#because team instinct is the greatest

[woso-dreamzzz]

Award II

Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader

Aitana Bonmatí x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You are finally rewarded for being the best

You don't play football for the fame.

You've never played football for fame or money or awards.

You play football because you love it.

It's been apart of your life for as long as you can remember. Your parents still have your first Wolfsburg kit, back when you were a baby and couldn't do anything but cry.

The fame, the money, the trophies all just came along with the sport you love.

The responsibility of carrying your country and your club doesn't weigh on you much, not when you have such passion for the game and your teams.

The first time you felt such responsibility was on your youth team, captaining them to a successful Under-17 Euros. Then, the responsibility was back at Barcelona. You were made the third captain after half a season back from your loan to Lyon.

When you left, the responsibility stayed, being made the sole captain for your country. You've spent a year at Wolfsburg now, the club of your childhood, and the band for your club wraps around your arm in preparation for next season.

Denmark Youth Captain.

Barcelona Third Captain.

Sweden Senior Captain.

Wolfsburg First Captain.

You didn't play football to become a leader but somehow you've become one, moving from yelling orders from your defence to yelling orders at the whole team.

You are an expert keeper. You always have been.

People around you say you've made your mark on the game and you haven't even retired yet. People look at you for what a keeper should be, for how a leader should act.

(People whisper that all keepers coming up the ranks now try to mimic your style, your natural instinct and abilities).

It's only inevitable that you have the trophy cabinet to back up your skill.

Two World Cups sit in your cabinet. Two Golden Gloves as well.

Multiple Keeper of the Year trophies.

An Olympic medal.

A Euros medal.

And then awards for at club level too.

Liga F, Copa de la Reina and Supercopa sit in the apartment you used to share with Natalia with a Première Ligue and Coupe de France medal too.

Your Champion's League medals sit with Natalia's on the wall.

Everything you won at Linköping and Arsenal are at home in Sweden whilst your most recent Bundesliga and DFB-Pokal medals are at your apartment in Germany.

You are the greatest goalkeeper playing in the women's leagues at the moment and, while you cannot see it, everyone else knows it.

You've come to the ceremony to eat some of the bar food and maybe see some of your old Lyon teammates.

Talia has come to the ceremony to see you make history.

Alexia and Aitana are the ones presenting the award and just from the way they're smiling, Talia knows the result.

You've been ranked highly ever since your first nomination. That time, you'd ranked eleventh. Every time after that, you've finished in the top ten.

Your name is called and the world stops.

You suck in a breath, frozen in your seat like you're in the Champion's League final with only a one goal lead and the other team advancing on your goal with lethal efficiency.

You don't know what to do. You don't know what to say.

Your wife allows your tuck your head into her neck, not flinching as your tears drip down onto her suit blazer.

"It's okay, baby," Talia says to you," You deserve this so much."

She helps you to your feet, hiding your face as you wipe your tears where cameras can't see.

You force yourself to walk up the stairs to the stage without stumbling. You suck in a breath.

There it is.

The most prestigious award in football.

It was a few years ago now that Talia won hers. She'd had a standout season during her first as Barcelona's captain. She was lethal on goal for club and country.

There was never any doubt it would be here.

That's the way it always is.

Everyone always expects a striker or a midfielder. Sometimes, it's a defender. It's never been a keeper though, at least for the women's.

Second goalkeeper in history.

First female goalkeeper in history.

Aitana is the one nearest to you.

You're taller than her by a lot, towering over her but she still hugs you like you were little, like you were still the little girl she met when hunting down Pernille's shirt.

One of her hands comes up to cup your cheek.

"You've grown up," She says and you force yourself not to cry," You're so big now."

Alexia is next. You last saw her a few weeks ago when you came back to Spain for the weekend and attended one of Talia's games. Alexia made you come down from the stands and asked about Wolfsburg and how your season was going.

She was all business then and you'd been as vague as possible, in case she remembered something that could be used against you during the next rounds of the Champion's League.

But now, there's no hint of professionalism in her eyes as she pulls you into a hug.

"I told you," She whispers," I told you that you'd get this one day. Remember this feeling, okay? There's nothing better in the world. There's no one better in the world."

She pulls away and hands you the award.

You turn to the cameras, to the audience all on their feet clapping you.

You lift up your Ballon D'or for all to see.

[tsxkkis]

omg omg can i request? pls ignore if you dont!

s3 of haikyuu will always be my favourite season, maybe due to the fact that tsukishima realizes his potential in playing volleyball? (him having his MOMENT is my favouriteee scene)

so could you write gf manager reader x tsukki, where reader witnesses him having his first moment (blocking ushijima's spike), injuring his hand etc etc up until they receive their throphy and medals in the end ?🥹🥹💕 shes a proudddd reader and literally just smooch smooch hug hug tsukki because hes the mvp of karasuno x shiratorizawa 🥰😤

i realized that theres nobody includes this scene in their fics and i wonder why? 🤔🧐

# tsukishima kei - mvp

a/n: i am terribly sorry anon bcs this took so long T-T i'm not quite sure about some parts of this fic but overall i really enjoyed writing this request!! tsukishima is my fav for many reasons, one of which being the fact that i see myself in him a lot, and the particular moment during the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match is also my fav from the entire series!! i hope u enjoy reading this fic^^ i feel like it's not exactly what you asked for, so i'm sorry if i went too far away from your idea....

summary: tsukishima finally regains his love for volleyball.

warnings: a few swear words here and there, the fic doesn't exactly portray what happened in the series (i switched it up a bit)

'are you stressed?'

'not even a bit.'

'you're lying. i can read you like a book.'

tsukishima kei let out a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he looked away from your face. you were obviously right; there was no way he wouldn't be stressed before the game that determined whether or not karasuno would go to nationals. as much as he hated to admit it, he was almost as stressed as others. he was just better at controlling which of his emotions are shown.

you squeezed his hand, his fingers instinctively intertwining with yours. all it took was a reassuring smile from you to help with his nerves, his muscles finally relaxing after being tensed up for the last twenty minutes or so. he still tried to get used to you being more than a friend. your relationship was quite awkward and fresh, so much so in fact that you never even had your first kiss yet.

'i'm sure you'll do great.' you stated calmly, trying to hide the fact that you were even more stressed about the match than him. 'in fact, i'm positive that you'll win.'

'even if we do, it won't be because of me.' he mumbled, letting out a silent laugh when he saw the angry look on your face. 'oh, come on. it's not like i'm the greatest player this team has.'

'you know i hate it when you talk down on yourself.' you said, the tone serious and sharp, rather unusual for you. it stayed like that for only a short while, taken over by a softer, understanding one. 'you're a vital part of this team, tsukishima. winning this match is not up to a single person. it's a team effort. your input is as important as that of kageyama or hinata.'

he opened his mouth to say something but was instantly stopped by the voice of his captain, daichi, calling the team up to quickly warm up as the match was about to start.

you smiled at the boy, letting go of his hand before lightly patting him on the back.

'do your best for me, alright?'

'i will.' a barely noticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand affectionately ruffling your hair. 'don't worry too much about it.'

you finally realized why tsukishima kei never tried more. why he would never stay longer like other karasuno players to polish his skills, why he didn't truly seem to love the sport he chose to play in high school.

'you're insufferable, you know?' his words sent shivers down your spine. 'why don't you leave it the fuck alone?'

opposite forces, some might say. no one really knew what drew you and tsukishima to eachother - both of you completely different from one another, and yet oh so similar at the same time. frustration took over you every time you looked at him, and now you knew why.

he was like a mirror in which you could see all your flaws, and it irritated you a great deal.

his outlook on life and the way he viewed himself made you furious. how can someone be so full of contradictions? so cocky and confident, and yet so vulnerable and self depreciating at the same time. so full of himself and yet so hateful towards the person he saw in the reflection of every window, every mirror.

how can someone so great at what they do, so intelligent and talented, be so critical?

'because i can't! i can't leave it alone, you absolute moron.' the thought of how loud you were didn't stop you from continuing to shout, a mixed look on your face that tsukishima couldn't quite decipher. were you angry or sad? and why the hell would it bug you so much to evoke such strong emotions within you?

'you're saying i'm insufferable? from the moment i laid my eyes on you, you've been nothing but insufferable. so much so, that i want to gouge them out every time they spot you.' you ignored your watery eyes and tsukishima's surprised face, almost as if he didn't expect you to blow up like this. 'it pains me to see you be so full of doubt and hatred and i- i can't understand why you would think so lowly of yourself, why you feel inferior to the other guys in every way possible, when you could be so much more than them. do you even realize your potential, tsukishima?'

he stayed silent. for the first time since knowing you, tsukishima kei did not have an answer to your words.

'your doubts are so irrational i don't know if it makes me angry or sad. you're truly incredible on the court. you're intelligent, you can read the opponents well, you have the physical predispositions for volleyball and a natural talent that you choose to ignore because-'

'but what is talent without passion?'

that singular sentence managed to catch you off guard so much you had no idea how to answer him. such a simple question, and yet such a philosophical, confusing one.

'why should i put my all into something i'm not even passionate about, huh?' tsukishima tried to keep his composed nature, but it was hard to stay intact after what you've said. as much as he did not want to admit it, your words hit him deeply. 'why waste my time and energy for something that does not give me any satisfaction at all? tell me that, because i have no fucking idea.'

'passion is not something that dissapears once and never shows up again, you idiot.' you took a step closer, as if that was going to help you get your point across. 'if your passion is genuine, it will always be there. whether small or big, it will always crawl around in the back of your mind. if you ever truly loved volleyball, the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.'

your words were met with complete silence, but you didn't mind. tsukishima slowly processed your words, a focused look gracing his face, lips in a tight line. even though it was only a couple of minutes, for you it felt like hours - awaiting an answer, any answer at all.

tsukishima moved closer, his tall frame hovering over you as he wrapped his arms around you, catching you in a tight hug, much to your surprise.

'thank you.' he mumbled quietly, glad that in this very moment you couldn't see his face, and the stupid smile plastered to it.

the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.

tsukishima's mind lingered over these words whenever he played, awaiting this moment to come almost eagerly. the match was particularly hard - with ushijima wakatoshi as their opponent, the chances of winning were incredibly slim. every spike of his went through the block, his serves were absolutely killer, and his teammates did everything to deliver the ball to him at all costs.

what a hassle.

you noticed that his demeanor on the court changed from what it used to be. tsukishima seemed more invested now - almost as if he was trying to impress you, to keep his word. as happy as it made you, you were still anxious about the match and it's final score, hand shaky and a bit sweaty as your eyes followed the ball flying around from one side of the net to another.

another spike from ushijima, it'll probably be another point for shiratoriza-

and that's when you realized.

you saw the ball hit the ground on shiratorizawa's side of the net surprised gasps from everyone watching the match. you saw the shocked look on ushijima's face, the horror in the eyes of his teammates as the ball bounced off of the floor for the second, third, fourth time.

silence took over the court for just a mere second, quickly interrupted by tsukishima's triumphant scream.

he looked more than content with his performance. he looked... happy.

the rest of the boys joined him, screaming in unison. it was just one point, right? but for some reason, for both you and tsukishima, this one was worth a thousand.

for the first time in years, tsukishima kei felt that his spark for volleyball came back.

you noticed that his eyes were now focused on you, a full, cheeky smile gracing his face, and it only made you tear up. a short moment, probably insignificant for people around, but for the two of you it was like a breath of fresh air, like getting rid of the shackles that once held you in place, enabling you from moving forward.

'y/n, are you... alright?' coach ukai looked with his brows slightly furrowed, confused by your teary eyes and big grin plastered to your face.

'yeah, yeah, i'm fine. sorry, coach.' you mumbled, bowing a little as your eyes focused on the court. 'actually, could kiyoko replace me here for the rest of the match? i'm not quite feeling well.'

'tsukishima is injured.'

