#especially because they were all getting paid for this

[lovetreats]

what's wrong with my boss!?

pro-hero!boss!bakugou x fem!assistant!reader

LOVETREATS .ᐟ navi. bnha m.list.

content .ᐟ think "what's wrong with secretary kim?" (sorta) but with this blond menace, ur his personal secretary, he's annoying, he's a yearner, you don't notice shit, kirishima knocks some sense into him, pretty fluffy, did i mention he's a yearner? you two argue, reader is 27 ? bakugou is 29 ? #idk oh also swearing, ur both awks but its part of the plan trust

word count .ᐟ 5.7k+

you’ve been working as bakugou’s personal assistant for as loooong as you could remember.

when you first applied, you were ecstatic! you managed to snag an extremely high paying job with little problems. it honestly felt like it was too good to be true.

… well, it sort of was.

you knew that bakugou was hard to deal with—it was always apparent in the few interviews he had with tv hosts, reporters, and especially with paparazzi. but you thought that it was probably because he disliked the fact that most of them always tried to get their hands on some information in his private life. he rarely attends events, and if he did, it was only an extremely short appearance—so naturally a lot of people, including you, thought that he was just an extremely reserved person.

and sure, he has a temper, and he is a reserved person, but he’s also just. quite hard to deal with. more than you thought he would be.

he wanted everything to be organized, he wanted you to be extremely organized. he expects you to know all the specifics of his work life: all of the events and interviews and meetings and photoshoots and whatnot. when and where, why do it in the first place, who will be in the same room as him, how long do you estimate it’ll take, take care of the ones that he deems “unnecessary”, etc.

at first you thought you were doing everything right, but apparently it wasn’t good enough in his eyes. he told you off for getting certain information wrong (it was right, it just wasn’t as detailed as he wanted), he told you off when he had to attend a “stupid, unnecessary event” (it was a pro-hero ball), and he told you off when you couldn’t catch up with the amount of emails and calls (it was literally your first week on the job).

still, you stayed and put up with it all.

at first, you talked back because of your pride. after those moments, you would always go home crying and scared, thinking that you might’ve lost your job for good this time. but he never fired you, even when you called him an “ungrateful asshole” one time.

bit by bit, you just got used to it. you start to smile, nod, and apologize when you did something he didn’t like. it surprised him at first, and sort of bugged him, but he never told you about it. bit by bit, day by day, you would perfect his wants and needs with work, leaving him with nothing to complain about.

“oi, did you cancel that stupid ph—“

“did it yesterday, sir.”

“… the pro-hero meeting tod—“

“8:30am, the meeting will be about catching a group of villains that have started to cause more and more damage everywhere they go. i’ve asked deku’s secretary, and they’ve told me that the villains had some sort of power-up that’s made them stronger and more dangerous.”

“..? who am i meeting wi—“

“pro-heroes deku, shouto, red riot, pinky, uravity, mirko, ingenium, best jeanist, lemillion, phantom thief, cellophane, and grand.”

he just stares at you after that. his eyes bore into you, but you paid him no mind. you continued fixing his schedule for the week and answering some emails. he blinks once, he blinks twice, and he blinks another couple of times before grumbling to himself.

“anything else, sir?” you ask without looking at him, busy with typing away on your laptop for the report he wanted done by 2:00pm. the only reply you got was him opening and closing the door.

and this was how your days would usually go. your short replies were either met with grunts or closed doors instead of the fighting the two of you were once used to.

but you started noticing something.

he’d make coffee for two instead of one, making sure that the other cup was just right, just to your liking. he would tell you to ‘take a damn break’ more often than not. he would walk you to your car and would watch you leave the parking area from the side before going in his own vehicle. he would ask for your advice on more things than before, and most of the time, it’s the one he’d always go with. when there’s events, he would always make sure you’re there as his plus one (and in these cases, he stays longer than he usually would).

but you never really put more thought in it. you just assumed he was more lax now because you knew how to do the job right in his standards, and this is him being grateful that he didn’t need to waste more time arguing with you and correcting your mistakes.

you never really thought about finding another job or even just taking a long vacation, until one of your friends mentioned how you rarely went out and would always be busy with work. well, they always do, it’s just this time it… made you think.

“c’mooooon! just this once! and you don’t even have work tomorroooow!” one of your friends cried as she shook your right arm. you sighed and tilted your head, thinking.

they were right. every day your only focus was to ensure that the work you did was to bakugou’s standards. every day you ensured to be the very best out of spite and for that sweet, sweet paycheck. but… you didn’t live. you didn’t party, didn’t go to clubs, and you barely go out for dinner with your friends.

“we should go out and meet some people! you’re 27, girl! we should be out and enjoying liiiife!”

you chuckle and playfully shove them away from your arm. “fine, fine. let’s go out tonight.”

you went on to buy a dress just for tonight, did your make-up and hair all pretty, and had a fucking blast with your friends at the club. you danced and danced and drank and drank, going back home when the sun was already up. sure, the morning after was unbearable and annoying, but you still had a ton of fun.

you wanted to live for fun rather than for work. you wanted to hang out more with your friends. hell, you wanted to travel the world! but you couldn’t do any of that if you were still going to be stuck as bakugou katsuki’s personal assistant. because every day, every waking moment, you would be focused solely on your work and nothing else, like a programmed machine that does not know anything but what was coded in it to do.

you didn’t want that anymore.

you have enough money, more than enough if we’re being real honest. if you want another job, you could probably go on and open a nice little book café. but working again was far from your concerns at the moment.

right now? it’s telling bakugou that you want to quit.

“what’s the event later tonight?” bakugou asks with crossed arms. he glances at you, quickly typing something on your laptop before pushing pushing your specs up on your nose.

“it’s a charity event, sir.”

“you’ll be with me f’ tonight,” bakugou states, like it’s a matter of fact.

you fidget with the buttons on the sleeve cuffs of your blazer, taking in a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself to break the news to bakugou.

“of course, sir. but tonight will be the last time i accompany you to such events.”

“huh? and why is that?” he asks with a raised brow.

here it goes. you stand up from your desk and walk over to him. you bow low and long, which made bakugou clench his hands into fists. he already had a feeling.

you stand up straight and look him dead in the eyes.

“i would like to quit as your personal assistant. i believe i’ve given more than enough of my time here. i will ensure that your next assistant will be able to manage everything according to your standards before i put in my notice.”

a moment of silence passed. you didn’t move or speak another word. another moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. it was like time froze, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, feeling a drop of sweat drip from your forehead even in the cold room.

another stupid moment of silence passed and you felt antsy. he wasn’t saying anything, he wasn’t reacting. you didn’t know if he was mad or what, you couldn’t read him this time. he just stares at you blankly, not a single shift in his expression.

“… sir?”

“do you need a pay raise?”

now that just ticked you off.

“… no, sir, i don’t.” you say with a forced smile.

“ya know you can take a vacation, right?”

“yes, sir. but i’d like to try new things, too.”

“like?”

you try your hardest to maintain your professionalism, it honestly looked like you had that little angry emoticon on your forehead right now. you didn’t expect him to be so hardheaded about this, you assumed that he would shrug it off and tell you to ‘do whatever the fuck you want’. you didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn with this.

“i don’t understand why you need to know, sir.”

you swore you just saw his eye twitch.

“well, since yer still stayin’ to get another assistant—“

“a new assistant,” you interject.

he grumbles, his expression forming into a scowl. “—another assistant, why can’t you accompany me for future events?”

“that will be the new assistant’s role, sir.”

you could sense his growing frustration. it was obvious with his scowling expression, one of his legs jumping up and down over and over, and his arms crossed together tightly against his chest as he leaned back on his chair.

“i don’t want or need a new damn assistant!” he yells as he stands up and smacks his hands palms down on his wooden desk.

“well i! want! to live! my life!” you shout back, your tone was sharp, jabbing each word at him. you had one hand on your hip and the other on your chest, breaking away from the professionalism you tried to maintain so as to not turn this into a heated fight. well, too late! good god he was being more stubborn than usual and it felt irritating.

“i want to travel the world!—“

“take a damn vacation!”

“that’s not the point, oh my god!”

you pant slightly before covering your face behind your glasses with your hands. you took a moment to gather yourself, to bring back the ‘you’ that you worked so hard to create for this stupid job. you lost all of that in this moment, and it felt like the two of you reverted back to when it was all still new and fresh. the bickering and arguing and complaining—

“i want to live, sir. i want to enjoy life. i went out with my friends a couple days ago and it was fun—i hadn’t done that in years,” you chuckle dryly.

“in all these five years, i focused on my work; i focused on you.”

his eyes slightly widen, as if slowly realizing that you were right. you’ve always tended to everything that was related to him. he would sometimes notice that you would even sleep on your breaks. he didn’t bother with changing anything because you changed yourself for it, and because of that, you probably grew tired of it. tired of him.

you’ve spent five long years dedicated to him, and was too content with your presence to even realize that if you left, it would never be the same again. you knew everything about him, how he liked his coffee, how he liked to organize, how he liked to dress, how he liked to relax, his favorite food to calm him down, and even his favorite fucking shoe brand. but he barely knew anything about you. sure, he knew how to do your coffee, but that’s only because he watched you make it one time. you didn’t talk about your personal life, your feelings, when you were at work (it was work, after all).

but still, he felt like he took you for granted.

again, it was silent. neither of you broke it, your eyes were locked on each other as the both of you waited for the other to speak with bated breath. after a while, bakugou clicks his tongue and closes his eyes.

“do whatever the fuck ya want. ya don’t have to join me later tonight, go rest.”

you didn’t reply—not like he wanted to when he turned his attention back on the papers on his desk. you bowed your head before walking back to your own desk, already planning on putting up the role on a site to find good candidates to be bakugou’s assistant.

“what’s up with you, bro?” kirishima asks as he puts on arm around and on top of bakugou’s shoulder. the blond grumbles, his annoyance extremely apparent on his face, which made kirishima even more curious and concerned.

after yesterday, bakugou took a quick glance at his schedule and cancelled meetings for the day. he practically forced you to take the day off. he was due for patrol later tonight, so he, surprisingly, told kirishima to come over. he’s slowly regretting it.

“fuck off ‘f me,” he mutters with little venom in his tone, but still shrugging off the arm on his shoulder.

