#even though I apparently forgot to sign up for it/:::
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linguafrencha · 2 years ago
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Day 39
Đ Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ (verb) - to discern
ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ (verb, imperf.) - to see/send sb. off/escort sb.
Đ—Đ°ŃĐ»ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ (verb, perf.) - to merit/earn
ĐžŃ†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ (verb, perf.) - to appreciate/estimate
ĐžĐ±Đ»ĐŸĐ¶Đșa (noun, f.) - cover
ОĐČал (noun, m.) - oval
Đ“ĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč (adj.) - bitter
ĐŸŃƒĐ»Ń (noun, f.) - bullet
Đ’ĐžŃĐŸĐș (noun, m.) - temple (of the head)
ЗастаĐČоть (verb, perf.) - to force
Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș (noun, m.) - a person who is lazy
Đ‘Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ (verb, imperf.) - to quit
ĐĄĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚ŃŒ (verb, imperf.) - to hurry
Đ’ĐœĐŸĐČь - again
ĐžĐ±ĐŸĐčтось (verb, perf.) - to manage
ЗапрДт (noun, m.) - ban
Đ Đ”ĐČĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ (verb, imperf.) - to roar
Songs: Đ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐž by Đ˜ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒ ĐšĐŸŃ€ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŽĐș, ĐŸĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” by The Violent Youth
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brunchable · 6 months ago
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How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.
Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.
A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.
tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917
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It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."
Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?
Well, now he knew.
Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.
So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy cafĂ©, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.
You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.
“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.
“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.
You walked inside, and the cafĂ© had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.
As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.
Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?
“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.
“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”
Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”
Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”
“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”
Cue the awkward silence.
The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.
You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.
Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.
Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!
Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.
Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.
You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?
You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.
Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.
“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”
You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.
“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”
Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”
Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.
Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.
You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.
You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.
You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—
Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.
“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.
“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.
Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”
You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”
Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”
You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.
“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”
Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”
You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”
“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.
You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.
As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”
“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.
“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”
And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.
× × × ×
As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."
Oh, great. Creepy hospital dĂ©cor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.
“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?
“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.
He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.
“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves. 
The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”
Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”
Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?
You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”
“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?
“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him. 
Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.
You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier dĂ©cor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?
You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”
“Found it,” Bucky called out.
You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?! 
“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?
“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.
You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.
This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.
At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.
No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”
Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”
You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?
You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”
Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.
You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.
“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?
You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”
“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.
This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”
Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.
“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.
I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”
You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.
“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”
“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again... 
Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.
You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”
Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped. 
“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish. 
Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”
Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.
You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”
“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.
“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”
He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.
As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.
“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.
Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.
You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”
“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.
Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”
Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. 
“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked. 
You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”
“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...
The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”
“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.
“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.
Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”
Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.
“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded. 
“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.
As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low. 
“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”
“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.
“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.
 “You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.
× × × ×
The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.
Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.
Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.
You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”
Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”
“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?
You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.
Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”
“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot. 
“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.
He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.
You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”
When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”
“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken. 
Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”
“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.
Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”
Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?
“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise. 
Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”
This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”
“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?
You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”
He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.
“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”
You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.
“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”
You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?
“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. 
“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.
Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.
Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.
“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”
How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?
Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”
“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.
Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream. 
“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.
Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.” 
If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.
You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.
“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”
Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.
You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.
“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.
Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.
God, she’s close. Just a little closer...
Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—
“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.
Of course. Great timing, kid.
You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”
Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?
You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.
Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.
“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”
Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?
“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”
Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.
The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”
Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.
The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”
Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”
“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused. 
Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.
Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.
One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.
“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.
The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.
“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”
Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?
You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now. 
He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest. 
“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.
Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”
Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.
“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.
Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”
You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.
“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?
Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.
You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.
Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?
The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.
Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.
After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.
You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”
Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.
For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.
“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.
You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.
Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.
“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”
“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.
You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”
“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.
“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster. 
You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.
× × × × 
The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.
She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?
Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”
Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”
His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”
Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”
Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.
Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”
God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?
“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.
“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.
I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...
His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.
You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.
“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?
“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.
Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”
Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.
“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”
Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”
I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?
“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”
Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”
He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”
She knows exactly what I’m looking at. 
Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...
Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.
“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”
“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”
His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.
“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”
Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.
You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”
Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”
“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”
You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”
“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”
You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”
“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”
He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...
“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.
Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”
God, I hope so.
The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.
She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”
Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”
You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”
Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”
He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”
Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”
Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.
Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.
Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.
Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.
They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”
You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”
× × × ×
As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.
That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.
Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.
Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.
"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.
You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"
Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.
“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.
You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"
Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”
You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.
When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.
You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"
Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”
Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.
“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.
“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.
You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”
Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”
Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.
He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”
This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”
“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.
You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?
“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”
Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”
“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...
As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.
But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.
No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...
Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.
That... was... wow.
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”
Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.
You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”
Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”
He’s asking for my number after that?
You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”
As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.
When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.
Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”
Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”
He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”
You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”
As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.
You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...
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theother-victoria · 6 months ago
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Mr reca word vomit bc the brain worms won’t leave my brain!!! I promise I’m Very Sane abt this man
TAGS: not proofread, written before his release so potentially ooc and I’m too lazy to rewrite it post-release, secret relationship trope, reader wears lipstick, making out eheheheheh, reader is smaller/shorter than him, this is my propaganda and sign for u to become a reca kisser too
TAGLIST: @akutasoda, @https-sourlimes, @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii (putting you on the reca kisser agenda >:3), @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz
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Ok so imagine being in a secret relationship with the man himself

Like the two of you HATE each other’s guts in public. As a rival film producer, the public loves to pit your films against each other, and the two of you as well apparently. There have been so many instances of you making small digs and sly remarks toward each other during interviews that it’s become somewhat expected by now. You have a gripe with the pacing of his films and his fame. He has a bone to pick with your cinematography.
“That manic director’s most recent film? I would give my thoughts, but unfortunately I fell asleep not even halfway through.”
“That uninspired, dreadfully dull and artistically lacking director? All their films look the same. I couldn’t differentiate them even if I wanted to.”
No matter how critically acclaimed your work is, he always has something to say about it.
Even if it was in the back of an alley with his hands gripping your hips tightly and teeth nipping at your neck.
"It took until a quarter of the way through the movie before- hah- your cinematography finally showed some signs of thought put into the shots. I know you can do better than this. So why- mmph- did it take you so long?"
You angrily nip on his bottom lip. A flash of satisfaction runs through you when you hear him hiss and taste blood on the tip of your tongue.
“Like you’re one to talk with the horrendous pacing of your newest film! Tell me, what was the plot of it again? Because I- mmm!?- already forgot the direction it was supposed to be taking twenty minutes in!”
"Well, you just simply lack reading comprehension. Not my fault, of course.”
“Oh, you little piece of-!”
He shuts you up with a rough and messy kiss. Your legs immediately go jelly and were it not for his leg slotted between yours and pushing you up against the wall, you think you would’ve collapsed right there and then.
When he pulls away, your lips are glossy and swollen. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that makes him smirk in satisfaction and without any hesitation, he pulls out his camera to take a few shots.
“Yes, yes, wonderful! That expression really suits you!”
Anger looks good on you, but he much rather prefers this expression.
He leans in for another kiss and because you can’t say no to him, you indulge him- until you hear footsteps nearby. You hurriedly clamp your hand over his mouth and wait until they’re gone before glaring at him.
“Stop running your mouth so much in public! You’ll give us away at this point!”
“Then stop being so loud,” he hisses back, though he’s in no better state than you, his-already-disheveled hair an absolute mess now from you gripping it. His flushed face is littered with lipstick marks and you can’t resist the temptation to add a few more.
“Cheeky, aren’t you?” he huffs out as you place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. A soft kiss to his eyelid makes his eyes flutter shut and an affectionate sigh escape him. He smells of the chemicals used to develop film and strong coffee

Then there’s a gasp and the undeniable sound of a camera shutter going off. Caught red handed.
You pull apart from him with a surprised gasp and expression. Strangely, he doesn’t look fazed at all. Still as smug as ever.
You whirl around to see an equally-shocked photographer standing there. Paparazzi, from the looks of it. He was probably going around and looking for some potential shots before accidentally stumbling upon something that would make front-page headlines. When you look back at him, then at the photographer, there’s even more people now snapping away at the two of you in a compromising position.
With the damage already done, you try to leave before he stops you. His jacket resting on your shoulders dwarfs your smaller frame and he yanks on the film strip belt to reel you back in. The crowd of photographers has doubled now, murmuring excitedly to themselves.
“Wh- let go! The paparazzi are having a field day-!”
He silences you with a swift kiss and a pinch to the inner thigh. The cameras flash even more rapidly now.
“Let them see for all I care.”
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enjoyed this? my taglist is open!
@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai
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xshadowdelta · 9 months ago
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Former Manager
Part One: Back in town.
Jo Yuri x Male Reader (2.9K Length)
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The abrupt movements and the deceleration sensation alerted you, waking you up. Automatically you took a quick look out through the window of your seat, the clouds gave way to a landscape that brought back many memories, it wasn’t your first time landing at the Incheon Airport.
You got off the plane, taking your suitcase ready to leave the terminal. Breathing the air of that place in an attempt to calm you down, but you failed when all your memories flooded into your brain in a succession of images.
You started to walk thinking about it thoroughly, that nerves invade your body was kind of stupid being honest, you had done this before and with a lot more pressure according to yourself, after all not everyone could boast of have been a manager for the popular girl group Iz*One.
That’s right, after committing the biggest folly of your life by deciding to move to South Korea instead of go to the college you found a miracle job, specifically being one of the Iz*One managers for 1 year and a half. That was until due to some personal reasons you were forced to return to your home country. And 4 years later here you are, back in the Asian country to resume your job as a manager.
You were surprised when Wake One Entertainment contacted you offering a new job. Apparently they didn’t have enough managers in the company due to the arrival of new groups, which caused a total restructuring of the staff, leaving Kep1er in search of a new manager. That’s where you and your good work done with Iz*One years ago came in, knowing that the new head of the staff was one of your coworkers at that time.
It was a really complicated decision to make for several reasons: 1. You hadn't spoken the language for a long period of time. 2. Take care of a group full of teenage divas wasn’t an easy job. 3. And you were comfortable in your current job. Seen this way, only a crazy person would accept that offer. Exactly what you did 5 minutes later.
You came back down to earth as the cab stopped, and you were able to see right in front of you the Wake One building. You walked inside the building and introduced yourself to the front desk indicating that you were coming for the manager vacancy, one of the receptionists guided you to the conference room where your interview would take place.
The interview was nothing more than a formality, obviously the vacancy was yours, but certain guideline had to be met.
They told you that the Kep1er girls were currently in the USA for the KCON, so you would not start working with them until the next week, once they returned.
You returned to the main lobby, the keys of your new house were given to you alongside your company car with some more documents to sign.
It was at that moment meanwhile you were signing the documents that you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. “Manager oppa!”
You turned yourself to face the former Iz*One member and now soloist, Jo Yuri. “It is really you, manager oppa!?” She shouted in surprise, covering her mouth with her hands.
Your heart almost skipped a beat as you looked her up and down. She was no longer that little girl she used to be when you were spending your days with her. Even though she had grown up, she still had that youthful look.
“Excuse me, but
” You left the pen over the desk. “Do i know you?”
Her facial expression faded as soon as you said that, turning from surprise to annoyance.
“Do you really forgot about me, oppa!?” Her louder and offended voice made you laugh and making her even angrier.
“I couldn’t forget you so easy, Yuri.” You told her showing a smile and she sigh annoyed. “You still like teasing me. But it’s been a long time, what are you doing here?” Her tone sounded cheerful again.
“Woah, so now you’ll be managing Kep1er, they are so lucky to have you I envy them, but now I have to record my new song, hope to see you often around the company, oppa!” You said goodbye to her as you watched her to disappear when the elevator closed its doors, didn’t expect to meet one of your former members so soon.
You walked out the building to take the car and drive right to your new home, making a quick stop in a convenience store to buy some fast food for dinner accompanied by a drink.
Finally, you arrived at home, left the food bag and some papers on a nearby table and plopped down on the sofa visibly tired, jet lag was taking its toll.
Even so, you found the strength to browse through some things and investigate more about your new members while you had dinner. You were relieved to know that they were fewer than the last time, although from what you could see in some videos they seemed louder, especially that little girl named Hikaru.
You finished for today, noticing that it was already dark outside and decided to take a long relaxing shower before getting into bed, whereas you tried to fall asleep your memories of years ago with the Iz*One girls came flooding back.
After your step down you had been following from the distance the evolution of every member career, and you couldn't be more proud of each one of them, but seeing them now in real life would be a different feeling.
Then you remembered the brief encounter with Yuri in the company, you began to think about how much she changed in these years, she was one of the younger members back then, but now she seemed so much mature.
You couldn’t help but think how much her body had changed this time, she was all grown up and transform into a real woman. You even noticed how good she fit in those jeans she was wearing today that enhanced her hips and showed off her ass.
BUT WHAT THE HELL I AM EVEN THINKING! You shouted in your mind sitting up in the bed breathing heavily, how you could be thinking about her in that way, about one of the girls you took care for almost two years, the one you practically treated like a younger sister.
You lay back down in bed again, looking at the ceiling and then looked down at your pelvic area, noticing the big erection that had formed under your pants. “I must be sick.” You whispered, slipping your hand under your clothes, trying to stimulate yourself before falling asleep.
The next morning you made your way to the company, but first you took a shower and had breakfast that only consists of a coffee cup and a couple of cookies. The biggest part of the day happened in the office, you had so much work to do before Kep1er returned from their activities.
Around lunchtime someone knocked to your door, you stretched out on the chair giving way to the person who has knocked. “Oppa, let’s have lunch together!” Yuri exclaimed showing her head out the door.
She burst into your office carrying a heavy bag that lifted it to your eyes level.
“Yuri
”
“I assumed that you'll have a lot of work in your first day, and you always insisted me on not skipping meals, so it’s my time to pay you back.” she said with a big smile. She had touched you there.
“I really missed tteokbokki.” You said eating the food. Yuri was sitting in the chair in front of you, she wasn’t eating but admiring you. “Do I have to remind you that you also have to eat?” You scolded her, but she just laughed at it. “Don’t worry about me, I want to eat other type of food
” “Which one?” You asked, taking one more fried chicken piece. “You.” Hearing that made the piece of chicken slip on your chopsticks and roll off the desk, you couldn’t say anything, you were petrified.
“You spend a lot of time with Yena, now you also replicate her stupid jokes.”
“It’s not a joke, oppa.” For the first time ever you could see an unusual expression on her face, one you have never seen before, what was going on with her?
“Yuri, stop this joke now, it’s not funny
” “I’ve already told you, it’s not a joke
” She said standing up from her chair and crawled under your desk, reaching you.
“Yuri! What are you doing?”
“You are so tense, oppa, you should relax.” At this point she was fully under your desk reaching your legs and touching between them, why was this happening to you?