'what?' akiteru spoke in unison with you, terrified voices mixing together as you looked down from the stands to see the boy walking off of the court and rushing to the medical office along with kiyoko. your instincts took over you - feet moving on their own as you quickly ran towards the same place.

the two blondes followed right behind you, stopping only when in front of the door to the medical office, gasping for air after such a short run. as athletic as your boyfriend was, you were quite the opposite; getting tired after a little to no physical activity at times.

tsukishima saw your head peeking through the doorframe, a small smile on his face the moment he laid eyes on you.before you opened your mouth to say something, he already gave you an answer.

'yes, i feel fine.' he stated quietly, sitting down on the edge of a chair. 'you don't need to worry.'

'are you going back on court?' he only gave you a small nod in response, seemingly feeling better already as he stood up, his hand taped up.

you looked up at him, taking in the expression on his face, just how focused he already was. he looked almost as if he already had a plan to defeat shiratorizawa in this match. seeing him so eager to go back and play almost made you laugh a little - you swore you never saw him get this invested into something ever.

'go and win then.' you mumbled, patting him on the shoulder as he headed towards the gym hall.

'oh don't worry. we will.'

you couldn't stop the tears rolling down your cheeks as you saw karasuno emerge victorious from the hardest volleyball match they had to play this year, hugging yachi tightly as both of you celebrated the win of your team.

the triumphant screams filled the gym hall, the team emotional after doing what many deemed impossible. as most of them enjoyed themselves, not planning on leaving the euphoric state for a long while, tsukishima could only think of doing one thing - going to you.

you were the only person he truly wanted to celebrate with.

after the ceremony of getting the medals, to everyone's utmost shock, considering your relationship wasn't exactly public, tsukishima went up to you almost immediately, a cocky smile on his face as he ruffled your hair, looking down at you from behind his glasses.

'you didn't exactly look quite as content with your performance before getting the prize.' you mumbled, looking at the blonde haired boy with your head tilted to the side.

'well, i could've blocked more of ushijima's spikes.' he started, rolling his eyes at the sole idea of not being able to do that during today's match. 'i only managed to block one and-'

you decided to use the only method that was for sure going to shut him up in that moment, lightly grabbing him by the tshirt and pulling him closer, lips clashing for a split second in a short, sweet kiss.

'no talking down on yourself today, kei.' you said, unconsciously smiling as you saw his face getting red at what you just did, cheeks covered by a tomato-like red colour. 'i'm proud of you no matter what you think about today's match.'

he stood still for a few seconds, as if processing what had just happened seconds ago, the redness on his face deepening with each passing moment. his hand was quick to grab yours, almost dragging you away from the team and to a more private, less occupied area of the building.

'do that again.' he mumbled, after he finally led you to a quiet hallway.

'huh?'

'it was... nice.'

your eyes lit up, a cheeky smile gracing your face as you finally realized what he was on about.

'ohh, you want another kiss?' you said teasingly, eyes quickly glancing from his face down to his lips. he rolled his eyes, unamused by your act of playing dumb.

'come on, don't make me repeat myself.' still somewhat embarrassed of what he was asking for, tsukishima stood in one place, awaiting your next action.

a sigh left your lips as you took a step towards your boyfriend, standing on your tippy toes to be able to reach his face.

'alright. i guess you deserve it, match mvp.'

your arms were wrapped around his neck in no time as your lips gently touched his, tsukishima immediately kissing you back, hands positioned on your waist as you felt a smile creeping up on his face. he let out a short laugh, seeing your face being just as red as his was moments ago, hand reaching to squeeze yours.

'what?' you mumbled, as he hasn't spoken a word since breaking the kiss.

'that's surely the best prize i got today.'

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita

[court-jobi]

You're It For Me

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 4K

Rating: T+

Warnings: Pro-hero Bakugou/Pro-hero Reader, canon-typical aftermath, love confessions, light hurt/comfort, protective Bakugou is protective, bedsharing-not spicy (yet)

Summary:

Bakugou fears very little in this life- because he knows with you by his side, even fighting the worst of the worst villains is easier when you're on the other end of the line in his headset. But never one to let things go unsaid, he makes sure to cup the side of your face and tell you the greatest promise short of 'I love you' that he can before storming out for the mission: "You're it for me. Got that?" You have to swear it back every time, so he believes it. It's both a promise and a lifeline- especially when he hears the worst possible communique: that the team's lost visual of you.

A/N: my ao3 loves have encouraged this pairing to be something of a series, so maybe that's what this will become!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Beeping right into his left eardrum signals an incoming update through Bakugou’s earpiece, pinpointing the alert straight to the source over the raucous cheers of his thankful public. He’d taken on the ‘A’ grouping of villains, while you pursued ‘B’ as they made an escape from the scene. The ‘A’ punks were the ‘muscle’, but Dynamight was far stronger than any of them had anticipated. 

‘Pissy extras, you weren’t worth my time’, he’d touted when his good ole buddy Cellophane wrapped em up tight in a nice, neat bow. 

Bakugou might have celebrated this win a bit more with the crowd surrounding him, having caught the villain and was prepared to call it a day alongside Sero, ticking off another win tally in traditional, mega-blasty action… if not for the update coming through on his comms:

"We lost sight of Joyride- crash site at the industrial pylons at 6-5-2 and 6-5-7- Tightrope is-- confirmed; eliminated. Repeat, requesting visual of Joyride-"

Bakugou's soul drops to his gut. 

There was a crash and you were missing. Sero hears the same update and looks to Bakugou gravely- knowing full well who you are to him. Not just a teammate, but more, in every way.

Turning quickly from the gathering of people, Bakugou takes a one-armed leap from the side of the building and blasts off a slight cushion to his fall, then jogs towards the incoming transport with Jeanist's interns calling out for him to report back. He doesn't listen to any word of thanks as he marches to the transport. He's fueled by pure anxiety behind masked eyes, rage bubbling hot in his breath. He listens to his radio, and prays.

"--still no sight of- wait, wait! Joyride spotted! We have visual! Status? She alive? Affirmative, she's coming up over the edge- (laughs) I can't believe it, she chucked that eight-wheeler straight into it!"

Bakugou swallows, throat tight despite the relief.

"Ok Dynamight, off to rende with Joy–?-"

"YOU HEARD ‘EM, MOVE!"

Poor intern shutting right up and driving away, Bakugou shucks off his pauldrons and vambraces against his discipline that he should really keep em on until fully off duty, but with his protective instincts still in overdrive, he knows he's producing more than enough sweat should he be caught by surprise at this point in the aftermath. He's not going to need the extra firepower where he's going.

Screeching to a slowed approach, Bakugou can't wait the extra second to allow the van to come to a complete stop before he's chucking the door open and jumping past the cordoned off emergency vehicles assisting passersby. He shouts only briefly for 'making way', and people listen to the man on a mission. Calls of thanks fall to his deaf ears- by choice, this time.

From around the corner, he turns assessing the damage surrounding the crash site below. He spots Uravity already helping, and is grateful for her expertise while still set on recovering you.

There ahead -his angel in a leather jacket trudging up the off ramp with weary steps- is the sight he thanks every god in the heavens for. 

Bakugou stays his swearing out of sheer gratitude to not see copious amounts of blood draining your face; that sheen on you is just sweat as you’ve chucked your helmet off to breathe better. One look at you and it’s like no other day; you just look understandably tired and in want of a shower more than life. Your expression isn’t pained– just your usual distaste for incline treks by show of your flat, annoyed brows and mouth breathing. That look coming from a top 20 Pro Hero known for her stylish grace is funny- if only under different circumstances.

There's a crack in his voice as he shouts your callsign, but he's not ashamed of it; not with the punch of fear ripping the sound from him. He sets off in a run– straight to you.

You look up at the alarmed call. Dynamight is hurtling towards you, and you're just as relieved to see a sight for sore eyes. Seems the shock of what you just did catches up as you find renewed haste in leaving the smokey scene behind you. You pick yourself up into a jog with a delirious smile forcing its way onto your face.

In a span of a few seconds, Bakugou shoves up his protective face mask, catching your bounding self up into his arms, hugging you tight for two full, shaking breaths before pulling you into a fire-loaded, protective kiss.

Smokelines are smudged across his cheeks and burning tears lay built up at his lash line as he heaves grateful breaths in and out through his nose against your cheek. This kiss is tense, but needed. Without an ounce of regret, he keeps you painfully close. You held no less affection from him, your hands immediately grabbing for purchase on his nape, sweat-licked and all. You gasp for a breath with a laugh before he smashes his mouth across yours with tongue, messy and relieved and angry that something has scared him so bad.

Releasing your lips from his, he bumps his forehead to yours for a solemn few seconds to rein himself in.

He husks, "You good-?"

"Yeah."

"Not hurt?"

"Nah~"

"You swear."

You nod with your eyes still closed, breathing a quick answer before being given another couple hard kisses on your cheek. You're hugged tight again, swayed as he takes a couple traipsing steps with you in his arms. A heart-wrenching, gutteral sigh rasps from him, leaving you reeling as he holds you in sight of who knows how many. The fact that you're not alone in this moment is only a fleeting thought as your residual adrenaline causes you to shake- probably the reason why Bakugou is set on keeping a tight hold on you.

"I'm ok, Katsuki. M'okay-" you answer shakily, barely a whisper. You're convincing yourself under the guise of assuring him. It works, in a way.

"Thank fuck," he answers to your neck.

He’d done his part- you heard so on the coms once you found your dislodged helmet after you made a timed dismount off the bike before it careened you both off the exit ramp. It was then that you reactivated the jostled ‘live’ signal from your helmet and typed back the status code that you were alive. The mic had broken, or else you would have reported so yourself. 

But the fact remains, you haven’t told anyone reporting on the scene what you’ve seen- what you’ve done. You did stop the villain’s crew from taking what they’d stolen, but you’d effectively ended anyone else’s chances of recovering the files with the demolition site you’d essentially forced them into. The valued records didn’t fall in the wrong hands, certainly, and it’s an ultimate grace that no other civilian lives were lost, but you do think about how grim the scene looks at the bottom of the ramp. 

There’s no earthly way anyone could have survived that firefest. For some reason, the gravity of that fight grips you now. You’d almost joined them had you not thought hast enough.

"He's.. he's dead. Tightrope and them, the uh- runner. I hit 'em."

"Good. F’he wasn’t, I was gonna kill him myself."

You chuckle, despite the subject matter. Tired breaths still heave from you, coupled with the gentle relief of Bakugou’s supporting arms around you– bare arms you now notice are cannonless, as they set you fully down on your own.

"Oi, BACK IT UP!"

You realize there's a few reporting drones coming in at your back when Katsuki’s dominant hand lifts off of you to bat one away with a harmless smack on a lens; luckily Bakugou is already ushering you back to the van, keeping you ahead of him with a careful palm to your shoulder. He lets you lead towards shelter and a thorough once-over from the medic team for the shock. More grateful civilians cheer praises on both of you, especially your name since it was evidently shared by many as the saving agent of the day. 

Unlike your chilly counterpart, you did offer a wave and a reassuring, proud grin for those onlookers, but Bakugou knows your true feelings better as you grit through your teeth,

“Oh, yes please, photos. What I’d kill for a bath right now…”

After a ride back to the agency, you start to breathe normally again. On the bus where you’re  strapped up with a bp cuff monitoring your status, your care is complete with your hand in Bakugou's as he stands above you. He hovers even more after you hit the showers, dress down comfortably, and receive one of the highest compliments from your agency lead on your quick actions and limited infrastructure casualties. Finally, true ease in your tummy relaxes as you get a pass on submitting your report while in your current state until morning, and as you are given a lift back to the apartment complex-- of course, with Bakugou in tow.

It's the early morning hours when you are able to go lay down, the smallest change in the sky after the night’s darkest hour giving way to a persistent sun. It does little to threaten your desire to sleep though, with your protective boyfriend playing bodyguard keeping a hand on you at all times then offering to stay 'until you fall asleep'. 