“is it your secretary?”

bakugou’s head whips around to face kirishima. he squints his eyes and, once again, scowls. kirishima sighs and pats his back. “c’mon, you can tell me.”

“… she wants t’ quit.”

kirishima accidentally pats his back a little too hard after hearing that. “OI!”

“sorry! sorry! i just—i didn’t expect that…,” kirishima says, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the nape of his neck.

“what did ya expect?” bakugou grumbles.

“y’know, you’re finally admitting to yourself that you like her.”

“what the fuck are ya talkin’ about!?” bakugou throws a cushion right to his face. kirishima lets out a slight yelp and pouts as he hugs the pillow

“bro, it’s obvious!”

“i don’t have any feelings for her, shitty hair,” he spat, glaring daggers at his red-haired best friend.

kirishima sighs deeply as he scratches the back of his head. “don’t you realize the only reason why she’s the only secretary you’ve had for so long is because she practically pushes through all of your bullshit? and because of that, you basically don’t have anything to complain about and have it as a reason to push her away.”

this is another one of those moments where kirishima would keep him grounded, where he’d talk some sense into him. for how proud bakugou can be, it blinds him too much sometimes and kirishima’s the only one who practically smacks him back into reality. kirishima knows that deep down, bakugou needs someone to ground him. he wasn’t as bad as he was when they were still students at UA, but he was still quite headstrong.

“you told me before again and again how personal assistants were too annoying to deal with because you already had your own way of handling things, but she was able to do it all and more.”

“the only reason i kept her around was because she knew how i worked. i don’t want to have to teach another new fuckin’ person my standards.”

“then tell her she should do it.”

“she already said she will.”

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “… then why are you so worked up over it?”

bakugou only grumbles, turning his head away from kirishima, as if feigning ignorance. kirishima had to hold back in a snort so as to not annoy the short-tempered man beside him.

“and you keep telling me you don’t like her, huh?”

bakugou doesn’t reply. kirishima sighs before standing up and walking over to the mini-fridge bakugou has in the living room. he grabs two beers and tosses the other one to bakugou. he catches it swiftly, opening it up with no hesitation. this practically proved to kirishima that he’s stressing out over losing you. he knows his friend more than enough to know that when he doesn’t complain of drinking ‘too early’, something is amiss.

“why don’t you go on and take her out to dinner?”

“are you fuckin’ insane—“

“just do it, man. go to a nice restaurant! you can do other stuff too, just tell her it’s your way of thanking her for those five years. you can’t exactly force her to stay, that’d be messed up. so just, y’know…,” kirshima shrugs. “show her how grateful you are.”

kirishima plops down beside bakugou and takes a big gulp of his beer. “no matter how much you wanna try to deny it, you like her. this is practically a wake up call for you to make a move on her before you lose her to someone else.”

“you fuckin’—“

“don’t try to deny it, man. i know that you know that i know you better than anyone else. it’s why you invited me over in the first place.”

bakugou doesn’t try to retort this time. he can’t, anyway, not when kirishima’s right.

“i’m—i’m sorry?”

“dinner. tonight.”

you blinked. you blinked again, and again. it’s been a few days after you announced that you’d be quitting. he was distant for a while too, so him telling you that he wanted to have dinner with you tonight obviously shocked you.

he just stares at you and waits. tick tock tick tock goes the clock. he clicks his tongue and turns his head away as he feels his embarrassment creeping up on him. “if you’re too busy or you just don’t wanna, that’s fine too.”

“no, it’s fine. i just, um, didn’t expect it from you… is it—is it work related?”

he fully turns away, making you look at his back. he was in full hero gear because he was going out for patrol for the afternoon. you quirk an eyebrow, confused enough with his sudden behavior, but your eyes widen when you realize his ears had a pinkish hue to them. ‘was he blushing?’ now this just made you even more confused.

“i wanted to thank ya for the five years… for puttin’ up with an asshole like me.”

the way he said it sounded different from how he usually is. it was like he was trying hard to find the right words with how he spoke slowly, deliberate. you’ve never heard, or even seen him, like this before. it was… endearing?

“ya don’t hafta find another assistant, i’d much rather work on this shit by myself.”

“i doubt you can. after all, you have been relying on me for the past five years.” it can be interpreted as you teasing him, but you also kinda did say it like it’s a fact. and, well, it is.

bakugou huffs, he was ready to retort, but stopped himself from doing so. he walked towards the door instead; he didn’t really want to ruin the mood today and for tonight, he’d rather just let you be.

“i’ll pick ya up at eight, go on ahead an’ clock out at two, there’s not much to do today anyway. that ‘nuff time for ya t’ get ready?”

you just hummed in response as you scroll through the list of candidates carefully. “it is.”

you were nervous. so nervous that you were ready two hours before the actual time of him picking you up. how could you not be nervous? he already told you that the dinner wasn’t work related. he wanted to thank you for your service, and yet it felt like something more was there. why else would he turn around as if he was embarrassed? as if he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings?

wait. his feelings? there shouldn’t be anything, right? it would be sudden anyway, you’re sure of it. that’s what you keep telling yourself as you scroll through your instagram account. one picture caught your attention: it was the one where he invited you to one of the events he attends for the first time. you smiled politely at the cameras with your hand on his bicep, it made you chuckle how awkward looking you looked back then. you didn’t think anything was odd when you first posted this, but when you inspected it once more… bakugou was looking at you.

your heart skipped a bea—

NO. no way. no fucking way. no shot.

you saw this picture before, but why did it feel different now?

you closed instagram and stood up from your couch, gently tossing your phone on it. you paced around the coffee table, arms crossed against your chest. you were probably just overthinking things, probably just overcomplicating shit for yourself. it didn’t mean anything, he probably just didn’t want to look at the cameras and they just got the perfect shot where he’s looking at you—

you grabbed your phone and plopped down on your couch with a heavy sigh. you opened instagram again, this time you were on his account. you scrolled through his pictures as you hug one of your cushions. this was insane. why were you scrolling through his instagram? it wasn’t like you were gonna find something else to feed your assumptions—

oh. one of his posts had a couple of pictures that were just you. you and no one else. all those pictures were of you laughing and smiling. this post was when there was a fun little event for agencies and their heroes and staff to have fun. the pictures weren’t all you, but there was enough that made your mind get all messed up with unrelenting thoughts.

but there was one post that nailed it in the coffin for you. it was one picture of the sunset, but on the bottom right of the photo, there was a silhouette of a woman. it was dark enough that it wasn’t obvious it was you, but you know it was.

the caption?

beautiful.

you closed out of the app.

why were you having assumptions anyway? it’s not like you like him in that way. you never really thought about it, too busy meeting with his demands. you never thought of him in any other way other than him being your boss, and why would you? he was a stubborn ass who always tried to find something to tell you off about. this shouldn’t change anything, it’s just dinner with him. it’s not like you haven’t eaten with him before. it’s just dinner.

nothing more, nothing less.

bakugou has never been this nervous his entire life. he didn’t know why he was nervous, it was just dinner with you. it’s not like this was any different from eating lunch with you at work. so why the hell did he feel so antsy? like he couldn’t shake this shit off of him.

(he knows why, but like you, he doesn’t want to admit it.)

he was parked right in front of your place. he taps on the steering wheel while he stares at your front door. he shakes his head after a few moments, grumbling incoherent words to himself. his mind suddenly goes back to all the things kirishima told him a few days ago, it was all repeating in his mind over and over again. he grits his teeth before clicking his tongue in annoyance, checking his wrist watch for the time.

7:58PM

he leans back on the headrest and closes his eyes as if to mentally prepare himself. what for? he doesn’t know (he’s scared he might look like a fool in front of you).

he gets out of his car and walks towards your front door, taking a moment before pushing the button on the intercom.

“who is it?”

“it’s me.”

not even a second later, you opened the door. and god you looked fucking gorgeous. you wore a pretty little black off-shoulder dress that went down below your knees, your hair was styled perfectly, and your make-up made you look like an angel. he liked how you still wore your glasses even when you dresses up all fancy and pretty.

“sir?”

he shakes his head slightly to snap back to reality. “bakugou. bakugou’s just fine. we aren’t at work anyway,” he states absentmindedly.

“you… you look nice. beautiful.” he murmurs before quickly turning away and walking towards his car. “c’mon.”

you follow him quietly, your fingers gently pushing up your glasses. the walk to his car felt way too long for some reason, long enough for you to shoot a glance at his ears, wanting to see if they changed to a certain hue. a corner of your lips quirked upwards when his ears were in fact, pink.

bakugou opens the passenger front car door for you, all the while avoiding eye contact. you thank him softly as you bend down to get in the car. you try to make yourself comfortable, fidgeting around the car seat as bakugou goes on to get in the driver’s seat.

“before we go on ahead, i wanted to… give you something…” this was the second time he talked slowly, hell you’d even say softly, to you. you were too busy staring at him that you didn’t notice him reaching out to open the glove compartment and taking out a dark red velvet box.

bakugou shows the box to you and opens it slowly. it was a bracelet—a ruby and diamond bracelet to be precise. it was intricately designed and it looked so delicate, so elegant. the rubies were cut like teardrops while the diamonds were cut rounder, six rubies circled around one diamond, forming a tiny flower. it repeats all around, and it danced around the warm light of the car, shimmering like the stars above. you couldn’t help but let out a gasp with one hand hovering over your mouth.

