#dissolves on the fuckin wind

[lovelyrotter]

i am curiose 👁️ abt the equius -> lil cal -> striders theories

oh shit aight [cracks knuckles] im not as good as others at organizing this stuff but imma do my best

so basically in terms of classpecting Lil Cal is ridiculous. dude has a lord of time, bard of rage, AND a prince of heart all mixed up together. however you wanna interpret caliborn, gamzee, and hal existing inside lil cal is up to you but for this theory we're lookin at them as separate entities kind of like system members in a plural way cause thats just what makes the most sense to me conceptually. but ANYWAY thats three powerful classpects all running around butting up against each other. time rage and heart is an insane combination so why is lil cal not greating a passive AOE type gravity well of destruction just by sitting there? my partner and i think its because of equius being an heir of void. this classpect has always fuckin fascinated me cause like, he basically inherits nothing right? thats a literal read of it at least. void is fuckin weird and my autistic brain no matter how many wrinkles it has just cant grasp it which is, yknow, what void is and does

Heir of Void: One who Invites Manipulation of Void or one who Invites Manipulation through Void

take a look at the above blog cause its really well put imo. there are so many ways to interpret void in general and heirs are also kind of a funky class, but we believe that inside lil cal, equius has been using his void powers as a shock absorber. equius IS a shock absorber. what do you do with all that power but you cant let it get out? you try to keep it caged. the heir of void acts like a blackout blind inside lil cal whether equius is concious of it or not, whether hes an active separate conciousness who still identifies as equius or not. lil cal is also an heir of void purely because equius is there. void just kinda naturally cancels out the other more active/destructive classpects. hes the base to caliborn, gamzee, and hals acid

which then makes me go crazy thinking about beta dirk again like ive talked about before. i truly believe that lil cal had a major hand in making bro strider as abusive as we see in hs1. i believe that any dirk is capable of slipping into abusive/toxic behaviours. AR for instance maniplulated dirk and others almost every time we see him but thats also complicated as fuck, because i think that was him being backed into a corner. he had no other choice in terms of holding onto his automity basically. not excusing orchestrating dirks first decapitation but its a fascinating reason. i think Hal/AR is what Beta Dirk could have been like without lil cal's interference. the sexual abuse and throwing dave down the stairs? thats lil cal's work.

lil cal has 3 extremely violent people floatin around inside him (caliborn, gamzee, equius), two of them having intense and poorly managed fixations on intimacy/tenderness and sex/kink in general, and one deeply scared, angry, and traumatized splinter of Dirk himself. an absolutely toxic combination and one that set Bro up for failure since he was sent into the beta timeline. Bro Strider is absolutely a Doomed Dirk. i do not count AR as being a violent person, at least compared to the others, but if while in Lil Cal he's still angry at Dirk then who knows what their interactions wouldve been like while Beta Dirk grows up. We do get to see a window into what AR couldve been like inside Lil Cal when we get into the Doc Stratch stuff because Doc Stratch is basically AR but creepier, which... actually leads me to believe way more that by the time Doc Scratch is A Thing, AR's personality has been melded into something/someone else entirely. but they talk + type pretty much exactly the same. its absolutely crazy i hadnt noticed that until recently. everyone wondering what AR would be like if Bro Strider made him? points to Doc Scratch unfortunately

but comin back from the inevitable Hal Tangent(tm), like its fuckin fascinating because while i do count Equius as contributing to Lil Cal's general toxicity (mostly through his learned caste bullshit) i also think, again, that hes the only reason why we never actually saw Bro draw Dave's blood. not even a drop. he cut his shirt symbol yeah but his shirt was intact.

we see Equius getting stressed over breaking shit accidentally basically the whole time hes alive. i mean fuck the whole glass of milk gag in one of the final alterniabounds while you play him. its pretty easy for me to read that as him being generally anxious about being too strong for his enviornment, especially too strong to touch anyone he cares about, and that when he does eventually end up breaking smth/hurting someone, it impacts him. like a lot. he could easily hurt Nep if hes not careful so hes gotta pull back and be suuuper gentle like all the time. and him having that kinda temperament combined with his classpect makes me think that he'd use his void powers to protect and cloak and supress. he embodies the void. he becomes 'nothing' and therefore he becomes anything he wants.

basically, Equius is a tempering force inside Lil Cal and thus a tempering force over Bro too because hes constantly scared of and stressed over breaking shit and hurting his friends. he knows how dangerous Caliborn and Gamzee are. Gamzee killed him easily after all. So he can't let Bro actually touch Dave. Bro might not want to touch dave anyway with how Caliborn sexualizes platonic touch. but Bro still needs to make Dave STRONG enough to survive the game, Eq can help with that at least

[reachartwork]

Weekend Vacation

Charlie's lungs burned as she sprinted down the endless concrete corridor, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her heavy combat boots pounded against the hard, unforgiving surface with each desperate stride. The dull gunmetal gray walls stretched out before her, featureless and unbroken save for the occasional heavy security door set at seemingly random intervals. Each looked identical to the one before it, stamped with an inscrutable string of letters and numbers, the only landmarks in this monotonous stretch of hallway.

An occasional perfectly square window - a gap, really, not filled in with glass or anything translucent besides atmosphere - showed the beautiful surroundings to this vein in the Chicago Tower. Hundreds and hundreds of vertical meters of nothing, the omnipresent black fog-of-war in these higher levels preventing sight of even the nearest walls. They were hanging in a catwalk.

Behind her, the staccato rapport of assault rifle fire echoed off the close confines, punctuated by panicked shouts and the occasional pained scream as her pursuers drew ever closer. Charlie risked a glance over her shoulder, catching a fleeting glimpse of dark figures clad in matte black tactical armor as they rounded the corner behind her, their movements preternaturally fluid and precise. Not human - or at least not baseline. Corporate security, maybe, or some new breed of DARPA nightmare. It didn't matter. All that mattered was putting as much distance between herself and them as possible.

Her hand drifted to the polymer grip of the strange, asymmetrical pistol holstered at her hip - a "Needler", Jay had called it when he'd first shown it to her. Looted from some hidden cache deep in the bowels of the Miami Tower a few months back, when they'd been hired on for a deep delve by some corp looking to snatch up artifacts ahead of the feds. It fired razor-sharp ceramic flechettes, propelled by linear induction to hypersonic velocities. Designed to punch through body armor and shred soft tissue. Only a few mags left though - and as much as it pained her to admit it, even mag-dumping the sleek little monster likely wouldn't do more than slow these bastards down.

No, what she needed was to find a way off this level. Get to a place she could hunker down, catch her breath, and wait for her team to circle back around. Speaking of which… Her free hand fumbled at the side of her matte black ballistic helmet, fingers finding the chunky rubber PTT button. "Jay, Mouse - sitrep. Got heavies on my six, could use a hand here."

A burst of gunfire sounded from somewhere behind her - and entirely too close for comfort - the rounds pinging off the concrete far too near her head for her liking. She ducked instinctively, shoulders hunching as she put on an extra burst of speed. "Like real fuckin' soon, guys."

Mouse's nasally tenor crackled over the comm channel, nearly drowned out by a wash of static. "Workin' on it, fearless leader. Had to double back to the checkpoint to snag the long guns. But I think we can cut 'em off if we-" His voice dissolved into a garbled electronic screech, the signal breaking up into indecipherable fragments.

"Mouse? Mouse!" Charlie shouted into her mic, panic rising in her throat. No response. Goddamnit. The levels this high up played merry hell with comm signals on the best of days. Something to do with the artifact radiation, or so the nerd brigade claimed. All Charlie knew is that it meant her team was out there in the Wind somewhere, coming for her. She just had to stay alive long enough for them to reach her.

POST TO r/TowerRunners241391 SubLink: ANALYSIS OF NEW TOWER THREATS StrikeVector42 1.4k points 2 days ago So it seems the Tower Authority has stepped up their game again. I had a run-in with these new security drones (at least I think they're drones) on my last deep delve and let me tell you, they are NO joke. Fast, heavily armored, and equipped with what looked like high-end mil-spec hardware. Managed to drop one with a few mags from my M56A1 and got a closer look before I had to bail. Def not human - no blood, and I could see servos and hydraulics through some of the holes I punched in its armor. Almost like someone kitbashed a Northrup dog-brain into an Ares HOPLITE chassis. Bad news for solos and underequipped teams. Might be time to start packing some heavier ordnance for Tower runs. Thoughts? >ArrowheadActual 671 points 1 day ago Damn, that's some high-end shit. You'd think they'd have better things to spend the budget on than harassing underpaid runners. Although I guess artifact retrieval is big biz for the feds, especially after that Miami fiasco. As for heavier ordnance, I'd say yeah, probably a good call. I've been telling my crew we need to invest in some anti-material rifles or maybe one of those Militech plasma lances. Expensive as hell, but you can't really put a price on not getting vented by some roided-out murder bot. >>TacoTaster 287 points 22 hours ago Oh sure, because a buncha small-time runners can def afford bleeding-edge Militech hardware. Why don't you throw in one of those Mitsubishi drop pods while you're at it, really round out the kit. Nah, the smart play here is avoidance. Stick to the edges, don't get greedy, and be ready to bail at the first sign of trouble. I've been soloing the Austin and Philly Towers for years now and never had a problem I couldn't sprint away from. Although I will say the new sensor suite I picked up last month has been a game-changer for detecting patrols. Maybe see if you can scrounge up one of those before dropping rent money on a plasma lance.

The chatter of automatic weapons fire was growing louder now, echoing through the labyrinthine corridors in a dizzying cacophony that made it impossible to pinpoint its source. They were getting closer. Sweat beaded on Charlie's brow, running into her eyes and blurring her vision as she blinked it away. She could feel her legs starting to tremble with exhaustion, her lungs searing with each ragged breath. She couldn't keep this pace up much longer.

There! Up ahead, set into the endless expanse of cold gray concrete - a door, its matte black surface adorned with the same inscrutable alphanumeric markings as all the others. But unlike the sealed and reinforced security checkpoints she'd been sprinting past, this one looked�� different. Older, maybe. And slightly ajar, a slim wedge of impenetrable darkness visible in the gap. Charlie didn't hesitate, throwing herself forward with a final burst of desperate speed and shouldering her way through into the unknown.

((SYNAPNET VC-CHANNEL TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT, SOUTH-CENTRAL GRID 1707-A)) 27634: -that's why I'm telling you there's something seriously wrong here! 09611: All I'm hearing are baseless allegations from someone who doesn't understand the tech. Do you even know how the artifacts work? How CARPA interfaces on a synaptic level with human neural architecture? The risks are minimal and the benefits far outweigh- 27634: The risks? People are DYING, you idiot! Keeling over with seizures or breaking through their regocycles speaking nonsense about the new gods. I saw it myself on my last core delve of the New York Tower. Something's in there… something that reacts to the artifacts. And the feds know it. [USER #09611 - AUTH ACCEPTED - KEYS UPDATED. PERMISSIONS NOMINAL.] 00244: >KEY ACCEPTED. UPLINK SUCCESSFUL.< 09611: What the- How did you get on this frequ- [SIGNAL LOST. CHANNEL REVOKED. HAVE A NICE DAY.]

The room beyond was dark, lit only by the pulsing crimson glow of emergency lighting strips set into the junctures of walls and floor. It was big, far larger than any of the storage rooms or armories Charlie and her crew had raided in the past. More of a cavern, really, its distant walls lost in shadow. The air hung thick and heavy, the cloying stench of ozone and scorched metal assaulting her nostrils.

Towering banks of computer equipment dominated the room's center - server stacks, their matte black chassis roughly the size and shape of refrigerators, all interconnected by dense nests of bundled fiber-optic cabling that pulsed and flickered with streams of data. A command console of some kind was set before them, a horseshoe arc of display screens and input devices that looked like something straight out of a big-budget sci-fi sim.

Charlie approached it warily, senses straining for any hint of movement in the shadows. Nothing. Just the hum of fans and the muted clicking of environmental systems cycling on standby mode. She slid into the console's wraparound crash couch, fingers playing across the nearest display. It blinked to life at her touch, pale green text crawling across the screen. Some kind of debug interface, dense with jargon she couldn't even begin to parse.

"C'mon you bucket of bolts, give me something I can use here…" A few swipes and taps brought up what looked like a master systems display, a wireframe representation of the Chicago Tower with their current position blinking at its summit. And off to one side, tucked away behind layers of sub-menus and flickering holo-glyphs - a communications suite. Her heart leapt. If she could just patch a signal through, boost it enough to punch past the interference-

POST TO r/TowerRunners420692 SubLink: I THINK I FOUND SOMETHING HUGE IceBreakYoself 2.9k points 12 hours ago Guys, this is big. Like, really fucking big. You know that covert data center everyone's been whispering about? The black box site squirreled away somewhere in the upper levels of the Chicago Tower, where all the REALLY juicy experimental tech is supposed to be locked down? I think I just stumbled across it. I'm not gonna say too much (opsec and all that) but it looks like some kind of quantum computing rig hooked into a TITAN-class simulspace, all off-the-books DoE hardware that probably doesn't officially exist. And I found references in the system logs to something called JANUS - no idea what it is but it seems to be the core around which this whole setup is built. I managed to pull a partial schematic before I had to bail (sec was def onto me) but I'll see if I can piece together any more details from my download. TripleTeaTime 1.2k points 5 hours ago Holy shit, for real? I've heard rumors about some hush hush fed project in the upper levels but always assumed it was just undie banter. If you actually found evidence of it… Dude, you'd better be careful. That's the kind of thing certain three letter agencies wouldn't think twice about disappearing you over.

Charlie cursed under her breath as her fingers danced across the terminal's input keys, each command met with a mocking buzz of denial from the system. Unauthorized access, insufficient privileges, blah blah fucking blah. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing ever was, in this business.

Her musing was interrupted by a sudden flurry of movement in her peripheral vision, a dark figure detaching itself from the shadows with liquid grace. No, two- no, three of them, their forms shimmering and indistinct even to her goggles. The sound of their footfalls was swallowed by the room's oppressive hush, muted to a whisper despite the hard composite of the floor plates. Definitely not human. Humanoid, but too many elbows. Guns made for hands with different amounts of joints.

Charlie was moving before the conscious thought had even fully formed, her rifle snapping up to her shoulder as she rolled out of her chair and behind the meager cover of the server stacks. The muzzle flash of her own weapon was blinding in the near-dark as she opened up on full auto, a shredding fusia cyclic rate of fire that chewed divots and craters into the far wall.

She caught a glimpse of dark, lithe forms scattering at her fusillade, splitting up to flank her with impossible speed and agility. Their return fire was immediate and precise, superheated slivers of razored tungsten slicing through the the air around her head like invisible guillotine blades. Charlie ducked back behind the dubious shelter of the servers, breath coming in sharp huffs as she fumbled to slap a fresh mag into her rifle's receiver.

Her hands were shaking, adrenaline turning her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. She could hear the soft, padding footfalls of the cybernetic monstrosities closing in on either side, the muted whine of servos and hydraulics underlying each step. Sweat ran into her goggles. This was bad. This was really goddamn bad.

Pain exploded along her ribs as a burst tore through the server chassis to her left, shredding kevlar and skin alike. Charlie bit back a scream, clutching at her side as warm wetness spilled through her fingers. It wasn't that bad. She'd had worse, right? Except she could already feel the numbness spreading out from the wound, a cold heaviness seeping through her torso. Fuck. Poison? Neurotoxin?

