#hamilton keeps getting his ass handed to him by the judge

[jisforjudi2]

Barbara Hale and a couple of pro football players acting like pro football players in The Case of the 12th Wildcat

[formula1fanfiction]

Max Verstappen / George Russell

Title: It started pretty slowly

Pairing: Max Verstappen / George Russell

Characters: Max Verstappen, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton

Prompt: Please could I have alpha Max finding venerable omega George in heat in the paddock and max really wants him, but he asks Lewis permission first? Thnx

It's the end of another underwhelming race weekend for Max, Lando has closed in a fair chunk of points, it's not really worrying him, not yet anyway. The twenty second penalty just means he had to stay way later than everyone else for a debrief and telling off, what a joke. The paddock is practically empty now, it's dark outside. There's a few stray people cleaning things up, but that's about it.

He's about to get into a car and drive home, when he hears a distressed whine coming from behind the bins, at first he thinks it's a lost cat until he smells it, the unmistakable scent of an unmated omega in heat. The omega must be pretty far gone, judging by how strong the scent is. Despite what people think, he's not as heartless as they make him out to be, so he goes to help. It puts him on edge a little bit, there's a handful of omega drivers in the paddock, he hopes it's not one of them in a dangerous vulnerable position.  

It is one of his fellow drivers, he finds George Russell curled up besides a mess of broken carbon fibre, still in his race suit, looking worse for wear. "George?" He doesn't know to approach, he wants to help but he doesn't want startle to omega into a panic. He closes the distance, with one step at a time.

"Alpha." George crawls forward, his pupils dilating completely. This is much worse than the thought. "Let's help you up, okay?" George stares blankly, as Max wraps an arm around his waist and helps him up. The back of his hand, makes contact with George's ass and it's dripping wet with slick. This is torture! George mewls at that and Max's own cock takes an interest, fuck sake.

"Max, my max? Alpha?" George purrs cat like and rubs his face into Max's neck. He wants George so badly, but how can he say yes, he's quite sure George doesn't even know where he is right now. "I'm going to call Lewis, okay? He's a fellow omega, he's safe okay" George ignores him, and keeps nuzzling.

Lewis picks up on the first ring, he must know it's something important because he's never had to phone Lewis in his life. "Please help, I found George in the paddock behind the bins, he's pretty far gone in heat-" Lewis doesn't let him finish. "Don't touch him, he can't consent." Well obviously, does Lewis think he's just going to take George behind the bins? "I just want to know what to do, what the fuck?"

"Sorry, he disappeared after the race, we knew his heat had come early and thought he had gone home to take care of it. Can you take him back to your hotel, and i'll pick him up from there?" Max agrees, but he can't help but feel a bit pissed about it, don't Mercedes take care of their omega's? He quickly gives Lewis his address, George has now climbed into his lap and is happily purring there. This isn't going to be easy, the scent is so overwhelming his cock is twitching uncontrollably in his pants.

"Come on let's get into my car, i'll get you to safety okay?" George blinks, his eyes turning fully black, fuck his heat riddled brain has interrupted that as something else.  "Yes alpha, knot? Max's knot yes?" The fact he can't form any kind of sentence is slightly worrying but George gets into the car easily, however the drive back can't be described as easy, George is whining at the loss of contact and Max has to mouth breathe the entire way home to stop him crashing the car.   

Infuriatingly Lewis isn't waiting for them, so Max has to take George back into his room, to keep him safe, which sends the omega crazy. Max is a messy person, there are various items of clothing strewn around the room. George seems to be delighted by this and collects all the clothing, scenting it and making it into what seems to be some kind of nest. It's so adorable, Max really wants him. It's going to break his heart to say no, he's trying so hard and he's going to have to turn him down.