“sir—bakugou, you didn’t have to—“

“none of that shit.” he tutted as he gently grabs the bracelet out of the box. he motions for you to lift up your hand while he unclasps the bracelet. you can’t help but catch how bakugou katsuki looked small, which is probably an insane thing to say, but you couldn’t find any other word to describe how he looked right now.

he was waiting for you to lift up your hand, but his eyes still haven’t made contact with your own. you swear to yourself that he looked like he was pouting, in a sense. his shoulders slumped, his head slightly lowered, he looked as if he wanted to make himself look small. bakugou katsuki is a proud man who is sure of himself most of the time, so seeing him like this—so vulnerable and even shy, it was enough to surprise you.

you finally lift up your hand, palm facing upwards. he wordlessly snakes the bracelet around your wrist, fastening it with ease. he watches you admiring it; took note of your eyes getting bigger, even seemed like they were shining prettily.

after a moment, you finally looked at him, and thankfully this time, he doesn’t look away from you. he notices the shy smile forming on your face as you bow your head slightly. you opened your mouth and said:

“thank you…”

in the softest way imaginable.

he mumbles a ‘yer welcome’ as he turns the keys to his car, letting it start to life.

he drove for about thirty minutes, and the whole ride was slightly awkward, but bearable. bakugou put all his focus on the road, and you were just looking out without really thinking of a way to start a new conversation with him—not that he minded all that much. when you finally arrived, he told you to stay put when he saw you gathering yourself to get out the car. he quickly gets out and speed walked his way to your car door, stretching out a hand for you to take.

now you’re the one who keeps avoiding his eyes.

you take his hand and get out, clutching your purse tightly as a way to ground yourself to what’s happening. though you’re out of the car, he hasn’t let go of your hand, he actually holds it tighter as he led you to the restaurant.

it was so quiet between the two of you now. silence wasn’t all that uncommon, you would be too busy focusing on your work to talk to him, and he’d be busy with his own. when you managed to practically surprise him with how well you work as his personal assistant, everything was peaceful. the only time it went back to the way it was was when you told him of your plans of quitting.

but it was back to quiet after that. the one the two of you were more than familiar with. but this quiet? this silence? it’s different, it has tension.

bakugou talks with the host for the reservation he made for the both of you, your hand still in his grasp. after a few moments, the host tells the both of you to follow them so they can lead the way.

the host leads you to your table which was located pretty deep into the area. it was much more secluded, something bakugou would definitely pick out. the host tells you to take your seats while they go and get two menus for your table.

“where d��ya wanna sit?”

“anywhere’s fine,” you murmur, too busy with gawking at how your table looks so pretty and different from the others. the cloth had a different type of fabric that had all sorts of intricate patterns sewn on it. the table mats were rectangular in shape, with flowers sewn in on the corners. to the plates, the glasses, even the flowers that sat prettily on the center of the table seemed to you as if this was all meticulously planned.

or maybe you’re just thinking too much into it again—

“if you’re wonderin’ why our table is different… i made a request,” bakugou ushers you to walk towards the seat in front of you. he pulls the chair back, lifting it slightly so as to not make a sound, motioning for you to sit down with a tilt of his head. you walk in front of him, bending down as he pushes the chair gently towards you.

“looks like you put a lot of thought into it.” you watch him walk around the table to sit down in front of you.

“i did. wanted ya to like it,” he says as he sits down.

“so… do you?” he looks at you with eyes that tell you ‘i hope you do’. he looked like he was a little nervous to hear what you think. you smile and nod your head and watch him exhale, as if he’d forgotten how to properly breathe. how come he's become easier to read now?

“here are the menus,” the host pops up from behind you and hands the both of you menus. they guide you with the dishes within the menu and mention their specials to help you out with what you want to order. after a few more moments, they leave you in the hands of a server.

“order anythin’ ya like, alright?”

dinner was… surprisingly nice.

bakugou made it clear before, and way more clear now that this dinner wasn’t about him trying to get on your good side to get you to stay as his personal assistant. all of this was simply because he wanted to.

while eating, he asked you about your plans, and he listened carefully. you went on to tell him about the book café you’d been planning, but with no plans of rushing in to it. your first goal was to explore, live life to the max; travel to different countries and party to your heart’s content. he didn’t reply much, but he made sure that you knew he was listening with how he kept looking at you.

time passed by like it was nothing. the appetizer was good, the main meal was delicious, the desert made you feel like you were in heaven with how light it felt in your mouth. the two of you kept chatting on (mainly you) until you needed to leave.

there was one thing you noticed before leaving the restaurant.

when the two of you stood up from you chairs, bakugou walked around the table and right towards your side. he tried to subtly eye your hand, and you watched him as he stretched out his own before telling you to follow him out. you almost wished he took your hand in his.

now back in his car, he wasted no time in starting up the car and drove away from the restaurant. you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the headrest of your seat, trying to process everything that happened tonight. you couldn’t help but admit that you did enjoy it, every single thing. from the bracelet, to the arranged table, to the food, to how attentive he was to you…

“hey, you okay?”

his voice snaps you back to reality, making you immediately open your eyes. you turn to look at him and chuckle softly.

“i am, don’t worry.”

bakugou let out a long exhale, like he was relieved.

“did ya… enjoy it?”

you turned your head away to face the window, smiling to yourself as you watch buildings and city lights pass by.

“i did, a lot.”

the rest of the ride was silent, only broken through once bakugou suggested that you play some music. even with the melodies, the both of you were still quiet. but it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, it was… nice. good.

arriving at your place, bakugou still didn’t miss the chance to go and open the car door for you. he walks you to your front door, hands in his pockets and his head hanging low. you glanced at him, and he looked as if he was deep in thought. his brows were slightly furrowed together, and his lips formed a small pout. how cute…

“bakugou?”

“yeah?”

he turns his head to look at you, there wasn’t anything special about it, he was only looking at you like how he was earlier, but—

you think it made your heart flutter.

“thank you, for tonight. i… i really appreciate it.”

he merely shrugs in response, but you can see how shy he is. the pink hue on the tips of his ears, his back was slightly slouched, and that pout still wasn’t wiped off of his face. he really was just wearing his heart out on his sleeve.

you walk towards him, inching closer bit by bit. your hands were behind your back, clutching your purse. you murmur for him to lean down slightly, and he does so with no hesitation. you whisper for him to take care, and before he knew it, you kissed his cheek and ran away, unlocking your door quickly and closing it with a SLAM!

what the fuck just happened?

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[gatorbites-imagines]

Sinners Remmick x male reader (preferably poc) where is a singer at the juke joint and Remmick sees him and tries to seduce him lmao. But male reader is low-key insecure of his singing tallent + kind of shy and Remmick finds out and is like "????? what do you mean" because male reader is like so good at music, and Remmick has to uplift him lmao.

you can make thiss smutty if your up to it

Remmick x POC male reader 

Headcanons 

Hate to admit, I dont know much about POC culture in America. I'm European, and we barely even mention America in history class. This also means I don't know a lot about African American culture, especially during the 30s and in the south. 

This means I won't be mentioning a whole lot about the times, cuz I don't know enough about it, and I wouldn't want to be disrespectful. I would love to read about it though, if yall know any good sources. 

Not as smutty as I had hoped, but hope it's good anyways 

You knew the Smokestack twins, as much as anyone around here did. Maybe you even knew them a little more than most, enough to know the truth about their father. 

Music had always saved you when times got tough. It started out as you simply singing to yourself, humming tunes that came from somewhere deep within. Then it became a harmonica that Stack had stolen as a gift. 

From there it advanced further, flutes, a banjo, a guitar, over the years you even learned the piano, and more devilish instruments, if Sammies father had to be believed. 

Music was all you had though, be it during the war you were drafted into it, and when you returned to the state to learn your mother had died, leaving you on your own. You didn't sing much anymore though, in public at least. 

You were still close with Annie after all this time, and you two would sing together at times. There were times she invited you over to sing for the very fact that you seemed to call only the good and wanted spirits. 

Part of you wanted to be mad when Smoke and Stack appeared, dressed as finely as they were and speaking of opening a juke joint of all things. For leaving, and all that. 

Stack had always been able to sweet talk you though, and when Sammie jumped into their truck, you followed, lugging your own guitar with you. It was old and patched in many places, but you loved that thing. 

The party was in full swing, and everything felt so alive. When you and Sammie sang together it felt spiritual, like something you couldn't put into words. It was an otherworldly experience. 

One that left you sweating and your legs shaky. It was easy to stumble over towards where Annie was serving up drinks, to let Sammie embrace all the attention for now. 

You were already known as the guy who could play most instruments, and could sing like his life depended on it, but that was all you could do. And even then, you never felt like it was good enough. 

You had been distracted with your drink and conversation to know what had happened at the door, of the white folk who claimed to hear your singing and had felt compelled to join. 

You hadn't caught how Remmick had craned his neck, trying to look above or around the group blocking his vision, trying to find “that other beautiful voice”, after he had paid attention to Sammie. 

Whatever Smoke saw on his face, he didn't like, and he had been itching to grab for his gun. It made an uncomfortable clammy feeling run down his spine, like it was something he wasn't meant to see. 

When the strangers left, the party returned to what it had been before, for the most part. You were still sweating and woozy, your shirt sticking to your back under the strap of your guitar. 

It was then that you decided that you needed some fresh air, all these people were making you itchy, and everything was starting to be too much. 

You waved at Stack and Mary as you passed them, giving them both a look up and down as if saying “just get on with it you two” as you trotted outside. Cornbread patted you on the back as you passed, as in his words, it had been too long since you let yourself go like that. 

Seeing the three white folks seated out by the front made you slow down though, there was something off about them. You were still far enough away so that you couldn't see Remmick's nostrils flare, or the way his pupils expanded at the sight of you. 

You were always weary when you knew you needed to be, you couldn't play white like Mary could. Somehow you still found yourself waved over, sitting down on the log beside the man you learned was named Remmick. 

“You must've been that other voice we heard all the way out here. You have a real gift” he said, voice almost reverent as he leaned in just a little closer, eyes boring into you in a way that made your hair stand on end. 

“Oh, nah. I'm not that good, it's all Sammie” you laugh, feeling flushed as you look down, hands messing with the strap of your guitar. Compliments always made your skin crawl, it didn't feel like you deserved them. 

“No, it was all you. Compared to him, you? You were like an angel” he exhaled, voice raw and raspy like a church goer who had been praying all day and night, Remmick's hand touching your upper back. 

Joan and Bert melted away into the night, not that you noticed, too busy staring at your feet as Remmick saddled closer, both his hands sliding over your body as he came so close. 

His breath was strangely metallic, it reminded you of the smell of old nails, or how it felt to chew on a fork for too long. “You bewitch me, how do you do it?” was murmured, his voice feeling... more. 

You should have gotten up, yelled, ran back inside the juke joint, anything. Not only were the both of you men, but he was white, it just made no sense. 

But still, Remmick's lips brushed against your neck, a shaky audible groan leaving him as he inhaled you. You couldn't have known that he was also feeling your racing pulse against his lips, and how it made him yearn and ache. 

