully around Casey’s limbs, unlike Donnie. “I think there’s been enough denting of things for a while,” She says, coming up Casey’s right side and pecking him gently on the cheek. “Let’s just watch something inane and pointless and trash-talk it the whole time.”

“Fair enough,” Casey admits. He’s more than amiable to the situation if it involves being sandwiched by his two favorite people. “I just got a new season of Master Chef and Forged in Fire. How about one of those?”

“Perfect.”

“How about we vacillate between the two?” Donnie suggests, retrieving Casey’s laptop off the floor. He does so by leaning over the edge, craning himself to avoid squishing April and Casey’s legs. Neither Casey nor April is particularly helpful- poking his cartilage hard belly with their toes the whole time, making Donnie squeak and glare at them.

He still gives Casey a kiss, and then April, even though they keep purposefully bugging him as he sets up their shows. They can’t help it; Donnie is just too much fun to make squeak with well-aimed toe pokes.

“Terrible,” Donnie repeats to them both, but the scolding effect is lost because it’s between kisses.

In the end, Casey is laid comfortable against a thin pillow between his bruise ribs and Donnie’s chest, with April’s compact furnace of a body pressed up against him. April’s ponytail musses as she lays her head on Casey’s shoulder, and Donnie’s cheek rests on the side of Casey’s head. The laptop rests mostly on Casey’s lap, though it gets jostled a little now and then as their legs tangle together.

The three of them groan and snark as a bladesmith dunks his knife too soon into the oil, probably putting fissures in the blade and screwing himself over for getting into the next round- and Casey barely feels a single throb from his ribs, surrounded the way he is by protective care.

Maybe he’s not as indestructible as he likes to portray, but Casey doesn’t even spare a second thought to worrying about future injuries.

After all, when he’d been flying through the air without any left inside him, April had caught him, and held him close while Casey tried and failed to breathe right. Furiously shielding him from anything else that might’ve tried to hurt him, ferocious enough no one had so much as considered it twice. And after that, Donnie had picked Casey up like he was something too fragile to even touch, and carried him safely out of danger. Not stopping until they were on a rooftop far from the action, and then launching straight into doctor’s mode.

Casey is safe and warm now, tucked between Donnie and April both, and he’d been safe then, on a roof with the two of them looking at him with so much concern and care it’d stuttered his heart.

[spongeekat]

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) Chapter 2

read on ao3

Masterlist Here

As always, HUGE thank you to my beta reader @alurkerofnote who was super patient during my busy ass weekend! 

Day 2- Monday

“Peter?”

“Five more minutes, May…”

“Peter, dude, your phone won’t stop buzzing and the professor is getting annoyed.”

Professor? Shit.

Peter shot instantly awake, the blurry image of Mary Jane’s fire red hair permeating his sleep-heavy eyes. He gingerly picked his sore body up until he was sitting up, wiping the moisture that had gathered on his forehead away. As promised, the professor was making direct eye contact with him while she continued to speak, and her finger pointed sharply at Peter’s cell sitting on the edge of his desk. Sheepishly, he retrieved it and mouthed an apology. His thumbs drug the notification screen down, finding a few texts from an unknown number. He absently tried to listen to the lecture, but he must have slept through quite a few key concepts, because he had no idea what was being discussed. Well, just another night he’d have to spend teaching himself from the textbook.

Curiously he swiped until he arrived at his texting app, and the harassment he was receiving suddenly made sense.

hey petey-pie checkin in since u didnt message me

luv dp

u getting these???????? is this a fake number?

pls tell me u didnt die.

hellooooooooooooooo

im gonna sing until you answer

since uve been gone i been lost without a trace

i dream at night only i can see ur face

i look around but its u i cant replace

i feel so cold and i long 4 ur embrace

i keep cryin baby BABY PLEASE

OH CANT U SEEEEEEE

holy fuck balls this dude wont put down his gun ill finish the song later but pleeaaaaseee text me back <3 or ill come over

That last text was sent 3 minutes ago, and Peter could only imagine his poor next door neighbors’ faces if Deadpool decided to show up at their door. He hurriedly typed up a reply before that chance even came close to becoming reality, trying to ignore the romantic connotations of the song.

Sorry. In class. I’m doing fine. Not dead. Please don’t stop by. I live next to an elderly Hispanic woman that would have a heart attack if she saw you.

There was a uniform page turn in the rows surrounding him, and he took that as his cue to flip the page in his book. Wade hadn’t responded yet, and Peter briefly considered dipping out of school to make sure Mrs. Moreno wasn’t calling the police if Wade really had decided to show up.

i was calling my ride but im glad to hear back from u

do u need anything??

warm milk, a big hug, an xbox one?

