#changing the subject at the speed of light

[nucleiaster]

I made a map for my story ! Click on the image for better quality

The action takes place in an open star cluster, the name of which can be roughly translated from Isshan to "the One With A Thousand Stars" / "the Eternal Warden" (though the Isshan word for "star" has other meanings, the first version is the most widely used translation (contrary to its name, the cluster "only" has around 700 stars)).

The Warden is around 40 light years in diameter and can be divided in 4 zones : the Core, the Center, the InBetween and the Edge.

The Core is unhabitable and inexplored, due to the lethal radiation levels caused by the high density of stars.

The Center is where most of the population of the cluster lives. It contains the 3 originally inhabited systems : Issha (the Captain is Isshan), Armis (birth place of Etha and Meden) and KseI (uppercase i, not lowercase L) (home of the KseIn, lizard-like people. The Lieutenant is half KseIn). Also in the Center are Noutéra, the planet given to the Humans by the Union, and in the centroid of the Issha-Armis-KseI triangle, the space station housing the government.

The InBetween, less populated than the Center but still under Union protection, is where most of the resources circulating in the Union are extracted. Many systems contain at least one outpost.

The Edge has been abandoned by the Union. It is scarcely populated, with few inhabited systems and fewer resources. Some Isshan outposts, dating back to the Exploration era, are scattered here and there. It is home to pirates, warlords, mercenaries and bounty hunters. The Edges are the hunting grounds of the Imperator.

Most of the One With A Thousand Stars is still unexplored. There are rumours of pirate factions warring in the Center, on the other side of the Core, and plenty of legends to fill the minds of spationauts with dread and wonder.

[hexane-nightmares]

I've recently created the stupidest camera.

120 film, takes 68 format macro shots.

Body and shutter: a box brownie.

Lens: a broken Canon EF 50mm f/1.8. Which isn't a medium format lens. However, the lens is so far from the film that it should mostly cover the medium format frame.

The obvious side effect of this is the changed focal distance: 51.5mm from lens to subject, which cannot be adjusted.

Aperture: fixed and unknown.

Shutter speed: set by the brownie, so only 1/45 ish or Bulb.

In theory this thing should have excellent image quality (the 50 1.8 is surprisingly nice) and be a nightmare to actually use. Note the almost total lack of exposure control, so I will probably only be able to control exposure with flash or filters, or just having the correct lighting to start with.

[ririblogsss]

y'all if any of you guys wants to expand upon or use as inspiration anything I've written do so. Also if you guys want me to write more abt something tell me.

Anyways with that out of the way.

Ive been thinking about collage Danny AU but instead of going to Gotham he goes to central city (its in Ohio, and The flash is based there). So im thinking that the population over there has a massive percentile of meta humans compared to other cities, because of the particle accelerator incident plus the multiple flash points. All this to say is that the people in Central City are used to civilians having enhanced strength, uncommon dietary restrictions, random outburst of power act.

So Danny just turned 18 comes in to get his degree in biochemical engineering and astronomy, after finishing school with extra credits. He gets a dorm with 2 other people a meta with speeding problems and a normal dude named Sam.

In Dannys perspective he is a very chill roommate, making sure he washes after himself when using the kitchen. Regularly taking out the trash ect..

In his roomates perspective, they think Danny is a paranoid meta who recently escaped a dysfunctional household where he was discriminated for being a meta.

why they have this assumption simple. Danny is clearly malnourished and refuses to actually make a diet he needs. Only eating small servings of food, and trying to save as much as possible for later. He gets paranoid when using moe strength than a human should posses, almost as if he's scared of getting found out. And third of all Danny glows in the dark, quite literally, its not an annoying or absurd amount. Danny glows the same way glow in the dark stars do.

So yeah Dannys roommates know he is a meta but they don't know how they should breach the subject as its clear that Danny is very paranoid of getting found out.

On the other hand Barry Allen is getting worried about his grandsons(bart) roomate, as its very concerning the demeanor he is displaying. Barry intends to investigate the situation more to make sure this isn't a 'broken phone' type of misunderstanding. And if it isn't he is pulling a Bruce.

Meanwhile Danny's on his dormitory roof enjoying the stars, sure there's light pollution but his enhanced vision allows him to see them as if were a clear sky. Not knowing how his life is going to change in the coming weeks.

[baeshijima]

— as we are

some may call him overbearing. you, on the other hand, find he is anything but that.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 848 wc, fluff, mayhaps a teensy bit of angst if you squint hard enough, established relationship, pre-penacony storyline

A/N : in a "match your freak" competition but my opponent is reader. (sits on the shore and stares out into the sea waiting for his drip marketing and light cone reveal so i can change the post layout to have his lc…)

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves.

It shows in the way he has a habit of putting others before himself, inadvertently causing him to neglect himself at the worst of times. It shows in the meticulous care he devotes to his sister, having even the most minute details embedded within the crevices of his mind. It shows in the moments where he nags at you for not taking better care of yourself, to which you find yourself subject to a less than impressed stare when you make a rebuttal of his hypocrisy.

Well, you find that the latter can be more annoying than it is welcome (mostly due to the fact his nags tend to be unprovoked when your guard is down, sometimes resulting in him chasing after you in your feeble attempts to escape), but you can at least acknowledge it comes from a place of care. Begrudgingly so.

Regardless, it doesn’t take away from the reality that Sunday only goes so far because he simply wants the best for you. After all, who would willingly speed-walk after you while reciting the basic necessities humans need in order to be healthy and happy? Certainly not someone who doesn’t care!

A slight shift halts your thoughts. Glancing down towards your lap, an involuntary smile tugs the corners of your lips at the sight of Sunday dozing away peacefully. You lift a hand to card it through his hair, mindful of the studs perched along his wings — as well as the wings itself — in case you accidentally awaken him due to its sensitivity.

(While it would be rather amusing to see him awaken in a fluster, you’re not mentally prepared enough for another one of his scoldings. Well, you suppose you also don’t want to interrupt his rare moment of rest as well.)

Light seeps in through the slight opening of the curtains. Translucent rays cast him amid a golden radiance, its gaze settling along the curve of his cheeks, brushing through his hair, and counting each strand of his lashes in a dim glow. Had you not known any better, you would have thought of him to be divinity itself.

With your fingers contentedly caressing through soft grey hair, a stifling warmth soon creeps up on you. The light which once cast a precious glow on your lover mere seconds ago now leaves an uncomfortable warmth searing into the back of your hand. It is a little unbearable, but nothing you cannot handle if it means preserving this peaceful moment a little while longer.

Well, until Sunday squints from the sunlight making contact with his closed eyelids with a small grimace, resulting in him attempting to block it out by the protection of your stomach, that is.

A brief sigh escapes you. Reaching behind you as best as you could without stirring the slumbering man on your lap awake, you clutch the velvet curtains in your free hand. With a careful pull towards you, the main source is blocked out. Remnants of the uncomfortable heat lingers on your skin, but you find yourself unbothered as you take in the subtle, sleepy smile now etched into his relaxed features.

Honestly, you’re surprised he allowed himself a respite such as this. You are more than accustomed to his vehement refusals, with him often insisting he has no need nor the time for even a moment’s rest when there is much to be done. It’s an obsession, almost, the way in which he hyper-focuses on even the most trivial of details. Not a single thing can be out of place; not a single thing can be anything less than perfection itself.

Sunday, in spite of his flawed methods and, in your humble opinion, horridly stubborn demeanour, is someone whom you hold in high regard. Behind his stern and almost rigid-like composure belies a selfless man who wishes for nothing more than the happiness and freedom of others. Behind a calm gaze akin to that of an omniscient being is a man who brushes off any and all concerns for his well-being, a tight-lipped smile and light tone doing little to distract you from the brief clench of his fists and subtle pause which stretches on a little too long to be considered a breather.

Again, in your honest and most humble opinion, he is wretchedly stubborn — that, or he simply doesn’t know how to rely on and confide in others, despite the many times he himself has been confided in.

You take him in once more, seizing this rare moment in which you can see him as he is wholeheartedly without all the layers and walls and barriers he meticulously has built up around him.

Should a time in which he is ready to relinquish the burdens he carries amidst his quiet solitude come, you will embrace all that he is with welcoming arms; even if it wholly consumes you.

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves. Some may find his care to be overbearing, but you find that it is not overbearing enough.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

[yourmomsawh0r3]

storm chasers

pairing: tyler owen’s x f! reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

theme: enemies to lovers

During a particularly intense storm chase, Y/N's equipment malfunctions, putting her in a dangerous position. Despite their rivalry, Tyler spots her struggling and makes a splitsecond decision to help. He navigates his stormchasing vehicle through treacherous conditions to reach her.

"What are you doing here, Owens?" Y/N shouts over the howling wind, a mix of surprise and relief in her voice. "I thought you'd be halfway to Kansas by now, chasing your precious tornado!"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he helps her into his vehicle. "Even I'm not heartless enough to leave a colleague in danger," he retorts, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Besides, someone needs to show you how real storm chasing is done."

As they speed away from the approaching tornado, the tension between them crackles like the lightning illuminating the sky. Y/N finds herself studying Tyler's determined profile, seeing him in a new light for the first time.

Y/N crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she watches Tyler navigate through the storm. "I didn't ask for your help, Owens," she says, her voice sharp but with a hint of vulnerability. "I had it under control."

Tyler scoffs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Right, because standing in the path of an EF3 tornado is the epitome of 'under control.' Face it, princess, you needed me."

Y/N's cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Don't call me princess," she snaps. "And I don't need anyone, especially not some adrenaline junkie with a God complex."

Despite the tension, Tyler can't help but admire Y/N's spirit. Her fiery attitude matches the storm raging outside, and he finds it oddly captivating.

"You know," Tyler says, a smirk playing on his lips, "for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me."

Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically. "Don't flatter yourself, Owens. The only thing I think about is how to prove I'm better than you at storm chasing."

As they continue their banter, the storm intensifies around them. Tyler's expert driving keeps them safe, but the close calls have them both on edge. In a particularly heartstopping moment, Y/N instinctively grabs Tyler's arm, her fingers digging into his skin.

Their eyes meet for a brief second, electricity crackling between them that has nothing to do with the lightning outside. Y/N quickly pulls her hand away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"I... um, thanks," she mumbles, looking anywhere but at Tyler. "For coming to get me, I mean. Even if I didn't need it."

Tyler's expression softens slightly. "Anytime, Y/N. We storm chasers have to stick together, right?"

As the tension in the vehicle shifts from hostility to something more complex, Y/N finds herself reevaluating her feelings towards her rival.

Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting between Tyler and the raging storm outside. The silence between them grows heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Finally, she breaks it with a sigh.

"Look, Owens," she begins, her voice softer than before, "I... I may have misjudged you. A little."

Tyler's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Is that your way of saying thank you?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push it. I'm trying to be nice here."

"Well, it's a start," Tyler chuckles, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road. "You're not so bad yourself, when you're not trying to outdo me at every turn."

Y/N feels a blush creeping up her neck. "I don't try to outdo you," she mutters, then adds with a smirk, "I just naturally excel."

Tyler laughs, a genuine sound that makes Y/N's heart skip a beat. "There's the sass I know and lo— uh, tolerate."

The almostslip hangs in the air between them, neither willing to acknowledge it. Y/N clears her throat, desperately searching for a change of subject.

"So, uh, where exactly are we headed?" she asks, peering out at the stormravaged landscape.

Tyler's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly. "There's a motel about 20 miles ahead. We'll hole up there until this storm passes."

Y/N nods, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the thought of being alone with Tyler in a motel room. She tells herself it's just the adrenaline from their close call with the tornado.

As they continue driving, the silence becomes more comfortable. Y/N finds herself sneaking glances at Tyler, seeing him in a new light. The determined set of his jaw, the confident way he handles the vehicle through the treacherous conditions, it's all suddenly very... attractive.

As the tension in the vehicle eases slightly, Y/N decides to make herself more comfortable. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she slowly lifts her feet, clad in wellworn cowboy boots, and props them up on Tyler's pristine dashboard.

Tyler's eyes widen in disbelief. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he exclaims, his voice a mix of annoyance and surprise.

Y/N smirks, wiggling her bootclad feet. "Getting comfortable. Got a problem with that, Owens?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he tries to focus on the road. "Knock it off, Y/N. This isn't your beatup truck. I just had this vehicle detailed last week."

"Aww, is the big bad storm chaser afraid of a little mud?" Y/N teases, but there's a hint of fondness in her voice that wasn't there before.

Tyler reaches over with one hand, trying to swat her feet off the dashboard while keeping his eyes on the treacherous road. "I'm serious, Y/N. Feet. Off. Now."