“Sing for me?” he asked, voice thick like honey as he started kissing down your neck, Remmick's hands pulling your guitar into your own. It was sensual, the way he guided your fingers to the strings, intimate and heady. 

It was almost impossible to form words, this all felt like some kind of wild dream as Remmick's hands so expertly undid your belt and buttons, the Irishman sliding to his knees in front of you. 

Your eyes flicked from his burning look, towards the juke joint not that far away, but even as Remmick kissed at your growing hardness, nobody seemed any wiser. 

“Come on. Please? I'm on my knees beggin you and everything” he rasped, tongue flicking against your wet tip like one would a popsicle. 

All you could get out was a breathless yelp as he swallowed you down whole. Some sick part of your brain reminded you of a time where you saw a snake swallow a rat whole, that was the fervor he gulped you down with. 

Remmick held you there, throat flexing around you as he stared up at you, eyes so intense and unblinking, waiting for you to do as he asked. Sing, give him what he wants and needs so badly. 

Your fingers were shaking as you strummed the strings of your guitar. This was all wrong, this couldn't be real, but Remmick's mouth was so slick and hungry around you as the shaky words left your throat. 

If you had had any past experience, you might have noticed that his tongue was too flexible, or his mouth was too cold. It wasn't icy, but clammy, like waking up with a cold sweat.  

And it was wet, so incredibly sloppy and wet. Hearing and feeling him try to slurp up all his frothy drool around your length as you struggled to form verses and play your tongue was downright demonic. 

It seemed the more you sang, the hungrier he got. If you hadn't been shaking in your boots you might have worried about Remmick choking himself with how he gagged you down, his hands gripping the back of your thighs like a lifeline. 

There was no way the noises you were letting out sounded good, and the clumsy twitching of your fingers ruined any tune you tried, but it lit an unseen fire inside the man sucking the soul out of you, so you kept trying. 

Had you not been sitting down, you would surely have collapsed as you tumbled over the edge, your fingers scrambling at your guitar as your body locked up, a half-formed verse melting into an embarrassingly loud moan. 

But no matter how loud you got, nobody inside or outside the juke joint seemed to notice what you two had been up too, even as Remmick audibly gulped your release down, moaning like it was ambrosia and honey mixed into one. 

You hugged onto your guitar, like a blanket you would hug for comfort, as Remmick pulled back, moving slowly enough that you could feel the tight clenching of his throat a last time. 

“See? Gorgeous. Perfect” he gurgled against your thigh, looking at you the same way a cat looked at a mouse, licking your seed of his spit-soaked lips as he rose to his feet. 

“You just need to see it from my point of view, then you will see how great you are. Hold still for me” he whispered, moving closer until his lips hovered above your neck again. 

“W-whuh?” you get out, head still all steamy and thoughts all jumbled, your soft spit shiny length still hanging out of your slacks, trying to understand what had even just happened. 

You barely felt his lips kiss your neck before he struck, tearing into your sweaty salty neck like a vulture upon a carcass. Your scream as cut off with a gurgle as he pushed you back, pinning you against the ground as he feasted upon you. 

You should have trusted your gut, as much as you loved Smoke and Stack, they always brought trouble. It had never been like this though, being feasted on by a man who had just feasted on you in another way, just to hear you sing. 

A thought passed through your mind as everything was turning dark. Would you still be able to sing after the way Remmick ripped into your neck? But that was a dumb thought, you wouldn't need your voice anymore after you died. Right? 

[ruinix]

dark quinn isn't scared that you're taken.

Umm...hello, lovely. 😃😫 I am so getting distracted coz you hit me with this??? Anyway... Don't come for me. Read the warning please.

Whore thoughts. Smut. Dark. Stalker Quinn. Non-con. Deranged behavior. Dark. Dark. DARK. ⬇️

Quinn would be livid when he discovered your boyfriend. The anger that he felt rise and rise, soaring the more he read the file he received from the private investigator that he hired to look into you and fired because the fucker tried to take pictures of you. That wasn't allowed. The fucker overstepped, tried to do beyond what he was paid for. Only Quinn was allowed to take photos of you.

Back to the "boyfriend", this fucker was not significant. Just a dude you started seeing two months ago. Such an insignificant length of time. A dilemma that angered him, yes. But it’s not a dilemma to lose sleep over. Easy to manage. Still, a fucking dilemma that he would need to remedy soon.

It wouldn't be a hard problem to fix.

Although it would irk Quinn so much that he missed that fucker's existence. How you managed to hide this fact from Quinn was a mystery he would like solved. He was simply curious. Anyway, to get rid of the guy, calls would be made. Threats would need to be said.

While he planned, he would get distracted by video footage of you from the cameras he has installed in your room--not to be confused with the several others he had successfully his in your apartment during his maintenance days.

Whether you're working or lazing around. You distracted him. Especially when you would fuck yourself with a bright pink dildo. What a perfect color for his girl. Sometimes you change it up for a different shape or size or color, but this pink one seemed to be your favorite. Well, it would also be Quinn's favorite. Like how your favorite food, color, movie, music, hobbies were already committed to his memory that it would also be his favorite. You have already significantly altered him, and he loved that.

The way your hips rolled as you rode the dildo would be so alluring. Always making his blood rush down his cock. He would try to hold back, only wanting to come on and in your pussy whenever he visits you, but he would fail. Again, and again. He would fuck his fist so hard with only his spit as lubrication as if he was punishing himself for masturbating without you in the same room.

He would get off to your moans and groans because he also installed and synched audio recorders everywhere. He properly bugged your apartment. He needs to. The what ifs had drowned his mind mad. He needed to make sure that you were always safe. You were his after all.

He would only let himself come when you finished, screaming so loudly. A grin would stretch on his face, pupils dilating so widely that it almost swallowed his irises despite the harsh glare of his monitor's brightness in his dim room, then he would let out a chuckle that would turn into a laugh.

Why? Because you have never once called out your boyfriend's name. Never. Such a good girl.

Then he would watch you sleep, not bothering to change into a different pajama or night gown, then he would move, also not bothering to wipe the cum on his shirt or his hand, not bothering with changing into new pants.

He would go to your apartment. In less than a minute, he would be looming over you, because you were his neighbor. His only neighbor because he already bought out every single apartment on this floor. Even your apartment—that you've been trying to buy—was his. He loved having you on his property. You were his property.

That's why that boyfriend of yours needs to go. Quinn would get rid of him. It won't take long now. He doubted you will miss him because did you even love him? When you're always masturbating? Always home and barely texting the guy? Yeah, Quinn didn't think so.

While he gazed at you, he wouldn't resist the urge climbing the bed, settling between your thighs, smirking at how deeply you always sleep after a good orgasm.

Sometimes he would finger fuck you. Sometimes he would jack off over you. Sometimes he would use your pussy, rubbing over your slick folds or just fucking you languidly, making you come in your slumber, making a mess with his cum. Sometimes. Most of the time, he would only watch your arousal and cum drip from your pussy, murmuring, "I love you, my Love."

Good night. 🏃‍♀️

-> more thoughts? List.

[crowsofdarkness]

Request: “I think I’ll keep you” and “Who did this to you?”

Pairings: Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont x Female!Reader.

Warnings: slight mentions of abuse(reader has a black eye), drinking, language, and 18+ smut which includes slight public fingering.

A/N: im so sorry this took all month to post but whoever requested it, I hope you’re still around and you love it! I decided to combine both of the requests because they work so well together. Apologizes for any mistakes. This was typed on my phone and with my nails, it’s harder to type.

The opera house was full to the brim, every seat filled with rich pompous people who could care less about the people beneath them who were struggling to survive. Myself included. I despised this job so much, a private waitress for the rich folk who rented out the boxes of the opera house. But it paid well, especially when people got drunk enough they began throwing down large bills for tips.

Tonight I was scheduled to work a particular private box for someone I’d waited on once before. The Marquis de Gramont, or as he wanted me to call him, Vincent. The one and only time I waited on him at the opera house, I made a fool of myself by tripping over heels that were too tall for me and I spilled his drink all over his lap. I expected him to yell at me and have me fired. But instead, he cupped my cheek and told me it was alright. To say I was mortified was an understatement but he simply dismissed me with a tender touch to my face, saying he didn’t need any drinks that night. He was an honorary member of the High Table who oversaw a long list of assassins. Rumor had it, he wanted John Wick killed and had been dealing with it for the last week.

I think he was currently dealing with it because when I walked up to the box in the opera house, Vincent had his phone pressed to his ear, delegating something to someone in French. Hearing him speak the language of love made my stomach flutter but I was quick to dismiss the feeling.

Focus, idiot. You’re here for work, not a hook up. Remember what happened last time?

How could I forget? A few nights ago, I hooked up with some rich guy who visited the opera house. It didn’t mean anything, just a quick fuck. I needed something to take the edge off of a very long day. But the sex was so bad, I couldn’t even orgasm. I faked it just so the guy could finish and I could get back to work. It annoyed me when the guy boasted about how “he made me cum in two minutes” so I told him I faked it because it was so bad. That seemed to piss him off because he punched me square in the eye.

I expected him to get black listed from the opera house but instead, my boss gave him free tickets for the year because he couldn’t risk losing the guys money. Odd how that works since he got free tickets. Yet I didn’t dare say anything, not wanting to risk my job even more.

Clearing my throat, I made sure my hair covered my black eye as I walked up to Vincent. I didn’t have any makeup that would cover it so I went with the next best thing. Hiding behind my hair all night.

“Your drink, sir,” I said quietly, handling him his drink with a slight tremor in my hand.

Vincent noticed because he set the cup on the table next to his chair but kept my hand in his. The warmth shot through my body, making my stomach flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

I quickly nodded and went to pull my hand away, ready to get back to work. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

Instead of dropping my hand, he pulled me into his lap causing me to yell out in surprise.

“Shh,” he whispered against the shell of my ear. “The show is about to begin.”

I swallowed thickly, not wanting to look at him directly in fear of him seeing my black eye. I kept my gaze strictly on the carpet at our feet, noticing his shiny and expensive shoes. I couldn’t deny there was some sort of connection between us, it was evident that first night I served him. But there was still that lingering thought he would want someone so minimal as me.

The Marquis gently turned my face up towards him then brushed the hair away from my face. Fire and rage flickered behind his bright eyes but he held his composure.

“Who did this to you?” He asked with an eerily calmness.