Her vision swam as she struggled to bring her weapon to bear on the flash of movement to her right, finger tightening on the trigger on pure instinct. Her burst went wide, sparks showering down from the ceiling as the rounds tore into cables and conduits. Not enough. Not nearly enough. As the adrenaline began to fade, the pain of her wound reasserted itself with a vengeance, a sickening throb that made her head spin.

One of them was on her then, close enough that she could feel the heat of its mechanisms as it loomed out of the darkness. A vise-like hand clamped down on her wrist, crushing armor and bone with equal ease. Her rifle fell from suddenly limp fingers, clattering to the deck. This was it, then. This was how she died - alone and forgotten, just one more runner who'd pushed her luck too far, four kilometers too high. She should've stayed on the lower floors, where it was safe. The kiddie pool.

She waited for the killing blow, senses hyperattuned to each agonizing instant as if by stretching it out she could postpone the inevitable. But it never came. Instead, there was a shuddering impact, a warbling shriek of tortured metal, and the iron grip on her arm fell away. She collapsed, toppling bonelessly to the hard metal decking.

Somewhere above her, the chatter of automatic fire filled the air, punctuated by warbling shrieks and the crunch of rending metal. Familiar voices shouted in staccato urgency, barking terse commands that her pain-addled mind struggled to parse into words. A bellow of triumph was cut short by the wet thud of tearing flesh, followed by a scream of anguish.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The room fell crushingly silent but for the low groans of the wounded and the occasional sputter of a dying servo. Ungentle hands seized Charlie by the shoulders, rolling her over onto her back. The lancing agony of the movement brought tears to her eyes, her vision clearing enough to resolve the soot-streaked faces of her team hovering over her.

Jay's broad, battered features split into a fierce grin as he saw her eyes focus on him, teeth startlingly white against his dark skin. He'd lost his helmet somewhere in the chaos, and an ugly gash over his left eyebrow wept crimson down his cheek. "Shit, boss," he rumbled. "We leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens."

Mouse offered a strained chuckle at that, though the ashen set of his features belied his humor. His left arm hung limp and bloodied at his side, the polymer of his armor sleeve split open from wrist to elbow. His other hand clutched a bulky plastek case to his chest, the seams of its lid pulsing with the telltale argent glow. "Yeah, well, I think Charlie's little solo operation paid off." He offered a pained grimace, hefting his burden. "Snagged more than just this while I was poking around. Got some data drives that should fetch a fine price with the right buyer."

A wet, wracking cough burst from Charlie's lips as she tried to sit up, each spasm setting her chest aflame with agony. She gritted her teeth, forcing out words between panting breaths. "Great. Happy for you. Dunno if you noticed, but I'm kinda bleeding out here."

"Shit, yeah, hang on." Jay produced a palm-sized black disc from a pouch at his belt, snapping it open to reveal the coiled tubing and gleaming needle of an autosuture. He pressed it against the ruin of her side and depressed the trigger stud, a sharp coldness spreading out from the impact as the device hissed and spat. Charlie stifled a yelp, jaw clenching against the urge to scream as it knitted up her perforated flesh in fast-forward.

"There we go, good as new. Sorta." Jay tossed the expended device aside, surveying his handiwork. "Need a top up?" He tilted his head toward the bulky shape of the drug injector riding his other hip, while his free hand wrapped around a purifier, slamming it into the exposed skin on Charlie's side.

Charlie made a face, shaking her head, nostrils twitching at the sharp but otherwise pleasant pinprick of the purifier's needle. "Nah, I'm good for now." She'd seen what that stuff did to people firsthand - made them feel invincible, sure, but also made them sloppy. Stupid. She needed her wits about her if they were going to get out of this. She couldn't afford the luxury of chemical courage.

She forced herself to her feet with Jay's help, muscles protesting every inch of the way. Mouse shot her a worried look, which she waved off with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I'll be fine," she said, biting off each word. "Sitrep. How many of those things did you scrap?"

"Three, as far as I could tell," Mouse piped up. "But I think there were more. Looked like they were coming out of some kind of… I dunno, maintenance alcove? Over on the far wall." He jerked his chin in the direction of the back of the room, now lost in shadow.

Charlie blew out a breath, nodding. "Okay. Okay, we can't stay here then. Sooner or later more are gonna come to investigate, and I don't fancy our chances in a stand up fight." A glance up at the silent banks of servers surrounding them. "Did you pull a backup of the files?"

"Sure did." Mouse tapped a gloved finger against the plastek of the case still clutched tight to his chest. "Everything I could grab before they spiked the connection. Dunno if it'll be enough to reconstruct the whole dataset, but it's a damn sight more than we had when we walked in."

Charlie set her jaw. "It'll have to be enough. C'mon, we're burning moonlight." She cast about for her discarded weapon, stooping to retrieve it with a grimace of pain. The barrel was warped and pitted from the heat of her wild full-auto burst, but the action seemed to still cycle smoothly enough. It'd do, for now. She thumbed the release for the side panel, a final once-over by touch assuring her that nothing vital had been damaged. Good enough for government work.

They moved out at a cautious pace, Charlie on point with Mouse and Jay watching the flanks. The room's layout seemed to shift and distort as they picked their way through the carnage of shattered machinery and twisted cybernetic limbs, shadows bleeding together into a disorienting haze. Or maybe that was just the blood loss talking.

They reached the far wall without incident, the hulking forms of the alcoves looming out of the murk. As Mouse has said, they looked like they'd been designed to house the security machines - heavily reinforced, with thick power and data conduits snaking into each. A quick peek inside revealed them to be empty, the soft amber stand-by lights winking at them mockingly.

"They must've been activated remotely when the system detected an intrusion," Mouse mused, half to himself. "Some kind of rapid-response unit. Probably high-value priority targets for the Towers."

"Yeah? Well they can fuck right off," Charlie spat. "I've got high-value priorities of my own, and none of them involve getting diced by the Tower's pet murder-bots." She shouldered past him, stepping over the tangled ruin of what had probably been an access panel once upon a time. The corridor beyond was as featureless as the one that had led them here - just more matte gray bulkheads and sullen crimson emergency lighting.

Time to get moving. They only had another 20 minutes before the Tower reset, and Charlie wasn't looking forward to becoming a red stain pressed between two concrete blocks.

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1332

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Time-activated quirks are rare. Izuku knows, he’s studied many. He was fascinated by the logistics the first time he read about one in the news. The quirk usually being transferred by some physical touch or substance from the user- slowly dissolving into the victim like a pill. 

Pro hero Buzzkill has a quirk that gives its victim a bee sting-like welt every four and a half minutes. The vigilante Combo Breaker has a quirk that breaks one of its victim's fingers every two minutes. 

And apparently, the villain he’d been fighting on patrol also shared this unique quirk factor. 

The debrief had said the guy was quirkless, but one look at the shoes on his feet told Izuku otherwise. 

Now, four hours and twenty-five minutes later, he’s lying on the floor of his kitchen unable to move. 

His nose is pressed at an uncomfortable angle, mere inches from where his coffee mug was smashed to pieces when he dropped it. 

He’d felt this odd pain in the base of his spine when he got off of patrol, and after his post-shift nap, it had only been higher up on his back and twice as intense. 

Apparently, when it got to his head, he was due to lose all motor functions. Great!

The good news is that Katsuki should be home any minute, and he can pull Izuku out of this cold, black coffee puddle. Maybe he’ll even put him back in bed if he’s feeling generous. 

He’s not sure how long he waits. His eyelids have drooped close, though he couldn’t open them if he wanted. He spends a while trying to determine if he’s breathing or not, but his whole body is so uncomfortably numb that he gives up. 

Soon enough, the door opens and Katsuki’s gym shoes are kicked off into their cubby. 

“‘M home.” He grumbles, probably not expecting an answer because Izuku is usually still napping when Katsuki gets back from his morning gym run. 

Izuku isn’t sure what Katsuki notices first, maybe his socked feet lying on the ground, or the bits of red, blue, and yellow ceramic that probably skidded across the room. 

“Deku? Did you fuckin’ fall?” His husband scoffs, rounding the corner to see Izuku sprawled on the floor, “Oi, get up dumbass.” 

Izuku mentally winces, not prepared for the absolute earful Katsuki is going to give him later. 

Katsuki walks closer, nudging the broken pieces of mug away, “Izuku?” 

Ah, he’s anxious. 

Izuku might’ve predicted this issue if he had thought a little harder. He’s not in any real danger, so there’s no need to worry-

“Izuku?!”

But he doesn’t know that. 

“No come on,” Katsuki mumbles out loud, trying to reason logically like Izuku knows he does when he’s scared, “he hit his head and passed out- no, there’s no blood. He was tired? Maybe he wanted to sleep on the floor…”

Katsuki comes up behind him and drops to his knees, rolling Izuku over. 

Light flashes in front of his eyes, but he’s powerless to blink at the sudden flash. Katsuki curses when his head flops back and smacks the tile. Stars fly across the black of his eyelids. 

“Izuku, wake up.” Katsuki presses his fingers under Izuku’s jaw and curses. 

There’s no way this quirk stopped his heartbeat- right?!

Katsuki pries one of his eyelids open. The cool air burns but he doesn’t flinch. 

His pupil must not react either, because before he knows it Katsuki is tugging him into his arms with a frantic whimper and launching himself across their living room. 

Katsuki places a leg in between Izuku’s own and wraps one of his arms under Izuku’s shoulders so he can use the other to propel them into the sky. 

The wind whistles by Izuku’s ears as Katsuki wastes no time getting them to what he can only assume is the hospital a few blocks away. 

The strain his arm must feel right now can only be extremely painful but Katsuki makes no sign of it. 

Izuku can feel them descending, just as Katsuki’s grip on him begins to slip. Katsuki stumbles a bit on the ground, lurching forward but being sure to keep Izuku’s body in his solid grip. 

“HEY!” He shouts as soon as they step through the sliding doors of the emergency bay, “I NEED A DOCTOR NOW!”

“Sir please don’t-”

“Pro hero Dynamight!” Another nurse interrupts the first, rushing towards them, “What are his vitals?”

Izuku feels himself get flipped onto a gurney, lying face up on the cold, thin fabric. He can feel everything down to his hair follicles itching to form goosebumps. 

He hears the nurse gasp as soon as his hair falls out of his face. 

I might be wearing pajamas, but I’m still the number one hero, he figures. I’d recognize All Might in his pajamas.

“Is that-”

“Someone who needs a fucking doctor?!” Katsuki growls, “YES.” 

The nurse barks a few orders at her coworkers and, from what Izuku can tell, sprints with him down the hallway. 

“Vitals?”

“No.”

The cart shudders when she briefly trips, “N-No? What do you mean-”

“I mean he wasn���t fucking responsive. I came home and he was on the fucking floor. No pulse, no breathing, no pupil dilation.” Katsuki’s voice moves to his other side, and there’s more movement before Izuku is lifted over to a different bed. 

The nurse hooks a machine up to him to start pumping his chest while she darts around him, checking various other vitals. 

“Shit.” She whispers to herself, pressing her warm hands into his wrist harder. 

Someone slams open the door, running to Izuku’s side. His hearing blurs while they yell orders at each other, pricking Izuku with various needles. 

“C’mon.” A new, higher-pitched male voice grunts in his ear as what he can assume is a shot of adrenaline is pumped into his fresh IV. 

“You said you found him like this?” Another female voice asks, farther in the corner of the room where he figures Katsuki is watching. 

“He passed out, there’s no obvious trauma. I have no fucking idea why.” Katsuki grunts, voice warbling. “He was on patrol a few hours ago but there was nothing in the report that would warrant this.”

“It’s not looking…” She pauses, “It’s not ideal, but we can’t rule out the possibility of it being a quirk.”

“Nothing is rousing him. We can keep the compressions going, but his body isn’t showing postmortem symptoms. I think, truly, if he comes back it will be regardless of what we do.”

Katsuki sighs, “I’m going to call his mom. Take the machine off him, she shouldn’t see him like this.”

Izuku’s head jostles as they remove the machine, his chest already feeling the ache and forming bruises. 

The nurse clamps a heart rate monitor onto his finger and leaves his side, rolling whatever monstrosity of a contraption they had waiting for him on a cart out of the room. 

It’s completely silent for a few minutes, not even the usual steady beep of his heart that he associates with the hospital to keep him company. 

The door swings open and footsteps move towards his side. 

He knows it’s Katsuki as soon as their hands touch. 

His husband’s warm hands cup his own, rubbing circles into his skin. 

“If you die on a random ass fucking Thursday morning when you’re not even working I’ll make sure they send you to whatever hell exists for idiots like you.” 

Izuku laughs inwardly, enjoying Katsuki’s touch. 

“Shitty prank. You broke your favorite mug.”

Ah damn, he forgot about that. 

Katsuki’s hair tickles his forearm as the man presumably leans down, pressing his lips to Izuku’s inner wrist, “If you leave me I’ll never forgive you.” He stretches a hand over Izuku’s stomach, resting it on his soft sleep shirt. “I love you, I don’t tell you nearly enough.”

“Come back to me, Izuku.”

And Izuku wishes more than anything that he knew how.

[rednightmar3]

HALLOWEEN (PT 2)

tw: panic attack

“Time starts now!” They heard Axl yell from outside the door, and Duff turned to Slash. “So, Shirley. Nice to meet ya.” Slash giggled, trying to sound as girly as possible as he replied, “Hey, Duffy. You’re a cutie, aren’t ya?” He slurred his words, trying to sound drunker than he already was, as he had stolen from Axl’s stash of the hard stuff. Duff was so fuckin’ thankful for the darkness to cover his face, as he was sure it was bright red. “You ain’t too bad yourself, Shirley. Say, how ‘bout after all this shit is over we head back to my place?” Slash cracked, laughing as quietly as possible. “I can’t take this seriously, dude I’ve gotten hit on so fuckin’ much tonight!” Duff instantly felt jealous, but tried not to let it creep into his voice as he responded.

“You still gonna catcall those chicks at school now?” He could feel the wind as Slash vigorously shook his head, practically yelling when he said, “Hell no! That shit is terrible! It made me feel all horrible inside, and I was literally doin’ nothing! I was just wandering around and had my ass grabbed three times! Man, I’m gonna go and personally apologize to all those girls.”

Duff smiled, even knowing Slash couldn’t see him in the darkness of the closet. He sat down, hearing and feeling Slash sit next to him. “Do you know how much time we have left in here, pretty boy?” Slash asked, running his hand up and down Duff’s arm. Duff tried not to start freaking out at the nickname, and the touch, and shakily replied, “Uhm, I don’t know.” Slash definitely noticed, leaning closer to Duff’s face and tracing his hand up and down his arm, moving his other hand to his knee. “Nervous?”

“Just a tad, being alone with a pretty girl like you.” Duff tried to play along, hearing Slash giggle and his smile being the brightest thing in the room. “You have a pretty smile,” Duff said, being fully honest. Slash dragged his hand up his thigh, squeezing it slightly. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Duff felt his face heat up, and to match Slash’s energy he hesitantly placed his hand on Slash’s thigh. Slash just laughed softly, and Duff was trying to read into his every action. He paused, realizing that their time in the closet had to be nearly up, and since he would never be this close to Slash again and he would never be this fucked up again while being this close to him, he closed the gap and kissed Slash.