“I always thought that the first one to do something like this with you would be Eunbi unnie, years ago I found out she was talking about it together with Hyewon unnie and Chaeyeon unnie.” Hear that made you open wide your eyes, it couldn’t be true. “It’s kind of normal, a young women group with raging hormones and such a young manager, kind and attractive, it’s every girl’s dream.”
But she was right, back then you were too much young to managing a group, actually you still are today, even Eunbi was older than you. That’s why you considered all of them as your sisters, and that’s why this situation was so complicated.
“Yuri
we both knows this is so wrong.” You tried to reason with her.
“You are not my manager anymore and we both are adults, but mostly important
” She touched the huge bulge that had already formed under your pants. “You really desire it, don’t you?”
“Yuri, please, anyone could come in at any moment.” Your words were useless, she was already unbuckling the belt of your pants, and you couldn’t or rather didn’t want to do anything to stop her. A few seconds later you could felt how your penis was set free.
“IT’S SO BIG!” She exclaimed, amazed by the size of your dick, making you shift restlessly in your seat.
“Lower your voice, someone could hear you.” You scold her and became more and more anxious as you looked towards the door of your office.
“Sorry, it’s just
it’s incredible oppa.”
Her eyes couldn't be apart from your dick, she was totally hypnotized looking at it, but suddenly she started to massage your penis with her hands, making you moan.
She ran her tongue all over your length, from the tip to your balls and repeated this for a while, at each repeat your cock was more and more wet and your knuckles were turning white due to the strength you were grappling to the chair armrest.
She looked at your face still kneeling down ad if she was asking for permission to continue, you succumbed to the temptation, you had already fallen time ago, and nodded your head. Then she opened her mouth and put every inch of your cock she could inside her. She was struggling to make you be fully inside her mouth, but you were so much huge to her, so she decided to move her tongue around the part of your dick that was already inside.
You couldn’t describe what you were feeling at that moment, it was the nearest to being in pleasure paradise you never experienced. Yuri’s tongue didn’t stop moving over your penis, constants moves that went in unison with your moans.
She made an effort to make you fit completely in her mouth, you looked at her, noticing her cheeks filled with your cock. You let out a loud moan as the tip of your cock brushed against her throat.
She peeled herself off you for air, gasping visibly and with a large thread of saliva coming out of her mouth, masturbating you meanwhile she tried to recover.
“How the hell are you so good at this?” She smiled, taking that as a compliment. “I’ve dreamed a lot of times with this moment, I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s certainly better than masturbating by myself like last night.” You mentioned out loud as if you were talking to yourself. It took you a second to realize your mistake.
“Wait, what I wanted to say was
”
“I see.” She cut you off. “Manager oppa is a dirty man who has always thought about having me like this with him.”
“NO!” You quickly denied provoking her loud laughs.
“But it makes me happy, because you were always good and kind to me, so it’s my time to make oppa’s fantasies come true” She said bringing your cock closing to her mouth once again.
“What you mean?” You asked when a sinister smiled was formed on her face.
“Fuck my mouth, oppa.”
And there you lost the last shred of self-control you had, if you still had any.
As soon as she resumed the blowjob, you put one of your hands behind her head, making her swallow the entire of your length. Yuri supported her hands on your chair, trying to follow with her head the pace that you were now setting.
You could hear how she was choking on your cock every time your hands down her head into it. A bit worried, you tried to be less rude and give her a rest, but her hands stopped you, telling you that she was enjoying this as much as you.
“My god, Yuri...just like that
” You kept moaning, grabbing her hair that was falling into her forehead at the same time you started to move your hips making you go deeper on her mouth, fucking her throat.
She looked at you with fire in her eyes, telling you with her gaze that she wanted even more, you didn’t hesitate and kept fucking her mouth more aggressively.
You let her go, giving her time to catch her breath, her eyes were watering, and her makeup was totally ruined. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.
You bent down to lift her chin and kiss her passionate for a while until you separated from her and leaned back in your seat. You took your own penis in your hands, offering it to her.
“Finish the job.”
She immediately went back to sucking you desperately, her mouth was already habituated perfectly to your size, so you could notice how she was improved by the time pass.
You took her hands, forcing her to satisfy you using only her head. Sometimes it would slip out of her mouth and she would struggle to suck it back in, completely possessed by lust.
Her face was between your hands now, you couldn’t stop admiring the way she was sucking you, she placed your penis into her right cheek then you touched the resultant bulge, she stopped then and let your dick rest in her mouth closing her eyes enjoying your caresses.
If it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but unfortunately it was time to end.
“Make sure to swallow it all.” You warned moving your hips faster feeling your load concentrating on your tip letting you know you were ready for the shot.
“YURI!” You screamed, unable to hold back any longer, reaching the orgasm and shooting your cum straight down her throat.
She did her best to hold it all in, but at the end a bit of cum dripped out of her mouth and ran down her chin to finally fall to the office floor.
The rest of your cum was still inside her mouth, she stepped back and opened her mouth to show you the amount of cum you gave to her. You watched her swallow all your cum at once, and that made you feel hornier than ever.
“Good girl.” You smiled at her.
She smiled you back and stood up, grabbing her bag to pull out a small makeup set, and trying to fix the mess you both made on her.
“Good as new.” She said, looking at herself in the small mirror. “Thanks for the meal oppa, hope we can repeat.” And she winked at you, making you come back to reality.
“Yuri, this was amazing, believe me, but it can’t happen again, or I will be in problems.”
“You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure no one would discover us and
” Her cheeks turned red for a second.
“And?”
“I was thinking, maybe oppa can teach me a lot of things
” Oh, she was talking on that sense.
Your cheeks went also full red color and your brain started to malfunction, trying hard to formalize an excuse, a reason to refuse while she headed towards the door.
“Oh, I almost forget about it.” She stopped in the doorway.
“I told the girls about you, and they want to see you, Eunbi unnie will host a dinner party for us tonight in her house, you can’t miss it!” She said cheerful before leaving the office.
“Great, just what I needed.” You mumbled to yourself in an ironic way, throwing yourself back in the chair, noticing that you still had your member free, and hurried to get dressed again.
You slammed your face against the desk causing a louder sound and let it out a big sigh. “I’m going to get fired.”
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p0orbaby · 8 months ago
Text
The Dog House
summary: leah misses date night, she tries to make it up to you
warnings: leah being leah i guess

a/n: based off this request !
word count: 1.2k
-
Leah’s been distracted lately. It’s not that you’re not important to her—you are—but there’s a lot going on. Training, media obligations, a sudden obsession with learning to bake sourdough bread for reasons you don’t quite understand. And her house is full of these massive jars of starter that she’s named things like “Gertrude” and “Stephen” and “Samantha.” Stephen’s the strongest one, apparently. Not that you care.
You’re trying to be supportive. Really, you are. But it’s getting weird.
So when you text her a gentle reminder about date night, you’re half-expecting a response that sounds like it’s written by one of those clunky bots—like, “Of course, darling! Can’t wait to see you tonight! ❀❀❀” That’s what she’d usually do. Instead, you get nothing.
Hours pass. You start to get annoyed. Then you get anxious. Then you start wondering if maybe Leah’s planning some big surprise and that’s why she’s not responding. You imagine her secretly arranging a rooftop dinner with fairy lights and a string quartet, where she’ll confess she’s been so preoccupied because she’s actually writing a book about how incredible you are.
But then you come back to reality and grasp she probably just forgot.
By 7 PM, you’re pacing around the flat, wearing the outfit you picked out two days ago—a dress you specifically bought because Leah said you looked “so fucking sexy” in red, even though it’s so tight you can’t even breathe properly. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled, and you’re sitting on the couch, stewing in a potent cocktail of Chanel No. 5 and disappointment.
Finally, you text her again.
> Hey, you on your way?
Nothing.
Ten minutes later, still nothing.
By 8 PM, you’re starting to wonder what the protocol is for someone forgetting a date night. Do you call? Do you show up to their house with a “We need to talk” face? Do you
 dump them? No, that’s too extreme, even though it would make a great story for your friends.
Finally, at 8:13, your phone buzzes.
> Shit. Be there in 20. Promise. Don’t hate me
You almost laugh, except you’re too irritated to find anything funny right now. Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes is nothing. She probably still smells like whatever alien protein shakes she drinks after training, which you pretend to like but secretly think taste like a mix of chalk and regret.
But you wait. Because you love her. Or because you’re a sucker. Or both.
Leah arrives at 8:42, disheveled and clearly not sorry enough. She’s holding a Tesco bag, which is never a good sign. Tesco bags mean last-minute attempts at forgiveness, and you don’t care how cute she looks in her sweats.
Okay, you care a little, but still.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as she bursts through the door, dropping the bag for life onto the floor like she’s just run a marathon. “I lost track of time”
You cross your arms and give her a look. The kind of look that says, Really?
“I know, I know,” she continues, talking at a speed that suggests she’s trying to cram a day’s worth of apologies into the next thirty seconds. “I’ve been so caught up with—”
“—Stephen?”
Leah blinks. “Stephen?”
“Your sourdough. Stephen”
“Oh. Right.” Leah runs a hand through her hair, which only makes it messier. “I might’ve forgotten to feed him, too”
“I’m sure he’s devastated,” you say, deadpan.
“I’m devastated,” Leah says, doing her best impression of someone who’s sincerely regretful. She takes a step closer, giving you that puppy-dog look that normally melts you but tonight just feels like she’s trying to disarm a bomb. “But I have a plan”
You raise an eyebrow. “A plan?”
“Yeah. A plan to make it up to you.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s about to reveal a new Tesla or something.
You stare at her, unimpressed. “Does it involve anything that’s not in that bag?”
She laughs, and you can’t help but soften a little. She’s got this laugh that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay, even when she’s screwed up royally.
“Come on,” she says, grabbing the bag and heading to the kitchen. “Trust me. You’ll love it”
You don’t follow her immediately. You want to see how this plays out before you commit to pretending everything is okay. So you stand there in the doorway, watching as she pulls out ingredients that don’t really go together.
“Leah, what exactly are you planning to do with pickles, chocolate syrup, and a single red onion?”
She grins at you like she’s just cracked the code to the universe. “It’s a surprise”
“I’m surprised you even made it here alive if that’s what you’ve been eating lately”
Leah’s grin doesn’t waver. She’s on a mission now, and there’s no stopping her. “Look, just sit down. I’ve got this”
You sit, but mostly because your feet hurt in the heels you’re wearing and the sofa is closer than the bedroom. Leah’s bustling around the kitchen, and you can’t tell if she’s actually cooking or just making noise to buy herself more time.
Minutes later, she emerges with a tray. The tray has candles on it, which is at least a step in the right direction. Then you see what she’s made.
Two plates of what can only be described as
 nachos. But they’re not nachos. They’re a weird interpretation of nachos where the tortilla chips have been replaced with some kind of protein bar, the cheese is
 okay, there’s no cheese, and the toppings are just random things she found in your fridge.
She sets the tray down in front of you with the pride of a five-star chef presenting their signature dish.
“Voilà!” she announces, beaming.
You stare at the concoction in front of you, then back at her. “Leah, what the hell is this?”
“It’s my way of saying sorry”
You look at her, then at the nachos again. “You could’ve just said ‘I’m sorry’ like a normal person”
“But this is better,” she insists, her enthusiasm unwavering. “It’s like, an experience”
“Yeah, I’m experiencing regret,” you say, eyeing the “nachos” with suspicion.
Leah laughs again, this time a little sheepishly. “Okay, so maybe the food’s not great. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“You’re seriously expecting me to eat this?” you ask, poking at one of the protein bars with your fork like it might bite back.
Leah’s face falls just a little, and suddenly, you realise that she’s actually trying. She’s terrible at this—so, so terrible—but she’s trying.
And that’s why you love her.
“Fine,” you say with a sigh. “But if I get food poisoning, you’re sleeping on the couch”
She grins, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “Deal”
You end up eating the nachos. They’re awful, but Leah’s so happy you’re eating them that you can’t help but smile. She’s sitting there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and you can’t help but remember that this is her way of showing she cares.
After dinner, she pulls out a bottle of wine—an actual, normal bottle of wine—and the two of you sit on the sofa, talking and laughing until you’re both too tired to keep your eyes open.
She falls asleep first, her head on your shoulder, snoring softly. You’re still a little annoyed at her, but you know she’ll make it up to you in other ways. And tomorrow, you’ll probably laugh about this whole thing.
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perseephoneee · 1 year ago
Note
PLEASE do something super fluffy with kol mikealson
i love ur work sm!!
babe you're making my day. hope this is something akin to what you wanted.
"you're red." "shut up." "like actually vermillion." (kol mikaelson x f!reader)
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warnings: kissing?? also hatred towards bed and breakfasts
a/n: i forgot how much i love writing for kol. sorry for the large writing break...hope this makes up for it?
↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist
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You hate Kol Mikaelson. 
He’s cocky, impulsive, and constantly getting you into danger that you would never find for yourself. He also relentlessly flirts with you until you’re warm and deeply frustrated.  He’s complicated enough that you wish he wasn’t a part of your life so it could resume a sense of normalcy. 
Getting caught up in Mikaelson drama was never your plan. You just happened to make the mistake of working as a bartender at Russo’s—where they frequented. Klaus took a liking to you, and the rest is history. Being a human that’s friends with vampires is like poking a bear; not recommended nor convenient. 
This recent conflict was forgettable but proved to be a disruption to your life. One of them annoyed someone, and that someone wanted revenge, and now apparently you were in danger, and so on and so forth. You have repeatedly debated sending an invoice to the Mikaelson compound for restitution. You don’t think Klaus would find it very funny. 
You almost forgot about your life being in danger until you were forced to go on the run with the youngest brother, Kol. Kol, who insisted on driving you nuts. You kept trying to tune him out in the car, listening to the radio or focusing on the trees speeding past your window. Still, he was relentless and wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. Plus, he was a horribly reckless driver, and you were gripping the door so tightly that you might hurt a muscle any minute. 
“I’ve lived for a very long time, but I’ve never visited Fes,” Kol said, one hand on the wheel as the other tapped on the door. You barely spared him a glance. “Would you visit Fes?”
“Not even sure what Fes is,” you answered through gritted teeth, suppressing a yelp as Kol took a turn obnoxiously fast. 
“City in Morocco considered its cultural capital.”
“You sound like a Google search,” you scoffed, sparing him half a glance. Long enough of a glance for Kol to give you a toothy grin, his canines glinting in the sunlight. 
“I like knowing things,” he states, squinting at you. “I don’t know much about you. Tell me something.”
“No.”
“Please?” he begged, every bit a kid enjoying picking on the new kid on the playground. You fixed him with a dead stare. 
“I hate your driving.” That caused him to laugh, which made him throw his head back and speed up even more. You clutched the handle and clenched your teeth till you felt your whole body would seize up. Kol eventually took pity on you and slowed down. It was enough for you to relax
slightly. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere. Anywhere. Haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Brilliant. I’m going to die out here,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the leather seat. 