My voice caught in my throat, unable to work up the courage to tell him. He was being so kind, attentive, and it felt like he actually cared.

Maybe he does, you idiot. It’s clear he fancies you due to how hard his dick is underneath you.

With a deep breath, I divulged everything that happened the other night. He never interrupted, simply let me speak while tenderly dragging a finger over my black eye. It wasn’t until I finished that he asked for a name, which I willingly gave. If my boss wouldn’t do anything about it, maybe Vincent will. He ordered something to one of his guards in French and soon it was just him and I.

Just as the lights went out, the show about to begin, his grip on me tightened before he turned my body to face the stage.

“It seems like you’re owed something, no?” His voice breathed against the crook of my neck, his fingers dancing over my thigh.

I sucked in a breath before leaning into his large frame, opening my legs for him.

This was so wrong. So unbelievably wrong. I nearly got fired the other day for sleeping with a patron but here I was again, about to do the same thing. But something was different. There was this small voice in the back of my head telling me Vincent wouldn’t do what the other guy did. He actually cares about me. He wants to bring me pleasure.

“Would you like that?” The Marquis asked.

I nodded with a blubbering please.

As the opera began, he spread my legs wider apart and dragged two fingers over the thin material of my panties. He praised how wet I was, teeth nibbling on my ear, and I shivered in his embrace.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned.

It was then I realized I was grinding my ass against his cock, the thin material of my dress doing nothing to create a barrier.

I rambled an apology which only made him push my panties to the side so he could dip a finger deep inside of me.

“Don’t ever apologize to me, understand? I want to feel you, all of you.”

His strokes were anything but slow. I could tell he wanted to take his time but with how busy of a man he was, he needed to make sure he didn’t get caught. Even though the opera was loud, I could hear how wet I was between my legs as Vincent pressed another long finger inside. He went so deep, I felt the coolness of his ring against my clit. My moans of pleasure seemed to have pleased him because out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sly smirk pull at the corner of his lips. I wanted nothing more than to devour them, suck the alcohol off of them.

“Oh shit,” I moaned when my pussy clenched around his fingers, my lower stomach igniting with a fire so hot I felt sweat gather at the back of my neck.

His eyes were stuck to the stage watching the show but his attention was solely on me. The pad of his thumb drew fast circles against my clit and soon I was biting my lip to keep my orgasm quiet as I writhed against his hand.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, slowly slipping his fingers out of me when I came down from my high.

It was so simple but this orgasm had to have been the best one yet.

I lay slack against his chest for a few moments longer, trying to gain my composure to get back to work, something I said out loud to him because I couldn’t risk losing my job. But his arm wrapped around my stomach to keep me in place.

The Marquis held up his two very slick fingers in front of my face and I felt a surge of heat again when I could smell my arousal on them.

“Just a taste,” he said before dipping those two fingers into his drink and then bringing them to my lips.

I didn’t waste a single second. I sucked and licked the alcohol and my cum off of his fingers like a woman starved. I maintained eye contact with him the entire time and felt the hardness of his cock against the swell of my ass, him clearly turned on by the entire thing.

A loud pop echoed in the air when he pulled his fingers out of my mouth and soon lifted me in the air, clearly done with the opera. I asked him what he was doing, where he was taking me, but he responded with five simple words.

“I think I’ll keep you.”

[five-rivers]

Dreams of Time 2

[Written with prompts from @ventisettestars and @bubblegumbeech!]

Danny might have been reckless, but he wasn’t actively suicidal.  Or passively suicidal.  Or suicidal at all, actually.  He liked being alive.  Just as a general thing.  Not that he hated being dead.  A ghost.  He meant he didn’t hate being a ghost.  Which… was a type of being dead.  

Existing.  He didn’t hate existing.  He liked existing.  

Yeah.

He might be dumb, too.  

The point was, he knew Nocturn could overpower him.  Especially now that he’d overpowered him once, and stuck that thing in his throat.  Luckily, he was used to playing along when in a room with an enemy and someone clueless.  Vlad was good for that, at least.  He rubbed his neck and grimaced at the stickiness under his fingers.  

“Are you feeling alright, Daniel?” asked Clockwork, turning from his work.  While he wasn’t looking, the spring in his tweezers turned into a miniature cherry branch with blooming flowers.  Danny’s attention was pulled away when Clockwork touched his forehead.  “Hmm.”

Danny would have liked to tell Clockwork exactly what was bothering him, but heavy midnight black ooze drooled from between his lips instead.  Clockwork didn’t seem to notice.  

“Would you like to lie down?” asked Clockwork.  “If you are feeling unwell, you can always rest in your room.”

Danny shook his head and eyed Nocturn apprehensively.  “No, I’m fine.”

“Truly, there is no point in lying,” said Nocturn.

“Now, now,” said Clockwork, twisting to pat Nocturn on the arm.  “There is no need to make accusations.  You may always change your mind, Daniel.”

Clockwork picked the tweezers back up.  “Ah, this happens sometimes,” he said, indicating the cherry branch.  Then, he went back to describing the mechanisms of the clock he was assembling.  None of them made sense, but Danny wasn’t sure if that was because they were inherently nonsensical, due to being in a dream, or because Danny wasn’t paying close enough attention, due to Nocturn looming over them.  

Okay.  So.  Shocking Clockwork.  With Nocturne there.  Okay.  Danny could do this.  

What would be shocking?

For him, the first time he’d encountered Nocturn, it was Sam kissing him (which shouldn’t have been that shocking, they’d done a lot of fake-out make-outs), for Sam, it was ‘Dash Phantom,’ for Tucker, it was just…  Danny showing up… Which was kind of mean…  And, for Jazz, it was being married to Dash.  

Lots of relationship drama type stuff.  Not that four people was a big enough sample size to be statistically relevant.  

(Hey, Danny paid attention in science!  That’s where he learned about space!)

So, Danny should probably try to generate some relationship drama.  His eyes slid over to Nocturn.  Nocturn gave him a thin, dangerous, smile.  

Danny pulled his lips back in a sort of instinctive half-snarl.  More goo leaked out past his teeth.  

Maybe– Maybe Danny should kiss them.  That would startle Clockwork, right?  And show Nocturn exactly how gross their weird dream goo was.  

And then Nocturn would kill him.  

(Plus, Nocturn was, like, a million years old.  Kissing him, even for shock value was just–  Yeah.)

Danny looked away.  Clockwork absently patted his knee, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  That was going to be hard to get used to.  

So, relationship drama between Clockwork and Nocturn was…  Not out, exactly, but shelved for the moment.  Until he failed to come up with a better idea.  

What else?  Well, if Clockwork thought Danny was his kid in this dream, maybe he could run away from home?  Except Nocturn was very capable of dragging him back, or making a fake dream-Danny.  Well, it’d be safer to try.  He’d put that on his list.  

Faking a seizure or something?  Clockwork would be able to see through that, though, wouldn’t he?  Maybe if Danny added in some judicious use of powers, like duplication–

Duplication.  Would the thing in his throat duplicate?  It wasn’t part of him, but then, neither were his clothes– Or were they?  His suit warped with him, healed, dissolved if it was separated from him for too long…

“Daniel?”  Clockwork was checking his temperature again, and this was absolutely not the right time to have an existential crisis.  On any subject.  

He bit his lower lip, and then wrenched at his core to duplicate.  

Duplication was a difficult power even in ideal circumstances.  Danny’s present circumstances were far from ideal.  He was dream-hopping, and there was a foreign ghostly presence (however weak) lodged in his throat.  

He encountered the problems caused by the compressed sleepwalker first.  While he was separating, peeling apart from himself, it wasn’t, and when he started to slide away from himself, particle moving from particle, it caught.  The effect was like his throat being grabbed, twice over, but he had experience with that, so he pulled. 

Which is when he encountered the next problem.  

In the real world, the waking world, duplication was somewhere between mitosis and intangibly splitting himself.  Which wasn’t an explanation that satisfied Sam, Jazz, or even Tucker, but Danny didn’t have a better one.  Especially since he was probably doing it wrong in the first place.  

But this wasn’t the real world.  This was inside Clockwork's dream, inside his mind, inside his body.  So instead of stepping away from each other and into clear air, the duplicates stepped back into the net-maze of Clockwork's will.  

Danny was slammed back into his body, his throat aching as if he'd been screaming for hours.  His fingers felt numb.  He had also fallen off the stool. 

Huh.  He didn't have to fake a seizure after all.  He could just have one.  

A blurry mass of purple and blue entered his vision.  “You are back with us,” said Clockwork.  “How do you feel?”

“Bad,” said Danny.

“Do you know who you are?”

“Danny.”  

“Do you know where you are?”

Briefly, Danny hoped that the reason he was on the floor was that he'd managed to wake Clockwork up, but, no, there was Nocturn.  Smug bastard.  

“Workshop,” said Danny, when it became clear he wouldn't be able to say anything at all unless he lied.  He tried to sit up, not wanting to lay in the puddle of goo he had produced. 

Clockwork pushed him back down.  “Wait.  Are you injured?”

“I– No.” 

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I’m fine.  Really.”

Clockwork frowned.  “Nocturne, love, will you watch him for a moment?  I will fetch his medicine.”

Nocturn hummed.  “Of course,” they said.  

“Thank you,” said Clockwork.  He leaned close to Danny again and pressed another kiss to his forehead.  “I know this is difficult, but it will be alright.”

Danny didn’t want to be left alone with Nocturn, but he wasn’t able to say that, because Nocturn was a jerk.  

“That was quite a performance,” said Nocturn.  “Very dramatic.”

Danny scowled and rolled over to push himself to his knees.  “It wasn’t a performance.”

“Everything is a performance.  Just because it is genuine doesn’t make it less so.”

“Whatever,” said Danny.  He looked around the workshop and all its detail… Although some of those details were warping in Clockwork’s absence.  If it was like this in a dream, how much did it matter to him?

The seed of an idea took root.  It wasn’t an idea he liked.  It also wasn’t something he wanted to try with Nocturn right there.

“Oh, dear me.  It seems you have managed to have a thought,” said Nocturn.  A lounge chair materialized for them to sit in.  “Please, don’t let me stop you.”

“Like you could,” said Danny, before he could think better of it.  