"Alpha, nest?" George pats the place beside him as he struggles with the zip on his race suit. "Do you want me to help you take it off?" There's fire proofs under there it's fine, he tells himself  as he pulls down the zipper. He knows he's made a mistake, the smell of George's slick becomes overwhelming. "Want you, alpha." George pulls him into the nest and starts scenting him. It feels so nice.

George hisses at the knock of the door. "No, no Max, my Max no." George cries as Max climbs out of the nest, and goes to open the door. Lewis shoots him a disapproving glance at the obvious erection in his sweat pants. Lewis collects George's race suit from the floor and makes his way to the nest.

"Why did you let him nest with your clothes? And let him scent you, what the fuck Max? This heat is going to be horrible for him now." Max wants to cry, he didn't want to make this any worse, he loves George and just wanted to do right by him. Max is close to tears when Lewis climbs into the nest, there seems to be some kind of omega communication, Max can't understand a word, it's obviously not English.

"Hurry up Lewis, this is torture for the both of us." Lewis looks him up and down an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you want him or do you want him?"

"Obviously I want him, I want to take care of him. Do you think I would have done all this if I had just wanted to fuck him?" He knows he's being irrationally angry but when there is an omega in a nest of your clothes, begging for you it's hard, especially when you want to wrap your arms around said omega and make him feel loved and cared for, both in heat and not in heat.

"Okay." Lewis nuzzles George's nose. "I'm confident he wants this too, just take care of him. He's sensitive, don't be too rough with him or anything." Max nods, feeling relieved, Lewis wishes his fellow omega and safe heat and leaves, not without threatening Max on the way out. "Look after him and call me if you need anything."

"Alpha?" George's scent has turned sour, his alpha abandoning him to talk to another omega will be the cause of that. "What do you want my sweet little omega?" George pats his nest, and Max climbs in obediently.

"Aww sweetheart, are you sure you want this?" George responds by pressing his nose into Max's hoodie and breathes in, purring happily. "I take that as a yes." George's skin is burning hot, his heat must be borderline painful for him now. "Come on sweetheart, let's take this top off you, you're too hot." George lets Max undress him, down to his boxer shorts, they are so wet the fabric has turned from light grey to dark. Max's cock is screaming at him with interest, but he wants to take this at George's pace.

"Alpha, cold." Max chuckles, there is no way, he's sweating so badly that his hair is stuck to his forehead, he's quite sure George just wants to cuddle and if that's what he wants that's what he'll get. "Shall we take this to the bed? I don't want to ruin your pretty little nest." George purrs in delight, with the compliment of the nest. He lets Max take him from the nest and onto the bed.

They cuddle on top of the covers, Max doesn't want George to overheat, his head is buried inside of Max's neck. It's almost intoxicating for Max, the smell of the omega in heat, is just so overwhelming it's taking every ounce of his self control not to jump  him right now, but if George needs cuddles first, that's exactly what Max will give to him.

"Alpha wants?" George giggles like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, he's not even sure what George is trying to say, Max's knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping onto the covers, not wanting to take advantage of the omega. George whines, he was clearly asking some kind of question.

"Knot?" He tries again, rolling off Max and presenting himself, fuck. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods. "Alpha, please." Max helps George out of his dripping wet boxer shorts and presses three fingers inside, he's never had an omega so wet before.

Max can start to feel his instincts kick in, his own brain going fuzzy at this. "George? Are you really sure you want this?" George whines again, leaning forward onto his elbows to push his ass up even higher. "Alpha." Max chuckles. "Okay, I understand, you needy little thing."

"let me take care of you, sweet heart." George yelps in delight as his legs are pulled backwards and practically wrapped around Max's neck. George is dripping wet, Max licks a swipe across his hole and tastes that sweet slick. George moans in pleasure, Max keeps licking up the slick around his wet entrance, then lets his tongue slip inside. What he really wants is to, suck George completely dry but there's just too much of it. George shudders below him as he comes all over the bed sheets. Max pulls away, the slick glistening on his chain.   

