#anyways catch me popping up on tumblr after like a year just to talk about more flanagan shows

[iloveschiaparelli]

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes: My Love Letter Part 1

Okay okay okay SO Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes longpost time just my whole opinion/analysis/love letter for the whole film beginning with my Wes Ball backstory so skip to the Ruin screencap if you want to skim past all that.

I haven't talked about it on tumblr yet but I'm actually like a huge fat fan of the Maze Runner cinematic series directed by Wes Ball. Really I'm just a fan of Wes Ball. It not only singlehandedly got me through my first year of high school but also became the reason I ended up entering the film industry. I've watched all 3 movies at least 4-5 times each. Probably like 20-30 for Scorch Trials at this point because it's my favorite. I can quote probably at least half of it from memory. I've watched all of the BTS content that was on the DVDs + the bloopers on youtube like i was obsessed ok.

2019 was like the second worst year of my life so imagine my distress in january 2019 when I found out about Wes Ball's next movie, Mouse Guard, got Super Hyped Up for the multimillion dollar mice-with-swords movie (I eventually read some of the comics btw it's insanely good) And then within the same week found out Disney pulled the plug on the project after acquiring 20th Century Fox. TWO weeks before production was scheduled to begin. I was livid. I'm still bitter about it. Wes Ball then released the demo reel for the film to the public which iirc also had temp music.

So anyway yeah that was awful but then! I think it was later in 2020 that it was announced that Wes Ball was going to be directing the 4th POTA movie. This kicked off me seeing the original 1968 film and then the trilogy and wow did doing so increase my excitement. In my opinion Rupert Wyatt/Matt Reeves' directing styles and Wes Ball's were/are very compatible. I also took the time to get caught up on as much of Wes Ball's old projects as I could get my hands on at the time, including his animated short Ruin (screencap below). Which is fantastic BTW and apparently was purchased by Fox for a feature film that was never made (???) I swear, filmmakers have their past works splattered all over the internet like body parts after a landmine explosion: Good luck finding everything.

Now, Finally Finally FINALLY!!!!!!!! Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is out. I meant to see it on the premier night but my boyfriend broke up with me 2 days before so I forgot. I saw it tonight instead! So now with the backstory out of the way I can finally talk about the actual movie.

First of all, the beginning of the film absolutely WOWed me!!!! It honestly feels like a callback to Ruin, the way that the buildings are overgrown and the post-apocalyptic setting is super evident and feels so delightfully reclaimed by nature. It's also really neat to see how far VFX has come since Ruin was released if you compare the opening shots of the movie with the wide shots in Ruin. Wes Ball himself is also a VFX artist, so it's really neat to see how that affects his work especially since Planet of the Apes is by nature a very vfx-heavy franchise. This movie absoutely popped off in that area but we'll get to that.

Secondly, I forgot how much I missed Ball's directing! Oh my goodness, the performances he gets out of the actors are always so authentic. I still have yet to see a performance by Dylan O'Brien that was as raw and believable as in the Maze Runner movies, and I'm like halfway through Teen Wolf already. In the action scenes especially, I love how characters in Ball's movies, you can really feel their pain. Since pain and physical discomfort aren't communicated directly through film, we often forget just how hard it is to get back up again after getting kicked down, but with Wes Ball you never forget. Ugh, when Noa was getting beat up on top of the bunker at the end of the movie, I caught myself catching my own breath when he coughed up blood. Like, yeowch!

Additionally, everything this man makes is just, like, a masterpiece? On a technical level at least. That's really the mark of a good director, whose job is not only to evoke a performance from the actors, but also to tie together the whole crew. And KOTPOTA really showed off how well the team worked together. Just the establishing shots alone in a lot of these scenes! Oh. My. Word. You can clearly see the fruits of labor of not only the concept artists, but also the VFX artists and production designers, and how they worked with the DP and actors to get the shot. Here are some examples of what I'm talking about:

There are more that I'm thinking of, but unfortunately without a digital release available yet there's a limit to the screencaps that I'm able to obtain. The shot where Noa is walking up the escalator following Raka and you see the plane in the background indicating that Raka lives in an airport is one of them. There's also one or two establishing shots in nature that just show off the setting. The opening shots, of course. And then the shot where it pans up and you see Eagle Village for the first time. There's also an aerial of Proximus Caesar's camp, but I'm unable to find that one as well. The main one I want to look at is the telescope.

Just, like, Hello???? It looks like an art piece. This screencap is a little closer in than I'd like, but in the full frame you can see the absolute mastery of composition that it is, you can totally imagine it as a painting. Which in my experiences usually means there's a painting behind it somewhere in the process, lol. Let's go concept artists!!! But then you see how the colors are just, perfectly balanced, the plant growth is realistic and accentuating the set, and so on and so forth. It was just absolutely breathtaking to see for the first time. I'm pretty sure I audibly gasped. I did a lot of stimming during this movie just to stay quiet and not start babbling about the film pipeline to my father in theater auditorium.

Even more magic happens when Noa steps onto the set, and starts messing with the telescope. Suddenly it's real, it's tangible, it's touchable. Transforming what was likely a matte painting at one point into a set that the actors can interact with, and then into a shot where almost everything is overlaid with VFX, and having it look so real like that is truly magic.

The ship also had me dumbstruck, but slightly less so because we saw a similar setting in The Maze Runner: The Death Cure in 2018. Although it was slightly different for sure. What had me going even more in this movie was how much the characters interacted with the ship, moving in and around it, and trading glances with one another from on the ground and up inside. In TMR:DTC, you really only see the decrepit ships in the background, and one is referenced as a plot point but the characters never actually physically interact with any of them. So it's much easier for our brains to categorize the ships as gimmicks to help us believe the scene.

It's when props like these are woven into the scene as tangible objects that our brains start to shut up about the CGI and really start to believe what's happening onscreen! and KOTPOTA did an amazing job at this. Please bear in mind like, I literally have zero specialization in VFX, it's not my field and although I draw, I've never done concept art for film. I honestly believe that I'm simply in an appropriate level of awe for what this film accomplished.

The other thing that amazed me was how stylized the setting was. The greenery was so green, the ocean felt like a painting, the ship was red, the telescope shot is very, very blue. Several of the shapes used in the ape's costume design are simplified. And yet, despite the stylization, it never feels cartoony or polygonal, it still feels completely grounded in reality, and I could really believe I'd see it in real life. I think this owes partly to the fact that we rarely inspect any of these simplified items at a close distance, aside from Raka's necklace which appears to be made of either bone or whittled wood. It also owes to absolute geniuses in color grading that kept the stylized colors realistic enough for our brains to believe. Overall I'd take the visual style of the film to be Impressionist. I love impressionism.

My main interest in filmmaking is writing/directing. However, most of my experience lies in costume design (Student films rarely need costume "design" so its usually coordination) and production design. As a result I spent a good deal of my time watching KOTPOTA zeroed in on the production design.

I love post-apocalyptic science-fiction/fantasy worlds like this partly precisely because of how much you can learn from the production design alone. When Mae enters Trevathan's room for the first time I swear I was eating it up. Every single prop in this movie was carefully thought out by the PD, which is why his room absolutely stood out from the rest of the setting that we had seen up to that point. It was distinctly "human-centric" as opposed to the rest of the movie. I remember seeing it in the theater earlier today, laying eyes first on the bed by the door, thinking that it must be something they set up for Mae, but then wondering why or how the apes would know or want to set up a human-style bed for Mae when we're so many generations removed from human-dominated society.

Next it was on many miscellaneous table objects, thinking to myself "That looks like how a human would treat a space. Apes are generally too big to decorate at that scale." and then my eyes roved on to the furniture, seeing a human-sized table, human-sized chair, human-sized junk everywhere! Slowly, by observing the room, I gained a stronger and stronger sense of "there is another human here," which upon observing the rows and rows of books became "a smart human like Mae, who unlike her can read" (Remember at this point we still believed that Mae and her mother were the only smart humans that Mae had known growing up, and that she had been pursuing the opportunity to meet other smart humans and join them).

It was only upon the instant of realizing that this was a smart human that Trevathan spoke and appeared on the stairs. It was absolutely perfect timing. THIS, guys, is exceptional production design. It was honestly my absolute favorite piece of production design in the entire film, especially because of how much it contrasted what we've become used to seeing in the series as humans have diminished in population and apes and nature have taken over the space instead.

That exact sense of change or "otherness", that noticeability of contrast upon seeing what is honestly a pretty "normal" human space if you look at it in the context of our existing society, is only present because of how well PD treats the rest of the movie. In order to make a completely normal space feel strange, you have to change literally every other space to something alien but consistent with itself. And KOTPOTA does just that. The job was begun in the original trilogy, with the decline of humanity depicted across decades, nature taking over the gas station and the dam and even the city. But this movie had the biggest challenge because of simply how many years had passed before the story even began. Society as we know it today is completely and totally obliviated in KOTPOTA's setting. In every set that the characters interacted with in any way, PD had to fabricate a space where humans had been but the virus, decades of decay and post-apocalyptic living, and ape encroachment had transformed it.

This also brings me into the subject of the rich culture we see emerging in the world of the apes through this movie. The original trilogy, especially the first and second film, was all about the ape's identity. In the first film Caesar wonders whether he is human or ape, and whether apes are pets or equals to humans. He eventually comes to the realization that humans are never going to look out for apes the way that apes will and decides to become that person. In the second film, Caesar and the other characters involved have to figure out what being an ape means. Does it mean strength is power? That humans are always an enemy to defeated? Or a similar species to live alongside? It's about establishing what the ape race's relationship is to the human race. The third film I didn't get to rewatch before seeing KOTPOTA, but iirc it was about whether humans and apes could ever coexist, which is a theme we see continued in this movie, albeit in a slightly different way. Either that or more likely it was about whether apes will repeat the same mistakes as humans.

Anyway, I digress. In the script we already see a rich culture emerging in hints, right from the start of the movie. It's in the hunt for the eagle eggs at the beginning with mentions of some kind of coming-of-age ceremony, followed by Noa reminding Anaya and Soona that they must "leave one egg always. It is the law." Already in the first five minutes we've established that this particular ape civilization not only has cultural traditions surrounding youth and coming-of-age, but also rituals and laws surrounding their relationship with and the conservation of nature. And through dialogue we extrapolate that these apes have bonded animals (eagles). It honestly felt like a crossover between Native American Indian hunting practices and How To Train Your Dragon, which is wild I know. (Also can we talk about how the eagles in this movie actually made eagle sounds???? And not falcon sounds! Finally we're breaking the bad habit of making up animal noises to sound cooler when the original already sounded super cool by itself.)

So in just a few minutes guys!! We already have so much. Then the trio heads back to the village and has their first encounter with the Echoes (Ekos? If anyone could get spelling on that for me that would be fantastic) but are too afraid (or law-bound) to get too close to or cross through the tunnel "into the valley below". So through these we establish that there is a taboo around not just humans but also around leaving the village. The clan has taken an isolationist approach wherein they not only forbid their young clan members from leaving but also withhold information about the outsiders from them until they've come of age. Guys the cultural system arising here is absolutely wild. Like sorry not sorry but I eat this stuff up. (Screenwriters-- this is prime example material of "show don't tell")

There's also all of the ape social communication rules that we've already gotten used to, mainly a variation of the palm-up/palm-down gesture as a means of showing respect (submission) and asking for permission/approval.

In this movie however the hands are mostly closed and the palms are down for the sub as well as the ape they're seeking approval from, as opposed to the trilogy in which the submitting ape always had their palm up. At first I chalked this up to cultural differences among clans since we learned that this clan is not the clan descended from Caesar's apes in the trilogy, but then Caesar's descendants were doing it this way too? So I don't really know what to make of it but I'm going to decide that it's just global cultural evolution (at least, as global as the real-world evolution of Old English into modern English).

Through the production design of the beginning sequence in Eagle Village, we see that the eagles catch fish and then the vast quantities of fish and the smokehouse indicate that fish caught by the eagles are the main source of food for the Eagle Clan. We also see feathers as a motif throughout, worn especially by the parents and the elders as a sign of social status (we know it's social status bc Sylva rips it off of one of the elders as an intimidation tactic and everyone audibly gasps, indicating it worked). That last bit is honestly more costume design, they popped off too but one thing at a time or I'm going to become incomprehensible. I will repeat myself. It is inevitable.

Then throughout the film we learn that not only do they adhere strictly to the "law", but that that law is set by the elders alone. We also learn that they primarily relate to their eagles by singing to them which!!! is just!!!! so!!! metal!!! I love it. The way it plays into the end scene with Proximus just AGHRGHJHRHGR GROWL BARK BARK FERAL NOISES>

ahem

Also we see them building nests at home for their eagles and they've figured out falconry tools for the aerie and everything on their own like??

Then in contrast we see what's left of Caesar's clan, it's descendants. Proximus Caesar, we learn later from Trevathan, has gone completely fangirl over the ancient roman empire and decided to emulate it because "he likes it" and it makes him "feel good" (yeah he's probably the most textbook tyrant I've ever seen in media), choosing to morph Caesar's teachings into his own new worldview rather than adhering to them properly.

So the culture of Caesar's clan is very heavily roman-influenced, often copying practices outright such as the insitution of slavery, a lot of the fashion choices and even the way that banners are put up around the camp and the way that Proximus dines at a low-set table filled with an overabundance of food. And he has a throne and crown, and there are roman numerals inscribed on both his and Sylva's necklaces. But we still see influences of Caesar's original society, most noticeably the persistence of the window symbol and the architecture of the dam. The architecture wouldn't be significant at all, instead being noted as a stylistic choice for the whole series, if it weren't for the fact that it's different from Eagle Clan's architecture.

If Eagle Village resembles those spaghetti bridges that engineers build for class, with thatched roofs, then the dam at Caesar Clan's camp is much more brutalist by comparison. Eagle Clan was very spindly and focused on height and lightness of building materials: many of the logs were thinner and longer, more spaced out, and sometimes rounded at the ends. By contrast, Caesar Clan's dam is built with stumpier logs, closer together, and spiked at the top. The dam is also shored up with soil and other materials. Which yeah, is typical of beaver dams but is also typical of the structures in the original Caesar's village in the trilogy.

Unfortunately, there's only one image currently available of Eagle Village and it's after it was burned down. But you can still see how it differs from Caesar's village, instead of being chaotic it's more organized, allowing for a more lightweight structure.

This (below) is the closest I could get to having a picture of the dam's architecture, but you can still tell how it's more similar to OG Caesar's architecture than it is to Eagle Clan's, even though it's using a completely different building material (scrap metal instead of hewn trees).