He felt Slash’s mouth part in a surprised gasp, before pulling away quickly. He removed his hands from Duff and scooted away slightly.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“Was… uh, was that still acting?” Duff could hear the apprehension creeping into Slash’s voice and quickly tried to dissolve the situation but genuinely could not get any words out. He felt the air leaving his lungs and he didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear land on his cheek.

Duff opened his mouth to try and apologize, but all he could manage was a strangled sob. “Are you okay, man? I’m not mad, I just-” He was cut off by the door flying open, and Axl’s silhouette being the only buffer from the bright lights from outside. “Alright love birds- woah, Duff, you alright?” Duff tried to pull a hand up to cover his face, but was stuck, frozen to the spot. He watched other people crowd around the doorway, but could only bring himself to focus on Slash’s breathing from beside him. He shut his eyes and managed to squeak out, “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

He matched his breathing to Slash’s next to him, which while it was still fast it was at least slower than Duff’s and it was something to grab onto. He hesitantly opened his eyes, and managed to get his feet under him. He stood up slowly, but then ran out of the closet. Before he turned to the stairs, he stole a glance back at Slash.

He was still sitting on the floor, watching Duff run out of there with a confused expression on his face. He was softly touching his lips, his mind going a million miles per hour.

Why the fuck did I enjoy that? I’m not gay, I’m not gay, Duff is your best friend, you’re not gay for him. It’s not gay to kiss your homies! Even if I’m wearing drag right now, it doesn’t make me gay.

Right?

Duff sprinted past the guys on the stairs, ignoring their lazy grabs at his ankles and turned down the hallway. He’d been to Axl’s before, he knew this house. He opened the door he knew was the bathroom, but seeing it was already occupied by a group of girls he shut the door and moved on. Duff opened another door, this led to a guest bedroom but panicked when he saw two people absolutely going at it. Actually, he was pretty sure it was Steven and Adriana, so he moved on.

He flung open the door to a different bedroom, probably a spare and heaved a sigh of relief that it was empty. He closed the door, not bothering to lock it as he crumpled to a heap at the end of the bed. He let sobs consume him, hugging his arms and knees close to his body.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.”

He repeated this, almost like a mantra as he cried. He could feel his head beginning to hurt as the sobs continued to rack his body, and tried his best to stop but it only made it worse. He couldn’t get his breathing under control, trying all the methods he had been taught but none of them seemed to work.

He had a stupid song stuck in his head, and it was all he could hear as he tried his best to calm down. Suddenly, it all stopped. He stopped crying, he stopped breathing, and he stopped shaking uncontrollably. This moment lasted for a few seconds before Duff screamed in pain, burying his face in the blankets and shaking pathetically as the sobbing came back. He wrapped his arms and legs as close as he possibly could, his weeping turning into screaming as he struggled to calm down. The shaking came back, worse than before, and he could only repeat a useless breathing technique to himself to hang on to something.

“One, two, three, four-” he couldn’t complete it, stuttering on the word four before breaking down again. He looked up at the clock, then back at the door wishing he were home. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself calm just a bit before crying out again.

This seemingly endless cycle continued for what seemed like hours, but only a few minutes had passed before Duff heard a quiet knock on the door. “Duff?” Slash’s voice was muffled and Duff felt himself tense up at the sound of it. He bit his hand, trying not to scream but a strangled cry still made its way out of his mouth as the door was slowly opened. Slash stood in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of him. “Shit, Duff,” he rushed forward, remembering to shut the door before stopping just in front of Duff.

“Can I?” His hand hovered over Duff’s shoulder, and Duff just continued sobbing into the blankets, no response. Slash rested his hand on Duff’s shoulder, running it up and down his arm while he sat next to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re gonna be okay.”

Duff continued to shake, but his sobs were becoming less violent. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his breath hitching as he said it. Slash shook his head, rubbing his arm. “No, please don’t apologize, I’m not mad, it’s okay.”

Duff looked up at Slash, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Really?” Slash nodded, but Duff was still crying. He needed to distract him, and he suddenly knew exactly how as soon as he recognized the song playing downstairs. “Hey, Duff, what do you know about Led Zeppelin?” Duff lifted his head, turning his gaze to the door. “Oh, I know this song. Man, I love Led Zeppelin…” Duff started to talk on and on about them, and eventually his tangent led to other bands and Slash joined in when he could, trying to keep the conversation going.

About five or so minutes had passed from them talking, and Duff seemed to have calmed down a considerable amount but he would still occasionally stop what he was saying and stare into space and take a deep breath before continuing. Eventually, Duff sat up and stretched, locking eyes with the clock. “My mom’s gonna kill me but I can’t drive home this late.” Slash wanted to offer him a ride, but he then remembered all of the alcohol consumption that had taken place that night and didn’t bother to bring it up. “Should I just sleep here? Axl won’t care, I used to practically live here.” Duff looked back at Slash, and Slash just shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Duff threw off his shoes, and climbed into the bed. He slid off the tutu and tights from under the blanket, still wearing boxers, and tore off the gloves and tiara. He watched as Slash stood, walking to the door. “Is there anything you need?” Duff was gripped by panic yet again, imagining being alone again and opened his mouth to ask Slash to stay but instead of an actual request all that came out was a timid, “Stay.” Slash turned, reaching to take off his jacket. “Are you sure?” Duff nodded, watching as Slash stripped to as little clothing as Duff was wearing, and slid into bed next to him.

“This is like the sleepovers we used to have,” Slash said, turning to face Duff. Duff smiled, agreeing and admiring his face. They laid there for another minute or so until Slash drifted off first, leaving Duff awake and alone with his thoughts.

I don’t think he cares, but I do. I don’t want to have ruined our friendship, even if I’m the one who’s acting differently.

Duff watched Slash’s breathing, slow exhales and inhales. He just looked at his face, noticing small details before turning to his back, instantly feeling awkward.

A wave of exhaustion hit Duff, and he turned back to his side, facing Slash again. “That was my first kiss,” he whispered, shutting his eyes and blocking out his view of Slash. “I’m sorry.” The word barely left his lips as exhaustion consumed him and he fell into a blanket of sleep.

[briefunknownnerd]

Thank you all so much for the love and support on the prologue of my story!!

The first chapter is posted on my Ao3, so I thought I’d post it here too to get a bit of traction :)

Let me know if the link doesn’t work!

Thank you so much. I love you all

Ems <3

Simon was used to the dark. He embraced it, the familiar shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. And that was how he found himself on the roof of the barracks, a cigarette balanced delicately between his gloved fingers. The base was quiet, most of its attendants sleeping save for the measly patrols that didn’t give two shits about anything. To be fair, it was almost three in the morning. Simon knew if he was on night shift he wouldn’t care either- because he had been on night shift for a long, long time before being promoted.

It was fucking freezing outside, but that didn’t stop the wraith. He took in a long drag, watching the moon and the twinkling stars. Maybe the cigarette smoke would finally kill him, he thought. He always figured suffocation or lung cancer would be a painful death but drowning, he heard, was something more peaceful. Maybe it was the same? His thumb fingers the small round cog on the lighter, making lame sparks which, besides the glowing red tip of his cigarette, was the only light up on the roof.

The smoke blew out in a white puff from his mouth and nose, the wind dissolving it as soon as it exited him. His blond hair ruffled, and Simon tugged his hood on, drawing the hoodie strings just a little tighter. He knew he looked like a proper idiot, but fuck it, his ears were cold and he was all alone.

As he gazed back out, wondering what might have been all the way out at the end of the universe- if there was an end- a shooting star arced across the vast night sky. Simon had half of a mind to make a wish. But, wishes were for children, he decided, and his childhood had ended at the ripe age of eight.

Taking another puff, he reached the end of his cigarette, and stubbed it out on the concrete ledge in front of him. It went out easily, a small hiss escaping the cancer stick. Another shooting star appeared, and he rolled his eyes.

“Must be a fuckin’ meteor shower or something,” he grumbled. “Stupid fucking stars.” He turned on his heel, pushing the roof access door open. He silently slunk down the stairs, keeping to the shadows. His safe places.

He got back to his room in the barracks after sneaking around empty, eerie hallways that were lit with blinding fluorescents where even he couldn’t find a hiding spot.

His room was decorated painfully plain, with only a pair of black curtains hanging above the only window in the small space. Simon locked the door and kicked off his combat boots, sighing with delight. He pulled his socks off, and tossed them in the direction of his closet- he would pick them up in the morning.

Simon made his way to the en suite bathroom he had- the perks of being a Lieutenant- and turned the shower on to scalding hot. Once steam started to billow out of the showerhead only when he stripped, not bothering to inspect himself in the mirror.

He knew what he looked like, and he frankly didn’t care.

Simon groaned as the hot water washes over his sore muscles, head tilting back to embrace the warmth.

He stood there for a few minutes, letting himself slowly relax under the water. And in those moments, the world faded away to nothing.

It was him, in perfect solitude. No missions, no expectations, and no rookies to train. No fighting, no war, no guns. No monsters, or hybrids, or humans. No angels, or anything else he didn’t understand. Just him and his thoughts, and the occasional tune he would hum quietly.

Simon washed his hair, and his body, washed and shaved his face, and sat in peace and quiet for a little longer until the water started to run cold.

And once it did, he shut the water off and stepped out onto the bath rug that had his feet imprinted on it from using it so many times.

He took the towel and dried his hair off first. Then, his body. Once he was done he wrapped the towel around his waist and took two quick steps to the vanity. He took a baby wipe- he couldn't stand thinking of buying himself makeup wipes- and removed the rest of the eye black that his face wash had missed.

He brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair in a lame attempt to tame it, before rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash. After he spit, he went out to his room to dress for bed: only underwear and basketball shorts for him. Simon threw his towel back into the bathroom; it could be used for another time or two before he would need to wash it.

He collapsed into bed with a sigh and his bed creaked loudly, plugged his phone in and double-checked to make sure his alarm was set for the next day.

He laid on his back, eyes closed as he tried to fall asleep. But the moon seemed to race past in the night sky, and before he knew it, the sun had come up.

Simon turned his alarm off before it even had the chance to go off. Groaning, he got out of bed, and stumbled into his bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He dressed, and went to one of the rec rooms to grab a cup of tea. His teammates were waiting for him. Gaz, the harpy-shifter, Soap, the werewolf, and Price, the dragon-shifter.

“Morning,” Price said, clearing his throat as he sipped his coffee. Ghost merely gave him a grunt in acknowledgement, going to the sink so he could put water in the kettle to boil. Grabbing a mug, Simon plunked a tea bag into it, and waited. God, he hated mornings. Everything was too bright, too sunny, too… cheerful. He watched as his teammates conversed, chuckling as they talked about the events of yesterday, and what the day might bring.

Simon poured the now boiling water into his mug, watching as the small plastic-y bag turned the water brown with its contents.

For a split second, he wished he was normal like them.

Dunking his bag in the water a few more times, he blew on the scalding hot water, and took a small sip. He snapped himself back into reality knowing that never, at least not in his lifetime, that he would ever be considered normal. Accepting it, he leaned back against the counter and joined the conversation- only adding bits and pieces here and there- about what training they were going to do with the new recruits.

[separatist-apologist]

Neon In The Nighttime

Summary: It's the end of the word as we know it. A west coast baker and the drummer of a metal band team up in Boston, MA thinking they're one of the last few people left alive after a viral outbreak turns those infected into blood hungry monsters.

Their destination: Los Angeles, California- the last place Lucien's eldest brother was living while gearing up for a presidential run. Lucien is desperate to escape the memories of his past life and what he had to do when his wife, Jes, became infected. Elain wants to try and reclaim the fractured pieces of the life she remembers before everything went to hell.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3

Thank you @corcracrow for the moodboard

Elain thought it was a terrible idea to open the door given they didn’t know if this even was Tamlin. It seemed cruel to keep him out in the dark, though, and crueler still to have that conversation while Tamlin could hear. And Lucien looked so happy to see his friend that Elain remained silent as Lucien stumbled into the night and pulled the blonde man into a rough embrace.

“How the fuck—” Lucien’s question dissolved into a joyful laugh as Tamlin clapped him on the back.

“I didn’t get far,” Tamlin’s rich timbre replied. His expression was lost to the nighttime, though Elain swore she heard a smile. “Fuckin’ Indiana.” 

Elain twisted as Tamlin climbed into the back, his eyes falling on her while carefully pushing their supplies to the side. “What happened to Jes?”

Lucien slammed the door a little too roughly. “She didn’t make it. This is Elain. We’re…”

“Friends,” Elain finished for him, sparing Lucien from having to say anymore. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Tamlin was handsome and young—maybe five years older than Lucien. He looked well-fed and healthy which Elain supposed was a blessing in a world ravaged by a virus. 

“Lucky you two found each other,” Tamlin said with ease, reclining back in the cab. “Need a place to crash for a day or two?”

Lucien and Elain glanced at each other. They had gas tanks in the back of their car, as well as other things that were valuable in a world without currency. Elain didn’t want to be the one to tell Tamlin no given Lucien’s history, but she didn’t want to stay in Indiana, either. 

“Maybe for the night,” Lucien agreed, his tone cautious. If Tamlin caught it, he didn’t betray any discomfort.

“Alright, cool. At least take a break from running. Have you seen any infected?”

“A few,” Lucien told Tamlin after getting instructions on where to go. Straight to New Fort Wayne just a mile up the road. They might have stopped anyway, might have run into Tamlin organically by sheer chance. 

“I haven’t seen one in months,” Tamlin told them, leaning between their two seats. “Are they rotting?”

Elain closed her eyes, not wanting to remember those bodies tripping mindlessly into an elevator shaft. Lucien gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles bled white, hiding the calluses and cuts from the steel cable they’d climbed down. 

“Yes.”

Tamlin read enough in Lucien’s tone not to ask a follow up question. Instead, he provided instructions, turning them from the interstate down a dark, winding road that led to gravel, and then dirt. Hidden among the trees in a place no one would look unless they knew what it was they were trying to find, lay a fence eight feet high and made of wood and curling barbed wire over the top.

There was no getting in…and as they pulled through open gates, Elain wondered if there was any getting out. Lucien must have thought the same thing because he asked, “Do we ask to leave in the morning?”

“I’ll let you out,” Tamlin replied with that easy smile. “Whenever you’re ready. This isn’t a prison—it’s just a little commune of survivors.”

That did little to ease Elain’s anxiety, especially when Tamlin so casually added, “We separate men and women. I’ll have to wake—”

“No.” Lucien’s voice silenced them both as he parked his car in the grass. “Elain stays with me.”

Tamlin shifted. “There are rules–”

“She stays with me.”

Tamlin cleared his throat, clearly trying to figure out what was going on. “You two are friends—”

“She’s with me. That’s all anyone needs to know,” Lucien told Tamlin, not daring to look at either of them. “If you have to separate us, then it was good to see you, Tam. Really. But I think we’ll keep heading west.”

“Don’t—” Tamlin took a breath before looking at Elain. “You two can stay together. We’re trying to minimize unnecessary risk, that’s all.”

Elain could read well enough between the lines. They were trying to keep children from being born without careful and thoughtful planning. That made sense to her, and still she was grateful Lucien had insisted they wouldn’t be separated. 

Elain didn’t move until Lucien pulled open her car door, grabbing her hand like Tamlin was going to snatch her away. Tamlin watched, too, his expression unreadable in the dark.