Their playful struggle continues for a moment, the air between them charged with a new kind of energy. Y/N finds herself enjoying this lighter side of their usual banter, and Tyler can't help but appreciate her playful defiance.

As the storm chaser vehicle comes to a complete stop, Y/N's eyes light up with excitement. Without warning, she flings open the door and leaps out, camera in hand.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing?" Tyler shouts, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind.

But Y/N is already sprinting towards the storm, her hair whipping wildly around her face. She raises her camera, desperate to capture the perfect shot of the swirling vortex.

Tyler curses under his breath and jumps out after her. "Are you insane? Get back here!" he yells, but Y/N ignores him, lost in her pursuit of the perfect storm footage.

In a burst of speed, Tyler reaches her. Without hesitation, he throws her over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp from Y/N.

"Put me down, Owens!" she protests, but Tyler's grip is firm as he carries her to a nearby sturdy post.

Setting her down, he quickly ties a safety rope around both of them, securing them to the post. Y/N struggles against him, but Tyler's face is a mask of anger and concern.

"What part of 'dangerous storm' don't you understand?" he growls, his face inches from hers. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Y/N glares at Tyler, her chest heaving with adrenaline and frustration. "I had it under control! This is the shot of a lifetime, Owens. You of all people should understand that!"

Tyler's grip on her arms tightens, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else – fear? "No shot is worth your life, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea what it would do to m— to the storm chasing community if something happened to you?"

The wind howls around them, tugging at their clothes and hair. Y/N's anger begins to fade as she realizes the genuine concern in Tyler's voice. She looks up at him, really seeing him for the first time. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and his eyes... they're filled with an emotion she's never seen before.

"I... I'm sorry," Y/N says softly, her voice nearly lost in the storm. "I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't," Tyler cuts her off, but his tone has softened slightly. "You never do when it comes to chasing the perfect storm. It's what makes you brilliant, and also incredibly frustrating."

Y/N can't help but smile at that. "Sounds like someone I know," she teases, nudging him gently.

Tyler's lips quirk up in a reluctant smile. "Yeah, well, maybe we're more alike than we thought."

As they stand there, tied to the post with the storm raging around them, something shifts between Y/N and Tyler. The rivalry that has defined their relationship for so long seems to melt away, replaced by a new understanding – and perhaps something more.

As the storm continues to rage around them, Tyler's eyes soften, his gaze lingering on Y/N's face. The wind whips her hair wildly, and he finds himself reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"Y/N," he says, his voice barely audible over the howling wind, "I... I can't lose you. Not to a storm, not to anything."

Y/N's breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening at the intensity in Tyler's voice. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a deafening crack of thunder startles them both.

Tyler instinctively pulls Y/N closer, his arms wrapping protectively around her. In that moment, pressed against his chest, Y/N realizes that the rivalry between them has been masking something far more powerful.

The ride home is tense, filled with an awkward silence as Y/N and Tyler sit in their soaking wet clothes. The only sounds are the squelch of their damp attire and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. When they finally arrive at Y/N's house, Tyler pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine.

"Goodnight," he says curtly, not meeting her eyes.

Y/N stares at him incredulously. "That's it? Goodnight? Tyler, what was all that about back there?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he grips the steering wheel tightly. "I don't want to talk about it," he mutters, his voice low and strained.

Frustrated and confused, Y/N gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She starts walking towards her house, her wet boots squelching with each step. Tyler watches her go, conflict evident on his face.

Suddenly, as if pulled by an invisible force, Tyler jumps out of the car and rushes after her. He catches up just as she reaches her front door.

"Y/N, wait!" he calls out.

She turns, surprise etched on her features. Before she can say anything, Tyler closes the distance between them. His hands cup her face, fingers tangling in her damp hair, and he crashes his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Y/N freezes for a moment, shocked by Tyler's sudden action. Then, as if a dam has broken, she melts into the kiss, her hands gripping his soaked shirt. The rain continues to fall around them, but neither seems to notice.

When they finally break apart, both breathless, Tyler rests his forehead against Y/N's. His eyes, usually filled with competitive fire, now shine with vulnerability and warmth.

"That's what it was about," he whispers, his voice husky. "I've been fighting this for so long, Y/N. Fighting us. But I can't anymore. Not after today."

Y/N's heart races, her mind reeling from the intensity of the moment. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a loud crack of thunder makes them both jump.

The sudden thunder reminds them of their rainsoaked state. Y/N shivers slightly, her wet clothes clinging to her skin. Tyler notices and gently cups her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

"We should get inside," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're freezing."

Y/N nods, fumbling with her keys as she unlocks the door. As they step inside, the tension between them crackles like the lightning outside. Y/N turns to face Tyler, her heart pounding.

"Tyler, I..." she starts, but words fail her. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.

Tyler catches her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "I know," he says softly. "We've wasted so much time, haven't we?"

Their eyes lock, years of rivalry and unspoken attraction culminating in this moment. Without another word, Y/N pulls Tyler close, their lips meeting in another passionate kiss. As the storm rages outside, they lose themselves in each other, finally giving in to the feelings they've denied for so long.

Tyler's hands roam Y/N's body, his fingers tracing the curves hidden beneath her damp clothes. Y/N gasps as he presses her against the wall, his lips trailing hot kisses down her neck.

"God, Y/N," Tyler groans, his voice husky with desire. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?"

Y/N's response is cut off by a moan as Tyler's hand slips under her shirt, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. She tugs at his wet tshirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

"Off," she demands breathlessly. "Take it off, Tyler."

Tyler obliges, pulling back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Y/N's eyes rake over his toned chest, her hands exploring the muscles she's admired from afar for so long.

Their lips crash together again, the kiss deep and hungry. Y/N's legs wrap around Tyler's waist as he lifts her, carrying her towards the bedroom. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other's lips, the tension of years finally breaking.

As they fall onto the bed, clothes are shed hastily, hands exploring newly exposed skin. The storm outside fades into background noise, drowned out by their gasps and moans.

Tyler hovers over Y/N, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Y/N pulls him closer, her nails raking down his back. "I've never been more sure of anything," she breathes.

Tyler's eyes light up with a mischievous glint. He reaches for his bag, pulling out an old Polaroid camera. "You know," he says, his voice low and seductive, "I've always wanted to capture you in a different kind of storm."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and excitement dancing in her eyes. "Oh? And what kind of storm would that be, Owens?"

Tyler's gaze travels appreciatively over Y/N's body. "The kind that involves you, some lacy lingerie, and this camera. What do you say, storm chaser? Up for a different kind of thrill?"

The tension in the room shifts, electric with anticipation. Y/N bites her lip, considering the offer. The idea of Tyler capturing her most intimate moments sends a shiver down her spine.

Y/N's lips curve into a seductive smile as she sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal her bare shoulders. "Well, well, Owens. I didn't take you for the artistic type," she purrs, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But if you think you can handle it, I'm game."

Tyler's breath catches as Y/N saunters towards her dresser, her hips swaying enticingly. She rummages through a drawer, pulling out a delicate, lacy black lingerie set. "How's this for your little photoshoot?" she asks, dangling the garments from her finger.

"Perfect," Tyler manages, his voice husky with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as Y/N slips into the lingerie, the sheer fabric clinging to her curves.

Y/N strikes a pose, one hand on her hip, the other running through her tousled hair. "Ready when you are, storm chaser," she teases.

Tyler raises the camera, his hands slightly shaky with excitement. "Show me what you've got, Y/N," he says, a grin spreading across his face.

The room fills with the soft whirring and clicking of the Polaroid camera as Tyler captures Y/N's alluring poses. Each flash illuminates her curves, accentuated by the delicate lace lingerie. Y/N's confidence grows with each shot, her poses becoming bolder and more seductive.

"Damn, Y/N," Tyler breathes, lowering the camera for a moment. His eyes roam appreciatively over her body. "You're even more stunning than I imagined."

Y/N smirks, sauntering towards him. "Oh? So you've imagined this before, have you?" she teases, her fingers trailing down his chest.

Tyler swallows hard, his voice husky as he admits, "More times than I care to count."

As the Polaroids develop, Tyler carefully selects the most captivating one. With a mischievous grin, he slips it into his wallet. "Something to remember this night by," he murmurs, pulling Y/N close for a passionate kiss.

Y/N breaks the kiss, her eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and playfulness. She gently pushes Tyler onto the bed, straddling him as she reaches for the Polaroid camera. "My turn," she purrs, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscular chest.

Tyler's breath hitches, his hands settling on Y/N's hips. "What did you have in mind?" he asks, voice rough with anticipation.

Y/N grins mischievously, raising the camera. "Let's just say I want my own little memento of the great Tyler Owens," she teases, snapping a photo of his flushed face and tousled hair.

The air between them crackles with tension as Y/N continues to capture intimate moments, the roles now reversed. Tyler finds himself both nervous and thrilled under her intense gaze.

As Y/N lowers the camera, her eyes lock with Tyler's. The playful atmosphere shifts, charged with an electric intensity. She sets the camera aside, her hands splaying across Tyler's chest.

"You know," she murmurs, leaning in close, "I never thought I'd say this, but you're not half bad, Owens."

Tyler's lips quirk into a smirk, his hands sliding up Y/N's thighs. "Just not half bad? I'm hurt, princess."

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push your luck," she warns, but her voice is breathy, betraying her arousal.

Tyler suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N to the bed. His eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of her beneath him, still clad in the lacy lingerie.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he growls, his lips ghosting along her jaw.

Y/N arches into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. "The feeling's mutual," she gasps, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, leaving a path of fiery kisses. His hands roam her body, fingertips tracing the delicate lace of her lingerie. Y/N arches into his touch, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Tyler," she moans, her nails raking down his back. The sound of his name on her lips sends a shiver through him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they meet hers. "God, Y/N," he breathes, "you're incredible."

Y/N smirks, her confidence growing. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. "Show me just how incredible you think I am," she challenges, her voice husky with want.

Tyler grins, accepting her challenge with enthusiasm. His hands slide under the lacy fabric, eager to explore every inch of her.

Y/N's breath hitches as Tyler's skilled hands explore her body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he caresses. She arches into him, craving more contact.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice breathy with desire. "Don't tease me."

A wicked grin spreads across Tyler's face as he looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "But teasing is half the fun, princess," he murmurs, his fingers tracing tantalizingly slow patterns on her skin.

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, a mix of arousal and annoyance flashing in her gaze. "I told you not to call me that," she growls, suddenly flipping their positions so she's straddling him.

Tyler's eyes widen in surprise, then darken with appreciation as he takes in the sight of Y/N above him, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed. "Feisty," he comments, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "I like it."

Y/N leans down, her lips barely brushing against his as she whispers, "You haven't seen anything yet, Owens."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N begins to rock her hips slowly against Tyler's, eliciting a low groan from him. Her fingers trace the contours of his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin.

"You think you can handle me, Owens?" she purrs, her voice husky with desire.

Tyler's hands grip her waist tighter, his eyes locked on hers. "Bring it on, storm chaser," he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/N leans down, her lips ghosting along his jaw. "Remember," she whispers, her breath hot against his ear, "I always get what I want."

As the tension between them builds, the storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the electricity crackling between their bodies.

Y/N's movements become more passionate as she rides Tyler, her body undulating in a sensual rhythm. Her lips find his neck, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along his skin. Tyler groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter as the sensation sends shivers down his spine.

"God, Y/N," he gasps, tilting his head to give her better access.

Y/N smirks against his skin, her tongue darting out to taste him. She peppers kisses all over his neck and jawline, occasionally nipping gently. The combination of her movements and her lips on his skin drives Tyler wild.

His arousal intensifies, and he suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N beneath him. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at her.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

The air around them is thick with the scent of desire a heady mix of Y/N's light floral perfume and Tyler's musky cologne with notes of amber. As Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, he breathes in her intoxicating scent, a mix of rain from their earlier adventure and something uniquely her.

Y/N arches into Tyler, her skin tingling wherever he touches. His hands roam her body, exploring every curve and dip. When his lips finally meet hers again, the taste is intoxicating a hint of sweetness mixed with the saltiness of sweat.

"You taste amazing," Tyler murmurs against her lips, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N responds by deepening the kiss, her tongue dancing with his as she savors his taste a mix of mint and something distinctly masculine. Her hands explore his broad shoulders and muscular back, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

As their passion builds, every touch, every taste, every scent becomes more intense. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by the occasional rumble of distant thunder.

Tyler's hands glide down Y/N's sides, tracing the curve of her waist and hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Y/N's breath catches as his fingers dance along the lace edge of her lingerie.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice thick with desire. Her nails dig into his shoulders, urging him closer.

He responds by pressing his hips against hers, the friction eliciting a moan from both of them. The scent of their arousal mingles in the air, heightening their senses.