Eagle Clan's architecture is also a further effect of how their society revolves around making a life bond with eagles, which are flying creatures. So of course they would be inclined to taller structures, especially ones that are more lightweight and have structural patterns, imitating the way that birds are built (see above).

I'll continue in part 2 as a reblog because it's 1 am and I'm running out of steam but YALL I need you to understand: It's been 6 years since the last time I had a Wes Ball film to overanalyze and rave about. I have SO MUCH to say about this film.

[joyswonderland1108]

I'm.. Confused?

Okay i will be completely honest here, i rarely very rarely watch any content that isn't purely BTS when it comes to, well.. BTS. So when it's something about Bang PD talking about BTS sometimes i only catch snippets on my tl and i end up watching it very later solely because there was a mention of BTS.

Now this popped up on my TL because someone qt tweeted it, i'm not sure about what this interview was all about, i still didn't watch it, i don't have the whole context but anygays :

(My Tumblr isn't giving me a preview of the post so i'm linking the ss of the post anyways)

After i've been sitting here reading this over and over again, reading comments and quotes i was like.. If this is real, well it most probably is since i didn't see anyone correcting OP yet on the take, just how many times were BTS lied to, gaslighted up until this day about things they are doing..

And if you think about it it's actually pretty scary, imagine being manipulated into thinking you are not doing good enough and you need to do this and that to be able to achieve XYZ goal that you have, but at what cost? How do we even know that those "motivations" aren't backed up by a selfish desire of seeing BTS grow just for the financial gain the company gets from that? How do you even know that the way they are being led won't strip away what the members themselves wanted to achieve by choosing a path that was wrongfully introduced to them?

I don't know if i'm making sense here and i hate how people are quick to call BTS company's puppets when shit like that is being talked about, but honestly? Personally if i've been working under someone who is supposed to be a leader helping me, someone who so far through years has been a person i've looked up to, respected and trusted to seek advise from to continue to push for my dreams, just for them to end up being liars about the advise they gave me, because maybe the most crucial part of my dream was never going to be fulfilled following the advise i was given, maybe the advise helped me grow and through me that person was able to grow as well leaving the part i might've been in desperate need from the start..

I feel like i'm still not making any sense, i also don't know how much i should rely on a single post and comments and qts backing it up but as i said, if it's all true, if it's all not just some misunderstanding of some sort, then goddamn it's really scary!!! I wouldn't want to imagine our boys trusting someone enough to see their advise as something precious they might feel it should be considered, they make them believe that they are given full freedom to chose while maybe even the choices that are out there presented to them are still not on a wider scale presenting a potential to reach what they were made to believe would make them achieve what they want for the future.

Many artists don't only seek the artistry recognition, some people want or NEED a recognition on different aspects including who they are too as a person not just as an artists, but the mere thought that this can be stripped away from an artist just by using this gaslighting tactics.. *Sigh*

I'm rambling, i don't know i just poured all the thoughts that came to my mind after reading that. All i ever want is for our boys to be happy with their career, their artistry, their creativity, their professional and personal lives, i just want them to find comfort in both and always feel no type of restriction or barrier out there for them to reach the peak of their happiness..

[dumbasshivemind]

Two warnings: a bit of spoilers for the first like 5% of Fallout Equestria, and me being critical about it

So I've started to read FoE cuz it's been recommended at and around me for years and it's a pretty famous fandom classic. I heard it earned its Mature rating and that it tackled some heavy topics, plus being pretty graphic with stuff, which turns off some people from reading it, but I came in with expectations set for that and so far what I've read (up to right after they take Velvet from the slaver town on the train) there's been nothing too shocking.

However, Tragically, it is mid. Which like in hindsight it makes sense, this was the best fic around at the time because it was being compared to My Little Dashie and being read by people who love Fallout. I know it's been 11 years since it finished but I need to get my opinion out and I can't tell this to the people that recommended it to me so it goes into the 'blr (that's what I call my Tumblr blog. I hope it catches on because it's really clever)

Anyways, the stuff that annoys me:

1- it's clearly a fallout fic first, pony fic a far second. Both in the literal content (it's mostly a fallout thing with pony paint) and in the vibes (the way injuries and guns and violence in general works is very much following game logic)

2- it has good parts that make the mid parts very annoying. The thunderstorm scene made me yearn for a far better fic about mostly that, someone that has lived their whole life in a bunker going out and learning about life in the wasteland.

3- when velvet is on screen she follows pony logic (a bit warped cuz it's an M fic, but still! Very much cares about her own liberty and about helping the ill and injured, and does not feel comfortable around violence and guns) this would be a good thing, but the rest of the fic doesn't so she just feels incredibly out of place and kinda shattered my suspension of disbelief- If she's uncomfortable, what the fuck is going on with little pip???? Velvet was the one that chose to leave, and she's been out for longer!!!

4- the writing isn't that good. Moment-to-moment it's fine, but some parts are needlessly contrived (like how the radio just so happened to talk about where velvet was when pip was near it, when her just asking around would've had the exact same effect without contrivance....), badly paced (mostly the terminal entries. TWICE already has one of them just popped in during a time-sensitive moment and it is. Jarring), or just could use some editing (like how Pip TELLS us how she got her cutie mark and how it made her feel, and what the thingiemajigs are and how they work- stuff that could've been shown, or at least put into context better)

5- I already said this but it's so much a Fallout fic, it utterly assumes you both already know what everything is, and that you care. So far the only piece of worldbuilding I actually liked was the Derpy ghoul (tho the fic insists on calling her Ditzy Doo because it was the style at the time)

Anyways thanks for reading my rant about Fallout: Equestria I hope you think it's reasonable and understandable. Don't forget to like comment and subscribe

[captain-hawks]

i'm sitting at the airport terminal in the middle of the night and something wild just happened to me and my first thought was "is this miya twin coded?" so i popped over here because 1. you're one of my absolute favorites. 2. i was just re-reading your kita piece for all the glorious emotional smut. and 3. you also <3 the miyas. please excuse me as i process this.

in senior year high school i went to a weekend-long statewide competition and met these twins in the elevator. one of them definitely had more swagger, more teasing confidence (the kind that guys who are usually successful with ladies have) and the other one was a little quieter, seemed a bit more sincere even though he talked less. we hit it off in conversation and they asked me and my friend if we wanted to grab food with them. i wasn't entirely sure but i thought maybe they were flirting? i was pretty sheltered up until that point and didn't want to assume incorrectly. towards the end of the comp the quieter twin asked if he could come visit me in my city and i, confused, asked "why??" spoiler alert: i ended up dating him for ~2 years.

i found out early on in our relationship that after our "casual dinner" that night when they got back to their room, Swag twin wanted to try his luck and see if he could get with me, but Quiet twin said that he would FIGHT HIM because Quiet really liked me and genuinely wanted to ask me out and he said he wouldn't let his brother ruin that by trying to hook up. Swag was apparently used to usually getting his way, so he realized how serious Quiet was to threaten to beat his ass so i guess he backed off. I didn't find this out until after Quiet and i started seriously talking/dating.

I went out of state for college but we maintained the LDR until halfway through my sophomore year. classic breakup reasons: growing pains/long distance was taking its toll/i wanted to explore life. but we remained on good terms and consider each other friends! we rarely talk, but he still let me use his netflix login for the past 11 years. when he was moving into a corporate role a couple years ago i helped him with interview prep, and when i was looking for a new job he sent me reqs he thought were a good fit.

he's had at least a couple relationships in the near-decade since we broke up (we don't talk about dating but i had seen on social media at some point). i've dated and had a few situationships and am now in a 4 year relationship with my bf. however, he most definitely doesn't know this because we don't chat often, i'm rarely on socials these days and my bf is a very private person.

i'm so sorry for how long this has been. all of this context is to say...i am chilling in the airport on my way home and I GOT A CONFESSION FROM QUIET?? something about i'm the one that got away, he feels he'd won the lottery by meeting me and having me in his life, he referenced the fight he had with his brother all those years ago and said he'd fight the same fight TO THIS DAY. i am flummoxed. i think it is a sign from the great spaghetti monster in the sky that i need to log off tumblr because my very first thought was "what in the fanfiction trope is this?" does this shit actually happen irl? now i need to go deal with this.

anyways thank you for reading this if you got this far! idk if it's just because it's twins and their dynamic is vaguely similar to osamu and atsumu but i was like...have i been isekai'ed into a miya twin fanfic? the sleep deprivation may be catching up to me and i may be entirely unhinged idk

first of all, ily and i’m so flattered you thought of me and ran over here to share this story. i literally read this while brushing my teeth because i was running late for work this morning, but i was so invested i had to read the whole message before i left.

anyway, EXCUSE ME????? i actually can’t get over this. how does it feel to have lived in a real life miya twins fanfic? are you taking interviews at this time? HE SAID HE WOULD FIGHT!!!! HIM? THE ATSUMU/OSAMU DYNAMICS i cannot believe. somewhere an author is on their knees (it’s me, the author). AND NOW THE CONFESSION???? OVER A DECADE LATER? i almost choked on my toothpaste. (i feel like there’s also irony to be found in the inherently symbolic nature of getting that message in such a transitionary, liminal space like an airport in the middle of the night.)

nonnie, i hope you have safe travels home and can get some much-deserved rest after that absolute bombshell. if there ever happens to be a future update or footnote to this story………..you know where to find me.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #117

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

He's gonna be Frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, this is The Frank Program. I’m Frank -”

“- and I’m Big Mike. Today’s guest is the most popular streamer on all of Twitch.TV, here in the studio we have Mr. Hellspawn!”

“How’s it going?” Hellspawn spoke softly into his microphone.

“Uh…” Frank shuffled through his notes, which Mike had prepared for him. “Wasn’t I supposed to ask you that?”

Mike patted him on the back. “Don’t worry about that, Frankie. Anyway, Mr. Hellspawn, why don’t you tell us a little about what you do for the listeners who aren’t aware?”

“Sure thing, Mike. My job is a little hard to explain, but I’ll start at the beginning. When I first started streaming, the hot thing to do was to play videogames. People want to see other people play games because it’s a social activity, at least originally, but on Twitch, it’s different. We don’t really know each other, we’re not really friends, but instead it’s more like a substitute for that. That’s why I really blew up about four years ago. Everyone was stuck inside, nowhere to go, nothing to do. They wanted some company.”

“So, uh, what makes you special, then?” Frank asked.

“If you ask me, I think I just got lucky. But I guess people liked my specific way of interacting with the audience. I’d say, ‘chat, help me out here, should I go down this tunnel or cross this bridge?’ and, you know, they’d vote on it basically.”

“That doesn’t seem so hard to understand.”

“Sure, but now it’s a little different. Instead of mostly playing games and talking to the audience here and there, people seem not to want me to play games so much anymore. I always give them the option, but whenever I put it up to a vote, my subs just want to see me doing normal everyday stuff. I’ve got cameras set up all over my house. Game room, kitchen, bedroom…”

“Bedroom?”

“Some of my fans pay for a little extra, if you catch my drift.”

Frank’s eyes popped wide open. “You’re a prostitute?!?”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Mike chuckled nervously. “How about we don’t go there, Frank?”

Frank was indignant. “It’s a simple question!”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine, guys. It’s basically an after-dark stream that costs money to watch. I don’t have sex with anyone for money.”

Frank glared at Mike. “See? It was a good question!”

“I only get a little naked. A little. But more people like to watch me cook and just chat about life. It’s kind of meditative for me, you know? I’ve got my Hell Squad over for dinner every night. And they’re happy to send me money to keep the whole thing going. I haven’t worked a traditional job since 2019, so I can spend all my time on this. Five days a week, dawn to dusk.”

“So, tell me Mr. Hellspawn, where did you come up with that name?”

“Not a lot of people know this, but I’ve had that name since kindergarten. I was a real troublemaker as a kid, and my father would always call me Mr. Hellspawn whenever I did anything he didn’t like. I don’t really talk to him anymore, but that name has stuck with me. I wear it as a badge of honor. Barely anyone in my life calls me by my legal name… which I guess he also gave me.”

Frank looked over at the empty corner. “You… don’t talk to your father anymore?”

“No, not at all. We were never very close at the best of times. He kicked me out when I was fifteen and we haven’t spoken since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It doesn’t really bother me anymore, to be honest. He used to haunt my dreams, but… Now, I don’t think I can even remember his face.”

Frank’s hands shook. He gripped the microphone stand to keep them stationary.

Mike cleared his throat to break the dead air. “What are some of your favorite moments from your livestream?”

Hellspawn chuckled. “I think that might be when I tried making veal schnitzel from scratch. I ended up breading my hand by mistake, and the chat just kept saying, ‘glove hand! Glove hand!’ It’s become one of many inside jokes with my community.”

“And how was the schnitzel?”

“Oh, it was terrible. I had no idea what I was doing. It was like a piece of shoe leather with burnt grease on the outside. I had to order takeout.”

Frank breathed heavily. “I have to go.”

Mike was confused. “Buddy, we just got started! Do you always end your shows early?”

“I just… I can’t…”

“We can take a break -”

“No, no, no! I need to get out of here!”

“Fine! I’ll finish the damn show. I’m doing most of the work anyway. Do your closing line before you leave.”

“I… I’ve been The Frank Program. Thank you - Thank you for letting me be…” he made eye contact with Hellspawn and panicked. He quickly ran out of the studio and slammed the door.

