#and deals with the INCREDIBLY INCREDIBLY COMMON SCENARIO of ‘what if someone moves their arm a bit and it kinks their IV line’

[grimark]

all these years later i can finally say the most unrealistic thing about the movie inception is that you have this group of people whose job depends on consistently reliable IV access, and they are apparently just always peripherally cannulating themselves plus whoever their mark is, in less than ideal conditions such as a moving train, under immense time pressure. like wtf do you do if youre in a rush to crack the lock on someone’s subconscious but your mark has tricky veins, and you still have to stick a needle in yourself and your teammates, whose veins are likely incredibly busted if they’ve been in the business any length of time. as if any dedicated dream criminal wouldnt have a portacath accessed and ready to go.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 12

Masterlist

Warning: none besides fluff and mention of treatment change.

Word count: 2.5k

It was a combination of things that woke Yelena up. There was a stiffness in her neck, and the smell of food pulled her out of sleep. She rubbed her eyes to push away the sleep and sat up quickly. Where was she? This wasn’t in her room. Instead, she was still on your couch in your suite. “Oh, you’re up,” Yelena said towards the sound of your voice. You were in the kitchen. “Breakfast is almost done. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made everything.” Yelena chuckled at your awkwardness as she stood up and stretched her arms above her head, ignoring how your eyes glanced at her shirt move and reveal her stomach.

Eggs and bacon were already made, and you were pouring pancake batter into a hot pan. There was coffee brewing in the pot with syrup, butter, and creamer for the coffee out on the counter. A weird feeling bloomed in Yelena’s stomach, but she pushed it away. “Thank you for cooking,” she began to put together her plate. “Sorry, I fell asleep here.” You poured two cups of coffee and put some food on your plate. Yelena was glad to see you eating.

“It was my fault I fell asleep on you,” you smiled. “What’s your plan for today?” Your back was to her as you focused on the pancake you were making. Yelena was struggling with how domestic this all felt. She couldn’t stop her mind from creating a scenario in her head. After a mission, she would come home and fall asleep with your arms around her. Then, she would wake up to the smell of breakfast. Maybe she could convince Stark to let Fanny stay in the tower. “Yelena, is my food that bad it’s rendered you speechless?” Her cheeks blushed at being caught.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I was stuck in my head. What did you say?” You smiled and played with the ring on your finger. Oh, you were not making this easy for her.

“What do you have going on today?” There was a lot she needed to do. Her mission report still needed to be completed. She needed to call Melina for an update on the remaining Widows under Dreykov’s control. She couldn’t remember if she had a meeting with Maria or Natasha. Instead of telling you all that, she shook her head.

“I’ve got nothing going on,” you were quiet as you flipped the pancake. “Would you like to do something?” She tried to keep the hope out of her voice. Sighing, you turned to face her with your arms crossed.

“I have a doctor’s appointment in about two hours,” you said slowly. “Would you like to go with me?” It was rare that Yelena was speechless. “I mean, you don’t have to. You are probably busy, but we can do something when I’m done. If you-”

“Dorogoy,” the Russian pet name, flowed so easily off her tongue that it caught you off guard. You tilted your head, silently asking what she said. “If you want me to come with you, I will.” She saw it as an incredible honor and a great deal of trust. She wasn’t going to waste it. You smiled.

“Okay, we’ll finish breakfast and meet on the common floor.” Yelena sipped her coffee and watched you make more pancakes. You seemed different while you cooked. Your posture was relaxed. You were humming to a tune Yelena wasn’t familiar with and danced to whatever song you were singing. You looked happy. It took a lot of self-control for Yelena to remain in her seat when she wanted to join you.

*

When you opened your door, you weren’t expecting to see Tony in front of you. “Oh, hi,” you smiled and closed the door behind you. “What can I do for you this fine morning?” You opened your bag to ensure you had your wallet, phone, and a small sketchbook.

“You have a doctor’s appointment today, right?” You nodded, and both walked over to the elevator. “Is someone going with you?”

“Yes,” you bite your lip. “Uh, Yelena is coming with me,” the man grabbed your arm to stop you before left the elevator.

“Belova is going with you,” he said, pulling you to the couch. “Why?” That was a great question, and you weren’t sure how to answer. It felt right.

“I want her too,” you shrugged. “And we may hang out after, so it made sense,” you said, sitting on the couch and dropping your bag onto the floor. He stared at you, blinking a few times, then his brown eyes squinted at you.

“Are you and Belova sleeping together?” he bluntly asked. Your eyes went wide, and you felt your body heat up.

“No,” you said quickly. Tony gave you a pointed look and sat down next to you. “We are just hanging out. Besides, I don’t do relationships with this going on,” you crossed your arms. “It wouldn’t be fair to the person I was seeing.”

“Well, whatever you do, use protection,” you groaned, throwing your head back. He was so annoying with that. The smile on his face told you all you needed to know. He liked pushing his buttons. “Are you telling Dr. Carpenter about Morgan?” Damn, that was a mood killer.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’. He nodded and stood up.

“I don’t care what you do after, but can you come back here to discuss the next steps?” You nodded, and he kissed your forehead. It was subconscious to lean into his touch. You watched the man head towards his lab. With a sigh, you placed your elbows on your knees and covered your face with your hands. It clicked on why you asked. Yelena instead of Tony, Pepper, or even Kate. She wasn’t going to try to convince you to change your mind. She said it herself; she was there to support you and not change your mind. But where are you making the right choice?

A body sat down next to you. Glancing between your fingers, you saw it was Kate and smiled. However, your smile dropped when you saw the worried look on her face. “Are you and Blondie good?” You chuckled that she used the nickname you gave the Black Widow.

“Yeah, Yelena and I are good.” Her eyes went wide; you thought they would pop out of her head. You chuckled and shook your head. “She apologized, and we decided to try this friendship again.” You winced at the term.

“Did you just friend zone here?” Kate questioned. You sighed. The archer laughed, pumping her shoulder against you. “I’m joking. I know this whole thing is complicated.” That was one way to describe it. You were so terrified of these feelings that were developing for Yelena. You wished you met her under different circumstances. “Just be honest with her,” she squeezed your shoulder as the elevator doors opened, and Yelena stepped onto the floor. She wore black fitted jeans with combat books that came to her ankles. As your eyes trailed up, her white top was cropped, and a long yellow plaided jacket was over her shoulders. “You are starring,” Kate mumbled. You snapped out of it and stood up suddenly, picking up your bag. You heard Kate chuckle next to you, but your eyes stayed on Yelena.

“Ready?” You asked. The blonde smiled.

“I am if you are,” you waved goodbye to Kate and reentered the elevator.

“Thank you for coming with,”

“No place I’d rather me.”

*

“Are you nervous?” Yelena asked as the nurse left when she took your vitals. Your leg wouldn’t stop shaking. Today would be the day you were going to tell Dr. Carpenter there was a match for the bone marrow transplant. You were terrified about how he’d take the news. You felt a hand on your shaking leg, and you jumped. “Shit, sorry,” Yelena went to pull her hand away, but you kept it there. The skin her hand touched felt on fire, but your leg stopped shaking.

“Were you talking to me?” The blonde chuckled.

“I was.” Oh. Your body felt warm from embarrassment. “I asked if you were okay.” Sighing, you shrugged.

“Just want to get this over with,” when the door opened, she removed her hand, and you hated how much you missed it.

“There she-Oh!” Dr. Carpenter stopped himself when he saw the blonde sitting in the corner. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he extended his hand to her. “Lucas Carpenter,” her eyes went up to her eyebrows as she hesitantly took his hand. He violently shook her arm, almost toppling out of her chair. You cleared your throat to cover the laugh that nearly escaped.

“This is Yelena,” you said to your doctor. The Black Widow was still recovering from her shock. “She’s a friend.” You ignored the way his lips curled up at the end. “So,” you folded your hands and placed your hands in your lap. “I have something to tell you.” The hope is his eyes almost stopped you from lying. Your mouth became dry, and you could no longer look at him. “Tony couldn’t find a match,” the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. You heard the shaky breath the doctor let out. Glancing over at Yelena, she was watching you intently. Her eyes were soft, but she kept her mouth shut. You were grateful for that.

“Okay,” the doctor said. So here’s what we do.” His voice became white noise. The stuff he was saying was important, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You were so tired, and all you wanted was a hug from your mom.

*

Yelena watched you leave with the nurse to take your blood. Dr. Carpenter sighed and rubbed his forehead. “She’s lying to me, right?” The blonde never trusted medical professionals when it came to her injuries, and maybe it was breaking your trust.

“She is,” Yelena admitted. “Her half-sister is a match, but she does not want her to go through it.” The doctor nodded and stood up.

“This is going to be very hard for her,” he told the blonde. “The best way to help her is to keep her spirits high. If she loses faith, then all will be lost.”

Your doctor’s words rang through her head as she waited for you. ‘Keep her spirits high.’ Yelena saw how you sank into yourself while he told you the changes to your treatment. She quickly texted Kate to bring her motorcycle to her location. The archer was quick to call her. “Are you dying? Do you have a gun to your head?” The Black Widow rolled her eyes.

“I’m outside her doctor’s office. I’m fine,” she deadpanned.

“You never let me touch your bike. Even when I wanted to take America on a date,” that was true; her bike was her baby. Not even her sister was allowed to touch it. Yelena glanced at the door. Through the window, she saw you speaking with the receptionist.

“Has she told you?” Yelena questioned. “About Morgan?”

“Yes, she told you?” The surprise tone didn’t hurt the blonde. It surprised her that you told her the truth.

“She told her doctor today, and I want to make her smile again.”

“That is so cute,” Kate cooed. “I’ll bring it over now.”

“Who are you on the phone with?” Yelena jumped at your sudden appearance. She hung up quickly, not offering another word to Kate.

“You,” she placed her hand over her chest. The organ was thumping against her hand. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” You giggled, and Yelena knew it was the best sound in the world, even if it was at her expense.

“Come on, let’s get back to the tower,” you started to walk towards her car.

“Actually,” she grabbed your hand and spun you around. The action caught you off guard, and you stumbled against her chest. “Well, hello there,” you rolled your eyes and took a step back. Yelena couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face. There is a coffee shop nearby that I want to try. Care to join me?” You smiled.

“Are you buying?” You asked, linking her arm with yours.

“It would be fun if I let a pretty lady pay.” Your body shook against hers.

“Shut up.”

*

You knew what she was doing. Every joke and story she told was trying to brighten your mood. It was hard not to smile or laugh at her stories. Still, this heaviness surrounded you. It was the same feeling when the doctors told you that your mom was never going to wake up. Dark. Heavy. Sad. So you tried to smile and fake it, but Yelena saw right through it. It was her eyes. They were so expressive. You found yourself getting lost in them over the coffee and pastries.

She held open the door for you to exit the cafe, and your eyes landed on a motorcycle that wasn’t there when you walked into the restaurant. You whistled. “Now that is a nice bike.” Your mom was never a fan of motorcycles, so you admired them from afar. The body of the bike was chrome black with red accents.

“I didn’t know you were into bikes,” you shrugged.

“I think they are kind of sexy,” the blonde laughed, walked over it, and climbed on the back. “What are you doing?” She picked up the helmet.

“This beauty is mine. He is a Ducati Panigale V2 with a 955 cc V-twin engine,” she explained. “He is the only man I trust between my legs.” She winked at you. You laughed so hard that you snorted, which caused Yelena to laugh. “Get on,” she said once you’ve calmed down.

“Excuse me?” you asked. The idea of being that close to her made you panic.

“I want to take you somewhere,” Yelena said, handing you the helmet you slowly took from her.

“I have to go back to the tower,” you told her. Tony wants to know what Dr. Carpenter said.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the only thing you could think of, so you did not have to get on the bike.

“Your father can wait a few hours, and I will take the blame for it,” she held out her hand. Do you trust me?” Your stomach and heart screamed yes! You trusted her for only knowing her for such a short time, but your logical brain held you back. Your brain was trying to protect your heart.

“I trust you,” your heart said. You took her hand, and she held it until you got on.

“Helmet on,” you said, placing the helmet on your head and tightening the strap under your chin. Perfect! I’ll take it slow, but lean when I lean, and hold on tight.” You let out a shaky breath and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. You huffed.

“It’s so unfair how warm you are,” the rumble of her laughter made you smile, and you rested your head on her back.

“Hold on tight, krasivvy (beautiful),” she said over the bike’s roar, and you held on tight, trusting her with all your might.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

[junicai]

tackled.

| summary | Mark hasn’t been in a group without Aria before. He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage without her there.

| word count | 2.4k

| warnings | none

| era | circa. December 2018

n/a: to the anon who requested more superm stuff, i hope this is to ur liking~ a little bit of background before i start writing some actual scenarios for the team :)

Aria wasn’t quite sure how to function; or how to deal with the fact that she was sitting, legs crossed, back ram-rod straight, in one of the smaller conference rooms with Lee Sooman sitting across from her looking a world more comfortable. 

Taeyong on her left and Lucas on her right, Ten a seat down and Mark beyond that. The plastic seats were less than kind to her aching tailbone, but Aria was mildly (read: incredibly) more preoccupied with the thought that she was wearing a faded hoodie and black workout leggings that were old and worn, sitting in a conference room with Taemin, Baekhyun and Kai. 

She was pretty sure the day couldn’t be going much worse. That was until Sooman's voice snapped her from her inner turmoil and she looked up at the CEO, raising a bottle of water to her lips with a lightly quivering hand.

“Aria, you’ll be joining as their eighth and final member.”

Water rushed down the wrong way in her throat, the muscle spasming as Aria choked and banged a closed fist against her chest. Taeyong’s hand flew to rub circles in between her shoulder blades, patting gently as she heaved, trying to re-catch her breath.

She takes it back. It just got worse. 

“Sir?” Aria wheezed out, taking in a stuttered breath as she looked up from the table to meet the CEO’s eyes. 

“SuperM is a concept group designed to take those that excelled in their respective groups and use that as the foundation to create something bigger. You’ve all made a name for yourself; both within the group and individually.” Sooman took a breath, lifting his hands to drum his fingertips across the wooden table. The dark oak was glazed, and Aria belatedly realized that this conference room was so small as it was the CEO’s personal room. His name was imprinted on the front of the door, gold paint enhancing the grooves made. 

He continued talking, focusing his attention on each individual member from his seat, explaining their ‘roles’ so to speak. Aria caught small snippets, chest still rising a beat too quickly for it to be ignorable and her racing mind building up a cascade of thoughts that were rising up in tandem. 

Baekhyun you will be the leader - Taemin as - I think it’s important, no crucial that you remember - this is not a time for - you’ll understand my expectations in time - a common ground for those that - merging the eras -

Aria flinched violently when her name was called, head snapping away from where it was boring holes into the wall just over Taemin’s shoulder. She had yet to make eye contact with a single one of her seniors, having taken a single glance around the room upon arrival and dropped herself into a near 90 degree bow. 

“What with the incredibly - albeit unexpectedly - positive response that came with your inclusion in the various NCT units, myself and my team think it fitting that you’d belong in a group such as this one. Obviously your English speaking skills are a benefit, although I am not so sure that your accent will be as tolerable to the American media as Mark’s here would be. But I’m getting ahead of myself, we can circle back to that in due time.” Sooman leant back in his chair, resting his arms against his sides. 

He looked satisfied with how the meeting had gone - given that all but one member of the newly established team had signed their agreement into another contract, having handed out a thinly spaced document a few minutes prior. 

Aria sat back, pen cradled in her hand as Sooman shuffled through her contract in his hands, as he had refrained from giving hers out with the others. The CEO dismissed the other members, calling for Aria to remain seated for another few minutes. 

As the seven boys stood from their chairs with muffled screeches from the rubber capped legs on the chairs, Taeyong let a hand brush over Aria’s shoulder once. His face was pinched into something, lip caught between his teeth but Aria waved him off with a smile that didn’t lift her eyes. 

Exiting the room, Mark glanced back over his shoulder catching a glimpse of Sooman already leaning forward in his chair and Aria sitting up straight. Attentive. And then the door swung closed, clicking shut with a soft snick and Mark couldn’t see either of them anymore. 

It had been a week. 

Mark had meant to ask Aria what Sooman had wanted to discuss with her privately, he really had. But between schedules and commuting and a million other things that had appeared on his ‘To-Do’ list overnight; he hadn’t found the time.

Either he crept in to the dorms a few minutes prior to the clock striking twelve with barely enough energy to take a shower, or it was Aria slipping in on light feet, sliding in to her bedroom with a quiet goodnight. 

She had been disappearing more often; despite the fact that Mark was near certain that she didn’t have anymore schedules than the rest of them. Not even Donghyuck had been gone as often as her, and the two of them were prepping for NCT Dream’s next album together.

The thought settled bitterly in Mark’s stomach, so he brushed it aside. A million other thoughts filled the space left; equally as acidic. 

Had she signed in to the group? Had she declined? Was there something else going on that Sooman needed to talk to her about? Was she going solo? Was she leaving them? He knew that she’d been offered the opportunity before - it nearly decimated her and Donghyuck’s friendship - but had she accepted this time? Is that where she was going? Why hadn’t she talked to anyone else about it? Why hadn’t she talked to him? 

His head was full of these thoughts running on a cycle. He tried his best to shake them out. 

The dorms were never full anymore - someone was always gone doing one thing, or practicing another, or discussing something else. 

Mark thinks that this was his least hectic day in the last seven. But it was definitely the most stressful.

His hands were sweating and he rubbed his damp palms against the black material of his joggers, an anxious bounce in his knee. Lucas was leant against the wall beside him, tapping a finger against his thigh. 

Scanning around the room, Mark saw his seniors - his groupmates, as odd as it was to acknowledge - in various degrees of unrest. Taeyong appeared relatively calm, although Mark could recognize the tense set of his jawline and he made a note to remind the leader that he had to stop grinding his teeth unless he wanted to do some damage. 

Ten had his phone in his hand and an earbud in one of his ears, seemingly engrossed in watching a video. Mark could see the dangling headphone jack; unconnected to the phone. The video was paused. 

As for a first practice together, Mark assumed that this was not how it was meant to go. How were they meant to perform together if they couldn’t even start a simple conversation? 

None of the NCT boys had seen the choreography for their first single yet, Mark hadn’t gotten around to asking had his seniors managed to get a sneak peak or not. He didn’t think he ever would, at this rate. 

The practice room was quiet, filled with an unsettled air of anxiousness although that may have just been the younger boys projecting, as Taemin looked entirely unbothered, with Kai leaning over his shoulder. 

Baekhyun’s head snapped up as the door to the practice room was closed, shifting up from his seated position on the floor to greet their choreographer. 

“Ah, hello,” He began, nodding his head in a greeting bow.

“..Hi?” Came a smaller voice than he was expecting. 

“Riri?” Lucas said, pushing himself off the wall. “Hey, you alright?” 

Aria was shifting from her left foot to her right foot, hands twisting the fabric at the end of her hoodie. Taemin tilted his head, and noticed that it was the same hoodie she had been wearing the week previous. 

“What’cha doing here, Ari?” Ten asked, moving to stand closer to the girl. 

“I’m here for - for practice? Right?” Aria turned the questioning on him, glancing at Ten and then turning her gaze on Taeyong. “Right?” 

“For SuperM?” Mark was confused. 

“Yeah?”

Aria had her eyebrows pulled together neatly, staring at Mark, who’s face had crested through about eight emotions in the last second, finally settling on a rather odd mixture of relief and pure, childlike excitement. 

“Mark wha-” She cut herself off with a yelp, hands flying to grip Mark’s shoulders as he tackled her around her middle. “Mark!” 

The boy in question only squeezed her tighter, lifting her off the ground a little. Aria squirmed in his grip, but as soon as Lucas’ arms were added to the equation she went lax, knowing that her chances of escape had just dropped to zero. 

“Dude- oh my god,” Mark was laughing, a light breathy laugh. “Dude I thought you didn’t sign it? What was all the secrecy about?” 

“What... secrecy?” Aria wheezed out. “Mark I can’t breathe-”

“Oh, sorry sorry.” 

Aria was put back down on her feet, but Mark’s arms didn’t leave her middle, choosing instead to tug the girl into a hug. “You kept disappearing, I thought-”

Mark hissed in pain when Aria pinched his hip. “You’re such an idiot.”

“What?”

“You know you can talk to me?” 

His cheeks flushed pink. 

Luckily, Lucas saved him from the conversation, pulling Aria out from Mark’s arms and into his own. This hug was more violent, and Aria was lifted and swung around in a circle once, twice, before demanding to be put back down. 

“We’re in a group together!” Lucas was beaming down at her, and Aria couldn’t help but to grin back. “Yeah we are!”

“Group hug!” Ten yelled, and suddenly Aria found herself in a tangle of Mark and Taeyong and Lucas and Ten’s arms, the four boys hugging her tightly. 

Aria laughed, trying her level best to fit them all in her own hug. They stood there for a minute, arms entangled in a rather terrible mimicry of a knotted ball of yarn. 

“Ah hyung, they’re so cute.”

Taeyong coughed, and the five-person cuddle unraveled quickly. 

Aria spun around to see Taemin, Baekhyun and Kai all standing together on the opposite side of the room. Taemin had a fond look on his face, while Baekhyun had his tongue caught between his teeth to stave off a smile.