You feel the safest you have in months that morning… 

When he follows your soft ask for him to see you safely upstairs, carries out his nighttime routine alongside yours, he does nothing more forward than wrap his entire body as close to you as possible. He kisses you goodnight with care and softness and just an edge of heat.

"You fucking scared me." Bakugou whispers into the quiet space you've created.

"I thought nothing scares you."

He huffs, but it's a sad, wet sound. "Tch, like hell it doesn't."

You're both quiet for a while after that, just relishing in your joint safety, touching each other to soothe the chills from within, soaking in his light presses to your forehead until he lays a kiss longer than the others–

"I love you so damn much," Bakugou rasps all in one go, "I love you."

 It's the first time he's said it, outright.

You'd thought you'd scream and kick your feet if he ever got around to saying what you already believed to be true. All you want instead is to absolutely melt into his skin and sob.

"HEY-" 

Bakugou called out to you at the start of all this in full, armored glory- nearly every bit of skin covered up in his winter suit while the dead of summer sun bears down. For this crazy mission, he’s been preparing all afternoon, ready to bring his all to the fight ahead. 

One word and you whip around before he yanks you into speaking range. He grounds you with a hand to your shoulder keeping you still- expecting him to say ‘be careful’, maybe even an extra ‘watch for those crackhead speed demons out there’. 

But with his commanding, brash voice on, you weren't sure what he'd say to you- not when he’s looking at you like that. 

"You-- y'better not pull anything stupid now," he stares you down with complete earnest, choosing words carefully because he figured you might be listened to on the team’s headsets.

Yet never one to let things go unsaid, he cupped the side of your neck for the next bit-

"You're it for me. Got that?"

Your azure-blazed helmet hid most of your face, so you smiled with your eyes so he could see that you agreed. You heard him loud and clear, and got his meaning entirely. 

You placed your hand in an 'i love you' sign on his chest before another call over the radio gave directions and pulled you both apart to look for the flare.

"-Got it,” you resolved while only giving him a second before you crafted a biped transitbike in record time with your quirk-  "Go kick some fuckin’ ass!" 

Heart zinging with motivation, you sped away- leaving Bakugou to cackle at your rare cursing and blowing his own way skyward and into his element.

Tipping your head up, you can barely find words with him looking at you like this. It’s the look from this morning all over again: a tight, straight-set scowl dead set on keeping himself from crying, hand sifted itself into your hair like you're going to be ripped from him in an instant, and soft eyes that are begging- a look you never thought you'd see from him.

You don't have it in you to tease him, or even be your trademark soft and demure to contrast his hard and offensive shell. No, you feel like doting on him when he's like this, because you know you’re the only one who sees him this way. This vulnerable, laid beside you with a weighted blanket on him to soothe his anxiety, too.  

So you promise your whole existence to him instead: a genuine word without fear of an audience.

"I love you, too. You’re it for me."

You sink in and out of sleep while he holds you like this. Though gratefully, he's out like a light after the last few kisses he laid on your head when you said it back-- like his spirit could finally rest knowing you believed the same.

You keep waking up in the night unsettled by some restless instincts left over from the night before. 

After twisting again and turning your neck to bleakly look at the light coming in, you heard his drowsy inhale bring out a grumbly moan,

"Go t'sleep."

'It's bright,' you say through your exhaustion, but it's evident that you're far too awake by your tone.

At this, you heave in surprise as Bakugou completely flips you onto the other side of him, tilting you with a palm until you turn the other way (towards the bathroom) and lie completely in his shadow. You check his face to see if he's upset at your waking him, but his eyes remain shut by sleep and are solely focused on blindly making sure you're completely locked in and comfortable in his arms, still.

It's thoughtful and strikes you sweetly, tucked back in his embrace again. You feel completely secure with his warmth flooding you at your back.

"Thanks."

Again, he simply whispers,

"mmm sleep f'me, 'ngel... I've gotcha."

A phone buzzes just minutes later, his. It's Kirishima- and like moth and flame they are for each other, Bakugou answers, tipping only onto his back so he’s barely moving from you. You still sleep through lightly and you hear him talking, but not each and every word fully.

Bakugou swiped up to answer the call, but didn’t deign a chipper welcome necessary.

"......hey uhhh Bakugou?"

"hmwhat."

"Are you still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"It's after 2pm, man! Thought you were dead to the world~"

"I am. Whaddya need."

"Well, just wanted to check on you man. I saw the fight last night, and I've tried calling Little Miss, too but she's not answerin’."

"Had the same night. She's 'sleep too."

"Eh, I shoulda figured. Looked like it took it out of you."

"Tch, wasn’t that hard."

Kirishima played into his mischievous lilt on his end of the line, 

"mmmm sure bout that? That uh, kiss, didn't look like ‘nothing’."

...Kirishima wasn't there. How would he have known you kissed?...

Bakugou wakes a little more. "Huh."

Kirishima burrs the speaker a little on the other line. Must be from him laughing through his nose knowing Bakugou's severe dislike for that sort of attention.

"I mean, I get it. I'd probably be the same after watching my girl go down like that, but-- hate to break it to ya, but it's everywhere, Kats."

"-Whaddya mean."

Notifications have flooded his phone when he cracks open an eye to really look at it, but he opens the most recent from Kirishima, texted by the redhead’s insistence for Bakugou to take a look.

There are stills of said clip of him running up to you and kissing you– one particular shot looks gorgeously cinematic because someone with a photo-optic quirk had clearly followed him, probably from that drone he almost broke. Screenshots Kirishima has collected (proof of ‘true manliness’, he claims) all bear headlines of how this was the most unexpected hero pairing of the season: how "Joynamight" is stealing the hearts of swooning civilians everywhere- and likely the shutdown of the entire hero rumor mill surrounding the explosive hero standing at No. 5. The dating scene has allegedly erupted into chaos over the news.

Bakugou stared at the photo of him holding you. One camera turned more at his shoulders by the way he'd stepped, so in this photo, he could see you more clearly- holding on as just about any loved one would hug their better half, but so beautifully content and safe in your face- if a little emotional yourself.

A blank hum is all Bakugou offered. Soft. Seemingly disinterested if it wasn't for the proud smirk.

Kirishima snickered on the other end of the line. "You sucker."

"Yeah, yeah."

"...dytell er yet?"

"Not there... But.. couldn't not, yknow."

"aaand?"

"... Dont scream about it, mtired."

Kiri audibly gasped, then at least honored Bakugou's request for distance from the phone, whooping and hollering off speakerphone, uplifted at the news. His carrying on made even a sleep-laden Bakugou happy, even if he lay there rolling his eyes for his friend to be done.

You finally stirred beside him, turning over with a stretch and seeking him out. He quickly received you, kissing your forehead again, then tipping back to the phone. "I'll call you back later, Eij."

"--Huh? Dude I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, WHAT HA-"

"Mmm who's that," you moaned.

Bakugou rubbed your back to rouse you the rest of the way. "Your big red dog."

You chortled at Kirishima's new moniker. "Whas’hewant."

Bakugou debated letting you stay in your bubble, but figured ripping the bandaid might be best. 

"Just called to give us a head's up."

You looked up to him, "About what?"

Bakugou only smirked, tilting his phone to you. To focus on the light, you woke up fully, eyes widening to just how bad they did -indeed- immortalize your private moment on the scene.Those grimey, windswept headshots you’d feared at the medtend were the least of your photogenic worries now.

But-- like his own reaction-- you couldn't keep from smiling.

"Ohhhh~" you sighed, then deeper, "Ohhhhh we are in deep shit."

Bakugou snuggled in– smug as all getout, "Yeah, we are."

"Wait, lemme see-- oh my God, Kats... Oh Katsuki, this-.."

"Yeah yeah, give it back-"

"Nooo I need that one! Send it to me!"

"It's likely blown yours up too, dummy! Get your own!"

Memory of your reentry home failed you, so you had to ask him where your phone ended up because you didn't have a clue. He’d put it on the charger for you, of course. Then, sitting side by side, you both were reviewing the more urgent notes from your respective social media managers with deep, secretive chuckles. 

These photos were a romantic’s dream, but a PR jumpscare. Had to be addressed in some way or it would never end, truly.

"What’d yours say?"

You fixed your wonky part with a little fluff to your hair, settling your initial overwhelm of nerves: " ‘Go on something lowkey- Present Mic’s show or a podcast off the mainstream, say ‘friendship is magic’, maybe tease it if I want to, and move on.’ I dunno- that seems like a lot of public speaking and scheduling out the wazoo. You?"

"She's just yapping. Didn't read it all." Bakugou barely cared about his social media presence since his manager did most of the publishing, save for Bakugou sharing some highlights of his select, predictable group of hero team ups. Besides that, he just focused on paying them well enough to cover his bullshit if he ever let his temper flare. Besides, now he was waiting on what you'd say, "So what're you gonna do?"

You debated, smirking like a devil the whole time as you realized what could be the fastest way to get your take out in the open, 

"... I wanna share the photographer's post. Not this J’akku Press spread."

This earned a smirk for you, "Yeah?"

"...yeah?" you returned a shy look- wondering if you were crazy.

"I will, if you will."

Bakugou’s soft, sleepy loyalty is one you fear will disappear after you both get started with your day. When Dynamight reports back in, you can only hope that he’d still feel the same way today as he did yesterday- though you imagine managing the tabloid fodder a post like this can make will be less than pleasant for him. He’s so private most of the time, and when he’s not digitally absent, he’s loud. This hesitation must have shown on your face– because he takes your hand for a second and kisses it to stop your spiral.

"I meant what I said. You’re it- you’re mine. Whether we tell the world or not. Up to you."

You bite your lip again, and doubled down. You shift to snuggle with your back cradled on his chest, building the shared post:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." Joyride_fm: see edit: Lucky, lucky girl. Sorry for scaring you, m'love❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideordie

Bakugou snickers, kissing your shoulder closest to him. "Do it, I'll repost that one."

He, however, did not let you read as he added his response thread, making you wonder what kind of a novel he was going to be sharing because of how long he was taking... 

Instead, you just curled into his side and peppered him in a few distracting kisses on his chest. He’d come bolting to you last night, a core memory you’d be fantasizing about for a long time. Just watching the way his chest is rising and falling here in bed so calmly when you know just hours ago it was heaving like you’d been lost at sea, you are so gone on him. When he nudged his shoulder for you to check his draft, you damn near cried:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." THE_Dynamight_SoV: Hero work is not for the weak. We train, we fight, and we do everything we can to make our world a safer one, to whatever end. This woman is one of many selfless, ball-busting, indomitable heroes that I'm not only proud to do this work with, but one I can't see myself living without. You're looking at the face of a man who's holding his priorities right there in 4k. So yeah. If you see one of us like this after a battle, know it's because heroes get scared too– for good fucking reason. Better not make this a habit, dummy. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideandDONTdie

"Oh my God~~" your tears and misty sniffles had you caving into his shoulder, "my tweet was so STUPID!!"

Katsuki bragged with proud cackles as you cried it out, sending the post out for the Internet to bawl over before you could dare edit your post, and turned his phone right back to silent.

You got snotty and overly emotional at how sweet he was with his statement, but were comforted by his hands smoothing over you until you calmed.

"Love you,” you settled into the peace he held you in.

"Love you, dummy."

When you got up for the afternoon run back to the office to finish your reports with fresh eyes, you entered the building as normal. There’s no hint in how either of you carry yourselves that say you all just spend the last twelve hours like koalas draped over each other. The only sign of such affections was your use of an Allmight tervis you're nursing your coffee with –clearly his– which your good ole partner in electric crime, Chargebolt, clocked from the end of the hallway:

"JOYNAMIGHT 2024!!!!"

"SHUDDUP, POWER OUTTAGE!!!"