[meera000]

Happy mother's day (late)

Graduated college this week … it's Over but also i felt so disconnected during the last semester bc i was only on campus 2x a week for 1 class, my other class was remote and i was filling credits w an internship. so it's been a soft landing. however i have cried a lot over the last 3 days.

sam called me and was like i cried for the first time in 2 years and i was like holy shit and we talked about our friends we love our friends and how we wished we had been different for a lot of the four years. personally i was just annoying as shit the first three years, but then again i might find my current self annoying next year. he was like "i wish i hadn't been so hell" which sums it up pretty much. but we've both come out of it better and with a clearer understanding of who we are and what we want. no more hell.

went to my last college party last night because i stopped going to emerson stuff. at emerson i felt like everyone thought i was a close friend — that's so not trueee. and so my friend texted me last night and was like where are you you have to come tonight. i said OK. apparently my acquaintances at emerson have started asking where i went. it has gotten to the point though where even kitty and dev my best friends will thank me for going out with them.

on that note: i don't like feeling like i am disappearing, but i am happier just keeping things quiet and close. i know who my friends are (best ppl in world), i am experiencing a healthy relationship for the first time with someone that i care about deeply, i've got a new job that makes me feel excited and treats me well, and we have a perfect cat. and my family lives close by. there isn't much else i can ask for, or room to split up my time anyway. no point exhausting myself so i accidentally disappeared (?) whatever i'm cooling. at least i popped my head in to say hello and goodbye last night. i have a habit of stretching myself too thin so i can please everyone, but i think i'm well on my way to kicking it completely.

the party was shut down half an hour or so after we got there, so dev kat and i went to the bar. we ran into graysen althea ryan and rebekah which was so crazy because i love them all and was trying to catch althea before she went home (we are also seeing each other next week in london but like, that's such a different context). when we all realized the other group was there we were like oh my goddd screaming and jumping up and down. althea and i hugged for like 2 minutes straight and i thought i might knock her over or break my back because we were hugging so tight. and then we walked out when the bar closed and found lily and jesse!!! so fun and cute surprise. being able to feel that sort of excitement when i run into people is so important to a good life AND being able to express that appreciation……… i think graysen and i were like "i love you so much" like at least ten times.

i love my friends. what can i sayyy lol i literally spent my teen years wanting to d*e because i had never felt that sort of platonic love, but all of that changed once i got to college. likeee i am so grateful for my life and everyone everything in it. tacky but true xo

(me holding graysen, althea at the sil, jesse lily dev and kitty outside the salon)

(what's the thing carrie bradshaw said about how in new york you're always looking for a job, apartment, or boyfriend? and that you can't have all three? welllll i got all three in boston #Love)

(i haven't seen sex and the city also i just have heard that quote numerous times. this is totally taken out of context soz)

Edit: althea's post about the same night. i make an appearance! she's not on tumblr but she is on blogspot, and i love her dearly.

[multiversxwhore]

☾☾☾Hello! Hope you enjoy what you’re about to read, I would appreciate it if you like, and reblog my work here on tumblr. Please do not share my work anywhere else, and if you see it has been, or someone is claiming the work as their own please tell me. My master list is pinned to my page if you wish to see more☽☽☽  

Pairings: Batman/Bruce x Black!oc

Genre: Dark, Drama

Warnings: Mentions if blood, flesh, and dark feelings

Chapter 01

When The Party Over

Chapter 02

My mornings start early out of routine, even if I'm not working I’ve alway been an early bird. The direct opposite of Bruce, ever since his parents have died it seemed as if he’s become an owl. As I’m looking through my fridge trying to decide what to have for breakfast, my phone rings.

“Speak of the devil.” I mumble into the phone, some leftover baked chicken catches my eye. “You were talking about me? I thought all you talked about was your new boyfriend.” Bruce says bitterly, I cringe a bit at myself. It's my fault for being inconsiderate of his feelings.

“Eh, yesterday’s news, anyway, what's going on Bruce?” I pull out the chicken, along with a bowl of diced potatoes, and some collard greens. I sigh to myself when I regret the decision of not baking cornbread.

“Need some stitches…” He says sheepishly from the other end of the phone. I put him on speaker so I can use both my hands.

“Okay, now when I get over there is it still going to be stitches, or big ass claw marks?” I question him, I carve up some of the farm bird, and place it on a plate next to the potatoes, and greens. Then I pop it in the microwave, I turn back to the counter making a second plate for Bruce.

“You know me so well Nina.” Bruce jokes, feigns appreciation in his tone.

“Yea, understatement of the year, I’ll be over in a few.” After I hang up the phone, I transfer the food to plastic Tupperware bowls sealing the lid, and trapping the heat. Then I quickly pull some clothes on, and I pack some medical essentials in my bag. Ivy hops up on the counter watching rush around like a crazy lady. Well, I guess I am a crazy lady for working with The Batman, but that's besides the point. I kissed her on the nose, grabbed the food, and turned to give my living room one last sweep to make sure I don’t forget anything.

On the ride over, I tried to anticipate what Bruce had gotten himself into that required my help, and this isn't the first time I’ve had to patch him up.

I parked the car, and made my way up to the front of the large mansion. You would think Bruce would have downsized after all these years.

Good morning Ms.Gordon, you look lovely as always.” Alfred greeted me, a warm smile on his face. He steps aside like a gentleman, and lets me in. This isn't my first time in Bruce's home, but I still can't help but look around. The design is a cross between goth, and dark academia. There really isn't much furniture in the living room, just a table, chairs, a fireplace, and a life size chess board. It’s obvious he's hiding something, and I’m sure he'll never tell me.

Bruce comes limping in from his office, a poor patch up job on his abdomen, and the bandaging looks as if it's still bleeding.

“Mornin Nina.” Bruce grins, he nearly falls into an unoccupied chair at the large oak table. Alfred shakes his head walking off towards the kitchen. I dump my stuff on the table, then kneel down in front of Bruce.

“Christ what attacked you this time a crocodile?” I ask, lifting his black tee, a large bloody gash gapping into his flesh. Bruce froze for a second, no doubt trying to come up with a lie to tell me, but this time I spared him the effort.

“Forget I asked, so you know there’s a banquet next Saturday, I mean if you actually remembered this time.” I carefully moved the needle in between the freshly torn skin, I worked quickly, but not fast enough because Bruce wont stop squirming.

“Unfortunately I do remember that, and you're going as my plus one.” Bruce groans a little as I continue to poke him, my dad would have a heart attack if he knew I was patching up Bruce. He would feel as though I’m a direct accessory to whatever crime bruce may have committed. My father is always overthinking like that, but that's the brain of a detective.

“And when did we decide that I was going?” I question him, I snip the surgical thread, and reach for some antiseptic.

“He’s your father, you have to go.” Bruce said, then I ever so lightly dabbed on the ointment moving carefully to not disturb my stitching. Then I patched a large square piece of gauge, and taped it to his skin with surgical tape. Bruce winced a little more, but finally I was done.

“I hate being questioned by the press, you know that. Every question is about whether I’ll adopt children, and save their lives just how Gordon did for me.” I said bitterly, I stood up from my kneeling position on the floor, I threw out the needles, and everything I used to patch up Bruce. After I came back from washing my hands, I pulled out the leftover food I heated up in my microwave this morning.

Alfred brought in some pates, and silverware for us, I smiled, and thanked him. Not even a minute after I plated everything is Bruce scarfing the food down. I pressed  my lips, annoyed that he's not eating, again.

“You wouldn't be so hungry if you didn’t work so much.” I said watching him fork three diced potatoes, and a hunk of meat at once. He shoves it all into his mouth, chomping ferociously, I just look at him in shock.

“I don't like bothering you when you’re busy.” Bruce said, a mouth full of food, yet somehow he hasn't choked on it.

“I told you I’ll feed you, I have no problem taking care of you if you need me. That's what best friends do, Bruce. Just like you've been paying all my bills, and keeping a roof over my head.” I said, he froze at the last part, he thought I didn't know who the anonymous buyer was that brought my home when it went  into foreclosure, but I’m no fool. Bruce is the only one in the city that has a heart that big, and that kind of money.

“Well, you do stuff, I mean more than I do. You have the kids at the orphanage, it wouldn't be fair of me to take up all your time Nina.” Bruce mumbles, I noticed the collard greens were eaten this time, I had to talk him into that one.  

“Bruce, I love you, and as far as I know you're the only real friend I have. You know everything about me, I trust you with my life, and I'm only going to say this one more time. If you need food, even if it's a damn sandwich at 3 am…call me, or come over.” I grab his hand across the table, he doesn’t pull away, but accepts my warmth. Then I remembered the other errands I had to run today, I reluctantly pulled away from bruce.

“Speaking of men who I need to feed, I have to go see my dad, and yes I’ll go to the banquet with you next week.” I said, peeling myself off the chair, I gathered my things, and pulled on my jacket Bruce tries to stand up, but I gently push him back in his seat. I turn to stand between his legs, I wrap my arms around his neck bringing his face into my abdomen. Brice brings his long arms around my waist, I bury my face in his hair smelling his Axe shower gel.

“You be my shield, and I’ll be yours? Bruce questions looking up at me, I pull his hair back out of his face, my thumbs lightly tracing the bags under his eyes.

“Bonnie, and Clyde 09’.” I joke pulling away, his hands linger on my hips, and for the first time in a while I see a bit more emotion on his face. As if he’s asking me to stay, he looked more on the brink of crying, like he has so much to tell me. I knew if I asked he’d immediately shut down. I keep thinking if I give him space he’ll eventually open up, but it only seems like he struggles more. I will admit, I have my secrets too, like not telling him Reya is missing. How I’ve been out in the streets at night trapping low level thugs to question  them, and almost getting myself killed in the process. But, something is weighing on Bruce so heavy it looked like he just wanted to scream to the world, and he couldn't.

I pepper kisses all over his face, that's all I could do is temporarily soothe his internal aches, and pains.

“I have to go, call me if you need me okay.” He got up this time to walk me to the door, and I felt my heart pounding harder, his eyes were screaming at me not to go yet. Though his body language is doing the complete opposite, I guess an attempt to convince us both that he’s fine.

“I will tell your father I said hi.” Bruce squeezed my shoulder lightly, finally letting me out the door. Some wounds heal, some take time, and some remain open, and bloody.

Chapter three

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 309: Gotta Go My Own Way

Previously on BnHA: Muscular was all “well if it isn’t the protagonist on his solo journey of self-discovery, for some reason I’m unironically glad I get to fight you!” Deku was all “hey Muscular before I finish kicking your ass would you please take a moment to answer these two survey questions? Question one, do you regret being a total piece of shit? And question two, if you could do anything at all in the world other than being a total piece of shit, would you?” Muscular was all, “pfft, no and no.” Deku was all, “thanks buddy, your feedback helps make me a better hero, here’s a coupon for fifteen percent off your next ass-whooping.” Then he whooped his ass.

Today on BnHA: Deku is all “what up All Might can you believe you’ve been here this entire time?” All Might is all “I sure can since that’s literally my catch phrase, anyway how are your magic movie 1 gauntlets holding up?” Deku is all “they’re holding up fine, how are Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist doing?” Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist are all “we, your fellow co-conspirators, are also doing fine, thanks for asking!” Flashback!Deku is all “anyway so I secretly have All Might’s quirk and the most dangerous people in the world are after me, so sorry mom but that’s why I’m dropping out of school.” Inko is all “I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT” while totally accepting it. All Might is all “I GUESS WE’LL JUST HAVE TO GO ALONG WITH IT SINCE I DON’T FEEL LIKE TRYING TO STOP HIM.” Hawks, Jeanist, and Endeavor, as previously mentioned, are all “yeah that sounds like a good plan”, and Gran is all “see ya kid, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” So basically everyone in the entire world has suddenly teamed up with Deku to defeat AFO, except for the one person whose entire foreshadowed endgame is “teaming up with Deku to defeat AFO.” O Kacchan where art thou.

dear tumblr image limit: okay look. you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. but just as an experiment, I’m gonna try writing this recap with as few images as possible and we’ll see how it goes

(ETA: spoilers for how it went: it didn’t, lol.)

oh my god WHY ARE WE OPENING WITH MORE KETSUBUTSU ACADEMY KIDS.ffs we’d better at least finally get some Ms. Joke content out of this

(ETA: seriously who do I have to bribe.)

so these two KB kids who no one cares about are watching Deku leap away from the scene after dispatching Muscular. but more importantly wtf is this chapter title omg. “I can’t stay being a child” so that’s how it is huh. we’re gonna have feels and we’re going to like them. well then

oh my god he’s hauling Muscular away dhfksklfkh okay this is gonna have to be our first image because I can’t fucking help myself. look at this

just. Deku is so tiny and he’s carting away this massive unconscious lump of a man like it’s nothing why is this so funny to me. it’s like when people buy furniture, and they don’t want to pay extra for delivery and so they’re like, “I can definitely fit this king-sized mattress in the back of my compact sedan if I fold the fucking seat down, idk.” and they refuse to be talked out of it, and the next thing you know you’re watching them drive home with their open trunk door haphazardly tied down with bungee cords, and somehow it fucking works. because it turns out the compact sedan has super strength

anyway for SOME REASON now Horikoshi is all “have fun with that Deku, meanwhile we now return you to your regularly scheduled SHINDOU CONTENT” whyyyyyy

look at this. we’re really using up a whole fucking entire page on everyone arguing over who gets the honor of carrying Shindou

love how the civilians are all, “shit lol is this actually our fault?? quick, how do we play this off all casual like we were the reasonable parties here all along”

turns out all it took to finally get them to listen was making them watch while a kid got his insides ground into a pulp because of their stupidity!! what a heartwarming conclusion to this little standoff

anyways THANK GOD we’re cutting back to Deku now!! well actually we’re cutting back to Muscular who is being dropped off at the police precinct, good bye and good riddance lol

so Deku’s leaving him there and bounding away and okjdlSKFJLKJDSL OH MY GOD

no fucking way. no fucking way this little jaunt is All Might-sanctioned and approved. are you serious?? then who else is in on this?? what the hell is going on

so All Might is just WAITING FOR HIM IN AN ALLEY FFF WHO ARE YOU, JIM GORDON. or would Alfred be a better analogy here?? but like, Alfred if he ditched the suit for a moto jacket and shades

this new ensemble of All Might’s may or may not severely impact my ability to take this forthcoming conversation seriously; please stand by

also, quite the spectacular landing there, Deku. seriously lol what was that

“HOW ARE YOUR LIMBS” “THANKS TO YOU THEY’RE COMPLETELY FINE” I’M SORRY WHAT

LOL WHAT. “THANKS TO THE POWER OF THESE MAGIC GLOVES” OH I SEE THAT EXPLAINS IT

are these the same gauntlets from the first movie, then? well that’s all well and good, except that now there’s going to be more Deku Discourse than fucking ever lol. so if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m gonna once again go ahead and declare this week’s post a discourse-free zone, at least when it comes to the specific discourse of Deku’s merits as a MC, and the impact that him kicking ass and having working arms has on said merits. this has been something of a low mental energy week for me, so I’d rather reserve the energy I do have for more fun topics, such as All Might’s bitchin’ leather jacket

anyway so All Might’s saying that the gauntlets will help reinforce Deku’s arms, but they can’t withstand OFA at 100%. so basically it’s a support item designed to maintain the status quo lol. we’re basically in the same situation we were before, arm-capability-wise

homg All Might’s getting a call. time to see who else is in on Operation: Deku Alone?? or not so alone for that matter

omg

HI HAWKS, WHERE ARE YOUR WINGS

(ETA: seriously are they really gone for good?? why would he even be back on active duty then?? does he have his own American ex-boyfriend who can hook him up with exclusive support items?? dammit Horikoshi we want answers.)

looks like Jeanist and Endeavor are teaming up as well, just like they said they would. I would gladly follow this trio around all day long tbh

is this the same giant villain from the very first chapter??

looks like it to me, and it would tie in with that callback from the end of chapter 306. we all thought that was Muscular, but maybe it was this guy, and Deku left these three to deal with him while he ran off to take Muscular down

oh my god now Deku is running off again just like that

kids these days

ffffff I have not had nearly enough sleep to follow along with whatever tf Hawks is talking about here sob

like, is he trying to say that All Might is keeping Deku’s whereabouts unknown to anyone except for him?? in order to keep him safe?? but Hawks is pointing out that that’s a bad strategy and probably won’t do shit against AFO and it’s better if he lets Deku work with the rest of them?