"Poor baby, you're a mess aren't you?" George is a withering mess now, Max has pulled away from him. That orgasm has clearly done absolutely nothing to help  him. "Does my little omega, need more?" George just nods, and presents himself for a second time "What do you need baby?"

"Knot, knot, knot." His whole body is trembling, he needs this badly. Max doesn't want to make him wait any longer. "I'll give you my knot, my sweet little omega." George purrs in delight. "Please."

Max takes off his own clothes, George is in a vulnerable state already, so out of respect he wants to be fully naked too. "Are you ready, sweet omega?" Max can't quite resist the kiss on the back of his sweaty head. George moans. "Alpha." Max holds his hips very gently and sinks inside.

George moans and presses his face into the soft pillow, as Max pushes into him inch by inch. He's so wet, it's like a knife through warm butter as he bottoms out inside of him. Sparks fly, it feels like George's body was made to accept his cock. His teeth ache, from the overwhelming need to bite the omega.  

Max doesn't bother to stall, George doesn't need him to do so, all he wants is a knot, he covers George's body with his own and starts slowly thrusting into him, letting George feel every inch of his thick cock. He can't bite down, instead he sucks a nice purple bruises onto George' neck, that will have to do for now.

"More, more." George writhers underneath him, pushing his hips up to meet Max's thrust, who had slowed down a little too much when sucking the mark onto his neck. "Sorry my little love." Max doesn't need to be told twice, he pulls himself out of George's neck and starts to thrust into him harder and deeper. George mewls in delight at finally getting what he wants, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust looking for that little bundles of nerves, that he knows will fill George full of pleasure.  

"Yes, alpha, yes, yes." George throws his head back, his mating gland popping alarmingly, torturing Max. He's loving the moans of pleasure falling from George's lips, loving that he's the one giving the omega this much pleasure as he continues to hit his prostate with every thrust.

"Does this cute little omega, want to cum?" Max wraps his fist around George's leaking cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts. George buckles and withers underneath him, with the pleasure. It doesn't take much longer, with the constant slamming onto his prostate and the skill of Max's hand. He cums for the second time, spraying the bed sheets below him. This orgasm does nothing, his cock stays hard and twitches furiously in his hand.

"Knot, hurts alpha, knot." George looks like he's on the verge of tears. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods and rests his head on the pillow. Max knows it won't be much longer, his knot has already swelled alarmingly, he just needs it to catch now. He squeezes down on George's tiny waist and speeds up his thrusts.

Max's instincts fully take over as the knot starts to catch. "Going to claim you baby, you're my little omega, he's still got enough senses to not bite George where it matters, instead he bites down on George's shoulder, who yelps in pleasured pain as he cums again. Max's knot is almost there now, he thrusts into George a few more times and soon they are fully locked together.

George lets out a content little sigh, Max's mind comes back to him, he swipes away the blood from George's shoulder and pulls him into a sort of spooning position. His heart is pounding with fear, George hasn't said a word yet.

"Blimey Max, i'm so sorry." He sniffs, going stiff in Max's arms. Something's wrong, there's a change in his scent and he's trying to shuffle as far as can from Max, while still being attached to him. "What are you sorry for?"

"For forcing you to knot me, I get really clingy and embarrassing when i'm in heat. As soon as this pops, i'll be out of your hair don't worry, i'll spend the rest of my heat with toys." Max growls, it's so loud George jumps a little. "Look if you don't want me and you would rather have your toys that's fine, but i'm happy to help you out, I really like you."

Max's knot chooses that exact moment to pop, and he's able to take George into his arms, they are face to face now, his big blue eyes are watery from unshed tears. "I've wanted you for so long Max, i'm sorry for this, i'm on birth control." Max swipes George's tears away with his thumbs. "I had to bite your shoulder, my instincts were screaming at me to mate you, I want you too."