“You are in a dream I control.  Of course I could.  I already did.  But I’m curious.  And I would very much like to disillusion Clockwork as to your… virtue.”

Danny scowled, but shut his mouth before he could say anything else.  “You really aren’t going to stop me?”

Nocturn smiled. Black liquid came up out of Danny’s throat with enough force that it started to pour out of his nose.  Danny’s hands flew to his face in an instinctive attempt to clear his airway.  

“Remember.  I could if I wanted to.  Easily.”

Danny gagged again, then sucked in a wet-sounding breath.  

“You’re already beaten,” said Nocturn.  “The only reason I haven’t squashed you is because that would upset Clockwork.  As soon as he no longer cares.”  Nocturn mimed squishing a bug.  

Danny reached out and grasped the edge of a workbench, pulling himself up.  He made eye contact with Nocturn.  Then, he grabbed the clock Clockwork had been working on and smashed it to the floor.  

Nocturn looked bored.  

Danny put his other hand on the edge of the workbench and heaved it upward, overturning it.  He looked back at Nocturn, who looked even more bored.  

So, they really weren’t going to do anything.  

Fine.  Great.  That probably meant that this wouldn’t work, if Nocturn was so unconcerned, but now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. 

He overturned all of the tables and swept his hands over the shelves on the walls, knocking everything off, then hit the shelves themselves with a few ectoblasts for good measure.  When that didn't destroy the more robust mechanisms, he  manifested an ectoplasmic construct in the rough shape of a hammer and started hitting things.  

“Daniel?”

Clockwork’s tone was so confused that Danny felt his heart plummet even though that was exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.  He wanted Clockwork to be shocked.  That way, he’d wake up.  And rescue Danny from Nocturn.  Hopefully.  

(Danny really didn’t like how Nocturn had gotten the best of Clockwork, to put him to sleep, but he hoped that Nocturn had just taken Clockwork by surprise.  Despite Clockwork being able to see the future.)

“Why would you do this?” asked Clockwork.  He was standing in the doorway, holding a small, antique medicine bottle and a silver spoon.  

“Because–” Danny couldn’t just say ‘you’re in a dream and you need to wake up,’ so… “I hate you and you aren’t my real dad!”

Clockwork’s face cleared instantly.  “I see!” he said.  “You are testing my limits to see how I treat you when I am angry with you.  Rest assured, that I have no intention of harming you, kicking you out, or restricting your food access, as others have.”  He paused, thoughtful.  “Go to your room.  After you take your medicine, that is.”

“Medicine?” asked Danny, eying the bottle.  Knowing Nocturn - and dreams in general - whatever was in there would do something unpleasant to him.  

Clockwork flew up to him.  “For your illness,” he said.  “To help with the seizures, memory loss, and… other symptoms.”  He looked around the destroyed room.  “Of which this may be part.  No matter.”  He made a sweeping gesture and with a wave of blue sparkles the workshop jumped back to the way it was before Danny decided to wreck it.  

Right.  Master of Time.  Master of Time in a dream, even.

While Danny stared at the room, Clockwork had opened the medicine bottle and carefully poured something milky into the spoon.  “There,” he said, when the spoon was full to its brim.  “Take this, please.”

“Um,” said Danny, leaning away.  He took a step backward.  Clockwork took a step forward, raising the spoon to the level of Danny’s lips.  “No, I think I’m fine.”  

The milky substance smelled sweet and floral.  Not like medicine at all.  

“Daniel,” said Clockwork.  “You have had this before.  It is unpleasant, but it isn’t poisonous.  I must insist that you take it.  When you don’t, you have more seizures.”

Danny shot a look at Nocturn.  “It’s true,” said Nocturn, with mock concern.  “You will have more seizures if you don’t take that.”

That was a threat.  Judging by his expression, Clockwork hadn’t noticed.  

So… the choice was to have Nocturn giving him ‘seizures,’ or drink the mystery liquid.  Which was… Well, Nocturn could probably make him drink it, if he wanted to.  He was forcing him, basically, just with the force of Clockwork’s concern and various threats.  

It was effective.  Danny would say that.  

Very reluctantly, he opened his mouth.  The ‘medicine’ tasted like grass.  

“There we are,” said Clockwork.  “Now, I will walk you to your room.”

“You don’t have to do that,” said Danny, because he’d been hoping to escape into the depths of Long Now to plan his next attempts to escape.  From the dream, that is, not from Long Now.  Or dream Long Now.  

“Daniel, you just had a seizure.  I don’t want you to have another one while you’re walking down the hall.”  He paused.  “I could carry you.”

“No,” said Danny, quickly.  “That’s weird.”

“Then we’ll go together.”  Clockwork put his hand on the small of Danny’s back and steered him out of the workshop.  

For a second, Danny thought that Nocturn might stay behind.  He was disappointed.  

The hallway wasn’t as clearly and sharply defined as the workshop was.  It was almost generic, an average of all the hallways in the lair.  Walking down it took both longer and shorter than it should have, the walls, floor, and ceiling sliding by at different rates.  It was both ruler straight and twisty enough that he couldn't see more than a meter ahead. 

By the time they appeared in front of the door (or the door appeared in front of them), Danny was thoroughly dizzy and leaning on Clockwork for support. 

“There we are,” said Clockwork, opening the door and leading Danny in.  He patted Danny's back.  “Clean yourself up and take a rest.  I will come get you when it is time to eat.  Unless you would prefer me to stay?”

Danny glanced at Nocturne, then shook his head. 

“Would you like Nocturn to stay?  Pajamas he can put you to sleep–”

Danny shook his head harder. 

“Very well,” said Clockwork.  He flew back out into the hallway.  “Call us if you need us, please.”  He shut the door, the latch making a faint clicking noise as it fell into place.  

Danny was alone.  In a dream that wasn't his.  Briefly, he wondered if the room he was in was going to fall apart or dissolve. 

When that didn't happen, Danny looked around the room.  It was kind of amazing, actually.  Just… not in the way that Danny usually expected from Long Now and Clockwork.  

It was detailed, just like the workshop, although the edges were soft, comfortable, rather than sharp.  The bed was covered in a blue quilt with pale gold stitching.  It hadn’t been made quite right - actually, it looked a lot like how he made his bed when he was in a hurry - and the sheets underneath were peeking out.  The pillows were slightly askew, but they looked soft and fluffy.  The rugs on the floor continued that theme.  There were shelves along the walls that contained books, model rockets, and other knick-knacks.  The walls had posters for bands and space shuttles.  A desk in the corner had both drawing tools and a sleek computer on it.  A window looked out on what appeared to be outer space itself.

In short, it was the kind of room Danny would design for himself, if he didn’t have a budget, complete with the contents of the bedside table.  Actually, some of the things in the room - posters, models, and books - were stuff Danny had in his room.  His real room.  

He didn’t know whether to be creeped out or touched.  

Danny wanted to look at those books.  He wanted to turn on the computer, and flip through the sketchbook.  He wanted to know what Clockwork thought he would like, what he thought he’d draw, or play.  

The palms of his hands itched and he licked his lips.  

He shook his head and looked away. 

Just in time for Nocturn to appear.

“Did you truly expect to surprise or shock someone who can see the future?” they asked, mockingly.  

Danny was pretty sure that he had surprised Clockwork.  It just hadn’t been enough.  He had other questions. 

“Shouldn’t he be able to tell what’s happening now if he can still see the future and the past and everything?”

Nocturn waved a lazy hand.  “Clockwork is Master of Time, I am Master of Dreams.  He does not read minds.  I can.  Everything that is happening is happening inside his head.”

“But then I should be able to surprise him,” said Danny, holding on to his point.  “Since he can’t see what I’m going to do.”

Nocturn’s eyes were solid red, but Danny knew the body language that went into an eyeroll.  “He may not be able to see what you are going to do now.  But he has seen every possible action you could take, over and over, in his waking life.  What he has not seen, he has imagined.  There is nothing you could do to surprise him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Nocturn.  “Just as I know that you would be doomed to fail even if you could surprise Clockwork.  You picked a fight with me in a dream.”

Danny felt himself flush.  “Well, I wasn’t going to let you do whatever you wanted to Clockwork!  And I’m still not!  I’m not giving up just because you’re stronger than I am.”  He hadn’t done that with Dash, and he wasn’t going to now.  

For some reason, this made Nocturn pause.  They swept their gaze over Danny, from his head to his toes.  It made his body feel tingly, and he crossed his arms.  

“I see,” said Nocturn, tone significantly more subdued than before.  It didn’t make Danny feel better.  “But your plan, if it can even be called that, failed.”

“My next one won’t.”

[cookieshapedrat]

She deserves the universe…

[starscreamingg]

Detroit Become Human and why does this game decide that the problem in society is individual people treating androids poorly because those androids are choking them out of the workforce and NOT the corporations and governments who deliberately designed the androids to do this

[headfullof-ideas]

Okay, hear me out: Ruffnut and Tuffnut would be backpackers/super intense world travelers in a Modern AU. In the show, they show a passion for cuisine from other parts of the world that they can’t make on Berk (hyena gizzards from the Defenders of the Wing), they love to learn all about all sorts of random things from different cultures (explaining to Snotlout the roots of the deity Mother Nature in whichever episode it was, I don’t remember) they know more than one other language, and then there’s that whole travel/resort guide they wrote for Vanahheim (i do not believe I spelled that right, but we’re rolling with it before I go to bed).

Ruffnut and Tuffnut would be that Instagram and TikTok famous pair almost everyone somehow knows or has heard of that go on super extensive trips to various locations around the world, from super iconic locations to the smack-dab middle of butt-nowhere literally no-one has ever heard of. No one knows how they fund their trips, no one knows where they find the time to get to and from anywhere, and no one that doesn’t know them knows if they even have a permanent living residence. And everyone back at their home doesn’t know how they’re able to do all of that, and still spend an insane amount of time in their teeny-tiny smack-dab in the middle of where-are-we town that they come from in order to hang out with the rest of the gang and get arrested every once in a while for speeding, before skipping off to freaking who knows where until they post a reel of their latest exploration expedition.

I also believe they’d have a shared tumblr account that is also super popular as well, filled with a strange combination of memes and strangely philosophical quotes. Nobody knows that this account belongs to the backpacking idiots that everyone is at least mildly jealous of. There’s a betting ring amongst the gang on if or when someone connects the dots and blows up the internet trying to prove it to everyone else.