(ETA: so @hanashimas​’ translation makes a lot more sense -- it’s not All Might who’s being overprotective, but Deku. in other words he’s trying not to drag All Might into his battles. and in addition Hawks is saying that their strategy is to take the offensive and go after AFO themselves rather than wait for him to come to them. which I’m not too sure about myself, but that’s another topic for another day.)

btw I can’t help thinking how much better this entire conversation would be if All Might was still wearing his sunglasses. put them back on my dude. it’s not too late. embrace your inner badass

DKLJSLDKFJL FLASHBACK ALERT, FUCKING FINALLY

“turns out, we were just trying to scare you straight. fuck lot of good that did though lol”

also what is this. one true love: the hospital bed. is that a scanlator joke or is Horikoshi actually that funny omg

SKLJDFLJLK

ITSA ME!! omg I love this hospital so much. though it’s sure not helping me in my quest to try and keep this post below ten images. I’m already up to eleven haha r.i.p. to me if tumblr doesn’t get its shit together

whaaaaaat, so he’s saying that Deku’s injuries were external (i.e. Tomura beating the shit out of him) rather than internal this time?? whaaaaat. excuse me but that’s some bullshit lmao. believe me, I was there

okay now he’s going on to explain that Deku’s “internal structure” seems to have been protected from the inside and out, and the corresponding panel seems to be implying that using Blackwhip as a brace paid off. huh

and also that his body is just stronger now?? so I guess he’s better able to withstand the quirk after an additional year of training?? I’M NOT SURE IF I BUY ANY OF THIS LOL but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief

OH MY GOD RED ALERT, INKO IS ASKING ALL MIGHT TO EXPLAIN WTAF DEKU’S QUIRK IS, IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGG

SO HE’S EXPLAINING IT TO HER OFF-SCREEN, AND INKO IS JUST LIKE

I GUESS THAT’S FAIR LOL. IT’S TRUE INKO I’M SO SORRY, YOUR SON IS A PROGATONIST R.I.P.

AHHKKJH DEKU ANGST IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGGGG

what is this soft pop beat that’s suddenly being pumped in over the speakers. I’VE GOT TO MOVE ON~ AND BE WHO~ I~ AM~~~, I JUST DON’T BELONG HERE, I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAND. also, follow-up question, when is Kacchan finally going to come back so he can jump in with the “WHAT ABOUT US~~~” bridge, huh. come the fuck on, Horikoshi

lmao All Might jesus christ

but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision...

anyway, yes!! finally that sweet, sweet “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger” angst!!

mmm that’s good angst Brent. Kacchan with center panel honors as usual, you love to see it. anyways though who do I have to yell at to get Deku a goddamn HUG around here seriously

so Inko is of course reacting with panic, and sensibly saying that she doesn’t approve of Deku’s “RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE BAD GUYS ALL ON MY OWN, DON’T WORRY MOM I’LL JUST GET STRONGER, EASY AS PIE, IT’S A FOOLPROOF STRATEGY” plan

son of a bitch this manipulative green asshole is really gonna sit here and smile fondly at his mom and try to convince her that he’s Not A Little Kid Anymore. the hell you’re not mister

y'all are really just gonna sit there and let him talk you into this?? surely it can’t be that easy??

OH MY GOD

THE FEELS oh my god oh my god. BUT ALSO YOU’RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO COLLAPSE INTO HIS ARMS SOBBING AND LET HIM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS LKJLJLFK. WHERE ARE ALL THE STRICT PARENTS AT?? AIZAWA, GANG ORCA, MITSUKI, SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND TELL DEKU TO SIT HIS ASS THE FUCK DOWN. NOW LISTEN HERE YOUNG MAN!!

“EVEN IF I TRY TO STOP YOU YOU’LL STILL LEAVE” WELL SURE, IF BY “TRY TO STOP HIM” YOU MEAN POLITELY TRY TO TALK HIM OUT OF IT FOR THREE SECONDS. HE’S SIXTEEN WTF WHEN DID HE BECOME THE BOSS OF YOU ALL. SOMEONE NEEDS TO COME AND TELL HIM HE’S GROUNDED

anyway sob so that’s the story of how Deku talked his parents into letting him drop out of school, and even convinced All Might to be his own personal Guy In The Chair. holy shit. this kid really went and rolled a nat 20 and the rest of them had no choice but to fold without argument

meanwhile here’s a panel of Best Jeanist trying to braid his phone into his hair just cuz

I’m dying to know which part of his language he considers to be crude here. you literally didn’t even use a contraction my guy

so now flashback!Deku is talking to Gran in the dark, and Gran is all “can you believe I’m not fucking dead yet lol that’s too funny. anyway, you sure I can’t interest you in killing Tomura after all?? no?? okay then here’s my cape.” truly a heartwarming scene

I’m kind of torn here tbh. on the one hand, my adhd ass wasn’t all that interested in sitting down and having an extended scene between these two when there’s so much else that I want to get to. but on the other hand, even I can admit that cramming this entire reunion into a single page seems just a BIT rushed. idk. like maybe someone can let Horikoshi know it’s a marathon and not a race. Deku didn’t even get any dialogue here, some of us want to know his thoughts!! but anyway

AND JUST LIKE THAT?!

how did all four of them let him con them into this. I literally just watched it happen and I still can’t figure out how. “I GUESS THIS SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT IS OUR LEADER NOW” ffflfjf. when Aizawa finds out he’s gonna go apeshit. AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHO I HAVE BEEN ASSURED DOES IN FACT STILL EXIST. WHAT ABOUT USSSSS, WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH. WHAT ABOUT TRUST???! YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUUU

btw lol don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying this, and I’m honestly glad Deku’s not alone because that would suck for him! but that said, Hawks and Jeanist have lost any credibility they might have once had as far as being The Responsible Ones, and as for All Might and Endeavor, fucking hell lol. everyone just deposited all of their fucks in a bank somewhere for safekeeping and decided to never look back. godspeed you mad lads

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off. 

He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment. 

But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm. 

Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it. 

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly. 

He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times. 

But now… 

Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head. 

The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling. 

And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it. 

Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought. 

Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day. 

That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands. 

There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty. 

Why, he had no idea. 

But he did know one thing. 

You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation. 

Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places. 

Then there was the blood. 

When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it. 

He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured. 

But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood. 

So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce. 

But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth. 

And maybe he could coax you into a deal. 

The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield. 

With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company. 

With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time. 

But first, he had to find you. 

Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door. 

No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down. 

“Bakubroooooooo!” 

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning. 

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent. 

“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door. 

Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock. 

“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo. 

The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?” 

“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.” 

“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.” 

“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.” 

“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long? 

“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?” 

“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar. 

“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.” 

“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving. 

“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?” 

“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet. 

“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.” 

“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.” 

“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.” 

“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily. 

“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll. 

Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned. 

Except now the consequences were catching up to him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now. 

Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead. 

“How bad?” he finally asked. 

Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago. 

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.” 

“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.” 

As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency… 

“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.” 

“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?” 

“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?” 

Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face. 

“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.” 

“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.” 

“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about? 

“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.” 

Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason. 

And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.” 

“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?” 

“The girl?” 

“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed. 

“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him. 

“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.” 

“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction. 

The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply. 

If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again. 

When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.” 

“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked. 

“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.” 

“Well… we should go get it from her.” 

This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack. 

“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.” 

“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.” 

He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly. 

“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.” 

“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.” 

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest. 

“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.” 

“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom. 

“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him. 

Bakugo slammed the door in response. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.” 

“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.” 

“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.” 

“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!” 

“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed. 

“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused. 

“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.” 

A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl. 

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.” 

The excuse felt flat, even to him. 

“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.” 

“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest. 

“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!” 

“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?” 

After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit. 

Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you. 

“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.” 

“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner. 

As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises. 

Until now. 

“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.” 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up. 

“Take the next left up ahead.” 

“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions. 

This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to. 

And he’d have a healer just down the hall. 

They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him. 

“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?” 

“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto. 

“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.” 

The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids. 

And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond. 

Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima. 

“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him. 

There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts. 

Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea. 

Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses. 

But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash. 

“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him. 

“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.” 

Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door. 

“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?” 

“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store. 

Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?” 

“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—” 

That was good enough for Bakugo. 

The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed. 

The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there. 

In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured. 

Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs. 

And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other. 

The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause. 

His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable. 

But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying. 

“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s. 

He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face. 

Why were you afraid of him? 

“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—” 

“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.” 

“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—” 

“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him. 

“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying. 

“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you. 

You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands. 

Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise. 

“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside. 

“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.” 

The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor. 

Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too. 

Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk? 

He needed to get you alone and get answers. 

“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag. 

Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them. 

“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.” 

“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.” 

Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you. 

“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions. 

“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima. 

“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.” 

“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?” 

“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.” 

“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!” 

Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt. 

Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut. 

“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic. 

“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.” 

“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—” 

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—” 

“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—” 

Fucking hell, this was taking too long. 

“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.” 

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?” 

“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes. 

He’d been right. You did do something to his ears. 

“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?” 

You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline. 

“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.” 

“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?” 

“Could you leave?” 

Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort. 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?” 

“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.” 

“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.” 

“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter. 

Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response. 

“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.” 

Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous? 

“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.” 

“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there. 

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason. 

Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.” 

“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again. 

This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl. 

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.” 

“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.” 

“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—” 

“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?” 

The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you. 

You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—” 

“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?” 

“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.” 

You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood. 

“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.” 

“Great. See you then.” 

With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake. 

But that didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's reading log is here and there is a lot. Stucky Week provided me with lots of incredible fics to read and it was honestly a delight! There are a couple of things I didn't get around to reading just yet but I'm hoping I can get to them very soon <3 Make sure to check out the @stucky-week tumblr to see some incredible non-fic creations too.

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

🌻 Move Before We Lose It by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 59k words, Mature]

“The two of you are ridiculous.” Okoye grabs a bag of M&Ms and starts picking out all the greens. “If I knew that hiring you would turn Steve into an unbearable goof, I would’ve voted for the guy who claimed he came up with Got Milk?”

“I thought that asshole hit on Wanda as soon as he came out of his interview.” Bucky makes an unpleasant face.

Okoye raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, so imagine how obnoxious the Steve and Bucky show’s been for the last five years.”

With the help of his brother T’Challa, Bucky Barnes lands a job at Danvers Advertising right out of college. He never would have seen the family and life he’d build with his team coming, or the lifelong friendship with one Steve Rogers.

Couch is Synonymous with Matchmaker by oh_i_swear @oh-i-swear-writes [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain American is living a good, if lonely, life.

However, a new tenant with an awful couch moves into the Brooklyn Brownstone that houses Steve's apartment and kind of turns everything upside down - but in the best possible way.

A shrunkyclunks meet-ugly-turned-meet-cute in which the awful couch accidentally becomes a matchmaker (of sorts, anyway).

How to Make a Million Dollars by Getting Fired by isolatedwriter [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Bucky never liked SHIELD, but he didn't think he'd ever been on the run from them. However, clearly his past self didn't account for finding Steve Rogers being strapped to a bed against his will. Something like that seems to turn your whole life around.

-

In which Bucky frees Steve from SHIELD and they end up on the run together.

The Importance of Being Stevie by alexcat @alexcat45 [Stucky, 711 words, Teen]

Steve heads to Wakanda and meets Bucky's other sweetheart - his goat.

The Artbook by luna_rainbow @luna-rainbow [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Steve notices Bucky doesn't like using the new arm, so he brings something with him on his next visit to Wakanda to explain why it was okay.

🌻 Running Out Of Time by The_Glacian @steve-x-bucky [Stucky, 1k words, General]

When Bucky returned home from work, they popped open a bottle of cheap red wine that burned all the way down when Steve took a cautious sip.

to hoping by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

"If I can still be useful here, maybe I can find a purpose."

"More than a purpose, Steve. You can find a life."

If I could tell you I was yours by christywantspizza [Stucky, 2k words, General]

Steve meets a scared Bucky in the streets of Brooklyn one day and helps him find his way home.

🌻 The Weight of Gold by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Stucky, 860 words, General]

”Your arm,” Steve says, his voice still weak from the cold. ”What happened to it?”

OR:

Steve is trapped under ice in the Arctic Ocean. Merman!Bucky finds and saves him.

The Sweet Escape by The_Glacian [Stucky, 823 words, General]

In a few strides, Steve covered the distance between them and wrapped him in his arms.

I Can See That This Love Was Meant For Me by HNJ [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

“What’s this?” Nat says. She hands him a page and Steve touches it with careful hands. The paper is faded and brittle, but the drawing it carries is still the same.

As he stares at the image, lost years curl around his heart. They tangle around him like vines until they’re all he can feel. He puts the paper down.

“Just a portrait.” He says.

It's A Beautiful Arm by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 100 words, General]

Steve reunites with Bucky in Wakanda.

Cradled in Love by The_Glacian [Stucky, 879 words, General]

It was no secret that Steve was a delicate creature.

Wrap Your Hands Around Me (Show Me I Belong) by whenwordsmakesense @whenwordsmakesense [Stucky, 963 words, Teen]

Post Mission, Bucky can't sleep, and Steve's super-hearing picks up on it. Cue late-night cuddles and some of Steve's inner-thoughts.

🌻 En Pointe by Oh_i_swear [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Bucky Barnes is an ex-professional ballet dancer now running his own dance school. He's kind, compassionate and clearly cares about the kids in his class and their dreams and goals - most of which involve getting to the stage where they can dance en pointe.

Steve Rogers is a perfectionist and owns En Pointe, the dance wear store nearest to Bucky's dance studio. It's almost light a right of passage when the kids in Bucky's class get to visit the store, not only because they finally get their pointe shoes, but because they get to see the infamous squabbling between Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers who clearly rub each other up the wrong way.... but is everything as it seems?