Y/N's lips find Tyler's neck again, leaving a trail of hot, openmouthed kisses. She breathes in his scent a intoxicating mix of amber, cologne, and the earthy smell of rain still clinging to his skin.

"God, Y/N," Tyler growls, his voice low and husky. "You're driving me wild."

Y/N's fingers tangle in Tyler's hair, pulling him closer as she arches into him. The lace of her lingerie creates a tantalizing friction against their heated skin. Tyler's hand slides down to her thigh, hitching her leg up around his waist.

"Tyler," Y/N moans, her voice breathy with desire. "I need you. Now."

Tyler's eyes lock with hers, dark with passion. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky and strained with restraint.

Y/N responds by pulling him into a searing kiss, her body pressing urgently against his. The last vestiges of their rivalry melt away, replaced by an allconsuming need for each other.

As they finally join, the storm outside seems to crescendo, mirroring the intensity of their passion. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by whispered endearments and gasps of ecstasy.

Their bodies move together in a passionate rhythm, the intensity building with each passing moment. Y/N's nails rake down Tyler's back as she loses herself in the sensation. Tyler buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"God, Y/N," he groans, his voice muffled against her skin. "You feel amazing."

Y/N can only respond with a breathy moan, her mind clouded with pleasure. The storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing and the creaking of the bed.

As they approach their peak, Tyler lifts his head to look into Y/N's eyes. The connection between them is electric, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something neither of them is ready to name yet.

"Tyler," Y/N gasps, her body trembling on the edge of release. "I'm so close..."

Tyler's movements become more urgent, driven by Y/N's breathless plea. He captures her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as he pushes her closer to the edge. Y/N's body arches beneath him, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Let go, Y/N," Tyler whispers against her ear, his voice rough with desire. "I've got you."

With a cry of ecstasy, Y/N tumbles over the edge, her body shuddering with waves of pleasure. The intensity of her release triggers Tyler's own, and he groans deeply as he follows her into bliss.

As they come down from their high, Tyler collapses beside Y/N, pulling her close. Their bodies are slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem. For a moment, they lie in silence, basking in the afterglow.

Y/N turns her head to look at Tyler, a mix of satisfaction and wonder in her eyes. "That was..." she trails off, unable to find the right words.

Tyler grins, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Yeah," he agrees, "it was."

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by their gradually steadying breaths. Y/N's fingers trace lazy patterns on Tyler's chest, her mind still hazy from their passionate encounter. Tyler's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer.

"You know," Y/N murmurs, her voice still slightly breathless, "I never thought I'd end up here with you, of all people."

Tyler chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Life's full of surprises, isn't it?" he replies, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. "Especially in our line of work."

Y/N props herself up on an elbow, looking down at Tyler with a mixture of curiosity and lingering desire. "Speaking of work," she says, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what do you say we make the most of this storm?"

Tyler's eyebrow quirks up, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What did you have in mind, storm chaser?"

Tyler's expression softens as he gazes at Y/N, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "You know," he begins, his voice low and tender, "I've got a confession to make."

Y/N tilts her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh? What's that, Owens?"

Tyler takes a deep breath, his thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. "I've been in love with you since we were kids," he admits, his voice filled with emotion. "I love the way you furrow your eyebrows and pace when you're confused. I love how you bite your lip when you're anxious. Even those days when your hair is all crazy especially those days."

Y/N's eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise. Tyler continues, his words tumbling out faster now. "I know we're on different teams, but baby, I notice everything about you. I fucking love you, Y/N. I always have."

The room falls silent as Y/N processes his words, her heart racing. After what feels like an eternity, a smile breaks across her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tyler," she whispers, "I love you too. I think I always have."

Tyler pulls her close, capturing her lips in a kiss that's both tender and passionate. As they break apart, both breathless and grinning, the storm outside begins to calm, mirroring the peace that's settled between them. Their rivalry has transformed into something beautiful, something neither of them expected but both now cherish.

[fratttymatty]

You've Been Chosen

Nate and Elijah had been inseparable for years. From the day they'd met at the local library, both young, quiet, and awkward in their own ways, to the years that followed when they’d discovered not only a shared love for literature but an even deeper connection — one they hadn't realized they were capable of forming. Their friendship blossomed into something more: quiet kisses in the park, whispered confessions late at night. It was a bond they knew was unbreakable.

They were happy, in love, and understood each other in ways no one else did. Their world was peaceful, and they thought they could weather anything life threw at them — until one summer day when everything changed.

The change began innocuously enough. It started with a strange email, sent from an address they didn't recognize. The subject line simply read: "You’ve been chosen." It was vague, with cryptic language and strange, almost otherworldly promises of a new life — a better one, it said, filled with strength, confidence, and success. Curious, Elijah opened it up.

But there was something… off about it. The email didn’t feel like a scam, not like the usual spam messages they received. It felt personal.

He glanced at Nate, a playful smirk crossing his lips. "Hey, Nate. I think we won the lottery. Want to see what they’re offering us?"

Nate didn’t respond at first, but when Elijah read it aloud, he raised an eyebrow. "That’s… weird. I don’t know. What if it’s some sort of cult or, like, a scam?"

"Nah, man," Elijah laughed. "It’s probably just some marketing gimmick. Let’s see what happens."

Neither of them realized how wrong they were until they found themselves standing together, one week later, in a sleek, modern room at the address provided in the email.

It was a small, almost sterile room with dark metal walls and a single chair in the center. They had entered together, but as soon as the door shut behind them, it locked with a loud click, and the lights began to flicker. Panic surged in both their chests.

Before they could process what was happening, a smooth voice, deep and calm, echoed from the walls.

"You two have been selected for a transformation. Prepare yourselves. The process begins now."

The words were final, and though they both tried to resist, to run, their bodies refused to move as something… shifted.

Nate felt a strange sensation spread through his body. At first, it was subtle—his hands began to tingle, then his arms, his chest, his legs. A rush of heat followed, making him feel like he was burning from the inside out. He looked at Elijah, but the sight of his boyfriend seemed distant, blurry, as though they were being separated by an impenetrable glass wall.

Elijah's breath hitched, his heart racing. He reached for Nate but felt his body contorting against his will. His muscles grew tight, harder, firmer. His once-thin frame began to bulk up with unnatural speed. His face started to change too: his jawline squared, his nose became more pronounced, his lips thinner. His eyes, once full of quiet warmth, now had a piercing, competitive gleam.

Nate could feel his body doing the same. His slender build was replaced by thick, muscular arms and broad shoulders. His skin darkened slightly, and his eyes shifted from a soft brown to a sharper blue, the deep love and empathy in them turning into something more detached, more predatory. His facial features became more angular, harder, like a statue chiselled to perfection.

As the transformation progressed, a strange sensation tugged at the roots of Nate’s hair. He reached up instinctively to touch it, his fingers trembling as a sharp, tingling pressure ran through his scalp. It was as if something deep inside his hair follicles was being pulled and restructured.

At first, his hair darkened, shifting from its natural brown to a deep, rich shade of dark brown, almost black under the bright, artificial lights of the room. The soft waves that had once framed his face, so familiar and comforting, were now growing thick and dense, the texture becoming more coarse. His scalp tingled as the strands grew shorter—cutting down to a cropped, tousled style that gave off a carefree, athletic edge. The waves that had once been loose and soft were now effortlessly styled, falling into place as though the perfect amount of tousled mess was intentionally crafted.

The hair wasn’t just shorter—it was sharper. His bangs, which had once softly brushed against his forehead, now lifted in an effortlessly messy yet purposeful way, as if styled by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. The way it framed his face accentuated the new, strong lines of his jaw, his angular cheekbones, and his newly defined, masculine features.

Nate—no, Jason—ran a hand through it, feeling the textured strands shift beneath his fingers, and he couldn't help but admire the way it looked. His hair now had volume, thick and strong, and he could tell that it would always look perfect—effortlessly sexy and rugged, the kind of hair that turned heads without even trying.

Beside him, Elijah’s transformation was no less intense. Elijah had always worn his hair curly, an unruly mass of dark tendrils that framed his face in a way that spoke of gentle chaos. But now, as the change took over him, his curls unraveled, twisting and straightening until they, too, darkened to a similar shade of deep brown. The once-wild curls became more controlled, shorter, but the same tousled, perfectly disheveled look that Jason’s hair now sported fell into place on Elijah’s head.

His hair was thick, but now it had that same rugged charm—messy, but in a way that suggested it had been styled by the hands of someone who knew how to pull off that effortless, “I woke up like this” look. The hair still had volume, but it was shorter and more structured, the kind of style that fit perfectly with his broad new shoulders and athletic frame. His hair seemed to have been designed to match his new, muscular persona: bold, attractive, and undeniably masculine.

As Jason and Tyler—formerly Nate and Elijah—stood together, they both reached up to feel their hair, marveling at the way it framed their faces now. It was so different from before—so right. The tousled texture suited them in ways they hadn’t even known they needed.

Jason ran his fingers through his dark, tousled locks, feeling the confidence surge within him again, that new, sharp, athletic swagger filling him as the weight of the transformation settled deeper within. He met Tyler’s gaze, his eyes full of an intense, competitive fire.

“Dude,” Jason said, grinning, “we look good.”

Tyler smiled back, his own tousled dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he shook his head. “We look unstoppable,” he said.

And with that, the two of them—no longer Nate and Elijah—stepped out into their new lives, their hair styled to perfection, their bodies transformed into something strong, athletic, and undeniably right for their new roles. The world felt like it was theirs for the taking.

The transformation wasn’t just physical. Their minds began to change too. Memories of books and poetry — the things that had once meant so much to them — began to fade away, replaced by thoughts of weights, gym routines, and the thrill of competition. They felt a strange sense of pride surge within them as their new identities took root.

For the first time in their lives, both Elijah and Nate felt strong, undeniably powerful. But it was an overwhelming, alien feeling. It felt right in ways they couldn’t explain, and the weight of it nearly crushed them as their old selves—soft, introspective, sensitive—began to feel like a distant dream.

The voice spoke again, like a final verdict.

"You are no longer who you were. You are now Jason and Tyler — young, athletic, confident men. Your previous lives no longer matter. You are made for greatness. You will no longer seek love in the way you once did. The bonds you had are severed."

Jason—Nate, now no longer holding onto his past—felt a surge of pride. He looked at Tyler—Elijah—and for the first time in what felt like forever, the attraction was... different. His mind registered his boyfriend, but there was something else. Something about the new version of Tyler made him feel... competitive. Desirable in a different way. He wasn’t sure how to reconcile it. He just knew it felt right. The confusion was buried beneath layers of muscle, of physicality, of instinct.

Tyler—Elijah—didn’t resist either. He looked at Jason, his new, broad chest puffing out as a rush of dopamine flooded his mind. He smiled, feeling the weight of his new body and the confidence that came with it. This new life, as a jock, a bro, was exhilarating.

The door opened, and they were led out, no longer the quiet, tender souls they had been, but two young men with a new sense of purpose. Their old relationship—soft, tender, intellectual—was gone. Their bond now, their connection, was forged in shared strength, in the thrill of physical dominance, in the unspoken power that surged through their veins.

Jason, with his broad, muscular shoulders and chiseled abs, nudged Tyler with a grin. “Yo, let’s hit the gym. We’ve got work to do.”

Tyler, now as tall and athletic as Jason, returned the smile. “Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

They were no longer Nate and Elijah. They were Jason and Tyler, and they didn’t want to go back. In this new life, they were strong. They were perfect. And for the first time, they felt like they had found where they truly belonged.

As they walked into the bright sunlight, muscles flexing beneath their tight gym shirts, they couldn’t help but laugh. It felt so good. So right.

The past was forgotten.

And their future—together—was unstoppable.

As Jason and Tyler left the strange, metallic room, the world outside seemed brighter, louder, and somehow better. Their bodies felt different—stronger, more confident. And something deep within their minds had shifted too. The connection they once shared, tender and intimate, now felt distant. The quiet bond of their past lives seemed like a distant memory. They weren’t the same people anymore.

It was hard to explain, but as the minutes passed, it became clearer: they weren’t just different in appearance. They were changed, in the deepest parts of them. The world around them—once a place full of quiet contemplation and hidden desires—was now something else. Something simple. Something new. They felt a surge of straight masculinity rushing through them, their minds rewiring to focus on new things: sports, strength, competition. And, of course, women.

Jason turned to Tyler, his voice suddenly rough and confident. "Dude, we gotta hit the gym. Get those gains. We can totally crush it at the football tryouts next week."

Tyler, standing tall beside him with that signature, broad-chested swagger, grinned. "Totes, man. I’m ready to dominate. The ladies are gonna be all over us."

For the first time, Jason felt the thrill of wanting women in the way Tyler spoke of. He wasn’t looking at Tyler the same way anymore. He was looking at him as a bro, someone to team up with. That old, deep feeling of love for each other had been buried beneath this new, primal sense of camaraderie.