“Nonsense. Nik would dagger me if I let that happen, and I’m very tired of being daggered.”
“Not because you care about me or want me to live?” you jested, quirking a brow at him. 
“Now, why would I care about you at all?”
You pretended it didn’t sting, even though it felt impossible for you to care about Kol. Still, hearing him say it felt a bit like a slap in the face. You just turned more out the window, ignoring him. You didn’t notice the sharp look he sent you, as if he regretted what he said. 
Instead, you notice a sign advertising a Black Bear Diner. You perk up immediately, tapping the window and looking back at Kol. 
“There. Stop there.”
“That piece of garbage?”
“Yes! Stop the car!” you shouted, regretting your words when Kol slammed on the brakes. “Stop the car slowly, you asswipe.”
“You should’ve clarified that,” he smirked. You jumped out of the car, ran towards the restaurant, and experienced euphoria when the smell of waffles and fresh coffee hit your senses. Kol walked up slowly, hands in his pockets. The sun was obnoxious out here, but there were enough trees in the area to not make it feel like a desert. You could even see the mountain in the background in all its snowcapped glory. 
The inside of the diner was a welcome breeze on your damp skin. It wasn’t very crowded, and you got seated immediately as you happily flipped through your plastic menu. Kol looked slightly uncomfortable sitting in the diner, but you ignored him. You were getting pretty good at ignoring him. 
“I used to go here all the time with my family,” you said, flipping to the drinks page of your menu. “Not this exact location
but this chain. I went to it when I first moved to my hometown.”
“It’s barely gourmet.”
“Fuck gourmet, I want comfort. I want to feel like home,” you laughed, closing your menu. “Don’t you want that?”
“Home?” Kol inquired. “Not sure what that is anymore.”
Your lips turned down in a frown, but you offered nothing else. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, and you wouldn’t force him. The waiter came over to take your orders, and you happily ordered a black coffee, orange juice, and a waffle platter. After they left, you started packing your bag with the tiny jams and creamers they had out on the table. Kol just looked at you in disdain. 
“You are pathetic.”
“Rent is expensive, groceries are expensive, give me a break,” you snorted, taking a few sugar packets for good measure before you stopped looting. Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his seat. His leg bounced from anxiety, and his fingers tapped the table in a paradiddle pattern, just left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right over and over again. He looked shockingly young, like the boy before he turned, and not the man he paraded as. For a split second, you could see yourself having a crush on him in high school if he was one of your peers. You erased that thought as soon as it came. “Can I ask a question?” you leaned forward on the table, arms folded in front of you. “Why are you guys always protecting me? I’m definitely a liability.”
“I think my brother just wants to sleep with you,” Kol sighed. You snorted, biting your bottom lip to subvert your laughter. Honestly
you have managed to weasel your way into our family—like a parasite.”
“Aw, your words are so kind,” you rolled your eyes, kicking Kol under the table. He just kicked you right back, wearing a smirk. “And I would never sleep with your brother.”
“Why’s that?” Kol questioned, crossing his arms. 
“His face is weird,” you answered. Kol put his head in his hands in laughter, and you joined him a second later. You weren’t sure if that was the reason, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and you didn’t think to change it. Plus, it made Kol laugh, which kind of made you happy. The arrival of your waffles made you even happier. 
“Bloody hell, you’re going to eat all of that?” Kol looked shocked, eyes flicking between you and your waffles. He had ordered a much smaller plate than yours. Yours likely could’ve been a party platter. 
“Yes, and I will do it with pride.”
You did eat all of it, and enjoyed Kol’s expression the whole time. He looked so disturbed it made up for it. You also drank all your coffee, orange juice, and free water refills. Your plan was to eat enough to enter hibernation. You even think Kol was a little impressed at some point. Kol asked the waiter for the nearest hotel, and they pointed you to a place three miles down the road that would likely have openings. By the time you left the diner, it was starting to get cold as the sun was setting. You could hear crickets; you probably would’ve gotten fireflies if you were more south. Kol drove surprisingly slow towards the hotel, which you attributed to his worry that going fast would cause you to throw up your entire waffle extravaganza. He slowed down even more when you came up to the “hotel”—which was actually just a bed and breakfast. An extremely cutesy bed and breakfast. 
The inside of the building was somehow worse than the outside. 
The outside had small-town charm. The inside was where doilies went to die. 
Both you and Kol exchanged glances as he went up to ring the bell. You counted seven cat portraits before a portly woman came out with a cheeky smile. She wore a linen frock and a floral dress right out of the 1960s. 
“Well, good evening,” she smiled. “What can I do for you?” She had a thick Minnesotan accent, and her smile made her eyes. Overall, she radiated friendliness. 
“We’d like a room?” you inquired, leaning against the counter. 
“Oh, you betcha! Lucky for you, I got the best suite in the house available. It’s perfect for you two lovebirds,” she chirped. Your eyes widened. 
“Oh, uh, we’re not together
,” you coughed. You turned to look at Kol, who just shrugged his shoulders. Completely useless. “Do you have a double?”
“Unfortunately, all our doubles are booked for our birding convention. I might have a futon available to bring to your room?”
“Perfect,” Kol smiled, finally interjecting. “We’ll take that.”
“Splendid! Here are your keys, and I’ll have you sign in there.”
You brought your one bag with you up the stairs and to the right to a room at the end of the hall. The wallpaper was mocking you at every turn, a plethora of orchids and pinks staring at you, along with the eyes of fifty million felines. You were certain Dolores Umbridge was hiding somewhere amongst the foliage. The room was less pink but still reminiscent of something in a senior home. The bed was the nicest part: a large four-poster with mahogany bedposts. The wallpaper was sage color with pictures of ferns. The ensuite bathroom had a clawfoot tub and gold dĂ©cor. A painting of a young boy eating ice cream was on the wall. You immediately took it off the wall and turned it around so you didn’t have to look at it all night. 
“It’s a little
”
“Cozy?” Kol interjected, closing the door behind you two. 
“I was going to say tight.”
“It is the lovebird suite, darling,” Kol whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. A shiver ran down your spine. 
“I’ll take the futon.”
“I doubt you could fit a futon in here,” Kol scoffed. He was right. There was really only room for the bed and bedside tables. Whoever designed this room intended to spend a lot of time in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought. You tapped your foot in thought before eventually sighing in defeat.
“Just
don’t get too handsy,” you shrugged, glaring at the vampire’s ever-present smirk. 
“Handsy? You must think me a rascal,” Kol cooed, stepping closer into your space. The room was tight, which meant you were backed against the wall. You felt like a rabbit being targeted by a fox, his mischievous grin and wandering eyes taking all of you in. Your eyes were drawn to how he licked his lips, and suddenly, your blood pressure spiked. Heat crawled up your neck, and you knew that Kol noticed. He always managed to notice. 
“Knock it off, Mikaelson,” you hissed, tilting your head up defiantly. 
“You’re actually red,” Kol chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 
“
Shut up,” you slapped his hand away, maneuvering your way from his grasp. 
“Like actually vermillion,” he laughed, and you gave him an unsavory gesture as you escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Back against the door, you breathed out, groaning into your hands. You pushed off the door, getting ready for bed in an effort to put this night behind you. You cleaned up, brushed your teeth, and put on pajamas. In hot weather, you usually just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed. Your t-shirt said, ‘I got lobotomized at Freddy Fazbear’s,’ something idiotic that you couldn’t even fully be ashamed of. When you exited, Kol was lying on top of the covers on his phone, having changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked up when you exited, snorting as he read the shirt. “You have an odd sense of humor.”
“It’s too evolved for you to understand,” you rolled your eyes, getting in on the other side of the bed and leaving space between the two of you. Kol smelled sweet, like vanilla, and it was slowly suffocating you. You both sat in silence for a second before Kol disrupted it. 
“Y/N,”
“No.”
“Darling,” he purred, inching closer to you. 
“What, Kol,” you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. 
“You like me,” he said. It was not a question, just something he exclaimed. You scoffed. 
“I do not.”
“You do. It’s why you blush vermillion when I call you things like darling,” he smiled, propping himself up on his elbow as he lay on his side to stare at you. 
“You’re incorrigible.”
“So, if I kissed you
you wouldn’t care,” Kol inquired, voice soft as he sat up slightly. You felt your heart skip a beat, and Kol’s mouth turned up slightly when he heard it. You knew you just proved his point, but you refused to concede. 
“I wouldn’t care,” you whispered, holding his gaze. 
“So, when I do this,” Kol leaned up, kissing your cheek, his lips burning your skin. He kissed right under your jaw, finally on your pulse point. “
it doesn’t matter?” 
You bit your tongue to stop yourself. “It doesn’t matter,” you choke out, but all you’re doing is spurring Kol on. You’re a hare caught in his trap, and you can’t even find it in yourself to hate it. Kol sucks on your pulse point, nipping lightly and moving down your neck, one hand coming up to tilt your head more to the side for easier access. His touch was shockingly gentle as if he was giving you an out. Your will was thinning by the minute, though, and eventually, you grabbed his hand, causing him to stop. 
“Darling—” he starts, but you cut him off by kissing his lips, soft but passionate. For once, you’ve taken him off guard, and a sense of pride spurs through you as you part, kissing the corner of his mouth and looking at him through thick lashes. 
“Does it matter?” you ask, voice breathy. “For you
” You’re not sure exactly what you’re asking, but you know there’s a line you’ve crossed that you can’t return from. Kol’s thumb brushes your cheek, so gentle from the reckless, hotheaded vampire you are acquainted with. A grin crosses his face. 
“It means everything,” he smiles, kissing you again, fingers tangling in your hair. Your hands find his arms, sighing as he deepens the kiss. You’re on fire, every single part of you, and you’re sure that Kol can feel your racing heart and hot skin. You like kissing him, though, and you realize you like him a lot. 
“Kol?” you breathe. “Don’t sleep on the futon.”
“For you? I would never,” he grins, kissing you again. You make sure to put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door for later. 


Afterwards.
It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you up.
“I guess Nik won’t be able to sleep with you now.”
“Kol.”
“Because I’ll be the only one sleeping with you.”
“Go to sleep.”
There’s a shuffling of blankets as his arm wraps tighter around you, his breath hot on your neck. 
“You’re going to be stuck with me forever,” he whispers. 
You smile. “I’m okay with that.”
taglist:: @rafecameronswhore
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specialagentlokitty · 4 months ago
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Remus x Student!reader - a unique bond
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Hullo! How are you? I was hoping you could do a platonic!Remus Lupin x student reader? Maybe she's also a werewolf, and so hearing people talking badly about werewolves, and lupin, she gets defensive about it? She grew up with her family having stigma against werewolves, and so having lupin during her last year really helped her (her friends knew, but couldn't really help during the moon itself). Sort of like a father-daughter relationship? - Anon💜
It wasn’t hard for you to notice there was another werewolf on site not long after Lupin had joined, and he immediately knew you were one when you were in his class.
He recognised the scars on you, similar to the ones he had, he saw all the signs and noticed it in the little things that you did.
However at first neither one of you wanted to approach the other and give yourselves away just in case you were wrong, so it was a long first few months of trying to avoid one another, especially on full moons until at one point you had a detention and had gotten out late, struggling to get out the school grounds before you transformed.
Lupin had noticed you hadn’t left at your usually time and had come back for you, quickly grabbing your hand he dragged you after come.
“Quickly now (Y/N).” He whispered.
“Professor Lupin?!” You whisper yelled back.
He glanced back at you before looking ahead, trying to lead you out the school as quickly as possible without being caught.
“Now don’t pretend you don’t already know, I have a feel we’ve both know about each other since I arrived correct?”
You nod a little bit as you jog after him.
Once outside Lupin let go your head, both of you slowly down to a walk as you left the school behind to get to a safe distance before the full moon rose.
“Now it’s not like you to risk it being so close to transforming, what happened?”
“I uh.. I had detention sir, and I was only just able to get out.”
Lupin nodded a little bit, draping his jacket over your shoulders and offering you his hand to help you get down a small ridge.
“I see, is everything alright? I’m aware you don’t go around causing trouble, so why the detention?”
“Oh I forgot my potions homework.”
“Ah not a wise choice given who your professor is.”
You shook your head a little bit, letting go of his hand once you were down the ridge and sat in front of the lake as the final rays of sunset hit the earth and the moon started to rise.
Lupin crouched down next to you, a calm but comforting presence.
He understood how terrifying this could be, especially as a teenager and he would try hold back his own transformation to make sure you were okay.
It became like clockwork after that he would always wait for you, make sure you transformed first, look after you as you were both werewolves.
He would follow you where you went he wasn’t far behind, almost like a protective father would be, and after he would take you back to his office and make you a cup of tea and give you a bar of chocolate.
Your friends knew about you, and as a result found out about Lupin but they were happy to keep his secret and he was happy for them to sneak into his office to check on you after full moons.
Not everybody was happy about Lupin however, and some, mainly Slytherins would make fun of him, whether it was the way he spoke, dressed, his scars.
He didn’t react to them, but you knew it bothered him, especially about his scars but he wouldn’t do anything to them though, not to students.
You however were a different story.
As you were sitting in the quad on your break with your friends reading you could hear the students again.
“He’s just so weird
” one whispered.
“I doubt he’ll last long none of the teachers in the position do, you saw the last ones, they’re all freaks.” Another scoffed.
“Apparently he was a student here.”
“Wonder how he even passed, he’s not that good at anything.”
You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore their comments but it was hard.
You looked up to Lupin, he was like a dad to you, showing you kindness you had never received before.
Seeing someone so kind, somebody who was so willing to help others and protect them just got to you, and without thinking you stood up.
Your friends tried to stop you but it was too late, you were already storming across the quad and you landed a punch on one of the students.
The boy wailed, immediately placing a hand over his nose while the others got their wands out and your friends did the same ready to have your back.
Other students crowded around while some ran to go get help before anything got out of hand.
“What’s your problem freak?!” One of them yelled.
“Don’t talk crap about people!”
“What that stupid Professor? Please he’s nothing compared to us.” She scoffed.
You didn’t even bother pulling out your wand, you just stormed forward, aiming to throw another punch but you were stopped by someone holding your shoulder.
“Now that is quite enough (L/N).” Mcgonagall scolded.
You pulled yourself free and carried on storming forward.
“Enough!” She called out.
Mcgonagall took your shoulder again, giving you a warning look while Snape dealt with the Slytherin students who were laughing.
“Last warning.” She said calmly.
“I don’t care!”
You pulled free once more.
“(L/N).”
That made you pause, turning your angry gaze to Lupin who walked over with his hands raised to show you he meant no harm.
He paused just in front of you.
“Calm yourself now, I imagine you’re already in enough trouble, let’s not make this any worse alright?”
“No! They don’t get to go around saying those things!”
“And they will be punished but there’s no need to make this worse for yourself, now will you come with me?”