Listen Close by fandomfluffandfuck @fandomfluffandfuck [Stucky, 9k words, Explicit]

The Barnes And Noble podcast is run by two best friends - life long friends - Steve and Bucky. They talk about a multitude of topics but when the topic at hand turns to the quite often laughable quality, or lack thereof, of the pornography industry and things like fake moans come up... with examples (at least, examples on Bucky's part) it's pretty damn hard (pun not intended) for Steve not take, uh, interest with that sound. Or with other sounds Bucky may or may not make.

...and, well, that conversation isn't one they're ever going to publish as it turns out.

The Office Romance by isolatedwriter [Stucky, 4k words, Teen]

It had become a joke around the office, the fact that Barnes and Rogers acted like an old married couple.

-

In which Steve and Bucky are already dating, but their co-workers haven't exactly caught on yet.

🌻 Pyxis by The_Glacian [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Pyxis, ‘the compass’ – a constellation in the southern hemisphere.

(Being single didn’t directly translate to having a prime deficiency. Yet a break-in was what Bucky needed to realise that his life could use a little variety.)

Moonlight Kissed by The_Glacian [Stucky, 782 words, General]

The problem was, Steve had very little experience in the physical aspects of dating.

A Wish Upon the Fireworks by jesm @jesmme [Stucky, 676 words, Teen]

Steve & Bucky watch the 4th of July fireworks and Steve gets a birthday wish

🌻 Lips That Touch Liquor by millesable @marvelousescapism [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“I can’t lose you, Buck… you’re the only… you’re all I got in this whole world, Buck, I can’t…”

“Lose me? Where you think I’m goin’, huh, pal? I’m right here.”

“You’re gonna leave me. When you find out.”

“Find out what, Stevie?”

🌻 A Good Cause by apkidd @deletexforever [Stucky, 8k words, General]

When Steve reluctantly covers the charity kissing booth, he catches the eye of a handsome stranger with a wallet full of cash.

Dreaming Wide Awake by The_Glacian [Stucky, 928 words, General]

It was a fine summer evening that found him at the kitchen counter, experimenting with rye bread, when Bucky let himself in through the front door.

A couple of kids from Brooklyn by unremarkable @otp-holic [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky comes back home after a few days out on a mission and finds Steve in the middle of a research of its own.

🌻 evening glow by PurpleStarship @inthelapofthewhiteqwen [Stucky, 1k words, General]

They're watching the cars pass by down on the street, the children playing ball in a dead-end, the way they used to all these decades ago. Bucky wonders if some eighty-odd years down the line two of those kids will be sitting by the window in their own little place and say: "We used to play ball in that alley. Look how far we made it, sweetheart."

***

Bucky and Steve spend a quiet evening at home:3

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

All your fault [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested

Title: All your fault Pairing: Sirius Black x Gryffindor!Reader Word count: 1.9k Published: 16 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Sirius’ boredom causes you to end up in detention. Or so you think, but he has a different perspective on the events and you clearly can’t find the golden middle. Request: [x] I have combined two requests. One from Tumblr and one from Wattpad. I took the liberty to change some things, but overall it’s the same. 

“Hey Talented! Could you write a Sirius x Gryffindor!reader where the reader is jock with intense emotions and a chaser in Quidditch team? Also Is exceptionally talented at DADA and that make sirius jealous and turned-on too? please?” - @marauders-hogwarts​​ 

“Hey, I was just reading your marauders x reader one shots and I had an idea for one. Could you pls make one where Sirius gets into an argument with you and at the end grabs your hand to turn you around and abruptly smashes his lips against yours and asks you to be his girl. And the next day he comes up to you and tell you that ther is something wrong with your hand untill he picks it up and puts his own hand in yours and says that's better. Please? Thanks so much. I am a huge fan of your work.” - @Tamarakyra [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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Sirius Black had never been one to question things. He was very stubborn much to his professors’ dismay. Doing what he wanted regardless of consequences has become his personal motto. Swaying him seemed impossible, he always knew what he wanted, how he wanted it and when he wanted it.

However, on a rainy dull Saturday afternoon as he was watching you up in the air, flying across the quidditch pitch on your broomstick, your hair flat against your face, your uniform drenched in water, your eyes covered with a pair of goggles, something has changed within him. For a mere moment he felt as if time had stopped as you screamed at James for not being able to catch the snitch and win against Ravenclaw. His eyes focused only on you, even forgetting about the ongoing match.

The way you sat on your broomstick leaning forward to speed up, the way you tucked the quaffle under your arm and secured it, the sheer amount of energy you projected and the bold tone you used against his best friend all hit him right in the chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bench of the bleachers. He didn’t know where his sudden feelings came from, but the unexpected warmness filling him up from the inside made him smile at the simple sight of you. From then on, he knew the friendship you had has become more on his side.

You sat right beside Sirius at Defence Against the Dark Arts, doodling on the parchment in front of you as he kept nudging you, trying to get your attention.

“What now?” you asked for the 10th time in the past 10 minutes. “Perhaps you could focus more on the lesson. You need it more than I do,” you hissed angrily, feeling fed up with his childish behaviour.

“I’m bored,” he whined in a silent whisper.

“I can see that,” you scoffed as you drew another random pattern on your paper. Closing out the lesson, you focused completely on your drawing, finding it more interesting than whatever your professor was talking about. That was until Sirius started nudging you again.

“What now?” you hissed in anger, slightly raising your voice, but you quickly silenced yourself as you looked around, every pair of eyes focusing on you, including your professor’s. “I’m so sorry,” you apologised, hunching your back, trying to hide away from embarrassment.

“Since you have already graced us with your attention, why don’t you answer the question?” he asked in a pompous tone, clearly trying to make you feel even more awkward. However, as the new teacher, he couldn’t have known about your exceptional knowledge and talent on the subject. It took you a good second to recall the memory from the darkest and deepest part of your mind, before you were ready to answer.

“The Tongue-tying curse prevents people from being able to form a coherent sentence, therefore stopping them from being able to incantate further spells. Although Langlock its sibling curse also prevents people from being able to speak, in this spell’s case the tongue sticks to the roof of the mouth, whilst when using Silencio it causes the victim to be temporarily muted,” you explained proudly. The professor didn’t compliment you, nor did he scold you. He offered you a deadpan expression and cleared his throat.

Sirius snickered beside you with a proud grin across his face, knowing the professor didn’t expect your reply. Years ago, he would have told you off for being a know it all, but now he found it comical. He didn’t know if it was because his feelings had changed or because it was you who did it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You could have done anything and he would have supported you like a loyal puppy. At times he couldn’t even believe how easily affected he was by you.

“Khm- smartass,” you heard a cough from the side as Evan Rosier was trying to cover his words in an obvious manner. You were not one to let others walk over you nor did you plan to be one in that moment. You felt anger bubbling up inside you, the boy’s mere presence irritating you.

“Let me show the spell in practice, professor,” you grinned proudly as he turned around with a shocked expression across his face, ready to stop you in mid-spell. However, he was slower than he wished to be and before he could have said anything, the word left your lips. “Silencio,” you lifted your hand and pointed your wand at the boy, watching as he grabbed his throat, desperately trying to speak, gaping like a fish, but no words leaving his mouth.

Sirius watched as the scenario unfolded in front of him. His initial surprise quickly disappeared as he saw a smirk appear across your face, pure pride taking over your stance. He always admired your can-do attitude and bold personality, possibly one of the reasons you have been such good friends. He wasn’t lacking any of those personality traits, but when he saw you standing up for yourself, being strong and independent, it just drove him crazy. It made him feel like there was an invisible string between the two of you, pulling him closer and closer to you.

Since he realised his own feelings for you, he was watching every little move of yours, trying to protect you from everything and anything that could possibly hurt you. But before he could ever intervene and show you how much he cared for you, you took care of it, proving once again how independent you were. He didn’t mind though, he loved the strength you harboured, he just wished to be able to show you that you could rely on him.

You watched as the professor rushed up to Rosier, pulling his wand out of the inner pocket of his robe and quickly using the counter spell on him, before rushing up to your table, his index finger pointing right between your eyes. “Detention! How dare you? Detention after classes!” he shouted at you, veins popping on the side of his neck and temple, his face turning red in anger. If he had time, he would have probably embarrassed you in front of the whole class, but as the bell rang, indicating the end of your class, he had no choice, but to let you go.

Quickly collecting your belongings, you hurried out of the classroom with Sirius right behind you, calling your name relentlessly as you were about to cross the Courtyard.

“What do you want?” you asked angrily as you halted. You didn’t want to sound rude, being around Sirius was the highlight of your day, but at that moment he was a pain in your backside.

“Woah, calm down,” he gestured with his hands, but if anything, it made you angrier.

“Calm down? Calm down? It was all your fault to begin with. If you didn’t nag me about being bored, I would have kept drawing and kept my mouth shut. But you just couldn’t find anything better to do so you decided to get on my nerves and now of course it’s me who has to go to detention,” you rambled, annoyed, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Okay, I accept that I was nagging you, but I didn’t curse my classmate,” he scoffed with a hidden smile in the corner of his lips.

“It’s not funny! If you didn’t nag me, the professor wouldn’t have questioned me, which means Rosier would have never insulted me, hence the reason you are at fault,” you groaned as you turned around and started walking away.

“Hey, stop already,” he whined, but you didn’t halt your steps, if anything, you sped up. “I’m sorry,” he tried to break the ice, but it seemed to just fire you up even more. You turned on your heel, stopping right in front of the boy.

“Sorry? That’s it? You just have to say sorry and I’m supposed to forget about it?” you scoffed in disbelief. “You must be joking,” you looked up at him in clear astonishment, but after seemingly waiting for an eternity Sirius still didn’t reply.

He wanted to, he was about to defend himself, but as he watched you getting worked up about such a minor issue, at least minor for him, he could only think about how adorable you looked when you were upset. Not that he ever wanted to see you angry or sad, but for some reason it just caught his eyes that instead of being threatening, you seemed as if you were slightly pouting.

You groaned, annoyed as the silence grew between the two of you and a small smile started appearing on Sirius’ face. “I hate you!” you shouted at him as you left him behind, stomping across the Courtyard, heavy and loud steps following you.

“Do you?” he shouted after you, silently chuckling, finding your behaviour quite funny and somewhat cute.

“I do!” you replied sulking, your steps becoming quicker.

Sirius couldn’t just let you walk away, he jogged after you and grabbed your wrist, halting your steps, pulling you back against his chest. For a second even the air stuck in your lungs as you realised how close you were to him, his breath fanning your face, his pink lips almost touching yours. You were completely engulfed by his aura, his warm hold on your wrist sending shivers through your body as his other arm sneaked around your waist.

You could swear he felt your dangerously racing heart against his chest, your lips quivering in anticipation, wanting nothing but to feel his mouth on yours. As if he could read your mind, he leaned closer and closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you slowly, sensually. You expected him to be slightly aggressive, maybe dominating, but his kiss was more passionate, gentle instead, causing you a delightful surprise.

“Why?” you breathed against his lips as you parted, your eyes still closed, completely lost in the moment.

“Because I wanted to do it for a long time,” he whispered.

“Why would you?” you chuckled awkwardly. He was always your closest friend and now that you kissed, knowing the friendship you have had was gone, you didn’t know what to do.

“Do I really need to say it?” he scratched the back of his neck, pulling a face, feeling embarrassed about the words you waited for so impatiently.

“If you don’t say it out loud, how do you expect me to understand?” you questioned, and Sirius knew how right you were.

“I- khm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I- I have liked you for a while,” his words were silent and unsure, making you question it.

“Are you sure?” you asked, making him feel even more awkward.

“Of course, I’m,” he groaned, slightly sulking. “It’s just not easy to say.”

“Is it easier if I say I like you too?” you giggled happily, watching as his embarrassed expression slowly changed into a proud grin.

“I knew it, I felt it,” he chuckled happily, earning a deadpan look from you as you slapped his chest gently, before your lips curved into a small smile.

“Right, you did,” you scoffed as you peeled his hands off you and started walking to your next class with a hidden smile in the corner of your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he called after you as he tried to catch up to you.

“What now?” you asked, rolling your eyes as Sirius joined beside you.

“There’s something wrong with your hand,” he stated with a deep frown. You looked down at your hand, lifting it up, looking at it curiously, turning it up and down, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“What do you mean? It seems alright to me,” you replied in confusion, but you couldn’t take a closer look at it as Sirius took it in his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Now, it’s better,” he grinned playfully, making you giggle.

“Sirius Orion Black, you have a horrible sense of humour,” you scoffed, but you couldn’t fool him. He knew his little joke made you happy and even if it didn’t, the warm feeling of each other's touch, your small hands engulfed by his big palm made up for his silly joke.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Harry Potter general taglist:

@awritingtree​ @chloer1275​ @emmaev​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @inkhearthes​ @pregnant-piggy​ @anchy-bananchy​ @sreidswhore​ @levylovegood​ @fific7​ @harrypotter289​ @moatsnow​ @pandaxnienke​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @iliveiloveiwrite​ @acuunaa​ @nuttytani​ @audreythehufflepuff​ @the-unmanaged-mischief​ @mesmerisedangel​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @justmesadgirl​ @montsepliego​ @iamninaanna​ @hahee154hq​ @emilianamason​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​ @bruxa0007​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @naviation-xx​ 

Harry Potter - Sirius Black taglist:

@msmb​ @aspiringsloth20​ 

[admiringlove]

got a little something there

+synopsis: jjk boys when you wipe something off their face while eating.

+characters: gojo satoru; fushiguro megumi; itadori yuuji; inumaki toge.

+warnings: none, just some tooth rotting fluff.

+order:  pls pls pls do more jjk hcs! preferably something along with food?? like if you wipe something off their face or spoon feed them something you're cooking and they just blush adslkjd [submitted by 🌱 anon]

+author’s notes: i really liked this prompt so <3 also pls reblog, as they help me tons!

+navigation: main menu, jjk menu.

— GOJO SATORU.

we all know he’s cocky and has a huge ego. the two of you are enjoying ramen in the comfort of your own home, away from all the chaos just for a day. you’re sharing stories of your missions, and when it’s gojo’s turn to talk about his students, you suddenly stop him. 

he becomes petty, saying, “why do you always stop me when i’m talking? wait, what are you-”

he stops. literally just stops and sits there for a minute to contemplate what just happened. you’re staring back at him innocently, and then you break out into giggles after looking at him. 

gojo satoru is blushing. his hair is disheveled, his eyes are wide, and his finger is touching his lip. he was taken aback by the sudden contact you just made with him. 

“what did you just do?” he asks after pausing to compose himself. you chuckle, telling him that a bit of sauce was left on his lip.