George looks confused, his lashes are clumped together with tears. "You want me? Why?" The look of confusion, hurts a little bit, he looks genuinely shocked that anyone would want him. "I like you, you don't let your status rule you. I hate soppy little omega's who just roll over for alpha's." George giggles at this, his skin is starting to get hot again. "I don't think i'd get very far as an omega in motor sports with that attitude."

The smell of slick starts filling up the room again. "I'm- Are you sure Max?" Max pins George down onto the mattress and growls. "Do you think i'm going to miss the chance to ruin this little omega for the second time? No and after all of this we'll talk about making this a regular thing."

"Bite me alpha." Fuck, this heat is going to be much harder than he thought.      

[certaincollectionlandblog]

F1 Drivers I believe would have a plus size girlfriend part 2

I have no true evidence to back up these theories, but going strictly off of vibes. I am convinced our bros would be down to date some plus size queens, especially some tall ones ;) Please feel free to leave feedback below!

All photos are from Pinterest!

Lewis Hamilton

Hear me out y'all like just look at this adorable man and his even more adorable dog

His loves Roscoe's rolls and he is sure to love yours too

Look into that man's eyes and tell me he isn't made of sweet love and kindness; that's right you can't

Lewis already loves to wear oversized clothes and he makes sure to buy some in sizes that work for you too so that you can borrow them anytime you want

This man is nothing short of a gym rat, but given his job as a professional F1 driver that's honestly expected because he's got to stay on top of his game to be safe

Lewis feels like the type to date someone who is plus sized, even a tall plus sized woman queen, but I do feel like Lewis would love to have someone who also led a somewhat active lifestyle

before anyone says anything there are plus size people who are active and people have the right to have preferences about the people they want in relationships

Sometimes after a long day you and Lewis spend time in bed and you like to trace all of his tattoos

Lewis and you are a very social couple; unlike most of the other guys who give off more private but not secret relationships I think that you and Lewis would have your fair share of social media presence as a couple

This man worships you on and off of social media

Lewis loves cuddling with you; your soft curves and warm embrace makes him feel like he's snuggling with a cloud

Lewis seems like the type of man to walk up behind you and regardless of your height to wrap his arms around your waist and just give you hugs from behind constantly

I can't really explain it, but I feel like Lewis is such an ass man

He loves when your in leggings or short shorts; however he adores when you're wearing dresses because it allows for easy access

Lewis seems like the kind of guy to go absolutely feral on you at some points and I feel like he would literally lick any stretch marks you have while holding eye contact

Honey at that point if you weren't flowing like the Nile river you might want to reevaluate some things

He loves the contrast between his hard body and your soft comfy body

I think that Lewis would love to take you out at various places across the world when you're together, but that he also would love some nights in with you cooking dinner and watching a movie together because even as social as you two are you both need some days to recharge

Lando Norris

okay I must admit that at first I didn't think that Lando would date a plus size woman, but the more I thought about it and watched interviews with Lando and such I think I had previously judged him too soon

Lando is a sweetheart; he is always stopping to take time to meet kids and this man just seems like he has a heart of gold

I think that if Lando were to date a plus size lady that he would be very much like George were you're not "Lando's plus size gal" or that he sees you as bigger; he just sees you as Y/N his girl

I think that Lando would loves showing you off

Lando has been very social with his past relationships before and I have no reason to believe that he wouldn't be that way with you

Lando is very much a boob man; I don't believe in any other suggestions

Even if you were a member of the itty bitty titty committee Lando would still love them because boobs are boobs baby

He loves to see you wear his merch like this man becomes feral from that alone

I am saying it right now I feel like Lando not only has a choking kink, but I get the vibe that he has a breeding kink as well

Lando can barely keep his hands to himself! I mean how can be expected to when you look like that

It's no secret that once you and Lando have a single drop of alcohol in y'alls system that y'all are all over each other

Lando loves seeing you with kids and all he can picture is how you would be the perfect mother with your caring heart and not going to lie the idea of you pregnant with his baby stirs something in him