[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

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

SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

“A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

[sleepyremu]

being the significant other of people on the quidditch team

summary // short little headcannons of what it would be like to be the s/o of golden trio era quidditch players

warnings // mentions of celebratory sex 😝 i can make a more nsfw version y’all like this 🤭

authors note // hi i’m gonna be active again!! i will def post a marauders era version of this too

golden era:

harry potter

harry likes inviting you to watch him practice while you do your homework, especially when it’s warmer out

he swears he does better at practice when you’re there

you love seeing his concentrated face when oliver is giving him pointers on maneuvering his broom in new ways to be faster when he spots the snitch

you love the crinkle in his nose that he has when he’s spotted the wings and is trying to figure out where it has gone next

he’s got to be so cute when he wins

like seeing you in the stands after he catches the snitch?? UGH!!!

i feel like he would have a little signal or motion or something he would do during a game when he sees you to let you know that he’s thinking of you

think like blowing a kiss or something of the sort

he would do it right before the whistle is blown and maybe even when he’d catch the snitch to let you know that he won for you

i don’t think he’d ever let you forget that he LOVES when you’re beaming at him from the stands, even when all of gryffindor is cheering for him, all he can think of is your smile and laugh

he would love celebratory one-on-one time. harry is NOT a super big partier after every single game, he’d rather spend quiet time with you in the common room just enjoying how you feel in his arms

the greatest prize for him is just time with the person he loves the most

i get this headcannon a lot with james, and i think harry has it too where he LOVES seeing you in his jersey 🫢

he’d find you so hot beautiful wearing his name plastered on his back

fred weasley

fred loves to make a total show out on the field for you

he winks at you every time he smacks a beater into that guy from slytherin who just won’t take the hint that you’re his girl

he loves impressing you on his broom, doing tricks and goofing off just to make you smile

this guy is the total opposite of harry when it comes to how he likes to spend time after winning

fred is the life of the party. he’s so hyper and excited when he wins and he loves to take it out on you

if he can catch your hand after gryffindor rushes out onto the field, he’ll whisper something about meeting him near the bathroom in 15 minutes

if we’re talking celebratory sex, fred weasley is the king

he relishes in winning and getting your kind reassurances that he did a good job and that you’re proud of him

“freddie, let me give you a proper celebration, hm?”

“say no more, darling.”

fred loves to celebrate not only with you, but with everyone in gryffindor

he is so cocky and full of himself but in the most charming and sexy way

he knows he deserves the attention

he would be dragging you to parties after games and making you take shots to celebrate his victory

“cmon, love, just one drink f’me? i did so well on the field for you, let me get my pretty girl all hot and bothered like i was lookin at her in the stands…”

george weasley

george has never really showed off during practice than when you happen to walk by the quidditch pitch when you first started dating

some feeling took over him when he saw you in your cute scarf and hands in your pockets, grinning at him with a scrunched nose

he just had an instinct to speed up and down the pitch, spinning on his broom towards you and hard stopping right next to you to peck you on the cheek

he didn’t have to look behind him as he went to join the rest of his team to know your cheeks had flushed and you had frozen in place

that was the first form of pda between you two and you knew he only did it because he just couldn’t help himself

he somehow always finds a way of twisting his own victory into celebrating you

he’d find a reason to buy YOU a gift because HE won his match

this sick twisted adorable little game of his always has you preemptively trying to avoid getting presents from him

“george, why are you buying ME a necklace when YOU won your match?”

“just think of it as my reward for doing such a good job, hm? i get to see my princess wearing jewelry a winner got for her. just makes me wanna keep making her proud.”

george is a happy mix of celebrating with just you and with the entire house of gyffindor

he can get behind a massive function after a well deserved win (aka any time gyffindor beats slytherin)

unlike fred, he doesn’t have all that energy built up needing to be released right after a game

he lets his victory deep into him all the way before he celebrates with sex

he’s so sweet and intimate normally, but some sort of switch turns on when he is successful in a match

he takes his time basking in a victory, and slow and loving sex turns him on so much

draco malfoy

he’s very nonchalant when you pass by him during practice, he knows he doesn’t need to impress you and boy does he have fun being a cocky son of a bitch about it

“darling, i could do tricks for you on the pitch, but you know i don’t need to do anything except look at you to get your heart all funny.”

he likes that you give him his space when he plays because he lets you in on every other part of his life, and he appreciates that you understand he likes having something that is reserved just for him

draco is a very possessive boyfriend (it’s not new information, i know)

he thinks it’s so hot when you wear his jersey to his game

you’d surprise him in his dorm, just the two of you, before he heads to his game, wearing his name on your back and smiling and he’d just freeze

you would get scared for a moment, thinking you did something wrong and that it was too much too soon

but that fear would dissipate in a few seconds as he cracked a stupid grin and peppered kisses all over your face and neck, telling you how good you looked

he’ll pull you into his arms after his game when everyone is on the pitch and says lowly in your ear

“merlin, you have no idea what you’re in for when none of these people are watching us. you were such a distraction, baby.”

draco isn’t a very clingy person, and typically he’s not very grandiose about your relationship

so when slytherin is partying after a victory, he’s not all over you the whole night

he’ll let you talk to your friends and you let him celebrate with his team

but he never loses his manners

i bet his mama taught him that

he’ll come up to you offering to refill your drink, asking if you need anything, firmly holding your hips to his when he talks to you and promising he’ll check up on you in 20 minutes before he gives you a departing squeeze to your hand

he knows the two of you had your fun right after the game in the locker room and will probably mess around a little more after the party to celebrate his win

oliver wood

quidditch is life for him. you know how important the sport is and you respect how seriously he takes it

it doesn’t go unnoticed whatsoever

he can see you trying your best to keep up with his rants and intently listening to his words, even if you weren’t quite sure what all of them meant

he never gave up the chance to rant to you about a recent match he watched or an idea for a new play

he appreciated that you attempted to absorb his words, and just knowing that you were happy to sit and listen to him talk for ages sent a sweet tightening feeling to his chest

oliver would be the type to try and teach you how to ride a broom and tell you that you were amazing at flying even if it was terribly obvious you and a broomstick was a disaster waiting to happen

“you’re a natural, y/n!”

“oliver, i love you, but please don’t lie like that to my face.”

“but you look so adorable after you’ve fallen into the mud- ow! don’t pinch me! this is my scoring arm.”

oliver shamelessly invited you to come to every single practice he held so you could see him in his element

he always had the cheekiest grin on his face when he won, and it kept with him when he met back up with you

he had the most incredibly stupid little victory dance and you thought it was so cute

once, for christmas, you bought him golden snitch boxers you thought were so funny that you could have sworn he’d thrown away

he genuinely wore them because they were from you (and also they were surprisingly soft and stretchy)

you knew he actually wore them because on laundry days, you would see them pretty frequently in the freshly done basket of laundry

“y/n, they’re my lucky underwear.”

oh come on guys how could we deny that oliver wood loves to be called “captain” after he wins a match?

he’d like taking you semi-publicly, like in the locker room, and you calling him “captain” or “sir” just stirred something in him that made him even more fiery than he usually was after winning a game

[frownyalfred]

So....*bludgeons you with borderline is omegaverse lite stick* outside of ASOHverse, what do you think the batfam's dynamics are? This is ignoring ships and ship potential, just if you were writing a fict about platonic or pack dynamics heavy batfam, what would you put their various dynamics as?

Oh gosh, okay, platonic batfamily...

Bruce - I really like him either as an alpha or an omega, no in between needed. He's so intense and territorial and I think that lends itself to both ends of the dynamics spectrum. He's also a natural born leader, as well as a very patient teacher. Either way, platonic a/b/o fics with him should lean more into those characteristics and less into the negative stereotypes (mean pack alpha, overly emotional omega, etc)

Dick - I like him as a very relaxed alpha or a strong and determined beta. He's the glue in so many versions of a Batfamily, not just packs. He needs to be good at compromising, and not devolve into any posturing that alphas might be doing in the pack. Dick's greatest strengths really lie in his emotional stability and maturity. I don't love when people automatically make him an omega because of that.

Jason - alpha. It really fits his nature to be more headstrong and brash outwardly, stereotypical alpha characteristics that are sometimes true. It also makes sense for his relationship with Bruce as the second Robin -- he'd butt heads with alpha OR omega Bruce as the first alpha in the pack if Dick was a beta. I love writing him as an omega though, as you know.

Tim - he's an interesting one. I really think he could be any dynamic, though I would generally lean more towards alpha or beta rather than omega. I read a fic recently with alpha Tim and omega Kon and it made me realize how frequently we just make him an omega and call it a day. I think a more restrained, calculating alpha makes the most sense to me. AND that means he can butt heads with Damian...

Damian - alpha. He wants to play at being pack alpha and this works even if Bruce is an alpha. Jason gets irritated but (wisely) thinks he's above a pup. Tim and Damian grate on each other instead. Damian, because he doesn't like a rival alpha's claim on Bruce (esp if he's omega) or perceived attempts to destabilize Bruce's pack (if he's an alpha). Tim doesn't like Damian because, yeah, it's like a 12 year old alpha challenging you out of the blue for a spot in the pack you've fought hard for. Easy friction. Also a great opportunity to write them teaming up and putting those discordant instincts to good use together. (Jason, Tim, and Damian all being alphas makes sense if Dick is the beta glue, Alfred is beta glue, and Bruce is the pack alpha/omega trying to keep everyone sane).

Cass - alpha or beta. I actually really like when people write her as an alpha people mistake for a beta. I know this gives Bruce a whole pack of alphas at the end of the day, but it kind of makes sense for vigilante work? Or at least it does in my head.

Steph - beta. She's Dick's backup on pack dynamics and a good balance to alpha Tim and Damian. She's more vicious than Dick and takes no shit. She butts head with Bruce more than any alpha, save Jason. She and Jason bond over this. Jason doesn't get tense around her because she's not an alpha or omega.

Alfred - beta. Truly the ultimate caregiver and healer. He is all of the beta stereotypes in one package. He's less interested in soothing Bruce's emotions than Dick is, though. He's tough love for Bruce's michegas, whether it's alpha or omega.

Duke - omega, hot take. Confident, quietly stepping into the pack dynamics and is welcomed almost instantly, and not just because he's omega. He has an entire pack of alphas behind him but doesn't rely on them for anything if he can do it himself. He bonds well with omega Bruce in my mind -- they have specialized training not just for his powers, but for those instincts no one else in the pack really has. People are drawn to him (like when he just started out gathering kids) because he embodies the omegan quality of defending the territory/pack.

[daisybianca]

pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: your boyfriend adores disney movies. what happens when you decide to have a marathon with him, even though you know he will spoil every single one of the movies and ruin it for you?

warnings: just fluff, slight angst

"AND THEN MOANA finds out that her destiny isn’t waiting for her it’s insi-- Oof!" Lando whispered into your ear, only to be smacked right smack dab in the middle of his face with a pillow.

"Lando! Stop! You’ve done this many times before and it’s getting annoying." You fumed.

It was a kind of bittersweet situation dating the famous F1 driver. He was super sweet and everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. Except that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it came to Disney movies.

You planned a whole week of watching your favorite Disney movies.

Monday was Snow White; a classic.

Tuesday was Mulan, because of obvious reasons.

You let Lando pick on Wednesday. And of course, he picked the one and only: The Little Mermaid, his favorite.

Thursday was going to be Beauty and the Beast because Lando had managed to spoil every single one you suggested previously.

It’s not that you hadn't already watched these movies. It’s just that while you did, your boyfriend kept interrupting the movie to tell you what was about to happen. One of your greatest pet peeves.

Just before you two started ‘Moana’, you cautioned him.

"You better not spoil any of this movie."

"But I can’t help it!" Lando whined. "I’m pretty sure I’ll combust or something if I don’t, baby!"

‘Nope! No buts. Or spoilers! Promise?’

All you heard was a weak fine.

You two set up your movie necessities. Lando rested his head on your lap while you had one hand stroking his hair and the other in the popcorn bucket.

