#and if you dont do that they think you're lame and they leave you out

[tumbasenalma]

think the main reason i want to come back so bad is so i can finally leave behind this version of myself i built off of lies and lies and lies

[moonsidesong]

family went to see live action little mermaid and i ended up tagging along out of curiosity. better than i expected honestly! a far cry from perfect, but, yknow, i didn't leave angry, and that's more than i expected. halle bailey honestly totally knocked it out of the park as ariel (and also out of the three new songs hers was the only one i liked...)

[cloudcountry]

yippe for auburn writing twst again 🥳🥳

what about leona x male reader who gets headaches and migraines a lot (suffering through a headache rn -_-) also sry if its kinda lame i like never know what to request for writing requests lmao

SUMMARY: leona doesn't tolerate any interruptions when you're hurting.

COMMENTS: its not lame :(( dont say that about your request loser i'll whack u on the head with a leona plush

ALSO please have mercy if this is ooc i always had trouble writing for leona and now im rusty :(( i am so sorry if i do your man wrong I TRIED MY BEST I SWEAR

Leona isn’t heartless. He may seem like that to people outside of Savanaclaw, to people who don’t understand him, but ultimately he cares a whole lot for the people who worm their way into his heart.

You have a headache? He’s sending Ruggie for a cool, wet cloth to put on your forehead, he’s shutting all the curtains in his room to make it as dark as possible, and he’s curling up next to you.

If anyone aside from Ruggie knocks on the door, Leona will hiss at them to leave you alone. They get the message after a deep “leave him the fuck alone” passes through the door. Sevens forbid anyone knocks too loud, he’ll bite their tail off for disturbing you.

If you need medication for a migraine, Leona will be on that so fast. Only the best for his boyfriend! (And by that, of course, I mean he will send Ruggie for it and check to make sure it’s exactly what you need.)

Ruggie can pretend to be offended all he wants (“What, you don’t think I checked his medication myself?”) but he knows Leona just cares about you. He knows better than to tease though...he’d like to keep his tail, thank you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you having a headache or migraine makes Leona grumpier. It makes you smile just a little bit—he cares so much about you and it really shows.

If he catches you smiling he will point it out, mind you. He may make a snide comment or too, but he always has his signature smirk on his face so you know he isn’t serious.

He makes sure you stay in bed—he doesn’t need you walking around and hurting yourself because he got dizzy or being assaulted by the bright lights and noises of the lounge outside. So he’ll throw his tail over you and sleep, holding you until you feel better.

[bahrtofane]

bruised knuckles

 Jude x gender neutral!reader 

While it’s not that surprising that a last minute party invite leads to a fight, Jude carrying you out was a little bit of an overkill 

Word count - 1.5K+ 

Watch it - physical fight, pretentious male character, bruised knuckles mentioned like once. i am so unserious for writing this yall

—————

“That doesn’t make any sense though. “ You scoff idly playing with the rings adorning your fingers. Most gifts from Jude. 

Speaking of, He sits next to you on a sleek black couch. The both of you got dragged away to some party by his teammates on what could’ve been a lazy weekend at home. He got a call way too early than what was socially acceptable on a weekend, (it was 10 am), and was begged to come along. You were already getting up groaning at the whining coming from his phone. Blame it on being half asleep or unaware but you both mumbled a promise to be there and went back to bed. 

So here you are at a party hosted by god knows who in a now packed hotel, god knows where.

You know Jude doesn't like going to these. He calls them a poor excuse to show off and boost egos. You agree, it's all a ruse to see who can drop the most on champagne or bring the model with the most followers home. All just to have pixelated pictures of yourself blasted on social media 

You couldn’t even call it a party to be honest, there’s a crowd jumbling together in an attempt to dance and music blaring from somewhere. It's more of a bad linkedin meetup. Dim lighting flickering poorly and cups strewn carelessly on the floor. It’s lame and you can’t wait to leave. His teammates that dragged the two of you here have long since abandoned the two of you to do.., actually you have no idea what any of them are here for, nor do you care. 

You just continue to sip on your water and try to keep yourself entertained. It's not going very well. 

The guy you're in conversation with sits on an identical couch across from you rolls his eyes, “Of course you don’t understand. I don’t expect you to understand the complexity of such a topic. “

Judes been pretty silent this whole time, watching the exchange. He understands you prefer to handle things yourself and respects that fully. He won’t take that away just to tell someone off. Though the second you ask he doesn't have a problem getting in anyone's face. 

Now his hand moves to your thigh gently squeezing it, a warning to keep things in check for the night. He knows that you can get into more trouble than you care for sometimes. Spurring into action faster than you can actually process what you're doing. 

You dont want to give him anymore bad press but holy fuck is this guy youre talking to an ass hole. You don't even know how he spotted you in the almost pitch black room. He smiled and asked for a picture with the two of you, and had gotten agitated when you declined. 

“At least give me conversation.” He pleaded.

And so here you are. You regretted the choice about 20 minutes ago. 

Your eyes narrow as you clench your teeth. “Listen I don't care for pretty arguments on topics that are in my jurisdiction ”

The man, who’s name you long forgot, just shakes his head and takes a long drink from his red solo cup. 

“I seriously doubt that. You dress like that and expect anyone to take you seriously like come on. “ He snickers. 

Jude tenses next to you and you try your best to calm the both of you down. Jude isn't one to start fights per say but he's not 6’1 (give or take) for nothing. Reputation be damned. 

You breathe deeply trying to resist the urge to beat his ass right then and there. The cheap laser lights only make your head hurt. Jude rubs circles on your thigh, you settle for a quick response instead. 

“What I wear doesn’t mean shit. I look good. What the fuck you have going for you? “ 

“A diploma ?? I don’t think you have one of those do you.”

Your patience is wearing thin, knee bobbing up and down harshly as you try and focus your attention away from him.

Jude stands, gently nudging your shoulder. It's time to leave. And you agree. No worth entertaining this any longer.

Just as you stand, taking Judes outstretched arm with a smile, setting your cup down on the table.  You get one last retort that truly sends you reeling. 

“Oh yeah walk away,” he begins, using his cup to point at you both. When you dont reply he chooses to get up, following you around the table and back into the dance floor. 

“Let the money maker drag you away,” He yells, grabbing into your arm and yanking it back it almost knocks you off your feet“ So worthless compared to him you don't-”

You don’t let the man finish, rushing from your seat to slam him onto the floor. His drink splashes on your chest as you meet the slippery brown hardwood with a loud thud. Your body jerks with heavy force, ears ringing, but you don’t let up. Trapping his legs under your weight, one arm forcing his hands down while the other lands blows into his face. A crowd has gathered, you know that much, the bass that’s been shaking the floor has stopped as people are clamoring around to get a better look. 

That all fades in the next few moments, passing in a blur as the man under you tries desperately to get up with no avail. You're clawing at whatever you can reach, tufts of his hair in between your fists while he yells so harshly you think his voice is about to give out. 

He manages to land a kick haphazardly to your lower stomach, which makes you groan just enough for your grip to loosen and for him to begin to slip away.

Just as you get a good grip on him again you're lifted on the ground watching him skimper away, heaving deep breaths as he grips a couch arm rest. You thrash trying to slip away from the arms but you're caught all too soon. You're yelling at the man, spitting venom. Though the exact words are less clear at this point. 

When you walk out from the blaring lights, you have half the mind to realize you're in a familiar set of arms. Wrapped around to keep you steady, swinging you over their shoulders. Jude. 

The adrenaline rushes through you, blurring the party and its noise out of focus. You do realize you're heading down stairs and outside, the cool night air like a hotel AC on summer vacation, a little bit of an overkill. But it does good to bring you back to reality. 

“You're going to get quite the reputation if you keep this up. “ He sighs, amusement in his voice. 

You have half the mind to respond with a slap to his back. “Yeah well next time bitches need to know not to try me. A reputation wouldn’t even be that bad for me. Might be bad for you“ 

He pats your back gently and continues down the curb, softly setting you down when you reach your car. You lean against the passenger door, wiping the sweat off your face and checking for any major damage across your body. There are none, just bruising on your knuckles. Dude couldn’t even get one proper hit in. The aftermath of your actions sets in and you groan, rubbing your temples. 

Jude gives you a small smile, gently taking your hand in his. You look at him fondly, if it weren’t for him you really don’t know what you would do at this point.

“I'm sorry. This is going to be all over twitter in an hour fuck.” You apologize. 

“He deserved it. Doesn't matter what they say they weren't there.”

You shake your head, “i need to do better, this is just gonna come back to you. I guarantee you everyone was recording.”

“They can think and do what they want.”

“Jude…”

“No more talk of that. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” taking your hands and giving then a once over.

“No baby. Im fine.”

“Thank god.”

“I'm really really sorry, love.” you mutter.

He fixes your outfit, gentle tucking and rearranging the fabric back into place. “I told you baby, it's really fine. He was disrespectful and passed the limit.”

“Do you think he'll press charges?”

“I'm not sure. But for now dont worry okay? I got you. He touches you first anyway”

“Okay,” you breath out. 

“Eduardo’s getting your stuff, he’s gonna be here in a sec. “ He tells you softly. 

You nod your head and lean onto his shoulder, “The carrying me out was a little bit of an overkill babe.” you play with the buttons on his shirt. Trying to find at least a little light in the situation. 

He snorts, “if I didn’t you would’ve mauled the guy.” 

You shrug in response. Maybe you should lay off parties for a while if they keep ending like this. 

[introspectivememories]

can i be honest? i dont think tim and bear have a really grand proposal. i think it happens at their apartment that they got bc bear finally put his foot down and went "baby you're immunocompromised. you cannot live on a murderboat on the gotham river" and tim reluctantly gives in but not without finding some random apartment complex that's still near the marina so he can go down and get his ass beat at poker by pie. and so it happens late at night, when tim is in nightwing sleep shorts and bear's old band tee on and bear is in some horrendous anime sweats and no shirt because their home is the only place he's ever felt comfortable leaving his scars out. and the lamplight gives a soft hazy glow to bear's tattoos and tim reaches under the shirt to scratch and in the movement bear can see the bear tim got tattooed onto his hip and he can't help grin softly. and they're both sitting on the couch as some lame ass procedural drama goes on in the background and they're eating batburger. tim's got the nightwing special and bear has the sword robin combo. and the ringbox is burning a hole through bear's thigh and tim makes some stupid comment about how lame meredith sounds begging some guy to love her and all bear can think is how much he loves this boy. so he gets up to get some water and he positions his phone so that he can get the best video bc tim is a sucker for home video and he plops down on the sofa hard enough that tim turns around to complain except bear is holding the ringbox open with a soft "marry me?" and tim goes "what?" and bear says "baby i have loved you since you walked through the gates of our high school and i loved you when you left and i loved you when you came back. i love the way you talk to yourself and i love the way dance when i put music on. and i even love the fact that you shove your ice cold feet in my shins every night. and i don't know exactly what to say except that i want to do this everyday until you get dentures and i get a hip replacement. and i want to be horny in the old age home and-" and tim cuts him off sob-laughing and says "can i say yes now?" and bear who is also crying says "wait, let me finish love. -and i want to do this in as many lives as we get together. so all this to says, timothy jackson drake, will you marry me?" and tim launches himself bear and shouts "yes, yes, yes! a thousand times over, yes" and they're sobbing as they slip the rings on each other.

[ribread03]

pool day. bsf!Nick(platonic) x reader x crush!Matt PT.2

warnings: Smut, fluff, teasing, Head m receiving, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

AN: Finally getting around to writing part 2 of this. Also Im doing this rather than writing an essay for my English class lol.

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He suddenly pulls away looking at your neck. His fingers brush over the spot he was just attacking with his mouth. "Hope you have some make up with you" He says as he turns around and leaves you there on the counter, alone, after he built up all that tension.

Getting off of the counter you change and walk up to Nick's room to say bye to him. "Bye Nick, I really need to go. Thanks for the bathing suit again." You say before you hug him and head out to your car.

When you reach your car you remember about the deep red, and purple marks on your neck. You are really hoping Nick didn't notice them, but it's Nick so he probably did. Slapping yourself in the face you back out of their drive way.

~~

Walking into your house you drop your bag and head straight to your bathroom. Turning the shower on, -the water being a thousand degrees-. Stepping into the shower you relaxed into the hot water. Grabbing your phone you open the music app and turn on your shower playlist.

About 5 minutes go by and you get a text from Nick. "Shit" you say out loud. You open it not really know what to expect. When you open it you see a photo of Matt but its from far away. Along with the photo is a text that says "This dude has not stopped talking for the past 2 hours. Wanna tell me anything?"

Stepping out of the shower and texting him back you don't really know what to say because you cant tell Nick that his brother gave you hickeys in the bathroom, and was praising you about the way you looked in the bathing suit that Nick got you. So you just reply with a simple "I don't know why he is like that. Idk why you are asking me?"

"I DONT KNOW Y/N. MAYBE BECAUSE YOU WALKED INTO MY ROOM WITH HICKEYS WHEN YOU CAME TO SAY BYE! GIRL AND YOU WHERE ALL FLUSHED TOO..." Nick quickly responds to your lame excuse for a lie. "and after you left I came down stairs to see Matt talking to Chris and you'll be happy to know it was about you."

Walking into your room now blushing from embarrassment and the fact that Matt was talking about me, I try to come up with a good reply to send Nick but I really can't think of any before another text pops up on my phone. It's Chris, the message is not what you expected "Matt only seems to be talking about you btw, and he's really blushing... what did you do with my brother y/n?"

Not know what to say to either of the brothers you decide to tell them some. How Matt said that you looked good in the bikini that Nick gave to you and that you should like it because it made your body look good. But you didn't tell them how he gave you the hickeys and how he left you sexually frustrated and having to deal with it on your own in the shower before they wanted to start blowing up your phone.

Nick is now blowing up your phone even more than before. Asking you to tell him everything because he knows who gave you the hickeys. "Tell me everything y/n! But not to much... that's still my brother you're talking about." So I go on to tell him everything, still in my towel.

~~

Now you are fully dressed, between texting them and trying to get dressed you've lost track of how this even all happened. Deciding to text Matt to ask him what the fuck just happened, your phone pings in your hand. Rolling your eyes you open the text and smile a little when you see it is from Matt. "Im coming over, be there in 5." You didn't expect him to be this up front and out of no where with this type of text.

"Ok.. front door is unlocked just come in." You text him back. Now you're rushing around your house to straighten it up, first your living room, then your room and bathroom. Running around your house going from room to room. Changing into your nice pajamas you go to the kitchen to get a snack. Then you hear the door open. Thinking to yourself that 5 minutes went by really quick.

"y/n?" you hear Matt say from the door.

"In the kitchen!" You say loud enough for him to hear but making sure to yell.

You hear Matt start to walk over to you. Feeling his presence behind you, you turn around to face him now. "Hey." He's standing over top of you, close enough to you to feel the heat coming through his clothes onto your body.

You can feel the tension building "Hi" You say just above a whisper. Not wanting to ruin this little moment

"What are you making?" He questions.

"I was just getting a snack before I headed back to my room to watch a movie, but you text me so I didn't go back to my room." You slightly ramble trying to make up and excuse to figure out why he is here.

"Sorry, I can leave if you had plans to do something." He pauses for a moment. "They were just really starting to get on my nerves." Referring to his brothers makes you think back to the text messages you were getting not even 45 minutes ago.

"Matt, you can stay." You say stopping him before he starts to ramble on.

"You sure?" He ask just trying to be nice but now you feel like this conversation is started in drag on.

Taking Matt's hand you lead him to your room. Going to your bed you flop down with the bag of chips in your hand. Matt is now looking at you standing 5 feet away from the bed. Patting the spot next to you inviting Matt to come and sit, he does.

"What movie you wanna watch?" Trying to ignore the throbbing that is going on in-between your legs now.

"Its up to you honestly, whatever movie you planned on watching before I came over." Matt say.

"Oh, ok then." you say a little surprise about what he said because he always wants to pick the movies or he's doesn't really get into them. So putting on your cheesy romance movie you scoot closer to him so he can have some chips as well. Feeling Matt flinch when your thighs meet sends tingles up your back for some reason.

