#bleach one shot collection

[substituted-shinigami]

We Can't All Be Winners (a renruki anthology series)

AO3

Summary:

A series of one-shots, mostly involving Renji and Rukia living in different scenarios. What nonsense will these characters be getting up to this time? Click here to find out! (It will mostly be RenRuki, but other ships like ByaHisa and Ichihime will pop up.) First story is up, and it is a private school AU involving both Shinigami and Arrancar! (Most stories will be rated G, but some stories might be T, so I just made the whole thing T to be safe.)

I will also be posting stories here for those who prefer to read on Tumblr over AO3, so that should be up later today!

So I decided to try my hand at writing fanfiction, and I love it! And hate it! And I am mildly confused by it?! Lots of feelings in there. Anyways, I figured I should start off with one-shots since they are generally shorter, so I created an anthology series. I hope to be posting to it once a month, so if you are interested, please check it out!

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - A Messy Fight

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

On their way to face Queen, Kris and the Fun Gang run into Tasque Manager, who demands impossible standards of order. Her criticisms might feel a little too familiar to Kris...but at least the rest of the Fun Gang have their back!

YAY, it's nice to finally get another comic all finished! This one obviously had to go on hold for awhile from my wrist injury. While I'm working on recovering, things are still going to be slow for awhile (probably the rest of the year), so it may be another wait before the next scene.

Alt text for these pages under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Kris, Ralsei, Susie and Noelle walk down a long, uniform stone hallway. Eyeless porcelain gargoyles shaped like big cats stand watch from atop pillars in the hallway. As they walk, Ralsei says, “We’re getting closer to Queen’s chambers. Stay on the alert, Kris!”

Panel 2 - Kris responds with a quick “I am.” As the Fun Gang continues down the hallway, one of the porcelain gargoyles turns its head to follow them.

Panel 3 - Im a medium shot, Lancer pops up from within Susie’s hair, and waves at Kris. He says, “Hey human person, is it hard to stay alert with all that hair in your eyes?” Susie grins, and sticks out her tongue in joking agreement. “Yeah, it’s gettin’ even messier.” Unbeknownst to the Fun Gang, in the background, one of the gargoyles starts to climb down the pillar.

Panel 4 - Closeup on Kris as they brush their long and messy hair out of their face. “I can see just fine,” they respond.

Panel 5 - Two of the gargoyles land on the ground, the panel’s focus on their clawed paws tapping against the stones.

Page 2 Panel 1 - Noelle turns her head, one ear perked up to listen to what’s behind them. She says, “Wait. I hear something…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on the clawed paws of the gargoyles as they charge forward.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they turn at the sound, reaching for their sword.

Panel 4 - Wide shot of the Fun Gang. They suddenly find themselves surrounded on all sides by four porcelain big cats, all snarling as they circle them. Susie glares back.

Panel 5 - Susie turns back to Lancer, still poking out of her hair. She says, “Uugh, more jerks! Better hide again.” Lancer responds with a disappointed “Aw man…” but does as he’s asked.

Panel 6 - “What are these things?” Kris asks, eyeing a gargoyle circling them, and keeping one hand on their sword hilt. “They’re tasques!” replies Ralsei.

Page 3

Panel 1 - Ralsei turns expectantly, looking ahead. “That means that their *manager* must be near…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on an armored boot as it steps into the middle of the hall. 

Panel 3 - The boot belongs to Tasque Manager. She appears as an armored knight with impeccably polished plate armor, decorated with sharp V-shaped emblems. She appears human in stature, except for her head, which is the bleached skull of a big cat, and with pointed ears. She wields a flail with seven spiked spheres on the end of a collection of cords. She holds up her hand, and says, “Halt, interlopers! I will not permit you to approach the Queen!”

Panel 4 - The Fun Gang remain surrounded by the gargoyles, but Kris still looks ready to fight. Susie sneers at Tasque Manager, and says, “Since when do we need *your* permission?” She responds, “I maintain *order* and *cleanliness* in this dwelling.”

Panel 5 - Straight on shot of Tasque Manager’s face, emphasizing her symmetry and sense of order. “Do you truly think you are worthy…of Queen’s presence in your disorderly state?”

Page 4

Panel 1 - Full shot of the Fun Gang just staring back. They all look pretty haggard, unkempt and gross in their own ways.

Panel 2 - Same shot as previous, although now Noelle tilts her head to the side. “Um…yes?” she offers quietly.

Ralsei helpfully gestures to Kris beside him. “Certainly! Kris even bathed just two weeks ago.”

Panel 3 - Tasque Manager is not having it, and yells back at the group: “LIES!! I can see the *filth* all over you, human! I can smell your STENCH!”

Panel 4 - She continues, “You’re unfit for these halls…you belong in the wastes that you reek of!” The insults are especially focused on Kris.

Panel 5 - Kris shuts their eyes, remembering something from their past…

Panel 6 - A series of flashback images, to when Kris was just a little kid, living as an orphan on the streets. They try to sneak around the back of a food stand in the market, looking for something to eat, when they’re spotted by an empire soldier in armor.

The soldier yanks them up roughly by the shirt and yells in their face: “What’re you doing around here, you filthy urchin?! This is a *nice* place!”

The soldier then throws Kris down into the gutter, splashing street water all over them. “Go stink up a gutter where you belong!” the soldier screams. 

Page 5

Panel 1 - Kris opens their eyes again, grimacing. This is clearly an unpleasant memory for them.

Panel 2 - They pull out their sword, and point it towards Tasque Manager. “Maybe my stench will give your dull and tasteless halls some character,” they say.

Panel 3 - Extreme close up on Tasque Manager’s unnaturally sharp teeth. “Human…”

Panel 4 - “I’ll flay your filthy skin from your bones!” she shrieks, and pulls the flail tight in front of her, ready to fight.

Panel 5 - Ralsei immediately teleports out of the range of battle with a burst of flame and smoke. Kris and the beasts eye the gargoyles as they begin to close in on them.

Panel 6 - “Susie! Noelle!” Kris begins the fight by giving them the ACT command. 

Panel 7 - Closeup on Noelle as she opens her mouth and uses her icy breath attack, aiming at one of the gargoyles.

Pavel 8 - However, the gargoyle runs just out of range of the incoming frost, and sprints towards Susie’s unprotected right side.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Closeup as the gargoyle leaps onto Susie and sinks its large teeth into her side, latching on like a lamprey eel. 

Panel 2 - Susie roars in pain and anger at the gargoyle, even as another one coming in from her left bites down into an empty space on her chest.

Panel 3 - Wide shot as the beasts struggle to shake off the gargoyles, but they’re too hard to reach. One more bites into Noelle’s flank, while the last circles, looking for another opening. In the foreground, Kris faces Tasque Manager in one on one combat.

Panel 4 - Kris, being less skilled at swordfighting, only manages to block incoming hits from the flail. All the while, Tasque Manager yells at them: “You humans are so *irrational! Unorderly!*” 

Panel 5 - Tasque Manager flings the flail at Kris’s face as she continues: “Wretched, chaotic creatures…it’s horrid how the gods and demons here desire your souls!”

Panel 6 - Kris remains face to face with Tasque Manager, the flail partially wrapped around their sword…way too close to their face. Still, they are curious about her statement. “Horrid? Never come across a human soul pure enough for you?” they ask.

Page 7

Panel 1 - Tasque Manager leans in to grab the flail, as Kris struggles to keep appropriate space between them. “Never. There is no such thing as a pure human soul,” she replies. 

Panel 2 - Noelle runs in a circle with the gargoyle still attached to her flank. Behind her, Susie lashes her tail angrily, trying to shake off the two biting into her own hide.

Panel 3 - In a fit of desperation, Susie finally rolls onto her side, trying to crush the gargoyle against the stone floor. A sound like breaking glass is heard.

Panel 4 - When she raises up again, the gargoyle is now in shattered porcelain pieces on the floor, although it did leave a nasty wound behind.

Panel 5 - Noelle turns her head, noticing the shattered remains. “Oh, Susie! They break like stone!”

Panel 6 - Susie also takes note of the shattered gargoyle, and gets an idea.

Panel 7 - Thinking fast, she goes and snaps her jaws around the gargoyle on Noelle’s flank, and tears it free.

Panel 8 - Still with one more gargoyle hanging from her neck, she swings her head around in a wide arc and tosses the gargoyle in her jaws at the far wall.

Page 8

Panel 1 - The gargoyle hits a pillar by the far wall, and shatters like porcelain.

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager is momentarily drawn away from Kris as she notices her shattered minions’ remains cluttering up the pristine floor. She shakes with rage. “You’re all making…”

Panel 3 - “SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS!” she screams, and rears back to attack Kris with her flail again.

Panels 4-5 - Kris is momentarily struck by another memory, and they wince in anticipation.

Panel 6 - In a flashback scene. Kris has somehow knocked over a cart full of fruits, and they lay scattered across the cobblestones, broken and smashed. An angry vendor stands nearby. 

Meanwhile, another empire soldier is already there, and grabs Kris by the hair. “LOOK AT THIS MESS YOU’VE MADE!” he screams, shaking Kris. 

Panel 7 - Tasque Manager charges forward, the flail coming in fast at Kris…

Panel 8 - And hits home, striking the, in the head, above their eye. Blood bursts from the head wound.

Page 9

Panel 1 - “KRIS!!” Closeup on Ralsei as he yells in alarm, his eyes wide.

Panel 2 - Kris staggers backward, shaking, and pressing their left hand to their temple.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Kris pulls their hand away, and finds it covered in blood.

Panel 4 -  Meanwhile, Susie rolls onto her chest again, crushing the gargoyle on her neck against the floor. It crunches into pieces like the others.

Panel 5 - In the background, Susie gets up and brushes the remaining shards off her neck. In the foreground, Noelle stomps the remaining gargoyle into pieces with her hooves.

Panel 6 - Kris turns and looks up at Tasque Manager. She raises her flail to strike once again. 

Panel 7 - Despite the fact that Kris is bleeding considerably from the head wound, they smile with realization, and charge in towards Tasque Manager. “The best part about human messes…”

Panel 8 - Tasque Manager takes a wide swing with her flail, but Kris swiftly ducks under it, and slides in close to her. 

Page 10

Panel 1 - Kris finishes, “Is that you can *always* make them worse!” Kris leaps up in front of Tasque Manager, and smears the blood on their hand across her polished breastplate. 

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager pulls back and shrieks in horror at the bloody stain on her armor, both arms raised.

Panel 3 - Kris pulls back, their head still bleeding, and points decisively at Tasque Manager. Noelle and Susie are standing ready behind them, and they give the [FIGHT] command.

Panel 4 - Tasque Manager tries in vain to wipe the blood off her armor, temporarily distracted…

Panel 5 - Which is enough time for Susie to come in from above and snap her jaws around Tasque Manager. She screams, and drops her flail.

Panel 6 - In a wider shot, Kris and Noelle look on as Noelle violently shakes her head with Tasque Manager in her jaws, like a dog shaking a chew toy. Pieces of her armor fly out as she’s tossed back and forth.

Page 11

Panel 1 - Finished with her attack, Susie spits out Tasque Manager, now a complete disassembled mess of armor and bone. Her pieces scatter across the stone floor.

Panel 2 - Noelle opens her mouth wide, and uses her frost breath again…

Panel 3 - …And her icy breath freezes the scattered pieces to the floor, leaving no chance of an easy reforming. Kris watches as the cat skull head skids free of the rest of the mess…

Panel 4 - And slides to a stop by their feet. Although broken up and frozen, Tasque Manager’s severed head can still speak, albeit weakly. “So disordered…scattered…filthy…”

Panel 5 - Low angle shot at the skull glares up at Kris with contempt. Kris has won, but she still has last insults to get in: “No wonder…you were discarded…”

Panel 6 - Kris closes their eyes again, another flashback coming back…

Panel 7 - Another series of flashback images to a younger, orphan Kris. They’re hiding in a pile of trash behind some boxes, shivering, terrified of encountering another soldier. Someone else can be seen approaching.

“Hey…” Kris looks up from their hiding position at the sound of a calmer voice. They see a hand being extended to them.

The hand belongs to a younger Asriel, reaching down to help them up. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Page 12 Panel 1 - Back in the present, Ralsei approaches Kris again, putting a reassuring hand on their shoulder. He smiles down at them. “Well done, Kris! We’re that much closer to Queen now.”

Panel 2 - Higher shot as the Fun Gang begins to regroup ans start back down the hall again. Susie leans back towards the frozen and broken Tasque Manager with a taunt: “Good luck cleaning *that* up, you stupid snob!”

Panel 3 - Lancer pops back out of Susie’s hair, one hand raised to his head to look around. “Did we win?” he asks.

“Obviously!” Susie replies with a grin.

Panel 4 - Lancer turns to Kris, who is walking at the head of the party. “Wow! I guess you really *can* see through that string bean hair!” Kris is still injured and messy, but doesn’t seem to mind. “Well enough.”

Panel 5 - A shot from behind the Fun Gang as they continue down the dark hall, heading towards the Queen. Behind them lies a giant mess of shattered porcelain, frozen armor pieces and broken bones. “You know…” Kris says, “I think I will let it grow wild and ugly for the foreseeable future.”

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Breaking Dishes - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

🪄 re-uploaded because I had to make a new account

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warning: SMUT, lots of pet names, lovey Rafe, friends to lovers, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v

📖 Rafe’s best friend helps him make the best of his buzz cut era and he gets whatever he’d like in exchange.

✨"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.

"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.

"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn't you? I've seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin' it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.✨

2.8k (<- mostly smut)

Readers POV:

“It hurts.”

“Does it hurt? Or does it itch? There’s a difference.

"Both, Y/N… This is fuckin’ stupid.”

“No. Nah. Nope… What was stupid was the fact that you, a grown-ass man, didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“That’s what you’re for.”

You flick your eyes from his hair to the mirror, catching him with your death stare. “Keep going." He gives you a shit-eating grin, making you fight off a smile of your own.

"This has to be done." He looks at his hair in the mirror, the bleach altering his dark blonde buzz to an icy white.”

“Almost," you sing, running your polished nail through the bleach, eyeing your work.

"And I get whatever I want if I do this. Yeah?”

“Anything you’d like.”

Anything.

It started simply with you and Rafe. He looked like a pouty little man-child, holding his Ralph Lauren polo by the shoulders, his privilege showing as he eyed the streaked bleach stain across the front. This sort of shit had gone on for days. First, it was no detergent, then fabric softener only, followed by straight bleach on the third day. He looked pathetic, desperate to accomplish this simple task. You helped him on the fourth day, sparking a friendship in the process, making your first year at college a little easier.

There was so much stuff he just didn’t know how to do… Stuff that he could fully figure out on his own, but if he did… Then, he wouldn’t need you. And both of you knew that.

There was a spark. There always was. But this time, it was a loaded exchange. You do this for me, and I’ll do anything you’d like, Rafey.

“Purple shampoo?” He mumbles.

“I’m being proactive. Gotta tone it. Don’t question it,” you giggle, emulsifying the shampoo, watching the suds and bleach swirl down the sink. “Gah… Looks so fucking good." He grunts in reply. "Stay here." You run over to the rack, grabbing a fluffy white towel. "Stop!”

“What? Why? It’s my hair, Y/N. Jesus fuck.”

“‘Cause… It’s a surprise," you practically growl out the words through your excitement, swathing the towel around his head, pawing out the water.

"What am I gonna do if this looks like shit?”

“It won’t. It won’t," you smile. "What are you gonna tell Topper?" 

"That I lost a bet. I don’t know. You’re takin’ advantage of me, y/n.”

“You’re the only person I know with a buzz cut, Cameron. It fits your aesthetic. Lean into it.”

“I’m not leaning into shit.”

“Stand up.” You feel your cheeks redden as Rafe rises from his hunched-over position in the sink, his muscular frame bare, just a pair of gray sweats on his tight body. “You blushing, Y/N?" He asks as a cocky smile spreads on his lips. You bite yours, casting your gaze away as you try to collect yourself. "I look that good. Huh?" He taunts, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to his. You stare into reach beautiful baby blues, feeling your heart start to race.

"Yeah, Cameron.”

He bites his cheek, holding back an all-too-wide smile as his cheeks redden as well. You reach up, tapping the high point of his face, silently calling him out. “Got me," he whispers, making your heart flutter. "Alright… So, can I look?" You smile and nod. Rafe turns on his heels, eyes widening as he takes himself in. He goes through all the emotions at once, landing on a meh. His lip tugs slightly, shoulders shrugging in acceptance."It’s not that bad…”

“I love it," you praise, smiling brightly back at him.

"You’re way too fuckin’ excited about this, Y/N.”

“Nah… You wouldn’t get it.”

“M'Kay. What now?” He cops a slight attitude, unenthused with the rest of your request. You snatch your phone out of your pocket, flicking to your camera, turning it on record. “NO!" He rips it out of your hand, turning it off before passing it back.

"What…" You pout.

"The fuck do you have to record this for?”

“Me!”

“What are you gonna do with it, Y/N? This goes nowhere.”

“It’s just for me, Rafey. Jesus Christ. Calm your tits.”

“Don’t tell me to calm my tits," he huffs. "I’m so fuckin’ serious, Y/N.”

“I promise,” you answer earnestly. “And, you have to say the thing.”

“I forgot.”

“Bullshit.”

“When?” He crosses his arms before his chest, his hip popped slightly.

“After I start the song, of course,” you tease. “Alexa play Breaking Dishes by Rihanna.”

“This is weird,” he snips, looking down at you disgustingly.

“It’s alright, baby girl. You don’t have to get it.”

“Don’t call me baby girl, Y/N,” he huffs as the song starts to build.

“Fine. Alright, Rafey. Lights, Camera, Action.”

“A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an…”

Rafe rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth, throwing his arms to his sides. His ab muscles flex more than before, making you squeal internally. Fuck, he looks good.  Your eyes widen, threatening him with your glare to say his fucking line. “Snow always lands on top.”

“Ah! Yes, Rafey!” You press the little red button, ending the recording, letting out a delighted squeal before jumping into his arms. His eyes fall down your body, roaming back up nice and slow. Rafe’s gaze gets stuck on your lips, wetting his own, tension building between the two of you as you wait to see if he’ll ask for what you both want.

“You know, Y/N… I wouldn’t do this shit for anybody else," he mumbles. 

"I know," you smile. "So, what do you want, Rafe?" You ask, drawing his focus back to your gaze.

"Helped you set up that big mirror last week," he rasps.

"Mhmm…”

“Wanna fuck you in front of it, Y/N." You feel your stomach flip, your heart instantly picks up pace.

"Oh.”

“That okay?" He asks, leaning in slightly.