Almost halfway into the movie, Lando broke his promise. "Hey, baby! Here’s the part where she meets Maui, a demigod. But they split up because he’s kind of bitter at first. But then they become a team."

"LANDO. COME ON." You groaned as you threw your head back on the couch.

He was so childish sometimes. You wanted to start throwing heavy stuff at him.

"Sorry." He replied sheepishly.

But was he really?

With a smug smirk plastered all over his face, he proceeded to spoil the rest of the movie.

Finally on your last straw, you devised a plan to finally shut him up.

"And then they return the st-" But before he could finish his sentence, you snuck up on him and kissed him.

Due to the kiss, his brain short-circuited so his first instinct was to kiss back. Putting his hands around your waist, he moaned into the kiss.

Then you suddenly broke off the kiss, leaving him with a deep pout on his lips.

"Why’d ya stop?" His accent appeared.

"Oh, the kiss? That was only to stop you from spoiling the rest of the movie. Smart idea, right?’

"Definitely, baby." Murmured Lando as he took your chin in his hands and brought you closer so he could taste you again. "Absolutely."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

[imagionationstation]

OKAY— so like, we had scenarios of which the B-Team were raised by the Shredder, but what if it was the A-Team??

Shredder telling both Leonardo and Raphael (who now goes by Takeō and Akihitō respectively) lies about their younger littermates (Donatello and Michelangelo, whom he named as Junkō and Kōta)— telling them that their younger siblings have been ruthlessly killed by Hamato Yoshi, who had deemed them as an abomination.

In fact, Shredder wasn't even aware of the existence of the younger two; at least, not until both Takeō and Akihitō brought it up a few months after they were officially able to carry out missions and daily patrol. However, he couldn't deny that it's truly a blessing— there's a chance that they might know of Hamato Yoshi's location, and even then, Shredder can expand his army of powerful mutants.

Donatello and Michelangelo, on the other hand, aren't so thrilled about having to 2v2 their older brothers at just about everytime. There's also that the two have the tendency to play dirty. Stalking their friends and whatnot, it's driving them up the wall.

I don't know if Karai should be with the Shredder, because her rivalry with the A-Team over the younger onces is delicious.

What do you think?

I love this. No, no, wait, see my vision, look-

Takeō and Akihitō are everything that Shredder needs them to be. They took up training from the moment that their little legs could walk and they excelled past anything that he’d ever seen before, and one of Shredder’s greatest fighters happens to be blind, mind you, so he knows what greatness looks like.

He knows it has to relate to the fact that they’re mutants, but he couldn’t care less. With one student who bears a determination to please and the other with the violent fury to be molded like his own, they’re better than an entire legion of Foot soldiers. Takeō makes sure every command is followed and Akihitō leaves no enemy unpunched- what could be better?

They’re perfect. No, they’re better than perfect. They’re a miracle.

One that he never hesitates to take advantage of. If Yoshi had done one thing right in his lifetime, it was leading him to them.

And then- AND THEN-

Enter Mikey and Donnie.

The universe throws out two turtles with on obvious ignorance of surface life and an instinct to defend those that dwell on it. Leo and Raph’s world is thrown out of whack the first time that they spot them- considering Mikey is a younger-shaped replica of them with freckles. They keep an curious eye on them from a distance, but uncertain what to make of them, don’t interact.

They inquire about it to their father and (considering Saki likely stole them from Yoshi) he fabricates a story that horrifies them. They already know about Yoshi and how he killed Karai’s mother- but he tore apart their family too?

Afterward, it takes about five seconds to connect the dots on who these mutant turtles are. They go out to track down and reconnect with their brothers. *insert canon plot stuff*

When Donnie and Mikey try to save a kidnapped April, they fail pretty badly. The Saki brothers step in, stop the Kraang from taking the girl before Donnie and Mikey’s brains get blown out, but don’t really do much about them taking the dad. They don’t really care about the humans. They’re far more interested in prodding the turtles.

And, after taking April to her aunt’s, prodding absolutely happens from both sides.

The childish giddy air of the Junkō and Kōta upon finding their siblings obviously cements them as the younger siblings in the Saki brother’s minds. They don’t doubt for a moment that they are who they say they are because Splinter told them that they had two missing brothers as little kids.

Mind made up, Leo insists that they come home. Mikey insists that they have a home and Donnie admits they shouldn’t really wander off with strangers. They both vocalize that their rat dad needs to meet them first since he’s the one who lost them and he’s misses them and they don’t have to abandon their dad or anything, they just really want them to meet Splinter! (The Foot symbols on their gear mean nothing to the Hamatos and the name Splinter means nothing to the Sakis. Oopsy.)

And so they wait around for Mikey and Donnie to collect Splinter and then Splinter comes across his sons and Leo and Raph are tolerant until he introduces himself as Hamato Yoshi and then it all clicks that the man who Shredder thought killed their brothers and he had stolen them away instead and he’s the reason that they haven’t see them for fifteen years-

They don’t even give Yoshi time to explain before they’re attempting to eliminate the threat. Donnie and Mikey are insanely confused until one of the brothers lets it slip that their dad is Saki and- oh wait are they evil?!- so now there’s fighting, attempted forced reasoning and kidnapping of little brothers, but the Hamatos manage to get away.

So now Leo and Raph’s are simply DISTRAUGHT because the madman had stolen and brainwashed their little brothers so how were supposed to focus on anything else when they’re out there but actively on the wrong side of this war??

It trashes their game and suddenly his miracle team is no longer a shinning example of perfection. Once again, Yoshi has ruined something great and, instead of seething, Saki gets creative.

He fakes an understanding with what his sons are going through and expresses a wish that he knew where Yoshi was so that he could put an end to the threat. If only, they could find the lair where he was keeping their brothers prisoner, maybe then they rid the world of the rat and bring them home. Once they’re free from Yoshi’s dark influence, they could all be one happy family.

And Leo, like the helpful little leader he is, realizes that they could find the lair. Him and Raph could totally find a way to convince the brothers to take them home, or even find a way to get in without their knowledge. They were ninjas, masters of deception and lies. They could do it, Master, if only he would give them a chance?

So he does because an end to Yoshi and two new powerful warriors is more than he could hope for. Exactly what he deserves.

And the rest of the series is just Raph and Leo doing everything in their power to inch their way into their brother’s trust. They stalk them in a desperate itch to make sure they’re okay, which leads to them intercepting and assisting on a bunch of Kraang mission.

They run into each other when Donnie and Mikey try to stop the Foot from being evil, and Leo and Raph are more concerned with making sure nothing happens to their brothers that the Hamato brothers end up completing their mission more often than not.

Leo and Raph are still dedicated to the Foot but their priorities are skewed every time their brother come into play. Nine times out of ten, baby brothers take first priority. And Saki lets these mishaps happen because his sons are insistent upon gaining the Hamatos trust.

It doesn’t take Donnie and Mikey long to realize what Leo and Raph are doing, protecting-them wise. They don’t quite understand it, but they assume that even though they have been misguided and brainwashed by Shredder, they still are good people deep down. It’s incredibly annoying that they are always in the way and can’t seem to realize how what they’re doing is obviously evil, though.

Like plotting younger siblings do, they adapt to use the brother’s new apparent weakness against them, putting themselves in situations where the Saki brothers have no choice but to interviene- even if that means slicing their own bots or preventing their own missions from succeeding. And the best part is that the Saki brothers have no idea that they’re being played- they really just believe that their baby brothers are kinda bad at their jobs.

Which really doesn’t help with the whole PROTECT alarms constantly ringing in their brains.

As for Karai, I think she would still be with the Foot, but instead of a doting older sister, there would be jealousy vibes. She’d been overshadowed her entire life by these ‘perfect’ brothers and she jumps at the opportunity to impress her father when they start slipping. She could even play an antagonist role- actively trying to dissuade her father’s approval of Leo&Raph’s activities in order to get a better standing. She doesn’t want them murdered at the stake or anything, simply taken out of the favoritism role so that his actual human daughter (or so she thinks) can have a scrap of his attention.

I WAS GOING TO STOP HERE BUT YOU HAVE ME THINKING ABOUT PLOT AND SUCH NOW-

Like, Donnie would now be the eldest with the responsibilities of genius and leader, which means that he probably feels like his baby brother’s one line of defense against an entire universe. Splinter didn’t train his boys for war- but Saki did. Imagine the pressure on his shoulders to keep his family safe while actively on deadly missions with brothers who could turn on them at any second, stuck under the weight of wanting to get April reunited with her missing family.

Leo’s side of the spectrum is spent worrying that two of his brothers are under the abusive care of their kidnapper. He desperately hones the “but I can totally bring them to our side and make them see things our way!” attitude that he has for Karai during the canon series. He does everything in his power to keep the blame from falling on them when missions go wrong, fabricating stories for their father, like he’s always done to keep Raph out of trouble. He doesn’t care for the Hamato’s missions, but he cares greatly for their safety, so he makes sure they tag along at every opportunity, whether they are wanted or not. Stalking is never out of the question, even if it doesn’t take long for the Hamatos to adapt to their presence.

I CAN’T SHUT UP ABOUT THIS SUDDENLY:

So there’s this song “Our Word” from 36 questions that absolutely has the vibes from this au that has taken root in my brain and when I think of Leo being a sneaky little guy and keeping Raph out of trouble- IT FITS. Well, these specific verses anyway:

When I was a little [boy] Like really little, like eight or so I was playing in my father's study A place in the house I wasn't supposed to go

My father fancied himself a sailor His study was filled with nautical decor He kept a boat in a bottle on the top of a shelf And it shattered on the ground when I slammed the door

I told my [brother] everything I told [him] I was so, so sorry [He] told me, "Don't cry, When he comes home tonight We can make everything okay This is all we have to say"

"We don't remember a boat in a bottle It must've fallen off its shelf alone We know you loved it, we're so sad it's broken But neither one of us was even home"

And it's our word Yes, our word Against his

HOLY MOTHER OF MUTATIONS I AM DEVOURING THIS AU AND NOW I HAVE RETURNED WITH CONCEPT:

“You shouldn’t be out alone.”

Donnie lands as irritation crawls up his spine and becomes fuzzy little ambers in his brain. He has a few irrational thoughts, such as giving the nuisance a taste of throwing stars, but they’re dismissed as he pretends to check his t-phone. He can sense one entity behind him, but his partner doesn’t seem to be hovering nearby.

He turns, t-phone at his side, the cheese phone on speed-dial. He doubts the Foot ninja wants to kill him, but if this is another kidnapping attempt…

Well. Better safe than sorry.

“Apperently, I’m not. Need something?”

“You almost got caught tonight.” Takeō cocks his head, face passive. “You shouldn’t be breaking into military junkyards. There have to be safer options. There’s a place in Chinatown. Less guns.”

“Well, as soon as civilians throw out this kind of equipment,” Donnie pats the bag on his hip. “I’ll consider it.”

He frowns. “You’re taking risks.”

“Weren’t your men trying to slit my throat last week?”

“That was not my doing.”

“Oh, sure, Shredder doesn’t want to lure Splinter out of hiding and you would never kidnap me or Mikey, right?”

“I didn’t know about Bradford’s scheme until it was to late.” Takeō scans his face and Donnie denies the sincerity any thought. “You have to believe us- why else would we help you escape?”

“To earn our trust? For future blackmail? As some part of some evil Foot plot to hurt Sensei?” Donnie sneers. “I don’t care what your excuse is when you made my brother bleed.”

“I told Bradford to back off, but I can only do so much.” The tone is defensive, but his frown softens guiltily. “I can’t stop the bots from doing their programing. Maybe if my clan did not see you as a threat- if you would rethink your position-”

His grip tightens over the t-phone. “This is not a conversation that I am entertaining. Goodbye, Takeō.”

“Wait-”

He does not.

And then Takeō is across the rooftop and roughly taking hold of his arm before he can take more than two steps. The t-phone clatters, adrenaline surging as he stops dead in his tracks. His attention shoots from the weapon on the warrior’s hip and then to the blue gaze that is drilling holes into his skull.