He loves to play video games together and he even gets y'all matching sweat suits because this man is such a simp for you

This man is constantly taking pictures of you and often shares them on his social media, however we can't dismiss the fact that not all of those photos would be safe for all audiences

His loves to have a hand on you constantly

There is no doubt about this man's love language being physical touch

Lando loves to see you all dressed up because he loves knowing that he's the only who gets to see what's under it all

[f1babe98]

The Arrangement

Chapter1  Chapter2  Chapter3  Chapter4

Warnings: smut, fluff, swearing (maybe)

Chapter 5

It has been 3 weeks since the photos of me and Lewis went public. I knew going into this that that was the point. I knew that the public needed to see us together for this whole thing to work. What I did not know was the feelings of insecurity and disgust I would feel towards myself because of it. The comments that people made and the articles that were written have led to insecurities I didn't even know I had.

Lewis Hamilton dates fat girl

Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend is overweight.

Lewis Hamilton is a chubby chaser.

What does he see in her?

I knew parts of my life would change, I just never expected random people on the street to take my picture everywhere I went. I never expected to have everyone stare and whisper as I walked past them at the office. People I have known for over a year are gossiping behind my back and judging me. When the story first broke all I heard for a whole week was how I used Lewis to get the job (even tho we only met after I was hired) or I was using him to move up in the company or I was using him for his money so i didn't have to keep working.

Lewis offered to speak publicly and to set the record straight at work but it would only make me look like I needed my famous boyfriend to protect me.

“Hey where are you?” Lewis asked as he paused the movie we were supposed to be watching.

‘I'm right here.” I said, looking over at him.

“No you’re not.” He chuckled.

It feels like these moments, the private ones, the ones that aren't part of the agreement are my only comfort. Sometimes, if I just pretend hard enough it's almost like a real relationship. The cooking dinner, the walks with Roscoe, the movie nights, driving to work together, the amazing sex, it’s like playing house. I can almost just shutout the world. 

“I'm sorry”

“It's alright, what's going on in that pretty head of yours darling?”

“I just keep thinking about work and how this whole situation makes me dread going in everyday. Not you, you're amazing. I could just do without the comments and looks and whispers everyday.”

“I'm sorry, I feel like this is all my fault.”

“It's not your fault, you've been nothing but gracious and sweet.”

Lewis pulled into his chest. We lay there for a while before he unpaused the movie. I took out my phone to scroll through Instagram. Reading all the comments left under Lewis’ latest post. Mostly negative comments about my weight and the way that I look. One comment in particular struck a chord. “How do they have sex? Like there's no way she can be on top, and she would kill him if she sat on his face!”

“Bullshit”

I look up to see Lewis also reading the comments over my shoulder. 

“You know I love when you ride me and you haven't sat on my face because you haven't asked. If you asked, I would have no problem with it.”

“They're right, I would suffocate you.”

He raised one eyebrow like I had just challenged him. He grabbed me by my thighs and put me straddling his lap. His hands running up and down my thighs.

“Princess, you're not as big as you think you are and you're definitely not as big as those people are making you out to be.”

“But you admit, I'm big.”

“No you’re not. You're thick. Those people are just jealous because they probably have no ass or boobs or curves.”

He stood suddenly making me giggle and gasp. He started to make his way to the bedroom.

“If you don't believe me, I'll just have to show you.”

He slowly lowered me once inside the room, leaning down and kissing me. We slowly began to undress each other. Taking our time, letting our hands explore each other's bodies. He led me backwards until we reached the bed, turning so that he was the one closest to the bed. He slowly lowered himself down, taking me with him. Once he was fully laying down, he guided me up his body until I reached his face.

“Relax baby girl, I promise you won’t hurt me.”

I nodded slightly. I began to lower myself down until I sat fully on his face.

“Don't do that” He grunts at me.

“Do what?”