[sysig]

2024 Purge (Part 3)

A whole Three-Parter for 2024! Damned very completely took over my brain and I made so many many doodles about it haha <3 Also ft. Helix and SCII generally, and a few other cursory Damned-style things :)

Little mini ZEX walk cycle from his Kissing Strangers meme ♥ He’s so cute, wobbling around on these weird new legs, not used to using these stiff arms to assist him back up!

Floorplans!! Of the Vyer Estate, I unfortunately don't know the layout/room configuration of estates or mansions very well haha, so I kinda just guessed at what kind of structure the house would have - I could've looked up blueprints, but the foyer is such a strong image in my head that every other room kind of fell off around it lol - though I still oscillate between seeing the stairs in the frontmost room or to the sides, hmm

Many many speculations, including the outer spaces, yard out front and in back, what all is within their fencing, if its built on a slab or foundation, if there's a crawlspace or cellar or full basement, ahh, so many possibilities! You can see in the left full-view I mistakenly put Dex's room on the first floor lol, both his and Max's room are explicitly described as being upstairs, on a separate floor from the kitchen. Very important! But where is the master bedroom...? The two on the right are kind-of both of the same thing; the platform at the top of the foyer double stairs, and the room beneath it that leads outside to the back garden - I moved the dining room around here and there, it would be nice to open up the back doors and have a dinner party able to go in and out I think :)

Going a bit more granular, made some temps for Max's room specifically - he hangs out there a lot, it's important! Even pulled out my grid paper for this one haha, fun to have an actual floorplan kind of look with tile-spaced everything! Very Sims, quite fun. I do like the idea of him having a window seat, but he's also described as standing in front of his windows so that probably wouldn't be the Only type he'd have hmm

On the topic of the Sims, I ended up making the three mockups in the Sims 2 as well! I do like this one - I was especially surprised that Max was even able to get to the bed! I thought the dresser would be in the way but no, it’s all walkable :D Very pleased. Not fully satisfied with the placement of his en suite tho, would it encroach into his room itself, or be tucked into a wall...? I kind of like that idea of that :0

The double bay windows is maybe a bit much, but I mean. Idle rich lol. At one point he’s looking out the window and then backs Dex up against a wall, but Which wall hmmm, must align room layout with seduction attempts, very important

Switching entirely over, you might remember the card I posted of Stanley, and the small mention of having made a matching card for the Narrator... I may have made significantly more than just that lol, I can't help it!! The Damned structure is wonderfully made, it invites creative speculation and idea generation at a nearly alarming rate! I commend the game builders for their craft. So I made a bunch of the faces I'd want to see at the institute lol, I love duos the most-most, so picking a pair from several of my favourite pieces of media was just ahh! Yes!

Apaultheosis and Emma seemed like a particularly fun match :D Would that make Paul his "real" counterpart...? I mean, it says Matthew right there lol, but would he just act like Paul? Would be doubly weird if Paul-proper showed up while the Apotheosis was out swanning around haha, Apaultheosis really seems like the right level of "belongs in an institute" to have a lot of fun with :) And if it's my immune-Emma AU in particular, Emma's already used to having to be around a bunch of weirdos haha

The LAC boys!!! ♥ Making everyone's little background was a lot of fun too - yellow for the TSPs, blue splotches for the Hatchetfield duo, little devil trappings for these two :D Such fun! It was also very fun to write up everyone's little personalities in simple phrasing, really break them all down to their core characterizations haha. Helps with not pushing them too far one way or another too! Would they do any given thing because [trait]? S'fun!

Weird Duo, the Watchers pulled from And the Universe Shifts - the explorations of villains having to put up being on the same side as/having to get along with heroes really makes for an interesting examination of how they'd go about doing that! These two are still absolutely insufferable, but they're also trying to escape! It's interesting :0 Also casual headcanon of how the institute would deal with enby/trans characters, possibly something I've had a lot of thoughts about lol

Last fanduo from the first batch - all of these were made over the course of like, two days, if that lol, I was very excited about this idea - I genuinely love how anime/JRPG characters are usually given fake names also in Japanese, it's very fun :D I only did so halfway for Nova's since she's only ever had the one kind of anglicized personal name, no family name - could she also be a kid from Jersey? Such mysteries haha. She also probably wouldn't have her hair clips during the day unfortunately :P But I couldn't resist drawing them, she's not her without them! The Watchers get their masks, give my girl her barrettes!

Back to Helix, more short-haired Max! I do like this one but I also thought the pose was silly so I held off on it haha, he looks cute with short hair! <biased towards Max generally

Another one that was too silly to put anywhere haha, ZEX being attacked by an invisible Kayako - Teisel is very confused at your inexplicable reactions, Admiral!

Normally I wouldn't post my studies, partially because they're mostly for my own benefit, to better understand how to draw a character, and also because I am usually very ❤️💕💖💞💗 in my commentary lol, as evidenced. I was excited to see him!! Especially in the institute uniform!!! <3 I'd doodled him a couple times as such but Seeing it, ahh <3 <3 So cute, wonderful ♪♫

Max! Another half-study, frog mouthed boy <3 Goofy floofy lad, love him <3

And another! This time of him being teary-mad, gosh he's adorable no matter what he's up to

Hehe <3 A particularly silly one in reaction to Dexter having arm-pinned him on the floor - how different certain things look in hindsight, through the lense of a crush, hm?

Talanaaaa ♪ In actuality she removed her shirt, but how cute would it have been to tie it up at her side instead ahhh

Lovestruck Zelnick, totally listening, mmhm <3

The silliness continues! Was thinking about the little pink bits at the end of VUX tendrils and how I've sometimes seen them speculated as also being little tongues? I'm still not sure what I think about it! It is good and potentially creepy I think, but would they taste? Would they be as dexterous? Hmmm, thoughts thoughts

A dandelion for the sunshine Captain <3

There he is! The sunniest boy of them all! Sweetest sweet lad ♥ Love him :)

Speculating ZEX plushie stuff still - going over the construction of his uniform, possibly as part of his body, possibly as something to dress him in so he can be fitted into other clothes as well :0 I'm still considering the tail slot, but probably only for uniform-as-body - otherwise, laying his tunic overtop his tail would probably be the easiest all the way around. I do like VUX with short tails too tho, hmm, how to make it visible... On the right are a few more detail ideas :D Different eye styles, what would be embroidered vs. sewn together etc. - I considered felt medals and badges, but I really think embroidery would have the prettiest result! Even my notes say so haha, that and where to put weighted pellets in place of fluffy stuffing :)

Speaking of plush 👀 Ahem

An alternate Strawberry Blond panel, ZEX pulling him up fully to look at him hhh I love him <3

And also touching him a bit, what is this feeling DAX is feeling! ZEX has some ideas :3c Though when doesn't he lol

More DAX expressions! Angy and owie, they do tend to go hand-in-hand, poor lad got well-knocked around and he still ended up the least injured of the three!

Rando icons, I can't help myself ♪ This uniform has its hooks in me, is it the ominous smiley face's bright yellow on boring grey, the contrast, the sameness?? I just like it! Was a fun small and simple thing to pull together :)

I actually started this set somewhat early on, speculating what DAX's MU scene might be, but never ended up with anything solid - since he wasn't there initially, it's hard to think of what would be a fitting torture for him, apart from what Was there i.e. having to watch what ZEX went through :( That does seem like it'd leave some pretty massive mental scars on him - always always always unable to save him in the moments where it really counts! :'0 But it doesn't do anything to his Body, and that's supposed to be the point of MU! I do still like many things here, DAX's offer of self-sacrifice being rejected and him being powerless to do anything else

And the way I used hashmarks to imply his eyes going fuzzy with them both open and the stress - looks like a pause symbol haha

Also a big fan of the little corner doodle being so cute and wholesome, the two of them excitedly circling each other, excited to see each other! I love-loved that so much in their meeting <3 <3

Then there was that one time DAX and DAX met, that was fun :) If only ZEX had shown up, then what would DAX do! Self-defense in a way hehe, that's one way of getting on the same side haha

The raw doodle that eventually became Get Out of the Way! For as sad a way as it was to go out - failing to be protected, the last of his allies, not even able to wield his own weapon effectively - it does still remind me of a silly quote. Those dogs were indeed very nasty!

A temp doodle of Dexter holding both Max's clothes and ZEX's uniform after his "discharge" (;;) from the institute, the only things he has left to hold onto 💔 So very little left of him :(

I at one point asked smol who she’d put in the institute for funsies and she picked Maison Talo, and so I tossed Apaultheosis at him - they do both consider humans as prey! Just, a bit differently lol. Would the Apotheosis even be able to convert a Realtor by their lure? Where does the goo need to be to start to take effect, many questions

Stanley Icons <3 It's only fitting that my first choice for a card gets his own set of reactions! Icons like these are actually really fun to make - pulling around from my doodles, slapping a bit of colour overtop, edits to screenshots (Stanley's "Dead" reaction is probably my favourite of those, I'm sure y'all can guess which ending I pulled from lol) - and it all has me tempted to make a few more...

Back to Just-SCII! More Baby VUX!! 💖 They're so cute!!! Just little guys, adorable <3 Casual clothing and PJs and having to tie one's sash back on haha, all those complicated loops and knots :)

Also some muscle/arm shape speculations of how VUX armtips might change based on what they're doing, the roundedness of recoiling is very funny to me haha

Obviously had to make these two's versions in TS2 as well, the most fun <3 “What brings you in today, Mr. Vargas?” “That’s doctor.” “Oh, sure, right.”

More of the Doctor meme! Poor DAX haha, certainly sick with Something ♪

I think the lyric is “three times a day”? But what three times a day, that's the real question lol. ZEX has his own suggestions hmm :) I do like their hug in the first one hehe, so cute <3

Totally all better! Definitely nothing would make his symptoms flare up again!

Poor DAX <3

Digitized Dr. Doran! He really is so tiny haha, it was fun using Wander's colour scheme, mostly filled out already! The institute's dress code for staff is a mystery; presumably some of the therapists wear medical/professional clothes, but then there's Stein who still has the screw in his head - surely they'd allow jeans, right? Or is that where they draw the line lol. Look it's fine, he's meant to be the Approachable Therapist, he gets special allowances, totallyyy

All two Locked In doodles that didn't make the cut but also have nowhere else to go lol - there’s a few dozen concept sketches that haven’t been written into complete scenes yet that I'd love to post as their own sets! At some point!! Poor Oz is so put out, and Leah's big goofy grin, very silly hehe - that one's just meant to show off her outfit! It's winter, no bare legs here!