And sure enough, not long after, their transformation was complete in every way. The world they walked into was different, and it embraced them. They both began to notice the women around them, their new bodies and newfound swagger immediately attracting attention. In their minds, they were no longer Nate and Elijah. They were Jason and Tyler, and they were ready to conquer everything—starting with the opposite sex.

It didn't take long before they met the two girls who would change their lives: Hailey and Kelsey.

They were everything Jason and Tyler had never noticed before. Blonde, bubbly, and a little bit ditzy, they wore skintight leggings and crop tops that barely covered their chests, their eyes bright with naive excitement. Hailey, with her long, bleached blonde hair and impossibly tan skin, smiled at Jason and Tyler like they were her ticket to something new and exciting.

"Oh my God, you guys are, like, so cute," Hailey said, flipping her hair dramatically as she approached them, her voice thick with that slightly high-pitched, breathy tone that spoke of a lack of concern for anything outside her immediate world. She blinked a few times, taking in their chiseled, athletic builds, and giggled. "Totes, like, you guys look like such jocks. Are you into, like, football or something? My ex totally played football."

Jason, now fully embracing his new identity, grinned at her, his mind instantly shifting into alpha male mode. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and gave her a once-over, appreciating the way her curves filled out the tight, pink tank top she wore. "Yeah, babe. Football’s our thing. We're on the varsity team," he said with a cocky smirk, leaning back slightly to show off his chest.

Kelsey, standing next to Hailey, took one look at Tyler and squealed, practically bouncing up and down. "Oh my God, you’re like, so hot!" she gushed, her wide blue eyes scanning him with clear admiration. "I just love a guy with abs, y'know?" She laughed, looking a little too excited for Jason’s taste but in a way that was undeniably flattering. "Like, you're, like, totally the type of guy I could, like, see myself with! Do you, like, work out a lot or whatever?"

Tyler couldn’t help but smirk, flexing his arm slightly, his muscles popping in his tight gym shirt. He hadn’t worked out this much in his life, but he could see that it was paying off. "Oh, you know," he said with an air of casual arrogance, his deep voice now a clear reflection of his transformation. "I’m at the gym, like, every day. Gotta keep the body tight for the ladies."

Hailey giggled at that, nodding enthusiastically. "Omg, yes, totes! I love when guys are, like, super fit and stuff. It’s, like, so hot." She tilted her head and pouted, giving Jason a flirty smile. "Do you, like, want to go out sometime? You know, like, maybe grab a smoothie or whatever?"

Jason felt the surge of masculinity flow through him, the confidence making him feel unstoppable. A smirk tugged at his lips. "Yeah, sounds good," he said casually, already picturing the kind of date they would have—a simple, straight-forward affair with Hailey, where his new identity would be put to the test.

As the four of them stood there, chatting about workouts and the latest school gossip, the feeling of the old Nate and Elijah—their quiet, intellectual selves—seemed more and more like a distant, meaningless memory. They couldn’t even remember the last time they'd shared a moment of vulnerability or tenderness. In fact, the more they spoke to Hailey and Kelsey, the more they realized how little they missed that past life.

Their conversations now revolved around flexing muscles, sharing workout tips, and planning group outings. Hailey would giggle and run her fingers through her hair, occasionally tossing out phrases like, "Oh my God, like, totes!" while Kelsey would swoon over Tyler's abs, telling him how she "just loved a guy who could throw a football."

Jason, now fully in sync with his new identity, couldn’t help but laugh at how different everything felt. It wasn’t that he missed who he was before—it was that he didn’t even want to be Nate anymore. He wasn’t looking for poetry or deep conversation anymore. He was looking for the next adrenaline rush, the next win on the field, the next perfect girl to date.

And with Hailey, and with Kelsey, the world felt right. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders confidently, pulling her closer, feeling the perfect balance of masculinity and attraction.

Tyler did the same with Kelsey, his grin wide, his posture a perfect reflection of a new life.

"We’re gonna crush it this season, bro," Jason said to Tyler, his voice now heavy with the satisfaction of their transformation.

"Yeah, man," Tyler agreed, his voice thick with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. "With these girls by our side, nothing can stop us."

In this new life, as Jason and Tyler walked away with Hailey and Kelsey, the past seemed like nothing more than a fading dream. The transformation was complete. There was no room for doubts, no room for second thoughts. They were jocks now, strong, straight, and fully entrenched in the world they had been designed for.

And as they left behind the old versions of themselves, they couldn’t help but think, with a satisfied smile: This is it. This is who we’re meant to be.

[nonuniverse-tarot]

How Does Your Person View You?

This reading is the subjective point of view from your person. It might be or might not be true.

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

Pile 1:

You're always on the move and not very emotional. You go and get what you want and aren't afraid to fight for it. You defend your point of view/ believes , but you don't go out of your way to start conflicts. If you're being attacked, then obviously you'll defend yourself.

They see you're up in your head a lot. Very dreamy, imaginative, full of ambition. A little stubborn at times, but with reason. To them, you're standing on stable ground and have valid reasons to be stubborn.

They see you as a knowledgeable person and that you have so many opportunities to succeed in whatever you put your energy in (however they view success).

They don't see you as an emotional person because you haven't really let them see that part of you. When things are getting too personal, you might change the topic and revert back to the composed you.

They admire you. They see you so high up and that you are capable of achieving anything and everything. For most of you, your person has seen you evolve into this 'new' you. They want to know you better, including your emotional side.

Songs: More Than A Friend - girli | Washing Machine Heart (Speed) - Mitski | Two - Sleeping At Last

Pile 2:

An old soul. You're not new in this world let alone, in this universe. They feel like you've gone through so much, but that you've learned from that and continued your path. You're not living in the past. You reflect a lot, but they see you applying what you have learned, into the present.

They think you're a bit lonely, even misunderstood, for some of you. You're so in tune with nature/universe/spirit - what that might look like for your person. You know what you're feeling, why you're feeling it, and what you'll do about it. They see you as a calm collected person.

There's this fear of getting close to you because they don't feel that they're at your level. They view you as knowledgeable in regards to spiritual topics and your person thinks they aren't so spiritual. They are open to it, but there's this irrational fear of you looking down on them for not knowing much.

Regardless of gender, they view you as a masculine person. You make decisions and act upon them. They're amazed by you and they think that you don't think very highly of them. You might have a bit of a resting bitch face without knowing.

Songs: She Likes A Boy - Nxdia | Miss You - Louis Tomlinson | Magia Blanca - Hermanos Carrion

Pile 3:

You limit yourself a lot but they also see you so free, flowing, and in tune with yourself, but for some reason, you limit yourself so much. Your person is frustrated. They don't know what they can do to help you realize this.

"Why do they stop themselves so much? Why do they hold themselves back so much? Why do they hide so much? Why aren't they showing their authentic self, their talents, their light to the world?"

From their point of view, there's nothing holding you back from doing anything. The Devil and 10 of Swords are in reverse - meaning you are free to do what you wish, but you think so low of yourself for a reason they don't understand or see, causing all those opportunities and freedom from happening.

It seems that you're open and trust your person, that's why they see all these amazing things about you. They have strong feelings towards you, but they feel that if they let you know, you'll reject them because of your poor self-esteem.

You think you're the worst being in the world, but they don't understand why you would think such a thing. They see you as the brightest light. The brightest of them all.

"Why are they looking for a devil that isn't there?"

Songs: I Really F**ked It Up - girli | Chance With You - mehiro | Drinking With Cupid - VOILÀ

~*~*~*~

I hope you liked the reading! Thank you for being here!

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 2

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why.

A/N: This chapter is mainly for @brandylyn because it means so much to me that she wants to read a simple story about a little yearning fox.

PART 1

For the past many mornings Fink had woken to an empty hut, the little heap of leaves near the door where Farrah preferred to sleep flattened and empty. As much as he knew he could just track her by scent, it wasn’t necessary anymore. He knew where she was.

And his heart sank a little. 

He’d been hoping for the day when he’d wake to find her still sleeping, at peace, or the night where she’d fall asleep before him, comfortable in her new home. But her ears always remained alert, feigning sleep into the night, and she was gone by first light.

Not that she wouldn’t come back to join him for meals or to play fast-as-the-wind with the possum kids. But he supposed she went to the cove in the morning for the same reason she slept near the door.

Hoping to catch a whiff of home.

There’d been two full moons since Farrah came to the island and she adjusted fast to their strange way of life. She wasn’t as hard driven by hunger as some of the other animals and gained from their talks that was because food had been more scarce where she was from and she was patient when it came to waiting for meals. Fish and shellfish had already been a big part of her diet. 

So she must have come from another island…but Fink couldn’t be sure. Anytime he’d ask more about it, she’d change the subject or go quiet. And she was very very good at being quiet. Probably had to learn that with fur like hers. It’s a wonder she made it to maturity without proper camouflage. Silence and speed would be her only options.

Except when she laughed. She laughed loud and high, almost a cry when she was really going. Farrah was easy to amuse and he made sure to do so whenever he had the chance. He wanted to see her happy and settled here. With him.

And he just liked to hear her laugh. Nobody laughed at his jokes like she did.

“That is the look of a lovelorn fox,” Paddler dryly declared one day, turning away to scrape away at a massive trunk with his crooked incisors. Fink had just cracked a joke at a squirrel’s expense–and not a clever one either, something about the size of nuts–and Farrah had laughed before bounding off after a butterfly. The beaver’s remark made Fink realize that he was wearing a dopey grin and he shook it off, but not before Paddler added, “Be direct. Build her a dam to show how you feel.”

“I’m not going to give her a dam.”

“But I’m telling you, fine fellow. We may be swimming among the trees as a pike in the waters of the river, yet the ladies still love a good bit of worked wood. You have that home–a good design, said because, as you will remember it is mine–but a little riverside palace of her own? Eh? What a treat.”

Fink rolled his eyes, playing cavalier. “It’s not like that. We’re–” over in the near clearing, Farrah’s fur sparkled white in the sinking sun, her head tilting side to side as she watched two butterflies dancing, trying to pick up on their whispers, quiet and still….and beautiful. “--friends.”

“Ha!” Paddler choked on a laugh. “You fool no one, sir. Just give her a treasure and be done with it. I’m telling you a dam always does the job, but I suppose you must do as your ilk do.” 

“Is that why there's no Mrs. Paddler?”

“Oh ho! I have had my salacious share of affairs, I assure you. My dams are well-given and wide spread. I am focusing on other projects at the moment,” he boasted with a grand gesture towards his gnarled tree, and turned back to his gnawing.

But Fink hadn’t let the beaver’s advice sift completely to the background and after a particularly good day of digging holes for grubs and laying in the sun-warmed grass, it was Farrah herself that completed the thought.

“Okay. You get to take one feature from any other animal and add it to your own. What are you stealing?” Fink rolled on his back, belly to the sun, black paws bent and hanging lazily.

“Uhhhhh,” she sighed. “Mayyyyybe racoon paws?”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ugh. Really? You’d lose your ability to run fast.”

“Yeah, but where am I gonna run here?” she smiled, teasing, and his tail twitched hopefully. “And I bet they’re useful for arranging bedding and…holding fish…and…oh! I bet urchins would be so much easier to crack open, no more getting spines in my jowls…”

“Wait!” He flipped to his stomach then, his claws digging in the dirt, eager to run, eager to share the idea that had just come to him, ready to bound and yip but controlling himself–she was skittish if he was too bouncy–”You like urchins??”

“Of course. Do they live here? I’ve never found any.”

“Come on. I gotta show you something,” and he took off running with the breeze at his back, which carried the information that she was following and keeping up with him as he made his way through the trees and down the sloping landscape to the shore. 

Running straight for the goose flats, he turned abruptly at the shoreline and went crashing though some bushes until they came to a bluff wall. But instead of coming to a halt, Fink took a leap, knowing which ledges were wide enough to hold him, and which led out to the sea. From there, he was able to round the corner to a small cove. With the tide out, it was a completely isolated beach, not even a sand bird or seagull.

“Welcome to the northern most point of the island,” he explained with a sweep of the paw. “When I don’t wanna dig clams to a soundtrack of honks, I come out here. The tide leaves little treats too. Cockles, a dead fish, sometimes an eel. Sometimes though–” he scanned the stretch of beach, his heart skipping at the sight of a dark little blob, “--there! Urchin!”

Dashing over, he sniffed at it and, finding it still fresh, held it down with one paw and expertly cracked its underside open with his teeth. Then he sat back high and proper, very proud of himself, and offered the feast to her with a flourish. “Madame.” Surely this would be it. This cove was his little secret, his treasure to give her. And serving up delicacies with humor? He just wanted to make her smile…

But Farrah had stopped nearby, distracted, her strange eyes–one light, one dark–searching the sea, her nose activated, taking in the air.