As much as you wanted to refuse, to teach them a lesson you could see the slight pleading look in expression and you reluctantly nodded.
Lupin gave you a soft smile, leading the way to his office.
He didn’t need to look back to know that you were following him, he trusted you enough that you would.
Once you were far enough away from everybody he slowed his pace to walk next to you, seeing the furious expression in your face.
“Thank you.” He said quietly.
You glanced up at him.
“For defending me, you didn’t have to.”
“They’re wrong about you, about werewolves.”
Lupin smiled at you.
“You’re right, they are, but we can’t change peoples opinions. What matters is we know the truth.”
He opened his door for you, letting you walk in.
He was going to give you a detention of course, but he was also going to take it easy on you knowing you were only trying to do the right thing
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kkuzushi · 6 months ago
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I forgot it's my birthday today(22/10), I swear this is gonna be my last request for this month! 😭 Happy birthday fluff moment with scara? :3 thank you so muchđŸ«¶đŸ»
- 🎐 anon
Happy birthday, dearest🎐anon! Your requests are always appreciated in my blog, no need to worry about the amount. Enjoy this drabble and especially your day. <3
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The warm afternoon sun barely peeked through the towering trees you were under, leaves shading you from the rays. No rain today it seems—perfect weather for a stroll, no?
Kids passed by you, running and chasing each other with joyful glee on their faces. You smile, affected by their own cheerful demeanor. “Don’t go too far from the village,” you reminded. They nod to your words before continuing their own little game.
Once they’re out of your sight, you turn your gaze back to the path you were on, that is until a familiar, whimsical-looking creature at the corner of your eye appears. Quickly, your eye flickered towards it.
It’s an Aranara. The small creatures that often follow you around, although this one was colored in the palette of cyan. Its hat-like structure on the head makes you remember a certain individual.. You chuckle at the thought before noticing how the creature is now right beside your foot.
You tilt your head as you look down; it mimics you. It turns around and starts waddling away, then looks back at you, like it’s waiting for you to follow their lead.
Taking the silent hint, you start walking towards the creature who continues its merry way into the Gandharva Ville’s forest.
“Are you taking me somewhere?” You ask yet it doesn’t answer you at all. You shrugged, the way this little critter communicates with its body language is adorable.
As the two of you delved deeper into the forest, your hand swishing away the enormous leaves that would slap your face every turn you take, you notice the Aranaras increasing in number.
They all look at you, their smiley faces staring at your direction. You raise an eyebrow as the leader stops, “Are we lost?” You asked. Although that didn’t seem like the case when the leaves opened up to a small clearing.
Standing at the center, with an awkward stance and a birthday cake in his hands, was Wanderer. His indigo eyes met yours, just as the Aranaras watched the both of you.
As if he’s been repeating the same line in his head, he clears his throat, “Happy Birthday.”
You blinked, darting all over the place—the Aranaras, the cake, and Wanderer himself—Now you understand.
“What? Surprised?” Wanderer scoffed, though his lips curled upwards. He walked closer to you, the cake’s design now much more apparent. It looks handmade; the clumsy edges of the icing and the uneven size of ‘Happy Birthday!’ in the middle was a telltale sign.
“You baked this?” You beamed at him, the flames of candles above the icing reflecting in your pupils. He smirked, “Did you think I have no skills in the kitchen?”
You laughed, flattered at his efforts. Wanderer wouldn’t admit it openly so make sure to keep your eyes peeled, and you’ll notice just how much he cares deep down.
“Thank you,” Your genuine smile almost made him flustered. Almost. “Just make a wish or whatever you mortals do when blowing a candle,” Wanderer grumbled, pushing the cake closer to you.
Blowing the candle is too fast.. something’s missing. “No happy birthday song?” You feigned disappointment with a pout.
“No.” He said with no hesitation.
“But it’s my birthday.. can’t you make a small, tiny exception?” You plead.
Wanderer grumbled once more, you’re really not gonna let this go, are you? Before he could even make a choice himself, the Aranaras surrounding the two of you start humming the tune of ‘Happy Birthday’.
Nahida probably taught them.
With one last sigh, Wanderer starts mumbling, “hap.. birthd.. to you.. happy.. bi..” He lifts the cake as if hiding his face while singing. How humiliating.. but if it’s for you, how could he fully decline?
The last note fades, allowing the hat guy to regain his composure.
“Satisfied?”
“Very.”
And with that, you closed your eyes and made a wish, before blowing the candles. The critters start to bounce in joy once they see the flames disappear.
“Before you start to eat this teeth-wracking pastry,” Wanderer prompts, noticing the way you stared at the dessert he's holding. “There’s something else I prepared.”
One of the Aranaras stepped forward, holding a box larger than its own body. It waddled and floated up to you, handing a delicately wrapped present.
“Open it with care,” He says, watching the way your hand tugged with the blue blow at the top. The wrapper was actually so neat, you almost didn’t want to tear it—thankfully, it has an easily removable lid.
To your surprise, the item inside was lifted at the same time the lid was pulled off. Attached to the cover was a wind chime, which once again looked like it was handmade—no, it’s definitely handmade. The design looked similar with the veils hanging from his hat.
“You made this too?” You questioned with awe. The soft breeze of the wind hits the hanging carillons, moving with intricacy, a faint melody filling your ears.
“Should I be offended with how skeptical you are with my aptitudes?” His eyebrows furrowed, though it just seemed like a cat sulking.
You grinned, “No, no.. I’m just in awe.” It’s not everyday you see Wanderer handing out his own creations anyway, what’s there to not be shocked about?
“I like it. A lot.” You added, already planning on where to hang the wind chime. You closed the lid with care again, giving him yet another genuine smile, “Thank you, Wanderer.”
The indigo haired male averted his gaze from yours as he tugs on the end of his hat, “Just eat the cake.” He grumbled.
So what was the real birthday present? The wind chime or the lovely puppet’s presence?
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8em-em-em8 · 5 months ago
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After that last chapter I've got an idea where Izuku and Katsuki ends up as acquaintance more that real friends over the years because post canon Katsuki tries to put distance in between them to try to move on. Izuku often thinks about him and what they had but thinks the fact that they fell apart is more because they are both busy with their jobs than anything else. Doesn't realise he broke Katsuki's heart and no one tells him (they know, they just don't want to get murdered by Bakugo/make it worse since Midorya apparently chose Ochaco).
Bakugo gets married 2 years later, his partner is a fellow hero, a man, and he becomes a bit of a queer icon because of course Bakugo takes no bullshit. But yeah, most informations Izuku gets about Bakugo are either on the news or second hand from their mutual friends (Dynamight's affiliated to high risks fights missions and Deku more of a rescue guy now, helping when he can, so they don't meet often on the field).
Until one day several years later, Izuku has been living alone for a year, since he broke up with Ochaco, and someone is at the door at 9pm.
Opening the door is like a punch in the face : Katsuki looks tired, and his eyes are red rimmed, and even if Izuku hasn't seen him do so often in his life, it's obvious he cried. He has a big bag thrown over one of his shoulder, and on the other is resting the head of a sleeping toddler.
Izuku's only seen the baby in pictures before but she has the same face as her father even though her hair are a strong black rather than an untameable blond mop.
''Kacchan?''
''Hey nerd.'' Katsuki sounds embarrassed, but maybe too tired to be angry about it. ''I know we- I know we're not really friends anymore but... Can we crash here tonight?''
You don't have to ask Izuku twice, and maybe he doesn't understand yet, but he doesn't hesitate one second before taking Katsuki to his room.
''You sure?'' Katsuki hesitates on the threshold. ''Were are you going to sleep?''
''I'm sure. There is not enough space on the futon for two person and I'm pretty sure you'll want to stay with her. Haru, right?''
For a second, Katsuki looks at him and it's maybe the first time Izuku gets to see such a heartbreaking emotion on his face. He looks thankful, maybe even fond, but also profoundly sad.
''... Yeah, her name is Haru.'' he confirms, kissing her little forehead- and isn't that a sight. ''Forgot you never seen her before.'' Katsuki adds before putting a knee to the bed and carefully bending down to put his daughter on the wall side of the bed. The little girl doesn't stir, and after making sure she's well tucked, Katsuki follows Izuku out.
He let the door half open, probably to be sure to hear if Haru wakes up before he goes to bed.
They end up on the couch, Katsuki with his head in his hand. And Izuku is struck by how much he doesn't know his childhood friend anymore when he goes to rub his back but holds back, not sure how it will be received.
''Do you want to talk about it?'' he asks.
For a second silence rings in the appartement, only broken by the sound of the fridge, but then Katsuki's shoulder start to tremble and just like that he is crying again.
''I made a mistake.'' He says, voice rough while he rubs furiously at his eyes. ''I made a huge fucking mistake. I should have known, we should have talked about it, I should have seen the signs-''
When Izuku sees Katsuki's fists starting to fizzle, little tendrils of smoke escaping from between his clenched fingers, it's like all caution flies out the window : he immediately grads them, trying to soothe his friend.
''Kacchan.''
''I'm divorcing my husband.'' Katsuki spits, and here is the anger. The hate is so clear in his tear soaked eyes that even tho Izuku himself never men him, he despites the man instantly.
''Did he... Did he cheat on you?'' Izuku tries, wanting to understand.
Katsuki's laugh is bitter and cold.
''If only.'' he rubs at his eyes again, but then he puts his hand back in Izuku's and Izuku is embarrassed to feel warmth at that gesture, to see that even after all these years, he can still be a source of comfort for Kacchan. ''This afternoon we... We learned that Haru is quirkless.''
Oh.
Oh.
Izuku feels like he was doused with an ice water bucket. Involuntarily his fingers clench on Katsuki's hand.
''What happened?'' he asks, not even sure he's ready for the answer.
''Ueda he- it's like I didn't know him anymore. He started to shout at everyone, he insulted the doctor, called our surrogate mother all the names he could think of, as if it was her fault. As there was any fault to have.'' Izuku can feel his eyes fill with tears, his eyes bored into Katsuki's panicked ones. ''I swear 'Zuku, I tried to talk to him about it, I fucking swear. But he didn't want to hear anything, he- he called Haru useless. I thought she was in her room, I didn't want her to hear all that shit but she came out to ask for a drink and he just pointed at her and said he wouldn't have an useless kid.'' another sob breaks Katsuki's voice and now they are both gripping at each other. Their clenched hands are uncomfortable with sweat but it's the last of Izuku's problems, because right now Katsuki needs him. ''I swear she's the only reason I didn't kill him on the spot. I just took her overnight bag and we left. You were the only person I could think of.''
Izuku nods, and hesitantly he lifts a hand, just a suggestion, but Katsuki doesn't seems to think about it long before Izuku is engulfed in a desperate hug. He can feel that Katsuki is still crying, he knows it's better not to say anything about it. Instead Izuku rocks his friend, just a little.
''You did good. The both of you can stay as long as you want.''
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comic-book-jawns · 8 months ago
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Ripples
“Aunt Lena!”
Alex would be the first to admit that she could have reacted poorly to her 12-year-old daughter asking if her godmother could chaperone the sixth grade field trip to the Smithsonian’s first West Coast expansion — the Museum of Magic, which she had already visited with Lena the day it opened — when Alex had gone to sign the permission slip.
And that she probably would have if her wife hadn’t preemptively swooped in, telling Esme — but really Alex — that of course she could ask whoever she wanted.
Alex had snorted to herself at the idea of Esme needing to ask. But fortunately, the preteen had already been slipping off the kitchen stool and whipping out her phone with a giddy “thanks,” so Alex had needed only to contend with Kelly’s sympathetic disappointment.
Now, two months later, the former director of the Deparment of Extranormal Operations, literally stopped in her tracks at the sight of a horde of middle schoolers, maybe half the class, beaming and cheering in unison at 6 a.m.
At least a dozen even rushed at the former CEO, taking turns giving her quick hugs, which Lena accepted with a small, but exceedingly warm, smile and faint blush.
“Ms. Smith, I think it’s time we got on the bus. Now that our guest of honor has arrived?”
Kelsey Rudd.
Despite Kelly’s cautionings, back when Esme was starting kindergarten, about not rushing to judge other parents
 Alex’s rushed judgment had been correct.
Kelsey Rudd was a stuck-up bitch.
So far Alex had held her tongue, though, because Gianna Rudd had been Esme’s best friend since kindergarten. Naturally, Alex had laughed at the irony for years. Until Kelly had asked her to consider that Gianna, who was truly a very sweet girl, might not be so close to Esme solely because of Esme.
Alex had assumed her wife meant that Gianna appreciated the opportunity that playdates or hang-outs, as she was now supposed to call them, afforded her to not spend as much time at home — which she had not, to her shame, considered.
Watching Gianna meekly shuffle out of Lena’s embrace, however — as Lena tensed and stepped back simultaneously — Alex felt even more humbled.
And next thing she knew she was ruining her day.
“Hey, Ms. Smith. Need any more chaperones?”
“Actually, yeah! A couple just called out, so that would be amazing.”
Alex couldn’t tell if the clipboard-clad twenty-something was more relieved at the extra help or the excuse to step away from Kelsey
 who promptly slung her arm around Alex like they were old sorority sisters.
“Any chance you got a flask in that jacket?”
——
After they stepped off the bus 12 hours later, and Kelsey offered her a parting air cheek kiss and promise to catch up again soon, Alex swore her ears were still ringing.
She knew that it had been worth it, though.
Even before she’d ushered Kelsey into a seat at the front of the bus this morning and glanced at the back to find Esme already watching her with a grateful smile.
Even before Esme and Lena finally said their goodbyes to the fan club and made it over to where she was waiting by the car and her daughter hugged her extra tight before sliding into the backseat.
“How’s the headache?”
Alex could haven’t stifled the bark of laughter if she’d tried at her sister-in-law’s dry greeting. With how sappy Lena got around Kara, Alex sometimes forgot how similar she and Lena actually were.
“I’ll live. I feel like I should be asking you, though. I had one adult talking my ear off. Not 20 tweens.”
Up close, the younger woman’s blush was quite prominent as she chuckled
 or tried to.
“Lena?”
Alex stepped closer on instinct, lightly gripping her elbows, as she knew Lena found grounding.
“Thank you, Alex.”
Alex was already shaking her head, her gut twisting guilty, but apparently Lena wasn’t finished.
“I don’t know if it’s just the hormones talking, but I - I think this was one of the best days of my life.”
Alex had never stood in the way of Esme spending time with her godmother. Obviously.
Though she also, obviously, couldn’t have said before today that she realized the impact giving her blessing for Lena to volunteer at Esme’s school and occasionally asking if Lena was available to supervise Esme’s playdates over the years had had.
On her daughter’s classmates, let alone on her sister-in-law.
“Imagine if they knew you were a witch. They wouldn’t have given a shit about the museum.”
Lena laughed brightly, the way usually only Kara could make her, and Alex felt a hint of pride
 until her brain stalled out.