~~

About 45 minutes into the movie you feel someone looking at you. You know who it is but you still decide you look over at Matt. When you eyes meet he doesn't look away, instead he crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes go wide for a moment defiantly not expecting him to kiss you like that. Kissing him back your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling lightly on the hair at the base of it.

This makes Matt moan into the kiss, sending shivers down your throat. Taking this as your chance to move so now your straddling him. Feeling is hard on under you, you pull away. "This okay?" You ask before slowly moving your hand down his chest down to his dick. Never breaking eye contact with him as he nods his head yes and pulls his bottom lip in-between his teeth.

Your now palming him through his pants. A moan escapes his lips making you clench around nothings. Watching as his eyebrows push together you slide your whole body down, so now your face is level with his dick. Unbuckling his pants you look up at him asking him for permission with your eyes. He nods yes again. You continue to unclothe his lower half until his dick springs up out of his boxers.

Your eyes get big when you see how big he really is. You have heard rumors about his size but you thought that people were over exaggerating, but you were wrong. Looking back and forth between his eyes and his dick.

His tip is red and leaking pre cum just from you touching him in his pants. Puckering your lips together you let a little drop of saliva fall on his tip. This action making him whimper and head fall back. Slowly bringing your thumb up to the slit you slide the saliva down the length starting to pump him a bit before taking his tip into your mouth.

Matts hands go right to your hair when you fully take him in your mouth gaging a bit when he pushes your head down by mistake. "K-keep go-going." He moans out when you hollow out your cheeks. Humming before you pull off of him. Matt letting out a despite cry when you do this makes you giggle a bit.

"Dont worry Matt, you'll get there." You say before grabbing his hand and bringing it down towards your heat, and where you needed him the most. Moaning when he slightly touches you through your panties.

"Can I touch you y/n?" He ask making sure its ok even tho you moved his hand there.

"Yes Matt, pl-please touch me" your practically begging to have his fingers in you at this point.

With this Matt moves you onto your back so that he is now over top of you. Pulling you panties and tiny shorts down throwing them somewhere on the floor. He brings his fingers to your clit moving them fast making you arch your back and start moaning his name.

You feel Matts finger suddenly insert into you causing you to moan his name. "Ma-matt k-keep going. Pl-please." Begging him to let you cum. His fingers move faster as he is trying to get you to your high.

"There you go. Come on, cum for me y/n" Feeling the coil snap as you cum around his fingers. Moaning nonsense as you come down from your high.

You wanted nothing more for Matt to be inside of you right now. "Matt?" you whisper

"Yeah?" He says in-between kissing your neck.

"Im ready, can we.." You trail off but Matt knows exactly what you mean as he pulls his shirt off and helps you with yours.

"You sure?" He ask again.

"Yes, just please, I need you Matt." begging for him to be inside of you once again.

With this Matt Slowing starts to play with your entrance with his tip. Slowly he starts to slide into you. At first its painful due to the sheer size of him but slowly it turns into pleasure. Once he bottoms out your both whispering messes, feeling his fill you so much. He fills you more than anyone ever has before.

Trying to rock your hips against his he takes this as a sign to start moving. Thrusting into you Matt groans as he starts to move faster. Your hands find his hair and tug lightly. Moaning his name and other nonsense of sounds coming out of your mouth.

Feeling close to a second high you squeeze around him. "Matt, Im close." You manage to get.

"Me to princess."

The word princess is enough to make you cum all over Matt dick. Moaning as he is still pounding into you chasing his own high. The stimulation is becoming to much as you try to pull away, but Matt's strong grip on your waist hold you down onto the bed. "Matt, cum inside of me."

With your word Matt is cumming within seconds. Falling on top of you catching his breath as you catch yours. Lifting his head Matt plants small kisses all over your face. Pulling out of you, you whimper with the loss of him being inside of you.

Once you two have both catch your breath, you finally decide to ask the question that's been killing you since he text you. "Matt? Why did you even come over here in the first place?"

He rolls over to face you. "To be honest y/n.. I really couldn't stop thinking about you, and Nick saw the hickeys and wouldn't stop bothering me about them because we went to the bathroom at the same time."

"I mean, you did give me the hickeys. Hes not wrong about that." you say with a giggle.

Planting a kiss on your lips Matt gets up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom. Coming back out with a damp washcloth in his hand to help clean you up. Smiling to yourself as you watch Matt pick up the clothes and throw them into your dirty clothes bin.

"Can I spend the night with you?"

"Of course Matt."

~~

After a little while you and Matt decide to watch a movie, falling asleep not to far into it. Tangled up in each other's arms, not a care in the world.

~~

Walking up to giggles in your room, you are met with a camera in your face with Nick and Chris behind it. Putting your hand up to block it you roll over and snuggle back into Matt's chest, giving Nick and Chris the finger at the same time.

Matt is awake not even two minutes after you are. Now whisper yelling at his brothers to get out so you can get dressed. This causes them so shout and whistle at Matt as they walk out of the room.

After you and Matt gets changed, Matt walks out of the room to go and talk to his brothers. You have no idea what he is saying to them so you have no choice to sit and wait for him to come back.

About five minutes go by when you hear Chris yelling your name. "YOU AND Y/N!" Now really curious about what is going on you quietly walk out of your room and peep your head around the corner.

You see Matt smiling blushing like crazy, Chris is still shocked at the fact his brother made a move on you, and Nick is sitting there fake gagging while giving his brother a high five for making a move.

You see Matt starting to walk back so you go to turn around and go back into your room like you've been there the whole time. "Where are you going to miss y/n?" You stop in your tracks and turn on your heel.

"No where.." You say with a slight smile which gives away your lie.

Matt grabs your hand pulls you closer to him. "y/n, y/l/n... Will you be my girlfriend?" You gasp at what Matt just said. Wiping your eyes you nod your head yes

"Yes, yes! A million times yes!" you say throwing your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.

Gagging is coming from the next room. Nick... of course he is gagging at us. Running over and hugging Nick you thank him for the bathing suit that just got you a boyfriend and sex. Gagging in response he hugs you back.

"Hey! I pushed him to go into the bathroom with you..." Chris says feeling left out. You go over to him and whisper in his ear. "Did you also tell him to leave me high and dry in there?" backing away from him he's smiling. Hitting him on the arm "You're such an ass"

You feel hands grab your waist now. You turn around a meet Matt, giving him a quick kiss, and earning a gag from Nick. You say bye to the boys and walk out to the car with them. "Bye, Ill be over tomorrow."

"Okay" Matt says with a cheeky smile, winking at you.

"Bye y/n, see you tomorrow." Both Nick and Chris say at the same time.

Watching Matt pull out of the driveway you smile to yourself, thinking about how lucky you got to have Matt in your life.

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AN pt2: This literally took me so long to write and idky but I hope you like it. This is my first time writing smut so Im not sure how I feel about writing it yet so bare with me.. anyway I hope you liked this. OKAY BYE<3

[prettyboykatsuki]

territorial woes | k. leona

✮ tags ; fem!reader (referred to as leonas woman very briefly) fluff, territorial / needy leona , he is sickly in love in this sorry they're so domestic, one singular sex joke, this is a college au so everyone is over 18 for sake of my sanity, sfw but this blog is 18+ so minors don't follow please and ty

✮ wc ; 2k (? ? ?)

✮ a /n ; im so embarassed that this is leaving my fingertips actually. i do have to clarify like... i dont rlly think leona gets jealous easily but he can be kind of childish bc he's spoiled if that makes sense lmao. i was so Plauged by this i couldnt sleep its like 4am. i took my melatonin at midnight im so sick. blame @/petrichorium i am not responsible.

✮ synopsis ; leona kingscholar is often annoyed, but not usually over something like this.

He shouldn't have come to class.

The clock on the wall is agitating. Tick, tick, tick. On repeat over and over, plainly the same and piercing. Leona is sensitive to his surroundings, and particularly to noise.

He hates loud noises and sharp cries and he hates the sound of the damn clock in Trein's classroom. He's never been a fan of the classroom setting, general lack of motivation aside. It goes against his very nature to listen to boring lectures and sit through assignments he's already done hundreds of times.

All of his education from being young royalty paid off but ultimately amounts to nothing, because if he wants to graduate he still has to do this all over again.

He's a hunter, so he's not opposed to sitting and lying in wait if there's a promise of reward at the end. If all this sitting around with a twitching ear and bored sigh would amount to anything he'd be a little less annoyed with attending.

And there was one, originally. A thing, that Leona had wanted (which he can only admit to himself begrudgingly) that was worth hauling his ass out of the peaceful botanical garden and into class today. That very thing which is currently giggling their heart out to one of those idiot freshman from the Heartslyabul dorm.

Tick, tick, tick. Leona snaps his jaw close and tears his eyes from the sight, nose scrunched in frustration with a knuckle pushed against his temple.

He wants to go back to his dorm. But he can't. He won't until he gets what he even came for.

The presence of another person alerts his senses, but he relaxes upon realizing it's Ruggie, sitting on the edge of his desk with that usual smug air about him. Leon passes him a glance but doesn't say a word.

"Somethin' troublin' you, my liege? Shyehehe."

Leona all but growls.

"Shut your trap or I'll hang you up by your tail."

"Ouch. That bothered by it, huh?"

"I'm not bothered by squat."

Ruggie laughs hard at that and Leona considers throwing him through a wall. Ruggie is also looking ahead where you at, staring a little more openly than Leona is. He whistles under his breath. He can't remember the names of the two brats, but they're always together. One of them with orange hair and the other with the short blue.

"They're pretty close with those two, yanno. Heard they were having sleep-overs and all durin' their first year.''

Leona narrows his eyes. The clock ticks on. Ruggie grins and Leona knows he should just up and leave. It's stupid to be hanging around here. It's lame that he's even looking. He should just go up there and—

"They're best friends, basically. Been like that since before you two had a thing going too. Way before that, I think."

Leona knows well enough what Ruggie is doing. What Hyena's are good at, goading his annoyance to push him to act. He's looking for a show, and Leona is nearly tempted to give him one. Nearly.

You're not the fierce type like the women back home. You probably wouldn't think twice about it, just bat your little lashes and wave your friends goodbye like the herbivore you are if he decided to drag you away. You'd pester him, follow him around while he acted moody and cold for a while before frowning.

You'd get mad at first, before huffing and saying sorry for something you didn't even do. Mumbling and poking around until Leona eventually drags you in his bed to nap instead of being outright about any of it. If his sister-in-law knew he was acting like such a kid to his woman, he'd never hear the end of it. It's that voice in his head that keeps him stuck in his chair, seething.

"Not like you to be so docile, King." Ruggie says. Leona shoots him a mean enough glare that he backs away in fear.

It's not like he's being docile. Not really. There's more to it than that.

Thing is, Leona is used to being chased. Regardless of his inferiority in birthright, he's still royalty. Royalty means plenty of people itching to get in his good graces to get a taste of the highlife. Leona is used to cheap tactics of seduction and luxury in order to earn his favor - he can smell it from away. He's always half expecting to uncover secret intentions.

It never happens. You are all by all measures, frustratingly sincere. Leona doesn't really know how to respond to it. You don't pay mind to his royalty or his ability aside from a normal amount of awe. You're an herbivore firstly, and a stranger to this world after that. Whatever traits in Leona you've latched onto, he can't wrap his head around nor does he understand.

It's the first time in his life that he's gotten into a romantic entanglement like this. Where everything is all lovey-dovey and things are so important. He's always been respectful to his women but he's never been seriously in love in his life. It's different from just being decent. He cares what you think to an extent that's unfamiliar. It's not like he'd ever fix his mouth to say all that, but it really matters that he does things the right way.

Leona doesn't usually act in self-interest, to begin with. Cocky as he may be - he's still king and kings act in the interest of his people. Regardless of what it looks like, you are part of his people. His pride, in more simple terms.

It's not being docile as much as it's an effort to show some respect for you.

Leona isn't usually jealous about petty, trivial shit. It doesn't matter to him what you do or who you do it with in your own time. He likes that you're independent, too.

He is however, a territorial apex predator and a prince. For better or for worse whenever he looks at you, all he can see is to prey animals encroaching on his territory.

That's the part of him that's raring to go. Teeth clenched and agitated, brows all drawn together in frustration. Leona wants to go back to his dorm, but he wont without what he came for. It's putting him in a bad mood.

But ultimately, he doesn't move from his spot. Ruggie leaves eventually when his mood has soured completely. His head is on the desk and he's got his eyes closed, but his ears twitched at the sound of your chair dragging on the floor.

"Can you guys walk Grimm back to the door? I'm gonna go with Leona. Thanks! See you later,"

And just like that, the classroom clears of the last nuisances occupying it. Leaving only you and Leona and that ticking clock together.

He hears you walk up to him before he sees it. Your voice is annoyingly pleasant to listen to.

"Leona? You sleeping already?"

He's starting to understand why his older brother folded at every single word that came out of his sister-in-laws mouth. He lifts his head just barely to look at you and you're looking at him all wide-eyed. He wants to tick you off a little, but can't conjure up any ideas.

"You done with those little yippin' herbivores you call friends? Can we leave now?"

You frown.

"You're in a bad mood. And don't be mean to them, they are actually my friends, you know?"

He scoffs and your frown deepens.

"Leonaaa," You drag out the syllables of his name as you stand beside him "What's wrong with you?"

He hears you pull a chair up. When he finally sits up, you're sitting directly in front of him on a chair turned backwards. There's hardly any room between you. Your face is twisted up with worry.

Leona reaches to pinch your nose. You pull away making his lips twitch upward.

"I shouldn't've came to class." He complains. You rub your nose but don't say anything back, considering him.

"I didn't think it was that bad today though. I guess it might always be for you though since you know like, everything, but I don't—"

Before you can keep going, he leans forward to press his lips to yours. It shuts you up effectively. Your lips are soft. They're sweet and a little sticky - mouth warm and welcoming.

When he pulls away, you blink at him.

"What were you sayin'." He asks.

You look a little taken aback.

"I don't know. Oh, uhm. I liked the lesson. It's fun to learn stuff about this world, I guess." You stumble over your words like you're shy. It's ironic to him, but charming all the same.

He grins.

"What? You nervous after a little kiss?" He teases.

You flush.

"You're not usually that forward, dummy. Which brings me to my question again, what's up? You're sulking."

"What the hell? I'm not sulkin'"

"Yes you are. Your doing the little nose scrunch thing too. Did something happen?"

He pushes the comment about his nose scrunch away entirely because he's sure thinking about too long is gonna get on his nerves. He glares at you for a while, debating on what he should say. Truth is, he is a little pissed. But he isn't going to tell you that your little chat with friends is making him territorial. That would be ridiculous.

There's a brief moment of silence before you pause. You tilt your head, eyes shining with curiosity.

"...Were you lonely?" You suggest.

His face drops.

"You're not the jealous type usually, but you're like a big overgrown kitty. So, you missed me right? That's why you're moping?"

The tone of your voice makes him want to pinch you again.

"Watch your mouth, herbivore." He grits, agitation rolling back into his tone like a wave. And you laugh, the nerve of you. Giggle a little as you lean in closer.

"You didn't say no."

"Shut up." He says, weakly.

"Leona," You say his name again, a little sweeter. Purposefully full of affection and he hates everything about how mushy it's making him feel. You reach your hand up to his head, petting behind his ears in the place you know he likes "I'm sorryyy,"

"Do you go 'nd tuck your tail between your legs like this for everyone? Where's your self-respect, huh?" He means to say with a lot more characteristic sarcasm.

But it all comes out gross and sweet sounding instead.

"Mm, no? It's just that my boyfriend is pretty shit at being honest about his feelings so if I don't dote on him he'll wither away like a houseplant and—"

He covers your mouth with his hand and glares at you, faux annoyed. And you're giggling against his palms, all bely laughs. It's all a little nauseating for him. He pulls away by cupping your jaw instead, squishing your face together.

"When'd you get so damn mouthy?" He grumbles.

"Since forever ago." You say through squished lips. He huffs, leaning forward to kiss you a second time. You're all soft everywhere. Squishy and mellow. Leona kisses you three times in the process, each one a little more impatient than the last before releasing you.