“Uh…Farrah?” Snapping to, she closed the distance, and Fink cocked his head. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, of course. I just caught a whiff of–” she fought off a glance to the sea. “It doesn’t matter. Oh wow! The urchins are huge here!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “It’s a specialty here. You’re gonna love the recipe. This one’s for you. Dig in.” As she did, Fink turned fully toward the water and scanned the horizon, trying to see what had caught her attention but found no scents or sights out of the ordinary. “This place is a little secret of mine, but you’re welcome to it anytime.”

“It’s nice here. Quiet.” She licked her jowls, taking in the last morsels of the delicacy. He still hadn’t turned from the sea and just as he meant to ask what had pulled her attention, she surprised him by coming to sit beside him, not just near him, but right beside him, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank. “Thank you.”

Success. He sat still, paralyzed, trying to keep his heartbeat from racing, his tail from twitching. She liked his gift, she liked his shared treasure, he could feel his paws wanting to happy tap in the sand and the springs of his hips wanting to leap in triumph.

But still he sat. Because she had finally come closer and he knew even a twitch would send her just out of reach again, no matter how badly he wanted to curl his tail around her–not only to warm her but to protect–his foxy instincts running high.

But still he kept sitting, as long as he could, watching her from the corner of his eye as she sniffed the wind and seemed to be relaxing around him.

Not long after that, she was gone in the mornings and he’d track her here to this cove and peek around the bluff wall to find her sitting in almost the same spot, looking out toward the sea. The first day he’d found her, he’d startled her and she ran off in a flash, not coming home until after dark.

After that he left her be and went back to the goose flats for breakfast. She’d join him soon enough and say nothing about it, smiling as if all was fine. But she never sat so close to him again and she still slept every night with perked ears near an escape route.

After a while though, he tried a different tactic. He came out into the cove and sat at the shore as she did–quiet and still–only still very far away. He’d let her pick up his scent before moving closer and sitting nearby, matching her gaze to the sea, and they would sit in silence for a short moment before she would perk up as if all was well and backtrack to the wall and therefore getting on with the day, nothing more about her alone time to be said.

Until today. Poking his head around the bluff he found Farrah on her feet, trotting up and down a short length of the shore, eyes on the far, far horizon…and then he noticed the smell.

Snow.

There was an iceberg far out to sea, not unusual for late spring on some years, but not altogether common either. They never came close and were often in and out of sight within a morning. This one was drifting further away and Fink watched as Farrah tracked it going, looked after it even when it was too far to be seen or smelled, finally sitting with a little sigh and sink of the head.

And then he understood.

One recent night they’d been looking up at the stars and Fink had pointed out The Great Crack in the Sky, his friend Roz had told him its name was Cassiopeia, whatever that means. That’s when she told him that in her home, they called that group of stars The Iceberg Edge. The elders of her pack used it to teach kits not to go out onto the ice when they saw the pattern of this constellation on the ground, because it meant the ice was breaking up and going out to sea. 

This is how she came here, she told him, caught on a piece of spring ice that broke away during a clutch of warm days. It drifted too far out to sea for anyone to hear her howling. When it was almost melted out from under her, she was lucky enough to swim to a piece of debris and huddle on it for a few days until there was an upset and she was in the water again and the next thing she knew she was waking up in the hut with a bear blocking the exit.

It seemed like yesterday and ages ago all together.

Once she noticed him sitting down the beach, this time he moved closer and sat quietly for a little bit before speaking slow and low.

“You…miss your home, huh.” As he expected, she only blinked down at the sand, and his ears fell to a droop. But she wasn’t running off or changing the subject. Maybe if she wasn’t ready to talk, she might be okay with listening. Fink swallowed, realizing he was about to say some things out loud for the first time. “I felt the same way when I came to this part of the island. My mom kicked me out pretty early and I was run off before I could really learn the ropes. It took me a long time to forgive her. I know now that it wasn’t her first choice, that there were too many males and not enough females so I guess she was afraid I’d get targeted. But I was pretty darn lonely for a long time.”

“What changed?”

His breath caught as she spoke up, but he managed to recover and answer. “I found friends. Really amazing friends. I hope that for you too. It seems like you’re off to a good start. Especially if you keep giving Pinktail a break from her spawn.”

At least she cracked half a smile before letting it fade again. “Friends don’t replace family.”

“No, not replace. But they can become another kind of family. I have proof.” He’d told her enough about Roz and Brightbill, and Thorn spent enough time in the hut that he knew she understood. “But I’d like to hear about your family…” and here he couldn’t help himself, his self-interests creeping in as he tested his chances, “...I assume you mean your mate and kits…”

Here Farrah gave him a look so sudden, so bewildered and distressed that he was about to ask her if he’d overstepped, but instead, that laugh of hers broke out, although not as loudly as usual. 

“I was talking about my mother and siblings. They were my whole world. They had to be. The food was scarce so the families were spread out and…well. Mate? That’s… I’m obviously nobody’s first choice, I mean, just look..” She stuck out her tongue and made a silly face, tilting her head from side to side. 

Fink could only blink, perplexed.

The breeze picked up, but the scent of snow was only a memory now, the water a flat line. Farrah’s nose pointed down to the sand again, her half smile diminishing by half again for a moment. Fink leaned forward, words starting to bubble up, words he thought he’d never get to say to another fox. But before he could say what he’d been holding down, she shook off the mood and feebly tried to make it a non-issue, abolishing the silence between them.

“Have I ever told you how my sister once head-butted an elephant seal?”

“Ah…no. Really?”

“Really!”

“Huh. What’s…an elephant seal?”

“It’s–oh! Sometimes I forget…of course you wouldn’t know...!” Then that laugh again, launching into the story, starting with an impression of the seal–although if it was a good impression or not, he couldn’t tell having never seen one. But he knew somehow by her laughter that it was. She was suddenly back to normal, comfortable to be herself when it was only the two of them in this little hidden cove.

No mate. She had no mate. This was good news. For him. But sad for her. That is, if she wanted one. What if she didn’t–? Wait. What did she mean by that? That nobody would choose her? Because of her fur? Because she was a runt? Maybe that made sense in a place where she would have to hide from predators, but she wouldn’t have to do that here. And even if it was necessary, he could protect her…probably. If she wanted that... Even so, she’d be okay. If he learned anything from Brightbill it was that sometimes the will to survive past nature’s plan for you makes you even more likely to outlive everyone else.

He could certainly feel nature’s plan working on him and thought with a little grin that he would gladly give up a longer life for that plan to work out….

But Farrah was speaking, talking about her family, their annual rounds from point to point in their territory, how she and her sisters used to share everything and hide and pop out to scare their mother and she would do her very best to act frightened. And the nights dancing under the green light curtains! Had he ever seen the shifting lights in the night sky? He had to admit he hadn’t. So he put his wonderings aside and laid down in the sand, crossing his paws and listened, learned, and bathed in the light of her widening trust. They had all day until the tide came back in. And Fink had no need to be anywhere but here.

He hoped in time, she would feel the same.

___

PART 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 13 part 2/2

masterpost

Given that Dr. and Dr. Fenton had taken him on a drive around town that legitimately climaxed with an on-foot chase of a hulking ghost who did not care to comment for their family blog, Jason thought that was actually kinda probable. If the Drs. had that technology, their kids would probably have access as well.

“Why not?” Tim said, sounding a bit defensive. “We know for a fact that there’s a few undead out there, zombie boy. And there’s a ghost affiliated with the JL.”

All solid points.

‘But there’s no way the good Doctors would be able to convince a ghost to do anything they wanted. Would the daughter have any better luck?’

Jason covered a laugh in his fist.

His ghostly experience so far consisted of:

Danny Phantom, who was very annoyed that Waters was trying to pay him tribute and not happy to see Jason, either.

The mysterious collaborator who hadn’t even wanted Jason to enter his tower.

Skalker, who spent the length of their acquaintance screaming and flying away at what appeared to be his top speed while Jack Fenton whooped and Dr. Fenton shouted questions from a megaphone.

“I get the vibe that they don’t really care to interact with the living,” Jason said, before Tim could get his knickers in a twist. “So my skepticism is in regards to the likelihood of a ghost agreeing to collaborate.”

“What, you think they’re all the same?” Tim said. His tone made it seem like he thought that was such an embarrassingly unintellectual idea that Jason should sink through the floor.

“I think there’s pretty good reasons there might be a trend.”

Tim made an unconvinced sound and changed the subject. “Since they have a similar area of interest, I want to look for a connection between the Fentons and Waters. They could be- Why did you laugh?”

A neon sign lit up across the street, sending a wash of purple light through the air. Jason shook his head. “The Fentons- the Dr.s Fenton, at least, strongly dislike Jeremy Waters.”

“Why did that come up?”

“No reason,” Jason lied airily. “Anyway, that’s not it. Could be some kind of rivalry. But I doubt they’d want to visit Waters in Arkham to give him their sympathies.”

Tim chewed that over for a moment. “Could be a rivalry. I gotta go, O’s hitting my line.”

“Stay safe out there.” Jason cut the conversation and settled in to think. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for something to fiddle with that wasn’t a weapon. It had poser vibes to stand around on a rooftop alone playing with a knife or a gun. If Oracle caught you on video, she would tint it blue, set it to some humiliatingly emo soundtrack, and send it around the hero community.

Not, uh. Not that that had happened to him.

He called in. “Hey, O, good evening.”

“Good to hear from you, Hood.” She sounded as serene as ever.

Jason fidgeted a little. “Anything I could help with?” He toed the front of his boot back and forth on the cement ledge for a moment, killing time by idly calculating how many seconds he’d have to engage a grapple if he fell from this height.

“Good news for Gotham, it’s a quiet night.”

He sighed.

“I know, I know,” O said sympathetically. “You got all dressed up in your dancing shoes-”

“And there’s no one to go out with,” Jason agreed. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that that…might not be true, actually. He made a dramatic sigh. “I might call it a night, then. No point staring at the city like some bat-eared creep. I don’t have any monologues to work on right now.”

“Oh, you got those all done? Good for you, little buddy.”

Jason resisted the urge to flip her off. She wasn’t even here.

“Stay safe,” he said, because the idea of ending a call without saying that always filled him with a terrible premonition that this would be the time the other person ended up shot in the head and gone forever. He blew out a long, slow breath when he was finally truly alone and reconsidered the thought he’d had earlier.

‘I haven’t messaged Phantom all this time. It might be a good night for it. It’s been most of a week. He won’t be annoyed that I’m checking in now.’

Yeah… Yeah, okay. Jason grappled down and made his way to where he’d stashed his bike. He got into his current residence and stripped out of his gear. He got out his phone and shot Phantom a text before he went into the shower. Not much, he didn’t wanna come across as desperate. Just a nice, casual, “Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!”

[jaylver]

LOVE AT FIRST SPEED — L.HS (TEASER!)

SYNOPSIS: World champion, record breaker, winner of hundreds of races, what does Lee Heeseung want other than that? Apparently, love. Being the greatest doesn't mean that he's doing well. Even though there were many girls already lining up for him, he knew none of them were truly sincere. Constantly alone and devoid of love, he craves it unconditionally. That was until everything changed when he met you, his new next door neighbour that doesn’t even know he’s a famous f1 racer. (subjected to change)

OR! in which a world champion tries scoring the girl next door.

PAIRINGS: F1 driver!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers/neighbours to lovers, love at first sight, formula one au, sports au, romance

WARNING(S): profanities, heeseung is a certified loverboy, partying (more to be added)

RELEASE DATE: READ HERE

TAGLIST CLOSED.

TAGLIST: @silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @seongclb @hepli @jayfrvr @jiawji @acciocriativity @m3chigo @in-somnias-world @ren4luv @k1ttylvr @pluviophilefangirl @skzenhalove @deobitifull @ipoststuffandyeah @shinkenprincess-oh @wvnkoi @renaishun @mars101 @kgneptun @rikisly @soobnisms @noascats @velvtcherie @httpsneptvnn @asteria-wood @jihanlovic @heeseungshim @lilriswife4life @aylin-hijabi @noirxraa @classicroyalty @sseastar-main @eskopiganja @wyeri @pearlwsworld @mimisamisasa @enhastolemyheart @zerasari @3amstarlight @dimplewonie @fluerz @philijack @redm4ri

© jaylver all rights reserved.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Lee Heeseung was drunk.

Going out with the boys was probably a mistake. Look, it was off season and everyone was back in Monaco, so it definitely sounded like a great idea to go out for a night out, right? Wrong. 