“Not to ruin the moment or anything, but does anyone know where our choreographer is?” Jongin peered down at his phone. “It’s been twenty minutes, are we in the right room?”

Aria cleared her throat.

“Uh, about that bit.”

Mark’s head snapped over so quickly he might have given himself whiplash. “Ari?”

“I might? Be your choreographer?” The statement came out more like a question, and Aria spread her hands out in front of her. “Believe me, I’m not quite sure how that one happened either, but if it’s going to be a problem I really have no issue with, like, not doing it? I know I’m the youngest and I don’t want to be rude or anything I-”

Mark tackled her in another hug. Aria was pretty sure her ribs were going to be bruised after this.

“Literally shut up.”

“But!”

“Shut up!” 

“You’ll do a great job, Aria.” Baekhyun smiled over at the younger girl. “Do you have anything prepped, or have you heard the song yet?”

Aria shuffled awkwardly. “I have something? It’s only a rough draft really, and obviously its subject to change because, well you’re all here and whatever suits you best is the best option so,” She took a breath. Taeyong slid over to put a hand on her back, but said nothing, still waiting for one of the older members to take the lead. 

“Can you show us? None of us have seen the demo yet, just Jongin.” Taemin grumbled, poking the boy in question in the stomach. Jongin flicked him back. 

“Uh, yeah? Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Wait wait, Ari. Is that what you were talking to Sooman about?” Mark caught her wrist to stop her from leaving the practice room. She had lost the hoodie a few hours ago, and her hair was pulled back into a sad looking ponytail. Tired and weary, all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and spend the next three hours with her face buried in her pillow. 

But Mark’s question made her stop. “Uh, yeah. Yeah he just wanted to talk to me about my, responsibilities in the group, so to speak.”

If Mark was a little less exhausted and a little more alert, he would have caught the odd phrasing, but he was a lot more exhausted and a lot less alert than on a regular day, so it flew right over his head. 

“Ari, that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.” He went to pull her into another hug. 

“No! Ew get off what’s with you today! Why’re you so cuddly, get off get off you’re gross and sweaty.” She knocked her hands against his chest to try and get him to move away.

“I’m just proud of you~” He sang, swaying her back and forth. “Was gonna miss you if you didn’t sign with us. ‘Dunno what to do without you in my team.”

Aria’s protests died down slowly, and her fists stopped to rest on his chest. She snorted once, poking him in the chest. “Don’t lie, you just didn’t want to be the maknae, you can’t fool me.” 

“No~” Mark continued to whine. “Really, was gonna miss you.” 

“Okay, okay, you big baby. I’m not going anywhere - you’re going to have to try harder than that to get rid of me. Now let go, I want a shower.”

[cocobittiebites]

Hello!! This is my 2nd ask.. I just wanted a Scenario when Hisoka is being Saved by a extremely Powerful Woman who has a very cold Appearance... This Woman saved him during the fight of Chrollo.. Sorry for my Second Ask.. I'm just really loved him.. By the way I'm very satisfied on your blogs😊😊😊😊😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️

TELL ME WHY I FORGOT I WROTE THIS A COUPLE DAYS AGO???? LIKE FR THIS WAS DONE ON THURSDAY- talk about forgetfulness 🧍🏻‍♀️

Some things that I added cuz creative liberty and all that jazz: y/n is apart of the main four (well it’s five now on my blog ig), I just love found family ok. Also it gives her depth and a decent reason how she knows Hisoka. Her nen ability was based off of my favorite six of crows character, Nina Zenik (who i also probably based her personality off of)

Also fair warning I can barley understand Nen and how is works whenever it’s explained so yeah here is me bullsh*ting it 🧍🏻‍♀️ I tried for y’all though...

Hisoka x fem!reader

TW: Hisoka being Hisoka, mentions of blood and gore (not that much but still), really this is pretty tame compaired to a lot of things on this app, y/n has strong opinions

Why did she have to get tangled up with this clown yet again? No amount of money is worth dealing with this.

At least she had the intuition to view the fight from her room at Heaven’s arena. From the looks of this the two fighters completely disregarded the sanctity of common courtesy as they brought the audience in their petty quarrel. 

Men and their egos.

The hypocrisy of the situation never ceased to amaze her.

He’s mad that Hisoka sold out the troupe and had a hand in the death of their members? Really? After they probably done far worse? 

She watched up on the screen as the audience members began flying towards the aforementioned clown, internally jerking back as Hisoka’s arm was completely severed.

Just like his fight with Kastro.

But it wasn’t like his fight against Kastro. This was a fight against the leader of the Phantom Troupe and this Chrollo guy��.he was no joke. At least in his fight against Kastro it was like a game in his favor. Here though, he was the prey and this Chrollo guy seems vengeful. 

As she focuses on the magician, the situation seemed to hit Hisoka.

It was all incredibly dramatic.

And incredibly stupid.

A huge explosion erupted. Bodies piled up. Chrollo’s the last man standing. 

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

The words chant in her head like a sour requiem. A feeling of dread washes over her psyche. A wave, a panic arises. Her body moves involuntarily and she runs out the door towards the arena. Once she’s there she stills and takes a breath.

Stop being dramatic….This situation is exactly why he asked you to be here.

As a manipulator she could control a person’s hearts. If she was ever caught in a fight she could practically stop an opponent and give them an artificial cardiac arrest, not that she couldn’t fight her way out without her ability. With this ability she was also able to slow someone's heart rate, either calming them or putting them to sleep. The downside of it was that she had to be within a fifteen foot radius of whoever she’s using it on and there needs to have been a point of contact with the other person within an hour's time frame. 

Aura is all around the body you see, and the core of it is the heart. If it was any other organ, like the brain for example, without a modifier like needles, her nen ability would not be possible. Call it her individuality complex, but something about modifiers made her equate it to people like Illumi Zoldyck. It left a bad taste in her mouth. 

There also was a chance that if she overexerted herself, say stopping more than 3 peoples hearts at a time, she could overwork her heart rate and die. Then again, there are downsides to everything. 

Really it was an ability she was particularly proud of. Well she did develop her nen faster than the others. When she showed Gon and Killua her ability they started bombarding her with endless questions. Though there wasn’t a name for it yet. Leorio and his ever present doctor knowledge just kept spewing out heart-related medical terms.

Cardiac is a good name though. 

God. She really missed her friends.

At least you get to see Kurapika when this is all over.

Back to the matter at hand. Hisoka is dead and before he died he asked her to restart his heart to bring him back to life. After much harassment from him against her and her friends, she was bound to say no, however fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny. A bag is a bag, could you blame her?

Schooling her face she enters the ‘arena’, if you could call it that. The place was completely decimated. The ceiling was ready to crumble completely. Dead bodies littered the entire room. The iron smell of blood wafed up her nose, cringing internally.  In the middle lies Hisoka, face mauled, a missing nose, and several severed limbs. 

Geez, it's like he wants to make her job difficult. 

Peering over to the entrance on the other side she spots a certain pink-haired spider. Machi stands above Hisoka as she uses her nen stitches to put his limbs back together. 

Oh so this is his plan.

She takes no precaution in disguising herself through Zetsu, as she pulls her face into a stony exterior. It works as the pink-haired woman senses her presence and turns up in arms towards her. 

“You” Machi spits out.

“Me” she says mockingly.

“What are you doing here.”

Pointing to the man himself, “The clown wanted me to restart his heart,” sauntering over to where Hisoka’s body laid there, “a fail-safe, if you will.” 

Machi rolls her eyes, “I thought a goodie-goodie like you wouldn’t help a guy like him?”

Shrugging her shoulders she walks up to the spider and brushes Machi’s hair behind her ears, “Fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny.”

Machi doesn’t say anything. Paying no mind the girl kneels down to the magenta magician. His face, once handsome, now bashed and torn up. She wouldn’t admit it to him but she felt a small pang in her heart at the sight of him. 

You shouldn’t feel bad. He’s the cause of his own ruination. 

Placing both hands on his chest she feels for signs of where his heart is. Once finding it she focuses her aura into her hands and into his heart. Raising her connected hands once she pushes down roughly, in turn restarting his heart. Hopefully he still had some blood flow still lingering in the brain. 

It took a minute but after a while of pumping his heart herself she felt his breath even, indicating that he would be fine on his own for now. In a moment of relief she watched his eyes flutter open. 

His eyes focused, slightly dazed and disoriented, but surprised that he is seeing at all. Still he sees her towering over him, as icy as fresh fallen snow. Her expression is blank, devoid of any hatred or fondness. Still she’s ethereal like this. Light shrouded her like a halo, as if she was an angel of death. For a moment he thought he had died and entered a Heaven he did not deserve. 

What a welcome sight <3, he thought.

Machi looked at the pair stunned. So that’s what her nen ability is. Chrollo isn’t going to be happy about this. Slipping past the pair, she left the room to tell her boss about this new development. 

“What a coincidence Y/N, I didn’t know you cared about me this much,” his signature smirk marring his face. She watches as he fills his gapping nose with bungee gum and covers it with his texture surprise. 

Vain as usual.

She scowls at him, “I care about your wallet,” saying it as coldly as possible. 

“Ouch that hurts~” 

“You literally just died.” 

“So now your concerned, hmm~” 

Rolling her eyes she asked, “Well, I hope you learned something from this experience.” Raising her hand she checks his pulse, “What are you going to do about Chrollo and his gaggle of arachne?” 

“This was a sort of wake up call so to say~,” he sits up moving closer to her face, eyes darting towards her petaled lips. He reaches over to caress her face, but she swats his hand and glares, “From now on I won’t give my opponents a choice when and where we fight, it makes things more...interesting.” The magician reveals at the thought. 

Oh how magnificent our fight will be, Y/N

“As for the troupe, I plan on hunting them down,” he moves closer to her ear and then whispers, like a promise between two lovers, “one. by. one.” 

Leaning back to see her cold exterior crumble was a sight to see. Her eyes, wide and shocked, looked like a doe in headlights. Her mouth, deliciously agape, felt tempting to touch. There he was, powerful and sadistic Hisoka, toying with whether he should worship the woman in front of him or break her. 

Decision, decisions. 

“Either way I’m going to need someone to rip their hearts out with.” 

Oh~, this is where the fun begins <3

[thiswasinevitableid]

i don’t know if you take meet ugly requests outside of the list, but if you do, I’m always a sucker for stern finding out barclay is bigfoot in a different way (wink wink nudge nudge they are having sex and the bracelet comes off)? no problem if not though :)

Sure thing! Here you go. I believe the joke about "bigfoot hunting" came from @bellafarallones originally. I set this in the 70s, just for fun.

The irony of his worst-case scenario being everyone else’s euphemism for a good time is not lost on Barclay.

He’s not even sure when “bigfoot hunting” became code for “get down in the woods” in Kepler’s little gay community. He just knows that, until someone cleared it up for him, he was panicking from all the guys saying they and their friend ought to go looking for him.

Now he’s in the wildest situation imaginable: considering asking someone to go bigfoot hunting with him.

It’s not his fault the stone fox that is Joseph Stern decided to stay at Amnesty Lodge. Ned and Aubrey even tried to talk him out of it (for the very good reason that the fewer out of towners hanging around a space crawling with cryptids, the better) but the guy wasn’t interested in the other digs in town. In his more confident moments, Barclay likes to think seeing him behind the lunch counter is what swayed his decision.

It’s not a totally bogus conclusion; Joseph sends more than just meal times in Barclay’s restaurant and, increasingly, his kitchen. He does crossword puzzles over coffee, asking Barclay for help and criticizing the clues (Barclay has to agree with him, whoever is writing the crossword in the Kepler Gazette is really reaching lately). He stops by and reads at his table or the counter during lunch. And in the evenings he sticks around after closing, keeping Barclay company as he wipes down tables and sets up the chairs. Lately, he even helps him close up.

The encroaching summer is making it worse. Joseph, stylish as he is, favors this year’s trend of shorts that are shorter than most of Barclay’s boxers. Combine that with his always slicked-back black hair and sharp, blue eyes and Barclay is getting really, really good at keeping something in front of his crotch at all times.

For the first two months, he thought his crush on Joseph was as hopeless as cooking a souffle in a hurricane. Then the songs started.

They’d been talking about music, Joseph paying close attention whenever Barclay mentioned a band or song he dug. Barclay didn’t think much of the concentration in his eyes until that night, when the jukebox near the counter started wailing out Gladys Knight. No one ever picks that, he just put it in there so he can listen to it before they open.

When he’d poked his head out of the pass-through, Joseph winked at him from his usual seat.

Since then, he and Joseph trade songs back and forth, Barclay slipping his coins in when he goes out to drop an order on the counter. The longer they do it, the more the titles seem to convey messages, meaning Joseph’s favoring of “Let’s Get it On” this past week is driving Barclay to distraction.

This afternoon, he’s sweeping up the floor when the other man walks in, sweat running down his forehead and hiking boots on his feet.

“I saw you’re closed the next two days.” He tips his head at the sign Barclay posted on the door.

“Yeah, getting new cooktop and doing some repairs on the ceiling. Not great for business this weekend, but I’m looking forward to having a stove that doesn’t have cold spots in random places.”

“Are you, um, doing anything on your days off?”

“Nothing big. You, uh, you wanna hit the town?” He grins to hide his hopes.

“We could. But I was thinking, you know the forest pretty well and I could use a second set of eyes and, well...do you want to go bigfoot hunting tomorrow?”

Barclay directs just enough focus from keeping his hands from snapping the metal handle to his mouth to say, “sure thing.”

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

“According to the map Ranger Newton gave me, this spot is still within bounds for camping with the permit I have.” Joseph studies the treetops, the brush, their proximity to the river and his second map, the one with all his notes. Yes, this is the optimal spot for a stakeout.

“Sweet.” Barclay opens the trunk, “I’ll get the tent set up.”

They have plenty of daylight left, but it won’t hurt to have camp all ready to go before they set off; if all goes well, they may not be back until after dark, and he’s pitched enough tents in the pitch black for one lifetime.

He secures their food and builds a rudimentary fire pit, then grabs his sleeping bag to toss into the erected tent. Barclay is still inside, straightening out his sleeping bag and adjusting the pillow. Joseph kicks off his shoes and zips the mesh door to keep out the bugs; cicadas are harmless but that doesn’t mean he has to like the idea of one crawling on him in his sleep.

“How’s it look?” Barclay watches him intently as he unrolls the sleeping bag.

“Perfect. Nice and cozy.”

A happy growl from beside him, then a big hand closing around his wrist and pulling him atop the cook.

“Good” Barclay looks up at him, licking his lips, “didn’t wanna waste any time.”

Lord, his chest is broad from this angle. Joseph’s professionalism is all that stands between him and spending the rest of the day leaving hickeys on it.

“Barclay, I’m not opposed to this, but we should do what we came here first.”

“...Is this not why you wanted to come here?”

“I thought I was pretty clear about coming to look for bigfoot. Why do you think I brought the binoculars? And the headlamps?”

Beautiful, brown eyes blink up at him. Then, Barclay chuckles, “Think I see what’s up. Around here you, uh, you ask someone on a ‘bigfoot hunt’ if you’re looking to score. No idea why, but it’s so common it didn’t even occur to me that you’d mean something else.”

He snickers, “Almost sounds like something I’d come up with on my own. But no, we’re spending today walking that creekbed.” Curious, he wiggles his hips as he leans down to whisper, “then we can spend tonight like this.”

Barclay whines, settling his hands politely on Joseph’s ass.

“You’ve wanted this awhile, haven’t you big guy?”

“Uh huh, Joseph, baby, the things you do to me, woulda let you fuck me over a hot stove if it meant you’d touch me-” His eyes are huge, pupils blown out in black pools of promise.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal; I’ll let you ask for one thing now. Everything else has to wait until we’re done with work for the day.”

“Yes, yes, deal, I, I wanna” Barclay closes his eyes, inhaling long and deep through his nose, “fuuuuck, I wanna suck your dick. Can I? Please?”

Joseph hesitates; no one ever asks for that, and by the time his pants are off they’re too horny to complain at his dick and just go for whatever hole they were planning on fucking in the first place.

“I, um, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re picturing.” He sits up, heart pounding at his chest to tell him he’s blown it.

Barclay shakes his head, “I promise I know what I’m getting, been thinking about it all day, fuck, been driving me crazy.” His shorts hit his knees, Barclay thumbing the crease of his thighs with a moan, “yeah, fuck, c’mere.”

He makes a noise that would, in any other context, embarrass him as Barclay manhandles him far enough forward to sit on his face. But this is Barclay, sweet and gentle and so hot he’s amazed he’s not getting second degree burns. The burn he is getting just makes him laugh, Barclay’s short, auburn beard scratching the inside of his thighs.

“Shit, Barclay, shit, try, try a little lower? Ohhhhhfuck.” A crinkle of fabric as he grips the tent floor, Barclay is making sounds unlike any partner he’s ever had, grunting and moaning as forces more of him against his mouth. It’s all hot breath and grazing teeth and need, something Joseph is seldom the target of. He closes his eyes, let’s himself relax into a slow, steady roll of his hips against Barclay’s mouth.

There’s a rhythmic, frantic whss of fabric behind him, moaning from beneath. He flicks sweat from his eyes as he glances over his shoulder; Barclay isn’t even bothering to get his shorts off, is jerking his impressive cock as his lips close around Joseph’s own.

“Did, did you get that hard just from this?”

“Mmmhmm” Barclay looks up with wild, delighted eyes.

“Christ” he giggles, runs a hand through his hair as his orgasm circles closer, “didn’t think my dick being wet would be all it took.”

“Mmmph!” There’s a jolt of movement that signals Barclay cumming, a groaning growl buzzing up his dick just long enough to set his nerves dancing and draw his orgasm over the brink.

His words are gone, stay that way as Barclay eases him backwards and scoots so he can sit up. All he wants to do is hunker down in this tent and go at it until they pass out.

“Joseph? Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m incredible.”

“I’ll say” Barclay pulls him into his arms, “guess we oughta get clean and get a move on, huh.”

“As much as I hate to say it, yes. I really can’t waste this chance.”

Barclay pecks his lips, “Okay. Uh, can I borrow some shorts? I only brought one other pair.”

Twenty minutes later, Joseph is learning just how distracting another human being can be when your clothes are stretched around their thick thighs and they’ve taken their shirt off to combat the heat. Lord, if he were not on a mission he’d fuck Barclay’s imprint into the shore.

Speaking of his mission, while they don’t find bigfoot, Joseph does find some promising footprints and some fur he can’t identify. By the time they trek back to camp, their dinner is well-deserved and very appreciated. When Barclay asks if he wants dessert, Joseph simply grins.

“Not out here I don’t.”

They take only the needed time to get food out of bear range before clambering into the tent, Joseph opting to switch on the battery powered lantern as Barclay tosses his clothes away. He let’s the cook guide his shirt off, revels in the way his eyes roam over him like he’s seeing the Sistine Chapel. He lowers his head, zig-zagging kisses down his neck and chest.

“Should I avoid these?” Barclay’s mouth hovers over the scar on his left side. They’re only a year old, look newer, and something eager and hopeful peers out from Joseph’s heart at Barclay’s consideration of them.

“No, they don’t hurt. They don’t really feel like much.”

Barclay places a kiss on each, continues his descent until he’s at Joseph’s hips, nosing just above his pubic hair with happy sighs.

“I really, really wanna fuck you.”

“Condoms are in my bag, the side pouch.”

“Okay if it’s here?” He lightly teases a thumb below Joseph’s dick.

“Shit, yes” he bucks his hips, “I repeat: Condoms are in my bag and if you don’t get them now I’ll just fuck myself instead.”

“Heh, someone gets demanding when he’s raring to go.” He kisses his hip before rolling and crawling to grab the condom. When he rolls it down, Joseph sees his dick is an unremarkable length but thick enough that he spreads his legs a little wider as Barclay crawls between them.

“Fuck” Barclay groans as he pushes in, Joseph hooking his legs around him as he slowly thrusts, “fuck, baby, that good?”

“Better than, jesus Barclay you should sell rides on this thing, you’d make a million.”

“Don’t want a million, just want you.”

Joseph blushes, moans when he finds opening his legs doesn’t diminish how stuffed he feels.

“You like being full, blue eyes?”

“Yes, AHhhhn, that’s it big guy, show me how you like it.” He pulls Barclay down for a kiss as his hips speed up, arches his back as strong arms wrap around him. It’s bliss, heaven in the summer heat, and he closes his eyes to better enjoy it, smiling as Barclay comes in for another kiss, growling until Joseph parts his lips and let’s his tongue slip between them.

Something scratches his back, probably just an odd angle of the sleeping bag. Then whatever it is catches between him and the ground and his whole world changes. The cock inside him thickens and lengthens, the skin pressed to his sprouts fur, and teeth his tongue brushes against are sharp.

“Shit!” He yelps at the same time Barclay freezes with a quiet, “fuck.”

“Explain. Now” Joseph orders as Barclay sits up slightly.

“I’m, uh, I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, one of them. But, uh, maybe that was obvious?”

“Not until this moment, no.” He suspects the same surprise that keeps him from pulling back is keeping Barclay from pulling out, a fact that is rapidly becoming an issue thanks to his body's enjoyment of the thought of being a monster's plaything.