He doesn't let go, hand going to cup the back your neck instead. He cradles your head close, sighing against your mouth.

"Annoying," He says. You smile at him and he has to look away to deal with the intensity of it.

"You love me." You say with a smile. If only you knew the half of it.

He doesn't say that of course. Just scoffs as he stands to his feet, dragging you with him. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. The warmth of your body makes him purr.

"In your dreams. You owe me for cuttin' into my naptime."

"What can I do for you my liege?" You say sarcastically, grabbing his hand openly. He squeezes it "You wanna take a nap with me?"

"Can't promise I'll get you in my bed and not fuck you about it." He says with a lazy chuckle. You nudge his side.

"You're so crass."

"You love me," He mocks. You huff.

"Unfortunately, I do. Could use some rest though," You yawn, and blinking blearily "So nap time it is. 'kay?"

He kisses the side of your head.

"Sounds good t'me."

[doodle-do-wop]

Rayni (open discussion post)

as some of you may have heard/seen I am Rayni Aria's biggest goddamn hater

I can't stand her ass

I recently read/listened through Stellarlune for the first time and I hated her the moment I met her. Yes I know the ending of Legacy, I know how it all flows

But I Still can't stand her

Why? Because she is a literal blob of nothingness on the page

Spoilers for Stellarlune

Rayni Aria is a character who was once the Neverseen member Glimmer (dumbass name btw) who, allegedly was involved with none of the Neverseen's major plots so far; The Kidnapping of Sophie and Dex, their torture, jumping Sophie, Keefe, and Silveny in Exile, Mt Everest, the gnomes etc etc etc

Allegedly she's had zero part in any of that because they just stick her in a corner and even when Gisela was overthrown she still didn't do diddly squat, she just read medical books. Sure. Okay

Her life previous to joining terrorists willingly was she was just a normal girl with a normal life until people started to whisper speculations about her parents' relationship not being all of what it says on the tin. Her parents are found guilty of messing with the match system to be together and avoid a Bad Match status and are made an example of by banishment But Rayni isn't banished with them as instead her parents leave her with a note and are never heard from again Rayni drops out of Foxfire and lives in a rented room in Mysterium until Gisela finds her and tell her to quit her unemployment and join her emo band Cool, alright. Mid and extremely questionable loyalties. So you'll just go with whoever reaches out their hand first. Good to know

Beyond her frankly uninteresting backstory Rayni's personality is the exact same cookie cutter cardboard cutout mean girl leave no coughed insults unspoke persona that is so old and over used I think Shannon might've actually managed to resuscitate this dead horse. Rayni whines and bitches about how 'no one will trust her' but does absolutely nothing to win herself any favors. Instead she seems more than chipper to keep digging at her own grave so why dont we just drop this whole pointless scene and let her keep on going at it She's boring. She's bland. She's lame. And don't get me started on the weird cat lamp thing I don't know if Shannon was going for 'oh look she likes cats' or 'boo hoo she's so broken and jaded an this lamp is the one thing that lights up her dark dark soul'.

Rayni is weird, her vibes are just so off and so lack luster. Her depth is so shallow I couldn't even soak up a puddle of it with a napkin.

What's the point of bring in a bad guy now good guy/anti hero if all they do is snark in the corner, pet a cat statue, watch the protagonist do jack diddly squat and be like "oh yeah, you're a leader now" girl what??? That entire scene where Rayni unmasks herself was so boring if I cut out the only other emotion I felt while listening which was annoyance. I listened and live reacted to it on discord with some friends as my witness and what even was that scene? Tam is supposedly the one holding the talking stick in the group I guess just because he and Rayni are just such good buds so obviously he should take point (cause no one thinks he's brainwashed) and the entire time Rayni bicthes and moans about how no one trusts her (girl you're wearing a stinky, smelly, raggedy terrorist hood. You couldn't ask to trade it for a less stinky less terrorist embroidered one?) and while yeah people poke holes at her and take small jabs Rayni really seems gung ho with tossing playground responses with 14-16 year olds at her grown ass age. She's one year younger than Wyile and while young adults in their 19/20s arent mature at all it is CRAZY to me that she bitches about no one trusting her and then turns and calls Fitz Sophie's "telepath back-up" I believe the correct quote is "You're basically Sophie's telepath backup" and this is said to Fitz and that was just the most absurd thing I've ever fucking heard spoken by Gisela's fucking lapdog. Fitz is done so dirty in this book and Rayni basically calls Fitz a "backup" like he's a damn battery or some waterboy Sophie only needs to use like an object. The worst part isn't that its the bad guy's lapdog with questionable loyalties that says this. Its the fact that no one stood up for Fitz. No one said anything. And Sophie fucking laughed. She laughed at that. And Fitz is the only one to blame for their fucked up cognate bond, sure. (Biana, FITZ'S FUCKING SISTER also says and does nothing because Biana is just a little poster Shannon sticks on the wall this whole book)

And not to mention that whole bit with Rayni constantly comparing her and Stina as if they're different faces on the same coin. Like you can't sit there in your terrorist onesie and look someone in the face and be like "Yeah your life is gonna be just like mine. Just you wait. It's coming for you. And then, yeah, you'll be just like me. Huff Huff" and then get mad when she doesn't like you in the slightest. Like yeah, I just love sitting in the same room as someone who tells me my life has a timer on my happy days because we're totes twinsies. Shannon should've let Stina punch Rayni because if this snarky little bug really wanted some damn allies wouldn't she want Stina on her side? You know, the most outspoken nay sayer in all of the Lost Cities? If you're gonna bring up your little Gisela Mini-Me act get good Circus-Circus.

If I wanna like Rayni I need more depth than Miss Hardknock Life over here who gets her kicks out of throwing tantrums when people dont trust her while she wears a terrorist hood and gets her kicks out of replying to every petty response.

If I could, I'd rewrite that whole scene because I genuinely love big groups in books and it would be fun to see a diverse group personality wise instead of the same 'bad bitch' boring outline. I can't believe Rayni's 'tough' personality is a facade because she's not just tough to trust. She's tough to want in any way shape or form She's not Heather Chandler, She's not even Heather Duke, she could never even dream of being Regina Georgie. She's so 2D she flies away with a tiny sigh. The whole book could've honestly been the exact same without Rayni around. Erase her and simply have Trix reach out on his own or something and you still have the Esilyum plot intact. Rayni was just there to make a page count for nothing of any great importance.

That's just what I think of Rayni. She annoys, bores, and pisses me off. She's like the physical embodiment of an Instagram comment section. If yall want, please tell me what you think about her because I genuinely want to know what makes her even the slightest bit interesting to any of you. I like headcanons and I can be convince to take a lot of them. Will my opinion on canon Rayni change? Who knows man

[tbatthis]

been thinking about shi-long lang all day as one does and have said this in increasingly incoherent ways with the langnaheads but like. i think it's so so funny how hard he constantly contradicts himself out of pure spite for edgeworth when you first meet him in case 3 lmao like. okay insane rambler long post time

he makes a big deal about showing people proper respect when you greet them, then Immediately calls edgeworth a Filthy Prosecutor who sucks fucking ass. he talks about how he leaves all the lame shit like "logic" and "truth" to the stupid cringe prosecutors and their stupid cringe courts but he also wants to prove that he has really cool epic logic and reasoning because he's the best investigationman who ever lived.

he talks about how Courts And Truth Don't Matter, Just Arrest Any Freak You See but he is actually using entirely sensible logic to accuse people like "hey you're the only guy with an unaccounted-for gun and you've been standing directly outside the place the guy got shot in." like edgeworth gets very tilted about this because lang's a huge dipshit about it but functionally he's doing what edgeworth does in every mainline aa case he prosecutes in. he's basically just using reasonable deduction that would probably land the real killer in a normal case, but he has inadvertently stepped into ace attorney where every culprit is the glue man who has invented a special glue that allows him to walk up and down anything, so Of Course The Guy At The Scene Who Owns The Only Gun That Could Be Involved isn't the dude.

and like all of this adds up to "lang appears to be a huge asshole who arrests anyone and doesn't actually care if he gets the culprit" but he also keeps explicitly demonstrating that he takes the investigation seriously and does actually think about the case and who could potentially be the culprit in a logical fashion. he doesn't literally arrest every single person he sees. he does actually have reasons for his actions beyond Arrest Em All 1989. and again he literally refers to his line of reasoning as his logic.

so like honestly i think the answer to "why does he keep saying truth and logic dont matter and are for gay nerds like edgeworth" is that he doesn't actually believe that and is just so perpetually angry at The Courts and prosecutors that he's just spouting it because he thinks a prosecutor's use of "logic" is inherently suspect and they're trying to reason their way into pushing a lie on people. and because he is shi-long lang and is the most ridiculous man to ever exist this manifests in him talking like a cartoon bully shoving the science geek in the locker. so like the consequence is lang seems insane. and he definitely is because he constantly roleplays as a wolf. but in reality he is a lot more reasonable than he presents himself, i think he's just so far into hating The Courts that he doesn't like to associate what he's doing with anything that might happen in a courtroom. lang isn't using "logic" to find "the truth" he is using "the detainment philosophy" to find "the criminals" which is very different he swears. he is not like the stinky courts.

also i think there's something in how when he's being antagonistic to edgeworth about his methods he says it's fine to just arrest whoever because "hey everyone's done something wrong" but then the second shih-na starts getting accused in case 5 he just totally refuses to entertain the idea she could ever do anything wrong. so like either shih-na is his special exception due to the fact that he is in love with her as know or he was once again just spouting shit he didn't really think to piss off edgeworth lmao

basically i think lang comes off this way because he's coping hardcore and wants to make edgeworth mad. which i think is really really funny and adds a lot to his Dumb Guy Aura

[just-some-sorta-person]

Reo, Nagi, and Reo and Nagi

Getting lots of thoughts about Nagi and Reo in anticipation for the new epinagi chapter cus I'm just nervous and they have lots of brainrot potential. Like they're just so cute but also heartbreaking but also but also- not just together but separate too.

Reo

I get lots of thoughts about how Reo interprets reality. Like, he's just so delusional sometimes?? Like from the light novel

"Although Reo's strength was a modest number, his speed, stamina, agility, and jumping ability already surpassed the youth team's average. However, Reo was greatly unsatisfied, thinking, 'I'm so lame'" I understand being dissatisfied with average among the best, but thinking that you're lame... The perfectionism also shows in how he insists that Nagi make it clear when he's not good enough for them to play together as the best in the world, when Nagi starts out complimenting him. He seems to have self esteem issues in general. There's also when Nagi left, and in Epinagi he wonders if Nagi thinks he'll make it past 2nd selection, and asks why when Chigiri and Kunigami want him to join their team, surprised at their answer.

Then there's when Nagi thanks Reo for introducing him to soccer and Reo is so shocked, he thinks Nagi is dying. And when its established that Nagi is not dying, Reo says that he's matured, which I would interpret as Reo simply not taking that thanks as true gratefulness, but rather politeness that Nagi has matured into giving, since he's usually so insensitive. He doesn't consider that maybe Nagi has felt this way for awhile, and simply wanted to express his honest thoughts because he thinks it can't be true, to some extent. Or at least that's how I read it.

But as someone who knows how straightforward Nagi is, I feel like he should know that Nagi is just straightforwardly expressing his emotions. Reo sees, he just can't bring himself to believe or trust in it..

I mean, I'll be honest a lot of his delulu moments come from how he interprets his relationship with Nagi. And I think he's aware of it too- that irrational emotion that overwhelms him when it comes to Nagi. I think its because he let his guard down, and got really attached.

As Reo says, "He might be able to experience a storm of infatuation and obsession with this person. No. He can definitely do so."

(Also, can I just take this moment to make fun of Reo for saying this immediately after "The fact that he's playing games by himself during lunch break means that he's a game otaku. Zero exercise factor..." , "The face that looked up at him had an emotionless and cold expression...It was so drained of spirit that Reo thought that he looked half dead.", and "That person thinks that Reo will give him money if he asks for it. Weirdo." Like what haha)

And, the thing is, theres some evidence in epinagi that Reo is very aware of this weakness of his, and hates it. Like, he seems so crazy in the anime during the toothbrush pulling additional time, and even his response to Nagi leaving him behind for Isagi seems pretty extreme from an outsider perspective (I think some people will disagree with me?), since Nagi isn't saying they should stop being friends, nor is he denouncing Reo as a whole. He just wants to play soccer with someone else for a bit. If you take a step back from the metaphor of playing together as a romantic relationship, this really isn't that unreasonable? But it causes Reo to develop a vendetta against Nagi. It almost makes it seem like Reo is upset that he got his thing taken away from him, with how much he apparently needed to play on the same team as Nagi always. (This isn't the case). It's a jealous obsession, and you can see Reo's awareness of this in chapter 14 of Epinagi

"I dont want to remember. We've both moved on to new teams. I should cut my feelings short there. All I'm doing is dragging it out. I wonder if he even thinks I'll advance to the next round? If I wash out here, what'll happen to him? He told me we'd be together until the end... But he left me. What if he's living it up with Isagi and he's already forgotten about me? These thoughts just keep running through my head. Over and Over..."

The conclusion being- "I hate myself right now". There's an interpretation of this involving the relationship=soccer metaphor, but tbh I kinda refuse to go along with that because I think its much more interesting to see Reo's interpretation of playing soccer with Nagi being the same as being friends with Nagi as like a misinterpretation on Reo's part, rather than some kinda metaphor-made-reality thing. And I think by the way this is prompted by Kunigiri banter instead of anything soccer related makes it clear that this is not about soccer. If it was about soccer, the action that would trigger Reo's feelings would be Kunigiri doing some sorta soccer combo, not them being super good friends.

(Epinagi really is a gay shoujo romance masquerading as a sports shonen manga ehehehe)

In any case! We can see with this final sentence that he can't stop thinking about Nagi and hates himself for it. Can also see him being delulu with the Nagi/Isagi besties thing lol. Also, the way he says "We've both moved on to new teams. I should cut my feelings short there." it really does seem like Reo equates playing with Nagi to being able to be friends with him, and I think part of what plays into this is Reo's insecurity. I mean, he's been shown to view relationships as somewhat transactional, right? With how he brings Team Y together with food bargaining, with how he gets his highschool team together using similar bargaining tactics, by promising them idols and fancy meat, with his relationship with his parents where they will only let him pursue soccer if he can prove that he can become one of the best. Even in his relationship with Nagi, he spoils him a lot in return for being able to use his talent. Everything is conditional.

In that context, it kinda makes sense why Reo assumes everything is over when Nagi no longer needs him for soccer. Reo doesn't really get that even if Nagi doesn't improve through Reo or need Reo, that Nagi would still want to be partners, because its never really been like that for Reo. The focus his parents put on rationality and practicality and performance also helps to explain why he's so bad at figuring out what to do with his obsessive/jealous feelings, and why he hates himself for it. He's not allowed to be emotional or imperfect, so he was never taught how to deal with those feelings. I mean I think in general, always being the competent person good at pleasing the masses, at popularity, at everything, does not prepare one well for these kinda things. Having emotions beyond your control, I think.

Even beyond this, we can see how Nagi has effected him emotionally in how his dreams change. Getting Nagi was originially all for winning the World Cup, but somewhere along the way, it got to the point where when they entered Bluelock, Reo's goal wasn't to become the best himself so that he could win the World Cup, but rather to make Nagi the Best. A goal that literally has nothing to do with winning the world cup...

It makes me SO CURIOUS where he's at by 207. I think before Nagi asked him for help he'd managed to bury them, and make a path toward abandoning them entirely. Afterwards? I don't think he's gotten any better. He's still possessive, seems to want Nagi to have eyes only for him, and when Nagi gets sappy with him he laughs it off and refuses to accept it. When he dismisses Nagi's thanks as deathbed confessions, was it to protect himself from trusting? Knowing how little Reo thinks Nagi thinks of him, it seems like something he would have been overjoyed to hear, which really makes his response seem like a cautious dismissal. Especially his panel of shock, I wonder if there's that fear of assuming too much again, getting too close again. I'm really curious.