“C’mon,” he finally said, gesturing for them both to follow him. Lucien slung his arm around Elain’s shoulder, too possessive to be casual. As if anyone was going to try and steal her…and yet,

Elain appreciated Lucien’s willingness to stake a claim at all. It meant he wasn’t going to abandon her for Tamlin, which she’d been privately afraid of the minute Lucien leapt from the car to greet his old friend. 

Tamlin led them down an immaculate path into a clearing that, much to Elain’s surprise, was lit up. Lucien, too, paused to take in the rows of wood-built houses that reminded her a little of an eighteenth century suburban neighborhood. But the electricity and the sound of whirring blades made Elain pull from Lucien’s grasp.

“How is this possible?” Lucien asked. Tamlin chuckled, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“We don’t need big companies telling us how to live. I’ll show you in the morning, if you want. For now, I’ve got a place for the two of you.”

“Is there hot water?” Elain found herself asking. Maybe they could stay, if only for the sake of a scalding shower. She still thought of the rusty taps from Ohio that she’d been so grateful for, even if it had been frigid river water. 

“Yes,” Tamlin said, his handsome face made all the more so by that easy smile. “Lots of hot water. And clean clothes, if you want them.”

God, Elain did. She wondered if he recognized her own outfit having come from his closet. Elain stepped a little closer to Lucien, because she still didn’t trust Tamlin, and followed down the neatly laid stone path all the way to the edge of the fence. Lucien was clearly marking their way, though they had a car and could probably force their way through the front gates if they really wanted to.

“There is food in the morning, and no rush to leave. I’m just—it’s good to see a familiar face,” Tamlin told Lucien before handing over a little key. They stood at the bottom of a well-built wooden porch looking at each other. It wasn’t trust, especially on Elain’s end, but there was something especially potent about recognizing another face.

It was easy to feel alone, isolated. Tamlin had a whole community here, people Elain was dying to see in the morning, if only to prove to herself more than just her and Lucien had survived. And if Tamlin was normal, she didn’t see why they couldn’t stay for a little while. Not settle down, but maybe try and relax for the first time since the world went to hell.

“There are towels inside. I’ll have some things left on the porch for you. If you need anything else, just yell.”

And that was that. Lucien and Tamlin hugged one more time, the sort of one-armed, back slapping hug men liked to do. Elain raised a hand, offering a half-hearted wave. He gave one right back, that smile returning before he ducked off and left. Lucien sighed, his own smile slipping at whatever he found in Elain’s expression. 

“Are you happy?” Elain asked him while Lucien slid the metal key into the lock.

“I’m not sure yet,” Lucien admitted, his voice low. “If he gives a place to stay and they let us go, yes.”

“And if this is some insane cult—”

“I’m sure it is,” Lucien interrupted, pushing open the door and beckoning for her to follow him in. “Probably a sex cult, from what I remember about Tam.”

“Really? He had that sort of charisma?”

Lucien chuckled. “Well–no. But he’s got…you know, his face. And he was a rockstar. You don’t have to work so hard when you’re good looking and talented.”

And before she could argue that, Lucien flipped a switch on the wall. Light flooded the room, rendering them both speechless. 

“Wow,” Elain whispered, turning to look at Lucien in the light. Ordinarily, Elain would have sworn Lucien had a soft glow to him, neon even at night. But here, Lucien was practically the sun, Elain a swaying flower desperate for a little warmth.

“Thank you,” she told him, forgetting for a moment he was just her friend. She felt so starry eyed, drinking in his lovely face. Lucien, utterly unaware he was the subject of her fascination, furrowed his brows. 

“For…?”

Right. Get it together. “Asking for us to stay together.”

Lucien cleared his throat. “I just ah…worried.”

“Yeah,” she agreed hastily. “That’s why I said thank you.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lucien nodded toward the dark hall. “Want to check out the bedrooms?”

Elain thought that was rather optimistic of Lucien, given the size of the house, and was proven right. The hall was little more than three steps, opening into a bedroom that smelled strongly of cedar. The bed itself was small, draped in white linens that matched the curtain along the window. Another door opened into a small bathroom that had, to Elain’s relief, a working toilet and a tub that filled with water. 

Lucien hadn’t moved from the hall, still staring at that bed. Dread filled Elain’s stomach. “Lucien?”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, unable to meet her eye. “Just…give me a second? I’m gonna grab something from the truck.”

Pace around as he wondered if he was betraying his wife, more like it. Elain nodded, though, thumbing toward the tub. “I’ll take the first bath then, if you don’t mind.”

“Go for it.” Said, staring straight at his shoes. Great. She’d just admired his face, she hadn’t wanted to undress him. Lucien was imagining too much, and when he turned abruptly, leaving her to her bath, Elain felt a little measure of relief. He wasn’t the only one grappling with things, she thought in annoyance. Thinking he was handsome and wanting to see him naked were two different things, besides.

He was her friend, and maybe that was why it stung. Did he see her as a friend at all?

Elain pondered that for so long, by the time she’d talked herself out of her worries, the water had become frigid.

She hadn’t even noticed.

LUCIEN:

“Knew I’d found you out here,” Lucien lied, making his way back to where he’d parked his truck. A few yards off stood Tamlin, staring up at the sky.

“I had to give up smoking,” Tamlin admitted ruefully, pushing his shoulder off a rough tree. “Still like being out here, though.”

“Yeah,” Lucien agreed. This was the perfect distraction from Elain, with her big brown eyes and her too trusting expression. He felt like a bastard—and not just on her behalf, but Jes’s too. The thoughts he’d had, though…Lucien knew he was better off burying them.

Elain was his friend. His incredibly beautiful friend, and nothing more. 

“What’s going on with you and…”

“Elain,” Lucien finished, exhaling softly. “We met after Jes…” fuck he couldn’t do this. “Anyway, we’re heading toward California.”

“For the cure?” Tamlin asked, utterly blowing Lucien’s mind. “I heard that’s up in Seattle now. At least, that’s where they were heading—”

“Whoa, slow down. What cure?”

“Two scientists and a doctor came through her….eight months ago?” Tamlin began, scrunching his face as he tried to remember. “Maybe they were military. Anyway, they claimed they had a cure—it can’t bring anyone who has been infected back, but it keeps the virus from…whatever it does. They’d been discussing going to Seattle instead of Los Angeles because they’d heard there was a larger human commune up there.”

“I…I never heard any of this.”

“Most people leaving east end up here. So I hear a lot,” Tamlin informed him with a too-knowing look. One that said, you could stay, too. Oh, how Lucien could imagine it. And it was imagining that slow, domestic life that made Lucien feel so guilty again. 

“Tell me the truth. Is this a sex cult?”

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed. “Not anymore,” he choked, hands on his knees. “No one would have fucked your girl, by the way. I know you were thinking it, but we take that really seriously here.”

“She’s with me,” Lucien said, ignoring the way his stomach clenched every time he declared Elain was with him—she’s mine, she belongs with me—

“I’m sorry about Jes,” Tamlin said, perhaps guessing Lucien’s thoughts. “I always really liked her.”

Lucien thought about what Elain said—-that Jes hadn’t felt anything when he killed her. She’d been gone long before he got home, and all he could hope now was that it had been relatively painless. That her last thoughts had been of him.

That she’d known how much he loved her. 

“What about the guys?” Lucien asked, trying to remember their names. “Bron…Hart…and—”

“Andras,” Tamlin said, his expression gloomy. “Gone.”

Lucien knew better than to ask if Tamlin had been the one to dispatch them. Let them have these little secrets while they try to heal and try to rebuild.”

“So no to the sex cult?”

Tamlin laughed again. “No sex cult. I wish it was a sex cult. No, it functions more like a little town…if a town had a board of directors, I guess. We’re governed by a majority that get elected once a year. But honestly, we don’t have many problems anymore. Not since that fire.”

Lucien raised his brows but Tamlin only shook his head, jaw set. 

“And you separate men and women—”

“Too many babies that first year,” Tamlin said quickly. “We aren’t equipped for that. I know it’s kind of fucked, but…we lost a lot of women, too. We didn’t have anyone who knew how to deliver babies or what to do when shit went sideways, so we separated everyone. It works a little better…and we found a fuck ton of condoms which didn’t hurt. We’ve got Briar, too, who was a nurse so we’re moving toward integrating.”

“Sounds like a good set up,” Lucien agreed, ignoring how Tamlin’s eyes sharpened. He knew what was coming.

“It is. Fuck, man…it’s so good to see you. I haven’t seen anyone from…before. I know you and her and trying to get to California but there is nothing out there anymore. Who are you looking for, anyway?”

“Eris,” Lucien replied, earning a grimace from Tamlin. Eris was his brother and he cared for him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t blind to what the rest of the world thought of him. Eris had been a bastard, and Lucien didn’t think a global pandemic had done much to change that. 

“You know he’s probably—”

“Yeah, I know,” Lucien interrupted, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. 

“Stay with us. It’s safe here. I know it’s Indiana but…”

Lucien clapped a hand on Tamlin’s shoulder. “I’ll think about it. We’ll stay tomorrow at least. Get some rest, talk to people.”

A day without driving, without eating old, stale gas station food sounded like heaven, besides. “Good. Stay as long as you want. Real quick…Elain? What’s her last name?”

“Archeron. Why?”

Tamlin shook his head back and forth, a contemplative look on his face. “No reason. She just looked familiar. Have a good night.”

Lucien wasn’t sure if having a good night was possible. Tamlin melted away and Lucien dawdled, making his way to the truck as if he needed anything. Screwing around until exhaustion convinced him to go back, Lucien locked up and plodded toward the little cabin.

It wasn’t her fault that she was beautiful and it wasn’t her fault that he was attracted to her. Elain was his friend and Lucien didn’t want to push her away because he didn’t know how to deal with the guilt and want he felt. It would pass, he told himself. 

The house was lit up when he returned, and old habits convinced Lucien to walk through the little sitting room, with only a wood table and chairs for furniture, flipping off the lights as he went. The kitchen had what he hoped was a working stove and an oven he’d expect to see back in the eighteenth century.

Back down that little hall to the bedroom where Elain lay asleep, curled on her side. Tangled, damp curls spilled over her lovely face—beckoning him to brush them away. Sighing, Lucien took himself to the bathtub and washed himself quickly. The scalding water was, perhaps, the best thing he’d felt since the world went to shit.

“Lucien?” Elain’s voice from the darkened bedroom convinced him to crawl out.

“I’m coming,” he replied, groaning softly. “The water is hot.”

A pause, and then, “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Nice wasn’t the word he’d use, though it was good to hear the smile in her voice. 

“I cried a little,” Elain continued, her voice hoarse from sleep. “I can’t remember the last time my hair felt clean.”

“I know,” he joked, wringing his own out over the tub. “How is the bed?”

“Soft,” she said with a sigh. “Are you…?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

Lucien tugged his boxer briefs up over his hips, glancing at his jeans. He didn’t want to sleep in them again and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, either.

“Hey, Elain? Do ah…do you mind if I skip the clothes?”

Another pause. “Are you naked?”

Lucien ran a hand down his chest, heart thudding in his chest. “Mostly. Nothing obscene.”

“That’s fine. We should have asked Tamlin for a change of clothes before bed.”

Lucien raked a comb through his long hair quickly, towel drying it one last time before shoving it off his face. Turning off the light so not to assault her with his body, Lucien hurried quickly to the bed while Elain scooted comically to try and make room. As if she was the problem and not him. 

The top of Elain’s head hit his collar bones when they stood in front of each other. She was a small woman and though the bed was, too, it was Lucien who was eating up all the space. He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how they’d sleep without touching.

And then he gave up. Better to just lean into the closeness rather than admit it was weird. She’d slept on the couch beside him the night before, head on his shoulder. How was that any different? Lucien slid his arm around her middle, careful with where he put his fingers, and drew her away from the edge. 

Elain relaxed the moment her back hit his chest. “It’ll be easier this way,” he said, pushing her hair out of his mouth with his free hand. “And I miss…” Ah, fuck, he shouldn’t have said anything. 

Elain twisted to look at him. “Miss what?”

“Being close to someone,” he forced himself to say. “This is nice.”

Elain sighed, her breath warm against his neck. “The last person who touched me was trying to kill me.”

Lucien blinked away the urge to cry, nodding his head. “Me, too.”

Elain relaxed further into his hold, reaching for his hand until their fingers were interlaced. “How long are we going to stay here, Lucien?”

“A day,” he replied as he focused on just breathing. “Tamlin told me something. He said—” Lucien hesitated, knowing if he told her, Elain would want to go. Looking for a cure would mean giving up on Eris, on any shred of hope that someone he loved had survived. It meant starting over from the very beginning, creating a new life in this new world. 

There was no going back. He could lie to her and try and chase the past. But as Elain blinked those big, brown eyes up at him, Lucien had the most terrible feeling that she might hate him if she found out he’d kept this from her.

She might leave him. Elain and his past weren’t compatible. He couldn’t integrate them.

And Lucien knew he couldn’t go back. Even if he found Eris and the world went back to normal, he’d still be without his wife. He’d still have to carry the knowledge of what it had been like to kill her, to leave her body behind. 

Lucien had been moving purposelessly since everything went to shit. Even now, finding Eris was just a distraction—a last ditch hope that he’d wake up one day and this would all have been a dream. Lucien took a breath, his chest aching for all that he’d lost.

Even as his heart quickened at the thought of everything he might gain if he was just honest. 

“Tamlin said there’s a cure in the pacific northwest.”

Elain leaned up on her elbows, staring down at him. “What kind of cure?”

“It can't’ bring people who were infected back…but it keeps the virus from turning people into zombies.”

“Lucien,” she breathed, her eyes out of focus. “If that’s true…”

“I know.”

“We have to find it,” she said, just like he knew she would. “Lucien, if that’s true it means we’d be safe. We wouldn’t have to do so much running, I would—”

She stopped herself, but Lucien knew what she was thinking. She wouldn’t have to worry that one day she’d have to kill him. He hadn’t even considered that, but looking up at her, eyes shining with hope, he didn’t think he could. Even if it meant dying, too—Lucien couldn’t stomach the thought of killing another person.

“Tamlin thought it was up in Seattle. We’ll head that way and see if it's true.”

Elain settled back in his arms, head resting on his bicep. “I hope it is,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

Lucien breathed out a soft sigh. “I do, too.”

[blogofloathing]

A loud, cheesy anthem plays as an awful stylilized OCWE appears on a black and white TV screen

"Good belated myorning folks, I am your esteemed host! Gillian Barlows Jr! And you are watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire! Hyere to bring you the latest scyoop on the people of our great city! who are they? Why are they? When are they? How do they peel their y'apples? Let's find out nyow!"

A new fangled transition effect plays as Gillian gives an overly exaggerated shocked expression.

Approaching our first interviewee, Gygan Clarks of the Ocean City Watchful Eye, but it seems he isn't particularly excited to see us haha, wonder why.

Our trusty boom man sticks the mic in his face, at which Gygan looks visibly annoyed, sheesh you'd think we killed this guys business or something.

"What do you want Gillian" he spat, frankly I'm offended he would be so rude to a reporter!

My cameraman delivers the question after a discreet go ahead sign waved in his direction

"Look unless you think apples can make coffee taste better I'm not interested," Gygan hisses, and after a short pause mutters "with a pocket knife"

And indeed if the bulge in his pocket isn't due to seeing me, he carries said weapon on him.