"Yeah… That’s okay.”

“You want that?" He smiles; his lips mere centimeters from yours, breathing softly against yours.

"Yeah.”

“Words, Y/N," he whispers.

"I want you to fuck me in front of the mirror, Rafe," you respond, voice hoarse and breathy as your nerves start to get the better of you. Everything fades away as Rafe’s lips crash into yours, taking your breath away, claiming your mouth against his. Heat rolls over your skin. Your body starts to tingle, hands moving from his neck, wrapping around his broad shoulders tightly, drawing him closer. His lips are sweet, just like you expected. A soft moan escapes your lips, landing in his. You feel him smile against your kiss, making you do the same.

"You sure this is okay?" He mumbles between kisses as he walks with you into your bedroom.

”Perfect.“ Rafe’s tongue slips through your lips, greeting yours, rolling softly with your rhythm. Fuck… He draws back from you, looking at the two of you in the mirror. 

"First thing I thought about when you asked me to put this up, Y/N. Been thinkin’ about it ever since.”

“Yeah?" You smile as you look back into his blue jean eyes. "Why do you think I bought it?" His smile shifts to a smirk at the sound of your admittance. Rafe sets you down, making quick work of your clothing, peeling it off between kisses. You bite your lip as your fingers dance over the indentations of his muscles, working down to his waistband, his slutty gray sweats. You work the material over his thighs and down to his ankles. He kicks them off, just a pair of white cotton Calvin’s on his large frame. You take your time, revealing his thick cock inch by inch. His dick springs free, standing straight; a bead of cum gathered on his swollen tip.

His rough fingers ghost over your soft skin. Rafe takes hold of your breasts, pressing them together. His touch lightens, feather-soft circle over your nipples. "Rafe," you whine as you throw your head back. His mouth quickly greets your skin, sucking harshly, skimming and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue. His hands roam down your body as his lips return to yours. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s happening. Rafe’s hand disappears between your thighs, making you moan. He runs his finger along your silk. 

"So fucking wet for me, y/n," he hums, turning you to face the mirror. You feel your whole body start to pulse, every nerve firing hot. Rafe’s fingers meet your bud, circling softly. You’d always look at his hands, wondering what they could do. 

"Feels so good," you whine, causing him to chuckle sinfully. Rafe pulls another moan out of your parted lips, his dark gaze matching yours over your shoulder. He adds a second finger, curling it inside of you, thrusting in and out. Rafe moves his thumb to your clit, adding a little more pressure. 

"I’ve always wanted you," He growls, lips grazing your ear.

"Yeah," you mewl.

"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.

"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.

"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn’t you? I’ve seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin’ it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.

"Yes! Yes." You cry. Your thighs start to tremble. Rafe’s lips lock on your neck, licking you, marking you as his own. "I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, baby. I know," he whispers against your skin. ”Can you be a good girl and cum when I tell you?“

”Rafe, I… S-Shit.“ Your eyes flick open, resting on him as you fight back your pleasure, Rafe working against you, trying his very best to push you over the holding.

"Cum.”

“Fuck!" You lose yourself, fluttering around his fingers. He continues to please you, toiling harder and quicker than before. Your lips crash into his, cries of pleasure against his mouth. The two of you are breathing heavily. Rafe sucks off your bottom lip slowly.

"I can’t wait to have you, y/n," he groans huskily. ”Fuck. That was beautiful.“ Rafe wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "How was that, baby?” He drawls.

“Fantastic… Holy shit.”

His hands fall down your skin, landing on your hips, turning you before pulling you close. Rafe circles your ass, squeezing you, giving you a little spank. Your urges are too strong. You just can’t resist.

You throw yourself in his arms, lips locking with his. He moans into your kiss, tongue rolling with yours. Your hands grasp the front of his thighs, nails sinking in slightly.

You drag your fingers down his tight body. A smile spreads on Rafe’s lips as you wrap your hands around his thick dick.

“Shit, y/n," he chuckles raspily as you fall to your knees.

"Can I suck your cock, Rafey?”

“Mmm… Mhmm," he groans, a lusty chuckle leaving his lips. ”Hell fucking yes, Y/N.“ You feel your confidence building by the moment. You swirl your tongue on his velvety head, collecting his precum on your tongue. Rafe takes a sharp breath, followed by a loose, drawn-out moan.

"I’ve always wanted you in my mouth, Rafe," you pant. You trace the head of his shaft, lips close, breathing warmly against him. "Do you want my mouth?" You whisper onto his tip, his lashes flutter.

"Ugh, Shit. Yes, y/n," he groans. "I need your mouth on my cock." His voice is coarse and delicious, driving you wild. You flatten your tongue, licking him from base to tip. Rafe’s fingers rake through your hair, his hands gripping the back of your head.

His hips thrust into your mouth slowly, pushing you to see how far he can go. He draws out, your tongue swirls to the tip. "Fuck me, Y/N," Rafe hums. The grip on your hair tightens.

Each thrust is deeper than the next, a soft swirl to his tip. Your eyes start to water. Rafe readjusts his stance, his eyebrows furrowing. Bringing your hands up to his balls, you play with them as well. Rafe bites his lips, grunting with each thrust as he starts to buck his hips into your mouth. You’re choking on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks. You bring your fingers down to your warmth, pleasing yourself as well.

”Y/n,“ Rafe grunts, taking notice; his breathing increases. "You’re going to make me cum, baby," he sears. He adjusts his stance, thighs quaking. ”Mmm… Y/n. I can’t wait to have you. I’m going to fuckin’ ruin you, Y/N,“ he growls, eyes pinched shut. Hollowing your cheeks, you increase your suction, causing his lips to part. You feel his dick twitch on your tongue. Rafe thrusts into you roughly, his climax spilling deep into your throat. He throws his head back again, holding yours against him as you scratch your nails along his ass. "Y/n, f-fuck," he pants, breathing rapidly. ”Ugh… Holy shit.“ You come off him slowly, eyes set on him. "Best blowjob of my life..”

“Stop,” you giggle.

“Fuck, y/n. I mean it." He helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you in tightly. He presses a kiss against your forehead, breathing rapidly, still coming down from his climax. "Can’t wait to taste you, Y/N?”

“M'so wet…" You hum, fanning the flame. His eyes darken, trailing your curves before tossing you down on the bed. You feel your pussy throb, craving Rafe’s lips; his fingers; his cock. He wraps his arms around your thighs, drawing you toward his face.

You throw your arms above your head, arching your back as his tongue glides through your silk. "Shit," you mewl as you feel the warmth of his mouth, and the whisper of his breath against your sex. Rafe buries himself between your thighs, nose brushing your clit; tongue dipping into your entrance. Your heart starts to race again. You prop yourself up on your elbow, meeting his stare. Drawing your hands up your body, you take hold of your breasts. Rafe moans against your pussy, watching as you play with yourself.

He whispers your name softly against your clit; you toss your head back. Feeling the roughness of his hand against your stomach, working higher. Rafe palms your breast, rolling your nipple softly between his fingers. You feel your pleasure building. Your body moves, grinding your hips to get a little more friction. Rafe’s hand lowers, your anticipation builds. He licks a line up your slit. His fingers toy with your entrance. "Rafe, please," you wail, your thighs widening, pressure building in between. "Ugh… Fuck!" You cry. Rafe sinks two fingers deep, his soft lips sucking roughly. Your thighs start to quiver as he thrusts his digits in and out.

”Can you cum on my fingers?“ He breathes. "Can you soak my hand for me?”

“Yes… Yes.”

“Mmm… My cock’s gonna feel so good sliding in and out of this pretty pussy, Y/N.”

“Yes!" You punch out the word, back arching off the bed. You feel your release, just like he asked, making a mess of his hand as you grip the sheets. You can hear the sound of it. His fingers working sloppily, in and out.

"Baby…" You stutter, relaxing around his fingers, craving more. Rafe grips your hips in his strong hands, tugging you even closer to the edge. You tilt your head up, watching as he takes a grip on his cock, hard and throbbing. Your eyes shift as he guides himself closer. He seizes himself by the base, tapping his dick against your clit. Your thighs tremble with each touch, spurs of pleasure, your sensitivity at an all-time high.

"So fucking wet," he praises. Rafe’s hands shift, taking a harsh hold on the back of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. "Mmm… Hold these f'me," he groans. You relax your head to the side as Rafe runs his tips through your silk, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, a smile spreading on his lips.

His mouth parts, mirroring yours as his cock starts to stretch you out. You let out a soft whimper, your eyebrows knit as he gives you all of him. Every inch pushes you to your limit; your eyes roll back as he draws out, quickly thrusting back in.

Your hands grab his forearms, holding on tightly, drawing him closer, pulling him deeper. "Look at me, Y/N," he moans, his eyes shifting from the mirror, driving into yours. He leans into you, folding you in half, pinning your thighs against the bed as he kisses you deeply. Your tongues intertwine, moaning and blissful cries are exchanged between your lips.

You separate slightly, breathing rapidly, lips hovering close. His skin slaps against yours, your forehead, nestled against his. "You’re so fuckin’ beautiful," he pants.

”God, this feels so good.“

"So good, baby," he echoes. Rafe picks up speed, feeling your walls drawn in around him. His strong hands grip your hips, using them as leverage to drive deeper.

You throw your head back, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself about to fall apart. Your mouth draws open, a string of curses and praise flow freely. Rafe’s lips lock onto your nipple, sucking hard.

"Rafe. Fuck!” Your pleasure releases, your body pulses around his shaft. Your hands reach for him, pulling slightly, tugging him toward your lips. Rafe picks you up swiftly, taking a seat on the bed, his cock still deep inside.

“Are you okay?" He pants with a smile.

"So good… So fucking good.”

You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe starts to bounce on the mattress. His breathing increases; you can tell he’s close. Grabbing his shoulders, you press him down on the bed. Rafe’s hands squeeze your ass tightly, guiding you, setting a rapid tempo. “Fuck… Ugh," he whimpers. "I’m gonna cum.” He takes you by surprise, drawing out quickly, rolling you to your back.

He plunges back in, reaching for air as he grunts and moans incoherent words. “I’m cumming… Shit," he groans as he climaxes. Rafe continues to drive his release deeper. He presses his lips and body against yours, rocking slowly to a stop.

"Holy shit…." he pants, holding you close. Rafe nuzzles himself into your neck, breathing rapidly as he kisses you softly. You sigh blissfully, relaxing into the bed, giving him better access to your skin. His lips work over your neck, moving up to your jaw.

"So…" he whispers.

"So," you giggle, your heart racing rapidly against his.

"I like you, Y/N, if that’s not clear. And that… Fuck. That was so damn good," he groans blissfully.

"I like you too," you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently.

"And, just so we’re crystal clear, you pictured yourself fuckin’ me and not…" He points to his hair, narrowing his eyes on yours.

"Rafe? No, President Snow. Of course, I pictured myself fucking you and not Rafe Cameron.”

“Brat." He spanks your ass, making you yelp.

"Fuck, Rafe!” You whine as you look back, watching the print shift from white to red.

“Ah, shit. You don’t like it rough, Y/N?" He taunts through a snickering laugh. You lower your lips to him, brushing gently.

"You owe me now, Rafey… Round two. I like it rough.”

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[britany1997]

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Five

Well y’all, it’s been a month so you know what that means:):) Hope you enjoy the next installment in the series! I can’t wait to show y’all how this fic is going to develop even further!

Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

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FYFNO Masterlist

California, 1986

The boys were too stunned to speak.

Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”

You pulled away from Maria’s embrace when a familiar voice shattered your moment. You sighed, pushing your frustration down and turning to glare at the blond menace.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

The same feeling you’d had when you’d met Paul a couple weeks ago surged through you once more as you met eyes with each of his friends.

The bleach blond one looked disgusted, almost angry, with his eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed into a sneer.

The curly haired one bit his gloved thumb, his eyes skittered back and forth between you, Maria, and his friends. He bounced, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, practically vibrating.

The dark haired one was unreadable. Your eyes narrowed as you took in his expression. You searched for nervousness, anger, sadness, anything. But his face revealed nothing, it was almost intriguing.

Paul looked broken. His mouth slightly agape and his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy. Despite his pitiful appearance, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any remorse.

You reminded yourself that you’d always been entitled to make your own damn choices.

The little utterances of “mine” that broke through their lips meant nothing to you. You had never belonged to anyone but yourself. And you had always been your own to give.

You crossed your arms and scowled, daring them to intrude any further on your time with Maria.

You felt a hand slide along your cheek, turning your head slowly until you were faced with your lover.

“Hey,” she soothed, staring into your eyes with a slightly nervous gaze. You softened immediately.

“It’s getting late, we’re already closed, and it seems like you need to talk this out,” she said gently.

You took her soft hands in your own. “No, please don’t go,” you pleaded, “it’s them who should leave.”

When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“We’re working the night shift together tomorrow,” she reminded you, “figure this out ok? I’ll be here.”

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll always be here for you ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered back as you stroked her face softly, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks.

Paul cleared his throat loudly and you shot him a glare that would have peeled paint.

Maria’s hand over yours calmed you down just a bit. She reassured you with a smile before she slipped out the front door.

With Maria gone, you were free to feel the depth of your frustration at the four men before you.

“What do you want?” You grit out through clenched teeth.

Paul threw up his hands, “what is wrong with you?”

Your face flushed red, half with embarrassment, and half with anger. You clenched your fists. Nothing was wrong with you. Something was clearly wrong with him because he couldn’t. take. a hint.

The dark haired vampire shot Paul a look that seemed to reign him in. Then he stepped forward to put himself between you and the three other men.

“I’m Dwayne,” he introduced himself gently, his face still devoid of any emotion.

“Ok,” you spat, “congratulations.”

His mask broke a bit, looking slightly taken aback by your hostility, but he quickly composed himself.

“We just want to talk,” he said, his hands up in a sort of surrender, “let us explain some things to you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and without Maria there to diffuse the situation, your arms crossed again.

“Explain things to me?” You felt rage bubbling up inside you, “what could you possibly have to explain to me?”

Dwayne, to his credit, maintained his calm, collected demeanor. The bleach blond however seemed to be seething behind him.

“It’s hard to know where to start…we’re your-”

“I know.” You cut him off.

“You know?”

“I know what you are, and I know what we are,” you flashed him your fangs.

The four boys couldn’t hide their shock. The bleach blond one pushed past Dwayne to stare you down. “You’re not a human,” he mused.

Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder, “David…” he warned.

David rolled his shoulder to shove off Dwayne’s hand.

“Listen sweetheart,”

You scowled at the pointed nickname.

“You’re ours,” Paul cringed at David’s words.

“The sooner you get it through your thick head,” David tapped your forehead, causing you to bare your teeth, “the better.”

“Oh fuck,” Paul whispered.

You stared David down, your body shaking slightly in anger. “If you ever fucking touch me again I will rip your head from your shoulders and burn your decapitated body you arrogant asshole,” You hissed.

He hissed back, his fangs on full display.

“David please,” the curly hair vampire begged.

“Marko,” David turned to growl, “I won’t tolerate this kind of insubordination.”

You gripped the edge of the video store desk so hard you thought it might break off.

Dwayne yanked David back by his arm. With the way the bleach blond man glared at the him you thought they might come to blows.

“Do you think you’re helping right now?” Dwayne asked.

David rolled his eyes, “she’s disrespecting me, she’s disrespecting us.” he glared at you.

You scowled back, trying to seem unfazed by his egotistical display.

“Is that what she’s doing?” Dwayne asked, “or is she setting boundaries and making choices you don’t like?”

Your hostile face dissolved to shock. You weren’t expecting that kind of support.

“Love can’t be forced,” Dwayne continued, “you know that, I know you know that.”

David stared at Dwayne before sighing deeply.

You tensed when he moved towards you. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

You scoffed, “yeah that’s what he said,” you hooked your thumb towards Paul, “I’ll tell you what I told him. It sure seems like it is.”

David’s eyes narrowed but he kept his mouth shut.

“C’mon boys,” he gestured for the men to follow him out of the store.

Dwayne didn’t even glance back as he left.

Marko shot you a longing look, but when you looked away, he sighed before following Dwayne out the door.

Paul lingered. He opened his mouth, only to close it, time after time.

“What do you want?” you scowled.

“We could make you happy,” he said in the softest voice you’d ever heard. “I could make you happy.”

You stared at him, his eyes full of hope and desire.

“If you really want me to be happy…”

He moved closer, hanging on every word you said. His fists clenched at his side, desperate to touch you but holding back.

“Then I need you to leave me alone.”

His face fell, any hope in his eyes had shattered and dissolved.

He turned away, dead heart breaking in his chest.

“Ok,” was all he could muster as he too disappeared from the store.

As soon as he’d slipped from sight, you rushed to the front door to flip the sign from open to closed.

Grateful for the solace that an empty store provided, you slunk to the back room to mull over the events of the night.

You slid down the door until you were seated, head in hands. Part of you wondered if it would be so bad to give in. The Dwayne guy seemed respectful and kind enough, and if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t unattracted to him either.

If you were really honest, you weren’t unattracted to any of them. Except that David asshole.

It wasn’t his face that bothered you, but his abismal attitude. He might as well have been Max Jr.

He didn’t own you. No one fucking did.

Then there was Maria.

Her beautiful face flashed through your mind. She was kind, she was brilliant, she was caring, and you could see yourself falling for her one day.

God you’d had your first kiss with Maria tonight and you were thinking about those possessive vamps?

How could you ever consider trading her in for these four strangers with nothing but some kind of empty ‘claim’ on you.

You sighed.

You couldn’t deny that you’d felt the pull. You blamed your stupid, uncontrollable vampire instincts.

But what was lust, passion, and desire when compared with connection, comfort, and love?

Maria was the one you wanted. You chose her, and you’d do what you had to to keep her.

Whatever it took.

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[j23r23]

Getaway Heart

Tangerine x Reader - angst & fluff

Warnings: blood & vomit

You’ve been a getaway driver since you got your license at 18, maneuvering through the streets with audacity and precision that caught the eye of all the right, and wrong, people. For the past ten years, you worked alone in the shadows, carving out a reputation as the go-to driver for high-stake jobs.

On a rainy evening, the twins handler, a no-nonsense woman with a penchant for dark sunglasses and cryptic instructions, invited you to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Madrid. The place smelled of oil and rubber. There she introduced you to the two men known only by their code names: Tangerine and Lemon. They were looking for a reliable driver, and their handler thought you fit the bill. You knew the Fruits were renowned in the industry for being very good at what they do but were slightly unhinged.