“[y/n], you can’t just kiss me and laugh at me! do you know how cold-hearted you are?” he narrows his eyes at you as you almost spit out your water while laughing. you get up from your seat, picking up the finished bowls of ramen to put them in the sink. but before you leave, you press a small peck to gojo’s forehead saying, “well, i don’t mind being cold-hearted if i get to see you blush like a fifteen-year-old in love.”

he gasps, placing a hand on his heart as he pretends to be offended. but you know, that it’s these moments that make him feel truly at home. you’re both humane, vulnerable, and bare to one another. you have nothing to hide, and you’re a family. 

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI.

you’re having lunch together after you managed to get rid of kugisaki and itadori for sometime. while those two were mesmerized by gojo-sensei’s “tokyo-themed” antics, you made a run for it. 

you ended up stopping outside a diner, and somehow at the same time, both your stomachs grumbled. fushiguro and you ended up laughing with one another as you walked in and ordered burgers. 

megumi’s chewing slowly as you mumble something about how it might rain soon, nodding along with you as he said something about rain bringing out more negative energy in people. you complimented at how smart he was, and he retorted with, “i’m not that smart, dumbass.”

and he reaches for a fry, dipping it in ketchup and popping it in his mouth swiftly. you smile at his actions, to which he raises an eyebrow. his mouth is half-full when he asks, “what are you looking at?”

“oh, nothing,” you grin toothily. you reach a hand out, and megumi confusedly places his chin on it, thinking you were doing that stupid trend again. you laugh, covering your mouth with your other hand as you wipe the ketchup off his lip. chuckling, you say, “there.”

fushiguro covers his face, looking away at the window. you’re staring at him innocently, blinking as you ask, “did i... do something wrong?”

“no, no,” he shakes his head, gulping down some water to hide his flushed cheeks, “you didn’t do anything. it’s me.”

“what did you do then?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows as you sipped on your drink. you’re teasing him, he knows it. you know that he knows as well. but you continue to do so anyway, because a flustered fushiguro is a sight for sore eyes. 

“n-nothing. don’t worry about it,” he clears his throat almost immediately, trying to avoid all eye-contact with you. but you don’t budge one bit. you’re staring him down with narrow eyes, wiggling eyebrows and a smug grin.

“megumi, come on! tell me!” you whine, kicking his foot under the table. he groans, sighing agitatedly. he’s realizing that you’re not innocent after all, and it makes him even more flustered and irritated because of that.

“i said no.”

“meanie >:|”

— ITADORI YUUJI.

yuuji is a carefree boy. one that loves reminding you of how much he treasures you, and also the one who constantly is realizing how deep he’s fallen for you.

you’re in his dorm, watching really bad horror movies together as the two of you continue to criticize them. yuuji’s holding the popcorn, and you’re holding the ice-cream bowl. 

“oh my god, the plot is shit but the make-up is so scary,” itadori crunches on the popcorn in his mouth and hides his eyes. you giggle next to him, turning to look at his scared state as you say, “it’s not that scary. besides, we’re used to looking at real life scary things.”

“you’re right,” he laughs, unveiling his eyes. he didn’t expect the proximity between the two of you and he’s taken aback. he tries to fall back a little so he doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but the popcorn bucket ends up flying everywhere. 

“oh god-” you exclaim, clutching your stomach as you laugh. yuuji’s just sitting there with a deadpan expression, rolling his eyes at his own jumpiness. he shakes his head, pushing off the popcorn on the seat towards the floor as he says, “we’ll clean that up later.”

“you’ll clean that up later,” you correct. he whines for a bit, but then stops when an interesting scene finally comes on screen. taking a spoonful of the ice-cream in your bowl, he lays back, hand across the sofa behind you. 

when he catches you staring at him, he smiles. then he says, “[y/n]? why’re you looking at me like that?”

“[y/n]? hello?” he asks, and suddenly your hand is on his face, wiping away a bit of the melted ice-cream. 

he does blush, but he doesn’t hide it from you. he’s one to openly show his feelings and he wears his heart on his sleeve, so he’ll blush and give you a close-eyed smile. then, he’ll continue to say, “thanks, i didn’t notice it was there.”

him being a carefree fool in love definitely makes you all flustered. 

— INUMAKI TOGE.

honestly, this is probably the most domestic one. you’re cooking, and his arms are firmly, yet softly wrapped around your waist. his chin rests on your nape, as he watches you in solace. 

you’d stir the soup, then you’d lift the spoon up slightly to his mouth to give him a taste. inumaki would open his mouth smally, then he’d give you a hum of satisfaction. 

you’d smile, turning the stove off so you could turn to your boyfriend. but as soon as you do, your eyes soften and a small chuckle escapes your lips. 

he raises an eyebrow in confusion as you extend your hand and wipe the little soup stain off. and then, his heart does a few backflips as you giggle while pouring the soup into bowls. 

inumaki does blush. he blushes furiously. his cheeks are red, the tips of his ears are red, and he’s the type to show you that he’s flustered too. he loves it when you’re cupping his cheeks when he’s embarrassed. he can’t meet your eyes whlie blushing, but he’s still working on that. 

so as he just stands there, he waits for you to cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the forehead. you turn around with the bowls of soup in your hand and your heart just melts. 

inumaki toge, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves as he looks down at the ground, flushing madly with his eyes widened. you place the food on the table and cup his cheeks(exactly like he wanted), but you lean in and give him a small peck on the lips instead(something he didn’t expect).

safe to say, inumaki toge loves you and your unpredictability. but he also sometimes intentionally eats food messily.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[glytchfic]

We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting. 

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems. 

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’  

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’  

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.  

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

_

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.  

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

_

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?  

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

_

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.  

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.  

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’  

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.  

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.  

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.  

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

_

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.  

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.  

‘Yes, I’m fine.’  

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.  

[donutloverxo]

First time

Kinktober day 15 - Virginity kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - So anon asked for step dad Steve and I can't do that to Steve. This started out as step dad ransom but then me being me couldn't go through with it🤦‍♀️ so he's supposed to be your stepmoms husband which still makes him your step dad, I think.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - 18+ONLY! smut(m/f), dub conish, painful sex, unprotected sex, implied age gap, loss of virginity, bloodplay.

Pairing - Step dad!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

“Oh! Don’t act like you care. I can tell you wouldn’t give a shit if I left for an entire year. I’m not one of your barely legal bimbos you can manipulate however you like,” Karen ranted on and on to Ransom. You didn’t know what they were fighting about today - you didn’t care to find out either.

“God! Would you fucking give me a break? All you do is yap your trap all day long,” he snapped at her.

You looked at the main door, to leave your house you would have to go through the hallway where both of them were having their ‘lively' discussion, which you had no intentions to be a part of.

Karen gave him a deadly glare - which literally gave you chills even though you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

She walked closer to him, until she was only inches away from his face, “For your own good,” wrapping her palm around his chiselled jaw “don’t forget your place. You do not curse at me or yell at me.”

He didn’t say anything back, simply holding her unwavering glare.

She looked at the stairs, her face instantly lighting up into a faux smile upon seeing you. “Darling, what are you doing there? Come here,” she said extending an arm to you. You walked down to her, she engulfed you into a hug, soothing a hand over your head, “Mommy has to go away for a while, to Paris for fashion week. I know that’s not something you’d be interested in.”

You shook your head. No, those events were a bit too stuffy for you. You dared to sneak a glance at Ransom, he was fuming. His jaw clenched hard, his face and neck flushed as he heaved. You weren’t sure if that rage was directed towards you or your stepmother.

“Fuck this shit,” he spit before leaving and slamming the door behind him. You cringed at the loud noise it made. You were relieved that he was gone, given what he had done in his impulsivity and rage, you didn’t want to be around him when he was that angry.

“Well?” Karen’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You better not be going to meet that Jack or John or whatever.”

“His names Jeremy, Karen, and I really like him. If you got to know him - ”

“I don’t need to know him. He does not bring anything to the table. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe in the same air as you.”

“A rich guy can treat me badly too. I don’t know why you think I can’t be happy with a normal person.” you shook your head. She of all people should not be questioning your taste in men.

“His fathers a fucking high school teacher, honey,” she scoffed. “No, I won’t have you dating a nobody.”

“Well, Ransoms a friggin' murderer!” you screamed. “What kind of man conspires to kill his own grandfather?!”

She had married him just months after he was declared 'not guilty' of not one, but TWO murders. Although, everyone knew that he definitely did it.

You begged her not to marry him. But she seemed to be completely smitten with him, besides she had never really valued your opinion or seen you as an adult.

“Say what you will about Ransom. But he has the name - he’s a Thrombey, he comes from old money. As annoying as he can be - he’s not hideous to look at either, I suppose.”

That was the only thing you might be inclined to agree with. You hated that some part of you was attracted to him. Even though, he was a terrible person. He treated ‘the help', the people who raised you and cared for you as if they were beneath him.

He treated Karen like shit - which she may deserve, you knew of her affairs and the one French boyfriend she was visiting under the guise of business.

He was however, completely indifferent to you. He never got in your way, sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, following every move you made. Sometimes you wondered... if maybe... some part of him found you attractive as well.

You knew you weren’t much to look at, especially compared to your stepmother, but then why else would he be staring so much?

Was he plotting to OFF you as well? To get you out of his way. You’d be inheriting most of your late fathers estate.

***

You closed the door behind you, as quietly as you could so as not to wake anyone. You got home a little later than midnight. You weren’t used to staying out that long but it was one of your best friends birthday.

“What were you doing out so late?” You yelped as you heard his voice.

“Ransom! Oh my gosh, you scared me,” you tried to catch your breathe.

“It’s after twelve. Who were you out with?” he raised a brow. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

“Huh?” you looked down at your bodycon dress. You weren’t used to wearing clothes that tight but this one just seemed so pretty and perfect to capture Jeremy’s attention. “It’s Karen’s design,” you shrugged. It was provocative but classy and respectable which was your stepmothers brand.

“What kind of message do you think you’re sending dressing like that? If you want to be the talk of the town - ”

“Ransom, oh my god! It’s just a dress and I’m - I’m a virgin!” you confessed. It wasn’t something you were ashamed of - why would you be?

“What?” his eyes widened and his mouth gaped.

He had known you were a pretty little thing since the moment he met you. So shy and demure and pure. Of course you’d be a virgin. Like a perfect present waiting to be unwrapped.

You almost smiled at that. Stunning Ransom like that made you feel smug for some reason. “Yeah. I’m saving myself for the right guy.” you replied in a small voice, averting his gaze and looking at the carpet.

He took two long strides and walked over to you, before you knew it he had a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you against his hard chest. “And what’s the right guy like, sweetheart?”

“Someone - uh,” your brain blanked, having him that close to you, feeling his warm breath on your face almost made you black out.

He bent his neck till he was closer to your ear, “Well, don’t lose it to Jeremy or whatever. He won’t even know what to do with a sweet thing like you.”

You gasped, trying to push him away but his stance was unrelenting. “That is so inappropriate, Ransom! You’re married!”

He grabbed at your failing wrists, pinning them behind your back, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Karen and I have an arrangement. You ever been kissed before?” he asked, his tongue peaking out to kick his plump lips.

“Wh - ” you swallowed a heavy lump of air, looking away from him, “No,” tears streaming down your face.

He chuckled, licking a firm stripe up your cheek, moaning at the taste of your tears. “We’ll fix that tonight, princess.”

You shuddered in his hold, it finally hit you. He intended to have his way with you. “Karen!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“She’s not home, sweetheart,” he smirked, pushing his knee between your legs, “I thought you wanted this? I heard you saying my name while touching yourself. I’ll do better than your little fingers ever could,” he grinded his knee against your core.

You whimpered, scared out of your mind for your life and ashamed. Ashamed of being caught, of being aroused and getting more and more wetter. Your hips rolling against his knee to seek more friction.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth till it hurt and then releasing it with a pop. “If you keep being good and take what I give you - I’ll make you feel good too.” He held on to your forearm, dragging you up the stairs towards his room.

“No, no... not in your room. In mine, please,” you whimpered, his nails digging in the flesh of your arm. They might have an 'arrangement' but you doubted Karen would appreciate you doing the deed in her bed.

“Fine with me,” he dragged you along, locking your door behind him as he pushed you down on your mattress.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, quickly discarding all his clothes. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and abs. He was bigger than any boy you knew. Your jaw dropped at the size of his cock, slapping against his abdomen when he pulled down his boxers.

“Like what you see, princess?” he smirked.

Hovering over you, his hands tearing your dress apart, you feebly tried to stop him, “That was expensive, Ransom!”

“I can just buy you another one,” he winked, rolling your panties down your legs.

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, with my own money.

Your arms flew up to your naked chest and mound, to cover up and save your modesty.

He growled, pulling them away and pressing them on the mattress above you. “These better fucking stay here all night, understood?”

You were too afraid to do anything but nod.

“Never popped anyone’s cherry before... this should be interesting,” he snaked a hand between your bodies, pinching your clit causing you to jerk away from him.

He didn't bother fingering you or preparing you, he knew you'd be tighter without it - he had about enough of foreplay anyway.

“Please, be gentle,” you requested, looking up at him through your doe eyes, pleading him - you had never felt so utterly helpless.

He cruelly laughed at your misery, his lips curled up in a devilish smirk, “I don't do gentle, kitten. You'll take what I fucking give you - ” he growled positioning himself between your legs, brushing his leaking tip over your chaste, untouched folds “and then thank me for it. Like the slut you are.”

You couldn't even begin to grasp or point out the logical fallacy of a virgin slut as his cock plunged into your heat, piercing through your virginity, splitting you in half.

Your back arched off the bed, you slapped your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming. It was painful, that was all you felt - pain. As he held onto your waist, his fingers digging in your flesh, his hips pulling out and then driving into you with an unrelenting pace.

You could not stop crying, or twisting your head from side to side. Knowing it was all you could do - he wouldn’t stop - no matter how much you pleaded. You weren’t sure you wanted him to stop.

He pressed a few kisses and nips to the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot as you held back a moan.

He propped himself up on his elbows to look down at you, your eyes and nose swollen, your make up running down your face - you looked more beautiful than you ever had before.

“You look so pretty when you cry, kitten,” he cooed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

He kept driving his cock into you, searching for that special spot as you kept mewling under him.

His heart swelled with pride, nobody’s ever fucked you before, he’s the first man that’s ever seen you naked or to be inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” he stilled his hips, “Just say the word then.��� He knew you wouldn’t.

You sniffled, shaking your head, “No, keep going, please.”

His lips curled up in a grin, taking some kind of twisted pleasure in your misery, “You’re something else, kitten.”

“Oh,” you closed your eyes, your toes curling, your legs holding onto his waist as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you.