He swallows, proud that his voice doesn’t shake. “Let go.”

Takeō tightens his hold. He steps forward, their gazes locked, face unreadable. Donnie thinks it might be an intimation tactic, but he’s not scared, per say. His gut squirms in discomfort and he feels weirdly small despite being inches taller. He expects a low warning, or some kind of dark threat to cut the air between them.

Instead, he gets a soft promise laced so heavily in passion that it might as well have been shouted across the rooftops.

“I would never hurt my brothers.”

Donnie is silent for several seconds.

“You’re hurting me right now.”

Takeō tears his hand away as though he just found out that Donnie was radioactive. Donnie rubs the area, mostly for show, in the hopes of dissuading him from trying that again.

“…I-I meant…” Donnie looks up. No hesitation crosses his face, but his words come with uncertainty. “Not like that. Never like that.”

Donnie humphs.

“Is- Is Kōta-”

“Mikey.”

Takeō stares and Donnie glares back.

The warrior relents. “How is he?”

“It was a flesh wound.” Donnie picks up the t-phone, unsure why he’s telling him anything. “He’s already back to being a hassle.”

A beat of quiet. “I suppose that means we’ll be reunited soon.”

“To kick your shells in? Yeah. Probably.” Donnie puts away his device, looking somewhere over Takeō’s shoulder to the bulky shadow who has been inching closer through the extent of their conversation.

“You know, family means more to me than biology. Shocking to hear from a scientist, I know.” He pauses for effect, considering. “A family with differences is still a family. You might be serious about this whole hurting thing when it comes to Mikey and me…” He narrows his eyes and trains the hostility on the piercing gaze. “But if I find out that you even thought about touching my father again, you can forget any chance of brotherhood. I might seem like a weak joke to you, but I promise that I can make your life a living hell.”

Donnie stares him down, grip tight over the strap of the bag filled with weaponry that he’ll use to make Metalhead truly surface worthy so nothing can harm Mikey again, and dares Takeō to challenge him.

“There’s no stronger warrior than one whose greatest virtue is their loyalty.” Takeō decides simply. “And there is nothing more that I’d expect from a brother.”

Donnie is pretty sure that’s a compliment. He’s not sure what that he to do with backing off his father, but he accepts it.

He releases the bag. “Glad we understand each other.”

He turns his back to the ninja, looking over his shoulder. “And don’t have Akihitō follow me home.”

Takeō stiffens, eyes widening. He smirks. “See you later, bro.”

With a burst of speed, he takes off.

To their credit, they don’t follow.

Donnie knows better to assume that this’ll be the last time he has eyes on his shell. But, for the first time, he thinks he won’t mind.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

hello! i was wondering if you still wrote for persona 3, could you do general hc's for minako arisato and her s/o that's also in sees?

(Persona 3) Minako's S/O being in S.E.E.S

I sure do! And as a bonus because I miss writing the Arisato's, there's also Twin!AU HC's added (aka both male and fem MC's are present as siblings)

Minako cares for S/O greatly. She'd do anything to not have them in harm's way, doubly so considering her line of work.

Shadows were a threat to humanity, but it comforted her at least to know S/O wouldn't be affected by the Midnight Hour.

Until one night, they were still in a human form when it the clock struck midnight.

Her heart nearly stopped when S/O used an evoker, and summoned their own Persona.

And following that, they were asked to join SEES, much to her dismay and relief.

On one hand, it meant that she could keep an eye on them without worrying if they would get caught in collateral damage.

But now she had to worry about S/O getting killed by a Shadow.

The greatest threat however had yet to come:

Meeting the rest of the dysfunctional squad that were the other SEES members.

===

(Junpei) "Hey, you're S/O, right! Minako here just won't shut up about you!"

(Yukari) "Please, you'd be doing the exact same thing if you were in her shoes."

(Minako) "I'm right here, you guys!"

(S/O) "Minako's told me a lot about you all as well! It's a pleasure to finally-"

Aigis examined S/O closely, her irises seemingly changing focus.

(S/O) "...U-Uh-"

(Aigis) "Confirmed. S/O will not be an issue to Minako's safety."

Noticing their confused expression, Minako stepped in, clearing her throat loudly.

(Minako) "Ahah...d-don't mind her. She's a robot."

(S/O) "She's a what?!"

===

If S/O ever got hurt during their operations, Minako would not hesitate to tear the Shadow apart, but knew she had to keep her head cool.

She was the leader, and the rest of the team would crumble if they saw her panic.

Fighting against innate instincts, even in the heat of battle, she tries to not let her emotions dictate her actions.

BONUS: Twin!AU

Minato knows that his sister wouldn't choose anyone to be her significant other lightly, so he doesn't bat too much of an eye.

Normally if a person was trying to hit on her, he'd interfere immediately with a death glare.

He's respectful, but doesn't show much emotion around S/O.

---

(Minako) "S/O, this is my baby brother, Minato!"

(Minato) "We were born at the same time-"

(Minako) "I was born a couple seconds earlier, so I'm the eldest!"

(S/O) "Hah, nice to meet you!"

Minato simply nodded, his face and voice remaining deadpan.

(Minako) "Don't worry, he's usually this emo around everyone too!"

(Minato) "And she's usually this annoying every day. Though you already knew that, considering you're with her."

(S/O) "Heh, I sure do!"

Minako pouts at the both of them.

(Minako) "Don't call me annoying! And YOU especially shouldn't be agreeing with him!"

---

Minato eventually lets his walls come down around S/O, showing a bit more emotion whenever his sister isn't in the room.

It's usually a gentle smile or an extremely quiet chuckle, but it's a sign of trust.

If his sister trusts them, then he can too.

In battle, Minato makes sure to watch over them for Minako's sake whenever she can't join the team.

He knows it'll give her peace of mind. It'll also shut her up too.

(Minato) "If you ever need some help, don't be afraid to call for me too."

[mirioho]

“A scavenger hunt? Looks like we’ll have to put our heads together for this.”

Reyu Carrera joins the Witches Team for the Pumpkin King Event

Event By: @cheerleaderman

Voice Lines Under Cut: (mentions of Yuya @cheerleaderman , Hebe @honibumii , Kalmia @skriblee-ksk , and Sophie @gl00myb3arz )

💼 Groovy: [Locked]

💼 Home: This actually seems like it will be fun.

💼 Home Idle 1: This is quite an elaborate scavenger hunt, all the ghosts we’ve encountered are seriously playing their part.

💼 Home Idle 2: I believe the Witches team has the greatest chance of finding Yuya ,of course…if we can put our focus together that is.

💼 Home Idle 3: Kalmia’s instincts are proving to be much more advantageous than any of the clues we’ve come across.

💼 Home Idle Groovy: [Locked]

💼 Home Tap 1: That’s the third time I’ve been tricked. I need to keep on my toes.

💼 Home Tap 2: Hm? You like my costume? Thank you, though with all the running around, the bottom has gotten a bit dirty.

💼 Home Tap 3: Malleus seems to be helping Sophie with a puzzle, that’s good. Hebe has jumpscared Riddle again…that’s less good.

💼 Home Tap 4: We’re getting closer now, I think. When it’s this close, I can’t help but feel competitive.

💼 Home Tap 5: It’d be helpful to take a break, but I’ll keep looking over the clues we have. I can’t stop something once I’ve started.

💼 Home Tap Groovy: [Locked]

Finally finished this!! This is my first time ever really making a card like this so hopefully everything is ok? I've always wanted to have an oc to put into these events and this was really fun!

I do want to make some extra fanart though, just because that's what I've always done but we'll see!

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 7 - Stuck in a Wall

Ghost x Soap - 1.8k (on ao3)

summary: Johnny makes a stupid mistake on a mission and suffers the consequences. (Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, trans ftm soap, brief overstimulation, pussy spanking, hurt no comfort

Johnny wiggles where he’s stuck, angry curses spitting from his lips as he sets his feet and desperately tries to shove himself out of his self-made prison.

He’s never, never done something quite this fucking stupid on a mission. Who the hell gets themselves stuck in a wall because they were trying to take a goddamn short-cut? Rookies, that’s who. The greenest of green soldiers, the kind every C.O. hates dealing with. Johnny’s gone and become his greatest annoyance.

He doesn’t reach up to flick his throat mic on and call for help, no matter how uncomfortable he is. Honestly, the idea of any of the 141 finding him like this is almost more mortifying than getting stuck in the first place. Gaz would never let him live it down and would take a thousand photos, Ghost would bring it up in every conversation, and Price probably wouldn’t let him head off on his own in missions for weeks - and that’s if he’s lucky.

No, Soap will just have to figure this out on his own. How hard can it be?

The hole is tight around his waist. He’d hardly been able to get his shoulders in, had done an awkward dance of pushing one arm through, then his neck, then the other arm. But he’s too thick around the middle, got too fantastic of an arse, apparently, to fit the rest of his body through. It leaves him scraping his back and stomach along the inside of the wall, forcing his shirt further and further up his back until it hangs loose on the same side of the wall as his head.

No matter how much he pushes, no matter how much he kicks at the wall, he can’t fucking move. Doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

What does stop him is the sudden sensation of a hand against the small of his back. That gets him jerking, kicking a leg back on instinct like a horse.

“Hey!” He shouts, wincing at the slight crack in his voice from surprise. None of his team are supposed to be in this building, just a few civilians and suspected terrorists that Johnny was meant to sneak around before grabbing his intel. Johnny’s face flushes red when the hand shifts, humiliated at the thought of one of those assholes seeing him like this. “Fuck off, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The hand quickly gains confidence, firmly grasping his uniform pants, yanking them and his boxers down in one go. His entire bottom half is left exposed to the cold air, goosebumps running down his thighs. That really gets Johnny panicked, his heart a furious beat in his chest. He kicks and stomps, pushes and shoves, tries everything he can to free himself from the stupid fucking wall, all to no avail.

“What the fuck?! Get the hell away from me, I’ll blow your goddamn brains out if you fuckin’ dare-!” A harsh slap to his cunt, sudden and stinging, has Johnny cutting himself off with a yelp. He shouts with rage immediately after, struggles all the harder. The skin of his stomach is rubbing raw, and his nails chip from the way he claws at the wall.

The person behind him - a man, he can feel him pushing his hard cock against his thigh, the fucking bastard - rains down several hard slaps on Johnny’s pussy, bruising blows that send shockwaves of pain up his spine. The swats are loud even through the wall, the sound of skin on skin like a knife to the head.

The smacks don't stop until Johnny falls quiet, panting and wide-eyed. There's an ache between his legs, one that has him shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

He’s stiffer than he’s probably ever been in his life, teeth clenched tight and eyes stinging as his brain fully absorbs what’s happening. The hand rubs his cunt a little, the palm almost soothing over the sting. Johnny wants to cry.

The man’s hand moves to his zipper, and Johnny can feel the exact moment his cock pops out to rest along his back. It’s fucking massive, heavy and hot against his skin. He whimpers involuntarily at the sensation, squeezes his legs and lips shut.

“Please, don’t,” he tries again, despising the slight waver in his voice. He clenches his fists tight against the wall, pushes until they throb with pain and offer a distraction from the horror happening to him.

The man pets his ass like you would rub a panicked animal, slow and almost soothing if it was in any other context. In this context, a tear slips down Johnny’s face and he clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth ache.

The man doesn’t stretch him at all, another cruelty. He rubs two fingers over Soap’s little dick for a moment, just until his body works against him and starts dripping slick down onto the man’s fingers. Johnny’s never hated his stupidly high libido as much as he does in that moment.

He whimpers when he feels the heat of the man’s cock at his entrance, gets another slow stroke from his ass to his back and down again. The false intimacy stings almost as much as the slow slide of a thick cock into his hole.

He whines again, tries to jerk his hips away from the invasion but can only go so far with the wall blocking his movement. Even with his total inability to get away, the man behind him lands several thudding blows against his ass for the struggle. Johnny stomps his foot at the sensation, bites his lip to hold in a cry, and is almost positive he hears a low laugh.