Tangerine was the first to step forward. He was tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect you with a single glance. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that contrasted starkly with the grime of the warehouse, he exuded an air of sophistication and control. His voice was smooth, almost velvety, “So, you’re the driver everyone’s talking about,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lemon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shorter and more muscular, he had a rugged look about him, with bleached hair and an unpredictable glare. His attire was casual— black jeans and a denim jacket—giving off a more approachable vibe. In his hand, he toyed with a small sticker book, flicking it absentmindedly as he watched you.

The initial meeting didn’t go smoothly. Tangerine’s aloof demeanor and Lemon’s staring put you on edge. Tangerine scrutinized your every word and movement, as if searching for a weakness, while Lemon tested your patience with his relentless talk about trains.

“Look, love” Tangerine finally said, crossing his arms, “we don’t have time for screw-ups. We need someone who can handle the heat and think on their feet. Can you do that?”

You met his gaze, your jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that hesitation can get you killed. I can handle the heat. Question is, can you keep up? Oh, and the names Orange, love.”

There was a moment of silence before Lemon burst into laughter. “I like this one,” he said, clapping Tangerine on the shoulder. “Got some fire in her.”

Tangerine’s lips curled into a faint smile, the first sign of approval. “Alright Orange,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The memory made you grin.

Right after meeting the twins you had your first job together and it was utter chaos—shit hit the fan, sirens blaring, guns a blazing and the scent of burnt rubber hanging heavy in the air. You were behind the wheel, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigated the streets of Madrid with precision.

"Tangerine, we've got company!" Lemon's tone was annoyed.

Tangerine, cool and collected, leaned out of the window, firing off shots with deadly accuracy. "I can see that, Lemon! Im not blind!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, as the banter between the twins was getting on your nerves. "Would you two save the chatter for later? I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Lemon laughed. "Relax, Orange, we've got this under control."

You just sighed in annoyance and literally put your foot down, pushing the pedal to the metal.

Tangerine, sitting in the seat behind you, clung to the door handle, as hes being pushed back by the force of the speeding car. "Bloody hell, Orange? " he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation.

Lemon, in the backseat, looked even worse. His face was pale, and he was gripping the headrest in front of him for dear life. "For the love of all that's holy, slow down!”

You smirked, your eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. "Relax, boys. Let me do my job and i let you do yours" you said, narrowly missing a pedestrian who decided now was the perfect time to jaywalk.

"Relax? Relax?!" Tangerine's voice went up an octave. "We’ve got the entire Mafia of Madrid after us, how in hell am i supposed to work when you’re driving like a maniac!"

You took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in protest. The car tilted dangerously, but you managed to keep it from flipping. Lemon made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "If we die, I’m haunting your ass!"

"Hold on to something!" you yelled, spotting a narrow alleyway ahead. Without hesitation, you swerved into it, the car barely fitting between the buildings. The side mirrors scraped against the brick walls, sending sparks flying.

Tangerine’s knuckles were white from gripping the door handle. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

You chuckled, adrenaline pumping through your veins. "I got hired for my driving skills, remember?"

Lemon let out a strangled laugh. "Skills? More like suicidal tendencies!"

As you burst out of the alley and back onto a busy street, a car tried to cut you off. With a quick flick of the wheel, you sideswiped it, sending it crashing into a parked truck. "One down, a few dozen to go," you quipped, glancing at your handiwork in the mirror.

"Just keep us in one piece!" Tangerine barked, looking both impressed and terrified.

You sped towards an upcoming construction site, an idea forming in your mind. "Hold tight," you warned, accelerating even more.

"Oh hell no!" Lemon groaned, clearly dreading your next move.

You aimed for a ramp leading up to a half-built overpass. As the car launched into the air, all three of you screamed—though in your case, it was more of a whoop of excitement. The car soared over the gap, landing with a bone-jarring thud on the other side. The cars that are chasing you weren’t so lucky; the first few smashed into the gap, creating a massive pileup.

Tangerine looked at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps. "You’re absolutely mad, you know that?"

Lemon, still clutching the headrest, nodded fervently. "Completely off your rocker."

You gave them a cheeky grin. "But i got rid of them, no?"

As the car sped away from the chaos behind, Tangerines eyes still held a hint of disbelief. "You’re a bloody lunatic!"

Lemon slumped back in his seat, finally letting go of the headrest. "Next time, I’m driving."

You laughed, the thrill of the chase still coursing through you. "Sure."

After a few more sharp turns you finally pull into a secluded garage. You killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the chaos.

"You two okay back there?" you had asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

Lemon had groaned, his face pale as a sheet. "I think I'm gonna be sick, now that we stopped," he had mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Tangerine had shot him a glare before leaning out of the window, retching onto the pavement. "Yeah, and somehow we made it out alive!” he had grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn in your seat looking at the boys smiling. Tangerine shook his head, laughing despite himself. “But remind me never to question your driving skills again.”

“Deal” you replied with a grin.

After that night, the three of you went through countless jobs together, facing danger with unwavering trust in one another. As time passed, your feelings toward Tangerine began to change. Working alongside him, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he flashed a rare smile or the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The more jobs you pulled, the deeper your affection for him grew, and the harder it became to suppress your emotions.

And now, something feels off. As you sit in the driver's seat of your idling car, the engine's purr does little to calm your anxious nerves. The night is heavy with tension, the rearview mirror becoming your only solace. You glance back repeatedly, your mind racing through every possible outcome of tonight's job.

Tonight's mission was supposed to be a straightforward smash and grab. The target: a high-end jewelry store fronting as a money laundering operation for one of the city's major crime syndicates in London. Intelligence indicated minimal security—just a couple of guards, easily neutralized. Tangerine and Lemon were tasked with infiltrating, grabbing the goods, and getting out before anyone noticed. Simple, clean, efficient.

You were parked in the back alley of the building, engine running, ready for the signal. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an hour. Something gnawed at your gut, a premonition that things weren't going according to plan. You'd run through every escape route, every contingency, but no amount of planning could shake the unease that had settled over you.

The longer you waited, the more your thoughts drifted back to Tangerine. His smile, his confidence, the way he always seemed to know what to say to calm you down. You remember the first time he took a bullet for you. He had laughed it off, calling you a softie for worrying. That was Tangerine—fearless, almost reckless, but with a heart that beat fiercely for those he cared about.

You trusted them both with your life, but tonight, that trust felt more like a lifeline, taut and fraying with each passing second.

The rearview mirror offers no new insights, just the darkened street and the distant sounds of the city. You grip the steering wheel tighter. You can almost hear Tangerine’s voice, telling you to stay calm, to trust the plan. But the plan is starting to feel like a distant memory, overshadowed by a growing fear that this time, things won’t go as smoothly as they always have.

And then, like a thunderclap, the back door of the building bursts open.

Suddenly, Lemon charges through the back door of the building, supporting a hunched over Tangerine. It's clear that this simple job has gone terribly wrong. As they stagger closer, you see the blood—Tangerine is losing a lot of it. You reverse the car and drive towards them. Lemon yanks open the back door, practically shoving Tangerine inside before he climbs in himself.

"Go, go, go!" Lemon shouts, urgency in his voice.

You change immediately into first and slam the gas pedal to the floor, the tires screeching as the car lurches forward. The doors are barely closed, but you don’t have time to worry about that. In the rearview mirror, you see Lemon struggling to put pressure on one of Tangerines wounds, while the latter squirms in pain.

"What the fuck happened?" you demand, weaving through traffic with precision.

"Tangerine underestimated the Job, didn't wear his west and got shot," Lemon replies, his voice strained. Tangerine just groans, clearly in too much pain to speak.

"You didn't wear your fucking west?" you scoff, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. "You always chastise us when we're not wearing one, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"Yeah, well," Tangerine mutters in pain, "we all make mistakes."

You maneuver through the city's maze-like streets, dodging late-night traffic and running red lights. The city's neon lights cast eerie reflections inside the car, illuminating the tense scene. The smell of blood fills the air, and you can hear Tangerine's labored breathing from the back seat.

"You better not die on me, Tangerine," you say, your voice tight with a mixture of fear and anger. "I’m not dealing with your expensive funeral."

Tangerine tries to laugh, but it turns into a pained groan. "Always… so considerate," he manages to say between gasps.

"Save your strength, mate," Lemon says, pressing another wad of cloth against Tangerine's bleeding abdomen. "We need you to stay awake."

The car roars down a narrow alleyway, the tires barely gripping the slick pavement as you take a sharp turn. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Every second counts, and the safehouse feels a million miles away.

"I swear, if we make it out of this alive, you're going to owe me one pristine car cleaning," you assert firmly, your voice tinged with worry.

"Deal," Tangerine replies, his eyes closing. Lemon looks at you through the rearview mirror "Just get us there in one piece."

You weave through the final stretch of city streets, your knuckles white on the steering wheel. The safehouse looms ahead, a nondescript building that has become your haven in times of crisis. You screech to a halt after driving into the garage, the car barely stopping before you pull the handbrake.

"Help me get him inside," Lemon says, rushing out and opening the back door. Together, you and Lemon half-carry, half-drag Tangerine towards the entrance, his blood leaving a grim trail behind you.

"Hang on, Tan," you whisper, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "We're almost there."

Inside the safehouse, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. You clear the kitchen table with a sweep of your arm, sending everything crashing to the floor.

"Lay him down here," you instruct. "I need to see how bad it is."

Tangerine's eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a weak smile. "You always did know how to make things dramatic, love" he jokes, his voice barely a whisper.

"Shut up," you say, your throat tight. "Just let me fix you up."

As you rip open his shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. Four bullet wounds, two in his left shoulder one in his right arm and the worst is stuck in the right side of his abdomen.

This isn't just another job gone wrong. This is a fight for survival. And in this moment, all you can think about is keeping Tangerine alive.

"You ruined my Burberry suit," Tangerine complains weakly, attempting a half-hearted smirk.

"I said, shut up," you snap, your voice tight with worry. Your hands move quickly, working to stop the bleeding. Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to focus, ignoring the emotional storm brewing inside you.

Lemon stands by, trying to keep pressure on the wounds. He looks at you, concern etched on his face. "You alright?" he asks, noticing your tears.

You nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders. Each bullet you extract from Tangerine's flesh elicits an excruciating scream from him that reverberates through the room and it slices through you like a knife. But you steel yourself against the anguish, focusing solely on the task at hand. With each bullet removed, Tangerine's body relaxes a fraction, but his agony remains palpable.

Exhaustion settles over him like a heavy shroud, and he slumps back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. You work quickly, stitching him up as best you can with trembling hands, the urgency of the situation lending you a sense of clarity.

Once Tangerine is bandaged and relatively stable, you turn your attention to the smaller cuts and abrasions littering his body. With gentle care, you clean away the blood, your movements deliberate and precise as you tend to his wounds.

When you finally finish, you look to Lemon, concern etched into your features. "You got any injuries?" you ask, your voice laced with worry.

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he grabs a blanket and pillow, arranging them to make Tangerine's makeshift bed on the kitchen table a little more comfortable.

You look at your blood covered hands and your mind starts to race,

The reality of the situation sinking in. Despite your years of experience you can't shake the feeling of helplessness that washes over you. You've faced danger countless times before, but this time feels different.

As you turn to wash the blood away in the sink, Lemon appears at your side. His eyes hold a depth of understanding that cuts through the turmoil in your soul.

"Not exactly the night we planned, huh?" Lemon tries to joke, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah…" you reply, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" Lemon's voice breaks the silence, gentle but insistent.

You pause, the question hanging in the air. Tears spill over, and you nod, holding in a sob. "Yes," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I do."

Wordlessly, he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is grounding.

With a steadying breath, you push aside the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You look back at your shaking hands seeing the sink run red as you rinse the rest of Tans blood away, the water swirling slowly like the tension in your chest. The room feels both too small and too vast, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Lemon's eyes soften with understanding. "Does he know?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, tears now flowing freely. "No," you manage to choke out.

Lemon gives you a sad smile and pats your back. "It's gonna be okay. He's tough. He'll pull through. He's Tangerine, after all."

You look over at Tangerine, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You sink to your knees beside the table, clutching his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his bloodstained shirt.

"I should have told him, “ You whisper, your voice breaking. "I should have told him every day."

Lemon kneels beside you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows," he says softly. "Somehow, he knows. And he’s fighting.”

The room is silent except for the faint, labored breathing of Tangerine. You press your forehead to Tangerine's hand, your sobs shaking your entire body.

"Please, don't leave me," you whisper, your voice raw with pain. "I can't do this without you."

"He's going to make it," Lemon murmurs, more to himself than to you. "He has to."

You cling to those words, praying that they're true. Because the thought of a world without Tangerine is too much to bear.

When the morning sun shines through the kitchen window, you stir, the warm light nudging you awake. You jolt up, immediately checking on Tangerine and finding him still breathing, albeit slowly. His chest rises and falls steadily, and a wave of relief washes over you.

Your body aches from the uncomfortable sleeping position, but you ignore it, stretching briefly before moving around the kitchen to make some coffee, the familiar routine grounding you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound. Turning around, you see Tangerine, though barely conscious, calling out for you, reaching out weakly.

"Hey, " he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed but a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You rush to his side, your heart heavy yet light with relief. “don't go too far" he whispers, his hand finding yours.

"Lemon!" you call out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Lemon, get in here!"

Lemon appears in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "What's going on? Is he—?"

"He's awake," you say, unable to contain the sob that escapes your lips. "He's going to be okay."

Lemon's face softens with a mixture of relief and joy. He steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I told you he's tough," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Tan doesn't go down that easily."

You nod, unable to speak, the relief washing over you in waves. You stay by Tangerines side, his hand still clasped in yours, feeling the weight of the nights fear and uncertainty lift just a little.

Lemon places a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft but firm. "You need to rest. Take a shower, change into some fresh clothes. I'll keep an eye on him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Tangerine "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice wavering with concern.

"I'm sure," Lemon reassures you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Lem." you shake your head at his compliment and make your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading over you feels like a much-needed cleanse, washing away the grime and the fear of the night. You change into fresh clothes, feeling a bit more human, and take a moment to steady yourself before heading back to the kitchen.

When you return, you see Lemon leaning close to Tangerine, their voices low as Tangerine attempts to sit up, wincing with every movement. Lemon supports him, and you quickly move to their side, slipping an arm around Tangerine to help. Together, you guide him into one of the bedrooms, easing him onto the bed so he can rest more comfortably.

"Thanks," Tangerine murmurs, his face still pale but his eyes more focused.

"You need to rest," you say, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll be right outside." As you and Lemon turn to leave, Tangerine's voice stops you.

"Wait." His hand reaches out, grabbing yours weakly. You look at Lemon, who gives you a knowing nod.

"I'll give you two some privacy," he says softly. "Call if you need anything." You nod at Lemon before turning back to Tangerine.

"You scared the living daylight out of me last night," you admit, your voice trembling slightly as you sit on the edge of the bed, Tangerine's hand still clasped in yours.

"I didn't mean to," he replies, a weak smile playing on his lips. "But I guess I did give that Burberry suit a run for its money."

You manage a small laugh, tears of relief filling your eyes. "I guess I owe you a new shirt," you say, your voice breaking with emotion as you remember ripping it off him to stop the bleeding.

"And i owe you a pristine car cleaning," he replies, squeezing your hand tightly, his smile widening.

Your laughter fades and you sit in silence for a moment, gathering your courage. You know that now is the time to speak your heart. “Tan I—” you begin, but Tangerine interrupts, his expression soft.

"Thank you." He looks down for a second, watching his hand play with yours. “Sorry, you were saying,” he looks back up into your eyes.

You blink in confusion, feeling your cheeks flush. "Oh, erm… you don’t have to thank me. It’s... it’s part of the job." you mumble.

Tangerine’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s more than just a job to you, isn’t it?"

You swallow hard, the truth pressing against your lips. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to hold back the tears. "It’s more. So much more."

He nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Lemon might have hinted at it before, but I’ve suspected for a while."

A mixture of relief and embaressement washes over you. "Lemon and his big mouth," you mutter, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

Tangerine chuckles, but winces in pain. You scold him lightly. "Don’t laugh, you idiot. You need to rest."

He grins despite the pain, bringing his hand to your cheek. "Will you stay?"

You lean into his hand, feeling his touch. "I'll stay." you whisper, tears falling freely now.

Tangerine’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. "I’ve been feeling the same way you know. For a while actually."

Your heart races, and you struggle to find your voice. "What?" Tangerine’s eyes flick between your eyes and your lips before he closes the gap, kissing you softly. The kiss is tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions you’ve both been holding back.

Its a clusterfuck, but someone might like it...

[reikorun]

KlubOutside Q&A 101-200 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q101.

2021.05.10

Renji is my favorite character, but my surprise exceeded my delight at seeing him as Ichigo's counterpart on the cover of the JET illustration collection. I would like to know if there is a reason why you chose Renji as the paired character?

A101.

On the contrary, I've never once thought of Ichigo's counterpart as anyone other than Renji.

Q102.

2021.05.10

Are there any recent Jump manga that you find interesting?

A102.

Jump manga have been interesting lately huh? My absolute favorites are Undead Unluck and SAKAMOTO DAYS. And recently, High School Family: Kokosei Kazoku too.

Q103.

2021.05.17

Are Harribel-sama's Fracción (Apacci, Sung-Sun and Mila Rose) modeled after Nocchi, KASHIYUKA and a-chan from the music group "Perfume"?

A103.

A long time ago, I was asked the same question by the individuals in question themselves. It's an incorrect assumption, however I like Perfume so I don't mind.

Q104.

2021.05.17

I have a question about the illustrations published in the Gallery's Guidelines on KlubOutside. Are the numbers noted on the side the Copic color number?

A104.

This is the screentone number (a polka dot pattern film that is cut and pasted onto an analog manuscript.)

Q105.

2021.05.17

Have you ever watched professional wrestling?

A105.

I used to watch WWE (known as WWF back then) quite often around the time The Rock was at his peak.

Q106.

2021.05.17

Did someone give Rōjūrō the nickname "Rose" because it was difficult to call him "Rōjūrō"?

A106.

Rose gave himself that nickname because he thinks it's cool.

Q107.

2021.05.17

Why does Ninny wear suspenders in the BTW anime?

A107.

When they saw her wearing it in the color spread for the one-shot, the anime team said "it's cute so is it okay if she wears it the whole time in the anime?"

Q108.

2021.05.24

I think the illustrations from Brave Souls at this opportune time captures the essence of the original work and is incredibly cool, as the original author, what sort of impressions do you have of the Brave Souls illustrations?

A108.

I think it's getting better with each passing year. The design roughs that are submitted for supervision are also excellent.

Q109.

2021.05.24

Where do you start from when making a drawing?

A109.

When I'm not doing a rough underdrawing, I start from the bone around the eyebrows.

Q110.