“I’m, I’m so sorry Joseph, I never wanted you to find out this way, fuck, I shoulda known that bracelet was wearing out. I, uh, I guess this trip is a success? Now if anyone asks you can say you found bigfoot? But, uh, please don’t tell anyone it was me?”

He whacks his hands onto his face, “Barclay, I can’t do that. I’m not just looking for you for fun. I’m an undercover agent.”

“A what?” Barclay’s voice climbs an octave.

“An FBI agent!” He whips his hands away, “I’m supposed to find out what happened in a string of disappearances that tack to recent bigfoot sightings, and now I have to go and, and-” he freezes as Barclay starts growling, looming back over him, “and I should have waited until I was safe to tell you thaAAAAAAtAH, fuck, shit, ohlord, ohmygod.” He tears at the tent as Barclay lifts his hips off the ground and hammers into him, “fuck, oh fuck, OhohOHchris!” His feet kick out uselessly as what he thought was the base of Barclay’s cock pushes into him. The stretch is tremendous, the pleasure more so, and the confusion dwarfs them both.

“There” Barclay grits his teeth, “now you can’t go anywhere.”

“What the hell did you do?!” Joseph tries to scramble back only to find he’s stuck.

“Knotted you. Not my best plan but you said you were gonna tell someone!”

“Not right this second!” Joseph notices the grimace on Barclay’s face deepen, “does it hurt you?”

“Negative, just, just trying not to cum because that seems inappropriate right now.”

“How long are we stuck like this?” His curiosity is getting the better of him, just like always.

“Until I...cum enough for it to go down. Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I panicked okay?”

Joseph crosses his arms, “well, since we’re stuck like this, I think you have time to answer some questions.”

Barclay sighs, defeated, “I can’t tell you everything, not tonight. But what I can tell you is that the reason for that pattern is, uh, if a sighting goes to public, or is too easily tracked to a human disguise, the cryptid who got spotted has to change their appearance. Which makes it look like someone disappeared.”

He meets the cooks eyes, studies his face; he doesn’t seem to be lying. In fact, he almost seems relieved.

“It’s so easy to explain in some ways and it opens up so, so many hard things at the same time.”

“Thank you for telling me. Even if it’s the worst possible time and place. I, well, I still have questions but” Joseph sets a hand on the back of Barclay’s neck, “I also want to finish being with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” It comes out as a yip.

“I’m not leaving Kepler any time soon. And I’m just crazy about you Barclay, bigfoot or no.”

Cautiously, Barclay leans down to kiss him. Joseph runs his fingers along his back, finds the hair softer than anticipated.

“Guess now I can say I smelled how turned on you were when we got here, and how turned on you’ve been all night. Blowing you earlier was fucking incredible because you were just flooding my brain with all these signs that you wanted me. That’s, uh, that’s why the knot happened at all. My body’s found someone it thinks wants me to stay.”

“I do.” Joseph kisses him again, gasps when the cock inside him thrusts gently, “shit, that feels so strange. So perfect.”

Barclay seems to blush under his fur, “Can I go faster? Promise I’ll stop if it hurts too much, just, just wanna make you feel good.”

Claws daintily pet his sides as he nods. Then there’s a deeper growl and he can’t help but scream, rough and sharp, as Barclay fucks into him with shallow jerks of his hips, the swell of the knot managing to press on his dick while the rest of his cock hits spots inside him no partner ever bothered to try and find.

“That’s it baby, lemme hear you, wanna know just how much you like it, fuck, oh fuck, you like being full, blue eyes, then, fuck, lemme fill you. Fuck, Joseph”

“Ohgod” cum pulses into him and he whimpers, desperate for release of his own. Barclay notices, rolls them so Joseph is on top, all his FBI physical training going into maintaining the half-splits needed to straddle him.

“Got at least one more before I can pull out, and I wanna feel you cum.” The pad on one finger finds Joseph’s dick and rubs, “fuuuuuck, fucking-A I almost came again just from you tightening.”

“Barclay, please” he tangles his fingers into the fur of his chest, “please I’m so close.”

“Here, I’ve got an idea” He pulls Joseph so he’s hunched forward, kissing him messily as his claws dig into his hips to bounce him on his cock. Joseph moans, gives up on supporting himself and smiles when Barclay takes his weight without hesitation. He nestles his head under the cryptids chin, burying pleas in his fur as he speeds up. The angle and the force of Barclays movements mean his dick catches on thick fur and the warm belly beneath it, and as his grinds desperately he realizes he’s cumming. Then his cry of pleasure is drowned out by a howlgrowlpurr as Barclay empties into him, the pressure so intense he whimpers, unsure how much more his body will hold. Then the cock inside him slips free, cum spilling down his legs in it’s wake.

“Hrmph” Barclay rumbles, holding him close, “shoulda brought something to keep it in; make you spend all night with my cum in you so no one else gets any ideas.”

Joseph, sleep clinging to most of his brain, looks up, “wait, does that mean there are other bigfoots in the area who might?”

“Uhhhhhhhhh”

Joseph laughs to himself, shaking his head; tonight raises so many questions, dozens of things to investigate, and yet only one query matters to him right now.

“You really want to be my guy?”

A furry hand pets his face and Barclay murmurs, with a sweetness Joseph’s never before heard, “of course, baby.”

[jpegjade]

Hang 10! - Spencer

we’ve got a fic ladies and gents! it’s not the most interesting one but it’s a fic in the middle of my crazy life. hopefully i’ll be able to more along the way. i’ve got the next one planned out and i’m gonna start writing it soon.

wheelchair reader x crutches spencer

warnings: idk none really. not much happens. v v v domestic  

________________

It was a normal Saturday for Spencer. Sitting with ice on his leg, the leg where he took a bullet only a few weeks before. He wasn’t allowed to put weight on it just yet and doctor’s orders were to keep it elevated as much as possible.

Spencer was making notes in a book he’s read a thousand times before. He liked to use his free time to read and even make notes on what the obscure quotes could mean, in and out of context. 

Out of nowhere, his phone rang. Causing him to lean over to the coffee table to grab it, he saw it was just Morgan. According to the team group chat, everyone was supposed to be at Rossi’s house, christening Rossi’s recently completed pool with burgers and drinks.

“Are you getting ready, pretty boy?” He usually didn’t call Spencer unless it was important. Spencer wondered whether this was actually important. 

“For the pool party I didn’t want to go to?” Spencer asked, putting his book on the coffee table. 

“Exactly.” Morgan exclaimed. Spencer wondered what he was up to. 

“I didn’t want to go for a specific reason. I’m supposed to be resting my leg.” Spencer sighed, looking down at the ice pack resting on his leg. 

“Your bae will be there.” Derek said, nonchalantly. 

Spencer understood what the endgame was now. It had been everyone’s endgame since the beginning. 

“I hate that word. If you want to acknowledge that it’s a word, which I do not. I much prefer another moniker to talk about y/n. I’d love something classic and timeless but fun, like they are.” Spencer blushed, realizing he said more than he should have to Morgan. 

“Ah, so pretty boy does have a huge crush on our new teammate. We suspected it but you just admitted it. Emily owes me money.” Derek chuckled. 

Grabbing the ice bag off of his leg, Spencer grabbed his crutches and put the ice bag into a bowl he laid out for himself to hold the ice when he was done. He always thought ahead because he hates cleaning up messes. 

“What do you want me to do about it? I’d like to maintain a professional relationship with them for as long as possible, thank you. Work relationships with co-workers when you’re working in such close proximity is very difficult to navigate, not to mention the statistics of getting married after meeting and working together is only as high as 31%. 69% of work relationships are more than likely to fail. Who knows what…” Spencer was anxiously moving around his apartment, going off on a tangent. 

“Reid. Hey.” Derek cut off Spencer’s train of thought. “Come downstairs. Let’s go.” 

Spencer grabbed his cardigan, slipping it on, before he and his crutches made their way to the building elevator. 

In the car, Derek was humming along to the radio while Spencer looked out the window. He was glad Derek wasn’t trying to talk to him the whole drive because he needed time to plan what he was going to say to y/n.

To everyone else, this was a simple pool party that was meant to welcome y/n onto the team while simultaneously christening Rossi’s new pool. It wasn’t a big deal because for the past few weeks, y/n had been instrumental in the cases they covered. Everyone was so excited about the new addition to the team, especially Spencer. 

To Spencer, this was a nerve racking opportunity to fail in front of y/n. Ever since their first interaction, when y/n corrected Spencer on a statistic about serial killers, Spencer was intrigued. He knew you didn’t have to have a 187 IQ or an eidetic memory to be smart but you were consistently going toe-to-toe with him on every fact, sometimes beating him to the punch. You had yet to interrupt him or even act like his tangents bothered you. In fact, a couple times, you pulled Spencer over to hear the rest of his tangent after everyone left the room. 

“Hey kid. You okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Derek pulled into Rossi’s driveway with a concerned look on his face. 

Spencer’s sickness wasn’t Derek’s concern. His concern was getting the smell out of his carpet once Spencer let out his stomach contents inside the car. 

Derek leaned over Spencer, putting his arm towards the door but Spencer thought he was trying to hug him in an attempt to comfort him. This was not the case. So when Spencer wrapped his arm around Derek’s torso while Derek pushed open the door, Spencer was met with a very confused look from Derek. 

“I read that wrong.” Spencer said. 

“Let’s go, kid.” Derek and Spencer climbed out of the car and walked to the door. There was no need to knock so the boys just let themselves in.

Spencer was immediately drawn to your laughter as he and Derek entered the house. Without realizing it, he started walking with his crutches to the backyard, where he saw you sitting in your wheelchair, talking to Garcia. He paused as he looked at you, taking in how nice you looked in the setting sunlight. You weren’t guarded like you were at work but you weren’t relaxed either. It looked like you were on edge but there was something so calming about you that his nerves seemed to disappear almost completely. 

“Boy wonder is on his feet!” Garcia said, noticing Spencer standing in the backyard doorway. 

Spencer watched as your smile shrunk before you looked in his direction. He wanted to look away but when he saw your smile grow as you waved at him, his hand waved just slightly. So many thoughts ran through his head about you at once that he couldn’t decipher which thought he wanted to focus on. 

Garcia waved him over to you before winking and leaving. Spencer looked at you as you squinted daggers into the back of Garcia’s head. 

“I like the embellishments.” Spencer said, looking at your wheelchair. 

You tilted your head as you looked at Spencer in confusion before you remembered: Penelope bought you some badass clips for your wheels. They were incredibly small but they were just noticeable. They looked like the clips you would put on your bike in the 70’s. They were neon colored and even though you didn’t normally like that kind of stuff, something about the thought Garcia put into it made it special. You hadn’t had anyone do that for you before. 

“Oh, thank you. They weren’t my idea so I can’t take credit but without the wheelchair, there would be no clips so...” You grinned, too shy to look at Spencer. 

Everyone had gone inside to get drinks while you and Spencer were silently hanging around each other. Both of you were too afraid to really start a conversation of some sort because neither of you knew where to start. 

“Why aren’t you inside with the team?” Spencer asked, sitting in the patio chair next to you. 

Propping his crutches against the wall, you took notice of his hands fiddling in his lap. It was like he needed to keep moving when he couldn’t go anywhere. You hadn’t noticed that about him before. 

“I’m still getting used to them…” You said, looking at your hands in your own lap. 

“Oh… You seem pretty comfortable with the team when we’re on a case.” Spencer said, looking at your hands. His thoughts wandered to how nice they would feel laced in his hands. He would love to hold your hand right about now. 

“That’s different. I know how to do that. I know how to interact when I’m forced to in order to save someone’s life.” You grinned, thinking about the last case, when you were able to save a little girl from yet another monster of a person. 

“It’s different to find common ground when you’re alone with somebody you don’t know.” Spencer said slowly. 

The muffled laughter of the party inside through the back door made you smile. They were having such a good time while you were… Doing nothing next to Spencer? Not that you minded. It was easier to be around one person than it was to be around a group of people all looking at you for your next answer. 

“I think I might like it here. It’s better than my old job.” You said, gazing off into the distance. 

Spencer noticed that you slouched a little bit after saying that. 

“What do you like about it?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious. 

It had been a long time since you liked your job. In the beginning, you liked your old job but your boss turned mean, vindictive even, when you started to receive praise from higher ups. In fact, your skills at your old job got you here. 

“It’s more than just working with a group of people. I’ve been close to some of the most brilliant minds in the world but none of them have ever felt like this. Nowhere before have I ever felt like I’m in a group of people that like each other enough to hang out when they’re not working. It’s like…” You stopped, trying to find the word. 

“A family?” Spencer said, finishing your sentence. 

“Yeah… And right now, I feel like the cousin twice removed that doesn’t really know anyone at the family reunion, even if everyone knows me.” 

There was another pause as Spencer thought about that connection. He tried to think of something smart to say that would be interesting when his brain acted faster than he could sort out. 

“In almost every state, it’s legal to date your second cousin once removed. On estimation, 0.2% of Americans alone are married to their second cousin. For clarification, a second cousin is someone you share a great grandparent with. It’s less about who married who but your relation to them. The current number is unknown as the last time the 0.2% was calculated was between…” Spencer stopped once he saw your face change. 

“What?” You asked him. 

“You’re smiling. And you haven’t stopped me.” Spencer said, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I like listening to you talk about the probability that I’m going to marry my second cousin from this unrelated, metaphorical family.” You smiled wider as his mind started working again. 

“Am I the second cousin in this scenario?” Spencer asked, blushing at the thought. He wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t caught feelings for you when he started to find out more about how your mind worked. 

“Maybe. Only if the plan is to get married.” You said. “But you have to take me on a date first.” 

“Okay.” Spencer said, grabbing his crutches. 

“Okay, what?” You asked. You were so confused. 

“You said I have to take you on a date.” Spencer repositioned himself to stand up with the help of the crutches. 

“Are you serious?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Do you want to go on a date?” Spencer asked in a matter-of-fact way. 

“Well only if you want to.” You said, sheepishly. 

“We should pick a date...Saturday?” Spencer asked. 

“Saturday.” You confirmed with a smile. Spencer began crutching inside before turning and looking at you. 

“Are you coming, y/n? The family is calling.”

[husbandograveyard]

Hello!! Congratulations on 300!! Love your writing could I request Ace and #47? Hope you a nice day!!

Hiya! Thank you!!! Some freckly boi goodness for the final scenario of this event! Thank you for participating (and please check your PM for your giveaway prize) I hope you like this scenario!! Enjoy! 

4th time is the charm - Ace x Reader 

Cliche with bae prompt #47: “I have loved you for years” Character: Ace - Word count: 2k 

The first time you were children. A marine ship had come into town, and curiosity had taken over: the vice-admiral leading the ship had brought with him two young boys, his grandsons, who seemed less than impressed with the trip their grandfather took them on. You loudly heard them declare something about pirates and trying to sneak away from their grandpa. And you, a child on the island often running away and hiding, knew just the places to get the boys to! Only the eldest saw your motions and ditched his younger brother without a trace of doubt. 

You learned his name was Ace, the younger brother’s name was Luffy. Ace cared about Luffy, but like many brothers, he didn’t always show. “Besides, he’s got grandpa looking after him.” The two of you (and sometimes the three of you) always ended up playing together on the island for hours on end, oftentimes either their grandpa or your parents looking for you around dinnertime. When they eventually left the island, you hugged him tightly, telling him to visit again if his grandpa would come to the island again. You even cried a little after the ship disappeared from the horizon. 

The second time was when Ace had just become a pirate. You were both just teenagers, just starting to figure out what you wanted in life, but he was already so strong, so determined. He was traveling island to island, trying to recruit people for his crew. When you recognized him, you spent multiple days catching up. But at the end of his visit, he wouldn’t take you along on his travels. “You’re too weak y/n, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt because of the pirate life”. 

You were incredibly hurt, more than you thought you’d be. You asked him if he’d by come again if he would take you along when you were stronger. “You’ll have to prove your strength y/n”, he said, “but if you are strong enough, I’ll take you along.” That was enough to set your heart ablaze, and you wished that the hug goodbye would never end. It did, unfortunately, but you did not cry as he left the island this time. You were determined to get stronger.

And thus you trained every single day, no matter how sore you were from the day before. And you did get stronger. Became skilled with many weapons, started learning Haki. You were contemplating leaving the island to go look for a devil fruit. But you couldn’t really leave now, not when Ace might come by again and take you along on his travels.

Years went by and you kept an eye on the newspapers and saw how he became more and more notorious. He and his Spade pirates were making a name for themselves. He’d eaten a devil fruit and had even refused a position as a shichibukai, and even though it made your heart swell with pride and even maybe even a little love, it also made you worried. You were strong, but not that strong, and it had been years now. Maybe he’d never return at all. 

The third time you met was after he’d already joined the Whitebeard pirates and you had started traveling on your own. Tired of waiting for him, and half-convinced he was not going to show up anymore, you were now going from island to island, combining low-level bounty hunting with each and every little job you could find in order to keep in shape and earn money to support your travels and upgrade your weapons. You were not sure what your long-term goals were exactly, maybe you wanted to join a pirate crew eventually, but for now, you settled for exploring the world. You had seen amazing things already and you were sure there were plenty of adventures still to come.

When you heard a ruckus outside, you were pretty sure another pirate crew was on its way to the bar where you were working at the moment. It was one of the biggest in town, and you had seen your fair share of pirates. You just hoped they weren’t the angry types of drunks. Not that you couldn’t handle them, they were just a way bigger pain to deal with. 

When the door opened, you looked up smiling, ready to greet the new guests, but fell immediately speechless when the first thing you saw was the freckled face of the man you had been waiting for at home. He was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, and long, firm hugs were exchanged, with plenty of unnecessary comments from his crew. You provided him and his friends with drinks and spent the entire night almost neglecting other customers in order to catch up with Ace. 

He apologized for not coming to get you and explained how he had found this crew, or family, as he’d like to call them. He told you of his adventures so far, and you told him about yours. Yours weren’t nearly as impressive as his were, but he still listened to you intently, asking questions and praising your strength and skilled that you had honed over the years. You didn’t dare tell him it was all for him, in hopes he’d take you along after that. You didn’t get to explain too much, somewhere halfway through one of your stories his head suddenly drooped and he fell asleep right then and there. The crew laughed and explained to you that it was quite a common occurrence and to just wait it out. 

By the time he woke up, it was nearing the morning, everyone leaving so you could close the bar for the night. Ace apologized profusely, and you told him he could make it up to you by meeting you again the next day. His ears were turning red and he looked positively embarrassed, but he did say yes, avoiding any and all eye contact before he waved you goodbye and followed the rest of the crew back to the ship. 

The next day he met you at the back of the bar, and you took him to one of the more quiet places on the island, enjoying the view together. There were no awkward silences, conversation flowed so easily and it had been as if you were talking for years on end, not these random faithful encounters that made your heart flutter every single time. You were wondering if you should tell him how you feel, but now that you were on your own adventure, it would not be as easy to keep up a relationship as it would have been all those years ago. Besides, he had his own family now, no use in trying to work your way into his world, which was always so different from yours.

You were sitting together for a while when he suddenly stopped talking, his head falling onto your shoulder, and because you weren’t prepared and flinched when it happened, slipped onto your lap. He was fast asleep again, in a position that didn't really seem comfortable. You tried to gently shake him awake but to no avail. You tried to move his body as much as you could to make him at least a little bit more comfortable and made sure his neck wasn’t bent in a funny way that could potentially hurt him when he woke up. Not wanting to move now that he seemed relaxed, and softly snoring, you settled for raking your hands through his hair. Although he was sleeping soundly, Ace seemed to lean into your touch a little. 

When you grew tired of curling his locks around your fingers -you didn’t want to mess his hair up too badly-, you settled for counting his freckles, softly tracing those on his shoulders. You felt him shift a little and pulled your hand back when you looked down and saw his eyes were open, something in between a gentle smile and a full-on grin on his face, mixed in with some embarrassment, out of all times to fall asleep, this wasn’t the best possible moment.  

A few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence and some insanely intense eye contact later, Ace sat up straight again and was on his feet. You followed suit, walking back, it had become quite late and he didn’t want to worry his crewmates. You understood but felt the pang in your heart as he said goodbye. You pulled him in for a hug, which he returned. When you let go, he still held onto your arms, as if he wanted to say something more, the words ready to roll off his tongue. And yet he seemed to swallow them. You couldn’t get yourself to spill your feelings either, so heartfelt goodbyes were all that was exchanged that night. 

You regretted not saying or doing anything from that moment on. The next morning the big ship was nowhere to be seen, and you had no idea when you’d ever see him again. With both of you actively traveling, the possibility of you running into each other again was insanely small. But you moved on nonetheless. 

The fourth and final time was when Ace was solo traveling as well, and you did not recognize him as you were sprinting to get the final spot in an overcrowded bar. You jumped onto the barstool only to bump right into a muscular chest who’d been just a little faster to claim that final spot for some drinks and dinner. You cursed loudly and were surprised when you heard someone call out your name. Ace. 

He quickly offered you the spot, and another evening of catching up ensued, and he told you all about how he was going after someone from his division that had killed another of his family. You listened intently as you saw the pain and guilt on his face when he blamed himself for not being able to catch this man. Your heart made all sorts of jumps when he placed his hand on yours and told you not to worry. You made up your mind right then and there. 