“Who are you texting? You look like a dork.”

Mary Jane’s whispers distracted Peter from his stupor, and he realized then he had a grin tugging at his lips that had only appeared upon reading his texts. He wiped the stupid look from his face and sucked in a breath to give a well-thought out reply. “No one.”

“Ah.” The redhead pressed the tip of her pen against her rosy lips, giving Peter a knowing smile that had heat crawling up his neck. “A guy?”

“Oh my god, MJ, it’s not like that. I’m just on an app.” Peter whispered back more insistently, flipping his phone over on the desk. “Just funny pictures.”

“Mhmmm.” Mary Jane’s hum was too insincere, and it was clear she wasn’t about to let this go. “Well, you should get back to your ‘funny pictures’ before they disappear.”

“I will.” Peter murmured and swiped his phone from the desk, tucking it back under the edge of the desk. His eyes read over Wade’s texts a few more times, a few different responses dancing on his fingertips, before he finally decided to type.

I’ll be fine. Thanks for checking in.

In truth, these past few weeks had been brutal. Between tensions building in the city, accompanied by the rise of crime, and the press being hot on his ass every time he missed an opportunity to bring someone in to justice, he had been missing sleep and stressing harder about trying to become a more efficient hero in the city. The meal that Wade had forced on him was the first time he’d even touched real food in almost 2 weeks. Being pressured to have a ‘night-in’ had taken quite a lot of stress off of Peter’s shoulders for at least a day, but it also meant his body realized he was willing to let it rest for a little bit and was fighting him to try to catch up on more sleep. While the night before had been completely humiliating, it had been relaxing to be taken care of. For a little bit he and Wade had acted like more than a set of heroes, and the memory of his kindness was still burning hot in his mind.

But he wouldn’t let this go on for longer than a day. It was wrong to lie to him, even if it felt this good to pretend.

----

Being Spider-Man was simultaneously the biggest stressor and most freeing part of Peter’s day.

Saving lives and stopping crimes ranging from petty car thieves to mutant bank robbers was difficult. Balancing two lives that intermingled more often than Peter would have liked was even more difficult, often lying to the people he cared about the most just to keep them safe. It was hard navigating the grey-area between morally just and lawfully sound, and there were multiple occasions in which he felt like a criminal running from police after just busting a potential felon doing potentially bad things. He operated more along the lines of a vigilante than a hero in most cases, and it took a severe toll on his mental health. Especially lately, when the city seemed to be getting more dangerous as the presence of superpowered people increased, he had been slandered in media every which direction. Even Mary Jane praising his decisions had stopped helping. He felt like he was starting to become completely alone in the heroing thing.

And then there were the nights he was over the moon with ecstasy; adrenaline buzzing low in his ears, wind rushing up the corners of his mask and breezing over his lips, his webs snapping out from his wrists and catching his fall in perfect rhythm so he soared through the low city buildings like a bullet, his worries and stress melting off every second he spent in the air. Peter’s own personal drama and angst seemed to matter less when his focus was on helping others. No matter what was happening in his own life, he left it on the sill of his bedroom window. When he was out on the streets he was Spider-Man, not a kid struggling to keep his head above water. He had strength, allies, and a will to do good. Grades and sleep felt way less important than his obligation to New York.

Still, there were slip ups. Sometimes his lives intermingled uncomfortably close and he was left covering for both of his personas.

Peter didn’t expect Deadpool to be at this fight. His fists were preoccupied knocking a goon on his ass when the sharp zing of sharpened metal cut close to his ear. His spidey senses hadn’t gone off, warning him of the impending sword, and when he jut his chin back to check who was behind him, he knew why. They never went off when he was around Wade anymore, because he wasn’t in danger around him.

That didn’t stop the anxiety that flooded his chest cavity a second later, however. He had gotten close to making a smartass comment so they could commence their banter that took place during every fight, when the memory of who he was under the mask- who Wade was now acquainted with- hit him hard.

Shit.

“You weren’t planning to keep a good fight like this from bad ol’ me, were you? Spidey, I’m shocked!” Wade greeted as he kicked back one of the men running at him with a bat, slicing the object in two. He’d gotten pretty good at the injuring and the take-downs without the actual murder. Peter grunted in response, maintaining his focus on jabbing, webbing, and jumping out of the way when his instincts called for it. “And here I was, hoping I’d see that tight butt come swinging past me tonight.”

“Not now.” Peter muttered, ducking just in time to miss getting his skull bashed in by a dude with a crowbar. Why crowbars? Why were henchmen so obsessed with their crowbars?