“Wait, hormones?”
Lena slowly smiled, as widely as a wobbly chin would allow, and Alex immediately felt tears spring to her own eyes.
“Kara doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell you first since you’re the one who made it possi—”
“I call godmother!”
As Alex flung her arms around Lena, she was perfectly positioned to watch Esme accidentally, and quite forcefully, fling her phone against the car window.
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anonmousegosqueak · 16 days ago
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141 on a plane. I think they all act so different when it's commercial flight versus mission flights. On missions, they're calm and focused, getting into the zone. But commercial flights? Johnny fidgets, can't sit still for more than two hours. John is too paranoid to do anything except sit in the silence, no sleeping, no headphones, won't even get food or drinks. Simon is passed out sleeping, but he's so fucking uncomfortable, buys the either seat on each side of him so he can put the arm rests up. Kyle is blasting music in his headphones, sharing with Johnny (who forgot his) and making sure he bought water and snacks before take off for John.
-🩮 (from a plane)
:(
I used to fly a lot (too and from Texas twice a year to visit the grandparents) but then I didn't. And as y'all know I was on a plane just a few weeks ago. And y'know what? I'm done. I'm okay, thank you. No more flying for me!
Alright, yapping time!
Nikolai: I know you didn't have him in your original ask but... Bro is fidgety. He hates it. He's supposed to be the pilot, not the passenger! He's either silently cussing under his breath the entire time or he's flustering poor Price (it's a good form of distraction). Yeah he's making jokes like "hey, I'm not flying now so I guess my hands are free ;)" but internally he's screaming.
Price: as stated above, he's *not* having a good time. Yeah he knows how to control himself but he's absolutely freaking out under the surface. He's literally in a death tube being flown by someone he never met, and he's supposed to be calm?! No thanks, Nik is his only pilot.
Ghost: okay I think everyone is miserable? He gets really sleepy on plains (like my sibling) but he can never get comfortable (unlike my sibling- HOW DO YOU SLEEP SO GOOD??) Sometimes he just gives up and ends up disassociating while staring into the seatbelt sign for an hour. It always freaks everyone out and he's been told to stop many a time. Also if you think any of these men are going to fit into that tiny airplane seat?? Anyways, he lands with a crick in his neck and a taste for blood.
Soap: baby. Hunny. If you think this man is sitting still in a tiny seat for an hour+? It's TORTURE for him. He's got that ADHD that means if it's not a life or death situation, boy is fidgeting. He also always steals the safety manual they put in the seat pocket in front of you, don't ask how or why. BUT- if he has a big strong Lt. next to him...? He could find a way to pass the time~ (aka he passes out on his shoulder and snores in his ear)
Gaz: the only one having a decent time. It's not like he likes flying, I don't think anyone does, but he probably hates it the least. He'll absolutely flirt with the stewardess for an extra bag of pretzels, supply everyone with snacks and water, and even provide distraction for those who need it. 10/10, sitting next to this guy is great. His momma said he was a good flyer as a kid, he ain't gonna make her disappointed!
Roach: I think he's a 50/50. On the one hand, he likes airplanes. He thinks they are neat. He likes the cramped space, the cool view, heck he likes comparing things with what he learned from Nik! The one problem though? His ears pop BAD. I'm talking crying from pain, unable to hear and head feeling like it's gonna explode. It's the one thing he can't stand, and of course it's extra hard for him because life (me lmao) wants him to suffer apparently.
Red: Red is not allowed on plains. You cause *one* bathroom fire and all of a sudden your "banned from flying" and "a hazard". They say it's bullshit, everyone else says it's 100% fair and probably for the safety of anyone and everyone on board.
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adhdtsukasa · 10 months ago
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tsukasa tenma has ADHD!! except it's an actual analysis because 1. look at my url 2. i'm mentally unwell (and i started to love tsukasa mostly because i immediately recognized my ADHD traits in him). which is a thing i should probably leave for ADHD awareness month, HOWEVER!! it was my birthday yesterday and i wanted to spoil myself (i just kinda overlooked how much time writing it from scratch would take me, so i'm a bit late with it). and i reaaally don't wanna wait until november when i finally wrote it down because i'm so HYPED because i was preparing for it like what? two years? somewhere around it. and that's a LONG time.
please keep in mind that i'm no psychologist, psychiatrist nor a neurologist and while i do use some sources (cannot really confirm if they are true, though... because i forgot to write credits down... so i'm really sorry for that), most of this analysis was just based off on my personal experiences with the disorder (and i don't really have the full professional knowledge of what i struggle with i'm just a Boy). i mean, i am analyzing a character from a hatsune miku game. i think i'm already putting way too many effort than i should.
also the examples of tsukasa's behavior here are not all of the things, because i wrote down only the things i remember off from the top of my head. sorry, guys. my hyperactive ass is not sitting thru all the stories again just to get my crumbs, unfortunately.
anyways, with this a little bit unprofessional and messy introduction, let's get it started!
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1. THE MAIN PART OF THIS WHOLE THING, AKA HOW THE ADHD SYMPTOMS CORRESPOND TO TSUKASA'S BEHAVIOR
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i wanted to write it down in my own words, but i think the screen above has summed it up perfectly; there are some established symptoms of ADHD, but to be an ADHDer you don't have to experience them all. and this is going to explain why i'm gonna show a lot of these symptoms later, yet gonna connect only some of them with tsukasa. it's only these i have evidence for, and yet i think they're good enough to point at tsukasa and already say woah! an ADHDer!!
in short, there are three types of ADHD: hyperactive, inattentive (ADD) and combined. the combined one is the most common iirc, so that's also what i'm going to focus on today. especially since for a rep of the other types, i could say that shizuku's a rather great representation of ADD — but that's not the point of my ted talk today, so i'm not going to go into the detail about it. i'm sure some momojan or shizuku oshi would do better than me in this field, so i'm leaving it to the experts.
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these are the symptoms that i managed to gather — the first two screens being about the symptoms viewed in children, the last one being about the symptoms viewed in adults. "in which one of them tsukasa belongs to?" that's a good question, because i actually don't know. calling a high schooler a child doesn't sit quite right with me, yet a freshly turned 17/18-years-old is not exactly an adult, either (although most of the symptoms i'm analyzing come from these that are viewed in adults). and while i do think tsukasa has more of the symptoms viewed in adults, we're gonna analyse them all! because i'm putting my all into this.
FORGETFULNESS
i believe there's not much left to say, as this is the most obvious one and everyone already knows that. even though it's not touched that much anymore for some reason, tsukasa's forgetfulness is his very apparent trait. it varies in severity a lot of times: from him basically forgetting both his childhood and true feelings in the main story to him, for example, forgetting his own phone and lunch (in the same day!!) in hinamatsuri. even saki in the same event, while they were arguing, called him a "big, dumb forgetter" and assumed that he forgot what happened the day he brought her the hinamatsuri dolls to hospital. while forgetting basically half of your life is not exactly normal and can be a sign of something bigger, like dissociative amnesia, his forgetting of just the ordinary things and it happening a lot definitely still fits this trait.
EXCESSIVE TALKING/PHYSICAL MOVEMENT
while this is something that you'd rather connect to emu (and for a good reason), it's not like tsukasa is completely devoid of it either; he talks a lot. he moves a lot. it's not on emu's level of hyperactivity, but it's also not "a lot" that's taken as a social norm, based on how the people around him react. he's putting the 1 in oddball 1 2, after all.
in holy night or some side stories connected to it (it might be meiko's side story? but i'm not exactly sure) it was also said that tsukasa moves in his sleep a lot to this point that his parents have to leave his christmas presents under his door instead of next to his bed.
oh, and he also talks to himself a lot. even in class, which was confirmed in chapter 6 of dazzling (or maybe even earlier, it's just the one moment that i remember). (but i'll get to this moment later on)
he says his long monologues, he strikes his poses at every occasion — and while i don't think that's the first thing you think of when you have "excessive talking/movement" in mind, for me it sure does count as it.
LITTLE OR NO SENSE OF DANGER
this point can seem rather weird, because "isn't tsukasa always riddiculed at rui's weird inventions"? well, yeah, he is, that is not a thing to deny. but he also agrees to try out most of them, if not all, if it's for the sake of the show. he's aware of what can happen, but he also doesn't back away if it means that he'll be one step closer to achieving his dream of stardom.
does it count as "little sense of danger"? well, i'm actually not sure, for me it doesn't, but maybe for someone it does. i'd say that's a rather weak point, but i wanted to include the explanation for the counterpoint of it — that's why i even mentioned it in the first place. i don't have a lot to say about this tbh.
update: oh, actually no, wait, i just remembered. remember how tsukasa in phoenix decided to not eat anything for three days just to be able to resonate with rio, while also having to do straining exercise on top of that? you certainly cannot say that's a safe thing to do, but he still went along with that in order to get the role. it makes me come to a conclusion that tsukasa actually has a sense of danger, but sometimes chooses to willingly ignore it if only it makes him get closer to fulfilling his dream. i think it's coming close enough to the little/no sense of danger to be actually considered an ADHD trait.
DIFFICULTY KEEPING QUIET
while i'm not sure if what i'm going to talk about is a difficulty keeping quiet in a traditional sense of way, it definitely counts as it, somehow: tsukasa is loud. like, really loud. and that's another obvious fact both for us and for characters in-universe, especially when thinking of tsukasa shiho's first thought is that he's kinda noisy, which can be seen in the "a friend's brother" 1koma. (and probably a lot of other cases. free shiho.)
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tsukasa doesn't seem to realize that he's way louder than he should be and that him being loud is his first impression in most of the cases, though, or at least i don't remember any moment where it happens (and it's a possibility. then that's on me, i guess.). and yeah, i know what's the reason for it, obviously — he's supposed to be a comic relief character. because wansho's stories are mostly supposed to make you smile, as this is what wansho's aspiration is. however, as much as being intended to make the viewer laugh it wouldn't be, it still is a part of tsukasa's character, and a rather important one on top of that. his constant loudness is something that's definitely not considered normal by the society and could very well fit into this symptom.
and since i promised to elaborate on the mentioned before scene from dazzling chapter 6: when tsukasa talks to himself in class, it always ends up to be loud. and it already happened a few times.
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(tl by tsukasa's #3 fan on youtube because i don't have proseka on my phone wah)
if it's not a difficulty keeping quiet, then i don't know what is. bro can scream up to 120dB as measured by robonene for god's sake.
IRRITABILITY/QUICK TEMPER
again, this is something that was more apparent with early game tsukasa, maybe he just got medicated. idk man. but even if it happened three, almost four years ago, it still happened, i don't make the rules. back in the early game, tsukasa was really easily losing his temper and getting annoyed, mad even — i mean, that was the whole point of the main story argument: tsukasa's first response to nene accidentally messing up their show, which was not even her fault, was to shout at her. and while this was obviously very important thing to him and being upset at this is a rather understandable reaction, taking this as far as screaming at a poor girl for not being to face the audience because of her anxiety is not something a person who can control their anger would do.
it could be also easily seen by his reaction to emu and rui's antics back in the early game, which were often stained with irritation.
another example is his hinamatsuri argument with saki, where, despite loving her so much, he still got slightly mad at her for not liking the new dolls he bought her. he started to regret his harsh words and actions soon enough, obviously, but it doesn't change the fact that it was rather easy for him to get him across.
INABILITY TO DEAL WITH STRESS
if i'm not mistaken, tsukasa has once said something along the lines of "is it anxiety? there's no way a star like me would feel anxiety" — but i cannot recall for the love of my life in which story it appeared, so i don't want to take it as a face value when i don't have a solid proof for it.
other than this vague mention of "something that's in the story but i don't remember where", i'll admit, i don't really have anything backing me up for this tbf. i mean, i guess maybe tsukasa doing his best to appear strong as a child to not worry his parents could work? because the stress of saki being in the hospital definitely was also present here, although i just see this more as a coping mechanism for his situation than a reaction to stress, so that's not a solid evidence either.
so, yeah. take this one with a grain of salt, actually.
from the symptoms that weren't listed here, i remember reading something about people with ADHD enjoying to show off more, which is certainly what tsukasa does often — and while it actually applies to me too, it wasn't on an english site so i didn't screenshot it and i cannot really find it anywhere in english... so even though i treat it just like my whole argument for the inability to deal with stress, i thought it's just worth mentioning.
however, there is obviously one more thing...
HYPERFIXATION/SPECIAL INTEREST
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obviously, i'm talking about acting here: for tsukasa, acting aligns with all these criterias. it is his deep passion; it is something highly engaging for him; it is sometimes all-consuming for him; he tunes out the world around him when he thinks about how can he possibly improve his acting (see: the dazzling moment i showed earlier. yeah, i like to use it as a backing point a lot, as you can see.); and it is something that is his life-long interest.
is it his special interest or his hyperfixation, though? well, it's hard to tell...? because while according to screen two, spinterest revolves around a topic and hyperfixation revolves around an activity, so it would qualify what tsukasa feels towards acting as a hyperfixation, it's still kinda hard for me to call it so because of its length. yes, screen three clearly says that hyperfixation can last years, but they mostly revolve around shorter periods of time, after all (my longest hyperfixation was just a year long, for example). i think it's up to you to determine whether you'd call tsukasa's love for acting a hyperfixation or a special interest, but it's something from these two most certainly.
i'm also a big fan of the headcanon that tsukasa's other spinterest is kaito ww it's in no way a canon evidence (unfortunately!), but kaito's 1* side story, where tsukasa and emu are watching kaito's show and tsukasa is explaining to her why kaito's wearing a scarf somewhat implies that tsukasa knew a thing or two about kaito before the main story. and i'm all for it. colopale let tsukasa be a kaito fanboy pleaseee.
2. I REALLY LIKE ANALYZING SONGS, IF YOU CAN'T TELL
those who have already read a few of my things probably know what i love to do the most — analyzing songs!! so i wouldn't be myself if i just left tsukasa's commisions without analyzing them under the angle of neurodivergence, especially since the sole reason i became obsessed with the thought of ADHD tsukasa was that one sekahaji line (there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse you will always be famous).
of course, remember that only the world hasn't even started yet should be taken as a canon value! producers are often given space to do whatever they want in the lyrics of the songs they are commissioned for, so they're not canonical in any way. i think it's still fun to look at their lyrics and ramble about them for a bit, though. i've already got too carried away anyways.
won't be posting photos of the lyrics since i'd hit the images limit, but you can check them yourself — all the translations i'm taking, as always, from the vocaloid lyrics wiki. (since filament fever has two tls on there, i want to clarify that i've only looked at and considered in my analysis the official english one, because it's, well, official.)