“Hold yourself up like you're afraid to kill me”

“Lewis come on, I’m not tiny”

“No, thankfully, but you're not big either.”

Lewis wraps his hands around my thighs and pulls me down further. Before I can argue any further, I feel his tongue on my folds. The way he's sucking on my clit fogs up my brain, I can't focus on anything other than him. I begin the rock against his mouth, placing one hand on the head board the other in his curly hair. The vibrations of his moans send shock waves thru me. 

“Yes daddy” 

Over the past 3 weeks we’ve learned all kinds of new kinks, discovering Lewis enjoys being called daddy in the bedroom being one of them. I feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter after a few minutes. The moans increasing tenfold. Before long I feel the knot explode and I'm riding out my high, Lewis continuing his actions until I can't take it anymore. I roll over onto the bed in full starfish mode. Lewis pulls me close, my back pressed against his chest. He begins to kiss down my neck. 

“See I told you, i'm not dead. Far from it actually.” 

He rubs his thick cock against my ass. He reaches behind him in the bed side table and pulls out a condom, rolling it on. He slowly lifts my leg and begins to gently insert his cock into me.

“You okay princess?”

I nod my head, letting it fall back on his chest. He rolls his hips into me, the angle causing him to hit my g spot every time. I roll my hips in sync with his, taking his hand and placing it onto my breast. The slow movements prolonging the pleasure we both feel, making it feel like hours before we reach our climaxes. 

Lewis gently pulls out and proceeds to the bathroom. I whine at the feeling of emptiness and I hear his chuckle. He returns like always with a washcloth and carefully cleans me up before throwing it in the wash. He pulls back the covers and helps me under before pulling me to his chest once again.

“Sweet dreams princess”

“Sweet dreams lulu.”

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 34!! @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @yarchurr @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

“This is fucking stupid.” Raph was pacing anxiously, his frustrations coming out in the form of heavy breaths.

“I totally agree.” Donnie agreed, “But you know Leo. He’d not gonna let this go.”

“He he fucking ought to! We ain’t got time for this shit!”

The Leo’s were both separately getting ready for the spar, but with such an open space it was nearly impossible for them to get out of each other's line of sight. This resulted in what could only be described as a heated staring content between the both of them as they sharpened their katana and odachi almost passive-aggressively. The brothers and sister of both proud ninja were intermingled in a group together— their brothers’ antics weren’t enough to drive them apart completely, but it was enough for a wedge to be stuck between them.

“Is Leo gonna be okay?” Michelangelo appealed to Donatello, grabbing a hold of the older teens arm.

“I don’t know Michael.” Donatello sighed, sticking his nose in the air in his frustration, “Leon’s always getting himself in this kind of trouble! It’s gonna catch up to him eventually!”

“Hopefully not today.” Michelangelo said, looking to Leo. “Other Leo is very large. He’s jumbo sized!”

“Sadly, his brain didn't get the memo.”

Mikey was looking between both of the Leo’s with no small amount of guilt. Donnie had given him the clear after he had calmed slightly and the pain in his chest wasn’t so bad, but now the pain had been replaced with an intense sadness. Michelangelo nudged his brother and pointed to the sad box turtle, and then both brothers nodded at each other with similar intent as they marched over and each took a seat beside Mikey. 

“Why the long face?” Michelangelo pouted.

“I dunno, Mike, seems kinda… oblong to me.” Donatello motioned vageuly to Mikey’s face.

Mikey gave the slightest chuckle before he started to cry softly. Michelangelo frowned and looked to Donatello, who quickly pulled a tissue from out of his battle shell and offered it to Mikey. Mikey accepted it and, after a moments thought, said,

“You just carry tissues around wherever?”

“I never know when I’ll have to break out the dramatics~!” Donatello struck a pose.

“Are you okay?” Michelangelo gave Mikey a gentle stroke on the shoulder. “You look sad.”

“I’m just… useless.” Mikey hung his head.