“I want to come along with you” “y/n… I don’t think..” “I won’t get in your way, I won’t fight if you tell me not to, and even if you say no, I’ll just be happening to travel in the same direction as you are.” You shrugged and he couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “Don’t you have your own adventures to live?” “Oh Ace, I initially traveled to seek you out.” His smile faded as he looked at you confused. “I have been in love with you for years now. Please take me along, I cannot take another goodbye.” His mouth opened and closed a few times to say something, his brain obviously not catching up with what you had just said, and you made the bold move of leaning forward and softly pressing your lips to his in order to put some action behind your words. You were careful though, so he could still reject them in case you had completely misread the situation. 

You had not: once he got over the initial shock of the situation, he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other sneaking to the back of your head so he could deepen the kiss. You only pulled back when the bartender made a clicking noise, not the best place to share an intense kiss while other people were just trying to enjoy their meal. You both were blushing as you looked in each other’s eyes. 

“I thought I’d never get you to travel along with me. I love you y/n. Always have, for all these y-” His head slumped forward and you managed to catch it right in time before it landed in his plate. You giggled. Maybe it would be a good idea that someone came along on his travels.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Rhythm Section {Poly BakuJiro}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Again, something different that I tried but still the self-indulgent train keeps a-rollin’ choo choo ya’ll

Class A’s contribution to the culture festival in their first year had become the stuff of legend at UA. By the time the next culture festival was approaching, they were all but told that they would be putting on another concert for their second-year program. Another hit song by Jiro and great routine by Mina might’ve been even more successful than the first depending on who was asked.

Third year was the same but not as much of a surprise—A Band would be taking the stage for the final time as UA students. As expected it was spectacular, cheers and compliments raising up from the audience before them while they stood in awe at the reaction.

Well, she stood in awe at something different. She was in awe at the sight of Bakugo and Jiro, both sweaty but energized from the performance and looking amazing. Handsome, pretty, beautiful, attractive… all of the above on both accounts really. That night had been the one that made her realize that she had two crushes.

She was okay with crushing on both a guy and a girl—she’d known about that aspect of herself for a while but hadn’t shared it with anyone quite yet—but did it have to be on the two people in the class who were effortlessly cool in everything they did? It was like they were both trying to kill her at every turn.

Studying with Jiro? She’s twirling one earphone jack around her finger mindlessly and biting her lower lip as she concentrates on the material in front of her. The wide neck of her ripped tshirt slips down her shoulder slightly to reveal smooth skin that she just knows is as soft as it looks.

Training with Bakugo? The muscles in his arms are flexing as they practice traditional hand to hand and the smirk on his face is wild. When they finish and he lifts his tank top to wipe sweat from his face she can see every ridge of abs and has to move away before he lifts it higher and makes her stop breathing.

It was difficult having crushes on the two hottest people in the class and having zero chance with either. No one knew she liked girls (did Jiro even like girls?) and stepping in the way of becoming Number One seemed like a death sentence.

“This is hard,” she groaned, dropping her face into her arms at one of the common room tables.

Jiro laughed. “Music theory can be, even if you’re a musician. I only know it because of my parents.”

“Do you think the greats struggled with it too?” she asked as she raised her head to look at her. “Like was Jimmy Page as done with this as I am right now?”

“Ohh someone knows her classic rock icons,” she teased.

“He was just the first name that came to mind! I should’ve said Bonham instead.”

“What, you’re not into guitarists?”

“I mean I don’t think I’m not into them?” she replied. “I just prefer the rhythm section, that’s all.”

Jiro raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Well yeah, they’re generally hotter. Bonham is case in point.”

“Any other data points to back that up?” she asked curiously.

“There’s a lot but think Fall Out Boy, All Time Low, Zeppelin like I mentioned…” she trailed off as she locked eyes with the girl across from her.

Was this—was this an opening? Could she even…?

“And, you know,” she finally continued, “A Band.”

A smirk took over her lips and she tapped her pen against her notebook as she looked over her, the smirk growing every passing second.

“I think Kaminari would be a little sad to hear that,” she mused.

She shrugged. “Kaminari’s not exactly who I’m trying to impress.”

Jiro dropped her pen and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward with interest sparkling in her eyes. She was grinning and looked like someone who couldn’t believe the luck they’d had. And the fact that she’d done that to her? Incredible.

A hand landed on Jiro’s shoulder making her jump, and when she whirled around in her chair she saw an annoyed Bakugo. His scowl deepened when Jiro tried to smile at him and from across the table she could see the muscle in his jaw jump.

“We need to talk,” he ground out through clenched teeth, squeezing her shoulder in warning. Then he let go and stomped towards the hallway to the elevators.

“Uh, sorry,” Jiro said with a blush as she began gathering her things. “I shouldn’t keep him waiting and knowing him it’s gonna be awhile. Sorry to cut this short, but can I text you later?”

“Oh, yeah, totally! I hope everything goes okay with Bakugo.”

She gave a weak smile as she stood, lifting two fingers in a wave before she went towards the elevators.

Watching her go made her frown as she too began grabbing her materials to head to her room. That was quite possibly the bravest she had ever been when talking to a crush and of course it had to be interrupted. It was likely for a good reason if it was Bakugo doing the interrupting but still.

‘At least she’ll text me later,’ she thought.

With a sigh she clutched her textbook and notes to her chest and started toward the elevators. But as she neared the corner she could make out a conversation that made her pause.

“…said I was sorry!” Jiro whispered. “She’s the one who—”

“Oh sure, blame her!” Bakugo snapped in a low voice.

Were they talking about her? Were they—was this a couple’s argument? Was she getting between them by essentially telling Jiro she was trying to impress her?

Her two crushes getting together and her inadvertently driving a wedge between them was the absolute worst-case scenario she could imagine. She was ready to faint.

“She brought it up, okay? I didn’t say ‘hey, who do you think are the hottest members of our class band? It’s totally me and Bakugo, right?’, she just said it and then it got flirty! Doesn’t it at least help to know she thinks we’re attractive?”

"That’s not—I thought we agreed that we would both be cool and not lay it on so damn thick? What happened to seeing who she likes more? You just took a fifty-meter head start and now I don't even know if she likes guys!" Bakugo hissed.

“I like both.”

They had both turned to look at her, surprised at her sudden appearance and declaration. Beneath that there was something else that she couldn’t quite place—hope?

“I… I like guys and girls. I’m bi,” she said for the first time out loud. Then, with a bite to her lip, she added, “And more specifically, I like the both of you.”

“Damn,” Jiro mumbled as Bakugo looked off to the side.

She had no idea what she was doing and was internally panicking. What was she supposed to say now? Should she say anything? Yeah, yeah she should. She had to.

“I do like you both,” she repeated softly, “but I also know you two are close. Don’t… don’t make it a competition. I don’t want to choose because you’re both amazing.”

Bakugo looked up at her, his eyes calculating. “Then don’t.”

Jiro went wide-eyed but covered it as she turned to her. “Maybe we should all talk privately. This isn’t something the class needs to hear.”

She nodded, following behind them as they made their way into the elevator.

As they stepped out on the third floor she could feel something shift between the three of them. With each step down the hall it got warmer, and she wondered if she was the only one who felt it. Bakugo’s clenched jaw and Jiro’s constant glances between them both made her think that no, it wasn’t.

It was only after they were all standing in Jiro’s room that Bakugo began to speak, his voice not as harsh as it usually was.

“You don’t need to choose,” he said again. “I like you and so does she. You like me and you like her. She and I get along just fine.”

“So by not choosing you mean…?

“I mean you can have both of us. Or neither of us. If you don’t want competition it’s an all or nothing type deal.”

She looked between him and Jiro. “You two have talked about this? And you’re both okay with it being all or nothing?”

“Yeah we uh, we’re good. Not like he and I haven’t done everything already, you know?” Jiro chuckled nervously, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

“Okay,” she replied. “Then I’m all in.”

“Oh thank fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad,” Jiro sighed, starting towards her.

Bakugo grabbed the back of her cardigan and yanked her back to his side, glaring at her when she squirmed to try and make him let go.

“Keep your fuckin’ legs closed for five minutes,” he snapped, dropping his hand from the fabric.

She bit her lip, not sure what was going to happen now that the decision had been made. Plus she was a little disappointed; she wanted to kiss Jiro too.

“Listen, we gotta get some shit straight first alright?” Bakugo said. “This ain’t exactly the norm, so if we gotta start small, we do. First thing’s first, do you want us both at the same time or are we workin’ up to that?”

That had been the shift: sexual tension. And yeah, she definitely wasn’t the only one who felt it judging by the subtle tensing of Jiro’s thighs and the not at all subtle outline in Bakugo’s pants.

“Same time is what I want. I’ve… never done it with two people before and I’ve never been with another girl but I want you. Both of you.”

He nodded. “You been tested? You on anything?”

“Work study tests us all for literally everything imaginable each month so yeah, three weeks ago and I’m good,” she said, her skin hot. “I’m on the pill but I would really prefer you use a condom too.”

“Same,” Jiro offered with a smile. “On both accounts.”

“Tested last week and I’m good too,” Bakugo said. “Hard no’s for this first time?”

“Grabbing is the only thing that happens to my ass and if anyone hits me they’re losing whatever limb made contact.”

“No problem,” he shrugged.

Jiro laughed. “I think that tonight we keep it tame, yeah?”

With a smirk on his face Bakugo stepped out of his slippers and came towards her, laying a hand on her waist before stepping around her and pressing himself against her back. “Tame as a threesome can be.”

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and she shivered, closing her eyes for just a moment. When she opened them, Jiro was in front of her.

Smiling, she brought her hands up to cup her face and kissed her. Lips pressed against the side of her neck too and she realized that stepping around that corner on the first floor was the best decision she could’ve made. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t be enjoying the two sets of hands slowly roaming her body or the two tongues that were sliding past her lips and tracing a reddening mark on her jaw.

Her shirt was gently pushed up and bunched around her stomach as large, warm palms slid across her skin and tried pulling her slightly away from Jiro, but her grip on her hips held her steady enough to not break the kiss. The hands dragged up to cup her ribs just below her bra and Bakugo rolled his hips into her from behind, making her gasp into her kiss with Jiro.

She smiled, eyes half lidded as her fingertips brushed against her cheek. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

“Wanna make you two feel good too,” she murmured, feeling the bites to her neck pause.

“Y’already are, just let us have our fun,” he mumbled before pushing her top up over her head and dropping it to the side. He pulled his own shirt off quickly and let his hands roam the newly bared skin of her back.

Shakily, she reached forward to tug at the hem of Jiro’s cardigan, receiving a smile and an easy shrug to remove it. A moment later the undershirt followed and she pulled her into a kiss again as the hands at her back lightly snapped the band of her bra.

She jumped, breaking the kiss. “Bakugo!”

“Tch, pretty sure we can go for given names now, right Kyoka?”

“Katsuki’s right,” she giggled, kissing her once more.

She felt overwhelmed in the best way. She was on a first name basis with both of her crushes and was between the two of them, holding Kyoka close and kissing her with everything she had while Katsuki ground himself against her and unclipped her bra.

With more gentleness than she expected, he guided the straps down her arms and lightly tugged her arms from around Kyoka so the loosened fabric could fall to the side. Kyoka took that time to step back to undo and shed her own which allowed Katsuki to spin her around to face him for the first time. He smirked, fingers gliding up her sides until he was able to cup her chest in large palms.

She cradled his jaw and brought him forward to press her lips against his, surprised at the lack of roughness she’d expected when he kissed back. Was it testing the waters or savoring the first taste? She was willing to bet both.

Cool hands smoothed over her back and slow, careful kisses trailed down her spine. The drag of lips against the curve of her lower back made her shiver and the nudge of fingertips just below her waistband made her heart race even more. Fabric slid down her legs to leave her completely bare and she felt her face heat up, self-conscious of being the only one, until a moment later she heard the soft sound of clothing hitting the floor behind her and felt bare skin against her back.

Breaking apart from Katsuki to breathe she leaned forward to press open mouthed kisses to his collarbone, the definition like he had been chiseled from stone. Her hands fell to his hips and hooked her fingers into his sweats and underwear, tugging them down to pool at his feet. She traced over the ridges of muscle across his stomach as she continued kissing up his neck, careful not to leave marks where his costume couldn’t cover.

She felt Kyoka rest her chin on her shoulder, then a brush against her arm and a twist of muscle beneath her lips. When she glanced up she saw her kissing Katsuki, one hand on his cheek to keep him turned towards her. One hand dropped from her chest and moved behind her, knuckles at her back and a soft gasp coming from Kyoka making it obvious where it had gone.

Then the hand still on her chest slowly slid down her body before settling between her legs and the hand at her back returned to her hip. Cooler hands would around her to cup her chest, a shudder running through her at the temperature but her fingers traced down the sculped stomach in front of her.

Two fingers pressed into her as she wrapped her hand around Katsuki, a soft gasp escaping her and a low groan coming from him. Kyoka’s light laughter followed and she began pressing kisses across her shoulders, mouth free from Katsuki’s head tipping back as more groans were drawn out from the slow stokes.

She bit her lip as the fingers between her legs curled perfectly and his thumb drew firm circles on her clit.

“Good with his fingers, right?” Kyoka whispered.

She could only nod with a whimper as she felt her thighs tense. Her strokes grew faster and she rocked her hips forward slightly to chase the feeling, her back arching at the two pairs of hands treating her so well.

She whined loudly as the fingers between her legs withdrew and the solid warmth disappeared from in front of her, but she couldn’t dwell on it as she was turned around once again and pressed against Kyoka. Their lips found one another’s easily and she felt those cool hands on her cheeks, her own fingertips tracing the soft skin of the curves of her chest and stomach. Even with inexperienced nerves tingling in the back of her mind she ventured lower to the apex of pale of thighs and reveled in the pleased hum into her mouth. Knowing what she liked for herself she rubbed familiar patterns and curled her fingers just so to keep the noises flowing, swallowing them proudly as they grew louder.

“I like how you sound,” she murmured breathily as they broke apart and dark hair tickled her chest as Kyoka rested her forehead against her shoulder with a gasp.

“And I like the view,” Katsuki chuckled from behind her, the crinkling of foil lost to the low timbre.

Hands came around to cup her chest from behind once again and those lips were back on her neck, the rhythm of her fingers stuttering slightly at the sensations.

“Let… let me show you what I’m good at,” Kyoka panted, kissing her cheek before pulling back. Their eyes stayed locked as she kneeled down, her palms gently widening her stance to make room between her thighs, and it was only at the first brush of her tongue on her clit did she close her eyes.

Her fingers dropped to thread through the dark hair that was just as silky as she’d always imagined, tightening slightly as fingertips trailed closer to where her lips and tongue were working her closer to cumming faster than she could comprehend. The teeth scraping against her neck and jaw gave just the right amount of pain to combine with that pleasure and her legs started to shake from the effort of standing.

Katsuki noticed immediately, the mark he’d been working on abandoned as he ordered, “Bed, Kyoka.”

The hum of agreement between her thighs nearly sent her over the edge right then, but the promise of experiencing even more was too alluring to succumb to it so soon and she let herself be guided to the bed on weak legs by her two partners. It was a bit difficult for the three of them to lie together in the small dorm bed but they managed to arrange themselves well enough to be comfortable and continue.

She was one more kissing Kyoka as they laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki’s chest was pressed against her back, smooth latex brushing against the back of her thigh. Familiar rough hands parted her thighs, lifting one leg slightly, and she felt him move against her to position himself before rolling his hips forward.

A soft moan escaped her as her hand trailed down the soft skin in front of her, the fullness she felt something she wanted to share at least somewhat with Kyoka. She traced her tongue along her bottom lip as she pressed two fingers into her and began to draw firm circles on her clit, her pattern hesitant and uneven as Katsuki started to move. It took a few moments for them to sink into a rhythm that suited all of them but once they did it felt like everything had fallen into place.

Deep groans vibrated against her shoulders as he mouthed more bites along her back, the sting of his teeth and the soft pinches to her nipples from Kyoka giving her more sensations than she could comprehend. She had to break the kiss to rest her head against her collarbone, panting breaths making her chest heave and muscles clench as their newfound rhythm amongst the three of them sped up.

“That’s it,” Katsuki mumbled, his fingers ghosting over her hip to find a place on her clit.

One hand left her chest and a whisper of, “Katsuki,” over her shoulder let her know exactly what happened next when he shifted higher and so did Kyoka, her chest now directly in front of her. She took advantage, curling her fingers just so and laving her tongue over her left nipple; her free hand came up to knead and pinch her right.

Katsuki dutifully swallowed her moans but the trio each silently hoped that the rest of the class were still in the common room because there was no possible way for them to hold back the gratified sounds. As their rhythm grew steadily faster and the muscles coiled even tighter the louder they were surely becoming.

It was Kyoka who came first, tossing her head back and cupping the back of her neck to keep her to her chest, her hips rocking into her hand as she rode out the pleasure with breathy moans.

“Fuck!” Katsuki grunted, his fingers adding more pressure to her clit to bring her over the edge just before he himself toppled over, the tightness around him almost unbearable with how amazing it felt as he ground his hips into hers as they came.

The three of them collapsed into one another breathing heavily and weakly clinging to each other, willing their heartbeats to slow and their pleasure to linger. Easy kisses were shared between them and fingertips traced sweat-damp skin as they laid together for a few peaceful moments.

Kyoka nudged both her and Katsuki. “We gotta clean up.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, getting to his feet and helping them both up and into Kyoka’s bathroom.

Within ten minutes they were semi-dressed and piled back in the bed with Kyoka spooning her and her head on Katsuki’s chest. Fingers tangled in hair and lips pressed to exposed skin let that bliss continue in a sweet way as they laid with one another.

She giggled, thinking back to hours before in the common room when she wasn’t sure what was going to happen in regard to her crushes yet here she was cuddled between them after what was most definitely the most pleasurable night of her life.

“Oi, the hell you laughin’ at?”

“Yeah, no secrets between boyfriends and girlfriends,” Kyoka teased.

She smiled. “Just thinking about how this morning I had crushes on the two hottest people in the class and now I’m dating them.”

“Weird how that shit works out sometimes but I can’t complain when I got the two hottest girls in the class,” Katsuki smirked.

“I’m with you, babe,” Kyoka said with a kiss to her cheek. “I’m just excited I got the drummer and the groupie.”

Damn, she was lucky.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! So yeah I love rhythm section members irl and no I’ve never written a threesome before, why do you ask?

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.26)

Chapter Twenty-six: Dabi (HawksxGN!Reader)

From Cindy: My intention was to never have Dabi in this story, but now he’s here. lol He wanted to add a bit of spice.

Plot summary: As a quirk geneticist, you never really imagined yourself getting involved in hero work. Of course, you never imagined catching the eye of a pro hero either. What starts as a great career opportunity turns into a relationship built upon mutual secrets and trust.

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

Returning to work and getting back into a routine after having a vacation was always a little difficult. That was especially true when you worked for a mad doctor who created super villains in the basement of an otherwise mediocre municipal hospital. But after reconnecting with friends from your hometown and having some much needed quality time with your boyfriend, you were feeling refreshed and ready to face the last stretch of your dangerous journey. The spark of cautious optimism was stomped out almost immediately when you stepped into the hospital lobby and saw the expression on Dr. Garaki’s face as he greeted you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask before any pleasantries can be exchanged. A list of worst case scenarios begins to compile in your brain as the doctor tries to force the smile on his face to appear more genuine. If something urgent had popped up, you knew he would have gotten in touch with you, so it was hard to predict the situation you were coming back to. You couldn’t discuss anything about Shigaraki in the main hospital though, so you’d have to endure the suspense until both of you were safely out of sight in the underground lab.

“You look well rested,” Garaki comments as you make your way to the secret elevator. Your nervous jitters made the walk seem much longer than usual. “I guess taking a few days off was a good idea.”

“I appreciate you giving me the time,” you tell him since it remained to be seen whether taking a break from your duties had been a good idea or not.

“We’ll be having a guest in the lab today,” the doctor finally reveals a sliver of information after all your personal belongings had been put in a locker and he’d run a metal detector over you to check for bugs. You were used to this process by now, but the knowledge that you’d be meeting what you assumed was going to be another villain made you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You couldn’t imagine what more the villains could need you for, unless something horrible had happened to Shigaraki while you were away and it was time to face the consequences. It made no sense for them to kill you there in the hospital though, so you did your best to keep your fears and imagination in check.

You summon as much confidence and courage as you can as Dr. Garaki finally takes you into the lab where your mysterious visitor was waiting, but you can’t help but falter for the second time that day when you come face to face with a man with charcoal black hair, intense sapphire blue eyes, and skin covered in horribly discolored burn scars. The scent of burnt flesh wafts through the air, making your eyes water and stomach churn.

“So, you’re the little scientist I’ve been hearing so much about,” he approaches you slowly like a predator, the sound of his boots on the cold cement floor making him that much more intimidating. His voice comes out slow and gravelly, the complete opposite of Shigaraki’s anxious, whiny timbre.

“And you’re Dabi,” you reply, trying to match his level of lazy calmness. Shigaraki’s reckless need for destruction was terrifying to be sure, but the calculating way Dabi met your eyes made you feel like he was peering right into the deepest parts of your mind where everything you’d been trying to keep secret was hidden.

“Sorry for springing him on you like this,” The doctor speaks up, still with a tense look on his face. “I just thought meeting him here would be preferable to his original plan to wait and jump out from a dark alley.” You scrunch up your nose at the image while sending an incredulous look at the villain.