THE WORLD HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET
besides the mentioned earlier there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse, which i think of as a representation of overstimulation (since i used to see people asking "oh but why tsukasa has something about there being too much noise in a song made out of his feelings when he's such a loud person himself". because he likes the noise he makes, not the overwhelming, overstimulating noise from the outside!!), sekahaji also has a rather good amount of quotes that could be read as something connected to neurodivergence (based on the fact that it's not supposed to be a song about this topic): the main theme of these are procrastination, which can be seen in let's cross the end of all of this, partying forever and the world hasn't even started yet line itself. the thought of the world not even starting implies that there's still a lot of time left to do something, while "partying forever" can refer to deciding to give up on doing the things you should do and going to drown in something that indulges only you and yourself for the rest of eternity. while procrastination is not counted as an official ADHD symptom, it's a trait that people with the disorder very often have (for reasons obvious).
other lines, which i couldn't entirely fit into a box of a certain symptom, are there's too much conflict, so much conflict and it keeps growing (a parallel line to the noise one, so it means something! right) and let's break the plans for a harmonious future. in my personal interpretation, they both can be viewed as your typical neurodivergent struggle in a neurotypical society — "too much conflict" refering to an internal struggle of not being completely normal, while the "harmonious future" that's going to get broken are just the social norms that are going to be broken because of an off-putting, neurodivergent behavior. something that some neurotypical people dooon't really like.
TONDEMO-WONDERZ
since i've just talked about breaking the social norms, "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you, huh? line from tondemo-wonderz is going to go first, because it revolves around the same topic. it's the same case: it's about (subconscious, not intentional) fighting what's accepted by the society by just being yourself — because you're neurodivergent, you're different.
from the other lines in tondemo-wonderz, i have only one and it's take an eraser to your memories?!, which is pretty much self explanatory. as always, a mention of forgetting something in tsukasa's commision. who would've thought.
88 SHOOTING STARS
another self explanatory line that i have written down as first: it's okay if you only remember a little part of it sometimes. another mention of tsukasa forgorℱ, and while it corresponds with what happened in dazzling, it's still a line mentioning forgetfulness — so it's worth mentioning.
aren't we just inevitably going around in circles? and it's okay if you take a rest for a little bit sometimes can be interpreted as another mention of procrastination and while it's not that apparent as it was with sekahaji, because going in circles can refer to something else and taking a rest sometimes is not a bad thing at all, i still wanted to mention them here. for the record.
you ought to slip and fall in panic in the final moment is connected to a symptom that i showed, yet didn't elaborate on it (because i didn't have anything to work with) — making careless mistakes. the same case, yet with another symptom goes with is this not enough yet again? is this not how it's supposed to be? couldn't we go even further than this?, which can be seen as a reflection of unability to listen to instructions. a bit of reaching with this one (like this whole part damn), but as i said earlier: for the record, i'm leaving it here. to show that i had some intense thoughts.
tbf, when i think about it now, maybe the mentioned earlier "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you [...] could very well fit this symptom too.
MR SHOWTIME
mr showtime you will always be famous, because this is a song that gave me a looot of things to work with. i was so flabbergasted when i read these lyrics for the first time. tsukasa tenma why are you like this. /aff
there are a lot of lines hinting being easily distracted, and these are basically the very first ones, too: you know what? i just can't make up my mind, it's so messed up that i can't put my thoughts together and a merry-go-round (my thought process) goes round and round are all about it. like you cannot deny it this time, if it's not about being unable to stay focused then i really don't know what is [insert the tsukasa don't look away stamp here because i love it and it's my biggest motivation to actually focus whenever i do something]. the more i mess around and waste time, the more i become hungry / and i can't handle it can be seen as about procrastination again, and even not "can be seen", it's literally being frustrated at yourself for wasting time, that's the sole outcome of a procrastination!! being bothered by feeling anxious, meanwhile, is resonating with the inability to deal with stress once again.
also jumping the gun. driving in a zigzag manner can actually connected with the little to no sense of danger. because, as far as i'm aware, driving in a zigzag manner is certainly not a safe activity. don't do it at home.
from the symptoms that i haven't yet mentioned to this point, am i taking a long way? am i making a fruitless effort? can be reflecting difficulty organizing tasks — since the poor planning of your activities can make you take a long way and can make you do a fruitless effort. then, where's the fun in taking shortcuts all the time? can be read along the lines of something coming close to extreme impatience and while a person that's extremely impatient would actually enjoy taking the shortcuts to get closer to their goal or destination, said impatience can be also connected with the desire for something interesting to happen. a task can make you impatient not because it's long, but because it's simply boring — avoiding shortcuts can make it less boring, even if it extends its duration. with this explanation, it makes the unexpectedness (unexpected program) is the best part of the show (my life) perfectly fit into this category, even though i wouldn't call this line a sign of impatience on its own.
i have some issues with i'm pathetic. i can't satisfy myself, because... at first i thought of connecting it with either mood swings or inability to deal with stress, however i'm not sure if that's really it. i'm pretty sure it connects to neurodivergence in some way, but i just can't put my finger on it, so... i'm just leaving it here for the record, once again.
oh, and there's also i got lost in the world (stage) and / the end credits rolled (the curtain fell), which also is pretty much summing up the experience of being neurodivergent in the neurotypical society. in the middle of trying to stay true to yourself and having to mask just to be accepted, it's easy to get lost — and once you do so, there's no going back. the curtain falls.
to end this part of the analysis, i'd show the lyrics from filament fever and sekai wo terasu tetrad here. i won't do this, however, and the reason for it is fairly simple — they don't give me much material to work with and i'm not really surprised, because mr showtime has succesfully sucked all of the neurodivergent coded lyrics into itself. there just won't be another song like mr showtime, i fear.
i can just say that in filament fever there is running away from the flow of time — which got me thinking of either procrastination and unability to stick to time-consuming tasks, with the former being more plausible as a potential interpretation... but that would be it.
3. NAKAYAMA IS A METAPHOR FOR NEURODIVERGENT MASKING AND IT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER SAID BUT YOU HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS
listen, i know how it sounds.
i'm not actually a fan of trying to fit every thing a character does into a box of a metaphor, symbol or allegory, i really am not. i think some things should just stay as simple as they are, but this thought has been bothering me ever since i've first seen spoilers of what's happening in a story where you're the star for the very first time. i'm in no way saying it has any canonical meaning, but i just thought it would be fun to include. because maaaybe someone sees my vision.
for those who haven't seen tsukasa4 yet or want to have a recap of what has happened in it: the whole event story revolves around tsukasa trying to grasp his role (as always). wxs got recommended to shunmei-za by shousuke and went there to practice their acting skills, immediately getting thrown onto the preparation for their next performance. tsukasa, however, is not a lead this time — he got the role of a supporting character and has got basically three lines to say on stage total. since tsukasa's used to playing lead roles, he obviously has issues with grasping the role — it's hard to use method acting in regards of a character that says three sentences total and nothing more. with help of bakuno reki, one of the actors in shunmei-za, and the rest of wxs, he manages to create a portrayal of nakayama that would make him "come to life" and "be a protagonist of his own story", something that would make it easier for him to get into role, however...
he gets a little bit too carried away with his acting during the actual performance.
and this is not something that would ruin the whole play, obviously, he's just a supporting character, the less invested audience would probably forgot about his impact on the story after five minutes of his last appearance — but he still made a slip-up. he still resonated with his role, but didn't achieve the utmost perfection. he still did well acting, after all, he managed to receive praise from the director in the end... but it's still a very apparent mistake that was made.
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(tl, once again, by the awesome tsukasa's #3 fan)
and that's where the nakayama masking metaphor theory (it's not even a theory but it sounds cooler this way) comes in.
nakayama is supposed to be just a man. from what we know about him, he's in his late twenties and works as an editor — and even though tsukasa makes up a whole backstory for him later on, he's still supposed to be ordinary. nothing special. he's coming nowhere near the other roles that tsukasa has played, he's not on the same level as miles, torpe and rio. and while you could possibly consider torpe and rio as rather ordinary, they still had something interesting to happen to them, the main reason why they were lead roles for their respective plays. in the tsukasa4 play, nakayama has nothing like that. he's literally just a guy, he's normal. and "normal" is a keyword here.
tsukasa did everything he could to fit into nakayama's role. he followed the script, he took the advice from a more talented and professional actor that is bakuno, he didn't do any mistakes during his preparations — and yet he still managed to mess up in the end. why?, besides of the fact that he just let himself become one with nakayama during the performance and it resulted in a supporting character outshining the lead?
if we take as a fact that tsukasa is, in fact, neurodivergent, it would make sense that he's having troubles with playing a normal person — because he's not exactly normal either. and this would very well work out as a metaphor of masking; even when you try your best, even when you mask yourself perfectly, you can still make slip-ups. you can still accidentally drop the act in middle of something that absolutely required it, or, similiar to what tsukasa did, can accidentally overdo it and end up perceived as even more weird than you'd be without masking. something something i got lost in the world and the end credits rolled. rings a bell?
and i'm not saying that tsukasa has a problem with masking, because he doesn't. he tries his best to pass as a normal member of society, but he also makes no effort in actively masking his weirdness (or else he wouldn't be a part of oddball one two). however, if you want to neurodivergent code your character, it would make sense to include a possibility of it in some way, right? especially since wxs stories' already had the theme of dealing with being perceived as weird (eg. rui's whole backstory, obviously). even if it's not affecting tsukasa directly, i think it would be cool to include something that indicates this issue's existence in his story and, in a way, his struggles.
however, as i said earlier, this is a very stupid thought and that's why i left it for the very end. i don't actually think that how tsukasa played nakayama was supposed to be a metaphor for masking, it's just a pure coincidence that it could be interpreted like that when you think about it too much.
aaand with this, we've finally come to an end!! (finally. i'm so exhausted.) i don't have anything more to say about this topic. maybe i'll retweet it with some more evidence in the future if we ever get more ADHDkasa content. for now, it would be all!
is tsukasa actually intentionally written as an ADHDer? Who Knows! there's a possibility that he is, but even if he's not, he's still one in my heart. regardless of the status of his possible neurodivergence, analyzing his behavior in this light was still very fun! and maybe i even converted someone into the ADHDkasa hell.
feel free to add something if you want to, and feel free to correct me if i got some things wrong! i still hope that even though of how messy this whole thing is written, i did tsukasa justice and didn't accidentally say too much nonsense lmao
...i hate ending analyses.
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reallyromealone · 4 days ago
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Title: Tokyo host club
Fandom: Tokyo revengers, ohshc
Chapter: 2
Characters: ohshc cast, Tokyo revengers cast
Fic type: omegaverse
Pairings: mitsukuni x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, heats mentioned, protective Shinichiro
Notes:
Summary: reader finds a notebook of a host club member though he gets more than he expected
🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾
It had been a few weeks, (name) managed to keep a low profile despite his rocky first day and even joined the auto club (much to his elder brothers pride), settling into the school pretty well-- well mostly.
Because for some reason, no one clocked into the fact he was an Omega. Everyone assumed he was a mild mannered beta and (name) was thankful for that honestly as the Omega could go about his life and do things without being second guessed, his intelligence wasn't met with skeptical looks and the only thing he had to deal with was vague classism.
Apparently the other exchange student was doing something similar though with gender, (name) opting to not say anything and keep to himself as he didn't want to do anything that could hurt her feelings or his? He wasn't sure about the optics of the situation and frankly he didn't care to.
(Name) Had stepped away from the table he was studying at, other students studying beside him and the student to his right stepping away momentarily, everyone keeping to themselves thankfully.
Though when he returned, he found the person beside Him had left, a notebook sitting on the table "kyoya Ootori..." He mumbled and collected his own belongings, asking a few students about the mystery person and deciding to set off to return the notebook.
The halls were winding, identical to one another and be almost missed the unused third music room if it wasn't for the laughter inside. Gently knocking, he recieved no answer and decided to just peak in as to not be too rude.
"Welcome~!" Multiple voices spoke and (name)s guard went up immediately, looking cautious at the multiple alphas before him and a sense of regret washing over the middle Sano when he realized where he was. He was in the host club.
Shit.
"Do we just attract commoners now?" One of the twins piped up, they were in his class though they didn't make a point to talk to him, usually chatting up Mrs Fujioka "a Mr. Ootori forgot his notebook in the library... I'm just here to return it" (name) looked at the students around him, locking eyes with a short blond who he would have easily mistaken for another Omega if he hadn't known better, there were no omegas in the host club, just alphas and a beta.
The honey blond alphas eyes were unreadable, the Omega feeling a spark in his stomach and chest that made him uncomfortable, a need to be closer to the alpha and that alone freaked (name) out internally.
"Ah, I was wondering where I put that" kyoya said calmly and walked up to the Omega "(name), I presume?"
"That would be correct"
"You scored the highest on the exchange exams, you have an IQ of 208 but you haven't done anything with such intelligence till now" kyoya rattled off facts about the Omega and (name) decided in true Sano fashion to do what the family loved to do when someone was being annoying or rude.
Lose interest.
"Yup, goodbye" he said simply "you joined the mechanics club but you are a trained martial artist, why didn't you join that instead?"
"It didn't align with my goals" and with that (name) was gone, he dealt with weird people at home, his brothers friends being a prime example.
(Name) Was walking into the mechanics club when it started, dizziness and his body feeling hot.
He felt like he ran for days straight, his skin burning and his clubs president and the on watch teacher immediately jumping to action when they saw the signs.
Shinichiro had never moved so fast in his life, the elder sibling still in his mechanics gear when he was led to the medical wing, looking frantic "what happenes?!" His protective big brother instincts and alpha instincts blending together and the head teacher, class president along with the medical staff and chairman brought him to a room "young (name)s heat triggered, he's in pain as we assume this is his first heat?" The black haired alpha nodded "how did it trigger?" Shinichiro asked seriously, looking at the people in the room and the mechanic club president raised his hands awkwardly "he said something about the host club, maybe that bad something to do with it?"
"The fucks a host club?"
The president was in awe at the older alpha after he got to know him post meeting, introducing himself to the omegas brother "we see your brother as our own brother! We didn't even know he was an Omega till now"
"Got a problem with that?" The former black dragons leader asked with a glare and the young mechanic shook his head "no sir, my mom's an Omega and frankly (name) knows more about cars and stuff then most of the club--- he's the hardest working member"
"Pardon us!" A voice broke through and a growl could be heard and everyone turned to see a tall blond walk in "one of our members hit a rut, we locked him in the host club closet for safety concerns but we need medical assistance!"
"That's the host club president " the young mechanic whispered to the eldest Sano sibling who had an unreadable expression "I'm gonna take (name) home now" he told the nurse who took out the discharge papers so (name) could leave school grounds and the Alpha quickly signed them and pulled out his phone and dialed a number "Waka get the car ready" his voice serious and the rest of the host club trickled in and two doctors and a nurse quickly went to the club room to tranquize Honey-senpai.
Tamaki looked curious at the black haired alpha, the man sharing a striking resemblance to the commoner who triggered honeys rut, he couldn't be the omegas father though...
Could he?