The man isn’t gentle in his fucking. He gives Johnny’s poor cunt no time to adjust, hardly spends a second buried inside of him before he’s pulling back out and thrusting in. His pace is merciless, deep and hard thrusts that make Johnny feel like his guts are being rearranged. He covers his mouth with both hands to muffle his involuntary moans, refuses to give the man assaulting him anything else.

A hand moves from his hip to the front of his body to press flat, and Johnny nearly wails when he realizes the man is tracing his own cock through Johnny’s stomach. The pressure there makes everything more intense, makes the cock inside him feel even more impossibly large.

That same hand moves down to his clit a few thrusts later, rubs at his slick cock until Johnny is kicking desperately at the wall as he comes, nearly biting his tongue off with how hard he’s pinching it between his teeth.

The man doesn’t stop once Johnny’s come, keeps rubbing at his clit to force his hole to milk his cock. Johnny’s always been very sensitive after an orgasm, and he nearly goes limp after this one, letting his legs hang like dead weight from the hole in the wall. He uses all his focus to keep from moaning and shouting, body giving up on escaping the horrible pleasure.

That concession gets him another stroke across his ass, and Johnny is reminded of how much he despises the false affection. The man can’t force comfort into this terrible act, Johnny won’t let him.

He loses his mind a bit until the man finally comes, sinking into the sensation of a cock pounding him with no regard for his own wants. The man grunts and buries himself balls-deep when he finishes, and Johnny can’t help the audible whine when he feels the hot come coating his insides.

The noise he hears now is definitely a laugh, and the little pat-pat to his ass is just rubbing salt in the wound. He keens again, sniffles as he feels tears slip down his nose.

The man lets himself soften fully inside of Johnny before pulling out, tucking his own cock away before yanking Johnny’s boxers and pants back up in one go. He’s perfunctory about it, completely unattached as he gives him a final pat over his sore cunt and then steps away.

Johnny only lets himself sob audibly once before he forces the noises down, swallows thickly and focuses all his energy on not screaming.

He’s not sure how long he stays in the wall, the feeling of cum dripping out of his hole and into his boxers making him want to start crying all over again.

Eventually, minutes or hours later, Ghost comes strolling in the room.

Johnny can’t even bring himself to care that he’s never looked more pathetic in front of his Lieutenant, just throws his weight forward and cries out in relief. “Oh, fuck, thank God, L.t., you gotta get me out of here.”

Ghost’s chuckle is low and rumbling, a little mean. “Got yourself stuck, MacTavish?”

“Don’t be a daft cunt, Simon, fucking help me,” Johnny snarls, any and all self control long-since depleted and gone.

The energy in the room shifts as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his Lieutenant taking quick steps forward and grabbing Johnny roughly by the chin, yanking him up until they’re near eye level. Johnny flails a bit, wraps both hands around Ghost’s forearms for even a hint of stability. 

“Watch your mouth, Sergeant,” Ghost rumbles, low and quiet. “I’ll let it slide this time, since you’ve clearly lost your head, but you’ll speak to me with respect or you won’t speak at all. Understood?”

Johnny tries to nod as best he can, gets a harsh shake of his face. “Answer me, Johnny.”

“Y-yes, Sir. Understood. ‘M sorry, it’s just…” he trails off when Ghost shifts his hand to stroke a thumb over his chin, the intimacy both shocking and too much for Johnny’s fragile mental state. He feels like he might shatter right in Ghost's palm. “Please, please help me, sir?”

There’s a smirk in Ghost’s voice when he speaks next. “Good boy, remembering your manners. Of course I’ll help you, Sergeant. What, did you think I’d leave you here, all vulnerable for anyone to see? Wouldn’t do that to you, Johnny.”

He nearly starts sobbing again when Simon helps yank him through the wall the rest of the way, stays dead silent for the rest of the mission and pointedly ignores the way Simon's eyes crease at the corners, the long looks he keeps feeling even with his head ducked low and his eyes downcast.

It doesn’t occur to him to ask why Ghost was in that building, he’s too preoccupied thanking any higher powers watching that his mistake doesn’t get mentioned to anyone on the team or - God forbid - put into the mission report. He does his best to wipe the horrible night from his memory.

[amberbeach]

'TEST DRIVE'

gif belongs to me

You leaned over the seat to pop the hood, and Billy propped the lid while you climbed out, closing the car door before standing next to him, placing your hands on your hips.

"What are we dealing with today, doctor?"

Billy turned his head, smiling down at you. You helped him so often with the car that you had bought overalls similar to his, in a different shade of blue, and the sight was adorable in his eyes.

"It appears to require routine adjustments. I'll know more when I strip it." You bit back a grin and he shook his head, raising his eyebrows. "I was referring to the car, not myself."

Immediately you pouted, eliciting a chuckle from him before taking your place by the toolbox. You had helped him achieve the vehicle's more unique aspects and remembered many of the tools when he asked for them, but sometimes, like today, you forgot.

"There are five wrenches." You held up a wrench and he shook his head. You took out another, and set the two down when he shook his head.

"Those are too small."

You closed your eyes, and Billy quickly moved the correct wrench near your hand, ensuring it was the wrench you chose. You grinned when he took it, tightening the bolts.

The other Rangers were watching a news report inside the garage while you and Billy worked outside. You faintly heard the Rangers being mentioned in the report and observed Billy as he worked on the car. If people knew who the Rangers were, they would assign Billy as the brains of the team, and they wouldn't be wrong, however, you knew how resilient he could be. He never gave up easily and while he was not the most confident of the group, he wasn't shy either and after watching his progress in Jason's classes, you knew he was a skilled martial artist. He was much more than his intellect.

He waved a hand in front of your eyes, and you blinked, focusing on his features that lit up because of the smile on his lips. "Earth, to Y/N. Where did you go just now?"

"Krypton."

Billy shook his head, kneeling beside you, "I will have to test the enhancements, but they should improve the overall functions. Do you want to go for a drive later?"

You nodded with a smile. "I'd love to." Your smile grew, a giggle leaving your lips when you saw the oil on his cheek. Picking up a rag, you attempted to clean his cheek, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. "I think I'm making it worse. I'll go fetch some water."

You stood up, briefly resting a hand on his shoulder as you walked away, and Billy watched you head into the house, a smile on his lips. He continued to clean the oil off the tools he had used, and when you returned, he was closing the hood of the car.

He leaned against the car as you cleaned his cheek, a smile forming on his lips as he gazed at you while you focused on the task at hand. When you were satisfied, you stepped back with a smile, but before you could move too far, he caught your hand and brought you closer. Your hands instinctively rose to rest on the nape of his neck, your smile growing as his hands held your waist.

Your friends were forgotten as you leaned in, kissing tenderly, and when you pulled away moments later, they made their presence known. You blushed, burying your head in his chest as he chuckled, his cheeks darkening from the attention.

"Do you want to test the car now?" You asked quietly.

You hadn't spent a moment alone all day, and Billy knew taking the car for a test drive after his improvements was the greatest way to get some time alone. He nodded, and you tossed the blue rag next to the toolbox, following him into the car.

"Hey, where are you guys going?" Zack called out.

Billy rolled down his window, and you leaned over to answer, "We'll be back soon. Test drive."

As Billy drove off, you shuffled closer, smiling as you rested your head on his shoulder, admiring the clouds ahead, placing a hand on his chest as he drove. One hand steered the car while his free arm rested around your shoulders.

"The steering has improved." He remarked.

"Really? Maybe we should keep driving and find out. You know, in case you have to fight a monster in another country or something."

Billy knew it was an excuse for more alone time, and smiled as he looked down at you. "It could require further adjustments."

You lifted your head, returning his smile before pressing your lips to his tenderly, pulling away moments later to admire the view. There was nowhere he would rather be than with you.

[ranger-ribbons]

Power Rangers Ninja Storm Headcanons

Content warning: canon typical violence, canonical character death, mentioned child death, show spoilers

~

Kanoi Watanabe promised his wife that Cam wouldn't be a ninja, but still trained his son with a ninja's fighting style. He also found someone to train his son in the ways of a samurai after she died to honor his late wife

Cam is homeschooled, which is partly why he's so awkward around people who aren't his family or his friends (his team)

Dustin's comic book collection is vast and extensive. He has a massive amount of Power Rangers, DC, and Marvel, but also small-time comics. He also watches anime and reads manga

Shane got into skateboarding because his parents were always busy and never had time to run him anywhere, so he started skateboarding so he could take himself

Shane, Dustin, and Tori are childhood friends, they met when they were in grade school and have remained besties ever since

Cam's issue with the Wind Ninja Rangers wasn't that they're late or underperforming, it's that he knows Rangering is a dangerous business and he didn't want to get attached to Shane, Tori, and Dustin, and then lose someone else he cares about

Cam's birthday is a sensitive subject for him, he never feels like celebrating, because his mother died on the day he turned six

Cam keeps the amulet to honor his mother, but also because he's grown accustomed to wearing something around his neck. Before he, Blake, and Hunter went to retrieve their Ranger powers, Cam actually bought a jade pendant to wear around his neck just to alleviate the strange feeling of not having his mother's amulet with him

Blake and Hunter knew deep inside their hearts that Lothor was lying to them from the start, but they were blinded by grief and anger and couldn't listen to their instincts

Dustin is an "airhead" and this leads to him forgetting things more than once, which is why if it's something common or forgotten often, Tori and Shane care spares with them everywhere

Dustin has ADHD

Shane, Dustin, and Tori would kill for Cam if asked or given half a chance, Cam is their favorite person (besides each other and their s/os) and they're highly protective of him, even after he becomes a Ranger

The Ninja Rangers keep a special eye on the other Ninja teams and also the Samurai team, not because they're jealous or anything but because they're ready to jump in and help if necessary

Cam trained both Antonio Garcia and Levi Weston, he's protective of them and is always happy to take their calls. He can and has dismissed classes early when they call during those classes

The reason Cam didn't get sucked up with the rest of the school is because the Power had already chosen him. The Power protects its chosen Rangers, so Cam wasn't taken with the school when it was sucked up into the air

It took Blake and Hunter forty-five minutes to capture Cam when they went to get Kanoi. Cam doesn't hold it over their heads, but he will on occasion mention it when they're particularly cocky or arrogant (ie.: "It took you forty-five minutes to capture a regular, everyday ninja while in your morphed forms, I don't think you should talk about being 'the greatest ninja ever.'")

Cam is the youngest of the team, being a year younger than the other Rangers. Hunter is the oldest at 19, then Tori, Shane, Blake, and Dustin at 18, then Cam at 17

Hunter already graduated high school and Cam has graduated college (genius that he is), but Shane, Dustin, Tori, and Blake all graduated between Scent of a Ranger and I Love Lothor

Shane, Tori, and Dustin are Soulmates, platonic or not. Other Soulmates include: Shane and Dustin, Tori and Blake, and Hunter and Cam

Shane, Tori, Dustin, and Cam have a trauma bond, they're also quite literally ride or die, fuck with them at your own risk

Cam can and has made surveillance footage around Ninja Ops disappear when asked bribed

Blake and Hunter were adopted at the same time and have known each other since they were infants

Blake and Hunter are also wary around water, as their element is electricity

Cam both does and doesn't have a ninja element. The Wind Ninja Academy teaches the way of the Air, Earth, and Water Ninja while the Thunder Academy has a Lightning Ninja specialty, but there's no way to teach the element of Energy

Tori was Shane's original second-in-command, but once Hunter and Blake joined the team, Tori stepped back and let Hunter take his place as the second-in-command

The Wind and Thunder Morphers would be disguised as bracelets, but the Rangers never asked how to disguise them, and Cam thinks it's funny to watch them walk around with big bulky equipment on their wrists.