“Charming,” you deadpan and Dabi rolls his eyes.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” he replies flatly while lifting a hand to pick at one of the many shiny silver staples on his face that seemed to be serving the purpose of holding his damaged skin together. “If you’re working with the PLF, it shouldn’t matter when or where I show up.”

“PLF?” You feign ignorance and Dabi curls his lip in annoyance. He wasn’t going to get you to screw up that easily. Hawks had told you about the whole “quirk liberation” movement, but you weren’t supposed to know that the League of Villains had joined forces with the devoted followers of that ideology. Dabi took another aggressive step forward, but you held your ground.

“If you’re willing to help Shigaraki,” he reasons, “I think you can afford me the same curtesy since he and I are on the same side.”

“I think that depends a great deal on what you need from me,” you say boldly “Because I don’t recall ever claiming to be on anyone’s side.” You hated how close Dabi was standing to you. You knew he had a powerful fire quirk, even without the uncomfortable waves of heat radiating from his skin. You felt a small pang of sympathy knowing that the burns covering his body were a result of the destructive blue flames he’d been born with. One day, you hoped your research would prevent anyone from falling victim to their own biology the way he had. Dabi had only himself to blame, however, for choosing to use his quirk to take the lives of others. Like Shigaraki, he had plenty of blood on his hands.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about that giant chicken your dating,” Dabi says simply, a challenging look in his eyes. You shake your head and take the chance to move away and get him out of your personal bubble.

“Nope,” you reject him right away. “I won’t do that.”

“Why? There’s no way you actually love him,” a dry laugh escapes from Dabi’s lips. “He’s a hero isn’t he? You’re already betraying him by helping Shigaraki.”

“First of all, how I feel about Hawks is none of your business,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Second, helping your creepy boss and the doctor is beneficial to my career. Divulging secrets about my boyfriend is only beneficial to you. I’d get nothing out of it.”

“Are you trying to make an enemy out of me?” Dabi asks, his voice coming out casual despite the threat of his words.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I’m not trying to make an ally out of you either. If you want to go after Hawks, I’m not going to oppose you. In fact, I’ll even point you in the right direction. If you can find someone from the Hero Commission to terrorize, I bet you’d learn a whole lot of juicy tidbits.”

“It’d be easier to learn them from you,” Dabi sniffs, his increasing irritation was becoming palpable. The tension in the air, not to mention the suffocating heat of his quirk seemed to grow thicker by the second.

“As Shigaraki liked to tell me, there are still a lot of things I don’t know about my boyfriend,” you confess. “But I know enough about him to realize he wouldn’t put up with as much of the commission’s crap as he does if they didn’t have something to hold over him. I’m sure you could figure out what that is if you were motivated enough.” Dabi moves to step into your personal space again, his hooded eyes widening in anger, but the doctor jumps back into the conversation.

“If we could wrap this up soon, I’d appreciate it,” he puts up his hands as a sign of neutrality before looking at you. “There’s a lot I wanted to get done today, and I need help your help administering the next dose of Shigaraki’s serum.” Dabi ignores Garaki completely and continues to stare you down.

“You really think you’ll be able to continue riding the fence from the position you’re in?” he asks menacingly. “You’re worse than the heroes if you stand for nothing.” You eye Dabi for a moment, wondering once again what horrible circumstances life had to throw at someone for them to end up so dark and hateful.

“I’m sure that your motivations, whatever they may be, are valid,” You tell him. “I know Shigaraki mentioned a few of his concerns about our flawed hero society to me before, and some of what he said actually made sense.” You pause to see what Dabi would say, but he remained silent.

“Look,” You continue with a shrug. “I don’t fault any of you for standing up for what you believe and pushing for change. It’s just your methods that I can’t get onboard with. That’s why I can stand aside and let it happen without feeling obligated to get involved myself.”

“And you’ve made your position on this matter clear from the very beginning” The doctor backs you up. You weren’t going to mistake his words for some kind of allegiance though. He had only allowed you into his lab because he needed your quirk and expertise to complete his Shigaraki project. None of these people would ever trust you completely, and you could never trust them.

“You might come to regret this conversation in the future,” Dabi says with an ominous tone that sent a shiver up your spine. “Bad things tend to happen to people who waste my time.” You wanted to tell him that he had been the one to waste his own time, but thought better of it since you knew from watching the news that he had no problems with making good on his threats.

Before things could escalate further, Dr. Garaki sent Dabi through the hidden tunnel that led to the second lab so that you two could finally get to work on Shigaraki. Once the door was shut, the doctor apologized for the villain’s rudeness but then carried on like normal. He filled you in on Shigaraki’s progress over the days you’d been gone, and helped you administer the next dose of the serum. Shigaraki still had some intense reactions to his DNA being modified, but the severity seemed to be decreasing along with the frequency. You wanted to worry more about the outcome of the procedure, but now you had a second danger looming over your head in the form of Dabi.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 19: MJ is NOT a super hero

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Mary Jane is an incredibly gifted woman who you don’t want to mess with. But do those gifts really make her a hero, one who could take on Mysterio?

I was initially planning on looking at Mary Jane’s combat record in this post. However, before doing that there needs to be a dash more context to really put things into perspective.

I could simply cite Sen v2 #32 to prove my point. In this issue the Parker family are on the run since Peter unmasked and opposed the Super Human Registration Act. At her wits end MJ contacted Sue Richards for guidance.

During their conversation MJ opens up about how stressed she is. She even refers to Sue and other heroes as ‘you people’, clearly demarking a difference between them and herself.

Sue basically tells MJ to toughen up, referencing herself, Jessica Jones and Storm, the (then) wives of Reed Richards, Luke Cage and Black Panther respectively.

However, at the end of the conversation MJ points out the difference between herself those women was that she didn’t have powers to fall back on.

There you are. MJ herself acknowledging she has no powers and is not a super hero.

End of discussion.

Well no, because we can dive much deeper.

Let me start with this irrefutable statement: Mary Jane is a bad ass.

She truly is.

Mentally, emotionally, physically, she’s pulled off some truly impressive things.

But the thing is those things she’s pulled off…they wouldn’t be that impressive (if at all) if say, Wonder Woman did them. Or She Hulk. Or Mockingbird. Or Batgirl/Barbra Gordon. Or you know…Spider-Man himself.

So why do fans gravitate towards these things, these feats of heroism, self-defence and protection of others?

Because they are impressive considering Mary Jane is NOT a super hero.

You see it’s all a matter of scale.

The Chameleon is a trained and experienced mercenary but doesn’t possess any super human powers beyond the ability to change how he looks. In what has become one of her most iconic moments, Mary Jane defeated him with a mere baseball bat. This occurred when she knew what to expect, when Chameleon was underestimating her and when he was unarmed. That is  impressive no doubt.

But were the situation the same but Batgirl was substituted for Mary Jane it wouldn’t nearly be as impressive because Batgirl, even with just a baseball bat, is at worst on a similar power level as the Chameleon. But in all seriousness is almost certainly his superior in terms of combat proficiency. She’s thoroughly trained in various forms of hand-to-hand combat, strategy, thinking on the back foot and highly experienced.

And experienced against people who’re actually much more physically dangerous than the Chameleon, such as Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy or the Joker. When you remove Chameleon’s stealth and weapons you are left with someone who is highly violent and could kill the average civilian if given the chance…but ultimately not someone as dangerous as most of the famous super villains from Marvel or DC.

If anything arming Batgirl with a baseball bat would be needlessly excessive, she could defeat Chameleon with just some punches or kicks.

Now apply that same scenario but substitute in Mockingbird, who can dent steel with her bare hands and has an accelerated healing factor and arguably superior fighting skills to Batgirl. Or how about She-Hulk, someone with vastly more strength, an even better healing factor and immensely more durability. And as Wonder Woman…she is literally a millennia old demi-goddess with divinely empowered durability, strength and speed, fast enough in fact to easily deflect bullets. *

If you were told any of these  women defeated the Chameleon with ‘just a baseball bat’ would you  be impressed? Would you feel that’s a huge accomplishment for any of them?

Of course not.

Because on even an incredibly rudimentary power scale common sense would clearly define for you that Chameleon wouldn’t be a physical threat to any of them.

Because they are actual super heroes wit either physically enhanced physiologies or advanced equipment or highly practiced expert level combat training.

The reason MJ dispatching the Chameleon has been celebrated for over 20 years is because none of that applies to her.

Let’s unpack exactly  what MJ does and doesn’t have in her arsenal.

Mary Jane lacks any bona fide super human abilities or advanced combat training.

She has experienced being targeted directly by criminals or being caught up in criminal encounters. But these are intermittent experiences resulting from either her association with people the criminals have a grudge against (typically Spider-Man) or plain bad luck. She does not regularly  in her day-to-day life deal with such things nor does she even deal with them on a weekly basis in her life. If she does they are likely the result of simply living in Marvel’s version of New York city, which thereby means most of her experiences are the same as the average resident of the city.

Apart from these intermittent experiences (and exempting her seeking help from others) the traits she possesses that might (in one capacity or another) be applicable in a dangerous situation are as follows:

She is a physically fit woman approximately aged between 24 and her mid-30s. But nowhere close to being Olympic athlete levels of fitness. 

Excerpt from ‘The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe: Spider-Man 2004’

In terms of conventional/stereotypical beauty standards she is generally considered to be stunningly attractive. She is 5’8” and weighs in at 120 lbs. Her outward appearance then could potentially be used to make her would-be assailants underestimate her or even be dazzled by her beauty as a distraction

Mary Jane is not blind to the harsher realities of life and has developed proficient street smarts. But it’s not like she knows where to find stool pigeons and how to go about shaking them down for information, nor the inner workings of the criminal underworld.

She is a skilled actress particular practiced at adopting the façade of a seemingly carefree and simple party girl

She is at worst rather experienced when it comes to flirtation. Arguably we could extrapolate this into her being decent at general seduction but that’s debatable

She has good at improvising

She is exceptionally skilled in social interactions

She has a pretty decent ability to read people’s personalities, but is not a fully trained psychologist or any similar field that’d make her an expert at reading people very quickly and taking advantage of them as a result

She has certain basic self-defence skills gleamed from classes most people can attend

She has had at exactly one basic training session with Captain America, where the focus was more upon mental discipline and focus. The session never implied he taught her any practical self-defence moves and the session was geared more to instructing Peter  not Mary Jane.

She has demonstrated/developed certain basic and unrefined (albeit often proficient) self-defence skill. These primarily consist of using melee weapons (typically objects not actually designed for such a purpose, like baseball bats) and to a lesser extent firearms, and to an even lesser extent hand-to-hand attacks. Mary Jane for instance has never been shown to practice using a handgun, although she does know how. She can slug someone in the jaw, but she’s never been shown to have trained how to do that, you see what I am getting at.

Technically speaking she possesses a pair of bracelets that are modified web-shooters, along with a set of regular web-shooters. 

The former have a limited amount of web-fluid and are designed to stall a target, with the aim being for Mary Jane to surprise her assailant and buy time to escape, not engage in an outright fight. She has been shown to rarely carry either of these on her person though and there is no implication she has them in Amazing Mary Jane #1. Additionally since she is on set it would be unlikely that she’d be allowed to wear them as they wouldn’t be part of her on outfit for the movie.

Along with most of New York she has possessed identical powers to Spider-Man (in addition to organic based web-shooters) for less than 24 hours, during which time she displayed a proficiency in using them (due to bad writing, literally no one struggled to adjust to the use of Spider-Man’s powers). She has never possessed these powers again since, and this includes in AMJ.

On a handful of occasions she has piloted various different advanced armoured suits designed by Tony Stark. These have chiefly included his rudimentary MKII armour and the Iron Spider armour originally designed for Peter’s use. 

In both she demonstrated proficient defence skills. It is not clear how easy the armours are to use so whether MJ’s proficiency was due to a natural skill or due to the armour’s design is debatable. Regardless there is no indication she regularly has access to this technology and certainly not in AMJ.

MJ possesses incredibly strong willpower and understands the need for self-sacrifice, demonstrating in her time a willingness to give something of her self for the good of others. This could be important in regards to protecting other people.

As you can see MJ’s skillset is impressive for a civilian.

But some instances (like the Stark armours she’s donned) make the depths of her skills unclear. The most advanced equipment she has access to are her web-shooters but she is shown to only use or even carry them on occasion. In both cases she is not shown to have access to either in AMJ. Her other skills are things anyone in real life could hypothetically possess and in fact several other civilians in the Marvel universe either do possess or could possess.

What I'm saying is Mary Jane is, by any metric, a civilian.

A civilian who knows how to use a gun, has had cause to defend her self dozens of times and is very good at thinking on her feet. But a civilian nevertheless.

She has the spirit to cut it as a superhero but not without powers, training or access to advanced equipment like Iron Man’s armour. None of which she currently possesses or has access to in AMJ.

When you get right down to it the reason we fans celebrate whenever Mary Jane triumphs or survives or even just pulls off some good moves against a criminal or super villain is because we understand she is ultimately the underdog.

We grasp that it’s innately more impressive for someone in the featherweight division to even hold their own for a little while against someone in the heavyweight division because normally they wouldn’t stand a chance and we are naturally inclined to be sympathetic towards them.**

This isn’t exclusive to Mary Jane by any means, underdog stories date back to the Bible itself with the classic tale of David and Goliath.

To use an example closer to home though, in ASM #229-230 Spider-Man had to stop the Juggernaut, a villain whose strength and durability had given him a reputation as unstoppable. He regularly tangled with the Hulk and was over all far beyond Spider-Man’s weight class. The story is widely regarded as one of the all time best in Spider-Man history, primarily because  it is such a shining example of an underdog story.

Such stories are fairly common in super hero comic books, but so too is the popularity of civilian supporting characters that contend with outright super villains and criminals.

Alfred Pennyworth is utterly beloved within the Batman fandom with his attempts and successes at dealing with Batman’s infamous rogues celebrated. The same goes for Edwin Jarvis, sometimes celebrated as the bravest of all the Avengers. Jarvis’ popularity is such he was in fact the main character of the milestone 400th issue of the Avengers. And to use a closer equivalent to MJ, Lois Lane’s moments of skill, toughness and bravery in the face of danger are celebrated within Superman circles.

NONE of these characters are super heroes. Even Alfred, who (in most modern incarnations) has some military history, is still a more elderly gentleman thereby accentuating his vulnerability and making his victories all the larger.

With that out of the way, we now have the appropriate context to start examining some instances of MJ defending herself.

* And what about Spider-Man himself? Has he not tangled with Chameleon often? Is it not usually impressive whenever he defeats him? Indeed it is…but rarely whenever Spider-Man physically  over powers him. 

Because we readers are very aware that Spider-Man is physically stronger and faster than the Chameleon and his other powers give him yet more physical advantage over him. 

In fact a poignant Chameleon storyline entailed Chameleon (in disguise) tricking Spider-Man into removing  his powers and thereby rendering him vulnerable.

Even then, the Chameleon opted to hire muscle (mainly muscle with super powers) to take on Spider-Man rather than fight him personally.

Chameleon’s awareness of Spidey’s superior might is arguably the reason he recruited physically powerful Kraven the Hunter in ASM v1 #15 (Kraven’s debut and Chammy’s second outing). 

Spidey’s victories over Chameleon are impressive or cathartic not because Peter overpowers him physically, but does so mentally. This is in fact showcased in the very same storyline that Mary Jane famously took a bat to Chammy’s cranium; specifically Spec #243.

In this story, Chameleon (in the guise of Doctor Kafka) uses drugs and makeup to trick Spider-Man into believing he is someone else. However, drawing upon his will power and affection for his loved ones Peter breaks free of Chameleon’s trap.

**And I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that a part of that for at least some fans is the fact that Mary Jane is a woman doing such things, and a female love interest to boot.

Stereotypically women aren’t superheroes or action heroes, and stereotypically love interests are the ones in need of saving, not the ones saving themselves or others.

For some fans this appreciation of stereotypes being subverted can come from a bad place. “Mary Jane just beat a super villain even though she’s a chick!”

For others the appreciation can be viewed as empowering. To perhaps reveal a stereotypical view of my own, I imagine female readers would constitute the majority of this category, although in theory anyone who feels like an underdog or perhaps vulnerable could resonant with MJ’s victories.

Finally there are definitely some readers who appreciate these examples because they are just plain refreshing.

And of course some people might just like Mary Jane in general so seeing her shine in some capacity could do it for them.

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[unprofessional-bard]

Hello Stranger

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1819

Warnings: Bullying. So angsty at first. Does the end count as fluff??

Summary: Modern AU where Connor is being bullied, and the reader immediately takes action the moment they realise that Connor is being bullied.

Author's Note: This is my first fic where I tried my best to make the piece for readers of all genders! If I made a mistake and used a gender specific pronunciation, please let me know!

// @marshmallow--3 here you go ♡

Enjoy!

Gif credit: aerloria

You knew he wasn't exactly fond of people, you knew for a fact that he liked to be alone and that he didn't exactly like talking to people unless absolutely necessary. He was very quiet, wore an unreadable mask, but generous and kind nevertheless. You had a few classes in common and whenever you'd miss something, or just not attend the class, he was the one you'd always go to see if there was any homework or essays due - anything. And he didn't seem to mind, if anything, you felt like he enjoyed your presence. Or maybe you were just being foolish, but you felt somewhat special because you were allowed into his personal bubble on some level.

But that level was a very low level, it seemed.

"See you at lunch?" Matt, a close friend of yours, asked before you headed your separate ways.

"You bet," you smiled at Matt and turned around the corridor. You noticed how the hallway was partly empty even though the bell had just rung, as you kept walking to the end of the corridor. It was right before you turned another corner when you heard raised voices from where you were headed. Turns out most of the people were gathered there, where Connor and a few boys were stood behind him. People were pretending to either talk with their friends or take something from their locker, but everyone was just watching as the following scenario took place:

"Come on, big guy!" One of the boys, who seemed to be the leader of their little group, spoke loudly. Connor was going through his locker extra slowly, hoping that they'd leave him be, but that didn't seem to be happening. You made your way through the throng of people to see what was happening more clearly.

"Look, Dan! Seems like Connor here is ignoring us," The boy next to the lead said. "He looks so big and tough, but he's just a sissy and nothing more!"

Oh, hell no, you thought as you shoved your way past the people who were watching.

"Leave me be," Connor spoke firmly, without turning around, his voice barely audible.

"Leave you be?" Dan spoke. "Now where's the fun in that, beast boy?"

"Hey!" You yelled as you finally made your way out and into the circle where they all stood. "Leave him be."

"Oh? And who are you? Beauty of our beastie here?" Dan burst out laughing as you rolled your eyes angrily.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Walk away and don't let me see you around him again." You spoke defensively as Dan took a slow step toward you.

"Or what exactly?" Dan said and suddenly, shoved you harshly across the hall.

What you didn't expect was, the moment you got up, Connor immediately grabbed Dan by the collar and shoved him against the wall with incredible strength and ease. Everything was happening so fast, you barely had the time to yell 'Connor!' as a boy approached him from behind.

As if he had a sixth sense and didn't need your warning, he immediately ducked, let go of Dan and tackled the boy to the ground who advanced on him. You, just like everyone else, was shaken at how swiftly Connor moved and took down the boy.

You didn't think twice when you ran towards Dan and pushed him against the wall once more before he could reach Connor, who was dealing with the other boys. Dan let out a pained gasp as his back hit the wall, but immediately managed to land a punch on your lips after his two attempts on trying to punch you. You lost your balance and immediately hit the ground with a painful grunt.

Connor immediately turned around at your distressed tone, and his expression immediately changed from anger to horror when he saw you on the floor. This had to end and it had to end now.

"Stop this!" Connor growled at Dan as he walked over to where you were.

"Why? You and your-" But before he could finish his sentence, Connor's fist connected with Dan's nose in a sucker punch, making everyone watching gasp simultaneously.

"What the hell is going on here?" You heard the familiar, biting tone of the principal boom across the hallway. But it didn't stop one of the boys to strike at Connor one more time, successfully connecting a punch to his nose, doubling him over.

"Connor-!" You cried and rushed over to his side as quick as your unfocused mind allowed. Just as you did, the principal emerged from the crowd; his confused expression turning into one of shock, then anger.

"Daniel and his little gang, why am I not surprised?!" The principal yelled at the Dan who looked like he was about to pass out, then looked at the both of you; Connor's nose bleeding and your lip split open and also bleeding: "I expected more from the both of you- To my office, now!"

"So, let me get this straight," The principal sighed. "You wanted to help Mr. Kenway here because he was being bullied by those four hooligans, but the first physical contact was made by them and the damage made by your side is entirely self defence."

"Yes, sir," You spoke, flinching at the pain caused by your lip. "Everyone was watching Connor being harassed by Dan and no one was doing anything about it, I had to step up."

"How long has this been going on, Mr. Kenway?" The principal looked over to Connor who was holding a piece of cloth to his bleeding nose.

"For... some time." Connor replied after a moment of silence, looking at the ground.

"Why didn't you say something to us Mr. Kenway?" The principal spoke in disbelief, then turned to you. "Did you know of this?"