(Name) Was bundled by the dark haired alpha, in a blanket and the man's jacket before being carried out by the man, not a word shared or even uttered.
Both (name) and Honey were gone for a week and a half, (name) going through agony during his first heat. He didn't know what those books were talking about, there was no pleasure just crippling pain.
(Name) Was in his recovery period, laying in his nest while surrounded by his family's scent, anxious about returning to school.
He was gonna be a talking point he could feel it.
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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago
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The Over/Under
Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 6.2K
Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce
Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?
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“What about him?” 
“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.” 
“Him?” 
“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.” 
“Okay, what about him?” 
“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!” 
The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.  
Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?” 
“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?” 
You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally. 
“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?” 
Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense. 
Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left. 
You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he
oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.  
You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married. 
Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly. 
You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.” 
Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot." 
You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.
He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it.  It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how
A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too. 
You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back. 
She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity. 
“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.
“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact. 
He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.” 
You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours. 
“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight. 
“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking. 
“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne. 
He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?” 
“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just
celebrating,” you settled on. 
“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?” 
“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded. 
“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.” 
You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny. 
“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?” 
You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return. 
But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all. 
“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.” 
“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy. 
“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.” 
The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.” 
Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more. 
The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs. 
You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.
It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him. 
You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them. 
“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence. 
You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.  
Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.” 
He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.” 
The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.” 
His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” 
“Try me.” 
He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you. 
“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!” 
“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy. 
“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.” 
“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.” 
It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it. 
“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.” 
“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.” 
It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more. 
“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so. 
“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed. 
“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered. 
“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease. 
“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.” 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.” 
If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder. 
“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”
“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.” 
“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.
“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.” 
He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world. 
“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud. 
Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. 
The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.
You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise. 
He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly. 
You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him. 
You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. 
“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded. 
“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.  
“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”  
“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching. 
Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air. 
He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.
He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 
“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent. 
“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.” 
It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later. 
You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval. 
You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry. 
Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat. 
“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow. 
He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him. 
You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you. 
“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you. 
He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly. 
You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply. 
His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal. 
“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want
” 
He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?”  You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance. 
“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full. 
“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.  
“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again. 
His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close. 
“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.” 
You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you. 
He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow. 
It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words. 
“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”
Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”
“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”
Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that. 
This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going. 
“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask. 
He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”
--------------
Main Masterlist
Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚
Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!
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scary-grace · 1 month ago
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Enough to Go By (Chapter 25) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
Chapter 25
Your phone is ringing from a number you don’t recognize, and you wouldn’t pick it up at all if it hadn’t already rung four times. Either this is one persistent telemarketer, or your mom’s changed her phone number again and you just haven’t noticed. You step out of the high command meeting with an apology and raise it to your ear. “Hello?”
“This number is listed as the emergency contact for a patient who was just admitted to Yokohama General,” the person on the other end of the line says, and your blood turns to ice. “Am I speaking with —“
She says your name, and you nod, your mind spinning. Yoshimi? Why would Yoshimi list you as her contact? She was in remission. What happened? Why — “Miss,” the nurse on the other end of the line says, “I need you to confirm your name.”
You confirm it. “Thank you,” the nurse says. “The patient’s name is Kiyohara Kazuo. His advance directive —“
“His what?”
“His advance directive requires that I share a message with you,” the nurse continues. “The message is this: SAVE YOURSELF, all caps.”
Save yourself? “That doesn’t make any sense,” you say. “What happened? How is he?”
“That’s protected health information. I — ah, it appears he’s signed a consent to release information,” the nurse says. You need to sit down. Your head is spinning worse than before. “Kazuo collapsed at his workplace with a grand mal seizure, believed to have been brought on by overuse of his quirk. Stress may have also been a factor — eyewitnesses state that he was in a contentious discussion with his supervisor at the time.”
Kazuo wouldn’t have used his quirk by accident. He knows where his limit is. Did he push himself past it on purpose? Why? Your eyes are burning beneath your veil. “Do you know what they were fighting about?”
“I wasn’t there,” the nurse says, like you’re stupid. You swallow hard around the lump in your throat. “If my boss could read my mind like his apparently can, I might have a breakdown, too.”
Kazuo’s boss can read minds. Kazuo overloaded his quirk on purpose. Kazuo set you up as his emergency contact and set an advance directive ordering that a specific message be given to you. You ask the nurse for his room number, ask about visiting hours, and all the while you try to figure out what he was thinking. There was something in Kazuo’s mind he didn’t want his boss to see. Flooding his mind with information would have obscured it. And then there’s the message to you, which he prepared ahead of time. Which he must have planned for. Kazuo’s always told you that you can’t save he and Tenko both, or you and he both, or something. But this time he was brutally direct. Save yourself. From what?
Foreboding crashes down on you. You launch to your feet, lose your balance, knock against the wall, and stumble back into the meeting in the middle of some soliloquy from Geten about convincing the average citizen to rise up and join the cause. Re-Destro spots you first. “Saintess?”
“Something’s going to happen,” you say. “My contact at the HPSC — he just —“
“False alarm,” Hawks says at once. Spinner and Skeptic sit bolt upright in their chairs. “I’ve got contacts there, too. None of them have said anything. If your guy’s some mid-level guy —“
“He’s not mid-level!”
“Sure, sure. I’m just saying, I talk to the top brass,” Hawks says. “They’re building up to something, yeah, but they aren’t anywhere close to being ready to move. And when they are, we’ll have plenty of warning.”
“This is the warning,” you say. You see Dabi ignoring you, Re-Destro dismissing you, Geten and Twice and even Compress leaning to Hawks’s side of the story. But that doesn’t matter. There’s only one person you need to convince. “Tomura —“
He never met Kazuo. You know that even the idea of Kazuo bugs him a little bit — it’s a reminder that there was someone before him, someone you loved, even if you never loved them like this. But he trusts you, and when he meets your eyes, you know you’ve won. “Your contacts could have found you out,” he says to Hawks, whose jaw drops. “Better safe than sorry. Activate everybody. We’re starting now.”
You still dislike Re-Destro on principle, but you’ll say this for him — when Tomura gives the order, he snaps to it, and Geten follows suit. Skeptic was already in motion before Tomura spoke, and Spinner catches you by the arm and pulls you out of the room, dragging you down the hall. You’ve gone over plans for the start of the war multiple times, and at no point do they involve Spinner kidnapping you. You speak up as soon as you’ve got your feet under you. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here.”
“Why?” If there’s going to be a fight, you have to stay close to Tomura. You try to wrench your arm out of Spinner’s grip, but he’s holding on too tightly. “Let go. I have to —“
“Hawks just got made. He knows you’re important. Shigaraki’s not leaving you anywhere Hawks can reach.” Spinner’s expression is grim. “Twice is going to make a clone of you. It’ll do the same thing as you, but nothing bad will happen if he kills it.”
Except that Tomura will have to watch you die. “And what am I supposed to do while this is going on? Watch helplessly from the sidelines?”
“No,” Spinner says. “Do what you did during the Deika thing. It’ll work better if no one knows you’re doing it.”
He’s right. You’ve kept the existence of the deleter rounds fairly quiet — after you and Spinner agreed that Hawks was the spy, you started dropping hints about how the production was harder than expected, and the compound didn’t work as well as Overhaul’s. In actuality, you’ve got dozens of bullets, a specially modified gun to fire them from, and a lot of practice while Tomura was in stasis. Next to Tomura, you’re a target, and your ability to do anything other than reinforce Super-Regeneration is limited. At a small distance from him, hidden, you can do a lot.
You stop fighting Spinner, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Go get your gear. Stay out of sight. And don’t worry about him. We’ve got his back.”
You believe that, now. You didn’t before, but now you see it — the League wants Tomura to survive, too. No matter how else they feel about the new world, they want him in it. You nod, and Spinner lets go of your arm, leaving you to run back to the room you and Tomura share. Everything you need is hidden under the bed, and as you put it on, it occurs to you suddenly that Hawks doesn’t know what you look like. How likely is it that any of the heroes know? Right now, the biggest identifying feature you have is your costume. If you take it off —
When you step back out of the room, joining the flood of PLF members headed to their battle stations, you’re dressed in civilian clothes, and no one pays any attention to you. Word is spreading that Hawks is a traitor, that heroes are headed here right now, and while you’d expect the members of the PLF to be frightened, they aren’t. Some of them are angry with Hawks, angry with themselves for being taken in. But even the ones who are angry seem excited, too. They believe they can win. And with the advance warning Kazuo’s given you, combined with Tomura’s near-omnipotence, you think they might be right.
You don’t have an assigned battle station — everyone assumed you’d be with Tomura — so you go looking for the intelligence center instead. Skeptic has cameras everywhere. He’ll be able to see exactly who’s come to fight, and you’ll be able to see exactly who you need to hit in order to turn the tide of the battle in the League’s favor. When you get there, Skeptic’s not alone — Dabi’s there, too, in the worst mood you’ve ever seen him in. They’re arguing about something you couldn’t care less about. You wedge yourself past them to look at the screens, and your stomach drops.
There are so many heroes. You’ve never seen that many in your life, all at once, all converging on the PLF headquarters. You know Kazuo gave you all the warning he could, but you’re suddenly convinced that it wasn’t enough. This looks like every hero in Japan, from the top ten to people you’ve never seen, from heroes who have been around forever to students. A slow twist of anger works its way through you as you notice kid after kid from Toga’s YouTube playlist running across the screens. What the hell are the heroes doing bringing kids to fight a war?
Ultimately you know who you want to hit, but you don’t have nearly enough bullets for every hero. And you’re not exactly a hero expert. You turn away from the screens and step right into the middle of Dabi’s argument with Skeptic. “I have quirk-canceling bullets that actually work. Who should I hit?”
“Endeavor,” Skeptic says at once.
“No,” Dabi snarls, and you flinch. “Not him, and not the little brat he bred to replace him. They’re mine.”
Skeptic argues, but you talk over him. “I don’t care who deals with them as long as someone takes them out,” you say. “Who else?”
“The only way Shigaraki loses this is if his quirks stop working,” Dabi says. “That fucking traitor will have told them what he has, so they’ll have brought Eraserhead. Get him and the heroes are screwed.”
“And how did the traitor know what the Grand Commander has?” Skeptic hisses. Dabi snarls. “You told him. This is your fault.”
“Twice was friendly with him!”
“Not half as friendly as you!”
Maybe this is what they were fighting about when you came in. It doesn’t matter. You need to find Eraserhead and take him out of the fight, and you won’t need to kill him to do it. All it will take is one shot. The building rumbles around you, but you don’t flinch — it’s just Gigantomachia, waking up, just like Tomura’s plan calls for him to do. You keep watching the screens, looking for Eraserhead, and you find him fast. He’s not hard to miss, not when he’s running alongside the numbers one, five, six, and ten heroes, plus three or four others.
That concentration of firepower can only be aimed at one person. They’re headed for Tomura, and with Eraserhead there to cancel Tomura’s quirks, his ability to fight back will be limited. The only way to stop it is to make sure to cancel his first. You slip out of the room while Dabi and Skeptic are still fighting and head for the front lines.
Most of the fighting is happening outside the building. Tomura’s game plan called for keeping the enemy forces from breaching the building, although you’re not sure why, given that Gigantomachia destroyed part of it already with his emergence. The ground is shaking with his steps, and there’s already one hero struggling to hold him back. As you watch through a shattered window, you see a shadow lift from the ground, wings extended. You’re not a hero expert, but you’re pretty sure that’s the number ten hero, Ryukyu. That’s one less person against Tomura. One less person shielding Eraserhead.
You can’t see Toga or Twice — or Compress, now that you think about it. If you had to put a bet on where Spinner is, you’d say he’s by Tomura. Which is where you should be. You can’t see the clone Twice supposedly made of you, but you’re sure it’s around somewhere. Not dead yet. If it were dead, you’d know. Not because you’d feel it, but because you know what Tomura would do.
You’re not on anybody’s list of important targets, which means you go largely unnoticed as you duck and weave through the fight. Without your veil, not even the members of the PLF can recognize you, and you keep your gun close to your side, out of sight. At one point, though, you make eye contact with a familiar face — bright-eyed, dressed in pink, a pink-shaded visor down over her face. Uraraka Ochako, hero name: Uravity. You duck out of her eyeline, your heart hammering. She won’t remember you. Even if she does recognize your face, she won’t know where she remembers you from, and she definitely won’t link you to the League of Villains. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Except it’s not her you should have been worrying about. There’s somebody else staring down at you — a kid, too young to be a pro hero, must be a student. “Hey,” he says, frowning. His voice sounds strangely familiar. “Are you okay? You look —“
He doesn’t see you as a combatant, or any kind of threat. You can’t count on that to last. You bring the gun up from your side, flip the safety off, and drill a quirk-canceling bullet into his shoulder.
The student staggers, frowning — but he’s clearly confused, particularly when the bullet falls away, spent, the needle exposed. “What was that?” he asks, as you get back to your feet – and finally, you realize who you’re looking at.
It’s your brother. One of the twins. Shinji, you think. A student at Ketsubutsu Academy, called up to fight a war. And now he’s quirkless. You should feel something. He’s your brother. But all you can think of is the number of times he practiced using his quirk on you. Shinji’s frown deepens. “What did you do to me?”
You need to get away from him before he figures it out — and before he can let anyone else know. He’s got an earpiece in one ear. You snatch it out of his ear and run, jamming it into yours instead. He’s pretty obviously dressed as a hero. If he runs into anyone from the PLF, they’ll fight him, and he’ll have to fight them without his quirk. Shinji’s not going to be able to follow you. And without his earpiece, he can’t call for help, either.
The channel the earpiece is tuned to is a mess. There are directives coming in from somewhere, but they’re drowned out almost entirely by the heroes trying to coordinate, trying to counterattack, trying to adjust to the fact that the PLF, who was supposed to be caught unawares, seems to have been ready for them. You recognize Endeavor’s voice from TV broadcasts, and you know he’s pursuing Tomura, so you try to listen for him specifically as you pick your way around the edges of the fight. You promised Dabi you wouldn’t go after him, but if it comes down to destroying his quirk or letting him hurt Tomura, you know what you’ll choose.
You’re not a strategist, but as you draw closer to the battle, you try to think like one. Eraserhead’s quirk is like yours — it affects somebody else rather than doing anything for him. It would make the most sense for him to stay out of sight, like you’re doing, in a hiding spot where he can see Tomura but Tomura can’t see him. It occurs to you how likely it is that Eraserhead is doing the exact same thing you’re doing, a split second before you make your way around a piece of rubble and find Eraserhead crouched behind it, peering up and over at the fight between Tomura and the heroes.