2021.05.24

I'd like to know about what you've purchased and found useful recently, or something that you're enjoying.

A110.

A Yogibo Pod, Tom Ford sneakers, JINS PC glasses.

Q111.

2021.05.24

Is the playlist on KlubOutside the list that Kubo-sensei is listening to?

A111.

I'm uploading the songs I often listen to in real time.

Q112.

2021.05.24

Did Kubo-sensei decide the OP and ED songs for the anime?

A112.

Basically that doesn't involve me. Occasionally, I'd receive a demo version, and there were also times when I gave a little input when it didn't feel like much of an opening theme.

Q113.

2021.05.31

Will you ever publish a continuation of your one-shot stories like Rune Master Urara.

A113.

Urara had a story prepared for the purpose of serialization but it didn't get past the serialization meeting because it had a female protagonist in a battle setting and the story was hellishly dark. I'm not interested in drawing dark stories right now, but I might do it if I get a lot of free time.

Q114.

2021.05.31

Kubo-sensei, please tell us your favorite font (like Ming typeface or Gothic typeface etc.)

A114.

During BLEACH's serialization, I liked Impact.

Q115.

2021.05.31

Byakuya-san said that Ichigo was only the second person to ever bear witness to his Senkei, but who was the first person to have seen it?

A115.

I can't answer this here.

Q116.

2021.05.31

Regarding the animation production, you mentioned that it would make your stomach hurt while watching it at home due to discrepancies that arose from your lack of involvement in its early days. But, from approximately what episode did Tite-sensei get his hands involved in the production?

A116.

Starting from the Bount arc, I began to do only dialogue checks in the script for the characters belonging to the original work, just before recording.

Q117.

2021.05.31

Old-man Zangetsu tried to reveal his name while in Kurosaki Ichigo-kun's inner world, but it was blocked out with black ink and he was unable to convey his message. Was this the work of Hyōsube Ichibē.

A117.

That's correct.

Q118.

2021.06.07

Is "Rondanini's black dog" Kotodama originating from the West Branch of Soul Society? ×[1]

A118.

That's right.

Q119.

2021.06.07

Your photos of Uni-chan are very beautiful, did you take them with a digital camera? Or was it a smartphone?

A119.

A smartphone.

Q120.

2021.06.07

Did Captain Hitsugaya and Rangiku-san realize that Ichigo is Shiba Isshin's son when they came to the Human World as part of the Hitsugaya advance team?

A120.

Both of them realized.

Q121.

2021.06.07

It's come to be that Gin's Special Move in Brave Souls is "Shukyoku - Kamishini no Yari, Butō: Renjin." Is this "Shukyoku" an established concept in the original work?

A121.

That's heart Gin isn't it? It's a game original expression.

Q122.

2021.06.07

When you listen to a character's theme song, it can heighten the depth of each individual considerably, so I enjoy having the opportunity to listen to them. At what stage in the development of a character are these theme songs decided?

A122.

It depends on the character. Some characters change midway through the drawing process.

Q123.

2021.06.14

What kind of thoughts went into the name "Tite", Kubo-sensei's pen-name? The alphabetical notation has always been "Tite" rather than "Taito", but is there some reason for that? Furthermore, I'm also curious as to why the unusual character "帯" is used in your name.

A123.

It means something like "one's head is always filled with many people." ×[2]

Q124.

2021.06.14

When Kurotsuchi Mayuri's bare face was revealed for the first time, his skin color was dark, but was that the case from the beginning? Also, will Kurotsuchi Mayuri's bare face never be seen again? He was more handsome than I expected.

A124.

This is about the anime? I recall watching the broadcast at the time and saying to my editor "his skin color is different!" The request for editorial supervision didn't come to me.

Q125.

2021.06.14

Which organization assigns names to Hollows?

A125.

There's a guy in charge of naming in the Shinigami Research and Development Institute.

Q126.

2021.06.14

In the final chapter, Orihime appeared as Ichigo's wife, but there was no ring on her left ring finger. Did Kubo-sensei forget to draw it? Or is it establishing that she's pregnant with her second child and her body is swollen, therefore she intentionally took off her ring?

A126.

Huh? You're right! I forgot to draw it.

Q127.

2021.06.14

Why were two Hyōrinmaru born?

A127.

I'd be happy if you could watch the movies as a parallel story rather than considering it part of the official canon.

Q128.

2021.06.21

How do you come up with the subtitle for each chapter? In BLEACH especially, most of the subtitles are in English and occasionally there is Japanese, but is there a particular emphasis placed on that? Additionally, I would be so glad if you could also tell us about any subtitles throughout your entire body of work that you are particularly fond of or any that evoke some special memory. 

A128.

At the time, there was no other work yet which combined Japanese style clothing with the English alphabet, so I deliberately added English subtitles, and in special chapters I made a point of adding Japanese subtitles in order to leave an impression. In that sort of sense, many people may prefer the Japanese subtitles.

Q129.

2021.06.21

I was interested in manga artists' fan clubs and joined one! I started reading BLEACH for the first time last week and am currently on volume 22. I'm looking forward to getting to the final volume! I would really like to know who exactly is sensei's favorite character!?

A129.

Eh? You joined without reading BLEACH!? Is this person real…. I don't have a favorite character. On the whole, I like them all about the same and am equally uninterested in them about the same.

Q130.

2021.06.21

To what extent is Kubo-sensei involved with Brave Souls? Did you ever get to play it again?

A130.

The gameplay mechanics don't concern me, but I oversee the design for the anniversary characters and characters who appear to affect the main story similar to the novel variants. I returned to the game after a long hiatus during BTW, but I was surprised at just how much easier it has become to play.

Q131.

2021.06.21

How did you decide the names of your characters? Do you have some kind of image in mind when you come up with names like "Bambietta Basterbine" and "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez" etc.?

A131.

Everything is named based on how it sounds and my own intuition. I genuinely love naming things, so I always have a list of names belonging to (or sound like they belong to) various nationalities, enough to accommodate several hundred characters. I often draw out names from there.

Q132.

2021.06.21

A fair amount of difference can be observed in Kubo-sensei's art style when comparing the first volume with the last volume, but did you intend for this change at the time the manga was being serialized? Or did it change over the course of drawing a large number of illustrations?

A132.

It's not so much a conscious effort, but more like a perpetual feeling that this isn't the best style for portraying my characters, and I'm trying to explore that while drawing. In the case of BLEACH, of course the final stages are closer to the ideal, and at present I'm even closer to that ideal compared to back then.

Q133.

2021.06.28

I believe Tōsen can Hollowfy → activate Resurrección, but can Ichigo and members of the Visored do this too? Does this mean that both Bankai and Resurrección are possible if they are in a Hollowfied state?

A133.

It's possible.

Q134.

2021.06.28

Is "Top of Horns" a metaphor for various genres of music? For example, I think Bruno represents rock and roll and Roy represents R&B.

A134.

It's different for Top of Horns, but it was actually like that for the Visored.

Q135.

2021.06.28

Please unveil the mystery behind "Ururu" and "Jinta". Who are they?

A135.

They are both Artificial Souls created by Kisuke.

Q136.

2021.06.28

In the illustrations for BLEACH, the characters are seen wearing western style clothes with various designs, but were these designs drawn independently by Kubo-sensei himself.

A136.

All illustrations in the original work are my own designs, all illustrations from the anime do not concern me.

Q137.

2021.06.28

Sensei, when you draw an illustration, do you draw the figure and such without using any references, like an artist's mannequin?

A137.

I once went to check out an art supply store because I thought it would be cool to have a drawing mannequin in my workplace, like one of those skilled painters, but in the end I didn't buy it since I couldn't figure out how to correctly use it as a reference.

Q138.

2021.07.05

I like Senju Kōten Taihō and often chant it, does sensei have a favorite incantation to chant too?

A138.

I generally always like the newest ones the best, so right now it's probably Blue Spark or Supernal Jail.

Q139.

2021.07.05

Was the BLEACH logo sensei's idea?

A139.

That's correct. I had a logo which I drew myself brought to life by an acquaintance, Shueisha bought it and are using it. By the way, the logo on the first chapter spread of Zombiepowder is hand-drawn, and I had BTW use my hand-drawn logo as is.

Q140.

2021.07.05

When you were contemplating the map of Karakura Town, were there any places that you used as reference?

A140.

I sort of used my local town as reference but it turned out completely different.

Q141.

2021.07.05

If it's okay, I would like to know Hinamori Momo-san's name before the change. Also, besides Hinamori-san, are there any other characters whose names have been changed since the initial stages?

A141.

I changed it because it wasn't very good, so the original is a secret. Additionally, Hitsugaya had a completely different first name too until the very last moment of the manuscript. This is also a secret.

Q142.

2021.07.12

I have a question regarding Kira Izuru-kun's healing abilities and the history of his affiliations. He was first assigned to Captain Aizen's 5th Division, while there he was found to have an aptitude for Kaidō and was recruited to the 4th division, but does that mean that he was later poached by Ichimaru Gin of Squad 3? 

A142.

When he was a member of Squad 4, it was Aizen who recommended the transfer to Unohana.

Q143.

2021.07.12

How was it that Kuna Mashiro came to be appointed as "Super Vice-Captain"? Is her armband official? (Personally, I think it's something she wilfully made on her own, or perhaps someone in her Squad prepared it just to placate her.)

A143.

When Kensei returned to the position of Captain, Mashiro pestered Kensei alone saying it's "unfair", so it's a post that Kensei made up himself without consulting anyone. The armband is also a complete fake made with shiny material in the hope that it would please Mashiro. Though, with a single glance Mashiro was satisfied.

Q144.

2021.07.12

In volume 31, when Grimmjow tried to break Loly's leg clean off, she says "if you stop, wait! We can make this our secret!" What was she trying to say next? I haven't spoken openly about it much since being told that I have a bad personality, but the scenario before and after that scene is one of my favorites!!

A144.

It was "I'll let you have your way with me." Loly's the kind of character who would deliver a line like that when she's in a desperate situation. A famous manga artist friend of mine once told me that he loved that scene too, so I think it's fine to openly discuss it.

Q145.

2021.07.12

I thought that the 5 members of the Bambies from the Wandenreich looked similar to Momoiro Clover Z, but what are the facts actually like? 

A145.

The very first design motif I used for them was indeed Momoclo, but after I had finalized the characters I thought "well then, who is Gigi?" So I decided not to say anything. (I just said it.)

Q146.

2021.07.12

I'm really looking forward to the Ninny-chan and Noel-chan figurines, when will the news be updated?!

A146.

I'm looking forward to it too. I wonder when!?

Q147.

2021.07.12

Kubo-sensei, do you drink alcohol? If so, what kind of alcohol do you like?

A147.

I recently discovered that I'm able to drink if it's "Horoyoi*." I like the white one. (*Horoyoi is a brand of canned, alcoholic beverage in Japan.)

Q148.

2021.07.12

Do you have a favorite YouTuber?

A148.

I don't know if I can classify them as YouTubers, but I sometimes watch YouTube videos of people free diving then catching and eating strange fish.

Q149.

2021.07.19

Why is the Shihakushō, which can also be called the Shinigami uniform, black? Is it so that the Monk can enlist their help in case of an emergency?

A149.

The color was decided upon in the days of first Gotei generation, the reason was "so you wouldn't have to throw it away every time it gets stained with blood." However, your idea about the Monk would also make a good backstory.

Q150.

2021.07.19

How do members of the Sternritter perceive Giselle Gewelle's gender? Are they not aware of it, are they aware but pretending not to notice it, or are they just not interested in it? I would be glad if you could tell us.

A150.

It depends on the person.

Q151.

2021.07.19

I have a question concerning Kusajishi Yachiru. Is it a result of the fact that she was called by the name "Yachiru" that she herself possessed a Zanpakutō called "Sanpo Kenjū", while also being "Nozarashi" - the Zanpakutō of Zaraki Kenpachi? 

Like Hihiō Zabimaru or Fuji Kujaku, there are many scenes where a Zanpakutō not called by its true name was unable to demonstrate its true power. I reckon "Nozarashi" bore the essence of a Shinigami and materialized as a consequence of being called by the name "Yachiru" - a Shinigami who actually exists, and perhaps because it was the name "Yachiru" (*Yachi = eight thousand, Ru = flows/styles), she acquired Sanpo Kenjū which was specialized for the act of cutting. 

I'm quite curious about the true identity of Kusajishi Yachiru, so I'd be overjoyed if you could give us an answer.

A151.

Wow, amazing! It's not even written that Yachiru is Nozarashi, yet you managed to find your way here. You are mostly correct within the scope covered by your question. To go further, Yachiru is a form of Nozarashi's Bankai manifestation separated from its main body, and having received her name from Kenpachi, she harbored the power of a Shinigami. The embodiment of Nozarashi itself takes the form of a grown woman. I think it's easier to understand if I got you to imagine Zangetsu and Tensa Zangetsu.

Q152.

2021.07.19

Why are the names of Chad and Orihime's Fullbring not in English unlike the members of XCUTION? I was intrigued because sensei used different languages for naming depending on the faction. 

A152.

Since these two are in a special category, their abilities were given names in their respective native languages.

Q153.

2021.07.19

With Madarame Ikkaku's appearance in the Fullbring chapters, attached to his right shoulder we see some kind of gold plated equipment with the kanji for "dragon" printed on it, is that his own work? I'm curious because it's established in the lore that he's good with his hands.

A153.

It's Ikkaku's own work.

Q154.

2021.07.19

What kind of person is the manager of ABCookies where Orihime worked?

A154.

I have the concept art for him. I ended up having so much fun while drawing him that he became a creepy old man, but he's a good person.

Q155.

2021.07.26

Did Baraggan not reveal his own rank, nor refer to himself as "Espada" due to his rivalry with Aizen?

A155.

That's right.

Q156.

2021.07.26

Please tell us your favorite places in Hiroshima!

A156.

I don't get to go back that often, but I like Soleil (now Aeon Mall). It's huge and exciting.

Q157.

2021.07.26

Is it intentional that the number of English words used in the subtitle from BLEACH chapter 679 "THE END" up to 683 "THE DARK SIDE OF TWO WORLD ENDS" increases with each chapter? 

A157.

Yes.

Q158.

2021.07.26

Aizen said "From the very start, no one has stood upon the heavens," and while looking at Ukitake he said "not you, not I, nor even gods," but was this "you" here hinting at the connection between Ukitake and the Soul King? 

A158.

That is correct.

Q159.

2021.07.26

The haori, jinbei, and hat which Urahara Kisuke wears in the Human World can probably be described as his only good clothes, did Urahara Kisuke himself purchase them at a Human World draper or something?

A159.

Those are all items Kisuke made himself.

Q160

2021.07.26

To what extent does Kubo-sensei supervise the color scheme of the digital color tankōbon? 

A160.

I'm supposed to give them all a look over around the time of their debut, but since I'm making my checks while busy with other things during serialization, I sometimes find myself wondering "did I really choose this kind of color!?" In Brave Souls, occasionally the color of the skills just happen to change, well that is the reason why. I'm sorry!

Q161.

2021.08.02

Spanish is used for words related to the Arrancar and Hueco Mundo, German is used for words related to the Wandenreich and Quincy, but I would like to know why you chose these two languages? Does Kubo-sensei have a special attachment to both languages? 

A161.

I think Spanish has a devilish charm, German has a hard-headed sound to it. By the way, when I told this story at an event in Germany, it was amusing to the Germans. It seems that the German people themselves consider the German national traits to be "idyllic and easygoing", apparently they found it amusing because of the disparity between this and my "hard-headed sound" assessment.

Q162.

In the 13BLADEs. "Frank Questions!" segment, you said that you haven't actually drawn a certain character's Bankai up to its final form yet, was that referring to adult Hitsugaya? If so, from what point in time did you decide you were going to draw the concept of a "slightly aged up" Hitsugaya?

A162.

I was talking about Hitsugaya. It was decided when Hitsugaya was designed therefore it was already decided by the time he debuted.

Q163.

2021.08.02

Kubo-sensei, please tell us the reason why you named your dog "Uni".

A163.

It's an anagram of 'inu'. Just kidding. I named my dog "Uni" because it was expected that her fur would become orange as she grew. It turned out to be a burnt mochi-like color though. ×[3]

Q164.

2021.08.02

Taking into account Isshin and Masaki's origins, it seems to me that Ichigo's grandparents do not exist in the Human World, but is "Grandpa Rin", whose name was mentioned in the Lost Agent arc, an individual who actually exists? Is he a relative of Tsukishima-san? 

A164.

Tsukishima Rinshirō. He's Tsukishima's grandfather.

Q165.

2021.08.02

In the past, there was a "Love Bleach" film featured at a BLEACH event, but would you consider launching the actual product for sale in the future?! 

A165.

"Love Bleach", wasn't that supposed to be some kind of dating simulation game? I guess, If a game company can make a profit, I don't see why not. ×[4] 

Q166.

2021.08.02

I went to the opening day stage greeting for BURN THE WITCH! I saw on social media that sensei also came to see it, but where did you watch it from?

A166.

The seats on the 2nd floor are like cozy sofas. It was awesome.

Q167. *Deleted entry from KlubOutside*

2021.08.09

This is a question regarding the origins of the name "Yhwach". In the original work, it was derived from being called "Yū", "ha", "vē", "ha", but does this have its roots in the monotheistic God of Judaism and Christianity, "YHVH" (Jehovah, Yahweh)? 

A167.

Originally the spelling of "Yhwach" itself was like that, but I was asked to change it because it would 100% cause controversy overseas so it's come to be this current spelling.

Q167.

2021.08.09

Has the status of the Shinigami Men's Association improved since Iba-san, its President, became Captain?

Q167.

Isane also became a Captain, so….

Q168.

2021.08.09

In the earliest iterations of BLEACH, the Shinigami wear Western-style outfits and are armed with guns. It seems that in this universe, Rukia was the only one among them to use a scythe, but what was the reason for making Rukia the only one to wield a different weapon?

A168.

The lore was that Rukia was the only one who continued to use an old-fashioned scythe due to a difference in ideology. Also, at the time, the Shinigami characters were all foreigners.

Q169.

2021.08.09

I would like to know the origin of the name "Macy Baljure" (it's my favorite). If possible, please by all means, let us know!

A169.

I don't know the origin, but Macy's name was the one I struggled with the most and I made alterations within the name alone like three times.

Q170.

2021.08.09

Is there any difference between a short release call for a Zanpakutō and a long one like in the case of Kyōraku or Ukitake?

A170.

Basically, the longer ones are often older Zanpakutō.

Q171.

2021.08.09

When drawing manga, do you tend to forget details in the costume blueprints for characters who, for instance, you haven't drawn in a long time?

A171. 