"Of course I didn't!" You spoke, equally in disbelief. "Had I known... Oh, had I known-"

"A lot of students in this school are being bullied, and I haven't seen the staff help them in any way, so I didn't bother." Connor replied sharply at the principal. "And I know the reason why you are so interested in my case all of a sudden. It is because you know what my father is capable of doing to your reputation."

The principal was quiet, fear had washed over his face: "Your father... yes, he cares a great deal about you, it is true..."

Haytham Kenway was a man of great power, and you knew that Dan and his friend's were going to get an earful when they got home, mainly because they had no idea who's son they had messed with. You looked at the principal, then Connor, then at the principal again. It came to you as a shock when you realised what Connor had said: He just called the principal out with such confidence, you knew it had nothing to with his blood ties. He spoke not because he wouldn't get into trouble, but because it was the right thing to do. The school indeed did not pay any attention to the kids being bullied, and Connor just called the principal out for their horrible mistake. You never thought in a million years that Connor would do such a thing, it was very brave of him.

After a moment of silence, the principal gulped and nodded: "You may leave now... As for Daniel and his friends, you needn't worry about them any longer."

You both got up at the same time and left the room without another word.

"You okay, Connor?" you asked as you both walked side by side.

"Are you okay?" He suddenly stopped and turned to face you. "You did a foolish thing back there, you did not have to-"

"Connor," you interrupted him. "I had to. You weren't doing anything about it, no one was doing anything about it, but someone had to. And that someone was me."

"But look at you, they ruined your face..." Connor protested with a guilty expression on his face as he looked at your lip. You felt like you were going to melt then and there at how caring he was with you.

"So? It'll heal," you reassured him with a soft smile. "Physical scars heal, what they were doing to you back there? That sort of treatment won't heal so easily. Why do you put up with them?"

"Why are you so worried about me? I got you into this, shouldn't you be angry with me for getting you into this?"

"I got myself into this, knowingly and entirely by my own will, the responsibility of my actions are my own." You sighed and began walking again, but Connor gently grabbed your wrist to stop you.

"There's uh-" Connor stopped as if he was trying to construct a very long sentence in his mind. "Would you like to have some coffee?"

You blinked, slowly processing what he had just said. He looked reluctant and in discomfort. You'd love that, but you didn't want to push him into being friends with you: "Oh, you don't have to-"

"There is a nice cáfe not too far from here," He unintentionally interrupted you. "I just... I want to show you my gratitude, please, it is the least I can do."

You looked at your feet, not entirely sure if he's a hundred percent okay with this -as making him uncomfortable was the last thing you wanted- but if it's going to help his conscience, you'd like nothing more.

"Alright then, but you have to tell me where you learned to fight like that," you smiled the sweetest smile you could muster and relaxed when you saw his expression brighten up. "I just did what all the people who passed by you should've done. Had I known earlier... I never noticed, I'm sorry-"

"Don't," his hand shot up to grab your arm, but immediately retreated as soon as your eyes locked. "Do not apologise, please. I put you in this situation and I hate that I did. Let me- let me buy you a coffee and we can forget about this."

But you knew he'd never forget a single frame of the events that took place an hour ago, and neither would you.

You could only smile and murmur 'Alright' as you grabbed the handle of your bag, turning your head away. It really was nice of him to be doing this. You never really had a full conversation with him before, but even though you wanted to talk to him more often as he seemed to have only but a few friends, he seemed uninterested so you kept your distance because you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

But it would seem like he's finally interested in making another friend. Little had you known that this would be the begging of an everlasting, wonderful friendship.

[juniperwindsong]

Necessary Monsters (2/16)

 Summary: 

There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it's almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her face with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear and he can hear her breath catch.

 This is not at all how the evening is supposed to go.

   In his fantasies of their reunion, Felix has envisioned himself at Juniper's side, regaling her with tales of tracking Peruvian Vipertooths in the wild, roughing it in tents for months on end, wrestling with the dragon that left the long, thin scratch down the side of his neck. He's pictured exactly how her eyes will look, wide and riveted to him, as he casually relates his near-death experiences. To be the center of her undivided attention, that's the feeling he's craved for almost a year now. And he's gone to all the trouble of finishing up in Peru in time to endure a ridiculously stressful Quidditch game, not to mention the loud and over-crowded after-party, all to bring his fantasy to life.

   Instead, Felix is left sulking on the sofa nearest the fire place watching as Juniper chats with a crowd of Quidditch enthusiasts, her eyes on Orion Amari as he waxes philosophical. She leans comfortably against the wall beside the common room's stately grandfather clock. Her lips quirk in the slightest of entertained grins as she lifts her bottle of Butterbeer to her mouth and takes a sip. She's positively glowing, the happiness coming off her in waves that bolster the spirits of her surrounding admirers.

   Felix is in despair.

 It's not as though he hasn't considered worst-case scenarios: that Juniper might prefer to think of him as a sort of surrogate brother, or feel dating him to be a betrayal of Barnaby, her ex and his friend, or, the most horrid of notions, that she might even have feelings for someone else. All these possibilities he’s come to terms with, prepared counter arguments for. It's simply never occurred to Felix he might have any sort of competition.

   What began as an embarrassing flight of fancy three years ago has, through their consistent correspondence, evolved into something more, and Felix has finally accepted that the girl he's come to know so well through letters is not only worthy of his affection but might be the only one capable of inspiring it. Now, he realizes he has still been picturing the awkward young teenager he spent so much time with his last year at Hogwarts, with baggy jumpers and unkempt hair and nothing to recommend her to anyone. This young woman, laughing and chatting easily with the people around her, is poised and confident. She has accomplished things, proven her worth, grown into herself. And he isn't the only one who's noticed.

   Felix catches Barnaby staring at her, adoration practically oozing from his eyes and lips. Murphy McNully hasn't been more than his chair's width away from her at any given moment the entire evening, following her everywhere she goes, talking a hundred words a minute. And no matter how hard he tries, Felix cannot shake from his mind that awful image of Juniper grabbing Charlie Weasley around the neck.

   He scowls into his drink. He isn't prepared for this, and one thing he's learned from years of dealing with dragons is you're always more likely to lose a fight with one when you're on the back foot. It's better to leave it and try again when you have the advantage.

   Felix stands reluctantly, debating whether to say goodbye or simply disappear. He casts a last look toward the grandfather clock where Juniper and her friends have congregated, only to discover she isn’t there anymore. A few students in green face paint remain re-enacting their favorite moments from the match, but Orion Amari and Murphy McNully have disappeared as well. Felix’s stomach gives a violent lurch as he considers what this might mean.

   A hand on his shoulder causes Felix to jump. He turns to find Juniper, perched on the back of the sofa, smiling face startling close to his own. Her touch is light, but Felix is as incapable of movement as if her grip were iron.

   "Have you been over here this whole time? I've been looking for you," Juniper says brightly, eyes peering directly into his. Her eyelashes are darker than he remembers, and he wonders if she's wearing makeup or if that's just something that happens to girls as they get older.

   Felix takes a shaky breath, trying to arrange his face into a cool, unconcerned expression.

   "Well, you've had quite the crowd of fans, it's no wonder you couldn't see." He tears his eyes from hers to survey the room. "Where is McNully, by the way, I thought he'd glued you to his chair with a permanent sticking charm."

   "It's getting late. I had to kick all the non-Slytherins out* before the other prefects cotton on and come looking."

   "Yes, an inter-house after-party. I was shocked," Felix comments mildly. He re-seats himself with his back to the fireplace so he can face Juniper, who throws her legs over the side of the sofa and slides down next to him.

   "I'm quite proud actually," she says, and she sounds it. "Anyone can celebrate a win, but to get your competition to celebrate your win?" She grins and lifts her Butterbeer in a toast to herself. "That’s talent."

   Felix smiles in spite of himself and tilts his own bottle at her in salute.

   "Yes, you are clearly talented."

   They drink in silence for a moment, and Felix casts his eyes around, trying to distract himself from the acute awareness of her knees so close to his they're nearly touching. Students are still scattered throughout the common room, but it's now mostly smaller groups engaged in private discussions. He notices it's far less noisy than it was an hour ago.

   "So," says Juniper, propping her arm up on the back of the sofa and resting her head against her hand. "What are you really doing here?"

   Felix's attention is dragged back to the girl across from him, and his heartbeat quickens.

   "What do you mean?"

   "I mean, you hate Quidditch. You can't expect me to believe you came all this way just to see the match."

   Felix gulps, and hopes she doesn't notice.

   “You thought I would miss your moment of triumph?" he asks archly.

   "Felix," says Juniper, and he shivers. No one else says his name just like that and Felix has missed hearing it. "You said your interview was in a fortnight and I know how your boss is. You could barely get away to see that girlfriend of yours - what's-her-name- all last year! You expect me to believe he let you off to watch a school Quidditch game?"

   The way she's looking at him now - suspicious and concerned, a little amused and something else he can't put his finger on - ignites a fiery excitement in Felix's chest.

   "Why do you think I'm here, then?" he asks carefully.

   "I don't know." Juniper looks down at the Butterbeer bottle resting in her lap. "I guess it's just one of my greatest fears that one day I'll get a letter from you saying you've decided to give up dragons and go back home and marry some pure-blooded dimwit who doesn't know an Opaleye from an Ironbelly and wander around your giant manor house bored out your mind at some meaningless ministry job.” She says all this a little too quickly for it to be off the top of her head.

   Felix stares, momentarily distracted from the sensations she's inspiring in him. 

   "That is your greatest fear?"

   "One of. I said one of."

   She breaks into a self-deprecating chuckle that Felix can't help but join. And this is exactly the moment he's pictured for this evening. Juniper's full attention on him, laughing and smiling, conversation flowing between them as easily in person as in their letters. Confidence appropriately boosted, Felix relaxes against the arm of the sofa.

   "Well, rest assured, I've done nothing of the kind. They moved the interview to next week. Apparently, the vacancy at the Reserve needs to be filled as quickly as possible and really it's all just a technicality anyway. And I arrived in the country with enough time to make it to the match, so I came.”  

   Juniper scrutinises him for a moment, trying to determine if he's telling the truth.

   "Honestly?" continues Felix, casually laying his arm across the back of the sofa until his hand is just inches away from hers. "I really don't think I could go back now. Working with dragons, it's..." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a word that captures everything he feels about his new life. It isn't the first time he's searched for this or the first time he's come up short. "Just...incredible. Better than I ever imagined."

   "I can tell. It's a good look on you," Juniper declares with a lop-sided grin.

   Felix can feel heat creep up the sides of his face, and wishes frantically that he knew a spell to keep from blushing. But he's almost giddy at her praise.

   "Really?"

   "Oh, yeah.” Juniper makes a point of looking him up and down in a way that causes the blood to rush out of his face and settle elsewhere. "I mean, you still look like you, just - you know - a bit wilder, bit less refined."  

   She leans forward, gesturing toward the long, thin scar running down his neck and her hand is only a hair's breadth away from his skin. Felix’s fingers spring up to touch the wound reflexively.

   "More scarred, you mean."

   Juniper watches him trace the raised line. "I think it makes you look dashing," she says with a wink.

   Felix forces his fingers back down and lifts his bottle to his mouth in an attempt to keep her from seeing the foolish grin plastered to his face.

   "You look happier than I've ever seen you either. It's nice." Juniper's voice is strangely thoughtful, and something about it causes Felix to lower his bottle and inspect her more closely.

   There's a twitch behind her casual smile that he doesn't remember, as though it's harder to wear than it used to be. And there's a hard quality to her eyes he doesn't recognise either. That, more than anything, makes her look much older, and a different feeling stirs in Felix's stomach. It's the same sort of primal concern he felt when Flint shoved her during the match; a base urge to make whatever it is that's hurting her go away.

   "You look... tired," Felix concludes, and Juniper laughs, although now he thinks he can hear the effort it requires.

   "You are really bad at compliments," she remarks, and takes another swig of her drink.

   "Juniper?" Felix clears his throat, unsure how to proceed. This was not part of the conversation he had hoped to have this evening, but it feels suddenly necessary. "How are you... really? With - you know - everything?" he finishes lamely, unable to put his worries into words.

   "You're referring to this year's cursed vault debacle, and everyone who’s trying to kill me and my friends, and the whole fiasco with my brother?"

   "Yes. That."

   "Fine."

   Felix raises both eyebrows.

   "Really. As fine as you could expect,” Juniper assures him, and if he didn't know her so well he would probably be convinced. "If I look tired it might be because I've had Quidditch trainings every night for the last month as well as exams to study for. I seem to remember you spent much of your sixth year tired as well."

   She raises her Butterbeer to her lips again. Felix notices the bottle is empty.

   "That's all it is?" he asks skeptically, though he isn't sure what he wants her to say. The idea that Juniper might suddenly collapse into his arms, full of tears and in need of comfort is strangely enticing, but he can't imagine her actually doing so. Three years in the wild among trained Dragonologists, and Felix has still never met anyone stronger than Juniper Windsong. Sure enough, she pulls herself up until her back is ramrod straight and looks him directly in the eye.

   "Yes, Felix, that's all it is. I'm done with curse-breaking and vaults and mysteries. You were right all along. I need to focus on my future. That's what I'm doing now."

   Juniper sets her empty bottle of Butterbeer down on the table with a note of finality and inspects the common room around her. It's the piercing gaze of a prefect searching nooks and crannies for rule-breaking students, and Felix almost laughs out loud to see it on her face.

   She really has grown up, he muses, and suddenly remembers all the things he's intended to say and do this evening. It hasn't gone exactly the way he wanted. He's had no opportunity to impress her; no chance to use any of the stories or carefully-crafted lines he's rehearsed in his few free moments. But he wonders if he can't salvage something of his original plan.

   "Speaking of the future," Felix says as casually as he can, setting down his own Butterbeer so his hands are free. "How are you and Barnaby?"

   Juniper grimaces. "That's not the future, that's the past. You know we broke up almost a year ago."

   "Yes, he's been heartsick all year," confirms Felix.

   "He has not!"

   "I've a whole host of letters that say otherwise." 

    Felix means it to sound teasing, but Juniper looks so unhappy he instantly regrets it.

   "Don't tell me that," she moans, running a hand through her hair. "What was I supposed to do? At what point should I have told him, 'I don't feel the same way about you'? After another year? After school? After he proposed?"

   It's as close to distress as Felix has ever seen from Juniper, and a rush of confidence and courage propels his hand across the back of the sofa to brush against her fingers, currently digging holes into the leather. The brief contact sends sparks dancing over his skin.

   "I didn't say you did the wrong thing," Felix says consolingly.

   To his utter astonishment and delight, Juniper leans her head down to rest her cheek upon his outstretched fingers, her eyes squeezed shut. And if Felix thought his skin tingled before, it's nothing compared to this. A sensation like lightning surges up his arm and to his head, leaving his brain fuzzy and unfocused.

   "I hate that I hurt him," Juniper sighs, eyes still closed.

   "He's alright." Felix is careful to keep his voice even. "He's resilient. And he's enjoying his time as a renaissance wizard." His lips quirk briefly at the words.

   Juniper jerks her head up to shoot a warning look at Felix. "Don't laugh. He's learned loads. More wizards should spend time in such pursuits."

   "You're absolutely right," Felix concedes. Juniper doesn't seem about to lay her head back down, he notices wistfully, but she hasn't moved her hand from where it rests just under the tips of his fingers. He pauses before venturing as casually as possible, "And what about McNully?”

   "What about him?"

   "Well," Felix draws out the word, stroking the pad of his thumb across her knuckle lightly, impressed at his own daring. "He stayed awfully close to you all night long, and I noticed his commentary seemed a bit biased on your behalf."

   "What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes flicking toward his fingers teasing hers. Felix smirks.

   "He called you the beautiful, brilliant beater at least three times."

   Juniper snorts, shaking her head dismissively. "We're just friends."

   "The same way you're just friends with the Weasley boy?" Felix’s heart races as he finally addresses the issue he fears most.

   At this, Juniper breaks into a fit of strange giggles. Which isn't quite the emphatic denial of feeling Felix was hoping for. He says nothing, pointedly, waiting for her mirth to cool. When it does, she lowers her gaze to her lap again and chews at her lip in thought.

   "I think... maybe, I'm not really any good at...all that." She gestures vaguely with the hand not trapped under his. "I mean, life-and-death stuff I can do, that's easy, but dating?" Her fingers tap nervously against her leg. "Honestly, I think relationships are more stressful than curse breaking or Quidditch or exams. I just don't know if I'm really cut out for...that sort of thing."

   "You are," Felix contradicts her, entirely without thinking.

   Juniper tries to raise her eyebrows at him, but they remain firmly glued in place and all she manages to do is crinkle her forehead into lines. It's such a familiar expression after all their precarious talk, and Felix is transported back to his seventh year, learning the ropes of dragons with the fourteen year old version of the girl across from him. The girl who nagged him, and frustrated him, and caused him no end of trouble, and eventually, helped him see his life in an entirely new light. Re-inspired by these memories, he slides his fingers between hers delicately, his heart beating double-time.

   "It's like a dance," says Felix softly, adjusting himself on the sofa a little so their knees meet. "You just need the right partner."

   It's a line Felix has saved for precisely this occasion. It's always sounded good in his head, but something in his delivery feels off. He cringes inwardly, saved from debilitating embarrassment only by Juniper's expression of wide-eyed astonishment. There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it’s almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her eyes with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear. He hears Juniper’s breath catch.

   "Ahem."

   The clearing of a throat, slight yet somehow sinister, startles Felix so badly he nearly falls to the floor. He turns hastily to the entrance wall where Professor Snape is hovering, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed almost to slits. Felix's face is so hot he's afraid it might catch fire.

   "Do excuse me for interrupting," Snape intones in a voice entirely free of apology, "But it is high time Mr Rosier took his leave, as he is no longer a student at this school."

    Juniper leans across the back of the sofa to face her head of house, and Felix marvels at how unaffected she seems to be by Snape's sudden arrival, or the intimate moment he's caught them in.

   "Professor, do you think if I were to achieve some remarkable Quidditch Cup win that also ensures Slytherin the House Championship, you might let my guest stay a bit longer?" Juniper asks, her face even but her eyes alight with sarcastic humour.

   Snape's supercilious expression does not change.

   "Miss Windsong, that is the only reason your 'guest'," his lips curl unpleasantly at the word, "is still here at all. And the only thing saving you from detentions every evening now until the end of term."

   Juniper throws a quick glance at the grandfather clock and does a double take.

   "Merlin's beard, is it really after one?" She jumps up from the sofa and spins around quickly, taking in the disheveled state of the common room.

   It's miraculously free of students, Felix realises with relief, and he can only hope it's been empty long enough no one has witnessed the end of their conversation. He gets to his feet awkwardly, smoothing back his hair.

   "I apologise, Professor. I lost track of the time," Felix says to the entrance wall behind Snape's head, unable to look the intimidating teacher in the face. He walks quickly around the sofa to the stairs, resigning himself to the fact that he won't be able to say the sort of goodbye he'd like, when he notices Juniper just behind him.

   "I'll walk you out,” she announces, with a small wink.

   Snape quirks an eyebrow. "It has not been that long since Mr Rosier was last here. I'm sure he's quite capable of finding the way on his own."

   His voice is as icily unbroachable as Felix remembers, and yet Juniper meets his gaze evenly.

   "Of course, sir, but the halls are dangerous. You never know when some new curse will just suddenly appear. It's really best if he has some protection." And she strides purposefully toward the entrance wall without a backward glance at either wizard.

   Not daring to speak, Felix follows her as fast as dignity will permit, passing Snape with a very slight nod. He expects the Potions Master to stop them at any moment, but it isn't until Felix steps through the parting bricks and into the dungeons beyond that Snape speaks again.

   "Miss Windsong," he warns, his voice a deadly, carrying whisper. "On no account are you to leave this school, or there will be severe consequences. Slytherin Quidditch champion or not."

   The bricks close back up between them as Juniper nods her concession.  

   Felix is momentarily stunned. He's never known anyone to take such a careless tone with the Slytherin Head of House and live to tell the tale.

   "Shall we?" Juniper gestures up the hall with a wave of her arm. Felix shakes himself internally and follows her through the dungeons.

   "So, is Snape going soft or are the two of you best mates now?" he asks as they walk. Juniper smiles.

   "He's the same as ever, but I think we've reached an understanding. You know, he really cares about his students deep down. "

   Felix makes a small noise of disbelief at this.

   "Deep, deep, deep down," Juniper amends.

   Felix is far from conceding that any level of Snape, no matter how deep, could be described as "caring”, but he's more concerned at the moment with how to recapture the intimate mood he had achieved before they were interrupted. He casts his mind about for an appropriate segue, but Juniper, as always, plunges in first.

   "So, whatever happened to what's-her-name anyway, your French girlfriend?"

   Felix finds its hard to believe Juniper really can't remember his now ex-girlfriend's name as many times as he's written it.

   "Aurelie. And it didn't work out."

   "Oh," says Juniper with only the faintest trace of sympathy as they mount the stairs to the Entrance Hall. "Sorry."

   Felix snorts unbecomingly. "Really? You only spent a year telling me how I could do better.” He's surprised to see Juniper's cheeks turn pink in the candle light.  

   "Well yes, I just mean...you know...break-ups are always hard, so I'm just...sorry you had to go through...that."