Nagi

Nagi gives me brainrot in a less angsty way, since he started so low that things can only really go up from him now. He went from having to buy a cactus to talk to to having a rich bf who adored him and did everything for him, to being able to escape his apathy and develop a passion that he really seems to be enjoying. Reo really made his life better and he knows it - writes poetry to Reo in his head constantly, joined a weird soccer cult for Reo, even after Reo slapped him away, Nagi remained dedicated to their dream. If Reo is underconfident in the security of the Nagireo situationship, Nagi is overconfident. He really seems to think Reo can read his mind? Lol.

Even so, because he's less soccer obsessed, he's at least a bit more grounded. He doesn't mind if Reo plays with people better than him, didnt want to join Bluelock because he didn't want him and Reo to be rivals, all that really seemed to matter to him at first was being with Reo. So, while Reo equated their partnership to being a soccer duo, Nagi saw it as an extension of their friendship. Unlike Reo, He's not particularly possessive. Like I said, he said he wouldn't mind if Reo chose to play with another player at the start. But he does care a lot about him - gets angry at Barou, plays soccer for him (at the start), wants piggyback rides, lets him pet his head... It really feels like while Reo needs Nagi more, Nagi admires Reo more, trusts him more, has more faith. It's quieter, but arguably more intense. (Reo fell first Nagi fell harder agenda) He actually seems to have an idealized vision of Reo in his head - An example of him thinking of Reo as greater and more perfect than the real person would be when he tells a despairing Isagi that Reo wouldn't act like this, and then epinagi jumps straight to a despairing Reo. Nagi really thinks Reo is more perfect than he actually is. Rose colored glasses. Wonder how this would interact with Reo's perfectionism.

There's that one interaction with Zantetsu I really like where Zantetsu asks him why he plays football and Nagi replies that its because of Reo, and all he's doing is tagging along. Zantetsu recognizes that Nagi, the hassle guy, is certainly doing a lot for Reo and asks what's so great about him, to which Nagi replies that its the first time anyone has been interested in a slacker like him

To which Zantentsu responds " ...You're down bad for Reo a wierdo." and "You're so loyal don't seem like a bad guy".

There uh wasnt really a point to that. I just wanted to talk about it because the respect they have for each others motives lives rent free in my head. And I think its interesting how Zantetsu immediately gets how much Reo means to Nagi, but Reo still doesn't understand after all this time.

Something I wonder is if part of the reason why Nagi is so bad at communicating and anticipating Reo's emotions is because he was apathetic and friendless for so long - disconnected from the world. Or well, I do theorize that part of his communication issues come from talking exclusively to a cactus for awhile.

Episode Nagi vs. Blue Lock

One image that I think really illustrates the difference between Epinagi and the main manga is Isagi's flabbergasted face when Nagi is having that moment with Reo where his hand gets slapped away.

He's so confused because they are not speaking his language. Reo's all like "you didn't choose me" And Isagi is like "And what does this have to do with soccer?"

Meanwhile once Reo switches gears to "I'll crush you" (expressing some form of ego/competition) Isagi is back to being the soccer manga MC.

It makes me wonder tho what's in store for our duo. Because in the main manga, they're back together, but they're not doing so great (if you look at the greater picture). There's tons of foreshadowing that Nagi is meant to fall from grace after reuniting with Reo, with Ego saying he'll get overconfident because of that dangerous goal, and Agi saying he's lost interest, as well as Isagi himself saying that there will be no more miracle goals. In the context of the main manga, it seems like while being a duo makes Reo and Nagi happy, its bad for their football. In the grander theme of Egoism, Reo seems doomed due to playing for Nagi instead of himself (tho this may not be as much of an issue due to his goal not being becoming a striker necessarily), and Nagi seems doomed because he's so comfortable with Reo that he won't experience despair and grow. The solution to this seems to be another fight or separation, maybe from Reo this time (thus breaking my heart).

However, from Episode Nagi's perspective, them being together in some fashion is integral to Nagi's goals. The manga starts with a remark on Reo's effect on Nagi, and so a permanent separation seems unlikely.

So is the ReoNagi duo good or bad for their soccer? It may function well if they reach some sort of arrangement that satisfies the ego rhetoric of the main manga, though I'm not sure what that would be. From the perspective of the main manga though, I can't see the duo ending well. From the perspective of Episode Nagi, however, their duo has to be maintained. It feels like two contradicting forces pulling at each other. How could this be resolved? There are some possibilities.

One possibility (though I don't like it so much) is becoming egoistic rivals who play together and push each other to their limits. The reason I don't like this is because this concept of rivalry and devouring is too similar to the main manga, and its kinda boring for a spinoff to take so much effort to just tell the same story in a different font.

Another possibility is that they fail in the main manga, and the spinoff is a tragedy about how Reo's discovery of Nagi doomed his soccer? Not a fan of this one because it would make me a lil sad. Though maybe it would be paired with the emergence of a friendship or relationship (I am not optimistic enough to hope for romance so at most hinted) that does not rely on soccer. It'd be a cool subversion, if a bit unsatisfying to see their dream abandoned. Honestly, I'd find this kinda path to be very interesting, but it seems to risky for it to actually be taken. It would explore the negative impact of tying your relationships to the sport, and suggest a mindset of happiness above mindless success. Seems risky though... very risky and subversive. And given the codependent nature of some sport duos, very satisfying to see the necessary separation of sport and friendship explored. Taking a positive spin, that would mean that because Reo is the one that nurtured Nagi's soccer genius, Nagi doesnt become the best soccer player but he does end up being happy :)

Another possibility would be Nagi just straight up leaving Reo and keeping him in thoughts only. That would hurt tho. Make me sad and depressed. I dont know if Reo could survive this.

Maybe Reo learns to motivate Nagi by becoming so good that now Nagi has to chase him instead of the way it was the other way round before. Not a fan of the manipulation undertones to that, so it may depend on the execution. Also just doesn't make much sense to me since it doesnt seem sustainable. Though maybe it could just be Reo learning to give Nagi more space to grow, and their friendship could just mend on the side separately. That could be nice.

Something else that doesn't seem likely to me, but I would like is for the point of Episode Nagi to be for Nagi and Reo to disentangle their situationship from its dependence on soccer, freeing them to be individual egoists while not necessarily pitting them against each other as rivals. This allows them to develop by the standards of the main manga, though it does make them a bit boring since they wouldn't really be taking an alternate path to star strikerhood. I like this path though because disentangling the situationship from soccer would have to involve them COMMUNICATING THEIR FEELINGS such that Nagi understood Reo's needs/insecurities and Reo understood Nagi's devotion. Reo would get affirmation that regardless of his performance, Nagi would still be his partner outside of soccer. And Nagi could be his, but outside of soccer. And they don't need each other. They want to be around each other. And I also think that a story leaning away from the codependency could show that once you realize you can function without the other, it makes it all the more meaningful when you choose to be together anyways. Because it's not a need, but a want. A want powerful enough to last. 

But that would really solidify that Epinagi is not about soccer, and while I joke that it is not about soccer, because it really doesn't feel like it is, I cant quite trust that it isn't because it is a spinoff of a soccer manga.

Something else that could happen is Nagi finding that his ego is realizing his and Reo's dream.. something that is romantic, but given how his ego and interest was kickstarted by Isagi seems a lil unlikely? But not impossible. Just because it was kickstarted by Bluelock doesnt mean it can't manifest and be fueled with Reo. ehhh idk if this really fits with the concept of Ego tho. I also feel like this won't force them to communicate or help Reo be more focused on his own performance, as opposed to only Nagi's goals (something I think he has to do, since serving Nagi makes him predictable and is reminiscent of that transactional relationship thing I mentioned earlier that he should probably learn is not the case). It would be consistent with the start and focus of epinagi tho.

At the end of the day, I don't know what will happen. Sure is fun to theorize tho!! :D

Nagireo, Reonagi

From a shipping perspective, I think their relationship is so interesting because its so complicated, and influences their lives so much. They are also polar opposites in a way that highlights their personalities. I think a meaningful exploration of Nagireo inevitably becomes an exploration of Nagi and Reo as characters. I'm not usually a fan of the miscommunication trope, but its a little different with these two because it really makes sense to me that they would miscommunicate- in fact, it seems inevitable that they would end up misunderstanding each other. Because of that, the misunderstanding feels meaningful instead of frustratingly inserted or forced.

Nagi idolizes Reo because Reo saved him from apathy. And because Nagi was apathetic and disengaged from society for so long, his communication skills suck, and he probably has a habit of not putting as much effort into conversations. When you combine those things, of course Nagi would act like Reo can read his mind.

Reo is used to getting what he wants, deems anything below genius boring or lame, and thus doesn't necessarily think highly of himself despite his accomplishments and hardworking nature - especially if you take into account his upbringing and parents. He feels trapped, and finds freedom in playing soccer with Nagi. With the transactional way Reo views relationships (I wonder, what it means for someone who views things as transactional to give so much to someone?) , and his perfectionism, it makes sense that the moment he wasn't the center of Nagi's world, he'd come away with the most despairing interpretation. An interpretation Nagi would be really bad at correcting.

So really, a misunderstanding feels inevitable with those two. Reo assumes the worst, Nagi is the worst at anticipating that and correcting it.

Despite that, I really like them together, not because they're the most functional, but because they care about each other. I really get why Nagi would be so grateful and devoted to someone that helped that drowning dull sense of apathy subside, giving him a chance to live an explore a world that didn't previously feel like his. And I really get why Reo would crave the freedom that Nagi granted him by making soccer possible for him. And also I think he kinda likes how much of a loser Nagi is lol, because its unconventional, and therefore interesting.

And I also get that sense of insecurity and drive, like if you fail you're nothing, and all your relationships depend on your success and ability to prove your skill - if you can't do the thing you're worthless and if you're worthless you're alone.

And also the loneliness of apathy, the sense that you're in your own world and there's no one around..

And I really feel like that devotion could help heal that wounded pride, and that sort of gleeful drive could really drive the apathy away...

The comfort in that is precious, I think

[neutron-stars-collision]

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 19 - You'll be the promise, I'll be the scream

Masterlist; Chapter 18 Summary: The aftermath of Riddler's words. You're forced to face the fears and talk to Bruce. Neither of those is an easy feat... Warnings: 18+; tones of angst, R's internal crisis and... them smuts ✨ Author's Notes: Woo, she made it! Incredible! Outstanding achievement. Seriously, though, I know it's been a while. To compensate - this one is long. Like 10.7k long. And it's also explicit bc them idiots needed tension release of the traditional kind :))))) It's probably only one chapter and epilogue left now so... getting emotional. A little bit. But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now... buckle up, 'kay? You're gonna needed. (I know they're idiots). Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Tag list: Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5 (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).

(gif credit: @makoto-shinkai)

Returning to the Wayne Tower from Arkham felt like a fevered dream. You could barely remember how you got there from the street by your house where you had directed Gordon to drop you off. Only that no matter the distance from the prison, your heart did not get any lighter.

Riddler’s words still rang out loud and clear in your head, slowly driving you crazy. The tower was blessedly quiet and empty when you reached the study and collapsed into the armchair. One look at the phone screen and a quick read of the only text that awaited you confirmed the expected – Bruce was already out and would be back later. Probably much later. Which was good. The last thing you wanted was to be confronted by someone you could not lie to. All hopes shattered when Dory walked into the room not a quarter of an hour later.

It was easy to pretend then, quickly falling back into the role you knew well. You smiled when appropriate, forced down a meal that could not be contested and produced a lie that worked in your favour. Dory had no clue. It did not matter that your heart was breaking beneath the performance. You were stellar, as always.

It was a relief to have her retire to her room not long after you finished eating. You were finally alone. It was a no-brainer to turn down all the unnecessary lights and carry your stuff to your bedroom, closing the door behind your back. You got as far as sitting down at the foot of the bed when your brain caught up. The memories came rushing in, Riddler’s voice as clear as in that cell, taunting you just like he did. What if he was right? What if your father was a monster, and you were following in his footsteps? There were no answers. Frantic brain kept running through all the pieces you had ever written, quickly finding those Nashton could have meant. The times when you were relentless, pushed too far. The times when you should have stopped. The solution was simple – he was right.

The steady stream of tears rushed down your cheeks, smudging the mascara you had recklessly put on in the morning as you lied down on the covers and curled up. The weight on your chest was not going anywhere, making it hard to breathe. Near impossible to leave the spiral once you got absorbed in it. An endless onslaught of self-hatred poured out along with the quiet sobs that wrecked your frame. Each thought felt like your heart being ripped out, piece by piece. The smithereens bled onto the duvet as your mind circled back, time and time again, to that one idea.

The worst one of them all. The fear that you would hurt Bruce. That it was all you were capable of doing, destroying what you held dear. Perhaps it had already happened; the guillotine was let loose. About to slash your neck, once and for all. Maybe it would’ve been for the best.

After a while, the tears had dried out, the parched throat begging for a glass of water. But you did not want to move. Did not seem to have the strength to do so. Slowly, you raised your head enough to see the inky skies outside, for once free from rain clouds. The moon peered shyly into the room, painting the floor silver. The thoughts were still there. The pain had not left.

You were almost close to dozing off from exhaustion when faint creaks of the floorboards in the corridor outside made you open your eyes. Someone stopped right by your door, hesitating. Somehow, you knew who it was before they decided and pressed the handle. For a split second, you mourned that you had left the door unlocked. Then Bruce stepped inside, and all you could do was close your eyes against the sudden pinprick of pain in your chest. The silence was deafening. Almost enough to make you speak and answer the thousands of questions he seemed to have. You never got quite that far.

As if reading your mind, Bruce closed the door behind his back and slowly approached the bed. His body was tense, uncertainty visible in every move. You could only imagine what he saw when he came closer. You did not dare to move, passively staring at his approaching form until Bruce stopped two feet away from the bed and raised his head. Enough so you could see his expression. The haunting blue eyes were now flooded with concern and fear. Before you could dwell on what you saw, Bruce spoke:

“What happened?” his husky tone dripped with worry, making you wince from the sound alone.

But you did not feel like giving in to him just yet.

“You could’ve knocked, you know” aware of the tear tracks tainted with ink from the mascara on your cheeks, you did your best to glower at him.

Judging by the defeated look you got back, it was a futile attempt. Bruce took another step closer, visibly pondering whether he should sit next to your slumped form.

“Come on, don’t give me that. What happened?” his tone softened a notch, enough to make your heart pick up its pace.

And to make you sit up, silently offering space should he want it. Training your mind on the floor, you whispered:

“I met him” you could hear the unspoken question in the heavy silence, forcing you to add, quieter still, “Riddler,”

Bruce gasped as if he had been hit in the stomach.

“What? Why?” the disbelief in his voice made you look up.

Seeing the horror on his face as if he could not believe what he was hearing. It was enough to make shame bloom in the pit of your stomach, yet again making you wish you could disappear. But there was no divine intervention. No opening pit in the ground or a merciful hand to end it for you. As if subconsciously wanting to make the pain worse, you forced yourself to look him in the eye as you spoke:

“Because I wanted to. I was curious, so I asked Gordon to take me to him after the witness statement” as soon as the words were out, you could feel the tears welling up.

Because hearing it said like that spoke volumes about your idiocy. How it all could have been avoided if not for your lack of logic. It was not surprising to hear Bruce groan in response,

“Jesus Christ,” a muttered curse dropped from his lips as he covered his face with his hands for a beat, then raised it to fix you with a glare, “Why did you-”

Somehow you knew what was coming. And that you would not survive it if Bruce scolded you, pointing out all the ways you had fucked up and the reasons why you could never be enough. For him or anybody else. So, you interjected his incoming rant with the wavering voice:

“Please, don’t. I know it was stupid, and it definitely taught me a lesson” it was impossible to hide the pain from your tone, keen on getting the message, “So if you’re going to berate me, I’d rather you left” what was supposed to be a stern warning, never got that far.

Instead, the condition sounded weak, like a thinly veiled plea for mercy. And it was not wrong. To your immense surprise, it worked. Bruce visibly winced as his words seemed to catch up with him.

“God, no. I’m sorry” seeing immediate contrition felt good enough for you to nod your head in agreement to his silent question, allowing Bruce to sit down and finish the thought, “I just… What did he say to you?” he kept his distance yet the softness in his voice felt like a reassuring hand-squeeze.