Letting Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Yeonjun and some of the other drivers drag him to a well known club in the city was his first mistake of the night. The second was accepting all of the shots they offered, acting as if the celebrations of him winning his third world championship wasn’t over yet. The alcohol that took over his senses only made him stumble to the dance floor, dancing wildly with girls surrounding him, not giving a care if a camera was capturing everything. That was his third mistake.

By the end of the night, every one of them were equally shitfaced. It wasn’t a great look, and he was sure their personal trainers weren’t going to be happy at all. Heeseung, in particular, was taking it better than the rest, though still slurring and stumbling around, at least he managed to tell his address fully to the taxi driver. 

Getting dropped off at the lobby looking absolutely destroyed was humbling. He kept his head low, reminding himself that he had a reputation to maintain and went for the elevator, pressing the number of his floor. He was leaning against the wall, holding it for support as he slowly sobered up, trying his best to feel around his body for his keycard.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, unable to remember where it was with that hazy mind of his. 

The elevator stopped at his floor with a ‘ding’, grabbing his attention from his ongoing search for the moment. He trudged along the quiet hallway, dragging his feet and mumbling his regrets. One thing’s for sure was that he should not rely on Jake for claiming it was a ‘light party’. Light party my ass.

Standing in front of his door to the apartment, he was dying to get in and crash into his comfortable bed. However, he remembered what he was struggling to find: his keycard. God, why me, he thought. 

His head was beginning to spin and it was not helping. He was slipping his hand into his back pockets, shirt pockets that didn’t even exist because he’s wearing a button up, then his socks, which was absolutely insane. No, Lee Heeseung was turning insane. At one point, he let out a sigh and leaned his head on his door, swearing that he was about to collapse out of fatigue.

“Uh—are you okay?” Was that a voice coming from the pits of his head? It couldn’t be, it was a woman’s voice. “Mister?”

Heeseung turned around in a blink of an eye, almost letting out a yelp in shock when his eyes landed on you. Even in his drunken daze, he was still able to make out how pretty you were. There you were, standing in a party dress that was enough to tell him you were out clubbing too, makeup that was intact and heels in one hand, creating a small height difference between him and you.

“Huh?” That was probably the dumbest thing he could let out at that moment. Wake up, he cursed at himself. “You’re not that old lady,”

“She moved away,” you guessed he was referring to the old lady that sold you her apartment, the one that was next to this … guy. “I’m guessing you were not here a few months ago to even realise I’m your new neighbour?”

Well, no, Heeseung was busy winning his championship in Abu Dhabi during then. 

He didn’t say that though, instead he shrugged, liking the fact that you were oblivious he was someone well known. “I travel for work, so not really. My apologies,”

“I see,” you nodded your head, continuously cautious, he could see that. “Do you have trouble entering your own home?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You were searching for something—even in your socks,”

“Oh,” he licked his lips, currently embarrassed. “I—uh—don’t know where my keycard is,”

“Have you searched your pockets?”

“Yes,”

“Wallet?”

Heeseung paused. “No …”

“Try searching, I’m sure it’s there somewhere,” you were so confident in saying that, which made Heeseung uneasy and doubtful. How would you know it was there and he didn’t? 

You pulled out your own keycard, pressing against the sensor and your door unlocked with a click, but before you went in and left Heeseung behind, you scrunch your nose up. “You should probably sober up … and also wash away the perfumes on your shirt. It’s heavy,”

Once you shut your door, Heeseung scoffed. He lowered his head to the sleeves of his button up shirt and inhaled, the smell of perfumes from the girls he danced with clung to the fabric desperately. He hated that you weren’t completely wrong. Then, he reached for his wallet, rolling his eyes at your voice in his head, but was once proven right again when he saw his glistening keycard there. For fuck’s sake.

Now, he was guessing he probably set a bad impression on you, making you think he was some stupid womaniser. Gosh, the way your eyes narrowed at him was burnt into his mind. 

Heeseung was not getting much sleep that night.

. . . to be continued !

[ephie-om]

Mephistopheles strides through the halls of the castle with purpose, his cane clacking against the floor. He only stops momentarily to smooth his waistcoat and hair before rapping on the door of Diavolo's office, entering when he hears a muffled 'come in'. He clears his throat as the door swings open, "Lord Diavolo, I've come to discuss the budget for this year's-"

"Not business again," the Prince groans.

"I'm sorry, my Lord?"

Diavolo appears deep in thought before changing the subject at light speed. "You know, nothing much surprises you any more, my friend."

Mephistopheles puffs out his chest a bit at that. "No, my Lord. I do my best to take everything into account. I should not be surprised."

A devilish grin spreads across Diavolo's face. "Let's change that."

“What?”

A shing sounds from behind the massive wooden desk and Mephisto’s reflexes are the only thing that saves him. He switches the cane to his left hand as the Prince sends something flying towards his face. He manages to catch it and barely has time to process that his Prince has just thrown a fucking sword at him before Diavolo starts to attack.

His massive frame hurtles over top of the desk with ease and his own sword comes into view: a bastard sword, by the looks of it, the hilt encrusted with three small red gems and inlaid artfully with gold. The sword that Mephisto finds in his hand is a deft rapier, sharpened to a wicked point. A bronze-colored alloy wraps around the handguard and blends seamless into the blade. It's a simple weapon, beautiful in appearance, but deadly in precision.

Diavolo wastes no time in slicing towards his midsection and Mephisto is forced to pivot on one foot. Diavolo raises his sword after the miss, nearly nicking Mephisto's chin in the process, and readies himself to slam down on the demon’s head with the flat of the blade.

Whatever the Prince throws at him, Mephisto does pride himself on being adaptive, and he can already tell that Diavolo won't be satisfied unless he sees some real effort. He watches his opponent's body language closely, and sees that even with his sheer amount of muscle, Diavolo's sword is heavy. It takes time to move it around after a miss, so all he has to do is bide his time.

The chop from above nearly cracks him in the skull, but he uses the cane in his left hand to brace himself and push his body out of the way just in time. Diavolo's sword nearly buries itself in the floor from the force of the swing, and Mephisto has a millisecond of gut-wrenching fear as he realizes that sword was aimed for him.

Diavolo starts to wrest the sword back up, but Mephisto quickly takes the opening to thrust at his midsection and pull his cane back under him. Diavolo is forced to dodge backwards, reversing his momentum and putting his sword in front of him. That miniscule step gives Mephisto the half second he needs.

He lunges, throwing all his weight into his good leg as the rapier speeds forward. Diavolo, distracted by readying his weapon, sees it just a moment too late and the point stabs into his sword arm. Diavolo curses, and his blade falters. Mephisto brings his back leg up, invading the Prince's range. Even if he could get his sword up now, it was nearly too long to do anything. Mephisto sights his opening, twists, and his blade swishes across the space between them. His hand raises into the air, blade pointed up and away from his opponent, and he delivers a single, devastatingly precise blow with the sword’s pommel to the junction between Diavolo's neck and shoulder.

He stumbles back, raising his hands in the air. “I concede, I concede.” Mephisto takes a half step back, the realization finally setting in. He has just hit, and drawn blood from, the future ruler of the Devildom. He can feel the blood drain from his face as he raises his eyes to meet Diavolo's shining golden ones.

The Prince laughs, that loud, hearty laugh he only does when something unexpected happens. “That was an incredible show, my friend! Well done!”

Mephisto tries to form a sentence that doesn't involve the words 'was that treason' and fails. Diavolo claps him on the back with such force he nearly falls and graciously takes the sword back. “Oh, we're alright,” he says over Mephisto's head, and he turns to see Barbatos’ concerned face in the doorway. “Just had to blow off a little steam.”

He sits back down in his chair, pulling a small container of ointment from his desk drawer and works it into the wound on his arm. Mephisto remains frozen in place until he hears a noise from the door. The butler is gone by the time he turns his head, but he swears it was laughter.

The Prince sits innocently, not a hair out of place, the only evidence that anything from the past five minutes even occurred being the soreness in his right shoulder. “Now, I believe you had some sort of budget to discuss with me?”

[lev1hei1chou]

Physics Class

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo teaches physics to his child, and it doesn't go the way they want it to. Masterlist

It was a typical evening in the Gojo household, or so it seemed. Satoru Gojo was seated at the dining table with his teenage child and a pile of physics textbooks. His usual demeanor was replaced with a look of sheer desperation as he attempted to explain the intricacies of quantum mechanics.

"Okay, so imagine this," Gojo began, summoning his Infinity to illustrate his point. "You have a particle, and it can be in multiple places at once..."

Haru, stared blankly at his father, eyes glazed over with confusion. "But Dad, I still don't get it. How can something be in two places at the same time?"

Gojo rubbed his temples, mentally cursing the day he decided to take on the role of tutor. "Well, you see, it's like... umm... Hollow Purple!" With a flourish of his hand, he conjured the swirling vortex of energy, hoping it would somehow make the concept clearer.

Haru's expression didn't change. "It just looks like purple fog to me, Dad."

Gojo sighed dramatically. "This is harder than fighting curses," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, a light bulb seemed to go off in Gojo's head. "I know! Let's try a practical demonstration." Within seconds, he summoned a small rubber ball and a series of miniature black holes using his powers.

Haru's eyes widened in alarm. "Dad, are you sure this is safe?"

But before he could protest further, Gojo released the ball into the gravitational field of the black holes. Chaos ensued as the ball disappeared and reappeared in seemingly random locations.

"Dad, I think you just broke the laws of physics," Haru exclaimed, a mix of awe and terror in his voice.

Gojo chuckled nervously. "Well, umm... let's just say it's a... creative interpretation."

Despite the chaotic lesson, Haru couldn't help but smile at their father's antics. "Thanks, Dad. I still don't understand quantum mechanics, but at least I had fun trying."

Gojo grinned proudly, tousling his hair affectionately. "That's my kid. Now, let's tackle the next chapter: Kinetic Energy!"

As Gojo delved deeper into the world of teaching normal subjects, he realized that traditional methods simply weren't cutting it. So, he decided to incorporate his sorcery skills into the curriculum, much to the dismay of his teenager.

Satoru decided to demonstrate the concept of kinetic energy using his Infinity. He summoned a couple of marbles and set them rolling on the table, intending to show how their speed affected their energy.

"See, Haru, the faster the marble moves, the more energy it has," Gojo explained, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

His son nodded along, trying to follow his father's logic. But when Gojo decided to ramp up the demonstration by using his powers to increase the speed of the marbles to near-supersonic levels, chaos ensued.

The marbles careened off the table, ricocheting around the room like tiny bullets. Furniture was overturned, vases shattered, and Gojo found himself ducking for cover behind the sofa.

"Dad, I think we should stick to the textbook," Haru yelled over the chaos, dodging a marble that whizzed past his head.

Gojo emerged from his hiding spot, looking sheepish. "Right, maybe that was a bit much."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Gojo household. The door swung open, and you walked in. You were greeted not by the usual calm ambiance of home, but by a scene of utter chaos.

"Baby, what on earth happened here?" you exclaimed, taking in the overturned furniture, cracked decorations and the faint scent of burnt rubber lingering in the air.

Your husband looked up from his haphazard pile of textbooks, relief washing over his exhausted features at the sight of his wife. "Oh, thank goodness you're here. We've had a bit of a... situation."

Your son sat at the table with tears glistening in his eyes, surrounded by scattered papers and half-hearted attempts at calculations. He looked up at his mother with a mixture of frustration and defeat.

"Mom, I just don't understand any of this. We tried so much and nothing worked," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your heart broke at the sight of your son's distress. You crossed the room in a few quick strides, wrapping him in a comforting hug. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll figure this out together."

Turning to Gojo, you found her husband in a state of near-panic, his usual smirk replaced by a look of sheer desperation. "Love, what's going on? Why is everything in shambles?"

Gojo ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his frustration palpable. "I've been trying to help Haru study for his physics exam, but nothing seems to be sinking in. I've tried every trick in the book, and then some my personal tricks. It didn't do much though."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your usually unflappable husband on the brink of a meltdown. "Well, why don't we take a break, and then try some different approach?."

[blindbeta]

So, I've been writing a blind character who cooks. So far, I've written him as being someone who relies a lot on routine and habit, who navigates the kitchen by touch and by memory. He's a bit rigid, and insists on using his own tools, which are color coded (he can see them up close with what residual vision he has) and marked with braille, but I was wondering what other tools a blind person might use when cooking.

A Bunch of Stuff For Blind People Who Want to Cook

I don’t know where and when your story takes place, so what is used might change depending on the character. Here are some options to get you started. There are many tools and techniques devoted to making cooking easier. I don’t know as much about the subject, so I’ll do my best. Please add any other ideas in the notes.

First, the creator @canseecantsee on YouTube and TikTok is an excellent resource. She has lots of videos showcasing how she cooks and does various daily tasks. She demonstrates the use of many tools, such as heat resistant gloves and high contrast items. Here is a video in which she demonstrates chopping vegetables.