As a bonus to make up for those being the only two doodles, here’s Ozzy and Thrax in TS2 failing to get along lol. Oz! You're not good enough friends for that yet! Will they get there someday? :3c

VUX snuggles <3 Love the them so very much ♥

This is one I really want to digitize to get them a little more cosplay-accurate, but I'd been going back through some nostalgic AMVs and had the sudden realization that KuroFai, being one of my fairly early/influential ships on my heart, and now they...

Fai even loses an eye, I jfdlskafdlhfdf

Finishing out with my last set of cards, I had to make the two leads from SAOA, truly a masterwork in abridging <3 They're just such fun characters! And it's not like they're not already used to being trapped somewhere that constantly risks their lives :'0 I love them, I swear! Good things for them!

[naniahi]

She's a 10 but she leaves 10% tips, makes over $300/hr and doesn't buy groceries. Instead, she gets all of her food from a food bank

So she's off the table, -7, but she's calling me baby and writing me poetry and like.hfjdbfjdfb

Why can't this be a simple "off the table"?

How come she has to have a deep love of music and reading AND write me poetry?

Ugh

[tariah23]

I can’t wait to start estie school wha

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

oh no my “disturbing practices of early circuses” interest is resurfacing again

[lxvvie]

Simon 'I'm a bloody fuckin' gentleman' Riley

Simon who refuses to let you walk behind him. You're either in front or right beside him and never on the side closest to the street.

Simon who opens your car door and closes it after you get in.

Simon who puts gas in the car and refuses to let you handle it, especially when it's cold.

Simon who will go outside at night if you need to get something before winding down.

Simon who won't let you carry anything heavy even if you can do so.

Simon who won't let you put together or fix anything around the house.

Simon who's your escort around town if need be.

Simon who's the first to whip out his wallet. Complain all you fuckin' want, luv, he takes care of his.

Simon who makes sure everything is taken care of before leaving for deployment.

Simon who makes sure to check in with you every time he can because he knows you worry about him.

Simon who does all that and more because he's a bloody fuckin' gentleman. Your bloody fuckin' gentleman, and he wants your life to be as stress-free and easy as possible.

Simon who hits you with this look when he finds out you paid the tab instead of using the loo like you said you were going to:

[cathnospam]

Your best friend Bakugo kisses you in your sleep..

It’s weird, yeah, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop himself.

All, because of ONE kiss you both shared after graduation. Your lips were soft and sweet as cotton candy, so plush and pillowy he almost caught himself getting mad when you pulled back.

It was a simple action, you both agreed it was just something that was the heat of the moment since you both never had a first kiss, it really didn’t mean much

Or so Bakugo thought.

He nearly became secretly obsessed with your lips, the lip combos you wore he paid more attention, sometimes buying you new glosses to try and leaving them on your desk, the way they curve when you smile, he doesn’t even do eye contact that much with you anymore he just steals glances at your pretty little mouth. He hated it.

He hated how much he wanted another kiss. It was like an irking craving he was conflicted to satisfy.

He would always sleep in your dorm on weekends, wanting to relax even though some may argue he is just your little Velcro bestie. You fell asleep on his shoulder during a movie and while reaching over to grab a blanket his lips brushed against yours.

Bakugo’s movements stilled. Your lips were just as soft as they were 2 months ago. He was still obsessed, it was as if he got a taste of Heaven, and your kisses was from an angel.

So he dipped his head again with caution. Nearly holding his breath as his lips landed on yours. You didn’t wake up.

Bakugo rubbed his soft warm hand on your cheek while his became hot, mumbling on how stupid he is to do such a thing without you knowing. He had a mind to kiss you harder, maybe you’ll wake up and catch him. Slap him back into some sense because he wasn’t making any.

And he did, but you still didn’t budge.

Eventually it became a routine, he’d come over, you dose off before he does and he steals small pecks here and there while you slept beside him, he wasn’t the best kisser so he practiced. Some nights he would wake up just to kiss you again.

Pecking his lips on your cheek down to your lips and kissing you, it helped him become softer with his touches towards you as well. He liked doing it.

Eventually he will tell you, he doesn’t want to keep up this routine especially if you’re both aren’t in a relationship, he usually holds you tightly against him, admiring your face before he leans in.

Many mornings you wake up on his chest or buried in his neck. Grinning, kissing his cheek as he was a deep sleeper himself.

You liked all the kisses he gave you while you slept too.

[goldenpinof]

so, with the start of the USA leg there's still no updated (or any, to be fair) Terms & Conditions for this "2 regular tickets upgrade" quote-unquote contest on danandphiltour.com, thus they are currently (and have been from September) breaking the US laws regarding lotteries, giveaways and contests. if they are following the same Terms they had in the EU, then they are running a lottery, and it's illegal in every state unless it's run by the state. (+ interesting questions at the bottom)

(lots of thanks to Emma @dnpbeats for the consultation on the US laws and some links)

not to mention that they definitely broke a few laws in the EU countries by not disclosing official Terms & Conditions for everyone to see, with misleading/false advertisement about all regular tickets bought in September participating (in reality, the tickets bought after the winners were selected weren't participating, obviously, but we were never officially told about the time of selection aka a few days before each show, so that's a problem) and whatever happened in Stockholm.

if anyone knows anything about AUS and NZ laws regarding these things, feel free to chime in.

the 2 regular tickets upgrade

i did talk to dnp about it, but then i got blessed during the intermission (i wasn't hounding anyone this time! it was very spontaneous, and it wasn't the merch crew, stop yelling at me), so here's a product of both interactions:

- the upgrade thing was sent out to the venues. they have all the information about the tickets, their holders, and everything;

- the venues select the winners and contact them via email;

- the selection happens a few days before the show (which is fine for the shows after September but very shady for the 1st leg because not everyone participates, basically);

- neither dnp nor their team have any control over this other than the brief they sent to the venues with basic "only general tickets" and etc. only general tickets, so no Silver VIP for sure. it's on the venues to do everything, and sometimes they make strange decisions. the Stockholm situation with the winners picked right before the show wasn't planned. the venue just didn't select anyone beforehand. the crew wasn't happy about it, lol;

- they will try to organise it differently/better for the US/Canada leg, because this was a bit chaotic. like, it worked but not the best.

note 1: i asked to put the terms on the website. not sure if it's gonna happen. i did try my best in the moment to explain why it's important for us to know the terms. and the person i was talking to during the intermission said that quite a few people ask about that ticket upgrade thing, so it would make sense to just put the info somewhere for people to see.

note 2: about the selection timeframe. it is weird, but that's what i was told. the venues live on their own planet, so idk if they actually selected everyone a few days before each show (minus Stockholm) or waited a bit more. in the USA and further the plan is probably gonna be to stick to this timeframe. it's not a bad one, just doesn't suit the 1st leg since we could buy tickets on the days of the shows.

if i remember anything else about this, i'll update the post

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I post about house stuff there’s always some well meaning people and the occasional vindictive shit head who thinks we didn’t have our home inspected before we bought it.

We did. It passed the private inspection we paid for in order to get our mortgage and two inspections done by the city.

The problem with my house is that it was owned by a landlord who did all kinds of illegal and sketchy shit to maximize capacity and resale value but also would require you to take down walls to find. And for those of you unaware, they don’t let you walk around with a saw and cut holes to inspect behind the drywall.

The shithead hid things behind fake walls. Literally. He put a bunch of chemicals and paints into a crawl space then drywalled over it. There is drywall on top of drywall (or there was before we took it down). He put carpet over the asbestos tiles—which is technically fine. It’s safer to seal asbestos away than remove it… except he also covered the drain for the house so the basement floods and then the carpet rots and in turn starts breaking down the asbestos tiles, making them into a hazard. He built the basement himself so that the drywall was sitting on the concrete slab—something we couldn’t see without removing the trim—causing them to wick moisture from the floor and rot until we had black mold everywhere.

The electric parts that were visible were all up to code, but again, anything that could be hidden was done so, hiding shit like a dishwasher that had been hot wired into the wall through a light plate fixture under the sink. Or the 240v socket that used to power an electric stove which had been pulled through the floorboard to power the tumble dryer. (Or the gas stove that we swapped for electric because it kept trying to kill us and then we realized he’d run a gas pipe from the water heater to power it. The plumber swore a lot about that one when he finally realized that one.)

Plumbing all looked good until you realized some of the new pipes were just pvc cut to go around the old lead pipes. Something you couldn’t see unless you got up close and personal during the inspection, and we’re talking up on a ladder jiggling the pipes around which is also generally something don’t let you do. Not to the extent we would have needed to.

The man was unhinged. And there’s very little we can do about it because we signed an “as is” thing on our mortgage thinking most of the repairs we’d need to do would be minor. Only to find out the house which looked fairly modern and well kept on the surface was actually a fucking Saw trap. And now because of all the shit we’ve uncovered, we have to fix it before we can sell it because no one in their right mind will buy a house with declared asbestos—even predatory developers hesitate on that one.

So if we’ve got to fix this place up, we’ll fix it up for us because god knows, even if we managed to sell this place, we can’t afford the mortgage rates right now. (And while yes, apartments are an option, they make my MCAS a lot less stable because you can’t control the shit your neighbors use, nevermind things like a shared laundry facility where everyone wants to smell like “a spring summer breeze” that to me smells like death by fragrance induced anaphylaxis.)

So yes, we’re stuck with this place. For now. A place we had inspected multiple times and were still let down by the reality that people hide things and will do so in the most imaginative ways possible if it means they can make a profit.

The furnace dying the instant we moved in wasn’t a good sign, but shit happens. That’s home ownership. The gas leaks we had last week? Also home ownership. It had passed yearly inspections up until now. Appliances break down and require maintenance, especially gas ones. In an ideal world we would have gotten another five years out of the furnace, but alas, it chose death so we had to yeet it.

So, yeah, if you’re the shithead currently going off in my inbox about “stupid people winning stupid prizes” I’ll take that apology now.