I forget things very easily. Even during the series, I forgot the location of Rangiku's mole.

Q172.

2021.08.16

Did you devise the opening and ending of the BLEACH anime together with the anime staff? I was wondering if sensei's ideas were incorporated as well.

A172.

I'm not involved with the OP & EDs. Each one is good in it's own way.

Q173.

2021.08.16

Why did Hisagi fail the entrance exam for the Academy twice? 

A173.

Because it's Shūhei.

Q174.

2021.08.16

Regardless of whether they were in a higher or lower position, members of the Visored have been quite casual since their days as Shinigami, using informal language and addressing each other without honorifics. Just because they're all together, I don't think that necessarily means that they were at the Academy at the same time, so what could be the driving force for them to have become this close? 

A174.

All of them are diehard individualists, or rather, the type to follow their own rules, so people of that type get along well with each other, and I get the impression that because they're the same type, many people don't care how informal they are with one another. Rather than a 'driving force', it's more like "for some reason, I feel like I talk to this guy a lot."

Q175.

2021.08.16

I love Sado-kun. I would like to know if there is a backstory regarding Sado-kun's tattoo such as when and how he got it inked.

A175.

When his Abuelo died, Sado got it inked in order to keep his spirit strong.

Q176.

2021.08.16

What is sensei's shoe size in cm? Also, if you have any favorite shoes, please let us know!

A176.

My ankles are big, so it's 27 or 27.5. I like shoes but I don't particularly have a favorite brand.

Q177.

2021.08.16

Are you reading what your fans are writing in the comments in the [DESKSIDE] section of your website?

A177.

I'm reading them all.

Q178.

2021.08.23

This isn't really a question, but I hope that the Radio Kon letters segment, which appeared in the early Tankōbon, makes a comeback.

A178.

I didn't want to do that anymore because I had to draw the cutout faces of characters, every volume, just for that segment which was quite exhausting. I planned to do this myself though.

Q179.

2021.08.23

Will sensei's illustrations mainly be done digitally from now on? I'm curious because I love the illustrations that were colored with sensei's Copic markers. Also, which one do you prefer, sensei?

A179. 

Right now, I'm having fun with digital. I'm still not very good at using digital, but going forward, I'd like to be able to switch back and forth between both depending on my mood.

Q180.

2021.08.23

I would like to know what your favorite buildings are?

A180.

"The National Congress Palace, Brasília" by Oscar Niemeyer and Louis Kahn's "Salk Institute for Biological Studies". Oscar Niemeyer is the origin of Nimaiya Ōetsu's name.

Q181.

2021.08.23

Why does Tatsuki want to become stronger? Her name seems strong, though there is some backstory which revealed that Tatsuki herself doesn't like it, so I'm just allowing myself to imagine that perhaps her parents work at a dojo or do something related to martial arts. I'm also very interested about Orihime in her middle school days, viewed from Tatsuki's perspective. Ichigo and Orihime's pasts have points of similarity, being bullied because of their hair color and experiencing the death of a family member, so I wonder if Tatsuki noticed that they have these things in common?

A181.

The karate dojo that Ichigo used to attend is attached to Tatsuki's home. Additionally, in a flashback which I had to cut due to page limitations, there was a scene where Tatsuki draws a parallel between Ichigo and Orihime. You're quite the reader, huh?

Q182.

2021.08.23

I want to be able to draw illustrations like Kubo-sensei so I'm practicing, but whether it be male or female characters, please let me know if there are any points you pay particular attention to when drawing people.

A182.

There isn't much difference in how I depict men and women. I get the sense that I draw each character with a feeling that's like "this aspect of this character is good."

Q183.

2021.08.23

I have a question about the feathers around Yumichika's eyes. When he appeared in the story about Ikkaku's past, and also 10 years later, it doesn't appear that he's wearing any accessories, but is that sort of like ‘his thing’ these days?

A183.

All the things Yumichika wears are fashionable items, so it varies depending on the season.

Q184.

2021.08.30

What is your favorite Doraemon movie?

A184.

It's "Little Star Wars." It's because I like the theme song.

Q185.

2021.08.30

I would like to know the details about the relationship between Mask De Masculine and James. Is it correct to infer from Yhwach's line "James, so you have died?" that Masculine is like a false manifestation and James is his true form.

A185.

James is the true form, and Masculine is James's ideal hero.

Q186.

2021.08.30

Regarding the subtitle of BLEACH volume 6 "THE DEATH TRILOGY OVERTURE", if literally translated, it becomes "prologue to the Shinigami trilogy", I think perhaps this means the prologue of the series is about facing the Shinigami, the second chapter is about facing the Arrancar and the final chapter is about facing the Quincy. Is it that you decided on the overall structure of the story from the early stages, resulting in a title like this?

A186. 

That is so. Since the Lost Agent arc initially wasn't about Shinigami, it was my plan to mix elements of both preceding and upcoming chapters for a smoother transition.

Q187.

2021.08.30

I know this is a terrible question, but I would like to know Kuchiki Rukia's bust, waist and hip measurements….

A187.

It's a secret. All the people asking about BWH measurements and other boob related questions are women…. Well, it's fine then I guess.

Q188.

2021.08.30

Some time ago, I watched you begin to draw an illustration on a Shikishi board by hand and without a rough sketch too for Jigoku no Misawa-sensei, I was in shock thinking "you must be kidding…." When you draw a picture, are you drawing with a clear image of the whole composition already in a completed state in your head? Also, where do you usually start from when drawing a character? I was all the more astonished because I saw Kubo-sensei's craft in a character that was not sensei's own. ×[5]

A188.

From the time I was an elementary school student, I have been drawing Kitarō starting from his toes, so ever since then, the order in which I draw things has always been chaotic.

Q189.

2021.09.06

Ichigo's attendance score is 13 overall and 6 for male student attendance score, these are also the respective numbers of the squads to which Rukia and Renji belong, that is, two Shinigami with whom he shares a particularly close bond. Was this something you set up intentionally?

A189.

It's just a coincidence. 6 is my lucky number so it makes a frequent appearance within the story.

Q190.

2021.09.06

When I look at illustrations, I often look at the fashion designs of the characters, but I am always impressed by how meticulously Kubo-sensei's illustrations depict the structural lines and details of the clothing. I would like to know if there are any fashion brands and the like which you associate with a certain character's image?

A190.

I was about to say that for every character I've never thought "this character would probably wear this brand", but there was actually one individual alone. Äs Nödt would wear Rick Owens. 

Q191.

2021.09.06

Your pen-name in the past was Kubo Noriaki, but why was your name changed to Tite?

A191.

That's because that 'pen-name' is actually my real name and on top of that, it was a misprint.

Q192.

2021.09.06

How old is Ikumi-san from Unagiya Shop?

A193.

She's 33.

Q193.

2021.09.06

In the original story and the novels, it is mentioned that Soul Society has a one million year history, but of the Four Great Noble Houses, if Byakuya is the 28th generation and Yoruichi is 22nd generation, it seems this falls short of one million years, what do you think?

A193.

The history of the Nobles is the history of the Seireitei, not Soul Society.

Q194.

2021.09.06

I remember that Kubo-sensei frequently used an au talby A5508SA cell phone for many years. Is that the same cell phone model that is hanging from Ichigo's waist on the cover of WJ issue 23, 2005, and the same one that Rukia is clutching in her hand on the cover of chapter 298

A194.

That's right. I still have it at home. I love Marc Newson.

Q195.

2021.09.13

Kubo-sensei, do you prefer raw eggs, boiled eggs, or hot spring eggs?

A195.

I like raw eggs. Isn't this dependent on one's eating habits?

Q196.

2021.09.13

"PIPERS" WOVEN JACQUARD MUFFLER was sold on Whiskrs, but does sensei own serial number 1? (*These were sold in a limited number of 99)

A196.

I have it. Personally, I thought it would have been easier to use if it was a little longer.

Q197.

2021.09.13

Ganju who reappeared in the Thousand-Year Blood War arc has, from where I'm standing, gained a butt-chin, but did that just happen over the course of his growth? Or was it the discipline he received from Kūkaku, or perhaps he was influenced by Shiroganehiko who similarly has a butt-chin? I would be grateful if you could tell us.

A197.

Huh? Wait, Ganju wasn't supposed to have a butt-chin!? Well then, let's go with growth!

Q198.

2021.09.13

The name Nīhashi = 15 → 2+1+8+4.

The names Nīha and Ninny = 15 → Nīha: 2+1+8 and Ninny: 2+2.

Is this something you were setting up as a goal? ×[6]

A198.

I happened to see this on Twitter and surprised myself. The person who spotted this is amazing. However, it's just a coincidence.

Q199.

2021.09.13

Hitsugaya always wears something that looks like a brooch, it appears to be a marigold, is this correct? 

A199.

You mean the clip on his sash which held his sword in his earlier appearances? That's a sun motif. 

Q200.

2021.09.13

I would like to see that school parody with the BLEACH cast (the one that was in JET), will it be released somewhere?!

A200.

I want to see that too, but it would be hard to draw the manga myself, so I'm thinking of sharing character profiles and maybe someone will draw it for me.

Translation Footnotes:

×1. "Rondanini's black dog" is part of an incantation for a Kidō spell. See BLEACH chapter 21.

×2. 帯 = to wear/ to carry/ to bear | 人= people | 帯人 (Tite) = to bear people

×3. The joke is: Inu = dog in Japanese. Uni is sea urchin, in Japan we eat sea urchin as sashimi or sushi and it is orange in color.

×4. Back in 2005, a BLEACH dating simulation game parody video, known as "Love Bleach" was made by staff for a BLEACH event. The gag involved teasing a TBA dating simulator. The video is available on YouTube: https://youtu.be/0cA-jySdzYE?si=-5OX0MQX1bZKsqws

×5. Tite Kubo drawing for Jigoku No Misawa: https://youtu.be/xRAfswhrQC4?si=6rgKaPK94EbzcBY1

×6. Based on Japanese numerals, Ni = 2, i = 1, ha = 8 shi = 4. 

[muzansfangs]

My dear readers, welcome to the “𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬” event. Since on August 29th I’m turning twenty-four, I have decided to host this small event.

• How does it work? Being a busy person and having my requests closed, I have already set up everything. I therefore hope you will just enjoy the works that are going to be part of this collection and let me know if you are satisfied with them.

• What does the event consist in? This post will work as a real Masterlist for the twenty-four one-shots I’m going to post. I’ve chosen twenty-four male characters from Demon Slayer and Bleach, pairing each and every one of them with a line of a song I have chosen.

• Are there any other infos you should be aware of? The works will all be written in the perspective of a female reader. The contents of the works can be smut, fluff or angst and, sometimes, the various generes will be combined. I will make sure to add all the details concerning the warnings about the triggering themes in every single post.

• Anything else? This is the complete list of the works I will gradually update. There is not a specific order, but I will add the links of the one-shots whenever I get to post one of them! Thanks for the attention, your perfectionist admin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

• 505 — Gin Ichimaru x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“In my imagination you’re waiting laying on your side, with your hands between your thighs”, Arctic Monkeys.

• BABYDOLL — Douma x f!reader (NSFW)

“When I meet your eyes, the devil, he wins”, Ari Abdul.

• IF I KILLED SOMEONE FOR YOU — Aizen Sosuke x f!reader (NSFW + ANGST)

“Would you love me more, if I killed someone for you?”, Alec Benjamin

• HEART LIKE YOURS — Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader (FLUFF)

“How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?”, Willamette Stone

• ATLANTIS — Urahara Kisuke x f!reader (ANGST)

“ ‘Cause in my heart and in my head, I'll never take back the things I said”, Seafret

• UNTIL I FOUND YOU — Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader (FLUFF)

“I was lost within the darkness but then I found her, I found you”, Stephen Sanchez

• FRIENDS — Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader (NSFW)

“Tell me we’re not just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no”, Chase Atlantic

• SWEATER WEATHER — Renji Abarai x f!reader (FLUFF + ANGST)

“ ‘Cause it’s too cold for you here and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater”, The Neighbourhood

• BLUE JEANS — Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader (NSFW)

“You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop, but you fit me better than my favorite sweater”, Lana del Rey

• DAYLIGHT — Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time. You and I drink the poison from the same vine”, David Kushner

• CARDIGAN — Tomioka Giyuu x f!reader (FLUFF)

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite”, Taylor Swift

• FUCK YOU IN MY HEAD — Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader (NSFW)

“I got dirty wishes on my mind, but you will never ever know that I, I like to fuck you in my head”, Cloudy June

• BACK TO BLACK — Obanai x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“We only said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times. You go back to her and I go back to, I go back to us”, Amy Winehouse

• WHERE’S MY LOVE — Ulquiorra Cifer x f!reader (ANGST)

“Ooh, does she know that we bleed the same? Ooh, don’t wanna cry but I break that way”, SYML

• ALL OF ME — Kokushibo x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts, risking it all, though it's hard”, John Legend

• KISS ME — Haschwalth Jugram x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“And your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck, I’m falling for your eyes but they don’t know me yet”, Ed Sheeran

• WHEN THE DARKNESS COMES — Shinjuro Rengoku x f!reader (FLUFF)

“When you're feeling lost I'll leave my love hidden in the sun, for when the darkness comes”, Colbie Caillat

• SAY SOMETHING — Ukitake Jushiro x f!reader (ANGST)

“And I will swallow my pride, you're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye”, A Great Big World

• CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE — Akaza x f!reader (FLUFF)

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?”, Elvis Presley

• SHADOW PREACHERS — Zaraki Kenpachi x f!reader (NSFW)

“You make me wanna love, hate, cry, take, every part of you. You make me wanna scream, burn, touch, learn, every part of you”, Zella Day

• HUNGER — Yoriichi Tsugikuni x f!reader (FLUFF)

“Oh, love, let me see inside your heart, all the cracks and broken parts, the shadows in the light. There's no need to hide”, Ross Copperman

• ENJOY THE SILENCE — Shinji Hirako x f!reader (NSFW)

“All I ever wanted, all I ever needed is here in my arms. Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm”, Depeche Mode

• BREAK MY HEART MYSELF — Uzui Tengen x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“I don't need your help getting off of this carousel. I don't need anybody else, 'cause I can break my heart myself”, Bebe Rexha

• VILLAIN — Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader (NSFW)

“I'll be the villain tonight. I kinda like when you despise me after we fight”, Bella Poarch

[nemesii]

ANGEL EYES — TREECH!

You were a creator, some would say. During those nights when sleep often managed to evade your grasp, you would sit at your old table in your room, wielding a pencil. The gunmetal grey of it would contrast the blank horizon of the amber-toned sheet. Staining the paper in such an authoritative way, you would mar it with various lines that formed a design of some sort. You wanted to tire yourself out, drain your mind of your ideas and impart them onto paper, in hopes of lulling yourself to sleep.

“Oh, these designs are absolutely gorgeous dear!!” You recalled your mother encouraging you when you had sheepishly showed her the product of your nightly endeavours, “Why don’t you help your father in the workshop and make these beautiful designs of yours a reality, hm?”

The distant echo of your father saying your name slowly drew you back into the busy atmosphere of the workshop.

“Hm?” You replied quickly, acknowledging his attempts to get you to focus.

“Look kiddo, I know it’s been tough since… the new laws, but let’s try get some work done today, okay? You just let me know if you ever need a break.” He looks at you sympathetically and pats your head gently. He’s always done this, no matter how old you were. You were forever guaranteed those comforting head pats from your father, which served as one of the few moments of solace in this harsh reality.

“I’m fine, Dad!! I was just zoning out, that’s all. I’m already used to the workload you know, it has been 4 years you know.”

You’re met with the sound of his hearty laughter and with that, you resume your work momentarily. Your hand effortlessly guides the sharpened instrument across the wood, shaving and smoothing out any imperfections. Raising it up and examining it, you internally approve of your fine handiwork.

“How does it look? Do you think those Capitol snobs would like it?” You direct the question to your father, holding up the wooden carving of a deer head in your hands.

He pauses for a moment and pretends to think carefully, before nodding. “Why, this would be a perfect accessory for our collection of other carved animal heads!” He laughs, and it’s clear he’s joking, imitating the materialistic character of the Capitol.

This impression causes you to laugh along with him. After all, if you had faced the oppression of the Capitol it would be hard to resist mocking them in the safety of your own home.

Suddenly, the door of the workshop creaks. A bell rings, and your father and you instantly put on poker faces. If it were the Peacekeepers, the worst punishment they could legally deal for mockery would be a beating. Perhaps maybe a shot to the head if they were feeling it, because it was common knowledge the Capitol never played fairly.

To your relief, it was just one of your father’s friends and his son. Your father instantly brightened up and greeted the two.

“Hey, you two got some wood for us?” Your father smiles.

“Yeah, and a whole lot of it too. It’s been much easier harvesting all this wood with my son to do most of the work for me!” The other older man jokes, slapping his son on the back. Your father responds with a chortle of laughter and nods approvingly at Treech.

“Same goes for me too. With my kiddo here she’s taken half the workload off my back.”

Three pairs of eyes direct their focus towards you, and you stray your attention away from your wooden deer to meet a set of hazel ones. As the fathers continue their conversation, the boy about your age approaches you. The sun pours into the workshop and illuminates his brown curls, bleaching them a shade of caramel.

“You made this?” He asks in a rather abruptly, but he makes up for his tone with the way he sends you a boyish smile.

You laugh softly and nod, “Yeah, I did.”

“It’s beautiful. I don’t know how you turn a log into a masterpiece like this.”

“Thank you, I try! Just a bit of carving and hard work, that’s all.”

He continues to admire the fine handiwork you’ve done, gingerly running the tips of his fingers across the grooves of your piece. It was almost as if he was scared to break it, but wanted to dare to feel it for himself nonetheless.

“What’s your name?” He asks, his brown locks spilling out from under his hat. Upon asking this question he quickly diverts his gaze back to the deer ornament, but after a few seconds he dares to meet your eyes again with an unfaltering look. As you utter your name, his mouth widens and it’s almost as if he had been entranced the moment you said your name.

“The name’s Treech. Hopefully we’ll see each other more often?” Treech asks and it’s during this that you take the chance to notice his angel eyes. The mixture of hazel and chestnut, sprinkled with hints of sage and the colour of the sky.

You watch him slowly retreat back to his father who is about to exit the workshop and you quickly take in the situation, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around?”