Notice the high contrast items such as the yellow chopping board and purple knife. In the video, she demonstrates use of the towel or a place mat beneath the cutting board to prevent slipping. As she cuts a cucumber, tomatoes, and onions, she also uses a technique that allows her to feel the edge of the item so that she knows where she wants to cut and how thick the slices will be.

Here is a video by TheBlindLife showcasing his accessible kitchen. He has excellent points on the importance of contrast, from color contrast to shape contrast. The video includes

bump dots

labels

high contrast colors of tools

high contrast plates and bowls

talking scale and thermometer

heat resistant gloves

and alternatives for glass cups

High contrast is important and can be created by being mindful of the kind of countertops or tables used. For example, in the video, there is a triangular plate that is decorated like a pizza slice. Eating on this plate might cause food to get lost visually, especially food that has the same colors as the plate. Much like the plate, counters or tablecloths with busy patterns might cause items to be harder to see due to lack of contrast. Plain counters, tables, or tablecloths make items stand out more.

Additionally, creating contrast between surfaces and the items on them is helpful. The table is a dark wood? Light plates, bowls, and cups it is. The counter is plain white? The plates and bowls are a dark color.

For glass cups, the video offers solid, colorful plastic cups that offer better contrast. The fact that glasses are clear makes them even more of a challenge and colorful plastic alleviates that concern. However, if someone wants to use glass cups, they can use some that are either made with colorful glass or have color somewhere on them. This might help depending on the contrast and lighting.

In addition to memory, your character can also use labels and various markers. Sharpie, different colors and shapes, textural elements like bump dots, actual Braille or large print labels, tape, stickers, string, or ribbon. Label makers are great, but plenty of other options exist, particularly considering the aesthetic the kitchen has. He may also enjoy decorating this way since he has residual vision. Ribbons tied around containers of sugar, salt, and flour can be cute and functional.

A few other ideas after searching cooking stuff:

talking items, such as a blender, rice cooker, or microwave oven

marking speed on electric mixers or other devices

talking, high contrast, or large print timers

funnel or liquid level indicator

Braille or large print labeled measuring cups

individual bowls for portions, such as soup, rice, sauces, proteins, etc. Different shapes, sizes, or color could also indicate what food item typically goes in what bowl.

You can also come up with other ideas by thinking about what your character would use and how that might be done more easily. While I prefer characters use blindness techniques and assistive devices, people also naturally make things easier for themselves through organization and creating their own labels. A person who cooks might also be able to distinguish certain ingredients by smell or texture.

Another tip I have is to watch blind content creators on social media. Chances are, some of them show themselves cooking or discuss how they do it.

Lighting is also going to be a big deal. The kitchen will need good lighting, both overhead and under cabinets. Natural lighting is also great, although this is not as reliable or constant.

What he uses might also depend on various factors such as income; how often a character cooks; amount of available space; time period and setting; cultural practices around cooking, eating, and utensils used; access to the blind community; willingness to use assistive devices for blind people; any internalized ableism or ableism from family; and level of vision.

Hope that helps.

[adventuringblind]

Band-Aids are for Speed

Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Street Racer AU

Summary: The five times she patched Lando up, and the one time he patched up her.

Warnings: Injury descriptions, broken bones, cuts, bruises, blood, illigal street racing, car accidents

Notes: Author is not a doctor but has watched medical dramas... don't judge my knowledge!

Side Note: I hope le requester enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The first time she met Lando, he was siting in the emergency room waiting to be stitched up. She quietly hums to herself while setting up as the other nurse changes places with her.

The deep gash on his arm makes her wonder what he did to get it, but she also knows better then to ask. He doesn't look like he's in the mood to talk anyway.

It takes approximately three minutes for her to retract that statement. "So, you come here often?"

The question takes her so of guard that she doesn't know what to do with it aside from take the next few seconds to process. Is it not obvious that she works here?

"Do you mean the hospital? Or in this room specifically?" She laughs lightly at the ridiculousness of her patient and blames the minor blood loss.

"Nah, I mean in my presence." He smirks.

She tries to focus on her work. "Can't say I have."

"Would you like to be in it more?"

He gives her his number before he leaves. He dots the 'i' in his name with a heart.

She texts him the second she gets him to ask if he's bless her with his presence again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the few months they've been seeing each other she's learned that Lando is obsessed with cars. It's cute when he jumps into excited rants about his favorite subject.

With the amount they've been talking, it's not shocking that Lando texts her in the evening. She assumes it'll be another silly joke. Instead she's met with frenzied sentences and misspelled words about need medical attention.

She doesn't hesitate to drive to his place. In hindsight, she really should've asked him why he didn't go to A&E when he's bleeding all over the bathroom floor.

"Please tell me you didn't get jumped." She kneels down and sets about getting him a position where she can see what she's doing.

He groans in pain as she moves him. "Nope! It was spectacular though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I crashed the car but still won." He lets out a triumphant hoot.

This man can never give her all the details at one. "You got in a car accident?! How is that winning?!"

"Because I won the money... duh." He's definitely delirious now. Probably has a concussion. "Oh, I didn't tell you? I street race."

There's that strange part of her that is intrigued and curious to know more, specifically because that adds to his sex appeal (like he wasn't hot enough already). The logical side of her brain that is currently staring at Lando bleeding says otherwise. "Uh, no... you didn't."

"Well isn't that unfortunate! You coulda seen me crash today if you had."

Lando is half asleep by the time she is done. She's barely able to wrangle him into bed with how uncoordinated he is. It's useless keeping him awake.

She turns the lights off and is about to leave - "Will you stay?"

"I can, yeah, do you want me on the couch or is there another bedroom?"

"In bed with me. You can stay here - with me."

Against her better judgment, she does.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She doesn't usually work the weekend shift but one of the nurses is on vacation and she could us the extra hours. She leaves her phone on vibrate in her pocket in case of a 'family emergency.'

Said emergency being Lando who is more accident prone on the weekends. Somehow, less accident prone in the car and more when he's doing normal people tasks.

Sometimes she wonders if her gets hurt on purpose just so he has an excuse to see her. She keeps telling him he doesn't need one - just in case - but he still calls and she goes. It's not like she has much else to do with her time aside.

She really shouldn't be shocked when he ends up in emergency clutching his arm. He gives her a bashful smile and tries to awkwardly wave. "Hi."

"And what, my love, are you in for this time?"

"I slipped on the stairs..."

Another male, a tall brunette who she knows as George, hits him playfully on the head. "No he did not! This idiot decided it would be a brilliant idea to tie a skateboard to the back of Alex's car and sit on it while Alex drove."

She throws a stern look at Lando and his smile goes from bashful to downright embarrassed. "You're lucky it's just you're arm."

By the time he's set free into the world to make more impulsive decisions, she makes the executive decision to make him wait until she's done working. He puts a pout on his lips, but it goes away when she sends him to the cafeteria.

They drive home listening to the indie station. The one he's made her fall in love with.

"Thank you, again."

"You've got to stop thanking me, Lan. It is literally my job." She laughs a little at herself for that one.

"Yeah, but, that's not all. You're the only person who doesn't freak out on me for doing stupid shit. Like I know I shouldn't do it but it gives me that adrenaline that racing does." The sincerity in his voice nearly takes her off guard.

"I can't tell what to do, but I'll always be there when you need a patch job."

"And I'll be there when you need a ride." He winks.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

The first time she's at one of Lando's races, she can feel the thrumming in her heart. The excitement of the start and the fear that he could possibly die doing this.

He jogs over to her right before the start. His hands clumsily find her waist and he smash his lips on hers. "For good luck." He whispers as he pulls away.

She doesn't let go, however. She pulls a band aide out of her pocket and sticks it to his hand. It's a crayon, but she highly doubts he'll care to much.

"What's this for?"

"I had a little girl today who told me that Band-Aids give you speed. I thought you might try it."

"When I win, it'll be all because of you."

Lando does win. She buys more Band-Aids with some of the prize money.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She's there when the crash happens. The boys had deemed her the official medical personnel. Which she's glad for, since they are the ones getting her to the crash site. In record time - it has to be - she's sure she's never gone this fast before.

She dives out of the back of the truck to the driver side door. Lando sits there, a few visible cuts, but he's smiling at her. She has half a mind to give the boy an earful, but refrains since he did just crash.

It takes her, Alex, and George to get him out of the car and into the truck. She stitches him up before they go home. In her car, mind you, since the one Lando drove is out of order.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be - just - please remember that I can't fix every kind of injury."

They curl up in bed together. The long night having drained them both of their energy.

"Maybe, but at least my odds of surviving until my thirties have gone up with you around."

"At this rate, you're more likely to die doing dishes then driving."

"That was one time!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to go home, not end up back at her job.

Granted, she's here for a different reason now. One that's not her fault and she's pissed about it. She's going to explode with emotions. Her body hurts so much.

Fucking drunk drivers. Who gave them the right to say it's her fault? Telling her she's lucky it wasn't worse.

A soft knock at the door draws her attention. Lando stands there look mildly disheveled. Still, he has his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my love? Always getting into accidents!"

He comes to lay beside her on the bed and she wiggles to make accommodate him. He pulls out a box of bandages from his pocket and proceeds to put them everywhere she has a new mark.

The stress of it all finally breaks through. She sobs into his shoulder and clings to his sweatshirt. "Thank you."

"Hey, none of that. I owe you for all the Band-Aids you've used on me and all those times you've patched me up."

"Does this mean I can drive your car now? Since I have extra speed?"

Lando raises his eyebrows. "Maybe not drive, but I can think of other things we can do with speed." He wiggles said eyebrows suggestively.

"How about, a speedy recovery? You have plenty of those."

"Alright fine, a speedy recovery - and I'll be here for all of it with a plethora of crayon Band-Aids because I bought them all just for you."

[beeeeandpuppycat]

I just want your heart

A zombie Leon barely able to speak or think but one thing he knows is he loves you

Zom!Leon x femreaders.

Part 2

perfect duo.

Standing Infront of him quietly. A light cold breeze in the air that slightly pushed your bangs Infront your face. His bluish sick skin having a slight pink hue at his cheeks. If he wasn't dead his heart would be bursting free right now .

"You look rather pretty you know..?"

You mumbled in reply. A gentle smile at your lips. Watching his brows furrow in an embarrassed manner . The pale skin at his cheeks flushing a soft pink. Seeming he wasn't gonna answer you quickly attempted change the subject

..

"let's go- come on."

He nodded in response, quickly speeding up his steps - walking up the half broken steps up to the second floor of the hotel. A free room taking your attention when the purple light from the moon barely covered the door - tugging him along with you much to his annoyance. A grumpy grumble coming out of him as he limped over following you . The door shutting behind him with a loud slam. One bed - a rather big bed. But does Leon even sleep ? Your head turning to him quietly, head tilted to the side softly

"you want the bed?"

..

He quickly shaked his head , nudging you with his shoulder over to the bed. Not in the best state, but so far, the best place you've slept during the whole apocalypse . His body slipped down on the floor quietly. Leaning up against the bed. Cheek against the mattress , leaning his head down and to the side quietly looking up at you with pretty blue eyes. Eyelashes fluttering quietly as you stayed busy looking out the window of the room, the dim city lights and the vines and moss mostly covering the whole city. Somehow ? It looked prettier than before

..

"I can feel you staring leon.."

.

You said barely above a whisper. Walking over quietly sitting down on the bed with your head tilted down to him. His rough hand moved up pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently. His eyelashes fluttering in a loving manner

..

"howd you become a .. you know..?"

Well. He was one of the few people you thought would survive this. And well you weren't wrong. Somewhere in him is still alive. Right in his chest right where you belong - sitting up beside you his gloves finger moved up gently writing on your thigh with it. A slight hint of blood being left behind

"m-i-s-s-i-o-n"

..

"like a police mission?"

You quickly replied in confusion. Before he shook his head again - you didn't know yet about his job. Well.. you hadn't seen eachother for a while even before the apocalypse.feels almost weird being so close to him again

.

"g-o-v-e-r-m-'

"government ?!".. you guessed out ,cutting him off before he quickly nodded. Always knew you were smart ! You thought to yourself not letting that word quite sink into your brain.

.

"wait- WHAT-"

You shouted in surprise, your body leaning forward towards him. He quickly flinched back at your loudness and the way you got do much closer, feeling your breath up against his face before nodding. Well .. he did tell you once about something "police blah blah blah blah".. actually, maybe he's not the only one that ignores people ..

"Thats - cool..."

You mumbled awkwardly not exactly knowing how to answer. - Well I mean does he count as a police man anymore? Should you treat him with more respect ?His shoulder nudges yours softly, Looking down at you quietly .- pointing at you his head tilted down in curiosity

The last time he saw you ,you were living with a few of your friends no??