Let's move on from this wannabe newsman before he gets violent! You know how those types are.

Grumbling to himself, something about "fuckin' trend hopping fast news pieces of-" haha anyway!

An apple shaped transition plays, and due to formatting issues doesn't properly disappear

•••

Our next guest went up to us herself upon hearing there was a survey, so give it up for.. Simone Chekhov! Of the S.I.T Robotics department—

Somehow interrupting this audio added in post, the girl fires up a seemingly long held rant.

"Well actually it's Robotechtronics there's a very subtle but important difference in the two fields but anyway I made a machine that peels them so precisely the skin dissolves in contact with the air due to being sliced at such a thin micromascopic level that their mololcules are-" a thin homeless girl sticks a thumbs up wildly behind Simone.

The video is suddenly stopped here due to space, a cartoonish image of sad Gillian giving a thumbs down is shown onscreen for a few seconds.

•••

we're sorry to cut this short but our camera ran plumb out of juice trying to record it all haha!

Though this did little to falter her one sided rant, even as we turned our attention away from her

Moving onto the aforementioned hobo (it's good to get a perspective from the less than fortunate.)

"OOO OOO you're gonna ask me a question! Give it here!" She jumps excitedly, the words slamming into our crew much in the same way she physically rammed into my mic man in her overzealousness

The dusty girl, who we made sure didn't touch any of our equipment, had been chittering something inane at Simone when we asked, somehow able to properly talk between each other rather than over.

"I dunno I just chomp em, see?" taking a playful bite out of her sour face, leaving a toothy mark.

... the sounds of crickets chirping has been added

"Agh! Victoria!" She expleted, wiping her face off with her sleeve, "that's gross- you're gross!"

Though Victoria didn't seem too bothered, a sly little grin making its home on her spotted face.

"Hey don't pretend ya didn't like it" she slithered, at which Simone gave her a rather hard smack on the head "and there's more where that came from!" The bespectacled girl tittered haughtily.

A tinny and muffled laugh track plays, as Gillian audibly clicks a tape recorder to start and stop

•••

Moving on from those, shall we say interesting, characters, our boom operator caught wind of some music playing a few blocks down.

And we followed the groovy tunes to their source, coming upon quite the cello fellow!

Who is contentedly playing his instrument, my team having to remind him of the question, "oh I just slice em up with my trusty pocketknife!" Holding it up for a second before going back to ringing out the tunes.

Looks to be the same kinda knife as that.. eh I forgot his name already.

I say someone should definitely toss that guy a quarter, not me though.

Really if he can afford a cello is he actually that poor I mean cmon- ah, I've been instructed by my cameraman to stop here.

A bubble and wave crashing sound effect plays too loudly, with a chintzy fade to black transition

•••

Taking a dip per sé, we find.. someone else to ask.

Attempting to avoid being seen, the oddly slimy fellow is hiding against a wall, but seeing as his clothes aren't the exact shade and texture of bricks, "I, I don't know what an apple is? please leave me alone.." he croaks out in a froggy tone.

"Would you like to try one?" My boom operator chipperly inquires, at which the still unnamed weirdo looks even more terrified of us than before

"N-no I'm good really I.." it trailed off, guess they make hobos different these days, I can't get a read on what this guy might be on the street to beg for.

"Cmon I'll get ya a fresh one" he says again, taking a step closer to it, making the thing jump loudly.

Before running away from my team in a lurch, leaving weird wet slappy footprints in his wake.

Well that was certainly productive, why don't we heed this guys words and move on to another!

A hexagon transition with a splat sound effect, it doesn't even fully segue, cutting halfway through

•••

At the urging of my team, we reluctantly almer over to a goblin for questioning, she seemed to be dancing animatedly.. or maybe boxing with the air?

"Hi! Yes yes Hello! To apples slicing? No no, Gabby is practicing see?" It said, nearly assaulting one of my cameramen, "Gabby is champion of the box!"

a goofy swirl sound effect and then a laugh track

We don't speak creature so I have no idea what any of that meant, I'd say we get out of here before that thing gets aggressive, I've heard the stories of these kinds of monsters being dangerous!

They're lucky they don't have rights or else we'd totally sue them for emotional damages.

a spooky transition effect plays, bats flying across the screen and a very poorly done witches laugh

•••

As we were making our way back to the studio, my mic man caught eye of some kinda hobo living in the alley, I insisted we don't interview something like that but who listens to me around here?

Walking up to her, I'm already less than enthused about her appearance, something in her eyes wasn't like it should be, they seemed to stare directly inside of us unlike anything.

"Hello ma'am how would you say you peel-" my other cameraman began, being cut off by her wheezily trilling poem, "peel? Peeling, skin peeling wallpaper off the wall, apples falling trees cutting"

I.. wow! Okay! That is not at all what any of us were expecting, all our hairs stood violently on end.

Like looking into the den of a wounded predator about to make a strike, protecting its wounds.

She stepped closer to us, gazing through us, it felt as though she saw more than just my skin.

"Apples and oranges" it felt as though she wasn't even talking to us, despite facing our direction.

No one bothered putting a transition effect here, the camera simply cuts right to the next scene

•••

aaaaand one last questioneer today folks! As we were wrapping up and dutifully wiping down and sanitizing our stuff to get all the filth off them, a distracted old guy bumped into us, and sooooo!

"Oh! Eh uh, I mostly just eat cheese" the weirdo said emphatically before forcing us to look at a horrible mass of aged milk madness, before reassuring us that "it's Käse Brezel! The finest in the city! If ya see me come and buy so-" yeah no

Sorry sir I don't even know what language you just spoke there but I can tell it ain't somethin I'm gonna be eating, especially from someone like you

Though my crew seems oddly interested in it, I'll have to show them what real food is like I guess,

gives me an excuse to hang out with those mooks.

anywho, our final stop of the day was a nice little cheese pretzel shop, the finest in the city!

An equally loud and somehow even cheesier little outro theme plays as we fade back onto Gillian

"Well thyank you all for tyuning in this fine after nyoon, we hope we could answer all of your deep byurning questions! As always I am your esteemed host; Gillian Barlows Jr! And you have been watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire, where we catch up the scyoop and throw it to your hyoop! See y'all nyext week with our next Q: how good is the government doing right now? ( A: pyerfect!)"

[mourningdewey]

as is customary for 4/20 , i am out of my mind zooted . that being said , here are my stoned thoughts on different fallout 4 characters as stoners . nonhumans are humanized because it's funny . think like- a college au ig . don't take this post too seriously please 😭🤚

Companions

ada: can take three blinkers off a cart and be fine , tbh she probably smoked a decent amount with her original crew

cait: ✨ seasoned stoner ✨ , doesn't smoke much anymore but she'll engage in the doing of some good zaza occasionally , makes fun of deacon for smoking to become poetic

codsworth: would vomit after even breathing in secondhand mary jane smoke from twenty feet away

curie: has smoked weed to test sciencey shit that she was curious about , has a decent tolerance

danse: has never smoked weed in his life . decided not to after being half-blinded by stepping into a hotboxed room

deacon: among the ✨ seasoned stoners ✨ , has a MAD TOLERANCE because he's depressed and uses pot to make himself more poetic , he smokes to forget but he always remembers

dogmeat: if you give your fucking dog weed you are awful please do not let the dog hit the bong

hancock: ✨🍃king seasoned stoner 🍃✨ , his bare minimum with pot would have any other humanbeing dead burned and buried , smokes with deacon and cait sometimes , provides others with that good zaza

maccready: smokes sometimes either to feel ... deep and edgy , or nothing at all . would shove all the weed in his mouth if the cops came knocking , chew it up , and swallow it . buys from only the fInest most credible dealers

nick: he smokes every once in a while for similar reasons to deacon (it makes him more poetic) , his weird fucking 50's detective coat flaps in the wind more dramatically when he's stoned (he's some weird cosplayer like hancock ... nobody knows what his deal is)

old longfellow: nah this man is on smth a lot stronger than pot 😭🤚 i remember nothing about him as a character but looking at him scares me

porter gage: he is constantly crossfaded . he needs to be to cope with the dumb fuckin edgy junkies he hangs out with . he's dumb and edgy and a junkie too though so ... hypocrite ass

preston: he coff coff 💨 ouchie lung hoit 💨 coff coff 🌬️ no more zaza for pressie (he literally just looked at a bong and greened out)

strong: don't let him anywhere near any drug the entire human race would be wiped out (don't ask how my brain is starting to fizz and dissolve)

NPC's

amari: she'll pass weed along for friends if they need her to but she isn't too into smoking it . carrington Might be able to convince her to join him for a joint but it's rare

arturo: he'll share his zaza with you 🥳 only really smokes on weekends or holidays to avoid issues during the week . it's just a nice relaxing thing he usually does on his own

desdemona: this poor woman is so fucking stressed someone pass her a bong and a bucket she can sobb into . she smokes with carrington . they're both so stressed they're barely sophomores in college and they have gray hairs

drummer boy: he gets so weepy when zooted like please look after him 😭 wrap him up in a blanket and don't let him think . talks big game about smoking but he'd pass out in a hotboxed room

carrington: his tolerance is godly . he's been so stressed his whole life that he smoked in HIGH SCHOOL how scandalous~ would end another person's life for a fat blunt

crocker: 💀 this fucking wackjob is trying to find a way to mix Adderall and weed . hancock thinks he might just be a genius and everyone else thinks he needs to be behind bars

fahrenheit: oh girl she hangs with hancock she's blazing it in a back alley on campus in the middle of class , has some silly bimbo girl friends she likes to smoke with

glory: smokes with deacon and drummer boy primarily . will make fun of drummer boy for being weepy but takes care of him (not cuz she cares abt him 🙄 he's just a little worm) if he gets too bad . also smokes with des but they're gay asf eww

ingram: smokes very rarely like on special occasions . she doesn't have time to drift off into zazaland on a regular basis

irma: classy lady who smokes the finest quality zaza because she can . gets really really flirty with amari while high . gets flirty in general while high tbh . somehow fully aware/grounded the whole time tho

jun long: he ALSO smokes to forget but he always remembers . idk even if he didn't have a son thag died i feel like this man is HAUNTED like he needs that bud to survive

kent connolly: oh no no no don't give him weed . no good for the good little man . no good at all he cannot have that . give him a comic book and have him wait in the hall

magnolia: she smokes weed rolled in fucking rose petals . she deserves it tbh . smokes with kleo , irma , and daisy . sometimes her , mac , and deacon will sneak out to smoke in the park

marcy long: thinks weed is for lazy bums with no ambition . she takes care of jun when he's zooted but lectures him later . she wouldn't be caught dead with weed anywhere on her

myrna: she's too uptight to have ever smoked weed ... she is sucha fucking square

percy: he needs weed to cope with myrna . she's like his bossy mean toxic girlfriend who thinks he's inferior to her or smth idk man where am i

sturges: 😇 he like zaza it make him head go bzzzzztTtt bZZzzzzzZt like an old flip phone vibrating . sometimes he comes up with really weird projects while stoned and then he tries make them

sun: if only he had TIME to get zooted fUCK . his dormmate is a headache and his classes are hell . he'd gladly join carrington and amari for a smoke sesh but he does not have that kinda spare time

teagan: doesn't usually smoke himself but he sells that shit in some covert operation at a burger king drive-thru

quinlan: he smokes to quiet his buzzing mind . he gets very opinionated when stoned . his cat cannot escape his zooted cuddles

zeke: eh he'll chainsmoke cigarettes but draws the line at weed . cuz it's just nOt cOoL ??? (sturges likes being friends with zeke but is too autistic to understand why the man does not like to feel like his head is being banged like a gong)

ok i know i missed a lot of characters but considering how many i put in here i hope i deserve a pass 😇😇😇 um but ueah i am starting to really drift into zazaland . which is great . i'm gonna sleep fuckin epic tonight

anyways please don't take any of this seriously i could hardly remember who half of these characters are

[luckyluan]

BRIMMENS MULTIVERSITY: TOUR DAY

FEB 23, 2024 – 11:48PM 

“What’s up, everybody? I’m Soleil!” The tall woman said. “Welcome to Brimmens Multiversity Tour Day #24! I’ll be your tour guide as we journey through our great school! Today is all about the history of Brimmens and your future here with us!” 

“Geez. I bet she’s a lot of fun at parties.” Carey murmured. 

Their tour guide was a young lady with an athletic build. Her bright pink eyes gleamed behind oversized cat eye glasses as she looked over her tour group. She wore a wine-colored sweatshirt covered in a wicked paisley print in hues of khaki, navy, emerald green, and a deeper purple De’Von could not place. The large khaki letters across her chest spelled “BRIMMENS MULTIVERSITY FOR SUPERNATURAL ARTS AND SCIENCES.” 

“...split into smaller groups assigned by field of choice, okay? Everybody ready? Off we go!” 

The small throng of people trudged off after Soleil who stepped lively down the wide path of burgundy bricks. The jovial Autumn air rustled through De’Von’s hair as he gawked at the collection of oddly shaped buildings in the distance. 

Brimmens was an enormous school. The multiversity claimed over one thousand acres of Morgan, Louisiana soil and was the largest structure—abnormal or mortal—in the state. De’Von had his Brimmens brochure committed to memory, but nothing prepared him to see the campus in person. 

“This place is fuckin’ huge.” Carey said. “We’re gonna be here ‘til Ordan returns to The Godlands.” 

“Shhh...” De’Von whispered. 

They ventured, quickly, through the first four colleges. Each school of study had its own ecosystem and was connected by the winding brick path. The college of Liberal Arts bore a stately design with tall, sculpted columns and bronze statues of famous poets and historians. The college of Social Science looked eerily like the buildings in the Nation's capital. 

“Does this look like The White House to you?” Carey asked. 

“I was thinking The Capitol, but yes. Just completely violet.” De’Von said. “Haven’t you been here before?” 

“Oh, a couple times.” Carey said. “But it’s always different. The campus changes every visit. You’ll see.” 

De’Von was admiring an ivory sculpture as two men rounded the corner. The men favored each other. Both were tall and broad-shouldered wearing cowboys made of moving clouds. Their fists were tucked neatly in the pockets of navy puffer vests with the Brimmens Logo emblazoned over the left chest in beige plaid. One of the men had a neat beard peppered with gray hair and the other had a neat fade of auburn hair with dancing gray eyes De’Von could make out from a safe distance. 

“Hey,” De’Von tapped Carey. “Who the hell is that?”  

De’Von jerked his head at the two men strutting toward them. They were in deep conversation flashing the same warm smile at each other. 

“Ooooh! That’s my godfather, Cable St. James and that’s his son—my play cousin--Sawyer St. James.” Carey explained. “Uncle Cable is the Commissioner of the Magical Artifact Reclamation Sector and their family founded St. James Mythic Rescue—huge farm for magical creatures.” 

“There’s a farm for magical creatures?” De’Von asked sarcastically. 

“Yes.” Carey said rolling his eyes. “Several, but the St. James farm is legendary. They’re also patrons of the school. The only reason Brimmens College of Magriculture exists is because Great Grand Papi St. James made a phone call.” 

“And the son?” De’Von mused. 

“Married.” Carey said sternly. “To a cop.” 

The St. James Men pulled up in front of them and the entire tour group dissolved into whispers. Cable St. James flashed a radiant smiled and the group sighed. 