Treech looks back, sporting a sweet smile to you before leaving. It seemed he had left as quickly as he had entered, and a small part of you had hoped he would wander in again soon.

just wanted to post the first chapter of my treech fic from wattpad onto here!

here's the link if you want to continue reading it, the 2nd and 3rd chapters feature more interactions between treech and u !

https://www.wattpad.com/story/359118000-district-7-sweethearts-treech

[pixiatn]

Au idea for those 'Jason attacks Tim at Titans Tower' fics, here me out Jason attempting to attack post Joker Junior!Tim, and by post I mean like this would take place AWHILE after that situation but ofc it's still apart of Tim (physically and mentally)

Ok so with the Red Hood making threats on Robin's life Bats sends him to Titans Tower while he attempts to capture Red Hood, wanting to resist Tim reluctantly agrees bc he acknowledges the mental strain it's putting on him and thinks being at TT will help him. During this whole Red Hood situations, he's trying his best to stay calm, cool, and collected but he's absolutely terrified about what Red Hood might do him but he doesn't want to worry bats with his trauma.

When he's finally at TT he full on breaks down, due to the amount of distress and intense emotion he's feeling, it triggers the chemicals Joker injected him with (bc 💫 science) his skin becomes a bleached white while his hair turns green and causes him to go into a laughy cry fit (like the one in the batman beyond movie where he shot joker)

BOOM Jason's big ass pulls up to Titans Tower to jump Tim but instead finds a mini joker that triggers unpleasant memories for him and almost causes him to lash out. When he realizes that this mini mista J is infact Tim, he is completely and utterly distraught and just doesn't know what the fuck to do

[potato-salad-uk]

I've been meaning to make this post for a while telling my experience with the new Splatoon 3 DLC Side Order. I've been having a lot of fun playing it and I just wanted to tell people my thoughts and experience.

Warning This will have some spoilers for Side Order

Color Chips

The color chip system is very fun and interesting and I like all the funny builds one can make with them with my favorite being the all drone chips. I do have one small complaint about them tho which is that some chips were for some weapons weren't in the primary or secondary color so that is making them a bit harder to collect all data from them.

Weapons

I love all the weapon chooses and that are given to us and even if I'm not good with a certain weapon I can always choose color chips that can make it easier for me to use an example of this is how I struggle with using the roller but with faster firing and faster rolling speed I can use it with ease. I have beat the game with all the weapons and I had a lot of fun doing it, non of them felt like it was too hard but also not too easy.

Story

The story for Sure Order was a bit underwhelming to say the least, it wasn't too hard to understand and the way that you unlocked the bits through Instagram like stories by Marina locked in the lockers was fun and gave me another reason to want to beat the game with every weapon just to see what was the cause for Side Order.

The World

The World of Side order was so beautiful even if there was barely any color in it it didn't feel lifeless even though all the white coral was supposed to represent coral bleaching which is a very dangerous thing that is happening. I love th music of the Order sector and the foyer with the sounds being represented by in game effect of shapes going in and out of existence which is something I can't say I've seen in games before.

Music

I was only a little disappointed that Acht aka Dedf1sh wasn't making the music for Side Order because I really enjoyed their music, but Free Association wasn't bad at all my favorite songs are Cold Storage and Je2ting. I have been a fan of electronic music for a while now and having a "game" that 90% if the songs are electronic was so cool, I even listen to the songs when I'm not playing which just makes me want to play Side Order

Characters

Pearl and Marina are so gay and it's fun to see Acht have to deal with it. Im glad that Acht didn't turn out to be a bad guy because I just love them too much, they are just such a silly goose and I want to give them head pats. Eight is there I guess having to deal with another horrible experience, seriously girl needs a break, but it was fun to know that she went on tour with Pearl and Marina that was just so cool. Smalusk is so cute especially because he wants to be so big and strong but he's just a little guy.

That's about it if you want to know anything else about my experience playing Side Order let me know I'll also up load some screen shots I took in the reblog <3

[tu-es-gegg]

Forever retreats to the old office, he leans over the desk, clean enough to see the pristine wood that used to lay unnoticed. His fingers trail the surface to the back and he was disturbed how barely any coffee stains lay permenant in the wood, it's as if all remnants of him had vanished without traces or whisper

Frustrated, he takes a hand through his bleached hair and ducks his head down; until his eyes trail to a drawer left ajar. He steadily pulls on the handle far enough until he sees a leather bag with familiar initials scratched on the flap. His throat tightens at that exact moment.

Hastily he opens the bag to find that old black camera again, scratches still on the edges yet still kept clean. One could mitake such an aged relic to be brand new, a reflection of how much care its owner gave to such equipment. Such a polarising, pristine-looking accessory that used to accompany his disarrayed and frazzled friend, now left incomplete without the other half. Like a light without a shadow. A moon that has no sun. Forever tries to fit the camera in his hands, but it doesn't quite feel right. They don't have the same callouses that moulded to the seams and curves, not the same flex to reach the smaller buttons across the top. It's not his camera to use; he almost forgets how Cellbit used to hold it.

Another look back in the bag he sees something under the spare lenses and microfibre cloth, some dots of colour that seem to permeate through the dim lamplight. Carefully, Forever plucks out those faded colours and cradles that polaroid gently; as if the stagnant printed memories in his hand could turn to ash any moment. The picture has all of them. Pac. Mike. Felps. Cellbit. And there he is in the middle holding up Richarlyson closer to the lens. Forever looks again in the bag, there's more photos of memories long past he had almost forgotten about

Forever slides out of the chair and onto the floor with back against the desk, he holds the collection close as he looks through all of them. He notices how glaring the sun was in every shot. How even in faded hues the colours shined most prominently. How wide those toothed grins used to be back then.

Forever smiles slightly with each passing photo, legs pressed to his chest like his heart would fall out of his ribs. He tries to touch the colours with his thumb, as if he could touch and feel the warm hands that radiate glowing euphoria again. But all he can touch is the plastic film.

[zoeyslament]

Ocean has a gay panic

PerfectDolls (Ocean x Penny) writing I did under the cut

“UNO!” Penny screeched, plopping the final card down on the deck. This started a chain of events that could only have happened in a group of six people with less mental stability than they had collective heads. 

First, Mischa threw his cards across the floor in anger because he was a sore loser, knocking over his glass of Pepsi and cursing loudly in Ukrainian, then in Dutch, then Russian, then— “FUCK!”

”Language!” Ocean had snapped. She tossed him a roll of paper towels, which proceeded to miss and hit Noel in the head. He clapped a hand over the spot and Mischa immediatly turned to make sure his boyfriend was okay. Constance picked up the paper towels and started to mop up the soda spill. 

Meanwhile, Penny was playing 52-pickup with Mischa’s spilled cards, huffing about having to clean up even though she’d won. 

Constance triumphantly held up the now soaking wet, caramel-hued paper towels, then ordered Penny to get some bleach for the carpet. Penny hissed a swear at her then retreated to the kitchen. 

Noel and Mischa were kissing again, hands roaming each others’ bodies. Ricky was filming it for blackmail purposes of course, and Ocean watched the entire thing unravel. 

“Noel! Mischa!” She slapped them both with her slipper. “Keep it PG, please!” 

“How am I supposed to keep kisses PG when he is so beautiful?” Mischa whined. It was hard to tell if he was serious or just bothering Ocean. 

“I don’t know! Just peck him on the cheek or something!” She snapped.

”How? His lips are too-“

”Mischa.” Ocean locked eyes with him. “Shut it. If you two are going to kiss, make it gentle and-“

They immediatly started making out again. 

Ocean rubbed her temples. Ricky, who had previously been lost in some movie or another on his phone, looked up at her with a sympathetic smile. 

Maybe we could play a game, he signed, might get the love-birds to chill for a minute or two.

”You saw what happened with Uno.” She said forlornly. “Any competitive game we have just pisses Mischa off. We can’t do anything right.” 

It does not have to be competitive, Ricky argued. We could play truth or dare. 

”Ricky, you’re brilliant.” Ocean clapped her hands together. “Guys! Come back to the living room, we’re playing truth or dare whether you like it or not!” 

Reluctantly in some cases, the rest of the choir agreed. They gathered into a tight circle around the coffee table. 

It was my idea, so I’m starting. Ricky stated. He turned to Noel. Truth or dare? 

Noel pondered this for a moment. “Truth.”

When is the last time you wet the bed?

Noel’s face went bright red. “Of all questions to ask, that one?”

Yes.

“Not since like…fifth grade.”

”Fifth grade?” Penny questioned. “That’s a little bit recent if you ask me!”

”He was a chronic bed-wetter in elementary school.” Constance said sadly, as if she were notifying the group of a loss in the family, to which Noel blushed even more and pressed his face into Mischa’s chest. 

After a good three minutes of sitting in awkward silence, Noel looked up from his spot in the crook of his boyfriend’s arm. “Constance. Truth or dare?”

”Truth.” Constance said immediatly. Ricky signed out: CHICKEN! But nobody seemed to notice.

”If you had to cut one of your friends out of your life, who would it be?” 

Constance pondered this for a moment. “Uhm…” she glanced at Ocean. “I’ll skip.” 

Ocean glared at her. “No no. Answer.” Constance’s face went pale. “No! Uhm…Mischa, truth or dare?” 

Mischa grinned. “Dare.” 

Constance thought about this for a moment. “Show us the last photo in your phone.”

Mischa opened his photos app. He tapped the first one—a particularly unflattering shot of Noel. Noel glared at him, but Mischa pressed a kiss to his lips and Noel curled up again. 

“Penny, your go.” Mischa said, stroking Noel’s hair as the shorter boy stared up at him, annoyed, but didn’t get up. 

“Dare!” Penny beamed. “I’m no chicken.” 

Mischa stretched out on his place on the sofa. “Kiss the hottest person in the room.” 

“That’s a little extreme.” Noel noted, worriedly glancing at Mischa, then staring back at Penny. “I love it.” 

Penny took a moment to gather her composure, stood up…

..And advanced on Ocean. 

Within seconds, their lips met in a flurry of passion. Both were blushing like hell, and Ocean could see Ricky and Constance staring with wide eyes. Mischa was laughing, and Noel had a very ‘I told you so’ look on his face. 

Penny’s lips were soft and supple. Her breath, which Ocean was well aware of as it was blowing in her direction, smelled of bubblegum. Ocean hated that she was enjoying this. 

Penny pulled away, panting. Their eyes met. 

“Woah, keep it PG there.” Mischa smirked. And at that point, Ocean was too flustered to say another word. 

She felt herself getting lightheaded. The entire group, including Penny, was staring at her. That was it. 

Ocean passed out on the couch. 

“Ocean! Ocean!” She awoke to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her vigorously. “Come on, asshole, get up!”

”Language!” Her eyes flashed open. Noel was hovering over her. The others seemed to have given them some space. 

 He helped Ocean up into a sitting position. “You were out for a solid ten minutes.” Noel explained, “I thought you were dying. A little disappointing, to be honest.” 

She didn’t even have the wits to punch him in the arm. “What was that? It’s…it’s a sin! But…I liked it?”

Noel smirked. “Ocean, answer me honestly here. Have you, ah, ever felt attraction to women? Because it kind of seems like…”

”Noel! Are you implying that I’m a…a lesbian?” 

“I don’t know. Are you a lesbian?”

 Ocean whined and kicked her feet. “I don’t know! It’s like…Penny’s really, really pretty. And… I liked when she kissed me. But it’s wrong. I’ve never…”

Noel put a finger to his lips. “You and I haven’t seen eye to eye on something since third grade when we both agreed that the pink Power Ranger was the best one, but you know…we’re still friends. And I think maybe you need some help coming out.”

”Coming…out.” She winced. The words felt odd coming from her mouth. 

Noel nodded. “The others are in the kitchen, making popcorn. I wanted to be here when you got up to talk you through it. I have experience. Now uhm…do you like dudes too?”

”I’ve never thought too hard about it.” She admitted. “I was always pretty focused on my education, never really bothered thinking too much about boys or girls. But now that we’ve graduated St. Cassian’s…”

”You find yourself thinking about Penny more and more?”

”Exactly.”

Noel’s gaze softened. “Yeah, Ocean…if it makes you feel better, I took a while to come out too. Now go get your girl, you horrible succubus.” 

Ocean flashed an angered look at him. She stepped out into the kitchen, where Constance was yelling at an annoyed Mischa to get out the vacuum to clean up their mess of popcorn and corn chips, Ricky was frantically signing every cuss word he knew, and Penny was gazing wistfully out the window. 

“Penny…” Ocean tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I have a word with you?”

Penny turned to her, those doe-like eyes searing into her soul. Her lashes fluttered, making Ocean’s heart leap. 

“Of course.” Penny smiled. She got up and led Ocean to a private area, the large closet in the hallway.

”What is it? Is it about the kiss? I’m really sorry, I probably should have asked for consent. Never again, I swear.” Penny said, hands held above her chest defensively. 

“No, no,” Ocean waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not it…well, it is, but…” she gulped, “Noel talked me through it a little bit. I’m not even close to understanding who I am, not yet, but what I do know is…I like you, Penny.”

Penny gave a soft, gentle smile. Her hand moved to Ocean’s cheek, letting the redhead nuzzle into it. “I like you too. And you’re sure that’s okay?”

”To be honest? I feel sort of guilty about it, but…that’s only natural, right?”

Penny chuckled lightly. “That’s right. Now…can I kiss you again? With consent this time!”

Ocean smiled up at her. She stood up on her tippy-toes, and her lips touched Penny’s for one more blissful moment.

Snap! 

The girls turned around at the sound of a camera flash. Ricky was standing there with a smug grin, his phone in his hand. 

He tucked it away then carefully signed out a single sentence:

I knew it. 

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

A measure of reverence, Pt. 1

Please accept my genuine apologies for the month long delay again, slowpokes. I do have the next two stories after this typed out, which amazes even me :D

When - the morning of the season 2 Chupacabra episode whooo. For the Slowpoke Series, the morning after A mighty good team.

What - the group is gearing up for another day of searching. There’s caffeine, chattering about an iconic early 2000s TV show, Daryl cracking funnies (”What are you brayin’ at, jackass?”), and Shane’s gradual descent. And you finally primp your eyebrows

Relationships - slow burn Daryl x You at the friendship level growing stronger every day, platonic Glenn, and more.

Perspective - You 2nd, Him (Daryl POV) 3rd

Pronouns? - she/her for convenience

TWs? - some language

Is it super long? - nope, about 3,500 words

Is it boring? - at times, y’all, you know how it is. This one was kept lighter because the next two are a bit darker

Are there plot references to other stories? -  aw yeah, here’s a link to the Masterlist, slowpoke

Are there lame screenshots from the episode? - naturally, and word-for-word dialogue!

(never wanted to do a bleach wash for a fictional character’s costume so badly)

................................

Early-morning

................................

your morning

“Your mama said yes?” you check with Jimmy again.

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s smart, he knows the area.” Glenn sounds unsure of himself when he next volunteers, “And hey, after we get back, I can help you with…stuff. What, um, what stuff around the farm needs doing? I grew up helping my parents in the garden?”

While those two talk about that, you see that Lori is up and dressed and already hanging laundry to dry. She didn’t really sleep in as much as she probably needed to, but you call “Good mornin’!” just the same and go over to help her.

Dude, you’ve been buzzing around since 6am. The migraine that hit you last night you were able to pretty much do away with after taking the prescription Glenn found—but you woke up early to desperately use the toilet (not even in the RV, you’d used a quickly dug hole by the treeline behind some brush and trees. Blame the magnesium and charcoal).

Anyhoo, you made the coffee today while still half-asleep, and dude, one cup of coffee usually doesn’t perk you up so much!

You’d set up a jar of sun tea for Carol, did laundry, spent some time with Carl, chatted with Maggie and Patricia, survived the lengthy discussion between Rick and Hershel about Carl’s transfusion this afternoon during which Rick still didn’t confront you about how Carl getting shot was your fault and you really wish someone would just out and say it and get it over with, then you opened up + fed + watered the chickens before collecting the eggs for the Greenes, sacrificed a t-shirt to be made into fabric strips for the search party today, primped your eyebrows (finally), made your hair look passable, and wiped down with baby wipes in your tent by way of showering, AND learned some shoulder/neck PT exercises from Jimmy, it was great! You’ve barely even fallen into an inner spiral about the Shane/Lori/Rick/baby situation and about poor Sophia all morning!

Trotting over to Lori, you place your mug (it’s Jacqui’s old mug, actually) on the ground and start to help hang the damp, cleaned clothes. “How’d you sleep?”

Something about the way she says it seems hint that she feels guilty for not waking up early. “Slept like a log, if you can believe it. I didn’t even feel Rick get up.”

“Good.” You shake out and flatten Dale’s cargo pants to get some of the wrinkles out before hanging them.

“Was that your doing, then?”

“Might could’ve told him to sleep in with you last night.”

She takes a slow breath, then pastes on a smile and is most likely trying to sound normal when she asks, “Next time, wake me, especially on laundry day. How are you, is your dizziness gone, honey?”

“All gone.” But ouch, you lift your injured shoulder a little too high while hanging the pants.

She notices and lightly tuts. “Let me hang them, you can hand me the clothespins.” While fixing the line, she makes sure, “Last night, Patricia mentioned checking your stitches. Did you see her?”

“Saw her this morning when I was talking with Maggie. My stitches are doing great, gonna have ’em for another week or so. Why did you have on that frowny face as I walked over here, Lore?” You glance down at her belly then back to her eyes.

With a subtle shake of her head, she hangs up another shirt. “It’s nothing, it was…” she peeks over at you. “Carol just called me our ‘unofficial first lady.’ At first I thought it was funny, but...” That pasted-on cheerful expression falls away to reveal a sort of nervous look. “I-I don’t know why—was that just her saying that, you think?” Her tone of voice suggests that she hopes it’s only Carol who thought so.

However, you shrug very unhelpfully. “Rick is kinda the group’s head, I guess. How’d it come up?”

“She wants to cook dinner for the Greene’s.” She pauses, frowns, and becomes visibly uncomfortable. “But she thought the offer would sound better coming from me. I should’ve told her that was just Ed’s voice in her head, but I was too…I-I didn’t know what to respond so I just kept hanging laundry.”

At least her brows smooth out when she adds, “Dale’s boxers, of all things.”

That got you giggling. “On that topic, I don’t know how y’all got all the bloodstains out of all these. You’d never know.”

The clothes T-Dog had been wearing when his arm got sliced open + the clothing you, Rick, and Carl had been wearing when Carl was shot = clean as if nothing at all happened. Even the clothes the Greene’s lent you that you wore for two and a half days straight (and got egg and blood stains on) look fresh.

You crouch down to grab your coffee and cannot help but remember the phrase Daryl used last night regarding your ‘mother-henning’ as you check, “Did you eat enough breakfast, Lore? That way your vitamins will absor—shoot, we have to get vitamins.”

“I had some water when I woke up.”

“Oh, that’ll keep you going.”

She bumps you with her hips, entertained enough to smile a little.