For a moment you’re frozen, but you shake it off fast. The range here isn’t as close as it was with the student you shot, but it’s still well within your abilities, and all you need to do is tag him. You feel an odd squeamishness about shooting someone who isn’t hurting you, who doesn’t even know you’re there. Then you think about it. Eraserhead wants to hurt Tomura. Eraserhead’s also a hypocrite — calling himself a hero, defending his psychopathic student while disallowing any possibility that villains could be anything but irredeemably evil. He deserves what you’re about to do, as much as anyone can be said to deserve it. You raise your gun and aim for his torso.
“Hey!” Something skids into your field of vision, blocking Eraserhead completely. It’s the student the League abducted, the one who acts like a villain, as if you’ve summoned him just by thinking about him. He has his arm pulled back, sparks flying around his hand. If you don’t do something soon, you’re going to take an explosion to the face. “I don’t know who the hell you are, extra, but if you think —“
You don’t need to think. You pull the trigger, and the bullet you’d marked out for Eraserhead hits the hero student instead.
His hand drops, like you’ve cut the muscles in his arm instead of canceled his quirk, and you see confusion on his face, just like you saw on the other student you hit. Unlike that student, he reacts fast, raising his other hand, his face screwing up in concentration as he tries to call up a quirk that’s long-gone. With no quirk, he’s not your problem — or so you think. “Sensei, cut it out! I wasn’t going to hurt her —“
That’s an enormous lie, and it’s cute that he thinks Eraserhead is the one doing this. You cycle another round into the chamber and lean out around him, just in time for Eraserhead to look towards his student. The two of you make eye contact. You see his face shift, see that he’s registered something’s off. He’s not watching Tomura any longer. His attention is on you, and his hair falls around his face, and you’re in the act of pulling the trigger when the student tackles you from one side.
Your shot goes wide, and you put an elbow into the student’s face as you fire another. You get lucky with this one. Eraserhead’s coming towards you, hand held out, and the bullet sinks into the palm of his hand.
He must know what it is. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why he reacts the way he does, and how fast he does it. Eraserhead draws a knife from his utility belt, raises it, and amputates his left hand with a single stroke.
Was he fast enough to keep his quirk? You’re not sure. Whether he was or not, he’s toppling sideways, blood pouring from the stump of his hand, and the student lets go of you, racing forward to catch him. “Sensei —“
Nobody’s holding onto you, so you run. As you vanish around a corner, you hear Eraserhead’s voice, tight with pain and anger. “Leave it, Bakugou. Stop her!”
The student’s going to be after you. That’s fine. Unlike him, you know how to fight without a quirk. Your clip is almost empty. You fire the last bullet into the crowd, hitting a hero at random, then load the next one. The thought of circling back around to try to put Eraserhead down for good crosses your mind. Even if you canceled his quirk on the first try, you can’t be too careful. At least, you don’t think you can. You hear the distinctive sound of warp sludge spewing and look to your right, just in time to spot one of the high-end Nomus unfurling its limbs and rising to its feet. It reaches for you, hand closing around your waist, and pulls you in close. “Master’s orders,” it rumble as you fight. “Keep her safe.”
“Let me go,” you order, and it loosens its grip on you — but it doesn’t let you go entirely. Your authority must be subordinate to Tomura’s, somehow. The Nomus will follow your orders only if they don’t contradict Tomura’s. You try desperately to think of a workaround. “He said to keep her safe? He meant Toga. Go get Toga.”
“No,” the Nomu says. “Her.”
It says your name, and you curse yourself. Of course Tomura would have gotten specific. Of course he would had made sure. After what happened in Deika city, you should have guessed that he’d have set up multiple backup plans to keep you away. The Nomu repeats the order again, like you didn’t hear it the first time, this time with your name firmly embedded in it. “Master’s orders.”
“Then come with me,” you say. “I have to go fight. Come with me and keep me safe.”
This time, the workaround has at least some effect. The Nomu loosens its grip completely, but draws close to you, shadowing you completely. It says your name a third time. “Keep safe. Master said —“
“So that’s your real name,” a voice says in your ear, and terror rips down your spine. “I liked Saintess better.”
The Nomu lashes out, but Hawks is too fast. He yanks you away, splitting the Nomu’s head open with a massive, razor-sharp feather. You try to get the gun around to the right angle to shoot him, only for him to grab your wrist and twist it hard enough to shatter it. You yelp in pain, and worse, you drop the gun. Hawks lets your wrist fall, twists the other behind your back, and clamps his free hand over your mouth. “I have to hand it to you and your friend at the HPSC. You two really screwed things up,” he says. You try to bite his fingers, and he curses. A moment later you feel the sharp press of a feather against your throat. “Skeptic got a message out before we jammed communications. PLF cells are activating across the country. How does it feel to be the cause of a civil war?”
“I didn’t cause it.” Your voice is muffled, but you get the words out. “You’re the ones who made it possible.”
“And here I was thinking you could be reasoned with.” Hawks laughs, low and dark. “Tell me something. Did you ever buy it? Me as a member of the PLF?”
You throw an elbow backwards and try to bite him again, and this time, the feather that bites into your throat bites deep enough to draw blood. “Never.”
“Then you should have said something about it yesterday,” Hawks says. “Now it’s too late.”
He lets go of the hand behind your back and wraps it around your waist instead, and suddenly your feet leave the ground. His wings buffet the air, hauling you both upwards. Your backpack falls from your shoulders, and you grab for it desperately, trying to salvage something, anything. Your hand closes around a single clip. Six bullets, no gun, and the Number Two hero holding what amounts to a sword to your throat. This is worse than Overhaul’s attempt to capture you, worse than facing down Re-Destro. Hawks has you, and you can’t get out. What is he going to do with you? Take you up to a height and drop you? Drag you back to the heroes and throw you into Tartarus? Make you disappear entirely, so that no one ever finds you?
No, you realize. Hawks is carrying you towards the battle, not away from it. He wants everyone to find you. Or maybe not everyone. Just one person.
He raises his voice, shouting into the wind. “Hey, Grand Commander! I’ve got something of yours!”
From above, the battlefield is a wasteland. The PLF’s headquarters are mostly in ruins, and the woods and gardens surrounding the compound are scorched black or still in flames. There are bodies on the ground, but from this height, you can’t tell who’s dead or just wounded, who’s a hero or a member of the PLF or a student who should never have been here to begin with. You know where Tomura is, though. You can see Re-Destro in his giant form, the light glinting off of Spinner’s blades, shreds of Dabi’s blue fire clashing with Endeavor’s red flames. You can see that the heroes are in trouble, that Tomura’s quirks are enough to hold them back almost single-handedly. And you can see that Tomura comes to a stop at the sound for Hawks’s voice. Everyone else keeps fighting, but Tomura freezes, and Hawks drops a few feet in altitude. “That’s right. Take a good look. I’ve got her.”
You hear Tomura’s response loud and clear. “You’ve got a clone.”
“I dealt with the clone already,” Hawks calls back. You see someone strike towards Tomura, only to be deflected by Re-Destro. Tomura doesn’t even look. “Twice’s copies are pretty good, but he always leaves one thing out.”
A smaller feather slices through the chain of your necklace, and it drops into Hawks’s hand. He tosses it down towards Tomura, and you see Tomura’s hand flash out to catch it. You can’t see his expression from here. “All right then,” Hawks says. “Now that we’ve established that I’ve got your girlfriend, here’s what’s going to happen.”
“No, this is what will happen.” Tomura kicks off from the ground and launches into the air — Air Walk, one of the quirks you and the doctor transplanted into him. Now he and Hawks are facing each other. “You’re going to give her back, and maybe if you do I’ll kill you myself instead of letting Dabi do it!”
“Come near me and I’ll cut her throat,” Hawks says, and Tomura stops. You see his expression contort in a way that’s unfamiliar, but it smooths out a split second later. “See, we could just beat you into submission — we’ve got numbers — but the problem is the big guy, and that army of yours that’s just started acting up. Not to mention all those Nomus. Killing you isn’t going to put them back in the bottle, so I’m going to need you to tell them to stand down.”
Hawks is smart. Too smart. The part of you that’s not writhing in terror realizes that Hawks has solved a problem that the rest of the heroes haven’t even thought of. If Tomura dies, there’s no one to give Gigantomachia the order to stand down. There’s no one to put the brakes on the PLF, a PLF that will be enraged by the heroes’ attack. If the heroes want this to stop, they need Tomura to stop it himself, and Hawks has pinpointed the one thing that’s always swayed Tomura, ever since this started — threats to people he cares about. He got into it with Overhaul because Magne was killed and brought back, sought out the fight with the Meta Liberation Army to rescue Giran. All that is true. You still don’t think there’s anything that will make Shigaraki Tomura stand down when the stakes are this high.
But he’s never been just Shigaraki Tomura. And ever since you both were children, you’ve never seen Tenko accept losing you even once.
You have to get out of here. You have to get free of Hawks before Tenko’s love for you ruins everything. You thrash, and both Hawks and Tenko snap at you to hold still. Your mind spins uselessly. Hitting Hawks hasn’t worked. You can’t bite him without moving your head, without pressing the feather against your throat. You don’t have a weapon on you. The only thing you have is the clip of quirk-canceling bullets in your hand.
Your right wrist is broken, but your fingers are okay. You switch the clip from your left hand to your right, trying to lock your fingers in place around it, and begin prying it open with your left hand. Hawks is still talking. “If you don’t order them to stand down, then I’ll kill her. It’s pretty straightforward. Do as I say or your girlfriend dies.”
“You’re going to kill an innocent person so you can get an easy win?” Tenko’s voice sounds as strange as the expression that contorts his features a second time. “What kind of hero are you?”
“One life for the whole country? I’m the kind of hero who makes hard choices,” Hawks retorts. “Your girlfriend might be innocent by your standards, but she’s a criminal just like you. I don’t want to do it, but I’d be doing everyone a favor.”
Tenko’s expression contorts again, but you recognize part of it this time — horror. You haven’t seen him look that way since you were children. His hands come up, clamping down on either side of his face, fingernails biting deep. “No —“
“Then this will be a really easy choice. Order them to stand down,” Hawks says. You pry open the clip and the bullets fall into your hand — and then out of it. Out of six in the clip, you’re only able to save one. “I’m going to give you fifteen seconds to comply. Fifteen — fourteen —“
He keeps counting down, and below you, you see a flaming figure break away from the fight. Endeavor. He’ll be here sooner than Hawks’s countdown will end, and Tenko will be trapped. You can’t let that happen to him. You can’t let his dream fall apart because of you. You flick the protective cap on the bullet hard, trying to shatter it and expose the needle, and feel it break away beneath your nail. You break the action down into the simplest possible steps, the same as you did when you were learning stitches or shooting a gun.
Shift your grip. Lean back, away from the feather. Keep looking at Tenko. Don’t look away. Bring your hand to your side. Think about where you’ll hit. Take a deep breath — your last one ever, if this goes wrong — and shout to Tenko, playing the role of his sidekick one more time. “Behind you! Look out!”
Tenko looks. Hawks curses at you, shakes you, and you bring your left hand up, stabbing the bullet into the back of his hand.
Hawks jerks back, but it’s too late. The feather at your throat goes limp and falls away, and a moment later, Hawks’s wings cease to beat. The two of you remain aloft for another second before gravity catches up to you, and then you fall. You’re falling together at first. Then Hawks shoves you away from him, hard. He wants to save himself. Fine. You know it’s too late for both of you already.
Hawk’s shove flipped you from falling facedown to looking up. You have a decent view of Tenko up above you, locked in combat with Endeavor and whichever other heroes can fight in the air. He must be taking damage — you can feel your vision blurring, your heart racing, as your quirk siphons your strength and sends it to him. Maybe that will be what kills you. Maybe you’ll die before you hit the ground.
That’s okay with you. You decided it could end like this, a few months back or forever ago. The thought settles over you as your vision goes black for the last time. You’re a sidekick. No good sidekick would let her hero lose.
<- Chapter 24 Chapter 26 ->
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dunmeshistash · 10 months ago
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Hi, so recently there was a dunmeshi signing (?) event with Ryoko Kui in Korea. And I have found some posts from korean fans about their experience and a bunch of illustrations. @Dgae_715 is the acc on twitter i have found most of information from reposts. But basically here are the most relevant facts that I have found (Please note that they may be inaccurate due to me relying on online translator):
A fan asked if post canon Falin will live longer, Ryoko Kui basically answered “maybe so, right?”
The same fan asked if Thistle without desire will able to live happily with the care of others, and as far as I got she said “I hope so”.(Note: I am really not sure if I got this one right at all) The fan themselves said the way Ryoko Kui answered was rather unprepared, so she may not have an answer in mind really on such specific questions.
Another fan asked how Mithrun is in post canon, Ryoko Kui said that he is doing well, working and pursuing hobbies.
Somebody asked Mithruns about strength, he is weaker than a soldier, even though he is got the fighting skills, but he developed them mostly because of his sense of professionalism (?), rather than for fighting.
Past Mithrun didn’t really fight that much, he was mostly an investigator(?), he rarely had to fight in the rear(?) units.
Apparently Falin’s chimera form can get oily, so she repells water a bit
In real life, Marcille would be a med school research student, while Laios would be a “furita” (basically a freelancer with no stable income)
Someone said if Ryoko Kui considered a bad ending for Falin, and Ryoko Kui said she, as an author wanted a happy ending, but in case of Falin, she was worried after the ending (14 volume or later?), but overall she thinks it turned out well. (I think the after the ending refers to her post canon fate, and maybe thats why Ryoko kui did an extra on that specifically later on) 8. Also someone asked if Ryoko Kui would eat the dishes from dunmeshi, and she replied she is a picky eater, and she also said to someone that she drew dishes that she liked and disliked in dunmeshi (I bet she doesnt like fruitcakes).
(Note: There is a 90% chance I got this completely wrong, translator was struggling a LOT here) Someone asked about what Laios is good at, she replied “when he is a party member”. 9. She also likes Lord of the Rings and Wizardly 6(?), and she likes Skip and Loather
When asked about what word definies Laios, she said he is actually a normal/usual person(?). I have lost the post with this specific answer, so I am going by my memory;-;
Some fan showed her that picture with Tennant Chilchuck, she didnt recognise the actor unfortunately. Also apparently this meme originated from Korean dunmeshi fandom???
There were other questions and answers too, but they mostly about Ryoko Kui. And I also may have forgotten to add some;-; Also some fan suggested to Ryoko Kui that Falin in the real life should be a dentist by the way she makes them drool(????I think they meant it in non-sexual manner, like an excited dog), they kind of laughed about it. Also Ryoko Kui drew Falin the most(?) for signing postcards, other characters, and only 5-6 Senshis, 2 Winged Lions
Anonymous asked: The same anon with Korean sign event ask. I knew I forgot something, but basicaly some fan showed Ryoko Kui the day dream picture that most of fandom presumes to be a Chilchuck’s wife and asked if its true, she answered “Its up to your imagination”. So basically neither no or yes
Thank you! I LOVE SKIP AND LOAFER WEEEE
Hopefully we get some more corroborating translations for the bits you're not sure!
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