“Aww, okay, I see. You’re mad at me. Was it for ditching you last night? Because I swear, I was doing good! See, there was this kid about to do a triple flip face plant into the asphalt behind my apartment, and I really wanted to make sure he was okay, ‘cause he was alone and it was late and stuff, and-”

“Can you not talk for like, a second?” Peter didn’t mean to use such an aggressive tone, especially not on Wade who deserved it the least, but hearing Wade talk about him to him when he didn’t even mean to… it was making his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He slammed his knuckles into the jaw of one of the larger men surrounding him, receiving a crack in return. Oof, that would leave a bruise.

“Oooookay, Spider-ooni. I’ll let you focus.” Wade forfeited easily, catching a heavily swung and splintering 2 x 4 with his forearm.

Peter released a satisfied sigh that he didn’t really mean, his lean body hopping out of the way of a kick to the side before he shot a web at the attacker’s face.

---

The fight only lasted another few minutes. The goons, that had decided to test their pride rather than flee the scuffle they were at a clear disadvantage in, ended up face-down on the pavement, hands bound in web-handcuffs, and with a few broken noses or crooked arms scattered among them. Peter had been a bit too forceful tonight, he could admit, but it had been hard enough to focus on reeling in his strength when there was someone else on his brain.

And then said man had showed up and blew his head right open.

They were currently kicked back on a vacant apartment balcony, Peter sitting on the rails while Wade stood a few feet away but very much present, pulling off his gloves to assess the extent of the blood stains on his armor. It was chilly, and Peter knew he’d have to head home soon, but he couldn’t really deny Wade’s invitation to hang out for a little bit after all he had done for him the night before.

Even if Wade didn’t know he was the same kid he’d been ‘saving.’.

“Soooo…” Wade cut into his thoughts, his voice drawing Peter’s attention back to the surface. He glanced over at his fighting partner, surprised to see his face aiming off somewhere else. Wade acting timid was an odd sight. “You okay?”

“Huh?” Peter’s stomach churned and he blinked, even if the action was hidden by lenses. “Yeah?” No. “Why?”

“You’ve been acting funny, that's all.” Wade shrugged, and tucked his arms up against the balcony to lean on the rails. “You avoided me like all last week.”

“What? No I didn’t.” Peter said defensively, confusion clear in his voice. He had been making his plans for days, and sure, that may have lead to him feeling too awkward to really hang around Wade, but they just hadn’t seen each other that was all.

He hadn’t made an effort to find him until that night, though, either.

Wade paused, as if he was thinking of responding but decided against it, before his tone changed and he seemed to drop it all together. “Well, it’s okay, I did a lil’ heroing on my own anyways.”

“Oh really?” Peter asked with awkward amusement, tucking his ankles between the vertical railings to keep his balance a little better.

“Yup. I stopped a kid from killing himself and I’ve been checking up on him every day. I figured you’d be proud of me since you like all that righteous stuff.”

“So you only did it to impress me?” Peter asked flatly.

“What? No no no, Spidey, I did it because I didn’t wanna watch another good person die alone. Plus, if he was like bad or something I wasn’t gonna try very hard, but he was really hot- which I know, is totally shitty to think since he was getting ready to dive, but he just seemed like a depressed nerd and I guess that might kinda be my type. Actually, that’s not entirely true, because I like when someone can make me laugh, and long walks on the beach, and...”

Peter felt a tinge of jealousy in his stomach at his description of the boy he’d saved, which was ridiculous, considering it was him. He tuned out of Wade’s ramblings and squeezed tighter onto the railing, feeling the metal bending under his fingers. Maybe it was better to keep his identities secret. After all, Wade seemed so proud of himself for ‘helping’ Peter. Was it worth taking that away? He could just avoid Wade in his personal life. The man would give up if he realized his efforts weren’t being reciprocated and Peter stopped serving as entertainment.

That’s probably all he was. Charity fused with an audience.

“...But I guess that’s why I dated that crazy chick two years ago. She had a super cute face but she was also obsessed with ending the patriarchy and killing men. I think she stabbed me a few times in my sleep, too. But I guess crazy and crazy make a great match. Even if we ended pretty badly.”

“I think I’m gonna head back.” Peter announced, tucking his toes underneath himself until he was stood on the fence. Wade straightened, looking up at him inquisitively from the balcony floor. “I have an early morning.”

“We’ll meet up tomorrow night, though, right?” Wade asked hopefully.

“We’ll see.” Peter murmured, before he shot web fibers off into the dark and took off with a leap.