You glanced at him, hoping to convey the gratitude. But even that was not enough to make you eager to tell the tale.

“Many, many things” a choice for the moment was a tentative opening.

A quick attempt at dodging the question if Bruce allowed you.

“I’ve got time,” he didn’t; leaning back a fraction to appear at ease.

To highlight that he wanted to hear it, that he had nothing else to do but listen to your sob story of naivety and stupid decisions. From the look in his eyes, you could tell you had no other choice. Letting out a sigh as a preamble, you shifted your gaze back onto the floor. You could already feel the familiar burn of tears.

“Um… in a nutshell, my father was a monster directly responsible for what happened to your mother. I’m exactly the same, devoted to the job so much that nothing else matters” you heard Bruce’s sharp breath intake but did not grant yourself the right to look at him, “He asked when am I going to destroy you and finish what my father started” the wobbling voice cracked as new tears streamed down your cheeks again, ever so eager to make an appearance; they forced out the most vulnerable of confessions you could give him then “The worst part is that I think he’s right” there it is, as always.

Without giving you time to dissolve into sobs that choked up your throat, Bruce moved, his careful fingers lifting your chin so he could lock his eyes with yours. There was no escape from his knowing stare as he delicately swept his thumb over your tear-streaked cheeks before dipping lower to trace your cupid’s bow. Unable to hold his tender gaze, you closed your eyes.

“He’s not,” the gentle whisper was filled with conviction.

But it was not enough to convince you. Not quite enough to stop the vicious thoughts.

“But-” your protest got silenced before you could get a word out.

As if knowing what you needed, Bruce leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before squeezing your hand with his unoccupied palm. Reluctantly you opened your eyes, realising the intended effect. He had your full attention.

“Listen to me. The point of that conversation was to rile you up. To make you believe those things and go insane because of them,” his firm tone captured your mind, as did the heat in his eyes, betraying the anger Bruce felt on your behalf, “He loved every second because this is what he does. He gets under your skin, feeds on guilt and insecurities and amplifies them” tangling his fingers with yours in what felt like second nature, Bruce allowed the passion give way to fondness, strengthening the message “But the main point is that it was all bullshit” on its own accord, your mouth twisted into a weak smile, triggered by something as unusual as hearing him curse “Nothing else” he finished the speech with another hand squeeze as he raised your joined hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles.

The gesture, along with everything he said, made your head spin. The logical part of your brain knew Bruce was right. But it was a small fraction of an overall emotional consciousness, which would not be settled quite so easily. You hoped that perhaps the longer you stared into his eyes, the more convinced you would become.

Leaning into his palm that still cupped your cheek, you whispered a question:

“How can you be so sure?” one that you were scared to ask but still needed to know.

To understand what it was that Bruce saw, that you were blind to. Why he trusted you when he should not?

“Because I know you,” his confidence did not waver as he offered the response without hesitancy, “I know that you care about everyone around you, that you would do anything for those you hold dear. And that, above all, you’re a good person” Bruce concluded his speech with another kiss on your forehead, a rare sure smile hiding in the corners of his lips.

At once, the vicious voices in your head grew silent, emptying the space of all that was not affection and gratitude. Even if just for a moment. The prickling tears were not going anywhere as you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of Bruce’s hand clasping yours. For the first time during that long day, you felt the stifling weight lift off your chest.

“Shit, you’re going to make me cry, sweetheart” cracking a weak joke, you risked a glance at his reaction following the nickname.

Bruce grinned, no longer pretending to mask the fondness with an eye roll. Even with the haze of tiredness quickly descending over your head, you greatly appreciated the change. Enough so to creep a little closer still and lean your head on his shoulder, covertly inhaling the familiar scent of laundry detergent, expensive cologne and dampness of the terminus. A strange concoction that already felt like home, although you would never admit it.

“I mean it, though” Bruce gently rested his head on top of yours, cementing the sentiment and leaving another rush of warmth burning in your chest.

It was hard to fill the silence with anything else. Save maybe for the things you couldn’t say. After a beat, you found the safest question and gave it a voice:

“How- Um… How was your day?” the pathetic quiver shook your vocal cords.

Before you could give yourself a moment to marinate in shame while listening to his answer, Bruce carefully extracted himself from your embrace and stood up. Upon your questioning look, he murmured:

“One sec” already moving towards the ensuite, he kept speaking, “Selina asked to meet up with me, so I went to see her… She’s left the city, actually” you stared as Bruce entered the room a few seconds later, clutching a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads.

It took another three seconds for his words to sink in and for you to understand them. What it meant and how it made you feel. Strange. Conflicted. Fucking confused, among others. The attempts at words got stuck in your throat when Bruce sat next to you on the duvet and wordlessly prepared the make-up remover, waiting for you to tip your chin forward. Your body moved before you told it to, closing the gap yet again. He did not hesitate before leaning in to begin wiping off the mess from your face with a look of pure concentration.

It felt strange to be under his scrutiny, mindful of all the different issues you could catalogue on your face. Of all the ways Bruce could find you lacking. Not enough compared with someone like her.

“Oh… okay,” remembering that it was your turn to speak, you blurted out the only question you desperately needed to be answered, “You didn’t want to go with her?”

There. Your heart lying in his open palm, ready to be crushed. Not for the first time since you had met.

Bruce took his time, meticulously wiping off the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes, his gaze never straying from your face. You did not dare think about what he must have seen there.

“No, of course not” cutting through the uncertainty, Bruce offered a reply that gave no room for interpretation, at once meeting your worried look with a ready explanation, “I spent too much time fighting for Gotham just to leave it on a whim” he swallowed hard as if finally caught by the doubts, clearly debating whether what he wanted to say next should be spoken; then, he made up his mind “Plus, it was never like that between us” the meaningful look was impossible to miss, as was the unspoken implication of what he meant; the combination was enough to fortify the blush on your cheeks  “She’s glad you’re fine after what happened. And that you’re staying too,”

The final comment was another surprise, spiking your heart rate to a faster beat. Because it suggested one thing you did not consider – Bruce talked with Selina about you. That you were important enough to be a conversation topic. Selina took her time to think about what she witnessed.

And that Bruce wasn’t going to leave. You still had time, for better or worse. Using the tidbit of information as your needed courage inspiration, you reached your hand to his, curling your fingers around his wrist. Just to keep him close.

“Are you? Happy I’m staying?” the thin band of skin-to-skin contact offered the push you needed to ask what you wanted.

The second most important matter after Bruce staying in Gotham.

Bruce used the final clean cotton wipe to erase the dried-up coats of foundation from the bridge of your nose and lowered his hands, freeing your face. His blue eyes stayed right where they were, sometimes meeting yours, at other times fixed on your mouth. Enough so to wreak havoc in your head and heart. At last, Bruce’s lips quirked into a small smile, his other hand coming down to cover yours, still encircling his wrist. The light pressure of his touch was enough to ground you, making the wait for his answer seem bearable.

“More than I know how to express” even with the anticipation, his reply took you by surprise, making you gasp as you were suddenly too bashful to look him in the eye; and for a good reason, “The meeting with Selina made me think about some things and…” you glanced up, the breath caught in your throat as you watched Bruce ponder something again; it was impossible to tell where it was leading “Before you, I was never brave enough to want. The feeling was there, the desires and the needs, but I never gave in to them. Slowly, I learnt how to repress it and shove it so far down that I almost thought I’m resistant” oh; your head flew back up fast enough to make your spine crack, head unable to comprehend the meaning without getting overwhelmed, only to find Bruce staring right back; his blue eyes sure and firm in their unwavering belief “Then you happened” oh.

The confession felt important. Crucial in its significance, like nothing else before it. Tangible like the pressure of his hand over yours and the heat of his body across the narrow space. Terrifying like the depths of feelings in your heart and head. You did not know what made him say it. Caught speechless by the admission, you could only whisper:

“Sorry,” shyly biting into your lower lip until Bruce tugged it free.

Your tender skin was burning from his touch. Thousand more apologies for turning his life on its head died on your tongue as you felt the familiar tension rise. Suddenly it was hard to find reasons why you should not close that gap. Why you should not keep touching him, giving whatever he wanted from you. The resolution was waiting in the wings for you to take the plunge whenever you were ready.

“I never said it’s a bad thing” Bruce’s smile only brightened as he brushed away your foolish apology while his fingers drifted downwards to trail over the skin of your neck, “Just that sometimes it’s difficult to stop myself from reaching for what I want” there was an implication in his voice, a pointer towards what he was too scared to say.

Perhaps the heat of his touch sparking the fire in your veins made you decide. Reach for the opening he created and take what he was offering. It was not difficult to breach the gap and take hold of his hand to drag it down, pressing his palm to your chest, right over the heart. Taking pleasure in the hungry look in his eyes, you leaned in close to whisper:

“You don’t have to stop” keeping your gaze locked onto his mouth, you added, “Not with me” then, with the both of you suspended millimetres away from the kiss that you could already feel, you posed the question, “What do you want, Bruce?”

Hoping he would get the message that whatever was about to happen had to be his request. Only then could you let go of the uncertainty and fear ruling your head. The heart was kept hostage. Bruce let out a shuddered breath, fanning your parted lips with a wisp of air. His nose nudged yours as he struggled to look you in the eye before replying:

“You” his free hand wandered down to touch your hip as Bruce leaned against you, slowly pushing you down onto the mattress, “Everything. I-”

Too scared to let him speak, you closed his mouth with a kiss, finally closing the gap. Releasing your heart from the captivity of the mind. Sealing your fate with a careful caress of your lips over his. Taking Bruce’s broken gasp and pulling him further into the embrace so that he had no choice but to surrender. Cover your body with his, enveloping your shaking bones with the warmth you have craved. That kiss was meant to be slow and direct in its meaning. You knew he understood when you broke the contact with a quiet whimper, your eyes roaming over his stunned features. The blown-out pupils and reddened lips drew your attention like magnets and made it so much easier to find the necessary words:

“You can have everything,” swallowing past the unspeakable, you met his gaze with vulnerability, “Please,” now there was nothing to hide.

He had it all, waiting for his move. The troubled blue eyes searched yours for a beat as if looking for uncertainty he expected to follow your admission.

“Are- are you sure?” the hesitant question confirmed your suspicions but was contested by his seemingly unconscious touch.

Fingers running down the slope of your thigh, now hitched over his hip to keep him in place. Adding fuel to the fire and distracting your mind from anything else but Bruce. Even with the fog steadily rising, his question was ridiculous. Without wasting time speaking, you used the empty hand to grab his shirt and pull him down to meet your lips. Again.

Only, this time, you did not idle, instantly opening your mouth and prodding his open with your curious tongue. Swiping against his tongue in a well-practised dance, exploring the inside of his mouth. All the moves were familiar; all elicited a gasp, a tightening hand touching your hip. All increased the temperature till all you wanted to do was make sure Bruce took off his clothes soon. So you could touch him how you wanted to.

Motivated by the thought, you broke the kiss and leaned back far enough to huff out a question:

“Was that good enough for you?” making sure to throw a cheeky smile, you admired the blush blooming upon his cheeks.

The kiss did what you needed it to. Bruce smiled back, the last tint of uncertainty vanishing from his face as you cupped his cheek. Fingertips tracing the sharp cheekbones and the fading bruises. He was beautiful. A fact that still sometimes astonished you after years of hearing about Bruce Wayne and seeing grainy photographs in the paper and online. Along with the idea that one day you would be this close to him. Close enough to touch and tear your heart apart in the process.

Ignoring the melancholy that threatened to steal the moment from your hands, you swept your thumb over Bruce’s bottom lip. Drawing both of you back in. Shaking himself awake, Bruce’s hand ventured up from your hip to trace the hem of your shirt and then dove underneath. Warm fingers skating over your skin, helping the chills settle in and raise the goosebumps. His attentive eyes watched you, noticing every shiver you tried to fight off. Pondering the mystery of what was going to happen next. One thing was clear – this time Bruce had it all figured out. He knew exactly how to get you to the edge of insanity. And then beyond.

Once he leaned in, slowly making his path from the corner of your mouth to your neck with pecks, you knew it was over. With each carefully laid peck, your body trembled. Each ignited a fire in your veins only Bruce could smother. Your hand tightened its hold over his shoulder; legs immediately accommodated to fit his body in the cradle of your thighs. Heart hammering between your ribs, begging to be listened to. To keep him like this forever.

Nosing at your pulse point, Bruce licked the spot, making your hips buck to meet his as if on autopilot. Making you gasp and mutter a curse that never quite got its voice. Only for him to sink his teeth in a shallow bite. Enough for your body to jerk upright, a pathetic breathless moan slipping through the gritted teeth. Enough for you to dig your nails into his arm and bunch up the shirt to find his bare skin. Trace the scars and the outline of muscles. You already felt like you were losing your mind. As if summoned by your hazy thoughts, Bruce concluded his exploration with a final teasing kiss over your collarbone and raised his head to ask:

“Can I?” the enigmatic question was easily explained by his tentative hand tracing the hem of your shirt.

Asking to give him what was already his. You appreciated the thoughtfulness. But there was one condition you had to voice before you gave in.

“Only if you take this off too” tugging at his t-shirt, you whispered out the pitiful wish, “I really want to touch you” a wave of shame threatened to rise, but it never got anywhere.

Not with the way Bruce looked at you after the admission. His lips stretched into a soft smile. Eyes awed and sparkling like rarely before. As if what you said was something he had been aching to hear.

Without another word, Bruce kissed your forehead before getting up on his knees to pull off the shirt in one move. You never saw quite where he threw the clothing. It did not matter that you already saw him like this many times before. Nor that now, after the few harrowing days, his torso was littered with an array of bruises and cuts. Your hand darted out as if controlled with a mind of its own, only just managing to graze the skin of his abdomen. The dark hair trail disappearing into the waistline of his trousers drew your attention like it always did. A simple touch earned you a full-body shiver quickly masked with an outstretched hand, inviting you to join him.

You did not waste a second to get up on your knees and close that awful gap. To meet Bruce’s gaze with bravery you did not feel and take off your shirt. Feeling the drafty air over your naked skin, you moved to cover up, but he stopped you with a firm grip on the forearm. Blue eyes locked stares with yours, ceasing all the chatter running through your brain. Till it was just Bruce. His reassuring touch, running up your arms to trace the bra straps and a silent question you knew he was asking. With the staccato in your chest, you nodded. Just once. Already feeling the rush of blood to your head. It all felt different. More profound. As if every action mattered.

The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. Despite the ridiculous fears, you nodded and watched with bated breath as Bruce carefully lowered both straps and reached around your back to undo the clasp. Another rush of cold air could be only partially blamed for the shiver that wrecked your frame when the bra slipped down. Leaving your torso bare under Bruce’s watchful gaze. His fingertips skated over your tender skin, slowly circling the dark pink areolas and making you gasp. But it was not enough to shut up the brain. Your hand darted out to stop his meticulous study with a grasp around the wrist. His head snapped back up. An instant crease between the eyebrows brought a flush of softness to your heart.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce’s question made you wince.

You could not tell him. Couldn’t-

“Nothing,” the reply was automatic, your tongue falling into the familiar pattern to make up the word, hoping it would be enough to fool him. It wasn’t. You knew it as soon as you saw his brow twitch with disbelief, soothing circles traced into your upper arm acting as a further reason to let it all spill out, “I’m just… feeling weirdly shy, I guess” it was hard to meet his eyes.

Yet the crux of the issue had been laid out. It fell between you, disappearing into the weighted silence. You knew it made no sense. That Bruce had already seen you. Hell, he’s seen so much more. Still. The head did not want to listen to reason. The once hopeful dreams of getting lost in him tonight already seemed improbable. Because how does one get lost when the head and the heart are still in it?

“Why?” another question brought your back to the scene, his measured voice quickly becoming the lifeline you needed.

The string pulling you back from the spiral and forcing you to talk how you probably should have at the beginning. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw the depth of understanding in his gaze. And no judgement or ire. Almost as if, for Bruce, nothing would change no matter what you said next. Almost as if- No. He’d never. You ignored the idea before it could spread like a disease. Instead, you steeled your spine and gathered the courage to answer his question. To reveal a fraction of the truth, as he deserved.