“Greetings, all, and welcome to Brimmens Multiversity. We hope you find everything to your liking. My son and I are here today to thank you all for choosing our school to continue your abnormal education.” Cable St. James’s voice echoed. 

“Like you have a choice. It’s the only MBCU in the South.” Carey whispered. 

“Carey Blanchard.” Cable grinned. “I was wondering when you’d turn up.” 

The entire tour group turned to look at Carey whose eyes were on the bricks beneath his feet. De’Von turned his head from Cable St. James to Carey with his mouth open. 

“You were serious?!” De’Von whispered. 

Carey ignored his friend and plastered a wide smile on his face. 

“Hi, Commissioner St. James. Nice to see you again.” Carey said sheepishly. 

The small group parted as Cable moved toward them. De’Von watched bystanders put their heads together and whisper as he passed. The tall man stopped in front of them and clapped Carey on the shoulder.  

“Come now, my boy, no need for the formalities with my favorite nephew! Glad to have you here.”  

The crowd gasped as did De’Von. He knew Carey’s family was well connected, but he had no idea just how connected his best friend was. Cable saw De’Von staring and let out a laugh. 

“And who is this, nephew?” He asked Carey.  

“This is my best friend, De’Von, Unc. He’ll start at Brimmens in a couple weeks.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, De’Von...” Cable trailed off. 

“Damion. De’Von Damion.” De’Von stammered. 

A tremor shot up De’Von’s shoulder as Commissioner St. James’ strong grasp shook his arm. 

“A pleasure.” Cable said. “This is my son—Carey's cousin—Sawyer St. James.” 

Sawyer materialized at his father’s side. He tipped his hat to De’Von and pulled Carey into a tight embrace with the shaking of his hand. 

“Nice to see you, cousin.” Sawyer drawled. “Thought you wasn’t gonna make it.” 

“Uhhh...I didn’t, cuz.” Carey said. 

“What?!” Cable and Sawyer asked at the same time. 

Carey rubbed the back of his head as he avoided eye contact with the St. James men. 

“’Von got accepted, Unc. I didn’t.” 

[wardogsong]

lou pulls back a toned thigh as far as she can before launching it forward into frank's chest. 'y'know my mother's dead, you dick.' lust has been replaced with anger. 'put me down or so help me.'

Frank feels more than he sees it coming, but even so he's not fast enough to either drop Lou or hoist and piledrive her into the cheap bed as he'd been planning. There's nothing to do but get the wind kicked out of him, stumble, and belatedly retaliate by flinging Lou off in the general direction of the crusty loveseat just ahead. He knows she's going to spring up fighting, but he's braced and ready for it. "Jesus Christ, y'r so full'a piss and vinegar it's a fuckin' wonder your bones don't dissolve. Welcome to the dead mothers club— build a bridge and get over it."

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert

Act 6, page 6453-6459

ROXY: hay look

ROXY: its jake stuffed in a blue windsock

ROXY: heheheh

JOHN: huh?

ROXY: n/m

ROXY: so what kind of hot god tier trix can you teach me

JOHN: tricks...

JOHN: i guess i don't know any actual TRICKS per se, aside from how to use some of my powers.

JOHN: but i don't know if the same tricks apply to using your powers...

ROXY: u said u could help tho

JOHN: i said MAYBE i could!

JOHN: i dunno, i was just throwing it out there.

JOHN: like, maybe if i told you about some of the experiences i had when i was learning to do my windy stuff, you might have some kind of... voidey epiphany?

ROXY: a voidey epiphany

JOHN: yes.

ROXY: k then

ROXY: im all ears johnny windsock

ROXY: let loose ur wisdom whilst i rake in the epiphanies

JOHN: ok, um,

JOHN: i've noticed whenever i learn to do new things with my powers, it's usually in response to something. like something important that has to be done.

JOHN: so why are you trying to make this spike ball?

JOHN: and how important does it feel to you?

ROXY: well at first i was mainly tryin to make it because dog girl was forcing me to

ROXY: but now i think i keep trying because im gettin obsessed with making this dumb spikeball and PO'd that i cant do it

JOHN: i see.

JOHN: what actually IS this spike ball, if you don't mind my asking?

ROXY: its an alien egg

ROXY: 4 tha trolls

ROXY: to hatch em all back to life

ROXY: but only to be ruled by an evil witch so its gonna be shitty for them

ROXY: so yeah its kind of an important thing

ROXY: but at the same time it would probably be terrible if i actually made it so...

JOHN: then maybe the fact that you're conflicted about it is why you're having trouble?

ROXY: yeh maybe

JOHN: if you think it's important to make, but don't want to give it to the bad guys, why don't you just...

JOHN: break out of jail?

JOHN: then you could try to make the egg at your own discretion, and use it however you think is best.

ROXY: idk

ROXY: i broke outta here once already and the fuckin witch just nabbed me again

ROXY: and that was BEFORE she recruited jakes omnipotent goofball grandma to zap me back here the moment i step outside

JOHN: yeah. it is a tricky situation with grimbark jade on the loose, that's for sure.

JOHN: but i've been managing to evade her.

JOHN: i just swoosh the breeze around to hide my scent, and dissolve into wind and fly away if she finds me.

JOHN: maybe you could do something like that too?

JOHN: it seems to me if anyone should be able to avoid detection using their powers, it would be a void player.

JOHN: get it? a void... as in, avoid?

JOHN: heh.

ROXY: that is legit sound reasoning yo

ROXY: + a way lame pun 2 boot

ROXY: but remember how we were just talkin about the fact that when it comes to god tier shit i dont know what the eff im doin??

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: right.

ROXY: anyway

ROXY: i thought you were going to regale me with stories of your ascent through the windsock tiers

ROXY: such that i may through osmosis glean the vagaries of godhood

ROXY: then all i got to do is wait for this rude tidal wave of epiphanies n junk to wash over me and get me hella wise

ROXY: then and only then

ROXY: i will b able to make this shitty egg happen

ROXY: k?

JOHN: ok. where should i start?

ROXY: at the beginning!

JOHN: you mean like when i first became a god tier?

JOHN: that's a long story... i was kind of tricked into that.

JOHN: it might take some setup to understand.

ROXY: dude look

ROXY: i dont have grand illusions that this yarn you spinll be like some actual efficacious tutelage on fuckin pajama spells

ROXY: i just want to hear u talk about stuff

ROXY: wanna kno ur stories!!!

ROXY: go :3

JOHN: alright.

JOHN: in that case, i guess it all started on my thirteenth birthday.

JOHN: which was three years ago, by the way.

JOHN: i heard about this awesome game, or at least one i thought was awesome, and i wanted to play it with my friends.

JOHN: but it wasn't so easy to start. i had to get it from the mail, which meant sneaking around the house while avoiding my dad.

JOHN: which was kind of stupid and childish in retrospect, but blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

ROXY: hmmmmm

ROXY: go on

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah meteor.

JOHN: blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah nannasprite blah blah blah blah oil everywhere blah blah blah blah blah blah imps blah blah blah.

ROXY: m hm

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah your daughter blah blah at least i think she is blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah salamanders blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah trolls blah blah blah blah blah rocketpack blah blah blah died.

ROXY: rly

JOHN: blah blah karkat blah blah blah blah blah ectobiology.

JOHN: blah blah blah jack noir.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah queen's ring blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah my dad blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah a girl named vriska.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah windy thing blah blah blah blah blah blah ocean of green fire.

ROXY: wow

JOHN: blah blah blah quest bed blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah prototyped blah blah blah blah blah blah blah jade's omnipotent dog.

JOHN: blah blah chess guy blah blah blah blah blah flying around in my dad's car blah blah blah blah blah blah blah liv tyler.

JOHN: blah the battlefield blah blah blah blah huge wind drill blah blah blah blah the tumor.

JOHN: blah blah.

ROXY: pls continue

JOHN: blah blah blah followed rose blah blah blah blah blah blah blah mom and dad died blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah kissed her back to life.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah the scratch.

JOHN: blah blah huge record blah blah blah blah blah blah giant needle.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah green sun blah blah blah blah blah reset blah blah blah blah blah god tier jade blah blah blah blah blah blah blah golden battleship.

ROXY: ur kiddin me

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah through a giant window.

JOHN: blah blah three years blah blah blah blah blah blah con air.

JOHN: blah blah thought it sucked blah blah blah blah but eventually came to my senses blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah ghost busters 2 mmorpg.

ROXY: mm

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah DUEL WITH JACK NOIR!

JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED INTO WIND AND ESCAPED blah blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah COOL HAT WITH RABBIT EARS!

ROXY: oooh

JOHN: blah blah blah CRACKS IN PARADOX SPACE blah blah blah ENCHANTED DESERT blah blah blah MAGIC RING!

JOHN: blah blah ADVENTURE ON THE HIGH SEAS blah blah blah blah blah blah GHOSTLY TROLL PIRATES!

JOHN: blah ULTIMATE WEAPON blah blah blah blah blah blah DEFEAT LORD ENGLISH!

ROXY: !!

JOHN: blah blah blah blah HOUSE SHAPED THINGY!

JOHN: blah blah POKED MY HAND INSIDE blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah UNSTUCK IN CANON!

JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED BLURRY blah blah blah blah CLOWNS ON TOP OF THE WHITE HOUSE blah blah blah blah VAMPIRE HISSED AT ME blah blah blah blah LITERALLY INSIDE CON AIR blah blah blah GLITCHY BULLSHIT blah blah blah MET MYSELF blah blah blah blah FINALLY FOUND YOU HIDING IN THIS LITTLE GREEN PYRAMID! WHEW!

ROXY: omg

JOHN: so that's...

JOHN: pretty much the whole story?

JOHN: i left a bunch of stuff out though.

JOHN: if more important stuff that i forgot occurs to me, i will let you know.

ROXY: hey no thats fine

ROXY: that was all great and exciting as heck

ROXY: it sounds like you guys got up to a lot more crazy shit than we did

ROXY: for us its been mostly dicking around in a session full of spooky skeletons for half a year

ROXY: then fefeta died

ROXY: the end

JOHN: fefeta?

ROXY: fefeta was a dear sweet precious dear DEAR friend of mine

ROXY: she was beautiful and sweet and lovely

ROXY: she sploded

JOHN: wow.

JOHN: i'm sorry.

ROXY: oh we also became tricksters which as far as things that happen go was sooo dumb

ROXY: i guess thats kinda the epilogue of our story?

ROXY: oh yeah then we had hangovers and went god tier accidentally

ROXY: thats the double epilogue

ROXY: the end ex two combo

JOHN: i don't know, that all sounds pretty interesting to me.

JOHN: sometimes in life, when you look back on things it can feel like it was all boring and uneventful.

JOHN: but when you really think about it, you remember all these cool things that happened you forgot about.

ROXY: hm yeah

ROXY: them wise words j sock

JOHN: anyway, if you remember more about your adventure and want to tell me some time, i would love to hear it!

ROXY: haha ok

ROXY: um but hey

ROXY: i could not help but notice in ur story you was talkin about my mom sometimes

JOHN: your mom?

JOHN: well, yeah. but i know her as your daughter.

JOHN: but i mean, who the hell knows at this point?

ROXY: i know rite

ROXY: the curious case of the mutual moms

ROXY: it is

ROXY: the biggest mystery?

ROXY: u no

ROXY: once i even caught wind of some lore that implied i might even be my OWN mom

ROXY: (fefeta hinted that @ me once during a long spiel DAMN that girl could talk)

ROXY: how messed up would that be tho

JOHN: there is probably something to that actually.

JOHN: you were all the first batch of babies, after all.

JOHN: i think you were literal copies of yourselves?

JOHN: that's what it supposedly means to be a paradox clone.

ROXY: babies

ROXY: wat

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: i guess i kind of glossed over this stuff in my story.

JOHN: but i was the one who made us all in the first place, with a weird cloning machine.

ROXY: no fuckin shit???

ROXY: *is impressed*

JOHN: it was no big deal though. i was just messing around with a control panel, and some babies appeared.

ROXY: so we already met huh

ROXY: and i dont even remember because i was just some idiot bb

ROXY: that aint fair!

JOHN: come to think of it, we met one other time too.

JOHN: but you were asleep.

ROXY: ??

JOHN: you were floating around in purple pajamas, and i pushed you out of the way of a flying fork.

JOHN: i almost forgot about that. but yep, that was you alright.

ROXY: you shoulda woke me up then

JOHN: i might have, but the fork stabbed me in the chest, and dream killed my sleep ghost. or something.

JOHN: you know how it is with dream logic.

ROXY: u mean how it makes lil 2 no sense ever

JOHN: yes, exactly.

JOHN: i guess i didn't think much about it at the time, but i had a sneaky suspicion that's who you were.

JOHN: you really look a lot like rose.

JOHN: she is looking for you, by the way.

ROXY: yeah?????

JOHN: she told me to go find you. and i did.

JOHN: so, she says hi.

ROXY: o man

ROXY: what else did she say

JOHN: uh.

JOHN: she said...

JOHN: she's looking forward to meeting you?

ROXY: awwwwww

ROXY: well if u see her again before i do tell her i cant wait to meet her too

ROXY: though tbh im kinda nervous about it but dont tell her that part haha

JOHN: sure!

JOHN: there's nothing to be nervous about though.

JOHN: she's just a nice nerd who likes to read and knit.

ROXY: i shouldnt be surprised to hear that

ROXY: me and all my friends are a bunch of silly nerds too

ROXY: even dirk who thinks hes 2 cool 4 school

ROXY: when in reality he is nowhere close to clearing the coolness threshold which exempts one from attending an educational institution :p

JOHN: speaking of which...

JOHN: i've been wondering where he is?

JOHN: i know jade's grandpa is in jail too, getting badgered by my evil nanna...

ROXY: u mean jake n jane

JOHN: yes, sorry.

JOHN: but i have not seen hide nor hair of dave's bro yet.

ROXY: i figured he got thrown in jail too

ROXY: although come to think of it i probly would have heard a bloody ruckus by now resulting from his inevitable escape attempt

JOHN: hmm.

ROXY: im not that worried about him though hes good at takin care of himself

ROXY: in fact i feel like all of us will be ok now that you guys are here

ROXY: but

ROXY: there is still one of my friends im worried about the most

JOHN: who?

ROXY: shes my best friend

ROXY: well ok

ROXY: i got a few best friends u know?

JOHN: yes.

ROXY: but she was always kind of a special best friend

ROXY: and last time i saw her she was in big trouble

JOHN: oh no.

JOHN: where is she?

ROXY: in the afterlife

ROXY: being dead

JOHN: ...

ROXY: her bro killed her

ROXY: which is bad enough

ROXY: but now hes out there

ROXY: hunting for her ghost

ROXY: shes doing her best to hide

ROXY: but her bro is an awful and relentless piece of shit and im afraid

ROXY: im afraid she might be already gone :(

JOHN: you're right, that is very concerning.

JOHN: who is she? would i know of her?

ROXY: dunno

ROXY: how in the loop are you on cherubs?

JOHN: oh!

JOHN: surprisingly, i know a LOT about that subject.

JOHN: for instance, did you know they turn into gigantic snakes when they have sex?

ROXY: :O

ROXY: :O

ROXY: :O

JOHN: i know. weird, right?

JOHN: that's probably not very relevant to the topic at hand, though.

ROXY: yeah prob not

ROXY: anyway u know about lord english right

JOHN: uh huh.