[Warning: child death] Cam, Kapri, and Marah are related in blood. Lothor and Kanoi had an older sister who left the family the second she turned 18 and hasn't been heard from since. The only way they knew she was still alive was Kapri and Marah's existence. Kara Watanabe, unfortunately, died in childbirth trying to deliver Kapri and Marah's baby brother, neither she nor the baby survived

Shane, Dustin, and Tori all moved to California, which is why Shane and Tori didn't think Power Rangers were real outside of comics

Dustin has a cat, Junebug. She's a grey-and-white tabby with bright green eyes. Dustin found her on the side of the road as a kid and he brought her with him to California

Cam would love to own a snake, but Kanoi has never liked snakes and Cam doesn't have time to care for one. That being said, the other Rangers get him one for his birthday and promise to help him care for the little thing. It's a beautiful yellow boa and Cam adores him. His name is Banana (courtesy of his former owner) and Cam can often be found wearing the snake around his neck or on his arm when he's not teaching a class

Cam earned a nickname only the Rangers are allowed to use for him: Camera. This is due to his exceptional work with recording devices and picture-taking. Others can try to use this nickname and Cam will either not respond, or flip said person depending on his mood

[forsakenmissives]

[dj khaled voice] anotha one (fic i might never finish)

Jamie was fucking tired of it. Roy was a fucking sight on the pitch, and Jamie knew he knew how to guide the team to greatness and had countless lessons in fame, but fuck if he wasn’t dull when it came to literally everything else.

“No,” he said, “I’m not dating your sister. I don’t even fucking want your sister!” He paused, then added, “She’s mad lovely, though. Nothing against her.”

“Last you said, she was fit,” Roy growled, because that’s the only way he's able to communicate.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s true and ‘cause it’s fun winding you up. You really never realised?”

Roy glared, though it wasn’t that much different from his expression before.

Jamie sunk deeper into his chair, defeated, and sighed. “Look, mate, your sister is fit, but have you ever considered it’s ‘cause she’s a Kent? And — and you always think I’m trying to fucking... fuck the women close to you, if not her then it’s Keeley, and look, I like them, I love Keeley, but not like that, and have you ever considered that—.” Jamie swallowed, fingers curling into his palms, nails biting into the skin. This was it; the big reveal. He could just keep his mouth shut and nothing would have to change.

But Roy just kept looking at him, and Jamie said it anyway: “Have you ever considered that all I’ve ever fucking wanted is you?”

Finally, Roy glanced away, and Jamie took a breath, then Roy closed his eyes, and Jamie saw him count to three — fucking... anger? He was angry at Jamie for this? And Jamie prepared for a fight, a fist flying at his face, even though he thought they’d left that behind in the alleyway behind the club, mostly because they were fucking shit at fistfighting, and really Jamie had just wanted Roy’s hands on him and didn’t know what else to do and it’s like a fucking primal instinct, reacting to Roy’s fire with flames of his own, but instead of punching him, Roy just shook his head and asked, “You think I’m fit?”

Jamie couldn’t help it — he laughed, and it was slightly hysteric, slightly too bright and too sharp and too much, but it was just unbelievable. That’s what it was. “Fucking hell, Roy! Yes! I’ve just had your poster up on me wall for the past fucking thirteen years for shits and giggles, yeah.”

Roy scoffed but dipped his head. “Alright. Alright.” He took a swig from his bottle, and Jamie determinedly looked away but in a way that wasn’t obvious. Still, when his eyes went back to Roy, he found Roy to already be watching him. Jamie licked his lips. Roy’s gaze lowered and followed the movement.

It wasn’t an answer, but Jamie felt confident. He leaned forward, and Roy didn’t stop him. Still, the first touch of their lips was soft and tentative and the most chaste first kiss Jamie’s ever had. He loved it, and he didn’t think about if it would happen again. He’d make sure it happens again.

When he pulled away, Roy’s eyes were still shut, and his brow was furrowed. Jamie just barely held back from tracing his tongue across his lips, curious if he’d be able to taste Roy, if there was anything in a kiss like that.

He felt like he was twelve again, sneaking around with one of the boys from the academy. But this was even more nerve-wracking because, well, it’s Roy fucking Kent, innit? National hero, Jamie’s first gay wank fantasy, probably Jamie’s greatest love after football and his mum. He’d been confident, but now he was readying for things to go tits up.

Roy opened his eyes. “You fucking mean it, then?”

Jamie blinked. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. ‘Course I mean it. I love you.” And he hadn’t meant to say that, and he for sure fucked it, but at the same time he felt lighter, like the full truth had finally been revealed.

And Roy didn’t look mad or disgusted or like he was going to up and leave Jamie there by himself at the bar, even though it was his own fucking house, and Jamie felt himself take a breath.

“Roy?” His voice was small. “You don’t have to say anything back, or, well, I’d like it if you did, but it doesn’t have to be that. Just. Just—”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah, coach?”

The glare he got in return for that was perfect, and he felt tingles all over. He smiled, hesitant. Roy rolled his eyes, grabbed the front of Jamie’s shirt, and pulled him into another kiss.

[banduckoot]

We had proposal and wedding headcanons, now it's time for the next step. Can we get some headcanons of the N Team as fathers?

You sent me this ask three years ago, and now I'm finally gonna answer it, whether you like it or not!

Dr. Neo Cortex:

Cortex would be a very loving father... who unfortunately has trouble expressing that love in a healthy manner, and has abusive means of discipline at his disposal, both due to how he was raised. Like, he cares about his children immensely, and will even spoil them with presents, but you'll rarely hear him say "I love you" or "I'm so proud of you". Usually he only says those things when he's feeling particularly emotional. He loves his children because he made them himself. They are his greatest creations... unfortunately he sees them as extensions of himself rather than their own people. So heaven forbid one of his kids turns their back on him for disciplining them too hard... or trying to give them a sad backstory that makes them turn evil like him... or some other twist of fate... he will consider it an act of betrayal and disown that child, and try to replace them with someone else. But that's just because he can't handle the heartbreak of knowing he screwed up, and he will miss that child every damn day of his life, no matter how much he denies it.

Dr. Nitrus Brio:

N. Brio never really thought about having kids, but considering how many mutants he created and helped care for (and he even helped care for Nina for a little while too), he already feels like a parent even before having one of his own. In other words, he'd be a natural at it. Would he be perfect at it? Oh god, no. N. Brio has so many issues from dealing with Cortex that likely still aren't resolved, and he's going to inflict those issues onto his little one. N. Brio's partner would have to come in and prevent this. But otherwise, N. Brio would be a good caretaker who'd be quite proud of his spawn. Though if Cortex also has a kid, N. Brio is absolutely going to try and make his child bully/humiliate them, as an act of revenge against Cortex. His partner should NOT let him do this and, instead, force N. Brio to attend therapy.

Dr. N. Gin:

N. Gin would be the most well-adjusted parent on the N. Team. He would actively support them and their interests, 1000%. He'd love them unconditionally and never hurt them intentionally. However, sometimes parenting stresses him out, and since he's prone to migraines from his missile, he needs to take breaks and let his partner take over while he recovers. I... have no other thoughts about N. Gin as a parent. Sorry this was so short.

Dr. Nefarious Tropy:

N. Tropy does not care for children. Not even a little bit. He used to be a child, and he hated it. He has dealt with other children growing up, and he hated them, too. However, if his partner wanted a child, he would absolutely have one with them, and he would love that child. He would be somewhat emotionally distant, because he has no real paternal instinct, but he would still make an effort to be there for his offspring and support them to the best of his ability. However, if that kid ends up becoming anywhere near as narcissistic as their dad, Tropy may have a new rival on his hands, and needless to say, he will not like that.

[thecinematichorse]

As we all know, many horse films produced by Hollywood are poorly done and riddled with inaccuracies in terms of how horses should be properly ridden and handled. Evidently Redford was determined to not let this happen with��The Horse Whisperer because he recruited two of the best trainers in the horse business, Buck Brannaman and Rex Peterson, to help with the film. Buck, who lives near Sheridan, Wyo., ranks as one of the very best equine clinicians today and could certainly be called a horse whisperer. In fact, author Nicholas Evans spent a great deal of time with Buck while researching horse behavior and horse handling for the book. Evans, who lives in England, also visited with Ray Hunt and Tom Dorrance.

More on the Horses

In THW, four horses are used for the role of Pilgrim, Grace’s horse who becomes so dangerous after the accident. Rex Peterson owns the three horses – High Tower, Cash, and Maverick- who play the traumatized Pilgrim who rears, strikes, and bites at anyone approaching him. One of Buck Brannaman’s horses, a registered Thoroughbred gelding named Kentucky Pet, is the “gentle” Pilgrim.

Rex Peterson provided three of what he refers to as “fighting” horses. On cue, such a horse rears, charges, paws, or bites … whatever the scene calls for. Rex’s No. 1 fighting horse is the 14-year-old gelding High Tower. A race-bred Quarter Horse, High Tower is not registered because he was a catch colt, the result of a teaser stallion getting loose one night and breeding an expensive mare. Rex bought High Tower years ago and has used him as a ranch and movie horse and for dressage, open jumping, driving, team penning, and roping wild bulls. “It’s easier to tell what we haven’t done with him,” Rex grinned. For this movie, High Tower’s greatest attribute is the ability to instantly “fight” on cue and instantly shut off on cue. He can be likened to a police K-9 dog who charges after a bad guy on cue but stops dead in his tracks when so ordered. Rex said teaching a horse to fight is easy. “It’s teaching him to stop when you tell him that’s the hard part.” High Tower excels at this, and Rex said, “I’m not afraid to let him get right in your face because he’ll quit when I tell him.” With that said, Rex gave me a personal demonstration. I stood next to him, and High Tower was about 10 feet away when Rex cued him to charge. Even though I trusted Rex, I instinctively jumped back when this 1,200-pound horse suddenly thundered toward us. But right on cue, High Tower stopped inches away from where I had been standing. Because High Tower is so honest and responds instantly to cues, he was the horse Rex always used when Redford was between them. In other words, when Pilgrim was charging Redford, Rex stood behind Redford, off camera, cueing the horse. Rex trusted High Tower to stop before freight-training the star. What’s really amazing is how quickly High Tower turns off his “anger.” After charging, attacking, or doing a biting scene, he stands calmly and quietly as if he’d been munching hay. Rex’s No.2 and 3 horses are not that way. Says Rex: “It takes about 30 minutes for the No.2 horse (Cash) to turn it off and forget it. The No. 3 horse (Maverick) … well, a fight scene is no game with him. We have to be ultra-careful with him.” Both Cash and Maverick have racing Quarter Horse bloodlines. Mike Boyle, Rex’s brother-in-law, was the head wrangler for the movie. He told me that shooting in the stall, in Connecticut where Pilgrim was confined after the accident, was extremely difficult. First of all, the horse playing Pilgrim bad to be very disinterested because he didn’t like people, he had no human friends, and he was in bad condition. He’s all to himself and doesn’t want anything to do with people or other horses. He stands off in a corner until feed is thrown into the stall. Then he has to come up like a wild horse.” Shooting a fight scene in that stall was complicated because the stall was so tight and because the horse had to express just the right attitude, then charge. Added Mike, ” It took days to get it, then we had to reshoot due to some lighting problems. So we brought the ‘detention stall’ to Montana to set up and do it all over again. We finally got a great fighting scene.”

Another equine star not mentioned yet is Buck Brannaman ‘s Rambo, who plays the role of Rimrock, Tom Booker’s No. 1 horse. Rambo, registered with the AQHA as Rambo Roman, is by True Roman, a descendant of Fair Truckle (TB). Buck has owned the 10-year-old Rambo for 5 years. Buck first saw the bay when he was brought to one of Buck’s clinics as a 3-year-old for starting under saddle. Buck’s wife, Mary, describes Rambo as being extremely sensitive to the rider, operating off featherlight cues. But Mary added that Rambo seems to adjust to other riders less skilled than Buck. That includes most of the rest of us.