   Her struggle for words, the blush she wears so prettily, and the way she's looking anywhere but at him all seem like encouraging signs to Felix that perhaps, in spite of his inability to make this evening conform to the perfect scene he’s envisioned, it may not be entirely unsuccessful.

   "Don't be," he tells her. "No one was heart broken about it, except perhaps my parents."

   "Ah, yes. Pure-blood expectations and all that." Juniper grins as they cross the Entrance Hall. "So, they send you any new prospects yet, then? Applications to look through?"

   Her question wears the costume of a jest, but Felix thinks he can hear something else behind it and his stomach wriggles in pleasure.

   "I've told them I'll be far too busy for the next year adjusting to this new position."

   "I'm sure they took that quite well."

   "Oh yes, with equanimity." 

   They reach the enormous double doors and Juniper, slightly ahead of Felix, pushes them open and steps through first, waiting for him to follow. But Felix stops firmly on the other side of the doors.

   "Juniper, Snape said you were not to leave Hogwarts. And no matter how chummy you might think the two of you are, there's no way he doesn't get you for that kind of rule-breaking. You'll ruin your chances for Head Girl, not to mention the house points you'll lose. Get inside, now."

   There’s something of the prefect back in his tone and expression, but, as always, it fails to intimidate Juniper into obedience.

   "Don't worry," she replies, amusement colouring her words. "I'm not bothered about being Head Girl. Rowan's better for it anyway."

   Felix crosses his arms and doesn't budge.

   "Besides, Snape said I wasn't to leave the school, he didn’t specify the castle itself. The grounds are perfectly safe."

   "You've been attacked on the grounds more than once. And not just by students."

   Juniper sighs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes.

   "I’m sure Barnaby’s accounts are highly exaggerated. And if it will make you feel better, I won't go the whole way, just down to the road, alright?"

   Felix hesitates. He isn't ignorant of how dangerous Hogwarts has become in the last two years. There are more than just Cursed Vaults Juniper has to contend with now, and the part of him that feels responsible for her well-being has a definite bad feeling about her walking back to the castle on her own so late.

  "C'mon, Felix. I don't really want to say goodbye here in the hall, do you?'

   That argument strikes a powerful chord with him. And against his better judgement, Felix allows himself to be persuaded.

-

   "So, do you know how long you'll be in the country?" Juniper asks in a would-be-casual voice as they descend the grassy slope leading from the castle to the road into Hogsmeade. "The term will be over soon, we should get together sometime before you leave."

   It takes a sincere amount of effort for Felix to reign in his simultaneous excitement and regret as he admits, "I'm afraid I won't be here past next week. As soon as the paperwork is complete, I'll be heading for Romania. I didn't want to stick around too long and give my parents more time to nag at me."

   "Oh yeah, of course," agrees Juniper easily, but there's a very slight note of disappointment in her voice, Felix thinks. The time has come to take a risk.

   "But, once I'm settled...you know, it's not like Peru where I was in the wild all the time in tents never knowing where we were going to be. The Reserve is safe. Well, relatively safe. There's lots of people." 

   He's babbling, which is ridiculous because he's practiced this so many times. It's incredible how much harder it is to focus around her than around man-eating dragons. 

   "You could always come for a visit, if you wanted."

   "Really?" Juniper asks with genuine excitement. "That sounds fantastic!"

   Relief prevents Felix from fully concealing his smile. "I know you'll be swamped with your NEWTs, but I thought you might stay for the Christmas holiday. If you're not too busy, of course."

   There's a brief moment of hesitation on her part, and Felix forgets how to breathe as the worry he's misread everything that's passed between them this evening constricts his chest like a python. But when Juniper turns her head toward him it's with a grin so wide she hides it behind her hand.

   "I would love to, Felix. If you're serious."

   Felix stops. He makes a point of looking Juniper in the eye as he assures her, "I'm very serious," and the colour spreading across her cheeks, just discernible by the light of his wand, convinces him she grasps his deeper meaning.

   The cool night wind tosses her hair gently, and Felix has a brief vision of his hand reaching forward to caress the side of her face, her eyes widening as he leans in to her, and their lips meeting softly in the perfect kiss he's dreamed of for longer than he cares to admit. 

   It's the opportunity he's been waiting for, and Felix takes a slow, steadying breath. But as tries to recall the words he's prepared for this moment, he discovers his mind is entirely blank. He freezes, mouth slightly open. He's reminded forcefully of a night years ago when he stood at the edge of a valley overlooking his first ever dragon, desperate to climb in but unable take a step.

     After a laden moment, Juniper looks away, blush deepening, and trudges off down the hill. 

    “Then, I’ll see you in a few months, I guess," she says over her shoulder, her voice pitched higher than usual. "Always assuming next year's drama doesn’t do me in.”

   It’s a joke, a throwaway comment meant to ease the tension, Felix is sure, but it prods a secret, highly-sensitive nerve, causing him to wince almost visibly. It frees his captive limbs, and Felix quickly catches Juniper up. He grabs her hand to force her to stop and face him, no longer in a mood to appreciate the way her pupils dilate.

   “Juniper,” he says, his voice as earnest as he knows how to make it. “Promise me you're done. Really done. With curse-breaking and-and all the creatures and...you know, life-threatening situations in general."

   "Felix," Juniper replies, with a nervous giggle, glancing between them to where his hand clutches hers. "You know I can't promise that. This is Hogwarts! We're always in danger. If it's not Cursed Vaults and assassins, then it's werewolves or yetis or free-range chimaeras." The concern in Felix's face does not fade, and she sighs. "But I promise I'm finished looking for danger.”

   "And your brother? You're finished looking for him, as well?"

   Juniper stiffens. "That's different."

   "Only because it's worse," he insists, but it's the wrong thing to say. Juniper tugs her hand from his and places it on her hip defiantly.

   "It isn't a choice. I have to help him."

   "Juniper!" Felix's voice is almost pleading, and he would be mortified if this wasn't so important.

   She meets his gaze with her patented look of grim, un-swayable determination. It's an expression Felix hated when he first met her, and he feels an echo of that again. It's a defense he's never been able to crack.

   "Felix, Jacob needs my help. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. He can't do this all on his own. And I can't just abandon him." Juniper tries to force a reassuring smile. "But I will be careful. I promise."

   Uncomfortable silence stretches between them, neither sure what to say next. The sound of rustling grass from somewhere close by causes them both to start.

   "I should get back. Before Snape comes looking for me," says Juniper awkwardly, stuffing her free hand into her pocket. "But...I'll see you at Christmas? If you still want me?"

   Felix watches Juniper’s face searching his for confirmation, and he sighs. 

   "Of course," he says, his voice resigned.

-

  Felix watches Juniper climb the hill in the dark with a pang of longing. He briefly considers running after her, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him, making her understand exactly why her safety is so essential to him. But he knows it would be pointless. Schoolboys vying for her affection, Felix might compete with. But he knows there's no argument in his arsenal that will ever convince her to choose him over her brother.

A/N: *Canon divergent: I've always thought it a bit ridiculous for all the Quidditch characters to be in MC's own house, so my own personal head canon is that Murphy McNully is in Ravenclaw, the house I think suits him best. 

Read Chapter 3 | View all stories on the Masterpost

[itsbuckysworld]

HELLO SPRING DAY 9

Pairing: Bucky x reader basically. Category: College-ish!AU Warnings: SO FLUFFY! Word Count: 1.6K Guest Appearance: Steve, mentions of Sam, a lot of made up names.

Summary: Bucky will never forget his first kiss and his first crush. Specially not now.

Day 9: First Kiss/ Last Kiss , for my Spring Short Story Writing Event

His hands are sweaty, he’s ran them over his jeans what feels over a hundred times by now. He’d told Steve time and time again that they should have stayed home playing Doom, he even promised he’d tell Steve how he always beat him at Mario if they had just stayed home, being the nerds they were, but no. Steve was too excited to have been invited to Stephanie Johnson’s party and he refused to believe it was because Steve had definitely grown taller and leaner over the summer, lost the braces too, and now every girl seemed to have a slight crush on him. It was like he was the new kid all over again.

Stephanie’s house was nice, and way too big for such a crowd. Plus they weren’t even supposed to be there. Everything felt like out of those movies his older sister watched. Steve had abandoned him some time ago, when Lillian Clark had pulled on his hand to go to the back where the 8th grade basketball team was, and Bucky found himself copying a decorative plant.

It’s not like Bucky didn’t like parties, what he didn’t like were the crowds of people he didn’t know and had no idea how to even begin to talk to. There was a reason he was considered a nerd, and so far he liked that. Again his palms felt sweaty. Him being a nerd didn’t exempt him from having crushes and wanting this: maybe a semblance of popularity and a good social life. But his awkward stance, lack of involvement in athletics and chubbier cheeks didn’t exactly make a good combination for ‘king of the prom’. He was okay with that, he had his own interests and talents and skills that didn’t make him shine like a supernova in the hallways of school, but maybe some other places.

His hands were sweaty because he’d been beckoned over to a game of 7 minutes in heaven mixed with spin the bottle, and the whole scenario played like slow motion in his eyes, him taking the tentative steps to join the circle sat on the living room floor, almost directly in front of Y/N Y/L/N, better known as the girl of his 12 year old dreams and fantasies.

Rounds came and went, most of the girls exploding in giggles when Aaron Carter and Leonard McGuire got paired to go in the closet together, but Bucky wasn’t paying much attention, all his little boy eyes could focus on was Y/N. Her plaid skirt and cute half up-do, a hint of glitter on her cheeks, laugh bright like the sun. He wiped his palms on his jeans one last time before reaching out and spinning the bottle when his turn came around. He didn’t know what to wish for; for the bottle to land on Y/N or someone else so he’d be spared the embarrassment of having to talk to her or worse: her being his first kiss? She’d probably had tons of kisses by now, and he’d be so inexperienced in comparison!

Whatever, he didn’t get enough time to even decide what to wish for, when the bottle came to a stop right in front of her. Giggles, ooh’s and aah’s erupted, along with surely come sour comment about Y/N having to go to the closet with a nerd, but all Bucky saw was the pep in her walk as she got up and extended her hand for him to take as he got up and followed her to the closet.

He turned the light on, hearing the laughter on the other side that indicated people were right outside, keeping the door closed until the 7 minute mark, no more, no less.

He stuttered, where to even begin? Did he have anything in common with her? Maybe telling her he sat right behind her in both Chemistry and Math would sound too creppy, right? So he did the most rational thing: outstretched his hand for her to shake and introduce himself. “Hi. I-I’m Bucky” her giggle was out of this world cute, and her hand really soft in his. “I know. I’m Y/N” of course she knew. Y/N was nice, nicer than anyone he’d ever met in school – well Steve was nice too, but that was different. Y/N was nice and pretty and smelled good and always gave him a soft smile on her way to her seat in Chemistry and Math –

The silence ate up around 2 minutes of their time in the closet. Two minutes Bucky spent silently stressing over how red his cheeks must be and how he’s so far only introduced himself unnecessarily and complimented her outfit. Her skirt swished along with her as she took in her surroundings, clearly not wanting to continue this awkward encounter, he thought.

And then the silence was broken. By her. With a shocking question “A-are you... Do you want to kiss me?” all Bucky could do was nod stupidly, because of course words would betray him now. He wanted to kiss her, really really badly. Her smile was tender and sweet as she leaned in a little, closing her eyes and softly puckering her lips, awaiting for him to meet her in the middle.

It took him a total of 5 seconds to tell himself it was now or never, and then his blue eyes were closed and he pressed his lips to her incredibly supple ones, the array of butterflies that ate him whole, something he could never explain.

The peck lasted about 10 seconds, and separating from her was so nerve wracking, he doesn’t know how he didn’t begin shaking like an earthquake right then. “I’m sorry” he felt compelled to say “I’ve… I’ve never… Uh” Why was he outing himself like this? Setting himself up for mockery and embarrassment? “Me too” she said with a blush to her cheeks he knows he will never forget, as well as the shock of the revelation. He was her first kiss too? No way, he quickly decides she’s just trying to be nice. Right?

She’s his first and second and third and fourth kiss, if you’re counting, as they had 3 minutes left that were spent kissing every way two naive 12 year olds knew how to. Sweet, short pecks, with varying head angles and varying lengths, and a riskier one with mouths half open, initiated by her because she’d seen her older brother kiss his girlfriend like that once.

By the time the door was opened they were just standing there, mute and blushy, and the swarm of giggling teen girls took Y/N away from him like a lightning bolt, Bucky knew that the events of that night would be in his memories forever and ever. His crush on her only growing from that moment on.

・‥…━━━━━━━ o ━━━━━━━…‥・

He’s snapped back from the shock-induced flashback when a body bumps into his in the middle of the frat house kitchen he was currently standing in. His mouth, that had dropped open in surprise at what his eyes were seeing, clamped back shut, the drink in his hand almost slipping and clattering to the floor.

My god, it was Y/N Y/L/N in the flesh. 

Still fucking gorgeous, maybe even more so – impossible! Fucking impossible, yet so possible because it was right there in front of him – His biggest crush, his first kiss, the girl he pined after for years and years and years, even when she had moved towns and obviously switched schools in 8th grade, Bucky had promised himself that he would never love anyone like that – and proceeded to get himself his first girlfriend mid freshman year of high school despite still slightly crushing on the distant memory of Y/N. Steve always joked Y/N could have been his first girlfriend if he’d only had the balls to do something about it, to which Bucky agreed when it was too late –

“Bucky?” she said when she spotted him. “Bucky Barnes?��� “Oh, god” He said, both faces splitting into laughter as her arms swung around his shoulders, enveloping him in a hug he returned, swaying back and forth with her. “Y/N it’s been… wow” “So long! You go to MIT too?” “Yeah, you go here!?” “I do! Art and design, sophomore year” she points to herself with the same red cup that is holding her drink. “Civil Engineering major, sophomore year!” each sentence brought in more and more shock. She was there all along? And he’d never seen her? Until a random party at Sam’s – Steve’s new addition to the gang which had always consisted of just him and Bucky – frat house? “What? Oh my god! It’s so nice to see you! You look great” And he did. Joining football and gaining some social skills did that to you. Also growing somewhat of a beard and keeping his hair just the right length. The truth was Bucky didn’t have trouble with girls anymore. “You too!” and god did she look amazing. The skirt, plaid like back then and almost out of his deepest dreams, with stockings and boots and a crop top, could she be anymore the girl of his dreams? “Steve is here too?” She looks around, probably remembering that the two are a package deal ever since diapers. “He’s… around, lost him long ago” he chuckles and some girl tugs at her arm from behind. She sends her away with a promise that ‘i’m going i’m going! Chill’ and turns back to him, giving him all her attention in the middle of the loud and crowded kitchen, making his heartbeat race. “Hey, tell him I said hi, and, here” she’s fishing the pocket of her skirt for her phone which prompts him to do the same. Oh god he’s going to have Y/N Y/L/N’s phone number? 12 year old him is  s h a k i n g. “We have to meet and catch up” “Definitely” after contacts are exchanged, she’s pressing a loud kiss to his cheek as a goodbye and disappearing into the party, leaving him stunned into place, a goofy smile slowly growing on his face

God damn, it’s been 7 years and he’s right back to square one, back to being a twelve year old nerd, at a party, with sweaty palms at the thought that he’s definitely crushing on her once again, if he ever even stopped. 

・‥…━━━━━━━ o ━━━━━━━…‥・

feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged!! 

how cute is this reencounter?!?!?!? Also, let me know if you want to know her POV of this whole thing because I was thinking that’d be a nice little take for me to write, to see how much seeing Bucky Barnes again affects her.  Hint: a lot, she wasn’t lying, he was her first kiss too. 

[eurekq]

so here they are.... my revamped darlings. naohiko, rika, amane, and maya are new! im going to put all their bios under the cut, they’re mostly copypasted from the old ref though except for the new kids :P i really like naohiko, he’s basically an amalgamation of every percussionist i’ve ever known lmfao