Ransom leaned over you when he felt your heat convulsing around him, pulling your earlobe between his teeth, “This is the tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked,” he grunted, driving each word home with a powerful thrust. “You like that, kitten?”

All you could do was nod, the pain was well as much more subdued now but you were still sore and exhausted. “Yes, I like it.”

“We’re going to do this every night from now on.”

He pulled out fisting his cock over you - he wasn’t going to impregnate his newest plaything - his white, hot spend painting your stomach and titts.

Your fingers swirled the sticky substance around on your skin, you were curious to see what it tasted like. You clenched your legs shut, your pussy still tingly. This was not how you planned your first time to go but you had no regrets.

You knew you were absolutely wrong to think so but being desired by Ransom gave you a strange kind of pride.

You gasped when you heard a click, sitting up on your elbows you looked at Ransom clicking pictures of your pussy with his phone.

“Wh - what’re you doing?” you tried to close your legs but he kept a firm hand on your knee.

“Just need a souvenir,” he responded, taking some more of his cum on your body and then putting his phone in his pocket. He swirled a finger around the blood on your inner thigh, bringing it up to paint the crimson on your mouth, “Go clean yourself up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You smiled as he kissed you, “Okay, Ransom.”

Even with your pussy freshly fucked - you couldn’t wait for his next visit.

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Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[robininthelabyrinth]

Unfettered - part 2 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr part 1

It’s time. Come back.

Awareness came slowly and fitfully.

His body felt heavy, weighed down - it was as if his spirit had gone roaming freely and returned only reluctantly, sinking back into the skin and bone and flesh that bound it, the return voluntarily but begrudging, like an ox submitting to the yoke or a donkey to its bridle. There were times when he was there, awake but unable to get up the strength even to open his eyes, only barely aware of the world around him in the murmur of voices, the smell of food, the consistent feeling of spiritual energy being transferred into his body. There were times he was not awake at all.

One day, he heard a child laugh.

That was strange enough to catch his attention – it had been a long time since there were children here in the place where he slept, a place so familiar to him that he could feel where he was in his bones.  It had been even longer since there were children who laughed.

It’s time. Wake up.

He did not wake all at once. It was a gradual process, slow – he had to struggle against the infinite heaviness of his eyelids, the sopor that kept trying to steal him back into the dark, but he did struggle. He tried, he strained, he pushed, he forced.

He summoned the rage that was his birthright and said to his body, we have been friends these many years, I have honed you as I did a beloved blade, you will not stand in my way in this.

He woke.

A child was laughing.

“Be careful, A-Song,” a voice, unfamiliar to him but gentle, said. It was male, young, and kind. He thought perhaps he had expected someone else. “Remember, you must not disturb the array.”

“I won’t touch it, gege,” the child said cheerfully. “I’ll be good, and then A-Ling will come visit us!”

“When he can, A-Song. It may not be for a while, because of the war…”

A weight settled on his chest at the word – war – and he almost lost his will to wake, not wanting to return to everything that word entailed: the pressure of all the expectations that rested on his shoulders, the stress and fear of the decisions he was forced to make, the guilt at each life lost and the butchers’ bills that piled up on his desk, the exhaustion and pain that followed the slog of life at the battlefront, adrenaline melting away to leave him feeling vacant and empty…

Duty was duty, though. Even in war.

Especially in war.

He forced his eyes open, staring at the ceiling for long moments as the noises of a child playing continued around him, the soft voice alternatively praising and gently chiding him. After a while, his gaze stabilized enough for him to recognize that above him was his own ceiling in his own room in his own home.

He could always tell, thanks to the drawings right above his face – his brother had once insisted on sitting on his shoulders while he stood on the bed so that he could reach the ceiling to carve something into the wood and stone. Something that would make him smile every morning that he opened his eyes, his brother claimed, his own eyes curved into a smile of his own, and he had never been able to resist his little brother anything that would make him happy.

He swallowed several times, wetting his throat, and asked in a voice little better than a rasp, “How goes the war?”

He meant where is my brother, is he well, is he whole, he meant what has happened to my sect, he meant what has happened to me. But duty called, and so he asked instead – how goes the war.

It helped, he supposed, that the words were familiar on his tongue, even as his throat and lips ached the strain of having to speak for the first time in what must have been a while. How goes the war – it had been his watchword for years now, all throughout the Sunshot Campaign and even before, the first question in the morning and the last question at night. How goes the war.

“Gege! Gege!” the child shrieked. “He said something!”

“No, I – but…did… – Sect Leader Nie…?” The unfamiliar voice was deeply surprised, almost shockingly so – how long had he been asleep? “Sect Leader Nie, did you say something? Please confirm.”

Sect Leader Nie.

Yes, that was how they called him. That was who he was: Sect Leader Nie, Chifeng-zun. 

Nie Mingjue.

He had forgotten it, for a moment, the name and the weight of it, all the responsibilities that went with it, but now he remembered.

Nie Mingjue struggled to force himself up on his elbows, trying to look further around the room – it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, harder than moving through waist-deep muck through a swamp, which he’d also done, more than once.

As he’d expected, there was a man there, and a child. Both were unfamiliar to him, he thought, even if he did not entirely trust his memory at the moment. They were both gaping at him.

Well, gaping at his general direction, in the case of the man. He was dressed in white, like the Lan sect did, but the narrow band of white that they had in common encircled his eyes, not his forehead – he was blind.

No, Nie Mingjue was sure of it now: this man was totally unfamiliar to him.

The child was, too, but that was less of a surprise, given that he was only two or three at the utmost, the age children changed the most, and after all Nie Mingjue had been away fighting the wars for several years; it was reasonable not to recognize him. 

But a man he did not recognize, here, in his own bedroom..?

“The war,” he rasped again, and swallowed to try to clear his throat. That was the only thing he could think of that might explain it. “My brother…?”

“Oh,” the man said, not especially intelligently. “The Pallbearer isn’t here – he’s away. There’s a war.”

The – what?

Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes and forced them to focus, realizing that what he had taken for a man was little more than a teenager, certainly younger than twenty. Old enough to fight in the war, regrettably, but he supposed the blindness might keep him from it. It was sometimes hard to tell, with cultivators, how much they would be impacted by something like that.

“My brother,” he insisted. He wasn’t dead; what did he care about where some pallbearer - technically, the phrase meant ‘virtuous mourner’, or possibly ‘person whose virtue is in their mourning’, but either way it was a strange appellation - was? What he wanted was – “My brother.”

The child had been hiding behind the young man in white, but he popped his head around to stare at him, tugging at the young man’s robes. “Isn’t he Nie-er-ge’s brother?”

“Yes, he is,” the man said automatically, then flushed, ducking his head. He was very handsome, almost pretty, and at some point when Nie Mingjue didn’t feel like drowning in his own exhaustion he would spare a bit more time to wondering why he had been left here at his bedside, whether it was because he was the only one who could be spared or if it was for his own protection or both. “Ah, forgive me, Sect Leader Nie, of course you wouldn’t – your brother is away at the moment, but I will send him word at once. He’ll be so happy to hear that you’ve awoken.”

Nie Mingjue let himself slide back down from his elbows, his most severe worry assuaged – Nie Huaisang was alive, he was fine, he was safe. That was good.

Now he could concern himself with the war, he supposed. Although…

“Wasn’t the war…over?” he asked the ceiling. He thought he remembered that it was, the vague memories of seeing Wen Ruohan’s body hit the floor burnt into his brain as if with a brand – it was so different from what he had dreamt of for so many years that he thought it must be true. And with Wen Ruohan dead, his sons dead, who would continue to fight? Some small pockets of the truly devoted, maybe, but surely not the bulk of the forces…?

He didn’t remember. There was something there just beyond his memory, and he was abruptly struck with the feeling that he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

There was a whisper of cloth, the man beside him shifting from side to side in awkwardness. Probably trying to decide if he should stand here and answer questions or go to send out the alert about his reawakening at once.

“You are correct, Sect Leader Nie,” he finally said. “The Sunshot Campaign ended…it’s a new war.”

A new war, Nie Mingjue thought, and closed his eyes for a brief moment to stave off the pain of it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t discussed the possibility that something like that would happen with his sect’s elders during his war counsels, the fact that wrecking the established system of the Five Great Sects might lead to a power vacuum and more fighting, but the alternative of submitting to Wen tyranny had been worse; they had had no choice but to hope that their worst fears would not come to pass.

In vain, it seemed.

“I should – go tell someone,” the young man said. “I’ll go –”

“Go,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Return after, and then you can…what’s your name, anyway?”

“Xiao Xingchen,” the young man said. “Disciple of Baoshan Sanren…you wouldn’t have heard of me. Your brother took me in after I lost my eyes.”

Baoshan Sanren? Another disciple of the immortal mountain? Surely Nie Mingjue would have heard of something like that happening – it would have been the talk of the cultivation world, ongoing war or no. But he hadn’t heard anything, and this Xiao Xingchen fellow didn’t expect him to. And that meant…

“How long have I slept?” he asked. No, not asked. Demanded.

“Oh, I definitely can’t answer that one,” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding genuinely distressed. “I’m going to go get someone who can.”

He dashed out of the room in a swirl of white that Nie Mingjue saw out of the corner of his eye. A moment later, he heard a small shuffling sound and, with a slight groan, lifted himself back up again to look at the child, who had lingered even after his guardian had departed.

The boy was wearing Nie colors in familiar styles – Nie Mingjue thought it might even be some of Nie Huaisang’s old clothes, which he’d found himself unable to throw away even after they’d long been outgrown. He’d ultimately ordered them to be stored in hopes of preserving it for the next generation - his son, or maybe his nephew.

The shape of the boy’s face wasn’t remotely Nie, though, so he thought perhaps he might be an orphan or something. Another person his brother had taken in, perhaps, the way he had the blind Xiao Xingchen?

Had his brother been forced to run the sect while he slept? He must have. That had been what Nie Mingjue had always intended for him, wanting his brother’s cool head to guide the next generation, but he had not thought that it would be so soon…he thought he would have time to help guide Nie Huaisang into being sect leader, to ease the way, to show him how things were done and what was important. To let him become the wonderful sect leader Nie Mingjue had always been sure he would be, the one their sect deserved –

He’d wanted to make the transition less abrupt than his own elevation to the position at his father’s death, to make sure the position of sect leader didn’t consume Nie Huaisang as it had Nie Mingjue, who didn’t have any hobbies or pastimes except for spoiling his little brother, Nie Mingjue who barely remembered what or who he was outside of the work he did.

He’d wanted to leave Nie Huaisang to govern their sect through a world of peace, not war.

Clearly he’d failed.

Despite these gloomy thoughts of his, he tried to smile at the child. “Hello,” he said. “Your name is – A-Song?”

The child nodded, edging closer – closer, but not too close, and the reason for his hesitation was clearly, upon further inspection, that he didn’t want to cross over onto the lines of the complicated array painted onto the ground around the bed. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen it before, and he didn’t recognize it.

“What’s that for?” he asked, nodding at the softly glowing lines, which he could feel were full of spiritual power.

“It’s to make you feel better,” A-Song answered promptly in the know-it-all tone of a child who had clearly asked a similar question in the past. “Nie-er-ge repaints it all by himself every week, Xiao-gege helps keep it running, and I help, too!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! I’m the – the – I make it less boring!”

“Ah, I see! You’re the entertainment? That’s a very important job.”

A-Song nodded so rapidly that Nie Mingjue was slightly worried his head would come tumbling off his shoulders, and he had to suppress a smile at the sight. He’d always liked children, and this one seemed…strangely familiar, for all that Nie Mingjue was sure A-Song wasn’t a Nie.

“What’s your surname?” he asked, and A-Song frowned, scuffling one foot behind the other. “Don’t you know?”

“I know!” A-Song exclaimed. “It’s Jin! I’m Jin Rusong!”

Nie Mingjue could feel his eyes going wide in surprise, surprise and even shock that stabbed deeply into him. Ru- was the next generation’s name for the Jin sect, following after Zi- for the current generation and Guang- for the previous one – there had been much discussion of that towards the end of the last war, as it had been a clear insult framed as a compliment when Meng Yao had been offered the name of Jin Guangyao so shorty after the Nightless City.

Meng Yao -

The Nightless City, Wen Ruohan, Meng Yao…

Nie Mingjue remembered.

How could he not? In his memory, it had been only a few weeks before.

They had been mopping things up in the aftermath of Wen Ruohan’s death, and Nie Mingjue had been absent without leave from the medical tent more often than not, unable to refuse the calling of his duty even though his health (and any number of his subordinates) demanded he rest and recover. It hadn’t been easy: his mind had still been fuzzy from the aftereffects of the torment he’d suffered in and after Yangquan, the torture on the way to Wen Ruohan’s palace and again within it. The dizziness had impeded his ability to work, causing him to lose track of time or to grow abruptly distant and forgetful.

At the time, it had seemed that everything he remembered was unreliable – he’d thought, at first, that Meng Yao had done certain terrible things while he was in the Sun Palace, truly terrible and unforgivable things, the sorts of things that would make Nie Mingjue obligated to denounce him and Meng Yao worthy only of execution no matter what his good deeds might have been. But Meng Yao had said he was misremembering, that it hadn’t happened that way at all, that his mind was damaged from the torture and the fight with Wen Ruohan, and Lan Xichen had vouched for Meng Yao with all sincerity.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t been sure at first, had been so certain that he was right, that he remembered correctly and that Meng Yao was simply lying to him, but they had both seemed so sincere…and in the end Nie Mingjue hadn’t really wanted to believe that Meng Yao would do things like that anyway. He hadn’t wanted to think that someone he trusted would do that, that he’d so misjudged him. And that had made it – not easy, no, but it had made it make sense to accept their version of events over his own, even if it made him sick and anxious to think that his mind was so unreliable and untrustworthy.

Still, accepting it had meant that Nie Mingjue could agree to swear brotherhood with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao, as they both wanted so very much. It meant he could congratulate Meng Yao when he received the letter indicating that he would soon be his father’s recognition and the name Jin Guangyao. It meant that he could invite him to dinner at his camp to raise a glass together in honor of his accomplishment, to wish him good fortune and the best of luck for his new life.

It meant that when, in the middle of their dinner together, the wonderful news came that Nie Fengjun and Nie Xiaopeng had survived their injuries at the Nightless City, the ones that had kept them bedridden for so long getting infusions of spiritual energy and being fed drugs to keep them asleep so that they didn’t tear their throats open again by trying to talk, he could smile at Meng Yao – no, Jin Guangyao, he had tried very hard to remember to call him that and had still mostly failed – and tell him with joy that there were two deaths he no longer had on his conscience. 

He could ask him to wait a while when he went to talk to them, promising to return soon.