"Oh -..uhm.. I was out shopping when it all happened.. i don't really know where all my friends are currently. We weren't together and they couldn't answer their phone"

You mumbled softly. Your head titled and to the side . Now slightly avoiding his gaze. He could tell you were holding on to little proof that they were still alive, most peolle were hanging on to pure hope now.

His hand suddenly moved up. Bloody fingers moving down hugging the side of your face softly. Thumb lovingly brushing againts the skin.

"Wha.."

You whispered in confusion. You never saw him so gentle in these past few years. But it felt nice .- your breath softly hitching tilting your head up before your body sprinted forward . Arms wrapped round before his head and shoulder with your face shoved in the crook of his neck. As tough as you seem. Staying alone in an apocalypse full of zombie and cannibals isn't exactly gonna make a cheery person.. your hed moved back looking at him quietly before leaning forward. leaving a lil peck againts his lips.

"A thank you gift.. for saving me earlier"

he stayed silent for a few seconds. not exactly knowing how to answer,his face was pratically a tamato at this point .before a slight smile formed at his lips. not really the easiest to make out with his ripped out jaw . but you think he enjoyed it ? a quick nod coming from him as he pushed himself back down against the foor. you should get some clean. you need all your energy for tomorrow, you thought to yourself. leaning upagainsts theheadboardd . your head tilted down gently as you rested your eyes shut. quickly drifting into sleep.

.

.

.

.

you woke up. a slightly bluish yellow light shining on your face through the window, making your eyes sting ever so slightly . leon already seemed awake. standing over you quietly with an arm crossed over his chest. his had moved down writing with his finger on to the bare skin of your nape noticing you awake .

"s-l-e-e-p. W-e-l-l?"

you nodded softly sitting up and pushing yourself off the bed . arms behind your back stretching out . you would ask him .. but you dont really wanna think of the fact he was staring at you the whole night.

"we need to go. find some group.. or supplies ".

maybe a police station. but you're pretty sure the world is far too gone. is the government even alive anymore? You're not even sure if anyone is alive anymore except you. And a half?Tho.. you're not sure of another group. You were enjoying being with him alone- but yeah. It would be better

he grabbed your hand softly. tugging you along with him while you guys wondered out the room. leon grabbing his gun out his pocket making you jump ever slightly as you walked down the halls. Jeez.. did he always have that ?

.

'SHI-' you shouted out rather

aggressively when a rather rotton smell came behind you as if leon didnt already stink... torn hand gripping your shoulder and some freaky grumble making your back shiver. fuck- zombie.. in the moment not really knowing what to do. gripping a small pocket knife you rushed to stab it in the eye. eyes widened and pulling yourself back as it attempted to limp forward. leon finishing the job as he gripped your shoulder. gently pulling you behind him. a step forward while he one-shot the zombie. blood splatting the floor that almost looked like it was moving. That's a first.. you've killed them before, but you never bothered to look at the after math.

grabbing leons hand you pulled his glove off. as if you were gonna touch it with your bare hands. - gently poking it while the slimy almost hard like liquid wrapping round your finger. Quickly standing up while shaking it off.- icky..- could see the discomfort on your face.

..

"What- the fuck Is that.."

You somewhat shouted. Rolling your eyes softly moving to stand beside him quickly. At the sight of more coming towards you- Leon mostly wanted to go to the police station. Atleast get you a gun even if you wouldn't use it. - stood there in a fight stance before. To be honest. Fuck no- you immediately toon a step back - which he noticed. Quickly pushing you beside him when he realises you might have been frightened. Arm forward and one step back one step forward. Gun headshot- ting most of them one coming just slightly too close to Leon. You stood behind head poking out slightly before quickly stabbing it in the eye from behind - almost stabbing his shoulder in the process. An angry lil grumble coming from him in the process he turned around. - head tilted down looking at you quietly..

"were suchhh.. a good teamm...!"

You mumbled quietly. Hands behind your back and eyes slightly dating to the side .. - he half looked like he was gonna punch you half looked like he found you funny. - gently nodding while his shoulders dropped. Soon quickly grabbing you back again. Same arm with the gun going behind your back hugging it quietly . - his limping body dragging you along to the nearest police station. The doors swinging open . You walking behind Leon while he shot ahead of him. Making sure you weren't in any open positions to get hurt . Wondering round in every room. Looking for any herbs guns ammo even got a granola bar cause that's such a good find?. Even if he doesn't need any herbs he'd like it for you. - grabbing you closer when he walked round the desk in the office. Grabbing a gun from the counter and handing it to you.

..

"thanks - but I don't know how to use it.."

You mumbled. Your head tilted to the side . He huffed in response. Well he already guessed you were gonna say that- softly grabbing your palm . Writing into your palm leaving a slight stain of blood behind.

"I c-a-n t-e-a-c-h"

Looking up at him- you quickly nodded happily. Tho Leon doesn't really seem like the best teacher. It could be fun, no? His hand grabbing yours softly quickly making your guys way out. His head tilted down quietly looking up at him- blush flushing at your cheeks in an almost embarrassed manner. Feels weird. Considering you guys didn't talk as much before and now suddenly it's like nothing ever happened. There was a church nearby.. tho it's kinda creepy, hes pretty sure had some food. Anything that's not just a granola bar would be better. Walking out the police station - golden hour shining down at you guys. Watching the way his eyes turned slightly purple at the yellow light. A bit of sweat dripping down the side of his face quietly walking with you down the alleyways.

[missyandthemisfits]

Bakusquad x Chubby!Fem

Katsuki Bakugo 

- So he actually prefers them on the thicker side??? That said his ideal match is someone who is thickfit, someone who's a little heavier than most other girls but doesn't shy away from working out or training

- Shows determination and drive and he's most definitely attracted to that above all else 

- It feels much less a confession from him and more like a feral dog laying claim to his favorite toy at the expense of a much less intense dog-

- He noticed how uncomfortable (Name) was getting with all the attention of the upper classmen, eyes narrowing as he watched you tug on your sweater nervously

- He was already a little miffed that they'd gotten out of class as late as they did, but having (Name) harassed right outside the school gates? Not on his watch

- "Hey zeros, get lost."

- "What did you say to me, blondie?"

-"I said," he slides an arm around her waist suddenly, the other hand crackling with miniature explosions, itching for a fight, "Get lost." 

- They're obviously nervous but attempt to play it off with a click of the tongue and an unconvincing 'whatever' - they scamper off into the distance 

- "Um...Thank you, Bakugo."

- She's kind of a blushing mess, hands on her hot cheeks and he releases her, quick to turn in the opposite direction, ears bright red

- "Dammit all - Do I seriously have to babysit you like this?"

- It's all he says but he makes no effort to ditch her, slowing up just a bit to match her speed

- I'm not saying he's whipped but uhhh ...he definitely softens up some around (Name)

- He won't say a single thing outright but she notices the subtle changes- it's in the way he finds an excuse brush against her soft skin (while complaining, naturally) when handing her whatever it is, the way he allows his knee graze hers as they sit on the sofa half listening to Kaminari's endless whining, in the way he always ends up standing next to her in any social setting.

- It's cute but the pining drags on for a while because truly neither of them knows how to bridge the gap between friendship and more-

- A very, very slow burn 

Eijiro Kirishima 

- He may be all about fitness, but he is WEAK for a soft, sassy girl. And believe me - the sassier, the better

- Cannot fathom why either he is just really, really into girls like that

- Coincidentally, he's into the shy type as well. But let's face it, he could really link up with most ANY personality save for someone overly bitchy- 

- Upon meeting (Name), there's a weird thump of his heart that he doesn't quite recognize, so he just shakes it off and introduces himself with that adorable toothy grin he gives out like candy

- They're friends instantly (because how could you not be?) and hit it off right away, hanging out with and without the entire crew quite often. He usually is unable to sit still for too long without getting drowsy (he exerts himself a lot so), giving (Name) the perfect opportunity to not only catch up on manga, but to sneak a few glances his way 

- She may or may not have snuck a few pictures of one sleeping Kirishima 

- Always wakes up with tousled hair, disoriented. And without fail, no matter the time of day, is greeted warmly with a "Morning Sleepyhead. Love your hair."

- He's always embarrassed just enough to adorn a light dusting of a blush while smoothing down his hair completely 

- It's during one of these peaceful and (usually) undisturbed  moments that he realizes his heart is beating a little faster than it should be and he enjoys spending time with (Name) far more when it's just the two of them- 

- And suddenly the lighthearted teasing Ashido had been subjecting him to makes total sense

- Plans probably the cheesiest confession one day after class, complete with a nervous but excited grin - too bad his friend group decided to eavesdrop

- "About time!" Kaminari 

- "I'll say." Sero, huge grin on his face

- He's quick to race toward them and roughhousing ensues, but not before tossing another glance at a giggling (Name)

Denki Kaminari

- While he's not necessarily against having a heavier significant other, he may prefer someone closer to his size - baby boy is a little insecure about his own physique, especially in comparison to his friends 

- That said he took one look at (Name) and immediately was starstruck by just the cutest plump girl he ever did see - he actually hesitated to approach, believe it or not

- But he lives by the motto 'You miss 100% of the shots you don't take' so in true Kaminari fashion, he saunters over, smolder in full force as he shoots his shot

- She blinks once, twice as if trying to decide whether or not to respond and he starts to sweat, backpedaling under the gaze of the cute girl and her friends

- "...Or not? Sorry, I'll just uh head that way now-,"

- She catches his hand

- "I was waiting on you to introduce yourself properly, but I guess I'll go first. I'm (Name). And you are?"

- He stutters a bit, lamely and she finally cracks a smile

- "Nice to meet you Kaminari. So, Friday night you said? I may have to flake on something but you're just cute enough for me to bail."

- He is visibly taken aback by her boldness

- "Really...? I mean yea, that's - yea!" 

- Smooth

- They exchange numbers and things move pretty quickly from there since they're both pretty avid texters - he's pleasantly surprised to find she's as into music as he is, even his more eclectic selection 

- "I know it's niche and honestly I can't really understand all the lyrics cause English, but it just sounds like a lowkey banger, ya know?" 

- She nods enthusiastically

- "I see why you like it!" She's humming along with her eyes closed and his heart is doing backflips because somehow, he managed to find a cute girl who likes even the most embarrassing parts of himself

- His eyes flicker back and forth from her jovial form to her plush lips and he desperately wants to close the gap but can't seem to find the courage 

- Defeated by overthinking, he leans over just enough to let his head fall onto her shoulder, positive she could feel the heat radiating from his face 

- Getting the girl? No problem. Planning and planting a dynamite first kiss? Difficultly level 90

Hanta Sero

- Sero truly doesn't discriminate in any capacity, so it makes no difference to him what size his lady love is 

- Althooough it certainly excites him more than one might think, the prospect of having a thick woman on his arm to spoil and tease equally

- He's a firm believer in developing a friendship before pursuing a relationship, not only does it create stronger, deeper bonds but it sort of ensures that he gets to know and love the real them, no filter 

- Can't lie, the crush is more than likely instant, from the moment he saw (Name) he knew he wanted to try and woo her - but these things take time and finesse 

- So the hang out sessions are frequent and she's invited to pretty much every squad hangout from then on. He gets to know her that way; trips to the mall or comic book store, lazy rainy days where they decide which movies to marathon(Bakugo will complain if he doesn't approve mind you), video game tournaments they host in the dorm commons...he very much enjoys getting to know his plump companion and the crush starts developing into something a lot more substantial 

- He starts telling jokes to the group just to get a laugh out of (Name) and involuntarily deflates a bit if it doesn't land. Also starts making solo hangouts a more of a thing, partially to gauge her reaction and partially because, well, you know

- While he's still completely positive he wants to be in a relationship with (Name) the closer they get, the more apprehensive he becomes. He's not the most attractive guy in the room and he's certainly not the smartest or strongest, but he was still a suitable enough to date, right...?

- It's on a night where she's bundled up under his spare blanket and leaning into him that the confession tumbles out. They're watching some show he was only vaguely interested in on her phone, a perfect excuse to scoot in close enough for him to rest his chin on top of her head

- "So, hey," his voice is barely above a whisper

-  "Uh huh?"

- "Would you be opposed to going out with me tomorrow?" 

- She takes a beat

- "Like a date?"

- He inhales sharply before pulling back to look her square in the eyes so that she knew this was wasn't a joke of any kind

- He nods and confirms, hoping for the best but fully expecting the worst. Suddenly, she pulls him close shakily, hiding her face in his baggy shirt

- "I didn't think you'd ever ask..."

- He chuckles lightly, wrapping his long arms around her

- "Sorry it took so long."

Can’t remember if I posted this here or not lol