ROXY: ok well

ROXY: shes his sister

ROXY: her name is calliope

JOHN: ohhh.

JOHN: ok, this is starting to make sense.

ROXY: yep

ROXY: shes supposed to be critical to defeatin him somehow

ROXY: shes going on some quest out there to find a deadlier version of herself or whatever

ROXY: i dunno that could be all be true...

ROXY: and maybe its selfish of me but all i rly care about now is if shes ok??

JOHN: i understand. she is your friend.

JOHN: i would feel the same way.

ROXY: :)

JOHN: wait a minute...

JOHN: i've got it!

ROXY: got what

JOHN: i have such a good idea that would solve your problem.

ROXY: ????

JOHN: all you have to do is bring her back to life!

ROXY: how

JOHN: easy.

JOHN: i have a magic ring!

ROXY: what

ROXY: u have one too

JOHN: yes!

JOHN: wait. what do you mean too?

JOHN: you have a magic ring??

ROXY: i HAD one

ROXY: fuckin lost it though

ROXY: made peeps invisible who put it on

JOHN: ah.

JOHN: no, mine doesn't do that.

JOHN: it brings ghosts back to life!

ROXY: FUCK

ROXY: no wai

JOHN: yes wai. way.

JOHN: it's back at my house.

JOHN: i could go get it right now!

ROXY: damn son

ROXY: i find this 2 be some truly baller happenstance

ROXY: if ur claim is true im.......

ROXY: im cry :')

JOHN: it is quite true.

JOHN: it should be a piece of cake.

JOHN: you just wear it when you go to sleep, and it comes with you in your dreams.

JOHN: then you find your cherub friend, put it on her finger, and bring her back!

JOHN: i think you can only use it once though. so once she's wearing it, it would be hers forever, or at least as long as she wants it.

ROXY: yo

ROXY: yooooo

ROXY: john thats amazing

ROXY: i dunno though that sounds like

ROXY: such an obscenely precious commodity

ROXY: u sure you want to let me use it?

JOHN: sure.

JOHN: it's no big deal, really.

JOHN: for a while i was hanging on to it, thinking that i might give it to...

JOHN: aw man, this is going to sound dumb.

ROXY: hm?

JOHN: there was a girl who i was considering giving it to, for some reason.

JOHN: remember? she was the diabolical one who figured prominently in my long story.

ROXY: um

ROXY: oh yea

ROXY: fresca right

JOHN: yes, close enough.

JOHN: see, she REALLY wanted that ring.

JOHN: and she found out i had it, and...

JOHN: honestly, i'm not sure why it even crossed my mind to give it to her?

JOHN: i guess i was just used to the idea that i liked her for some reason.

JOHN: at least i thought i did.

JOHN: it was a stupid idea based on hardly anything. like one day of conversations.

JOHN: but since i've gotten to know her better...

JOHN: i don't know.

JOHN: i think i might actually...

JOHN: kind of hate her?

ROXY: yeah?

JOHN: yeah, she's...

JOHN: actually pretty awful!

JOHN: she's so full of herself, and mean to her friends, and...

JOHN: dangerous.

JOHN: really, really dangerous.

ROXY: ouch

ROXY: well what can i say john

ROXY: love sux

JOHN: yeah. it does.

JOHN: anyway, i don't think i can let anyone like that have the ring.

ROXY: but u dont mind trustin me w it?

JOHN: no!

JOHN: it's funny, after spending some time with a person who is legitimately crazy, it becomes easy to tell right away when someone...

JOHN: isn't?

ROXY: lol

ROXY: u sure about that

JOHN: well, yeah, everyone is a little crazy. i just mean not BAD crazy.

JOHN: besides, you don't even want the ring for yourself.

JOHN: you want to give it to someone you care about.

JOHN: that is what makes you one of the good guys.

ROXY: what a nice thing to say

ROXY: i bet sayin stuff like that is why ur their leader

JOHN: what makes you think i'm the leader?

ROXY: come on dude you are obvs the leader of otherkid teamsquad

ROXY: i can just tell

JOHN: haha, ok. i'll take that as a compliment.

JOHN: anyway, i'll go get the ring now.

ROXY: yay!

ROXY: ill wait here

ROXY: no need to set off the alarms with a daring escape just yet

ROXY: lets keep em lulled into a false sense of control over the sitch

ROXY: we can start scheming under their nose while u keep sneakin around undetected

ROXY: the last thing we want is for all hell to break loose before we know what were doin

JOHN: yeah, that's a good plan.

JOHN: if i had to guess, i'd say you must be the leader of your team squad too, right?

ROXY: naaaw

ROXY: that's jane

ROXY: as you can see shes the one with a knack for ruthless executive authority

ROXY: is a shame she only uses it when evil tho :(

JOHN: yeah.

JOHN: but maybe we can do something about that, if we work together.

ROXY: :D

JOHN: alright. off i go.

JOHN: keep practicing your powers!

JOHN: see you, roxy.

[foli-vora]

day 17: pussy slapping - frank castle.

warnings: f!reader. 18+ ONLY. unprotected p in v, cockwarming, pussy/clit smacks, praise

a/n: this man makes me feel fucking unholy things jesus fucking christ. enjoy x

He's so fucking thick. It's pure bliss and yet you hate it. You swear it's torture, impatience winding through your system as frustration pulls at your features.

His cock stays buried in you, the walls of your cunt fluttering around him as you adjust to the size of him stretching you out and nudging at your cervix. He doesn't move and it's enough to drive you fucking wild.

You just need a little something, just a little something more...

"Frank," you murmur, shifting on his lap and finally getting some sweet delicious friction, the length of him dragging against your slick, hot walls until his hands come to land, firm and restrictive, on your waist.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh there in warning and you cease your movements with a barely there whine.

"Keep still."

You want to refuse, the words of denial building slowly on your tongue. It's just not fucking possible - not with the firm press of his chest into your back, not when he's filling you like this, not when you can feel every ridge and slight twitch of his cock -

His breath blows past your cheek as he presses a kiss to the underside of your ear.

"You got it - just relax."

You huff, eyes slamming closed as you let your head hang back onto his shoulder and fighting the urge to squirm, your clit aching with the need to be touched.

"How can I relax with you doing this? Can I just - just a little... just a little touch -"

Your fingers are almost there, tracing the soft skin of your inner thigh and so fucking close to where you need it, but his hand wraps around your wrist before it can reach your centre and jerks it away.

"Enough," he demands roughly, the thick fingers on his free hand slapping at your clit lightly.

It's like a bolt of electricity slamming through your system. You jolt in surprise, eyes widening as your cunt clamps down hard on his cock. Your clit fucking throbs from the brief attention.

He chuckles quietly, his nose running along the expanse of your throat.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" He taps at your thighs, "Spread 'em for me. Nice and wide, sweetheart, yeah - just like that."

The calloused pads of Frank's fingers lightly ghost over your clit and sweat starts to bite at the back of your neck from the effort of not moving. You're so tempted to grind into his touch, to chase the firm pressure of his fingers and calm the rage of arousal churning in your core.

Smack.

You jump in his hold, dissolving into a wanton moan as the heavier strike of his fingers hitting your clit zips along your nerves.

Smack.

"You're fuckin' floodin' me, sweetheart."

He's not wrong. You were wet before, but this was just downright obscene. You feel it seep from you, escaping from where his cock sits still buried in your cunt and flooding his balls that sit tight up against your ass.

Smack.

"Shit, Frank -"

Smack.

"Fuck!"

Smack.

"You think you can cum for me like this, sweetheart?" he mutters against your throat, his tone low and gruff against your skin. "Go on, do it."

Smack. Smack.

Your cunt tightens around him and you claw at his arms as he increases the speed of his swats, getting firmer and firmer with each slap. More arousal gushes from around his cock and you feel your breath stick in your throat, the twist of anticipation growing in the pit of your stomach.

So close. So fucking close -

Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Fuckin' do it. I know you can, let me feel you."

One final smack has you jerking wildly in his hold, a thick arm winding around your chest to keep you pressed up firm against him as your body hits its high.

The noises that fall from your throat are incoherent as your climax floods your system, your thighs twitching with the need to slam shut when he delivers a softer tap to the swollen nerve before dipping down to feel around your entrance, running his fingers through the outright mess you made on his balls.

He kisses your throat, his slight stubble burning your skin, "Attagirl."

-

Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!

[kshira]

hi bryce! i was wondering if you could write aftercare with tokyo rev, pick ur favs of course!! <3

AFTERCARE

ft. mikey, izana, wakasa, ran, rindou, sanzu

tw. fem!reader, mentions of sex throughout, aftercare, praise, cursing, dirty talk, choking, cervix fucking, degradation, spanking, f!oral, m!oral, throat-fucking, dom!w/sub!reader

an. hi my love, i hope you like <3

❁ MIKEY

mikey feels you falling apart below him, fingers gripping against his shoulder blades, nails denting marks into the skin as your hips needily buck up to his own. “that’s right pretty girl let go for me” he whispers, words set like a melody drift into your ear, mikey begins to watch in wonder, static orbs absorbing your every move—he loves this so much, how vulnerable you look as the orgasm washes over you. he sighs into your skin, cock twitching when he paints your walls a pretty white. sometimes it’s unbearable watching him stare you down afterwards, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your head. “do you know why i do this?” he questions, burying his arms under your back and pulling you flush to his chest. it’s like he could read your mind, thoughts lingering in the deepest parts of your brain—he nestles his face into your neck, exhaling a smooth breath “i wanna make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream, how i ever deserved someone so perfect.” mikey snuggles deeper in your neck, hiding the obvious blush fixated on his cheeks. and for now he wants to stay like this, so close to you never wanting to let go of a flawless being that’s all his.

❁ IZANA

“i’m all yours angel” izana whines, fingers tightly laced around your neck as he bounces you on his cock, another squeeze and he feels your cunt throb in response. “need you to cum on what’s yours” izana flashes his lilac orbs at you, tighter squeeze on your throat till black invades your vision. you gasp for air, clawing at his fingers till your juices soak through to his balls, his own release dissolving into pleasure izana immediately lets go of your throat. “does it hurt? did i squeeze too tight, princess?” izana traces the light marks burning darker on your neck, wincing when you wrap your arms around him instead of answering his question. “so pretty” he whispers into your hair, pulling his arms around your bare back, nudging his nose against your ear “always so good for me.” izana exhales a breath, an uneasy conscious thought plagues his mind about how he gets off. sometimes he has to choke you till he can cum but just the simple gratitude of your arms holding him is enough to lull him to a safer state of mind.

❁ WAKASA

it feels like it’s been a lifetime since your boyfriend has been over you, your legs thrown over his shoulder as he thrusts deep and slow into your weeping cunt. he loves watching his cock disappear inside your tight cunt, splitting you open every time he pulls out to ram harder inside you. his lazy eyes are callous, equivalent to his strokes, snapping his hips and low grunts dripping from his lips. struggling to catch his breath wakasa pants and heaves, wanting to stay inside your warm pussy forever—but the twitch of his cock, the sensitive tip dragging along your gummy walls and he’s so close, his orgasm tainted on the tip of his tongue. “g-gonna cum” wakasa utters, the force of his cock drilling inside you has your body clenching, tits brutally bouncing to his movements. your legs are still twitching from your coil snapping heavy against your stomach, back arching as his cock prods your cervix. concoction swirling together and you squeal letting yourself go, orgasm exploding into a mesmerizing rush. “god so fuckin’ messy” wakasa moans, pulling his slick cock out to color your stomach with white ribbons, pumping his dick until he’s spent. the orgasm hits him harder as he crashes beside you, chest still heaving and winded he drags his head over to look at you. “hi pretty girl” he smiles, lifting his hand up to cup your face “make me so happy” he grins now, the oxygen left in his chest replaced with pride. “i love you” he whispers, thumb circling your cheek, “so much.”

❁ RAN

“filthy hole keeps sucking me in” ran grits, hips snapping against your ass when all you can do is moan back in response. ran digs his nails deeper in the plush of your hips. hand coming down to smack your ass “do you like it when i fuck you this like?” ran asks, smirk bleeding through his lips when a sheen liquid drips down to the covers below you “when i fuck you like the whore you are?” ran cards through his sweat covered locks, running a hand down to land another bone biting smack on your ass, the skin rippling in effect. “want me to cum in your pussy? or in another hole you just let me fuck how i please?” ran taunts, awaiting an answer but knowing you simply can’t reply, after all your panties were shoved in your mouth, a gurgled moan and he’ll take it. “don’t let any drop out now greedy little slut” ran throws his head back, cum painting your walls and he keeps thrusting harder, pushing the cum deeper inside your messy hole. ran wipes the moisture from his forehead with the back of his hand, pulling out and automatically scooping you up with his larger hands, gently pulling your underwear from your mouth and tossing them aside. “my beautiful girl” he coos, cradling your body against his chest and peppering your face with his lips. “how’re you feeling?” ran asks, brushing his fingertips across your face, digit tipping your chin up and his soft lips rub across yours. you answer shyly in his mouth, pulling away and snuggling your face close to his chest, listening to his heart beating to the rhythm of your own “you’re my everything” he murmurs, watching your eyes flutter close. “i’m nothing without you” ran speaks out loud, knowing you’re dozing off and he smiles to himself listening to your shallow snores.

❁ RINDOU

“one more princess” rindou pleads, tongue swirling against your clit and groaning at your juices coloring his lips, slick dripping down his chin. he pushes his face deeper between your legs, gripping at your thighs and spreading them further. “taste so fuckin’ good” rindou pulls his warm muscle from your puffy clit, laying his tongue flat against your folds and sending a deep brutal hum quiver through your spine. overstimulation rushes through your body, his mouth prying another orgasm out of your pussy, body trembling as you gush around his tongue. “such a good girl” rindou moans, rising from his position and wiping your slick from his mouth. a blush spreads from his cheeks to his ears, avoiding your blissful gaze “you uh—you need anything?” rindou stutters shifting beside you and turning his back. you can see his ears burning red, his chest slowly gaining back to a steady beat. “i like when you—” rindou takes a breath, flipping back over to face you, “when you let me make you feel good.” rindou shy aurora shines through, so vocal during the moment yet so quiet afterwards. he drags his eyes up to you, smiling softly rindou grabs your hand and raises it to his mouth, lips brushing across the knuckles “d-don’t give me that look angel, y-you know i get shy.” and you can’t help but laugh at rindou, how he opens himself so easily for someone he loves so much, even if he can’t keep eye contact after the fact.

❁ SANZU

sanzu grips the back of your head, smiling down as he watches the drool drip from the corners of your mouth, his length curving against your throat. “you suck me so good pretty girl” he pants, fingers gripping against your scalp. sanzu throbs in your mouth, snapping his hips as his seed finally shoots down your throat. he squeezes your cheeks, hand gripping at your throat when you swallow, twitching at the warm liquid seeping down your raw throat. you watch sanzu squat down to your level, face softening contrast to his malicious intent earlier. “does it hurt?” he inquires, fingers tracing down your throat, “i shouldn’t be so rough with you angel.” sanzu face paints guilt, exhaling and dropping his arms around you “i wish i could do this without being so fucked up” he chokes out, squeezing you tighter in his arms. guilt rips through his soul when he hears your voice squeak out, reassurance and praise lingers from your lips, he wipes the tears from his red cheeks with one hand and the other gripping the back of your neck. sanzu can’t help but cry harder, “never wanna let you go” he sniffs, pressing his forehead against yours.

tagging— @sz-u

[kiridarling]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

[chil2de]

that one scene from csm but make it my favourite haikyuu characters

aka: you give them the lollipop you were eating

featuring: miya atsumu, miya osamu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi, iwaizumi hajime, tendou satori

atsumu

“that’s nasty as shit”

“y’all still eat those?” atsumu sneers, slumping down on the bench beside you. he slings his arm over you to set down the drink he got for you. from your peripherals, you watch him screw open a bottle of water before chugging half the contents.