basic premise: 16 fresh-out-of-highschool prodigies are invited to star in well-respected and widely-watched big brother-esque reality tv show, which takes place on a cruise ship. what they weren't expecting was for the show's 25th season to be a killing game! the students: CHOUMI YUKIYAMA: exceptional among even her fellow shsls, choumi made her historic mark on ballet by becoming the world's youngest ever prima ballerina at the age of 13 and japan's first ever prima ballerina assoluta at 18. fans flock to her ethereal, angelic grace on stage as well as to the percieved sense of otherworldlyness surrounding her albinism. on the darker side of her popularity, repeated sexual harassment from fans and male dance partners alike has hardened her world view to make her not quite cold, but definitely reserved in her emotions. she adapts fairly easy to stressful situations and pushes through pain with almost no visible outward struggle due to her all too common experience with dancing through foot and ankle injuries. because of this she usually ends up taking initiative in difficult scenarios if no one else steps forward. she is also a quite talented hobbyist figure skater and is fluent in both english and russian. REN KIKUHARA: a fairly odd florist in that instead of ordering flowers to arrange into bouquets, every flower he sells is grown himself. although this means that his selection is seasonally and fairly regionally limited, he has an incredible talent for working with plants and can even sometimes coax out-of-zone flowers to grow. he's fluent in hanakotoba and is surprisingly good at flirting through flowers without it seeming cheesy, although he doesn't do it very often. people often remark that his bouquets often seem to have more love and life in them than store-bought ones. ren is a calm and kind soul and prefers listening to talking, with what he does say always seeming to be just the right words for the situation. MARIKO MIKAMI: mariko was a sickly child, and spent a large part of her elementary school years in hospitals. around the age of seven, she began folding paper cranes as something to do, and wished to live normally after she folded her 1000th. she soon recovered, and feels that she owes her life to origami. she is precise and calculating in everything she does, which shines through in her art: every delicate, artful piece of origami that she makes is creased and folded perfectly. she also dabbles in wet-fold origami. she's most famous for her dry-fold though, and her pieces are well known for their complex, precise, mathematical beauty. she refuses to fold paper cranes anymore, feeling that they are too sacred for her to touch after they saved her life as a child. a calm, slightly disconcerting smile is always on her face, no matter the circumstance; her manner is polite for the most part, if i a little aggressive. MOMOTAROU KOBARA: momotarou, born into a rich family that fufilled his near-every want, made a name for himself in the world of collecting at the age of just eleven by, through luck and love for the series, collecting every pokemon card. from then on he set onto collecting just about anything non-perishable: pins, collectors set bandaids, vinyls, etc. he has exceptional luck in finding deals on ebay and other sites. he cant really be called a hoarder, since he likes to have just one of everything; he resells, gifts, or uses any duplicates. his mood swings between a dreamy, chilled out, flirtatious persona and periods of numb depression when it hits him that his whole life revolves around material possesions and that he has no real human connections. SARA KUROKAWA: a talented young woman from a long line of popular backalley tattoo artists. she combines traditional symbolism and youthful influence in her designs to make something new and more appealing for the younger generation, and is a huge proponent for tattoos being shown off for fashion rather than hidden away in the traditional style. sara does have (illegal) tattoos done by her older siblings on her arms despite the minimum age being 20, although her being homeschooled, looking older than her actual age, and having a tendency to wear long sleeves year round has led her to encounter few problems. she and her family are among the many who simply choose to ignore the statute requiring a medical license to tattoo. sara is a fairly rude person in a backhanded way, acts stereotypically catty and even a little deranged sometimes, and enjoys making herself the center of attention, whether through her appearance (dyed pink hair and white contacts) or the things she says. the only two things that can break her shell and make her excited and genuine are tattooing and piano, which she has played from a young age and loves. NAOHIKO KINZUMI: the son of a concert pianist and a professional jazz drummer, naohiko shortcutted the usual pots-and-pans percussion stage most children go through and spent most of his childhood hitting actual drums. blessed with perfect pitch and a natural feel for rhythm, his parents enrolled him in private music lessons at age five, and he joined onto his first indoor percussion ensemble at age 13. a fast learner, naohiko can play most all percussion instruments at a professional level, including both tuned and auxiliary. he is especially known for his drumset skill, specifically being able to match the speed and complexity of most double kick pedal rhythms with just one foot, and his delicate grace at bowed vibraphone. naohiko is loud, brash, and fun, with an infectious smile and sense of humor that draws people in. despite the flashiness of his drumset playing, his favourite instruments are actually the weird obscure ones, like the waterphone, mahler hammer, and "bucket of loud objects to be dumped on the floor". HARUMI HAMANAKA: harumi is a sweet and bubbly girl, if almost cloyingly so. her good luck is a fairly stable force (nowhere near as chaotic as komaeda, for example), generally acting in the favor of wishes of people around her. her mother intensly wanted for her to be on the show because of the exposure it provides, and this is what harumi attributes to her being selected. despite the way her luck operates, shes no doormat and in fact has an overwhelming force of personality, and her sweet demeanor can become rather passive aggressive if challenged on pretty much anything. SHOU KATSUKI (PROTAG): pushed to succeed in the game from a very young age, shou is japan's reigning chess champion, a FIDE-certified grandmaster, and went to international competition the year before the killing game. he played through to the finals with influenza, which worsened through the matches due to lack of treatment and culminated in debilitating pneumonia that left him in the hospital and unable to play for first. because of this, he's cultivated a sort of inferiority complex that he tries to cover for with self-confidence, which actually comes off as condescending rudeness. he has a natural talent for cause and effect analyzation and is good at planning ahead. he gets flustered easily over trivial things and is a sore loser, but tends not to crack under actual pressure. shou doesn't like to be associated with his family due to the intense pressure they put him under only to steal his winnings the second he began to succeed and thus prefers to be referred to by his given name, even by near-strangers. he does genuinely love chess, but his favourite board game is actually risk. (no one ever wants to play with him, though.) RIKA FUJIMIYA: originally scouted as a young child for her unique eyes and birthmarks, rika's first minor film role at the age of nine left the director stunned at her acting capability. as someone who grew up with a very murky self image and a difficulty interpreting social situations, rika lived most of her early life essentially "acting" the way she believed others would respond well to, which resulted in her easily adapting to doing the same for the cameras. she went on to have a very prolific child acting career without really settling into a niche. As a teenager she took her first steps into stage acting, playing juliet capulet at 16 in a moving and extremely impressive performance, and later at 18 performing a striking and memorable female hamlet. her deep and rich voice has also landed her several voice acting roles. her personality offstage has solidified a lot more since her younger years, although she doesn't go out of her way to talk to anyone, fan or otherwise. when approached, she is polite, gentle, and humble, although she has trouble separating her image as a celebrity from that of her as a person and thus it is extremely difficult to get to know her. KENJI MINAMOTO: an eccentric and a bit airheaded olympic fencer whose strange insistence on not wearing protective gear during practice (he believes it makes him better by giving him a stronger motivation to not get hit) has earned him many a scar over the years, and has left at least half of his joints in braces at any given time. he follows his own bushido-esque moral code (the details of which he will not tell anyone), although he will not put himself above whapping the occasional really annoying person in the ankles. his épée is his best friend and he carries it most everywhere. most of the scars on his face and hands are actually from trying to put in his very sharp industrial piercings while drunk. despite his oddities, his light-footed and elegant ambidextrous fencing has been compared by many to a graceful dance, and although in many respects he comes across as dumb, on the court his mind is laser-focused and unbelievably quick and analytic. AMANE BECKE: a more lowkey type of talented than her fellow contestants, amane hasn't won any major competitions, been on tv, set any records, or anything of that sort. she does, however, run what is widely considered the best bakery in japan. based out of nagano and the daughter of a swiss pastry chef, amane has a natural talent for baking nurtured through over a decade of dedication and love for the craft. she excels at interesting flavor combinations, but her true genius is in her classic, feel-good baked goods. many say that the things she bakes just taste like home and warmth. amane is as warm and sweet as her creations, but with a spark of wit and mad-scientist-y genius that make her an entertaining joy to watch work, if a little overbearing to talk to. EISUKE ITOU: eisuke grew up sewing clothes for his younger sisters barbie dolls, and he particularly loved dressmaking. he gained exposure in his first year of highschool by handmaking gorgeous outfits for his class's booth at the school festival, and, through application to various junior fashion competitions, he was eventually noticed by a big-name designer in paris. however, he found learning french next to impossible and has spent the year prior to the game in relative isolation, unable to have any real human conversation. his psychological state was fairly severely impacted by his long hours spent sewing and designing on internship with no company to get him by, and he is now debilitatingly socially anxious and finds conversation difficult and awkward. MAYA HANABAYASHI: maya spent her early teens with only a passing interest in survival-based media, having enjoyed hunger games and similar media, but not to the point of obsession. however, when traveling on a plane with her father back from visiting family in las vegas, she found herself in a similar situation when their plane went down in a heavily forested area of california, leaving a seventeen year old maya as the only survivor. with only a swiss army knife and a lipstick-shaped stun gun gifted to her by her father to feel safer during their stay in vegas, she survived alone in the woods hatchet-style for six months until late fall, when the fallen leaves made her campfire coincidentally visible to a very observant park ranger on firewatch. after being rescued and returned home to japan, maya found it extremely difficult to readjust to normal life. her thick and warm camo jacket, more a fashion statement when she was wearing it originally, was lifesaver to her during the cold spring, and she she can't bring herself to separate from it even with multiple rips and burns in the fabric. she has refused multiple book deals due to still being heavily traumatized, but after a long period of deliberation decided to go on the show as a way of finally moving forward and acknowledging it. maya isn't exactly socially anxious, but rather closed off and disconnected. JUN TENSEI: born jun harada, many believe that his spiritual connection is the real deal, but a few critics hold that he is most likely just an incredibly talented bluffer. the real truth about him is unknown, but many say that his seances do accurately reflect the personalities of their deceased loved ones and help them feel at peace. he is deeply religious, but not to any one traditional faith (although he does use traditional christian symbols such as crucifixes and items such as holy water on occasion). he believes strongly in the power of the soul and its ability to exist beyond death. his voice is soft and almost hypnotic, and he has a penchant for gentle teasing and riddles. he comes off as pretty shady to most, but he's fairly harmless. TOMOKO KAITA: a peppy and outgoing astrology guru who can read your deepest flaws and strengths with just your date and time of birth. known worldwide for her extremely accurate personal horoscopes. despite this, she strongly believes in the ability of an individual to defy their fate through hard work and self improvement. she dislikes giving negative horoscopes, and does her best to focus on the positives that the stars hold in store. her smile brightens the whole room! she is intensely loyal to her friends, to the point of self-sacrificing emotional labor. YUU IROIKE: yuu iroike isn't even his real name, and it's a mystery as to how show staff even tracked down his mailing address to get him on the show. he's a well-known public figure for painting huge, sprawling, colorful murals in tokyo, yet who he really is remains unknown. he paints faster than his murals can be scrubbed away, and has somehow never been prosecuted for vandalism because his graffiti is generally considered an improvment. he's sly, mysterious, and teasing in person, and gets a bit of an itchy trigger finger when he hasn't painted in a while. His skill with spray paint is so great that it seems as if the paint bends to his very will.

[scripttorture]

Would treating a prisoner like an animal (limiting clothing, making them wear a collar, sleep in a cage, eat bland food out of bowls on the floor, and crawl everywhere) have any long term physical affects on the prisoner? Or could it be done purely as humiliation so long as the captors are being careful not to physically harm the person? If it would cause harm, would you qualify it as visible or clean torture?

Yesthis would cause someone harm.

However-there’s a huge amount of difference in what ‘like an animal’can imply.

Let’s…take dogs because Westerners seem to like them a lot. It’s notuncommon for me to hear about people treating their dogs like kidshere. An older couple I know has a Labrador and it’s hardly everleft alone, lavished with attention and toys. They never hit it orraise their voices and it’s remarkably friendly well trainedanimal.

Icontrast this to some of the dogs I saw growing up at home. It wasextremely common for animals to be hit and they were often mistreatedin other ways. There was huskey kept in a compound near us. A huge,furry, arctic creature that needed to be walked at 4-5am because theheat easily reached 30-45oCduring the day. There was a ‘puppy’ that a family friend found onthe streets. It wasn’t fully grown and was bigger than me, evenwhen starving. It’s ears had been clipped to erect points. It hadlikely been breed to attack humans.

WhatI’m getting at here is that there’s a good chance ‘like ananimal’ means lessharm to you then it does to me. And thank you for giving me someexamples of what you want it to mean, that’s very helpful.

There’sa bit of debate about what counts as ‘physical’ injury in thiscontext.

Thesymptoms torture causes are a result of measurable physical changesin the brain. I tend to talk about this as psychological damagebecause I think that’s the terms most writers and people wouldunderstand it most easily. Butit’s causedby physical injury.

Infact O’Mara describes it as a form of organ failure. And this is aguy who specialises in neuroscience. Which I feel gives a lot ofweight to that description.

WhatI’m driving at here is that you could argue, based on soundscientific study and the opinion of experts, that any tortureincluding ‘humiliation’ causes profound physical injury.

It’sjust not the kind of injury we (the general public) are used totreating as physical injury.

Buthow visible and obvious the damage would be probably depends on howlong this goes on for.

Continuallycrawling would cause joint injuries and repetitive strain injuries.If it went on for long enough it could effect the structure ofskeletal muscles and make it difficult for the character to walkupright. It could even effect the shape of the bone.

AndI think a lot of the injuries from this scenario would be a bit likethat: obvious due to expression and movement rather than obvious inthe sense of visible scarring.

Itwouldn’t necessarily be obvious what the causeof these differences was.

Soa character seeing a survivor that had been kept like this forseveral years would probably see something was ‘wrong’. They’dsee a character who struggles to stand, struggles to walk. They mightnotice behaviours to do with sensory issues- the survivor mightfidget a lot, pick at clothes, they might layer on a lot of clothes(to compensate for feelings of cold or physical discomfort). Theywould probably appear physically unhealthy, malnourished, pale andill. There might be small injuries, bruising, sores and patches ofirritated skin.

Dependingon the observer they might read those signs as symptoms of physicalillness or mental health problems, or poverty ratherthen systematic abuse. Or they might just not notice, especially if asurvivor is trying to conceal their impairments. For example if thesurvivor knows they can’t stand upright and walk unaided they mightchoose to remain seated through the entire interaction.

Youcould argue that that is a clean torture. The injuries are notvisibly obvious. They’re not injuries that the average person onthe street would see and think ‘that’s torture, no argument’.

Youcould also argue it’s a scarring torture. Because the injuries arethe sort of things that courts see as ‘provable’. They’re alsoinjuries that are unlikely to be caused in combination by anythingotherthen abuse.

I’llcontrast that with some things that are definitely clean tortures togive you an idea what I mean. The swelling and sores stress positionsoften cause can alsobe caused by disease, malnourishment and inactivity. Proving in courtthose injuries are from torture means ruling out every other possiblecause. And the obvious signs of starvation can be treated similarly:extreme weight loss can be due to disease and stress.

Atorture survivor can be seen to be chronically malnourished anddangerously underweight butthat still isn’t necessarily court-quality ‘proof’ they weredeliberately starved. Because it could be due to so many othercauses.

Ithink it would be a good idea to cycle back to the first question nowbecause I haven’t quite covered all the possible injuries this kindof abuse could cause.

Limitingclothing can easily become a temperature torture and lead tohypothermia. Especially in a cold climate or if the victim is wet forany reason.

Constantlywearing a collar can increase the risk of strangulation. If thecharacter isn’t usually restrained using the collar then I thinkthe likelihood of death is pretty low. But it’s there and it’sworth mentioning. If they’re restrained using the collar, ie aleash connected above their head, then there’s a pretty high riskof accident strangulation and death.

There’sa reason that people using collars and leashes in a BDSM contextusually don’t leave restrained partners alone.

Cages,like crawling, can have serious long term effects on a person’sability to move normally. Ifthey’re too small.

Picturewhat you had in mind. If the character can’t lie flat, stretch outtheir limbs and stand up straight then it’s probably too small. Ifthey’re lying down inside with their legs and arms bent at alltimes that’s going to combine with the crawling to effect theirmovement and muscles in the long term.

Ithinkthis damage isn’t permanent (I’m not a doctor, double check bylooking up repetitive strain injuries). I believe it can be treatedwith physiotherapy and gradual recovery of full mobility would bepossible.

Thecombination of limited clothing (with the possible temperaturetorture that means), the cage and crawling means that I think longterm joint problems and chronic pain in the joints would be prettylikely here.

Thelack of clothing combined with the cage could also lead to sleepdeprivation which can cause a lot of long term problems. Youcan read about it here.

Thefood couldresult in undernourishment but wouldn’t necessarily do so.

Whenpresented with bland and unappealing food- well people can startstarving themselves. Whichis also incredibly bad for people.

Thiscombination of tortures isn’t necessarily lethal. It can be,especially over a period of years, but if the captors are trying tokeep the victim alive then I think that would be possible with littleeffort.

Butthey would cause a lot of long term problems, physical as well aspsychological. Sleep deprivation (a possible effect here) can causeheart problems in the long term. Long term starvation, even at a lowlevel, can cause problems with the immune system making disease andinfection more likely.

Ithink joint pain would still be pretty likely if a character was keptlike this for a month. Over the same period consistently poor sleepincreases the likelihood of a huge range of health problems.

I’dalso suggest thinking about the hygiene facilities in your set up.Because the less provision for that there is the more likely deathfrom disease is going to be; it’s the combination of poor sleep andpoor eating both suppressing the immune system while the character isexposed to pathogens.

Soif you’re picturing this as something the character is trapped infor a prolonged period think of a way to deal with waste.

Ihope that helps. :)

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Side To Side

Chapter 164: Old Pine

Notes: Characters: Shachi, Ruby, Law, Penguin Rating: Teen Warnings: Depression, Language Notes: Originally, this was going to be two chapters, but I cut some stuff out and edited it so it would flow better as one. Full Story

~~~~~

Shachi stared at Ruby’s shaking hands. He sighed. She may be getting better, but she was still shaky. She still wasn’t sleeping through the night. He watched her fail spectacularly at braiding her hair, clenching her fist as it fell apart.

“Alright,” he spoke up. “I’ll do it.”

Ruby looked over and Shachi almost felt bad for her. He stood up from his bed and walked over to her. “Do what?”

“I’m going to braid your hair.” He pushed her aside and say behind her on her bed. “Don’t complain and don’t fight.”

“You’re just here to lecture me.”

“No, I’m also here to braid your hair.” He gently tugged at it. “But yes, I’m here to lecture you.” Ruby sighed and deflated. “You need to pull yourself together. With Law trying to figure out his brain, you’re the main person for our defense.” She didn’t answer. “I feel for you, Ruby, but you need to be a person again.”

“I am a person.”

“You’re not acting like one. You’re acting so dependent on one person you’ve practically lost yourself. Just because what you’re going through is painful, doesn’t mean you don’t need to pull yourself together. You’re supposed to be independent and confident. You strike fear in men’s hearts when they hear your heels!”

“I’m hardly that person anymore,” she spoke up. “I’m not intimidating and I can’t wear heels for more than a couple hours anymore. You know as well as I do that my confidence was mostly a front.”

“Except when it wasn’t.” Ruby sighed and he let go of her hair. “You shouldn’t lose your personality because of a break up.”

“It wasn’t…” she sighed sadly. “I know.” She pulled away from him. “But I still miss him.” She brought her knees up to her chest and sniffed. “I think if it was an actual break up it would be easier.”

“You think?” She shrugged. “I don’t think so. In this scenario, you can start over, if it was a break up then there wouldn’t be the chance.”

“That’s what makes it hard. I don’t want to hope that it’ll just happen again because what if it doesn’t?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” He patted her head and got out of her bed. “First step is to be yourself.” She rolled her eyes. “Right let me phrase that better. Be your own human again. Be a person who has a personality and more feelings than depression and insomnia.” Shachi placed his fists on his hips. “Not just for the sake of your relationship status, so you can be happy with yourself again.” Ruby was silent. She didn’t move either. Shachi sighed sadly. “I don’t want you to get so depressed that you start to hate yourself again.” Ruby sniffed.

“I know,” she squeaked. “I’m so frustrated with myself.” She sighed roughly.

“I know.” He petted her hair. “You’ll figure it out.”

He hoped she did at least.

~~~~~

“You’ve been staring into space for 20 minutes now,” Shachi said and Law blinked.

“Have I?”

“Yes, I’ve kept track.” Law groaned. “What’s on your mind?”

“Besides the obvious?”

“If you say that Ruby’s on your mind, I’ll smack you.”

“Okay.” He smacked him anyway. “Oi!”

“Stop worrying about her. Worry about yourself, you love-struck asshole.”

“I’m not love-struck, I’m worried about my crew member. It’s my job.”

“Just focus on yourself. There’s no point in worrying about someone who’s more than capable of taking care of herself.” Law grumbled something and Shachi sighed. “You clearly need a break.”

“From?”

“Everything. Look, Bepo said we’re close to an island. We’re going to take you out.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Yes it is. You don’t need to get back into your habit of ignoring your health, again.”

“I’ve never-”

“Bullshit,” Shachi interrupted him. “You don’t take care of yourself and you ignore your own advice. You’ve gotten better about it, but that doesn’t mean that you’ve stopped. We’re taking you out, whether you like it or not.”

“That’s the opposite of making me feel better.”

“Too bad.” Shachi gave him a toothy grin. Law scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he had already given in. Good. It would’ve been a pain in the ass to actually have to drag him out of the sub.

~~~~~

“So then,” Shachi laughed. “You drank is both under the table, since you always have to be right.” Law smirked and took a sip of his beer. “Well, I suppose losing your memory could be worse. You could’ve totally forgot all of us.”

“That’s true enough,” Law sighed. “I do appreciate you guys taking me out tonight, afterall.”

“We’re nakama aren’t we? We want your memories back, too.” Penguin said. “And if you don’t, well,” he shrugged. “You’re still our beloved captain.” Law snorted and took another sip. “What else do you want to know? We can keep telling you fun stories, too.”

“I don’t mind,” he smirked. “I just need to…”

“Get used to it?”

“Find your bearings?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Well that’s what we’re here for,” Penguin picked up his glass and held it up. Shachi followed suit and they tapped their glasses together, and Law did the same. He let himself relax. Things didn’t have to be so anxiety ridden. He was surrounded by his nakama , and they would help him in any way they could.

Law heard a snort followed by light laughter. He looked over and felt his heart speed up.

“Oh, hey. Ikkaku managed to convince Ruby to come out,” Shachi said fondly. Law looked at the four women of his crew and Jean Bart converse. He swallowed when Ruby moved hair behind her ear. She looked nice. He actually recognized that dress, the white one where she said it wouldn’t suit her because of her arms. She did end up looking nice in it, after all.

Jean Bart handed Ruby a soda and she grinned at him. Law hadn’t seen her look this relaxed in some time. She looked better. He hoped that over time she would return to her usual self. He didn’t like seeing her depressed. Shachi cleared his throat and Law looked over to the two grinning idiots at his table (Bepo looked clueless).

“What?”

“You’re love-struck,” Shachi snickered. Law scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it's a good thing! Why don’t you buy her a drink?” Penguin suggested. “It wouldn’t hurt to get to know her, uh, again.” Law shook his head and drank from his bottle.

“This is the first time that I’ve seen her look not completely depressed,” he said. Law studied her for a moment. She had makeup on, but he could still see the bruising under her eyes. That smile wasn’t one of her bright ones, but a tired one. She was still depressed, no matter how good she looked. No matter how badly he wanted to buy her a drink and talk to her. “If she can relax for a moment, then…”

“As I said, love-struck.” Law rolled his eyes and looked at Ruby for a moment more, before turning his attention back to the table.

~~~~~

“Law,” Ruby blinked at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t I usually check up on everyone? Did I stop that?” He stared at her confused.

She shook her head. “Uh, no. I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it,” she wiped her forehead with the back of her dirty hand.

“There’s dirt on your forehead.”

“Ah, crap,” she sighed and walked towards her sink. She turned on the water and shoved her hands under it. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I need an update on everything you’re working on and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well,” she shook her hands dry before grabbing a hand towel. “As of right now, I’m primarily growing broccoli and oranges.”

“For immune systems?”

“Yup,” she grinned. “Also, I’m probably going to switch out some plants around the sub, but that’s unimportant,” she waved her hands. “As far as how I’m doing, I’m fine.”

“Which is why Penguin has said you’re still not sleeping?” Her grin stayed on her face.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. Her face was tight and unflinching, and Law felt his heart squeeze. She still didn’t feel comfortable consoling in him.

“I’m your doctor,” he tried. “Your health is important to me.”

“I’m not sick,” she chuckled. “And my foot is fine.”

“You’re not sleeping, that’s cause for concern.”

“Law,” she sighed with a tired smile. “Don’t worry over me. You have enough on your plate to deal with than my sleeping patterns.” She threw the hand towel in a bin and he sighed.

“You still have dirt on your forehead.”

“Oh!” She grabbed the hand towel from the bin and wiped her forehead. Law stared at her as she cleaned her face.

Law stared at the monitors boredly. His crew had unanimously agreed that he wasn’t allowed to do more than check ups and control room duty. It was so boring. He hadn’t lost his skills, just his memories. He watched each screen. Clione prepping dinner, Ikkaku in the boiler room, Ruby was in the common room messing with a plant.

He watched her drop her watering can and sigh. Law frowned as her hand shook. She grabbed it tightly with her other hand and took a deep breath. She kneeled down and picked up the watering can. She tried to pour water on her fig tree but nothing came out. She shook it desperately over and over until she threw it to the side roughly, severely denting the metal. She breathed heavily for a moment before crumbling to the ground and covering her face with her hands.

Law felt his heart squeeze as she dissolved into sobs. He was glad he couldn’t hear her and he wasn’t brave enough to turn on the audio. Every ounce of his body screamed at him to go and comfort her, but he didn’t move. He was sure that if he did go, he could only make it worse. His memory loss was the reason for her distress.

Suddenly Bepo rushed in with an incredibly worried expression. He kneeled down beside her and started to pet her hair. Ruby hugged him, finally revealing the desperation and pain on her face. She cried into the Mink and Law stood up, no longer willing to watch her break down.

“Ruby,” he called her quietly and she looked up from the hand towel. “Don’t hesitate to come to me for anything.” She stared at him curiously for a moment before sighing with a sad smile. “I am your friend.”

“I know.” She looked down at the towel. “Thank you, Law. I’ll come to you if I need to.”

“Good.” He checked his watch. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Ruby continued to smile as she nodded.

“See you later, captain,” echoed down the hall, along with his footsteps, as he walked away.