“Wanna use Jacqui’s mug after I’m finished?” you offer, holding it up. The handle had broken during the rush to leave the CDC, but Lori glued it after. “Have a sip, it’s nice and strong. A little bit is okay, right?”

Nodding, she takes it and her eyes turned glassy. “I miss her.”

Which is why you aren’t expecting the sudden grin after she drinks some. “Honey, this is espresso.”

...........................

his morning

He’d woken up early and taken out the original map to bring to his tent so he could fix all the grids. When his stomach started yelling at him for breakfast, he brought the map back to the campsite and downed a can of beans while working. He even put timeframes down, it was a productive-ass early morning. And that’s with his slight headache after getting slightly drunk last night.

It was Y/N who actually, um…she noticed he wasn’t feeling too hot and went and brought him some painkillers. After poking fun about his breakfast choice, obviously.

Speak of, she’s on her way over with a mug of coffee.

“Good morning, troublemaker,” Dale calls to her. He’s holding this real teeny mug (teacup? fancy shot glass?). “It’s nice to be using Irma’s demitasse this morning.”

Not knowing what that means, Daryl watches as Y/N twists her mouth playfully while chirping back, “G’morning, Dale.”

“You’re definitely feelin’ better,” Daryl muses when she reaches him.

“Miles better from last night. Good stuff is gonna happen today.” She holds out her mug for some reas—oh, the coffee is for him?  

Again, he has to quickly pause and digest what it feels like for somebody to give a damn, then has to shove back the assumption that there’s some hidden angle behind it.

Except, when he goes to grab it, it’s barely full (?).

Carol’s voice pops in from his right, and he hasn’t ever heard her sound so teasing before. Never heard her make much noise at all. “Was the espresso accidental, pookie?”

Ha, ‘pookie.’

“Might could’ve been?” Y/N admits with a groan. “Yo, feel my pulse, it’s goin’ haywire.”

That explained why there wasn’t much coffee in the cup, he guesses. Intending to check over the map again, he’s next aware of Y/N snickering to Carol, “Ohh-ho, can that be his nickname?” with her thumb pointed at him.

What does she mean about a nickname? Best ignore that.

...wait, did she mean ‘pookie?’

His ears perk up again upon hearing Y/N happily announcing, “Nah, I slept off the migraine like almost completely!”

 That makes him stop nit-picking the grid boundaries and look up at her. “Last night?” Is she even okay to go out today?

 Y/N gives a little bow and takes a sip from her water bottle. “Like two hours after falling asleep I woke up ’cause I was getting one, so I took one of the pills Glenn found at the drug store and,” she pauses and turns around. “Glenn, air high-five!” she calls over, and he and she do a little clapping motion from a few yards away. And yeah, she winces because she used her bad shoulder.

Turning back with a shrug, she finishes, “But yeah, I simply went back to sleep, woke up feelin’ pretty good. I th-think having all those other painkillers already in my system helped,” she adds as Carol walks back to, uh, he didn’t know, someplace, wherever she came from. “How’s your hangover, any better? Stomach ain’t queasy?”

“I didn’t drink enough to get hungover, m’fine,” he grumbles. “You, uh, doing okay with what you got goin’ on?”

“Same as yesterday.” She starts concentrating on the new grid lines and appears to be silently mouthing directions while pointing out the path they’d taken yesterday. It’s like she’s studying for a test.

Then a dumb thing happens: when he goes to wipe his nose on his shirt, he smells tuna fish.

Cigarettes he knows he smells like, and BO, obviously, everyone’s sweaty as hell these days, but tuna? He’s gotta draw a damn line somewhere.

When he asks Y/N about it, she’s too absorbed in the grid to give a helpful answer. “I never really mind how you smell, to be honest. Ain’t there a thing to do with gene compatibility and that or some such?”

She doesn’t really mind how I…and what was that about jeans?

Lifting up his shirt again to sniff it then fast as he can, yanking it down where it rode up in the back so his scars won’t be on display, he asks more plainly, “I don’t smell like fish?”

“Oh, that, yeah.” She nods, taking another sip of water. “You had tuna with your breakfast again, right?”

He shakes his head and stands there dumbfounded, trying to figure out how it was possible that he smells like fish (and why he cares).

Rick comes over to study the grid, positioning himself next to Y/N with a “Good morning, weirdo. Daryl, how’s things?”

Then, Daryl remembers how he’d tossed that can of tuna he’d had for breakfast yesterday into his tent. When he took off his overshirt last night, he must’ve flung it right onto the can.

Maybe he should clean up in there…

…Either way, he’s jogging over to change.

.................................

You

“Colored strips to mark the boundaries and searched areas, that’s clever,” Rick mumbles. “Hey Dar—wait, where’d he g—” He looks up and all around. “Y/N, where’s Daryl? I was about to ask him a question.”

“Grabbin’ a fresh shirt.”

He nods and points to a spot on the map. “Do you know what this here is?”

“A high ridge. He wants to get to the top ’cause it’ll show a lot of the search area.”

“Then it looks like you and he are set to head this way after searching this stretch right here?”

“Mr. Greene said most of the houses there were cleared of any sick ones—um, walkers,” you share, massaging the side of your neck the migraine hit last night. “Our hope is Sophia found a safe place to hole up there, it’s right off the trail.”

On her way back to finish helping T-Dog cut the fabric strips for the search grids, Andrea briefly comes over and stands beside you to get a look at the new plans.

Rick’s doing The Squint at you. “Are you okay to join us today? How’s your head? I know Shane doesn’t…” he gestures at you leaves it at that.

Yeah, you know what Shane doesn’t want and what he thinks about the whole thing.

You assure Rick, “My head’s pretty good, all told,” and leave it at that.

“And the rest of you?” he presses, maintaining the squint.

Andrea raises her brows and has your back when she says, “She's able to decide for herself,” as she turns back to rejoin T-Dog, who, as you now see, is inclining his ear to listen in.

“Are your energy levels even any good after givin’ almost three pints two days ago?” you more remind Rick than ask.

He glances behind at the T-Dog and Andrea. Why’s he about to smile? “Well, after about a coffee mug’s worth of espresso,” he chuckles, “I’d say so.”

Ah, another accidental victim. You’re grateful no one in the group has heart issues (and that some of them recognized the mistake by the taste. You and Rick did not have that skill).

“Sorry, Ricky,” you say through an awkward smile.

But it’s cool, he’s still grinning about something. He looks at Andrea and T-Dog again. “When I mentioned how Shane doesn’t feel comfortable with her searching today, she licked the ridge of her teeth just like he does when he’s mad.”

“You’d think they was raised in the same house,” T-Dog dryly comments.

A dumb thing happens: the comment doesn’t hit you like you expect it to. You should have giggled and forgotten about it.

And you like being compared to your siblings, you love them. You loved it when your foster siblings started adopting mannerisms like you guys.

But hearing that silly, little, meaningless observation comparing you and Shane, it hit different…

Stop being an idiot about it. Stupid girl. Shane is a good man, you know that. Give him a damn break.

Rick looks more serious when he murmurs, “Speak of, let me go get him. Just need to go over a few things. Be ready in a few.”

.................................

Him

He had to take a dump first, so he’s only just now grabbing a different shirt. He figured he’d just yank his clean one from the clothesline.

“I can give you one of Shane’s ribbed tanks if you want,” he then hears Y/N offer.

He looks over to where she’s walking with two bundles of strips, one white, one yellow.

Then he looks down at his tank top. Is it that bad?

Whatever, he’s gonna put something on over it, anyway. “It’ll get just as mucked up as this one.” Speaking of, he grabs his shirt off the clothesline and starts to unbutton it.

This look passes over her face as she peeks at his tank top for a stretch longer than he would think was normal. “That was Merle’s,” she figures out.

How, he has no idea.

“You’ve always worn the ones with the thick straps that go up higher, your brother tended to wear the more wife-beater type—sorry! The kind with thinner straps. Ma hated the nickname for those types of tanks.” She follows this up with an apologetic mention of, “They called them ‘wife-beaters’ in The OC, so it’s on my mind,” as if whatever that was made sense to him.

“...That a movie?”

“A TV show. Oh, Glenn!” she suddenly calls over to him.

One of their little exchanges starts. Daryl forgets to put on his shirt because truth be told, it’s kinda easy to get kinda sucked in when those two start, even though those two can jabber on about literally damn nothing.

She stretches her arm carefully. “Your middle sister made you watch The OC with her, right?” she asks Glenn.

“She and I did, yeah. Appa, too, but it was more of a hate-watch thing. Kinda weird they only ever had one Asian on the show, dude, like, Orange County’s got a huge Asian population. We’re like 1 in 6.”

Y/N looks at Daryl in expectation of him being surprised, too, then back at Glenn. “For real?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s crazy.” She flops the bundle of fabric strips from one hand to another. Glenn starts to sword fight it or whatever with the other bundle of strips.

“Oh right, sorry—anyways,” Y/N starts up again, “Maggie and I got to talkin’ about the show over breakfast. We both decided it stopped existing five minutes before the third season ended but we both love that Kirsten and Sandy had another baby in the season four.”

“Oh, and the thing with Kirsten’s alcoholism? And the way Ryan—”

However Glenn was gonna end that sentence gets cut off by Rick as he and Shane stride over to the map laid out on the hood of Carol’s old Jeep station wagon.

“Good mornin’, guys. Let get going. We got a lot of ground to cover.”

Daryl jogs over with his shirt. It’s hot as hell outside, he’s already sweating like a pig in a bacon factory.

He ends up next to T-Dog, Rick in the middle, Andrea beside him, Y/N, then Shane.

“All right, everyone’s getting new search grids today,” Rick starts. “If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might’ve gone further East than we’ve been so far.”

As Daryl finally puts on his shirt, the teenage boy appears from out of nowhere. “I’d like to help,” he pipes in. “I know the area pretty well and stuff…”

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Rick asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, um—he said I should ask you.”

Unless he was just nervous, what that Jimmy kid just said was either a lie or a white lie. But, Rick doesn’t argue.

For a cop, that guy’s a little too trusting. “All right, then. Thanks.”

Daryl catches Y/N’s frown as she looks at him, then at Jimmy, then at Rick with her brows all low, unconvinced. It looks like she’s about to wave Jimmy closer when her brother interrupts.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me.”

Not even looking at her directly, Daryl sees his friend’s muscles tense up, he can tell even from his spot across from her.

“Give this a measure of reverence, Shane,” she hushes. She’s trying not to react too strong.

“I’m bein’ upfront about the situation, Y/N,” Shane insists. Then to everyone there, he goes on to declare, “Daryl brought her back there just yesterday, she wasn’t convinced. Anybody could’ve been holed up in that farmhouse.”

The way his friend hunched when her brother mouthed off made a big part of him want to mouth off right back. But Andrea, classy as hell, steps in without missing a damn beat. “Anybody includes Sophia, right?”

She was so casual about it that it pretty much made it seem like she was brushing off a bug from her shirt. That chick is good, shit.

..................................

You

Andrea must’ve been such a good attorney, good Moses. You’ve never seen her feathers ruffled, like, ever, she lets it all just roll off. How is she so calm? Because while you were fixing to pounce, probably very obviously, she slid a hand around your waist and smoothly (so smoothly!) pointed out to Shane, “Anybody includes Sophia, right?”

It’s either the jitters from the caffeine or your damned hot head, because you’re just—you’re ready to start clawing at the man who’s overtaking your brother, because why would he have said that out loud? To all them? You’re fucking mortified.

That wasn’t Shane, it wasn’t Shane! Why is he being like this? And why can’t he button his stupid shirt all the way, huh?

Dale is coming out of the RV and gives you a look as if asking ‘what happened?’ so, you imagine taking the stupid tea kettle off the stupid burner to calm down.

No one else seems to be as agitated as you, not even Daryl, which is a huge relief.

Echoing Andrea, he’s as nonchalant as they come when he scratches his nose and reminds everyone, “Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yea-high.”

To which Andrea is quick to reinforce, “Good lead,” along with Rick when he agrees, “Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again.”

“No ‘maybe’ about it,” he grunts. “We’re gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird’s eye view of the whole grid.” Except, Daryl hadn’t mentioned anything about a horse before, neither yesterday nor today.

First of all, he can ride a horse? Hot. Second…who did he ask for permission about borrowing one? He briefly catches your confused stare as he points to the spot on the map. “If she’s up there, we’ll spot her.”

T-Dog’s been nodding away at all of this, impressed. “Good idea,” he tells Daryl. But then his brows lift and his lips pout a little in the way that happens before he cracks a joke. Lo and behold: “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there, too.”

The tension in your body from a few moments ago goes *poof* as you grin.

“Chupacabra?” Rick repeats, again sporting The Squint.

“You never heard this?” Dale, now next to Daryl and across from you, hoists the gun bag on the hood and begins handing them out while staring into space and narrating. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole things reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra.”

Sweet little Jimmy finally relaxes and lets out a quiet giggle while Rick’s squint turns into a mild smirk.

Unfortunately for sweet little Jimmy, Daryl grates at him, “What are you brayin’ at, jackass?”

Okay, you’re sorry, but even though it wasn’t appropriate of him to react that way to an innocent giggle, that comeback was really quick and you’re snorting. Still, poor kid. You switch places with Andrea to be next to Jimmy and make a point to openly laugh at the conversation.

Rick is stuck in squint-mode, isn’t he? “You believe in a blood-sucking dog?”

And Daryl is quick on the draw. “You believe in dead people walkin’ around?”

Yet again, you’re somehow the only one who finds this funny (Glenn, dude. Where are you?).

Next thing you see is Jimmy casually reaching for a long gun.

Rick and you both stop his arm, and T-Dog cautions, “Hold on there, kid.”

“Hey, hey. You ever fire one before?” Rick challenges.

“If I’m going out, I want one.”

Daryl shoulders his crossbow and tosses out, “Yeah, and people in hell want slurpees.”

You’re the only one laughing, again. Rough crowd today.

“Jimmy, yesterday I got ‘quit cluckin’ like a mother hen’ from him, don’t even worry about it,” you share. “You mentioned you did skeet shooting with your dad before, right? So you’ve fired a shotgun, then?”

“Once or—I mean, yeah.”

That means he has no idea, never mind.

Shane speaks up and sounds much more like himself when he does. “Why don’t you come train tomorrow? If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

“Not to brag, but he’s a really good one, too,” you definitely brag.

Jimmy, overwhelmed at all the attention from grown-up strangers, nods slightly.

Andrea (so smoothyl!) tactfully and kindly solves the problem. “For now, he can come with us.”

“He’s yours to babysit then,” is Shane’s brusque surrender, and he waves Jimmy over with his hunting tomahawk.

Andrea, of course, doesn’t pay this any mind and goes to arm herself with her pistol. You try to follow suit by not staring daggers at your brother.

Instead, you finally let everyone know, “Glenn is going with him, y’all. I don’t know where he ran off to, but these are theirs.” You hold up the yellow fabric strips, then look at Jimmy. “Glenn’s smart and fast, you’ll be in great hands with him,” you say out loud, then whisper in his ear, “I know you asked your mama, but you gotta ask Mr. Greene, too, okay?” Back to a normal volume, you wish him and those around the station wagon, "Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

You’ve just started to jog off to join Daryl and start today’s search when Shane stops you and pulls you in for a hug. He kisses your head. “Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

.................................

the official teeny tiny taglist

@its-freaking-bats​ @spenciepoo338​ @whistlesalot​

[silkendandelion]

The Real Thing (Final Version)

A Fears to Fathom: Ironbark Lookout Fanfiction

ao3 link

Jack Nelson x Connor Hawkins Words: 2.2k Genre: Fluff, humor, horror elements Summary: A short one-shot to look at Jack and Connor's lives after the events of My Own, Distant Home, and is a short prologue/teaser to the in-progress sequel. Alternative title: Two fools in love have no idea what genre they're in.

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences for sexually suggestive content and mild language, and horror elements.

Tall, bright green trees lined the blacktop road, obscuring the path around the upcoming curves but not able to block out the sun on such a clear, summer day. The RV navigated the winding road with ease in Jack’s hands, most recently passing a green interstate sign, “You are now leaving Idaho”, and then the doubly large sign after it where a cowboy on his horse declared “Welcome to Wyoming: Forever West.”

“I think you were more excited to get your CD collection back than your truck,” said Jack as Connor flipped happily through his shoe-box of albums, whose edges were worn down to the cardboard where it had been slid out and back under the bench seat for years.

“The joy is split, for sure. I let the kids keep all the ones they wanted.”

Jack took his eyes off the road long enough to smile back at him, admiring the childish joy on his face as he hunched over the box, thumbing over track lists like he was a teenager again, in a music store for the first time.

Behind their RV, they towed along said truck, a 2000 Toyota Tacoma in what Connor affectionately called “Stacy’s favorite green”, bought brand new for cash the year he left the army. The truck he only drove for a few months before he became a fire lookout at Ironbark, and since then had been driven almost exclusively by Stacy: Connor’s older sister, another deceptively charming blonde with two children under 10 and no one to rely on besides her brother. Twin fuzzy dice in lucky red bounced beneath the rear-view mirror, bleached almost pink from summers at the lake and catching Jack’s eye in the side mirror.

“That was an incredible thing you did, Connor,” he said. “To buy Stacy a car in exchange for getting the truck back, when it was yours to begin with, and I don’t think she would have fought you on wanting to keep it with us.”

“Nah.” He shooed away Jack’s admiration, flipping over the CD in his hand. “I wasn’t gonna leave her with nothing. And it wasn’t like I got her a Mercedes, just a little something for her to get back and forth to the plant and the kids to school. I should be thanking you actually, you’re the one who looked over the engine and told the guy to change the oxygen sensors before we would paid for it.”

Jack just offered a shrug, though he smiled when Connor reached over to nudge his cheek gently with his knuckles.

“What kind of albums do you have, Jack? I think we’ve listened to nothing but the radio since we left Washington.”

“I like the radio,” he said matter-of-factually. “It’s got NPR, weather, every—THING! Connor, no.” He yelled (squeaked) in alarm when Connor began rummaging through the glove compartment, searching for evidence that he was fibbing. Curse the RV for being so wide, he risked swerving if he reached far enough to slam the lid closed. Meanwhile, smiling and completely unbothered, Connor continued to snoop.

“What do we have here? Oh, Jack. Jackie, baby, what are these?” He grinned in triumph to hold up a handful of CDs: his partner’s most private feelings in rhythm and prose. “Is this what you listened to before you picked me up? Tracy Chapman, Bobby Caldwell—Jackie? Blue-eyed soul?”