“what do you mean still? you’re acting like you were born three decades ago. have you ever even had one?”

“why would i eat one? it’ll be gone in like a minute” he scoffs, screwing the lid back on.

“that’s ‘cause you’re one of those psychopaths who bite straight into it. you’re supposed to wait for it to dissolve in your m—“

“wait for it to do what?”

“huh? dissolve in your m—“

you turn your attention towards atsumu’s stifled laughter.

“you’re tryin’ so hard to not say ‘suck’ and it’s fuckin’ killing me” he snorts, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“are you a child?” you sneer, gritting your teeth a little into the candy.

“i ain’t got a lollipop in my mouth”

“that’s why ‘samu’s the better twin.” you hum. when atsumu’s mouth rolls into an ‘o’ you take the opportunity to plunge the lollipop into his mouth, relishing the way surprise paints him.

for a second, your thumb lingers on his bottom lip. his eyelids are still blown with shock before he tucks the lollipop away, delicacy audibly knocking against his teeth.

“cute.” you hum, pulling atsumu’s bottom lip down. he jams his lips closed, shooting you daggers in the process. it only fuels you more when he’s left in a pout but his eyes shriek bloody murder.

“shut the hell up, asshole.”

-

osamu

“i mean..”

“here. you wanted this one, right?” osamu opens the grocery bag, rummaging through the contents before leaning over the passenger seat to give you your lollipop.

you lean back over to him, planting a small kiss onto his cheek before murmuring a soft thank you against his skin.

“oh! you got the melon one, too! i heard they’re good.” you hum, working the wrapper off as osamu drives the key into the exhaust.

“probably tastes like melon.” he laughs with a puff of exhaled air.

“you didn’t get one for yourself?” you inquire, turning to face osamu as he leans one arm behind your seat- peering out behind him to back out of the parking lot.

“one of..?” he trails, attention clearly elsewhere for a second.

“the lollipop. you wanna try?”

“(y/n), i don’t want your cooties.” osamu hums in amusement, yet continues to pop his mouth open whilst he’s still facing you. having not tried the lollipop yourself, you quickly give it a few swipes before letting osamu taste it.

“tastes like melon.” he agrees, humming thoughtfully as he straightens himself to face forward.

“right? it’s kinda weird, like there’s an aftertaste.”

“there’s a few extras in the bag, you wanna try those too?”

-

suna

“thanks.”

you sling your arm over your bed, digging and thrashing around for your phone until it falls within your reach. even though suna’s a room away, instead of using your voice, you decide to send him a message. you can even hear the faint buzz and ring of his phone going off in the distance.

it’s a beat, two, three until you can hear rustling ring in the air; followed by the faint pitter patter of suna’s footsteps.

when the door opens, he pops his head through with a look of disgruntlement evident on him.

“are you mute?” he sighs, glancing around to try to figure out what you want before you get a chance to speak.

you grab the lollipop from your mouth, sticking it out in front of you.

“i don’t wanna eat it anymore.”

suna slumps off of the door, taking a few steps forward to extend his hand before taking the candy from you.

“i’ll throw it away for you, doll.” he hums flatly, ghosting a smirk on his lips as he listens to your clamor and turmoil at the newfound information.

subsequently, when suna settles back down at his desk, he sends you a snap. the picture includes him holding the stick at an angle so that you can see the bulge of the lollipop against his skin, ornating his cheek in a small ‘o’. moreover, the caption reads “gotem😎”

-

sakusa

“no.”

sakusa raises an eyebrow incredulously at your morbid proposal, features scrunching into mutiny underneath his mask.

“give it here. i’m throwing it away.” he tilts his digits in a ‘come here’ motion, beckoning for you to hand the lollipop over.

“kiyoomiiii! it won’t kill you!” you guffaw, hesitantly handing over the candy in betrayal. he shoots you a sideways glare, carefully covering the lollipop up with the original wrapper it came in.

“but we’ve kis—“

“—how am i supposed to know that you’re not carrying a disease?” sakusa refutes, warning you to not cause a scene in front of his team mates. if they caught wind that he even allowed you to touch his hand, let alone kiss him, he’s sure that he’ll never hear the end of it.

later that day, as you swing by the gymnasium to catch the end of sakusa’s practice, you spot him halfway across the court- resting on a bench.

with every step forwards, your eyes focus on the foreign object that pokes out of his mouth. it’s a white lollipop stick, the same one you’d given him earlier.

you raise a finger in rebuttal, tone sneering.

“is that—“

he grabs the lollipop, motioning it towards you.

“why? you want it back?”

-

iwaizumi

“couldn’t you have bought another one?”

“iwa-chaaaan! how are your blood sugar levels?”

“iwa-chan?” his face scrunches, clearly disappointed and a little agitated over the downgrade in his pet name. whatever happened to babe? baby? haji, even? he’s not necessarily thrilled that you’re talking to him at the same level oikawa does.

“huh? you good?” you wave your hand out, fanning it in front of iwaizumi’s face to catch his attention.

“yeah, what? i don’t know. i don’t check it.” he huffs momentarily.

iwaizumi’s quick to spot the lollipop sitting in your mouth, tucked away in your cheek so that you can speak properly. you can already see the suspicion crawling onto him, and unfortunately he’s half a step further than you.

“don’t you have another one?” iwaizumi sighs, refusing to meet the puppy eyes that make his heart strings pull.

“why? don’t wanna share with me?” you grin, securing the stick in place so that he can’t grab ahold of it.

“really? you’re not gonna share it with me now?”

before you’re able to start a game of tug of war, iwaizumi steals the candy by yanking it out of your mouth and swiftly taking it for him to taste.

“what the hell?” his features bundle up into disgust and his gaze locks with yours. you can’t help the slight giggles that threaten to spill past your lips.

“you got the orange one? that’s nasty.” iwaizumi mumbles, twirling the lollipop in his mouth as though he might become accustomed to the taste.

“so? no one’s forcing you to eat it. spit it out or throw it away.”

“no way.”

-

tendou

“ehh? you really wanna share it?”

from across the assortment of candy jars that lay in front of him, tendou leans over the counter. he creases his brow in concentration, as though he’s plotting his next move to win a checkmate in chess. in fact, he’s just trying his best to pick what snacks to stockpile for when he’s cuddling with you later.

tendou’s face contorts into disgust and he hisses a low tut when his eyes lay upon the untouched container of black liquorice. he moves his slender fingers towards said container, analysing the amount of content inside.

“satori? you like black liquorice? it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone.” you sneer, digging your elbow into tendou’s side. he uncoils from the jar as though he’s just touched a hot pan.

“eh? do i look like someone who likes black liquorice?” he raises an eyebrow, setting the container back down before grabbing something else and stuffing it into a paper bag.

“i mean.. yeah? you were just fondling black liquorice?”

“whaaaat? there’s some things that i like fondling, but black liquorice ain’t one of them.” tendou hums, snapping his head back to look at you in his peripherals. you send another jab to his side, apologising profusely to the employee for his inappropriate comment.

“satori!” you guffaw, watching the smug grin tilt onto him whilst you’re left speeding away from him out of embarrassment. tendou only reaches his hand out and stops you short by the arm, assertively yet carefully dragging you back to walk alongside him.

“you can’t just say that in public!”

“say what?” he cocks his head, blowing his eyelids open with curiosity. you watch his lips descend into that cute little pout and you’ve almost lost your mind already.

“oh? but i didn’t specify what i was talking about, did i? you’re so diiiirtyyyyy~”

“shut up! whatever— anyways, what’d you get?” you grit your teeth, turning your face away from him.

you can feel tendou’s cold fingertips grasp your chin. he tilts you forward, other hand dipping a green lollipop into your mouth.

“here! this is for you, angel~”

-

people who reblog r cool <3

[fruitcoops]

You write Moody so well! I would love to see something where Moody and Remus talk for the first time after Coops was outed. Whether it happens after the meeting Coops had with Arthur and Alice or after the all star break. I feel like they have such a good relationship!

Thanks! This was partially inspired by watching The Karate Kid (1984) last night, so I hope y'all are ready for some mentor hurt/ comfort this fine Sunday! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned forced outing

Remus was almost done. He only had a few more drawers to clean out. The whiteboards were as squeaky and shiny as the day he arrived; the desk had a few more dents and coffee stains decorating the surface, but overall it looked decent. He still couldn’t bring himself to take the pictures off, though. It was his life. His friends. He just couldn’t do it.

The sleeve of his ancient Wisconsin hoodie was still damp when he smudged it under his runny nose. No tears had fallen, but he could feel the maelstrom gathering in his throat. Everything he had worked for, gone because of one stupid mistake.

Not Sirius, of course. Sirius would never be a mistake. It was Remus’ fault they had been caught in the first place.

He stared around his office in misery—no official notice of his layoff had arrived, but he knew it would come, and it was always better to be prepared. Maybe it would hurt less if he did it himself, one final ‘fuck you’ to the homophobes before he trooped off with his tail between his legs.

The tiles were cold through the seat of his comfiest jeans. He tucked his knees closer to his chest.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the suffocating silence. He didn’t answer.

“Kid?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he croaked out a ‘come in’ with as much strength as he could muster; it wasn’t much. The door opened with a creak—he had never gotten around to having it fixed, after all—and uneven footsteps shuffled in, followed by a sigh as his visitor settled next to him on the floor.

“You have a chair, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Not all of us have young knees. Doesn’t your ass hurt?”

Remus nodded.

Moody huffed through his nose and hoisted him up by the arm. “Well Christ, kid, up you come. You’re awfully dense for a beanpole. What, you got concrete for bones or something?”

“No,” Remus mumbled as he followed Moody across the hall and allowed himself to be plonked down in the soft chair by the door. It was his favorite of both their offices; as far as he knew, Moody never let anyone else sit there. His chest seized as a sob tried to fight its way out. “I’m sorry.”

Moody shot him a look at he got comfortable in the adjacent seat. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t like useless apologies, Lupin.”

Remus sniffled. “I should’ve told you.”

“Says who?” Moody snorted. “Your business is your business. You’re a bright young man, none of this is your f—oh. Okay, Lupin, easy does it.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered as the tears finally started to fall. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like crying, but I’m kind of a wreck right now.”

Moody made a few soft shushing noises, inching closer until he could wrap an arm around Remus’ shoulders and pat his arm like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sobs were near-silent; Remus never cried loudly if he could help it, and he already felt bad enough for dripping his perpetual raincloud all over Moody’s office. He caught his breath after a few hitching inhales and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Remus pulled his knees up again and hugged them tight to his chest. “I haven’t called my parents yet.”

“Did they know?”

His heart gave another painful yank. “Nobody knew. Nobody. And—and now it’s everywhere and people won’t leave me alone and I’m gonna get fired—”

“Woah, deep breaths,” Moody interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “You’re not getting fired.”

“Yes, I am.” Everything felt gross and cold and sad.

“Who told you that?”

“Coach said it might happen ‘cause I’m a doctor.”

Moody scanned his face for a moment, then reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off his desk. “First of all, take some of these. You look like a mud puddle, Lupin. It’s very unsettling. Second, this is a complicated situation and I wouldn’t be too quick to make assumptions. And third, I’ll go to bat for you.”

He paused midway through blowing his nose. “What?”

“You’re a good man. An excellent PT. The best colleague I’ve ever had, actually. You know your shit and if they try to fire you over this, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

More tears threatened to fall over the edge of his itchy eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Moody grumbled.

“He hasn’t called.”

“Who?”

“Sirius.” Remus swallowed hard and, before he could second guess himself, leaned his head on Moody’s solid shoulder. “I’ve called him 23 times and he hasn’t answered a single one. He just…left. Didn’t even look at me.”

“He’s making a mistake.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Hey.” Moody’s tone turned stern. “You don’t get to talk shit about yourself in my office. This is a Lupin Appreciation Zone.”

Remus’ shoulders shook and he closed his eyes; he wished he could just dissolve into the floor and stay there until someone mopped him up. Everything hurt. The world sucked. Moody—

Moody was petting his hair.

The tears stopped abruptly and Remus hiccupped in pure confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m bad at comfort, kid, gimme a break.” The sat in silence for a few seconds as Moody continued to pat his head and muss his hair, which was in dire need of a cut but just long enough to cover his eyes when it was pushed forward. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you…?”

Something akin to embarrassment tinted Moody’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “My cat hates thunderstorms.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Remus said again, much quieter. Moody’s office always felt safe; all the clutter was in its proper place, clean and homey. The touch of familiarity was more of a comfort than he cared to admit. He sat up straight and wiped his face clean, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If I do get fired—”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, I wanted to say thank you for changing my life.” The words hung in the air. “You—without you, I would never have felt at home here. You were the best mentor I could ever ask for and I’m never going to forget that. You did more than just teaching me routines. Thank you.”

Moody cleared his throat again. “Tissues.”

Remus silently passed the box.

“If anyone gives you shit for being gay, you call me and I’ll take care of it,” Moody said once the tissue had disappeared into the depths of his pocket.

Remis blinked at him. “Are you offering to hurt someone for me?”

“I’ll deny it in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, this is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“You just got outed and your boyfriend ditched you in an airport,” Moody said bluntly, fixing Remus with a look. “You’re allowed to be a mess. Now go talk to Lily. Call your mom. Do whatever you do that makes you so sunshiney, and then we’re gonna unpack all your shit and put it back where it belongs.”

Remus swallowed hard. Fuck it. Fuck the NHL, fuck the homophobes, and fuck being sad.

Moody narrowed his eyes. “You want to use the kicking bag, don’t you?”

“I really, really do.”

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

“Stupid—fucking—son of a bitch!” Remus gritted out as the beat-up and half-folded gym mat squeaked under his assault. It was two inches of plastic and therapy—he was 90% sure Moody had stolen it from a middle school gym, and it had rapidly become the team’s favorite way of winding down after a frustrating day.

“Harder!” Moody barked behind him.

Remus wound up and slammed his foot into it again. “I worked too damn hard to be kicked out for this bullshit!”

“Damn right you did!”

The kicking bag creased in the center. “And I’ve got too much student debt to walk out of here like—like a coward!”

“Yes, you do!”

His grief had burnt off at least five minutes prior. Remus was well and truly pissed now. “And it’s nobody’s goddamn business who I kiss!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moody cheered.

“And maybe his face is stupidly pretty!” Remus threw his shoulder against the mat before he resumed kicking it. “And, yeah, he has really nice shoulders and a great ass—”

“Lupin—”

“But fuck him for leaving me in an airport! What kind of douchebag does that to a guy? I’m hot and smart and nice and I can date whoever the hell I want if he doesn’t appreciate that!”

“That’s certainly one approach!”

Remus stopped with a harsh exhale and dropped one last halfhearted kick to the base. “I don’t want anyone else, though. And I miss his stupid pretty face.”

A hand, heavy but gentle, squeezed his shoulder. “Then go get him.”