It meant that he could take a few steps towards the door, Baxia far away on her stand and not in his hand, his back unguarded against the man who had sworn before all the world to be his brother.

It meant that he could feel the cold string of the garotte when it settled over his throat and pulled tight, cutting off his air – that he could hear the humming of a Lan battle-song in his ear, the spiritual energy that he had been freely sharing with Meng Yao only moments before suddenly turned against him and starting to riot inside of him – the weakness inherent in his blood, the ancestral Nie tendency towards qi deviation, abruptly pressed upon and galvanized from within –  

If you yell, the first person through the door will be your brother and I will gut him like a fish, Meng Yao had hissed in his ear, and Nie Mingjue had stopped struggling for just a moment, horrified by the thought.

Horrified at being attacked by someone who knew his most dangerous weaknesses.

By someone he trusted.

The pause had been a mistake, of course. There’d been poison on the garrote, he thought, and the battle song and his rioting qi had let it in easier than it might have otherwise.

Meng Yao really was a perfect assassin.

But why me, why now, I don’t want to go so soon, I haven’t even had a chance to live yet, he remembered thinking, more fear and hurt than anger, and then there was nothing but darkness.

And now –

And now there was a child called Ru-, the next generation down from Zi-, and he was already two or three of age.

“How long have I slept?” he demanded, struggling to sit up. “How long has it been? Huaisang!”

How long have I abandoned you?

Xiao Xingchen ran back into the room not long after, looking horrified by Nie Mingjue’s burst of temper, pointless and impotent as it was. “Sect Leader Nie, please calm yourself,” he exclaimed. “I’ve already sent word out, and I’m sure your brother will be here soon. Please, stop moving – don’t damage the array…!”

Nie Mingjue forced himself to calm, his fingers digging into the bedding as he fought to control his temper –

Now is not the time.

– but he finally managed with a few deep breaths to stop feeling as if he was drowning in dark thoughts, in fears, in horror at himself and what he had inadvertently allowed, at what he had lost.

A few breaths later, and he stopped struggling.

At that point, it occurred to him that something was strange.

Based on his experience with being injured, and with his warlike sect he had plenty of that, Nie Mingjue would have expected that a fit like the one he had just had would have meant that he’d be swarmed by doctors. That was what was usual for this sort of situations, a giant bevy of doctors always just a few steps away, standing at the ready to force opinions down his throat about what he should and shouldn’t be doing – that had been what it had been like with his father, at least at first, and then later on it had been something he had been forced to accustom himself to as sect leader.

(First rule of being sect leader: don’t get knocked unconscious if at all possible. Not because the sect won’t manage without you, but because you’ll have to deal with doctors fussing at you for ages thereafter.)

Strangely enough, though, this time the doctors didn’t come. It was only Xiao Xingchen, dropping down to survey the array with his fingers, murmuring and infusing it with bright and pure spiritual energy that Nie Mingjue could feel soaking into his meridians, into his bones and muscles and bones.

Presumably this was the reason his body had not atrophied, in the – it must have been years since he –

He took another deep breath.

“Forgive me,” he said to Xiao Xingchen, and then again to Jin Rusong, who was hiding behind something. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Jin Rusong said with a great deal of grace, and probably too much equanimity for someone his age. “I don’t mind. It happens.”

To so easily disregard such a show of temper suggested that the boy had either had a hard early life or very calm parents, or maybe both. Nie Mingjue did not like to think of it, although he himself had been quickly inured to such things, after his father…

Best not to think about that. Best not to think about how it might have – what might have happened to him, after Meng Yao’s surprise attack.

(He hoped that he had succumbed to the poison or the suffocation instead of the qi deviation, since Baxia had, he hoped, remained intact; he could not be sure of it, since the assassin had been Meng Yao, who had known how best to hurt him. He hoped that he did not linger - did not lose himself to rage - did not have to be put down - that Nie Huaisang had not had to make the choices he himself had long ago had to make.)

“You didn’t call for any doctors?” Nie Mingjue asked Xiao Xingchen, trying not to think about those foul memories and the dark suspicions that swirled in his mind.

“I have some medical skills,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Not…many, and not as many as I used to have, but some, if you’d like me to check you over?”

“I’m not concerned for me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. He’d propped himself up against the headboard, an activity that had drained most of his remaining energy. “I’m just – why didn’t you call any doctors?”

“Ah,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I see.”

“I’m glad that you understand,” Nie Mingjue said, eliding to mention the matter of sight. They were not on such familiar terms that he could make a joke over it, and it was clear from Xiao Xingchen’s occasional if very graceful clumsiness that the blindness was new. “Would you also like to elaborate?”

“Sect Leader Nie is off-limits to anyone without permission to enter,” Xiao Xingchen said, folding his hands in front of him. “Especially in the event that you wake up.”

“I understand,” Nie Mingjue said, and he did.

He had had some time to think about what had happened to him back then, about the timing of those two survivors from the Nightless City waking up and Meng Yao’s sudden attack – he still didn’t have any answers, didn’t understand why Meng Yao turned against him so suddenly, but he had his suspicions.

Suspicions - and regrets.

If he hadn’t chosen to believe Meng Yao over the evidence of his own eyes and ears, would he have ended up like this, leaving Nie Huaisang alone for years on end?

There wasn’t any point to that line of thinking, though. Might as well say that if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been conditioned for years and years by his sect to have a mortal fear of his own qi, filling him with terror that one day he would become like his father – sick, with a mind full of hallucinations tormenting him and leading him astray – then maybe he wouldn’t have been so ready to disregard his own perception in favor of another’s, and of course there was no one to blame for that.

“Your brother will be here soon,” Xiao Xingchen said. “And once he is, I’m sure he’ll want the doctors to look you over. It’s only, you understand, without him to supervise, he doesn’t – he –”

“He doesn’t trust anyone,” Nie Mingjue said, and felt a pang of grief. Nie Huaisang had always trusted more readily than he had, the extroverted younger brother to his introverted and even misanthropic elder. The differences between them had in large part been caused by Nie Mingjue’s elevation to sect leader – too soon, too fast – and the discomfort and distance that created between him and those he thought had been his friends. And now, to his regret, the position would have done its work on Nie Huaisang as well. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure if you do,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He trusts – quite a few people, I’d say. There’s his people in the sect, of course, his cousins and deputies and all that, but he’s also on very good terms with quite a lot of the cultivation world: Sandu Shengshou, Yiling Laozu, Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun…almost all the important people, really.”

Nie Mingjue noted the absence of Jin Guangyao’s name or title.

Good.

“It’s just – you’re very important to him. More than you might think.”

“I raised him,” Nie Mingjue said. “From the time he was a child, he was my only family. The only things I had in life were my sect and him, and even my sect I wouldn’t have placed above him, and he knew it – I think I understand my importance to him. It’s the same for me, with him.”

“Perhaps,” Xiao Xingchen said, looking wistful. “Perhaps. That does explain rather a lot, I think.”

Nie Mingjue made himself more comfortable. “Who’s the child?” he asked. “He said he was surnamed Jin, but I assume the Jin sect is who we’re at war with?”

“You’re very perceptive,” Xiao Xingchen remarked. “How did you know?”

“The seeds of a new war can be found in the end of the last one,” Nie Mingjue said. “It would have always been the Jin sect. I’m surprised that it actually came to a head so soon, that’s all – they’ve always preferred being subtle and sly, politicking to outright fighting. I wouldn’t have thought they’d declare open war.”

“Why do you assume they were the ones who’d declare war?”

Because of who was left behind, Nie Mingjue thought. Lan Xichen who tries to see the good in everyone, Jiang Cheng who is insecure about what he can and cannot be, Wei Wuxian with his armies of the dead that he so very clearly never wanted…and my brother, who knows better.

My brother, who loves peace and hates war the way only a child born into the thick of it would; my brother, who’s so terribly clever underneath all his laziness; my brother who knows that war is fought as much in the hearts of men as on the battlefield –

No, he wouldn’t be the one to declare war.

Not even for me.

“Weren’t they?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Although in fairness, they were provoked.”

Nie Mingjue was sure they were. His brother, probably, or maybe Wei Wuxian – they were good at provocation. They could find something that even the Jin sect couldn’t tolerate.

From the way Xiao Xingchen turned his head towards Jin Rusong, an instinctive gesture for all that he couldn’t see the boy, it might have something to do with him. A small child surnamed Jin, and yet embarrassed to admit it…there was a story there that he would eventually need to learn.

Just as he would eventually need to ask the practical questions – questions like who’s leading the war effort, since Jiang Cheng was good at battle but shit at strategy, Wei Wuxian who was too reckless and reliant on flashy tactics that wore him out, Lan Xichen who was better as a courier than a general, Lan Wangji who was too independent, a lone wolf who’d never learned how to compromise enough to join a team, how are we paying for it, the eternal question of supply even more critical for three weakened Great Sects when set against the richest of them all, and of course how can I help.

But he was tired, and did not ask. He would gather the energy for war later. 

For now, he would be satisfied with something simpler, more straightforward: his brother’s well-being, confirmed not merely with words but by his own eyes, which he really ought to learn to trust.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before there was a noise outside the door, and Xiao Xingchen brightened in evident relief. “He’s here! A-Song, come with me, come say hello –”

They went out, and a moment later, the door opened and Nie Huaisang walked in.

Attuned as Nie Mingjue was to movement, that was the first thing he noticed: that his brother walked differently than he had before. It was more purposeful, striding rather than ambling, sharp, with as little wasted movement as possible – angry, always angry, but contained. It was not at all what he thought of when he thought of Nie Huaisang, who was usually more aimless and carefree, limbs tumbling everywhere; it was far more similar to the way Nie Mingjue used to carry himself, seemingly relaxed but in fact on guard against the world at all moments.

Nie Huaisang’s face, too, was different than Nie Mingjue remembered it being: it was thinner, sharper than it had been, with narrowed eyes and lips pressed together, his whole demeanor distrusting and forbidding. The last bits of baby fat had melted away, taking with it the impression of softness and tenderness that he had once exuded, the lazy and indolent air that had made him seem younger than he was.

No longer was he the feckless young man the Nie Mingjue had so carefully protected from the horrors of the world, and the thought sent a pang of pain through Nie Mingjue’s heart.

And yet, when Nie Huaisang walked into the room, looking irritated and exhausted, and his gaze fell upon the bed where Nie Mingjue had lain for longer than he cared to think about, when he saw Nie Mingjue propped up and awake, when their eyes met for the first time –

It all melted away, the child he had held in his hands abruptly recognizable once more.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed, and threw himself forward into Nie Mingjue’s waiting arms, heedless of the array that Xiao Xingchen has so worried himself over, heedless of the shocked expression on both Xiao Xingchen and Jin Rusong’s faces, heedless any residual injuries in his urgency. “Da-ge!”

All the questions Nie Mingjue had, and he had a lot – who is the Pallbearer what is the war who is fighting who have we lost what happened to me what happened to you – dashed out of his head at once.

There was only one question that mattered – are you safe – and the answer to that was in his arms. He clutched his baby brother to his chest with all his greatly diminished strength, tears springing to his eyes just as they filled Nie Huaisang’s, and they wept with joy to see each other again.

It’s time. At last.

[littlebird616]

We're more alike than you think - The Book

sooooo, i'm writing a fanfic based on tfatws, and i thought why not post a few bits and bops here on tumblr. if you wanna read the full fanfic check out @littlebird616 on wattpad <3

Summary: You are helping Sam and James out on their mission. Zemo got an eye for you and catch you looking at his book.

Word count: 718

Warnings: It get's a lil bit hot and touchy, and a pet name, but nothing more really.

It was first now that Zemo was quiet you had a question you wanted to ask him. It was a very simple question really, just where the heck are we going? You don't know if he deliberately didn't tell us the place this Selby woman was located or if he just forgot. Anyway, it irritated you that you couldn't prepare yourself for what was coming. The only thing you knew was that this couldn't be in Europe because of the flight time, which was a relief. Your eyes turned from the window to Zemo's book, trying innocently to get a glimpse of what this guy was reading.

"Do you want me to read for you? I think you would love this book."

It didn't even take seconds before he caught you looking. You rolled your eyes at him and leaned back in your seat. You had a discussion with yourself, did you wanna play along and see where this was going? Or just keep shut? You didn't know how much more time you had on the flight so you chose to give in. In many ways, this was a form of entertainment "I don't even know what you are reading." you mumbled and tried to look like you weren't really interested.

"Das Nein in der Liebe: Abgrenzung und Hingabe in der erotischen Beziehung" by Peter Schellenbaum.. It's about delimitation and surrendering in a erotic relationship..How progress of love relationships from the beginning, with all the enthusiasm and unbound hope, through to the skrinking back to normality.. where there's less excitement to explore each other... I think you would like this. "

Your eyes popped out. Hearing Zemo talk so eagerly about this subject made you slightly at unease, just hearing him say the word.. erotic.. made you.. feel a certain way you weren't comfortable with right now. This man, Baron Helmut Zemo had been in prison for 8 years, nearly 9 and this was the first book he chooses to pick up after breaking out of prison.. an erotic relationship advice book. You moved a little bit in the seat, searching for words to say. Zemo enjoyed this, seeing how you reacted to his words.

"I'm gonna have to turn that offer down. I'm not exactly the type for romance and I find these kinda books to be a bit... desperate." you said and tried to laugh it away. You couldn't even look at him without feeling shameful.

"Oh, really?" Zemo said with a smirk on his lips. He put a finger under your chin you nodded weakly. He couldn't help it but admire your face, it was so innocent.

"Just listen," he said and went back to a different page. He secretly put his hand on your thigh as he was holding the book. You knew you should've moved it the second it landed there, but you let it be. You could lie as much as you wanted to, but it felt good and he knew it.

"What ultimately motivates every love is the shadowy presentiment that one can become a new person through devotion and surrender to a Thou. That love often turns to hate does not contradict this assertion, but rather indicates the considerable difficulties that are bound up with the process of devotion and surrender to a Thou." he said with a gentle voice. He closed his book and looked over to you, waiting for your reaction.

You knew that Zemo was playing you, but what for was unknown. He was so gentle with his words, careful, something a man with history as his shouldn't be. You quickly looked away and out the window, giving yourself space to breath and collect yourself for a minute. You thought about what he said before you opened your mouth.

"What the book is saying, or what you are saying, is that to fall in love, you would have to surrender yourself to your partner? Right?" you said and looked back at him.

"Little bit more complex than that, but yes" he said and tried to read your face. You looked at him with a little smile "That's pathetic, I thought you were smarter than this Zemo." you said and moved his hand off your lap.

"Little bird, you still have much to learn"