“Because it matters how you see me” your eyes turned glossy as they focused on his face.

It was more than accurate. An admission long overdue. Somehow you could tell Bruce knew that. His hands cupped your face between his palms in a tender hold. Thumbs softly stroke your cheeks as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead before speaking:

“Then there’s no need to worry” his nose brushed against yours in a gentle caress, letting the whisper carry his words through the narrow space between you, “You’re perfect” his gaze flickered from your eyes to your mouth, but it was easy to miss.

Christ. You wanted to say something else. To protest, ask him how he can tell when you are the only woman he has ever been with. But it would not do. Your heart would never let you. No, it already took the compliment and ran with it, thrashing in your chest like a caged bird. There was nothing you could do.

Nothing, but throw your arms around his neck and dive in for a kiss. Bruce was waiting for you, opening his mouth under yours as soon as you pressed your lips against his. Not willing to waste time already running out, you let your tongue dart out. Swirling it around his and then sucking, enough to make him gasp and pull you closer. His arms enveloped your body, somehow making everything seem fine. Complete, even. You kissed him till there was barely any oxygen left, and you had to separate, eagerly exchanging pecks as you both caught your breath. His taste had filled your mouth, getting rid of the salty tint of tears and the bitterness of coffee. Everything was just Bruce. Like always.

Without thinking, you lowered your head to press another kiss to his chin and then below, tracing the slope of his throat with careful pecks. Bruce’s grip tightened over your waist as a broken groan reverberated through his chest. You could almost feel the sound in your bones. The thought rushed through your body like a bolt of lightning, venturing down between your thighs to a spot you had tried your hardest to ignore. But no longer could. Your core throbbed with the persistent desire as wetness spilt onto the gusset of your panties. You did not have to search your heart to know what you wanted.

That need made you bold enough to swipe your tongue in a broad stroke over Bruce’s throat. Collecting the low moan, he let out with satisfaction. As you sunk your teeth into a shallow bite over his pulse point, the feeling grew tenfold inspired by the noises that Bruce could not to stop. As if you were driving him insane. Leaning back to study your work, you knew the mark on his skin would stay. That it would be something he could remember you by, no matter what came after.

Before you could dive back in to continue, Bruce hooked his fingers under your chin to gently make you raise your head and look at him. So you could see the flushed cheeks and swollen lips parted to let out strained breaths. Following a will of their own, your eyes flicked to his waist and then below, checking whether he was just as affected as you were. What you found only made the frenzy worse. As did his words, accompanied by deliberate touch running along the waistline of your trousers:

“I want to taste you,” Bruce leaned in close, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

But you hardly registered it, brain caught up on what he said. Because that… that was quite something. Something you never expected to hear from him. The surprise must have painted across your face, your gaping mouth left open and eyes staring at him for too long. Until your brain thawed enough for you to speak (or stutter):

“Christ… Bruce, you can’t say things like- Okay, yeah” the string of words made only a little sense, but you compensated with a stupid grin and a hasty nod; the anticipatory shiver already coursing through your body as you met his gaze to add, “A sensible lady never says no that” your lips curled into a smirk, gleefully taking note of his mirroring smile, only then it was time for a check in “Do you really want to?” your hand run up his chest to curl around his shoulder.

Feeling the warmth of his skin and the promise of what he offered. But you could not just let him do it. That would have been too selfish. Even if Bruce seemed pretty convinced. The hunger in his eyes stole your breath as he took your verbal consent and hooked his fingers under the waistline of your trousers. Never straying from your gaze, he gave the reply:

“Yes,” his new confidence could easily be your outdoing.

But it could have also been the unceremonial way he pushed you down onto the bed, your body hitting the mattress with a quiet thud. A confirmation enough for the last of your worries.

“Okay,” a nervous giggle broke out from your chest as you watched him lean over you, those blue eyes darker than usual “Blow my mind, sweetheart” there were no doubts in your mind that he was capable.

It was proven as soon as Bruce finished undressing you, the quick work perfected with his lingering touch had you breathing shallowly. The feeling grew once you were lying naked before him, with nothing but the soaked panties to save you from his intense gaze. From the heat of his eyes, caressing what was already familiar. Tracing the paths his hands would soon follow. Unable to withstand the scrutiny much longer, you reached up to get him close, capturing his mouth with a kiss Bruce had long anticipated. He opened his lips underneath yours without a second wasted while letting his hands venture down your stomach, short fingernails emblazoning your tender skin. Before you knew it, he had tugged down your underwear, leaving you bare. The strange shyness had breached the surface again as you broke the kiss with a gasp and met his gaze with wide eyes. Silently asking for mercy.

One quick kiss and a nod had to be enough for you as Bruce gave your nose a playful nudge, his hand delving between your thighs without another warning. Your body shuddered upon his touch, cheeks turning scarlet once you realised how wet you were. Bruce’s surprise was evident in the slight hitch in his breathing, almost disguised by an inhale.

Your slick covered his fingers to the knuckles as he meticulously learnt to play you how you needed. At first, only stroking your clit with a feather-like touch, then circling your entrance, spreading your arousal, and making your thighs shake. It was already bad. And it could only get worse. For your dignity, that is. Sweat pearled on your forehead as you watched Bruce lower himself down your body, placing pecks along your abdomen. He settled between your thighs, the muscles on his back flexing under the skin in the faint light of the bedroom. As if unconsciously acting on his instincts, Bruce pressed a kiss to the inside of your left thigh, quickly following it with another one on the right thigh. Both kisses burned your skin like a hot poker. The sensation culminated in the apex of your thighs, in the frustrating throbbing you could hardly ignore anymore. But you did not have to.

Bruce met your gaze, seeking consent for the final time. With no words found, save for the ones you could never tell out loud, you nodded, impatiently brushing away the stray strands of hair that fell into your eyes. You wanted to see him. That first glimpse of Bruce diving between your legs with his head bowed was reason enough. As was the way his hands curled around your thighs, keeping them apart and spread. Leaving you exposed and shaking with want. All the faintest doubts disappeared when his tongue touched your clit in a kitten stroke. Your body jerked upright, kept in place only with Bruce’s steel grip. He repeated the move, drawing out a moan you could not hold in. Setting your blood on fire. Christ. A thousand curses and endearments rose in your throat but were desperately stifled by your waning self-control. You knew it would not last long.

The first blow came with Bruce’s skilful tongue circling your clit, learning all the different ways to make you tremble. He was a good listener, taking all the cues you were leaving and changing his technique to fit your needs. Searching for grounding, you sank your fingers in his hair and pulled. Bruce did not seem to mind, briefly stopping his feast to press a lingering kiss on your thigh. His fingers traced circles onto your skin, soothing the fevered flesh. The unbidden confessions showed up again, choking you with ferocity. Bruce was the one to save you, letting his tongue delve inside you in an exploratory move. One that made your hips buck into his face and tore a shout from your mouth.

Desire shot through your body like a bolt of lightning, bringing a delirious grin onto your face. It was quickly wiped clean as Bruce continued licking into you with passion you never expected from him. Utterly devoted to the task and focused on driving you crazy. A coil tightened in your lower belly, making it much harder to shut up. Making you squirm and trash under his hold. When he interrupted the relentless penetration with a flick of his tongue over your clit, you could not keep quiet.

“God, you- You’re so good” panting out the sentence that barely made sense, you highlighted the sentiment with a sharper tug on his hair.

Making Bruce groan into your core, the sound pushing you down the slippery slope with no way back. From then on, it was only a question of when you would break. Your body burned under his attention. Each point of contact felt like a flame scorching your flesh. Your heart hammered between your ribs, overwhelmed with the multitude of feelings. Pleasure rose and rose until all you could do was gasp his name between moans. Till your head was empty of everything but Bruce. Until the tension snapped, and an explosion filled your vision with white.

“I’m- Fuck,” the curse substituted any words you could have intended to say, but it was enough.

Bruce knew, his hands gripped your legs harder as if to ground you moments before. You came with his name on your lips and your hand gripping his hair. Your core squeezed around his prodding tongue wave after wave as Bruce lapped at your arousal without hesitation. Your thighs trapped his head between them, but he did not seem to mind, helping you ride the aftershocks with patience. As you came to, feeling your body go limp with a sigh, Bruce took his time earnestly licking at your folds. Collecting every drop as if he was hooked already on the taste. You did not dare dwell on that thought too long.

Instead, you searched for his hand to squeeze his palm. He understood the signal, instantly raising his head to find your gaze. You knew the look in your eyes could only be described as wild, with the pupils blown out large. But staring into his darkened blue stare, the realization did not hurt quite so much. His lips and chin were shiny from your arousal; the discovery of the fact sent a shiver down your spine. Bruce took hold of your hand to return the squeeze while his lips stretched into a confident smile. An incredibly attractive look, you had to admit.

“So… I take it, I did good,” emphasizing the word, Bruce smirked, his eyes twinkling.

Despite the embarrassment at what you said, you could not stop the chuckle. The fondness in your heart made its way to your gaze as you attempted a one-sided shrug.

“You broke me” that was an understatement.

But it only made his grin brighter. Without breaking the eye contact Bruce swept his tongue over his lower lip. Collecting the droplets of your come and crawling up to meet you on the bed. There was no mercy for the wicked.

“I can tell” his eyes roamed over your face affectionately, making you want to hide from his attention.

But you chose to meet it straight on, raising your head just enough to capture his lips in a kiss. Only to instantly groan into his mouth when you tasted yourself on his tongue. Bruce’s embrace tightened around your arms as he gathered you into his chest, carefully laying down next to you. And never breaking the kiss that stretched and evolved to fit your needs. Going from hectic and eager to languid. From chaotic to deliberate, and lasting till you were both out of breath, panting against each other’s mouth, unwilling to separate. You made sure you were sufficiently curled against his warm body before you leaned back to put some space and find his gaze again.

The blue eyes were never disappointing, instantly setting your body on fire with the tenderness you found in them. It felt good to be like this with Bruce, able to let go of the fears and inhibitions. Able to give in to the love you could feel coursing in your bloodstream every second you had spent with Bruce. Because even if he did not reciprocate, the memories would still be there. After. Whatever that meant. After you fucked it and told him, probably. With the aching heart beating in your chest and the creeping dread threatening to tear the moment away from you, the hesitant question placed itself on the tip of your tongue:

“Was it how you imagined?” with your eyes trained on his face, you knew when Bruce caught the meaning.

His flushed cheeks turned redder as his arms tightened around your waist, nose nuzzling into your head to buy him some time. And hide from your curious gaze. Bruce Wayne was adorable, and you had no idea what to do with the fact.

“Better,” his reply came in the form of a rushed word and was followed by an admission you almost thought you had misheard, “Think I’m already addicted to you” he raised his head again to meet your eyes.

It was impossible to get rid of the lovesick look on your face as your body shivered with anticipation. That something was still in the air. The tension that assured you Bruce was eager to take another step. You did not have to search your heart and mind to know you wanted it too. Right here and now. No matter the consequences. You knew there was a high chance you would regret it later. But that did not matter now.

Carefully, you placed your hand over his heart, splaying the palm on his chest and replied:

“That’s my line” taking a deep breath to take the plunge, you added, “I- I want you,” your voice wavered, but the revelation could not have been surer.

The sudden shyness was still concerning, rendering you nearly useless with how it had tied your tongue into knots. But with Bruce, those three words were enough. His eyes darkened almost instantly, a hitch in the breath disguised by a kiss pressed to your temple. It was easy to tell what it meant, encouraging you to trail your hand down the broad planes of his chest and stomach. Eliciting another gasp, this time masked with a tentative question:

“Are you sure?” the irony of his asking did not escape you.

The last time it had been you that asked, a thousand times or more, just to ascertain he would not regret it. To be assured that Bruce wanted to give you that crucial part of himself. A gift no one had given you before. Not quite like that. But now, after everything, you appreciated that he checked. Even though you never needed him to.

“Perfectly” you found his eyes to show him the smile on your face while your hand skated lower still, brushing over his abdomen and the trail of hair disappearing into the waistband.

But you did not stop there, letting your fingertips touch his zipper in what you hoped was a smooth enough suggestion. It worked if the way Bruce grabbed your hand was anything to go by. You shot him a questioning glance, waiting for that telling nod to work his belt undone. Once you had it, his eyes dark and hungry, you did not waste time tugging his trousers and boxers down his legs and throwing them somewhere onto the floor. The longer you hesitated, the more likely it would be for your head or heart to catch up. Intervene in what was supposed to be just sex. No strings attached. Or so you liked to tell yourself.

Only when neither of you could hide behind fabric or pretence, the noises in your head grew quiet again. The room was silent as your eyes trailed over his naked body, consuming all the details you had almost forgotten. Though it had only been days. Like the constellation of moles on his hip or the exact markings of his multiple scars. Like the fading bruises, which were all new to your eyes. Like the feel of his hand running over your hip and thigh, drawing you in for a kiss.

You went willingly, melting into his touch and making sure every inch of your body touched his. With your leg in between his, arms thrown around his waist and mouth sealed in a kiss. A kiss that went on for minutes, which felt like hours. An eternity of your tongues sliding against each other’s and tracing the insides of your mouths. Imprinting the taste of him in your mind forever. Slowly, your hands continued exploration, reaching down to touch his length. Carefully yet firmly enough to elicit a groan from his lips and break the kiss. Encouraged by the reaction, you circled his shaft with your hand, putting pressure and making Bruce gasp. It felt powerful.

Bruce met your gaze with dark, hungry eyes, wasting no time to delve a hand between your thighs and spread your arousal over your folds. All for an act of retaliation that had you cursing under your breath. All to make sure you were ready for him. Without stopping your ministrations, you settled to lie on your back, silently extending an invitation. Bruce took it with your name on his lips and his hands on your waist. He shifted to hover over you, knees resting in the cradle of your thighs. The staccato of your heartbeat thumped between your ribs as you laced your hands on the nape of his neck and met his gaze. Nodding once more to assure the both of you. That it was alright. It was what you wanted. Even if it already felt like a mistake.

Bruce entered you with a gasp falling from his lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. You exhaled sharply upon the stretch, body instantly accommodating the feel of him. Your legs opened wider, knees coming up to rest over his hips. It was simple, a primal instinct taking over as you looked him in the eyes and let him know it was okay to move. You could only hope that the pain in your heart would ease. That you could ignore it.

At first, it was easy. You did not let your eyes stray from Bruce, noting every expression that flitting across his face. The awe, the pleasure, and the need. Your fingers tangled into his hair while the other hand sought purchase on his shoulder. Feeling the heat radiating from him and warming every cell of your body. Bruce built up a rhythm, thrusting into you with ease and care. Now and then, he leaned in to kiss you, consuming your lips with his. You tried focusing on it, on the delicious friction and the feel of him inside you. On the closeness and the touch. On the familiarity of his kisses, the pressure of his mouth against yours. But it was not enough. Your heart still felt as if it was being torn apart.

With a moan, you hoisted your legs to cross them over his back, bucking your hips into his. Pleasure erupted underneath your eyelids as he hit the spot that made you cry out his name. Bruce’s only answer was a guttural groan reverberating through your joined bodies. Adding to the urgency building between you. To the need to have it faster and sooner and now. You repeated the move, following that instinct. Soon enough, you had Bruce where you wanted him – gasping and panting; his eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

The pressure in your abdomen rose, making your moans louder. Making you rake your fingernails over his back, breaking the skin and marking Bruce as yours. Only he wasn’t. He wasn’t yours. He could never be yours.

Later you wondered what the reason was. What made you break and shatter like glass. Whether it was how Bruce suddenly opened his eyes and looked at you. His gaze full of affection and admiration you did not deserve and never could live up to. Or his gentle touch, caressing the expanse of your thigh. Or the feel of his breath against your gasping mouth, offering kisses you could not claim without risking too much. Or how he whispered your name, the syllables filled with reverence and devotion. Or maybe it was the constant beating of your heart, spelling out the confessions you could never tell him. Blinding you to the pleasure building in your body.

Before you caught up and understood what was happening, it was done. Tears pooled in your eyes and spilt down your cheeks, tinting your swollen lips with salt. A whimper got caught in your throat, fracturing the moment in a second. You never had the time to hide.