Jack’s red cheeks approached their smoking point, hands tight on the steering wheel. If Connor squinted, he might see steam rising from his collar beneath the tight line of his lips. “Don’t make fun of me, Connor, please.”

“I would never, Jack,” he said earnestly, all whiskey and warmth as he popped open one of the cases and began to decipher the RV’s stereo system. Static seemed to be the most common channel in their current neck of the woods, among a brief news transmission: ‘—ark state park in Washington, where the body count is up to 9—’

Stop. Go back.

“What?” He mumbled, so quietly Jack only hummed his vague acknowledgment as Connor flipped the channels back and forth, desperate to return to that station.

“It… it was this one, I’m sure of it,” he said, met with only snowy static from the stereo, and Jack took his eyes off the road for less than a moment.

“What was? I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

His blood chilled, too much like that night when he had descended from the tower to work on his generator in the middle of the night, believing they were safe and leaving Jack to sleep off his episode alone—until he heard the crickets go quiet in the bushes behind him.

Jack had been the one to save him then, and he would not be caught unaware again. Nor would he let himself be weak when Jack trusted him enough to need him.

“It’s not important, I can’t even find the station again.”

The awkward tilt of Jack’s half-smile was reassuring, even as his heart pounded too hard. He reached to press a button with a circular graphic, one Connor hadn’t assumed was supposed to be a CD, and the little orange display flashed ‘INSERT DISC’.

“… Ah.” It was Connor’s turn to blush, though Jack couldn’t hold himself back from a good-natured chuckle.

“Under 30 and still bested by technology.”

“Hey, I spent four years falling behind on the curve. Do you think the army gave us anything more advanced than ping pong paddles and sun dials? It did make me excellent at smoke signals, though.”

Jack’s laugh warmed him, the only thing he had found that could chase away the unease lately. “You’re an old soul even without living mostly analog all that time.”

“We couldn’t even afford all those letters, they just gave us ANAM,” Connor said with his most comically raised eyebrows, just to hear him laugh again.

As he slipped the disc in the slot, a sensual piano filled the cabin, renewing Jack’s embarrassment when a sultry saxophone joined the singer, the iconic croon of a soulful ballad. He burned, resisting the urge to show how much he was enjoy himself, and chanced a quick look at Connor.

To the tune of his fluttering heart, he only found him smiling, no longer looking through his shoe-box or reading the billboards. Smiling at him, all warm brown eyes as he whispered along with the words, as if to say that between them, everything was sacred because nothing could be wrong.

“I want the real thing, or nothing at all. I need someone that I can be sure will catch me if I should fall. Someone who’ll be there when I call, then I’ll know that it’s the real thing.”

“How… do you know all the words?” Jack said, more to himself than aloud.

“Why do you think?” He reached across the console to touch his hand where it loosened it’s grip on the wheel. “You never have to be embarrassed, Jack, not with me. We’re in this together.”

Easy for him to say, when he’s the one playing with the tempo of the poor man’s heart and the temperature in the room. They came to a stop under a light, and Jack busied his hands tapping his thumb on the wheel until he heard Connor’s seat-belt click, saw him rise to walk towards the back of the RV.

“Where are you going?”

“Use your imagination, Jack, I can’t exactly wander far. Although, I suggest you find a place to park soon, or you might miss the good part.”

“The wh—” He kept his foot on the brake, turning to look for him, just to bite down on his words as Connor slowly threaded his belt free, letting it fall to the rug with a quiet thump. Next came his shirt, pulled off by his hand on the back of his collar. Among the slow reveal of his toned back, the moles on his spine, the song urged Jack onward, a different one, something about “Come to me” and “Let me love you, honey”.

“The light’s green, Jack.” Connor smirked at him, and tossed his shirt in the vague direction of the driver’s seat.

Jack snapped his eyes back to the road, pressing the gas a little too hard and hearing Connor’s laugh drift up from where he grabbed the kitchen counter to steady himself. Quietly, lest he be seen through even more than he already was, he vowed that if he didn’t find a place to park in the next few miles, he would pull over to the shoulder and lock the door.

From the bedroom, a quiet moan piqued his hot ears, among the sound of what might have been his name if he could hear better over the stereo.

Shit. All right, 1 mile.

By the grace of somebody, otherworldly or other, the parking lot to a campsite appeared on his right, empty too, all thanks to the heat advisory that was said to last for the rest of the week. Jack was probably the only person in the county grateful for it, if only because it meant leaving the key in the ignition to keep the AC running left the music on too.

He found Connor already splayed across the bed, distracted from his intentions by the toy bear on the windowsill, the little “Get Well Soon” card in his arms beginning to fade from all the sunbathing he did while his dads drove from state to state. His fingertip nudged the bear’s plastic nose, and Jack began to press kisses along the slope of his shoulder, over the old ink of his tattoo.

“Are we staying here for the night? Adrian’s expecting you Monday morning,” he said.

“I won’t be late, I promise.” Connor turned to steal a kiss from his lips, several actually as he coaxed him to lie back against the pillows. “But whether we get there the day before or the morning of—depends on how much you’ll let me do to you.”

He bared his neck in a plain invitation despite his protests, allowing Connor to seek out his favorite places to kiss while Jack ran encouraging hands into his hair, shorter now after his interview, as well as smoothing his palms over the scratch of the day-old stubble on his chin. It had been a telephone interview, of which Jack reminded him he didn’t have to shave, but Connor insisted it was the right thing to do.

“You’ve always been the needier one, but this—,” Jack’s breath hitched when teeth grazed the skin behind his ear. “You’ve been really affectionate lately.”

“It might be awhile before we get the chance again.”

Light and teasing just a moment ago, the quiet melancholy of Connor’s voice against his neck made Jack’s eyes flutter back open. He cupped his face in his palms, warm in the cheeks where his body was still wound up despite himself, and beckoned him to look up.

“Hey.” From so close, he could see all the barely-there freckles across his nose and cheeks, too light to be anything more than a secret to the rest of the world who didn’t get to hold him the way Jack did. He placed another kiss on his lips. “You’re so good to me. Remember that.”

Connor’s brow scrunched, worried still as he let their foreheads touch. “I want to live up to the version of me that’s in your head.”

“He’s real, I’m holding him. I can feel his dick on my leg.”

The sudden sputter of Connor’s laugh puffed warm across both their faces, and Jack grinned back at him with what he hoped was all the adoration he felt in his chest, the swell of his heart when Connor smiled so bright.

“Okay, Jack… You say you’re not funny, but I like funny men.”

“Eh, logical fallacies, something something, cognitive bias.”

“You lost me.”

“No I didn’t, I can still feel—”

Connor shut him up with a deep kiss, coaxing his mouth open with his thumb so he could slide their tongues together until their lungs burned. With a wet sound, he finally relinquished his lips, admiring the daze in his hazel eyes and the berry-red of his mouth until his voice broke the spell.

“Who are you?” Jack quipped.

“Someone who loves you very much.”

The softness of his face disarmed any playfulness left in the air, replaced only by earnest devotion and the looming ache of starting over, bittersweet no matter how wonderful the company is.

They deserved a break.

Neither of them knew the winter was going to be a hard one. That before the end of the year, they would be in danger again. To take comfort now was a gift, to hold each other close before the leviathan resident of those Ironbark woods emerges from the trees and begins to seek out the only survivors who know it’s name.

They couldn’t know it was

was already awake

.

They cannot know my name.

[jumping-joey1104]

I write so much for Sreepypasta I have to do something for Slenderverse. Gotta reign in both fandoms to my hell-site of a blog SO

Slenderverse Crack Headcanons

(Includes EverymanHybrid, Mlandersen0, TribeTwelve, and Marble Hornets)

EverymanHybrid

Evan is the kind of guy to use any nearby container to fill with energy drinks

Dude has definitely used an empty bleach bottle to fill with a cursed concoction of Monsters and Red-Bull

Only drinks the lo-carb monster because "it's healthier"

Vinny would've been a twitch streamer if EverymanHybrid took place nowadays

The closest person I could compare with how he acts on stream is Philza

Has gotten doxxed like 3 times now but he does not care

Jeff would stream with Vincent but only plays minecraft, and is ten times better at it than anyone else

Probably has a discord server and for some reason he made Evan admin and now everyone calls him senpai

He knows what it means and hates it, He has a separate channel to put Evan and his associates by crime in and locks them in there

Alex is the one that started it all

MLAndersen0

Nobody knows where Michael got his ugly ass curtains, and he refuses to say where he go a sheet of pure denim fabric

He would have so many fidget toys, he just likes the little clicks, and yes he would throw them at Shaun like a latina mother and her chanclas

For some reason this man can make a mean drink, coffee, alcohol, hell even koolaid. You ask him for a drink he's bringing you a margarita

Shaun would play Call of Duty, all of the games. He plays them

Goes into extensive research on what slurs he can reclaim so he could bully kids online with a good conscience

"What slurs can I reclaim if my brother is a psychopath?" And Stormy just looks at him with fear

Speaking of Stormy she can outdrink both men, one time Michael dared them to take a shot of 99 proof and she took three

She quotes vines all the time, regularly asks Michael "Where's the B" and he doesn't understand at all

Shaun understands her and they quote vines together while Michael cries in confusion

Eric Cyberbullies Micheal with pictures of cups dangerously close to the edge of a surface

Tribetwelve

Noah has gone three days without sleep, slams down a sugar-free redbull and passed out in his kitchen before and blames the collective

Dude was a huge party guy in Highschool but always ended up sitting in a corner petting the dog at the party

This raggedy ass man loves the resident evil movies and says their peak cinematography, refuses to take any other suggestions

Kevin is peak stoner mode, and has tricked Noah into eating edibles before. By tricked I mean he left them out and Noah ate half of them before he was caught

Dude is the WORST tripsitter btw, he's the type of guy that would smoke a blunt and go "Do you think god loves us" before putting on a horror movie

Dude can handle marijuana perfectly but can only drink one cup of alcohol before getting black out, absolute lightweight

Milo has watched so much anime, so much. He has at least eleven shirts revolving around Sailor Moon and Beserk.

He's never watched Beserk he just likes the art, Noah and Kevin refuse to tell him what it is. They just wait until he finds out.

Probably the best at drawing out of all of them, he just has the gift of art and abuses it. His journal has a ton of different doodles

All three suck at Mario Kart but still play it together, yes it ends up with Kevin and Noah fighting while Milo wins the race

Marble Hornets

Tim is so tired of everyone, all the time. If given the choice he will mentally destroy everyone but Brian says no.

Definitely can quote all of Hamilton and says he would play Aaron Burr just so because he knows all his lines. He's a silent theater nerd

Brian is a loud theater nerd, one time he yelled at Alex "You see the stage to your left? Keep walking till you hit a wall."

Whenever he comes to practice with Tim he'll have two of the same drinks so he can give one to Tim.

Jay is so dumb, bless his soul. He forgets words and just randomly replaces them to the men's horror. "I wanted to have eggs for breakfast but I couldn't find my Skittle"

Tim and Alex are the only ones that understand him, but Alex makes fun of him "You mean skillet?"

Alex get picked on so much by them, Tim calls him cringe and he'll cry in the bathroom for 15 minutes before saying a comeback

He is for sure one of the most sarcastic jerk you would ever meet even if he tried to be nice

Poor Jessica is just standing there the whole time, she's the single mother of three sons and she knows it.

Both her and Amy are so tired of trying to keep the men from getting arrested when they're recording

[redandbrown]

Shell Cottage

Hermione watched the shadows of the seashells imbedded in the ancient bleached-white plaster walls dancing in the firelight. The night outside the window was darker than usual as clouds covered any moonlight that would have illuminated the beach below. Luna had left her to go outside to collect something called “lumi-wisps” in the sand dunes. Hermione had just nodded, too tired to ask her what she was talking about. She smiled fondly, remembering the excited expression on Luna’s face as she had grabbed a basket and a jar of fig jam and headed out the door.

She gingerly lifted the delicate lacy blouse Fleur had lent her over her head. Every muscle in her body ached. Her lungs were still sore from screaming, and she never remembered feeling this utterly exhausted in her life.

“Fucking hell, Hermione!” A deep familiar voice said behind her, sounding panicked. Hermione jumped and spun around to see Ron hastily depositing a cup of hot tea on a nearby dresser, brown liquid sloshing over the rim as he hurried towards her. His pale blue eyes were etched with worry.

Hermione’s hands had instinctively shot up across her chest trying in vain to shield her bra-clad breasts, but Ron didn’t seem interested in ogling her. When he was close enough, he quickly spun her around by her shoulders, keeping one large hand there as if to hold her in place.

Hermione gasped in pain as Ron’s finger traced a deep gash on her lower back.

“Shit! Sorry!” Ron mumbled, quickly pulling his finger away. His hand left her shoulder and she felt unreasonably cold. Hermione reached out, grabbed the blouse she had just removed, and held it close to her chest as she turned around to face Ron again.

Her brown eyes found his blue as both his hands came up to gently grab her upper arms. “Why didn’t Fleur heal that? She could’ve done better examining you,” he said, sounding slightly irritated.

Ron’s hands had started sliding down her arms as he spoke, the back of his knuckles completing the circuit as they lightly grazed her arms coming back up.

“She…umm…” Hermione closed her eyes for a moment breaking the stare they had been locked in. His hands were resting again on her upper arms and his thumbs were now rubbing a path on her skin that was making it difficult for her to concentrate right now.

She was very much aware that she was shirtless in front of Ron, and his embrace, although gentle, was subtly pulling her toward him. She wondered if he was even aware that he was doing it. Ron was close enough that Hermione had to crane her head up to look him in the eyes and she smelled an unfamiliar aftershave on him, probably Bill’s. Hermione was getting lost in his worried blue eyes. He looked like he was waiting on something from her.

Wasn’t she supposed to be saying something to him?

“What?” She asked him.

He took a step closer to her and one of his large hands came up to cradle her face as his thumb traced the edges of the cursed cut on her neck.

Hermione’s breath hitched.

“Fleur missed that cut on your back,” he explained again, his eyes darting all over her face studying her expression.

“No, she didn’t. It won’t heal. Probably cursed. Like the one on my neck,” Hermione told him, relishing being this close to him. Suddenly all the aches in her muscles didn’t seem to hurt quite as much.

Ron’s eyes snapped back to hers, his jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. He took a more determined step towards her, his one hand still resting protectively on her neck, and she could feel his tshirt brushing against her exposed stomach.

He took in a deep breath, as if bracing himself for the answer to his next question. “How did she give you that one?”

Hermione looked away from him trying to recall the painful memory.

“Well I think I had passed out and awoke again. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but- but I remember waking up to your voice. Calling my name. And- and I told myself to fight.”

Ron let out a shaky breath and Hermione looked up to see his eyes had turned red and he was blinking hard.

She made sure to maintain eye contact with him for the next part.

“I saw a wand. In someone’s hand. I don’t know whose it was, but I just focused on it. I had to get back to you, Ron. I lunged for it, and she” - Hermione still couldn’t bear to say her name - “she cut me. I fell back down to the ground, and she hit me with cruciatus curse again.”

Hermione swallowed back a lump that was forming in her own throat. “But it didn’t matter. Because I knew you were fighting to get to me. And I knew. Ron, I- I just knew you were going to make it -

In that instant Ron grabbed Hermione and pulled her into him, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He started shaking violently and Hermione held him while all the fear he had been carrying began to fall off his shoulders in waves.

When the shaking had stopped, she pulled back and looked at him. His face was streaked with tears and he was taking deep breaths to calm himself. She used her thumbs to wipe the tears away, but before she could finish, Ron leaned in quickly and kissed her. He pulled her back to him and held her close with one hand wrapped around her middle, the other tangled in her hair. His kisses were frenzied and desperate, and she matched his need with her own, giving as much as she got.

The blouse long forgotten, Hermione had wrapped her arms around Ron’s neck and clung to him as close as she could. This wasn’t enough. She needed more of him, all of him. She needed him to know how much she wanted him, needed him. How in love she was with him. How this evil that lurked outside in the darkness, waiting to destroy them could not get to them tonight. Not in this moment. In this moment, he was hers and she his. No one would take that from them.

Without warning Ron bent his knees until he was almost eye level with her and grabbed the back of her thighs, hoisting her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and their desperate kisses continued.

“Never again,” he muttered between kisses as he sat down on the bed with Hermione still in his lap. “Never again will they take you from me, Hermione. I promise you that.”

“Ron,” Hermione said as her mouth traveled down his chin to his neck. “You can’t promise that-

“Then I’ll die trying!” He said fiercely, pulling back to make her look at him. His blue eyes stood out brightly in deep contrast to the redness around them. His jaw was set and Hermione knew he was clenching his teeth in frustration and anger. Anger, she understood, at what she had been through. He suddenly looked so much older.

She grabbed the sides of his face and sat up as tall as was possible in his lap. “You’ll do no such thing, Ronald Weasley!” She said bossily, and she watched his features relax slightly in surprise at her tone.

He pulled his bottom lip in to wet it with his tongue as he studied her face again. “I don’t rightly reckon you can stop me, Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyebrow quirked up at his challenging tone. “Ronald Weasley, if you get hurt over something stupid-

“Keeping you safe is not stupid, Hermione!” He said angrily, tracing the edges of her cut again with his thumb.

Hermione was stunned into silence. She was trying to form a rebuttal in her head, but Ron’s thumb had left the scar and had started tracing patterns on her neck. He suddenly seemed enthralled with what his thumb was doing, following it’s trail with open mouthed kisses. Hermione closed her eyes, lost in the feel of his hot, wet tongue on her skin.

She was finding it difficult to resurface for air. “Ron,”she tried weakly. “Y-you can’t say things like that to me.”

“Why not?” He replied seeming much less interested in her answer than trying to taste the pulse point on her neck. She gasped at the feeling.

“B-because saying things like that might make me fall in love with you.”

Ron froze and pulled back to look at her intently. He was searching her face, looking for answers to his unasked questions.

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. “I-I mean if I wasn’t already-

“Oh! Excuse me! I didn’t realize- I’ll just be in the kitchen!” Luna stuttered. She had just walked in the room with a basket full of what looked like purplish colored fluffy insects that were glowing brightly.

Ron, in one fluid motion, had stood up quickly and deposited Hermione back on her feet. Taking a wide step away from her as if this new distance would somehow make Luna forget what she had just seen.

“Err I’m right behind you. Gotta talk to Harry…” Ron muttered to Luna’s retreating form.

Hermione picked up the long forgotten blouse and held it to her chest again. Ron dropped a kiss quickly on the top of her head.

“This conversation isn’t over yet, Mione,” he whispered to her before walking out the open door after Luna.

Hermione felt a new sensation in the pit of her stomach. Not one of dread or fear. No. She liked this new sensation. It made her feel hopeful and ready for anything.