As if in slow motion, you could see when Bruce noticed. His body stilled, eyes widening as his forehead scrunched up with concern. His palm returned to your cheek, rendering it impossible to escape his gaze. The heart thrashed in your chest as you scrapped your mind for words, excuses, anything at all. By the time Bruce asked the question, you came up empty:

“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?” the worry in his voice felt like a knife to your bleeding heart; you tried turning your head into the pillow, but he did not let you, “Hey, don’t-” you’ve had enough, pressing your palm to his mouth, shutting him up.

At last, your brain found what was needed.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine” the lie fell with practised ease as you slipped on the mask you had tried on many times before; it was just another role, another part to play, “I’m good, Bruce. I promise” forcing a saccharine smile, you moved your palm to caress his face “Don’t stop, please” to strengthen the act, you tightened the muscles in your thighs, caging him within your hold.

Praying to every god you had ever heard of that Bruce would listen. That the tears could dry on your face, and he would push you over the precipice. Help you lose yourself in him and the pleasure. Because you could never explain it. Did not dare to try.

“But you’re-” the conflicted look in his eyes was still there, staining every word with unease.

Ripping your heart into shreds. But there was no other way. There was no universe where you could tell him the truth. No world where you could come clean, whisper those three cursed words, and have this. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you. So, you turned to what you knew best. Desperate to have this night, even if it would be the last one. Impatiently, you wiped the tears off your face and hooked your fingers under his chin, bringing Bruce closer. His mouth an inch away from yours, hot breath fanning your lips:

“I need you like this,” your eyes revealed the despair you no longer tried to hide, “I need you to fuck me so I can forget everything else” as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew why it felt wrong.

It was a dirty trick, an appeal to the side Bruce did not yet have under control. But it was the only one you knew would work. And it had to work.

His gasp and the way he twitched inside you confirmed you were right. But nothing eased the bitterness coating your tongue. Not the way Bruce squeezed you tighter, his swallowed curse buried in the heated kiss you did not deny him. When his tongue swept over yours, you wondered whether he could taste your anguish.

Bruce broke the contact too soon, searching your face for any signs of the truths you had been hiding. All for nothing. Pressing your forehead to his, you whispered the final word of encouragement:

“Please” you met his gaze, aware of your glassy eyes and the pain in your tone.

Bruce only nodded and kissed your forehead, resuming the steady rocking of his hips into yours. Almost as if nothing happened at all. Almost. Your inner walls involuntarily clenched around him, drawing out another groan. Making the throbbing between your thighs prominent again. Just like before. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you latched onto his arms, thrusting up to meet his hips with increasing speed. The desire pooled in your veins, making you bite his shoulder. Resulting in a loud moan, which only spurred you on.

Trading bites like kisses along his neck and throat till Bruce was panting above you. His hips stuttered and twitched in what you knew were tell-tale signs he was close. You were not that far behind, freeing one of your hands to find your clit between your bodies. Desperate to follow him.

Your movement made Bruce look up, his eyes instantly finding yours. You should have always known that would be your downfall. How he looked at you, his gaze filled with a myriad of feelings, some indescribable and impossible to identify. That same unknowable emotion there, like many times before. That tenderness and affection that bruised your heart each time. This one was not any different.

The heart thumped in your chest, the pulse in your ears drowning out thoughts and fears till all you could hear were the moans and sighs neither of you held back. Till unbidden words slipped through your tight control.

“Make me yours. I want to be yours” only when they were out, whispered in between whimpers, you realised what you just said.

What it meant. And prayed Bruce did not hear it. Please.

There was no time to dwell on it, for as soon as the words left your mouth Bruce’s hips stuttered. His tempo waned, forcing you to act. To take over the rhythm and buck your hips till you could feel him tense up. Till it was enough. His lips opened with a breathless moan as he came inside you with a sharp gasp, his head hiding in the crook of your neck. Bruce’s body shook in your hold as he rode the high, never once stopping to chant your name into your skin.

With his arms around you still, it was easy to let go. Let yourself fall, knowing Bruce was there to catch you. For once, you weren’t alone. The sensation of his teeth biting into the sensitive skin underneath your ear pushed you over the precipice. Your vision darkened, a sharp cry piercing the silence as your steel grip bruised his bicep. Your tense muscles uncoiled at once as the orgasm coursed through your body, twitching in the aftershocks. You had been burnt to cinder. Ruined for anyone else. Forever.

Unable to move, you sagged into the mattress, eyes closed to stop yourself from doing something stupid. Or stupider than you’ve already done. Faintly, you could feel a reassuring touch running over your arms and waist, lulling the anxieties and fears. Fooling you into the promise of safety. But the mirage was better than the hard truth and the cruel reality. You took a deep breath to steady your heart and opened your eyes.

Only to find Bruce gazing back at you with concern. On its own accord, your hand rose to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows. Before you could drop it again, he pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist. He rolled off your body, putting inches of space between you as he settled on his side.

“Everything alright?” his question brought you back into the moment, anchoring your mind in the present.

The tinge of relief at the lack of mention of your slip-up was unmistakable. But so was the gratitude you felt upon check-in. A step Bruce could have ignored after everything you had put him through. Especially tonight. Your throat suddenly felt dry. You went too far, didn’t you?

“Yeah. Yes,” swallowing hard, you hoped the guilt could be wiped off your face, “You’ve just kinda blown my mind” a half-hearted shrug and a weak smile were all you could manage.

It was not surprising to see a flash of distrust in Bruce’s eyes as they scanned your face for any signs of lies. You were too good at pretending for him to find anything solid. But he knew you well enough to tell something was off. After a beat, he gave up, meeting your gaze with a smirk of his own:

“You asked me to” the confidence in his voice was still there, now, perhaps even stronger.

Because – yes. You asked, and he delivered, and now you knew, for a fact, that Bruce Wayne was an avid learner. Which somehow made everything harder. Like not falling for him further. If that was even possible.

You did not talk much after. With your refusal to delve into any part of what happened, and Bruce’s inability to persuade you to talk, it was easier to stay silent. As if on autopilot, you pressed a final kiss to his lips and got up, wordlessly heading to the ensuite. To hide and marinate in misery for as long as you could without it being even more suspicious. Avoiding the mirror, you got dressed in a set of sweats and cleaned your face.

The unknown of what you would find back in your room terrified you the most. Because there was no guarantee Bruce would still be there. You did not discuss it, easily letting the awkwardness consume you both. But the hope was still there. The hope that he would stay. Even if just this once.

When you had hand-combed your hair and checked at least twenty times whether there were no signs of the war you were waging in your head, you exited the bathroom. Your eyes darted across the room, drawn to the bed where you had last seen him. Bruce was still there, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back turned to you. Your heart thumped in your chest, relieved and overwhelmed at once. Bruce waiting on you was just a part of the predicament. The other was that now you had to ask for what you needed.

The creaking floorboards gave away your presence as Bruce glanced at you over his shoulder. He was still shirtless, his back littered with moles, scars, and red lines from where you had scratched him. The discovery brought an instant blush to your cheeks as you silently stared back. The impasse was broken by Bruce’s timid smile, warming up your heart and stifling the fears. If he was still around, it meant that it would be okay. Right?

In a split second, you decided that the only way of finding out was to ask him. No matter how terrifying that seemed. Steeling your spine upon his searching look, you whispered the question:

“Can you stay with me?” fully aware of the tremble in your voice and the shaking in your hands, clasped together tightly.

Aware of the vulnerability you were showing, on top of the rollercoaster of emotions you had dragged him through the past hour. But there was no annoyance on Bruce’s face. An invisible weight lifted off your shoulders as you watched him nod, following the gesture with a reply:

“I was hoping you’d ask” it was that same soft tone which had captured your heart at the very beginning.

Almost as gentle as the look in his eyes, willingly offering the truth you did not expect to hear. Not after everything. Frozen with the dazed smile on your lips, you only moved when Bruce got up from the bed and crossed the space to you. His hand reached out to squeeze your palms as he leaned in to kiss your temple. Without another word, he disappeared into the bathroom. But there were no regrets or uncertainties this time. He would stay. It would be okay.

At least until the morning.

***

Later, when she was long asleep, quiet snores breaking the silence in the room, Bruce was still awake. He watched her chest rise and fall with every breath. Her head was cushioned on his shoulder as if it belonged there. There was only a slight twinge of guilt in his heart when he tightened the hold over her body, drawing her closer. Because god only knew how long that would last. Because if there was one thing the evening taught him, it was that she still was lost within the prison of her own making. Unwilling to believe it was real. That this was real. She was still looking for a reason to run. And he had no way of proving her wrong.

But Bruce wanted to try. Even if it would all be in vain.

He stared at her peaceful face, bathed in the faint moonlight peeking through the hastily drawn curtains, feeling the steady beat of her heart. There was only one thought circling in his head like a vulture. She was wrong. And she had to know. Bruce turned his head towards hers, instantly feeling her burrow her head into the crook of his neck. Still asleep. An uncertain smile bloomed on his face as he whispered:

“I told you there would never be anybody else,”

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

[Warnings: cussing, planning to manipulate, bullies, harassment, that's pretty much it]

(A/n: Sorry, I've been inactive, but now im gonna write on this blog. Im just gonna write invader zim shit and other stuff made by that creator.)

"Hey y/n, i got a dare for you!" One of the dumb popular girls yelled out loud to you at the lunch table.

"What is it. Im all ears!" You yelled back. Not wanting to look like a coward to your friends you agreed to it.

"I dare you to hook up with a cringe lame ass boy in this school and then break their heart after." She said confidence running through her.

"Sure, anymore details?" You asked, not gonna lie you wished you hadn't agreed. That's fucking mean. Who would even think of that.

"Ok so. Heres the plan, you get with a boy at this school. Make them fall in love with you. Then ask them out to the dance next month, and right when they announce king and queen were going to dump shit all over him then take pictures. Then after were going to post it on every single social media platform there is." The dumb girl said with a mean glint in her eye.

This made you think for a second. This was cruel. Mean. Why would you have fun doing this. But, you dont want to look like a coward to your popular friends.

The dumb girl smirked and looked around the cafeteria. She had looked for a bit and gasped with her eyes widening. She then went by you and whispered in your ear. "I know who you're going to prank."

"Oooo, who will i be pranking then?" You said with a fake smirk on your face.

.

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"Dib membrane."

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Dib membrane?! The kid believes in aliens and ghosts and paranormal shit. The kid that is the son of the professor membrane! Sure, nobody really liked him. BUT, of all people, the son of Professor Membrane! Does this girl want you to die in real life? What would happen if he gets pranked tells his father, and then his father fires your dad from working there. Then you would have no money. Your mom and dad would lose your home, and then you would be homeless. Then you would be-

"EARTH TO Y/N! Hello! Earth to y/n!!!!"

"Huh, wha-"

"So, you want to prank him or not?" The mean girl spoke with pure venom in her voice.

This was bad. You should have said no. You should have just not skipped detention. You looked at the mean girl and then sighed.

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"When do i start?"

It was the end of the day, and everyone was leaving the "hi-skool." You planned on finding Dib at his Locker, then walk home with him. You live in the same exact neighborhood he does. You're basically his neighbor. But guilt filled your gut. This was gonna be mean. But you have to. Dont look like a coward, is what you say to yourself all the time now.

Going around the corner in the hallway, you see Dib at his locker fidgeting with something. You slowly walk up to him. He didn't even realize you were there until you cleared your throat.

He looked up to you in surprise. His eyes widened a bit in shock that a popular girl was right there by him.

You finally got to see his full face. He had his signature round glasses on, but he has piercings in his ears. Some pimples hear and there. You also noticed that he painted his fingernails black.

"Hey, there!" You said with a big grin. Trying to be the most welcoming you have ever been. But, he just stared at you in confusion.

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"Hey....?"

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Woah, you forgot that Dib is maturing. Since when did his voice not sound like a kid anymore?! You asked yourself in your thoughts. Of course, you guys were in the 12th grade. But like damn.

"Isn't your name Dib?" You said, pouting your lips out to look cute. And then, using your fingers to fidget with your long h/c that was tied up in a high pony tail.

He looked at you like you were crazy. "Yea..?" He said, confused, then he grabbed his books and shoved them in his backpack, and started to walk off.

This made you panic. Was he not into you?! You had to think and fast before he left the school.

He stared at you and said; "Look if you're trying to make fun of me, just dont ok. I know your little popular group of fake friends is around here somewhere!"

"Uh, so! What are you doing after school?" You asked, running up to him and starting to walk with him.

Actually, none of your friends were here they were at cheer practice. "Nooo, i just wanted to know what you were doing after school." You said, still fidgeting with your hair. Plus, all of my friends are at cheer practice"

He gave you a skeptical look. But, sighed. "I was going to go home." He said with slight annoyance, stirring in his voice.

"Oooo, me too. We live in the same neighborhood, we can walk together!" You said smiling again and then grabbing your purse strap.

You could tell Dib didn't want to walk with you. But, luckily, gaz walked with Dib, so he didn't talk much, nor did Gaz. But you had a trick up your sleeve.

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"Hey, is that a piggy slave game?"

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Gaz eyes widened in shock. "You know the piggy slave games?" She asked in all honesty.

"I sure do. I have 'piggy of destruction 1' and 'piggy of slaves 2' AND 'piggy of the bacon clan 3'.-" you looked around to see if anyone was listening."-i even have the 'ultimate piggy slave'."

Gaz face turned in surprise. The ultimate piggy slave was so rare to have.

Meanwhile, you and Gaz were talking. Dib was staring at you in suspension again. 'One of the popular girls is here trying to talk to Gaz and me. This is definitely Zim's doing.' Dib thought to himself.

"So, Dib, what's ya got there?" You asked, going right beside him and looking at the weird device in his hands. It looked like a controller that would control a remote car. But it had a scanner on the front, and it kept beeping. Weird symbols that you didn't recognize popped up on the little rectangle green-ish screen.

"Oh, u-uh. It's a ghost reader. It can detect ghosts and spirits. Most of the time." Dib said in a teaching tone. He was suspicious of yours, but he would never miss a moment to teach someone about the paranormal, let alone give him their attention.....

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"WOW, that's cool!" You said, looking at the device with a big grin. Dib was shocked. He was ready for a smart ass remark. Or a "ghosts aren't real."

"R-really?" Dib said in shock. "You mean it?"

"Well, duh, of course. I've seen them." To this statement, Dib eyes widened, and he went right in your face and said.

"YOU HAVE?!" After that, Dib was barbonding you with questions. 'How old were you?' And 'what did it look like?' And 'were was it at?', Ect.

You thought it would be hard for him to open up to you and actually talk to you, but you thought wrong because now you have his number and Gaz. You made a mental note later to text him.

The walk to your guys neighborhood was short from Dib talking and rambling.

After walking with them up to their home. You stopped at the fence.

"Well, that was fun. I will see you guys tomorrow?" After a pause, you saw them nodding. "Well, then goodbye, Gaz! Goodbye Dib~." You said, making sure the Dib part sounded flirtatious. You could see a pink dust fall gently on his cheeks as you turned and walked along the sidewalk to your house.

Hopefully, you could get this done before the dance.

[hopefulromances]

maybe kind of angsty? but "Opening up about trauma/past negative experiences", i've been thinking about how jamie would react with the other person also having an alcoholic / abusive parent, if he would "relax" because they can identify with his experience, or would he recoil because of his own trauma

TW: Talk of abuse, drunkness, angst

You stared at your phone. The voicemail notification was taunting you. It was a call from a number you hadn't heard from in a long time, one you thought you'd never hear from again. Knowing Jamie would be home in a few minutes, you wanted to get this over with before he got him. He didn't need to deal with this, he already had enough going on in his life.

Hestitantly, you pressed play on the voicemail.

"Hi (Y/N), it's your mum. I know we haven't talked in a while and I understand why. I just... I wanted you to know that I've been going to meetings and working on getting better. I've heard about you and you're doing... god, you're doing so well, darling. I just want to talk. Give me a call back. Love you."

You hadn't realized you were crying until a splash of a teardrop hit the phone. It'd been years. Years since the argument that sent you fleeing from her house, vowing never to talk to her again.

"Babe?" Jamie's voice surprised you by how close he was. How long had he been in the room? Had he heard the voice mail? You frantically started to get up, wiping at your tears to try and hide them.

"Hey, Jamie!" You walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "How was training?"

You tried to walk past him but he grabbed you by your arms and forced you to stay in front of him. "Are you crying?"

You let out a fake laugh. "What? No! No, just my allergies you know how I get."

He stared at you. Damn this man. He could see right through you. You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry anymore.

"I just... I got a call from my mum," you explained, looking down.

"Your mum?" he echoed, cocking his head. You didn't talk much about your mother. Bad memories.

"Yeah... she... she wants to see me," you said lamely. "And I haven't seen her in probably ten years."

A few minutes later you were sitting at the kitchen table with Jamie bringing you a cup of your favorite tea. He sat across from you giving you space but still having his hand on the table for you to grab if need be.

"The last time I saw my mom... she was drunk. Growing up, since my dad died, she was always drunk. But I learned how to manage. But this one day, I was... 15 I think? I just snapped. I was tired of it. Of her.. ridicule, telling me I wasn't pretty like she was when she was my age. That I was a slut everytime I tried to leave the house. How I wouldn't amount to anything."

You closed your eyes, remembering the insults that she'd hurled at me. A jealous mother, wishing she could be her child. "So I left, and I never looked back. And now she's calling me. Telling me she's changed that she wants to see me, and I dont... I don't know what to do."

Jamie stared at you as he tried to understand his own emotions. His own father had managed to slither his way back into his life once he got famous and squeeze him for every good thing he had. No way he was going to let someone do that to the woman he loved. He scooched his chair over, awkwardly loudly, so he was sitting next to you.

Hesitantly, he brought his arm around you and as soon as you felt him, you buried yourself in him.

"Whatever you do or don't do. If you want to see her, great, if not, also great. I'm here. I'll make sure she doesn't hurt you." He told you firmly, keeping you wrapped up in his arms. "I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again.

[solei-eclipse]

i know that i migjt (really) late to this, but im so sorry about the way you’ve been feeling :(. i understand what its like to slowly not love or just not fixate on smth you used to, and im sure you already know this from other people, but you are cared about!!!

I know we aren’t really friends or anything, but you’ve been a huge apsiration or like huge role model to me ever since i became active (and perhaps i did become active at a chance to maybe be friends)

im really glad that your still here and active, and even if uou do decide to leave alnst fandom permanently or stay on hiatus or whatever you decide to do, I (and many others) will continue to support you!!!

I hope you get better and ill support you through whatever you choose to do from the sidelines!!!!

(i dont have anything to gift so heres a picture of my plush readinf jekyll and hyde. sorry if its lame i just dont really have a lot in my gallery 😭)

HEY!! HELLO!!

We are friends to me!! Sorry if that's weird or too forward, but I consider basically everyone in s39/s40 to be a friend. I hope that's alright? I'm really fond of everyone, even if we barely interact! Just seeing you on the dash is enough to make me smile :)

Thank you so much! I honestly wasn't expecting so much kindness, but I'm so grateful to be gifted it nothenless. You're all such wonderful people. I really appreciate the fact that you took time to write up a message... it means a lot to me! It always does

Ahhhgghhh it's so sweet of you to see me that way! And also a little embarrassing! I'm a horrible role model haha but I'd genuinely like to thank you for everything, your efforts in being active and the lovely presence you've developed here. I'm pretty sure we have you to thank for the conception of season 40! It's been a blast so far, and I adore every single thing that's come out of it. Thank you :)

It means so much to me that you'd still stick around even when I become tired and less active. Really, I appreciate it so much more than you'd think. I'll support you from the sidelines, too! And I hope you're well! If you're not, I hope you get better no matter how slowly. Wishing the best for you always !!! <3

Thank you. Thank you again and again and again for being so sweet and wonderful. It's such a joy and gift to be here and create with you.

YOUR PLUSH IS READING JEKYLL AND HYDE.... NOT LAME AT ALL! That is a well-read and incredibly articulate individual you have right there. I hope the little silly enjoys the book.... Thank you for the adorable image :D

In turn, here's a Mizi that my little sister drew!

[azzo0]

Baked With Love.

The following is a snippet from Always.

Summary: Bakugo helps her bake with a little bit of teasing.

Yoshiko washed her hands in the kitchen sink while Bakugo beat up eggs for rolled-up omelettes. She wiped her hands with a towel and walked up beside him. "Want help?"

"I dont need help, fuck off if you want to eat."

"Y'know, I'm not trying to strike your precious ego here. Just speedin' up things."

"Yeah, standing there will speed things up." He glared at her.

"Well, tell me what to do."

"Get the miso soup out of the fridge and heat it."

"Ask nicely."

"I thought you wanted to fucking help??"

Yoshiko blew him an air kiss, making his eye twitch. She opened the fridge and found the pot of miso soup. She took it out, peeking inside. "Hey, Bakugo-"

"Katsuki." He corrected, not looking up from the spinach leaves he was chopping to put in the eggs.

"Huh?"

"You called me Katsuki when I got shot."

"And you called me Yoshiko."

"Get a hint, bitch. I'm askin' you to use my given name. Feel honoured, brat." He said, looking up from the cutting board.

"Nah." She transferred the soup into a glass bowl. "If I call you Katsuki, you still won't call me Yoshiko."

"Yeah, you're right. Your name is lame anyways."

Yoshiko laughed, putting the bowl in the microwave. "Katsuki. There. Happy now?"

He remained silent, rolling up the eggs in the pan with chopsticks. Yoshiko faced the microwave, waiting for an answer. "Yes, Yoshiko." That warm sensation was back again when she heard her name slip so effortlessly from his lips. She stared at the bowl roasting in the oven. She didn't want to feel any of this. Why was she suddenly seeing him in a different light? Of course, she knew the answer to her question. She'd been here before.

When the oven dinged, she took the bowl out and set it on the counter. "Do we have tofu?" She asked Bakugo, who was now cutting up the omelette.

"Yeah, in the fridge. Last shelf."

Yoshiko nodded and took the tofu out, slicing a few pieces to put inside after separating the soup into two smaller bowls. Bear came into the kitchen, sitting expectantly by Yoshiko's heels. Yoshiko cut a few small pieces for him and put them in his eating bowl.

"Oi, I'm done here." Bakugo said.

"Okay, the soup's done as well," Yoshiko said, taking a seat on one of the high stools by the counter.

Bakugo sat across from her, and the two began eating in silence. It felt nice working out together and then having breakfast while everyone was busy snoring. Bakugo liked it because it felt like he had her entirely to himself during that time.

"Damn, this soup is good," Yoshiko said after taking a sip.

"Duh, 'cause I'm the one who made it." He said, taking a sip from his own bowl.

"Maybe you can help me bake."

"What?"

"It's Hitoshi's birthday in two days." She explained. "And I want to bake him a cake, but I never baked before. So I was thinking of baking cupcakes today, so I got some idea on how to get around stuff. I don't want to burn it."

"I'm not helpin'."

"What, why not?!"

"I 'aint got the time to bake some silly cupcakes. Besides, I don't bake either."

"But you and Sato baked cookies the other day!" Yoshiko reminded.

"I just happened to be there when that idiot was in the kitchen, and I didn't want him to make a mess."

"Sato's a professional. He cleans up after he's done. You just don't want to help me."

"Damn right," Bakugo smirked.

"Fuck you." Yoshiko flipped him off. "I'll just ask Sato to help me inst-"

"Fucking fine, I'll help you." Bakugo groaned. "But your ass better not annoy me, or I'm ditching you."

"Aren't you the sweetest?" Yoshiko sniggered.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡

"So, what kind of cupcakes do you want to bake?" Bakugo sighed after he put out the utensils they would need.

"Chocolate."

"Okay..." Bakugo opened Sato's baking book since he didn't know the recipe by heart. "Crack an egg into the bowl." He dictated, elbow on the counter as he watched her pick up the egg. She tapped it against the bowl, spilling its contents out of the bowl.

"Oops,"

"Oops, my ass!" Bakugo yelled, pushing her aside. He grabbed a few tissue papers and cleaned her mess. "Don't you know how to crack a damn egg?!" He lightly tapped another egg against the bowl and perfectly cracked it open.

"My bad, Gordon Ramsay."

"Shut up and add the milk." Yoshiko peeked at the recipe, checking how much milk she'd need and poured the milk into the bowl.

"Okay, add the rest of the wet ingredients." He watched her measure out the quantities and pour them into the bowl. It almost felt like he was babysitting a toddler that wanted to bake.

"I'm done," Yoshiko said.

"Okay, whisk it up."

Yoshiko held the beater, holding it in between closed fingers like she was going to stab someone with it. She poked it into the bowl and slowly moved it back and forth.

"Bitch, that's not how you beat the batter." Bakugo frowned, pinching his nose. He snatched the bowl and whisk from her, showing her the right way to beat it.

"Okay, now for the dry ingredients." He held the book up again and dictated the ingredients out for her to measure and put in another bowl. At least her dumb brain knew how to measure ingredients. "Now gently mix the stuff up." He held his breath as she combined the dry ingredients, letting it out when she didn't spill anything.

"Now, just pour the wet ingredients into the dry." He said, handing her a spatula.

"Okay." She took the spatula from him, transferring the wet ingredients into the dry ones. "Now mix it up. Don't fucking spill anything."

"I know, I know. Stop being so bossy." She rolled her eyes, beating the mixtures together. Bakugo's eye twitched as he watched her whisk the batter with the speed of a turtle.

"For fucks sake, you're so damn slow." He stood behind her and brought the bowl closer to her stomach, putting his hands on top of hers while she still held the bowl and whisk. Yoshiko's breath hitched as she felt his warmth creep into her back, catching his sweet caramel smell with a hint of cologne. His lecture on how to beat the batter properly fell on deaf ears as she was too busy blushing and processing the position she was in.

"Got it now?" He asked, gaining her attention again, letting her hands go.

"Huh- y-yeah. I got it."

"You just fucking stuttered."

"Your ears are not working." She defended, quickly beating the batter up, glad he couldn't see her face.

"I'm sure they are," Bakugo muttered under his breath, still standing behind and watching over her shoulder.

Once the batter was done, Yoshiko put the cupcake liners inside the cupcake moulds and let Bakugo transfer the batter into them. He sighed and went to put the spatula in the sink when Yoshiko snatched it from him. "Are you really going to waste all that sweet goodness?" Yoshiko said, wiping the batter off it with a finger and licking it. Bakugo rolled his eyes at her and adjusted the heating, popping the tray into the oven.

Yoshiko kept the spatula in the sink and gathered the dirty utensils to wash. Bakugo joined her, drying the dishes as she handed them to him. Once done, they dried their hands, walking over to the oven to see the cupcakes slowly rising.

"Heh, I'm already drooling," Yoshiko said.

"Of course." Bakugo snorted, glancing down at her. She had a little batter under her lip. He put a knuckle under her chin, making her face him and taking her by surprise. His thumb brushed under her lip, and he slowly brought it to his lips to lick it all while he locked eyes with her.

Yoshiko's lips parted in shock, a wild blush blooming from her face to her neck down. The AUDACITY this guy had. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Mm, not bad." He said, looking at the oven again.

"You-" Yoshiko began, unsure of what to say. Bakugo looked at her again, smirking when he saw her flustered.

"What?" He tilted his head.

"You fucking idiot."

"Aw, are you blushing?" He inched his face closer. For a split second, he saw her eyes dart down to his lips and back at his eyes again. Oh, God, that made him want to kiss her.

Yoshiko gulped, looking into his dangerously close crimson eyes. She could feel her pulse in her neck, her heart pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears. For the first time, she found Bakugo intimidating. That shitty look on his face was daring her to back away so he could win this silent game they were playing.

Since when did their challenges become this flirty?

"I hope you break your arm again." She growled at him, inching even closer just to make him back away. He did not back away.

"The feeling is mutual, darling." He purred.

"So- uh, what are you guys making?" Yoshiko heard Shinsou's voice, her head immediately snapping to her side to see him awkwardly standing there. She quickly moved away from Bakugo, her face heating up even more.

"We? We're just baking cupcakes! They're almost done." Her voice came out louder than she wanted it to. It was like she lost controll over herself.

"Uhuh..."

"Really. We were just discussing how much time we need to keep them inside. Right, Katsuki?"

"Totally," Bakugo smirked at her. Yoshiko wanted to punch his nose so bad because through that smirk he was telling her that he won.

"Katsuki?" Shinsou raised an eyebrow.

"Uh- yeah..." Yoshiko trailed off, looking down at the floor.

"Interesting. So when are these cupcakes going to be done?" Shinsou asked. Oh, he was going to have fun teasing her later.

"Ten minutes, I guess." She said, glancing at the timer. She stepped away from Bakugo, not looking at either of their eyes. She hung her apron behind the door. "I'm going to take a shower. Take a cupcake once they're done."

"Okay," Shinsou replied, watching her leave the kitchen. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, his eyes narrowed at Bakugo.

"The fuck you lookin' at, eye bags?" Bakugo scowled.

"She's my best friend," Shinsou said.

"Yeah, not shit."

"Hurt her, and I'll break your neck." Shinsou threatened, voice low.

"Hah? I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"Consider it a warning." Shinsou shrugged. "The last guy who broke her heart got his nose broken by me. But she doesn't need to know that, aye?"

"I'm not her shitty ex," Bakugo snarled. "Besides, I'm the stronger one."

"Pretty sure I could brainwash you, given you can keep your mouth shut," Shinso smirked.

"Shut the fuck up."

The oven dinged, and Bakugo took the cupcakes out while Shinsou made himself coffee. Once the cupcakes were cool enough, Bakugo took them out of the mould. Shinsou took one, taking a bite of the warm cupcake.

"These taste like they were baked with love." He teased.

"I will kill you."

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[ifuckinghaterobertsmirke]

ROBERT SMIRKE??

stupid goddamn idiot motherfucking ROBERT SMIRKE fucked up building making dust chewing old ass BASTARD MAN avatar of the UGLY not a clown but the entire fucking circus of a man cringe munching greekaboo motherfucking ROBERT SMIRKE

please please please mention him to me so I can fucking GO OFF about how much I hate ROBERT SMIRKE why does he have so many fucked up buildings?? Why did he design them like that? Why are they so fucking ugly and lame????? He's dead and I'm so fucking GLAD that he is that I'm making his death date an international global holiday. WHY is he making so many fictional fucked up buildings I dont even know why I hate his guts so much I just fucking do OH WAIT it must have something to do with the fucking HORRORS he keeps creating who designs a parthenon in the middle of london?? Do you think it looks cool?? Buddy you're just stealing Greek designs like England steals artifacts. It's stupid and lame and dumb and YOURE dumb. Your buildings are the equivalent of a teenage weaboo making shitty Naruto OCs from a How To Draw Like An Anime book except WORSE cause your being paid and you should DO BETTER I hate this guy soooooo much

if I wanted to get into heaven and god said robert smirke was waiting inside I would charge in to drag us both down to hell where I could be his personal torture demon

if he gets an old ye olde timey statement and have to hear jon mimic his voice in person on voice in podcast I'm gonna buy a ticket to england, find his grave and then piss on it

he'd BETTER have a fucking good reason for deciding that the House of Leaves was A Good Idea Actually or else I'm gonna go HAm. He'd BETTER have gone insane after witnessing the horrorsTM. If he's just some oldass rich british dude who thought building the unholy lovechild of hp lovecraft and ikea was a great way to capitalism I'm going to find a way into the podcast and bitchslap him with the building code.

Motherfucker is out here committing so many osha violations. Imagine me making a BDG style video where I go over every single violation his spooky buildings have and note how many billions of dollars (with inflation) he owes the British government AND me for personally offending my basic rights. And thatd be fine except we cant categorise doors to Your Worst Fear now can we????

Man makes MC Esher drawings look like Cool Places To Live guy thought the Backrooms were a good idea id kill him if he wasnt already long dead irl

*** I do be mid season 2, no spoilies in the replies please!! frustratingly vague comments encouraged though!