That statement caused both Hamato brothers to erupt in loud, overlaying denial as they practically swarmed Mikey trying to convince him otherwise.

“You’re not!”

“You’re really not.”

“You’re incredible!”

“I once tried nunchucks for a day. Hit myself in the head, cried in a corner, slept in said corner. Very traumatizing.”

“You can do lots of things!”

“Except fight, apparently…” Mikey pouted, crossing his arms. “I just watched my dad and your dad get taken and I did nothing!”

“You’re not the only one who did nothing!” Donatello offered.

Michelangelo swatted Donatello and scowled at him a second before turning back to Mikey. “You panicked— that’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“We were there! We— we could’ve helped stop them! We—“

“What could we have done…?” Michelangelo asked softly, laying a hand on Mikey’s knee.

Mikey gave a long, tired sigh reminiscent of someone far older with many more years of life bearing down on his shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” Michelangelo said, “But what we could’ve done is gotten hurt! He took out all your brothers in one swing! All we would’ve ended up doing is getting taken out with them.”

“But don’t you think—“

“Come on.” Mikey’s words were interrupted by his Leo, who had lost what little patience remained as he strutted forward with the confidence of gods. “Let’s get this over with.”

Leo was the first in the dojo and he stood there as if he was still challenging Leonardo to back down at the cost of his honor. Leonardo didn't move from his place where he was still polishing his odachi.

“Well?” Leo prompted, “Come on! You challenged me to this, remember! Don’t you want to defend your honor?”

Leonardo thought for a second, and then shrugged. “Eh, never really had much of that to begin with. And I have all the time in the world baby!”

Despite his words, Leonardo seemed to accept his counterpart's challenge and stood from his seated position, giving his odachi a few experimental swipes before he came to join Leo in the dojo.

“This ain’t gonna end good...” April shook her head. Her face was painted to match Leonardo’s markings and she brandished a blue flag in support. Upon seeing Leonardo entering the dojo, however, she promptly cheered, “WHOOP WHOOP! YOU GOT THIS LEON!”

The rest of the gathered mutants— all except Raphael, who was still sleeping off his exhaustion— gathered in a tight group to watch as the scene unfolded. Donnie split from the group one last time in an attempt to appeal to his brother.

“Leo, this is crazy!” Donnie said, but it was like talking to a wall, “You can’t fight him!”

“Why not?” Leo asked calmly without dignifying Donnie’s concern with even a glance.

“Well, one, he's a child.” Donnie deadpanned, “And two, we need to be focusing on finding Master Splinter.”

“Trust me Don, this isn’t gonna take very long.”

“What you gonna do, punt the fifteen year old?!”

“He’s the one who picked a fight.” Leo growled.

“Yeah. Oh course he did.” Donnie leaned closer to his brother and spoke slowly, as if Leo were dense, “He’s. A. Teenager. A dumb, confident teenager!”

“So are we.”

“We’re gonna be twenty next month— I hardly think it counts!”

Leo didn't respond. He stared forward with a determined look and simply walked away from Donnie, leaving his younger brother staring after him with a frustrated disbelief.

Leo faced his counterpart. “Do you know the duel rights?”

Leonardo shrugged almost cartoonishly.

“Of course not.” Leo sighed, then carried on, “Rule number one: The offending party has the right to an apology and, if it is accepted by the offended party, then the duel will not carry to term.”

“Okay, so you gonna apologize them?” Leonardo asked, almost hopefully.

Leo narrowed his eyes and gave no answer. “If there is no apology met, then the next rule of order is to choose a second. The seconds are the judges— they try to reach a peace, and if a peace is unable to be met, then we move onto phase three. My second is my brother Raphael.” 

Raph grunted softly and split off from the group to hesitantly come to Leo’s side. 

“Don, you feeling up to it?” Leonardo looked to his brother.

Donatello gave it a moment's thought before shrugging and sauntering off almost in a bored fashion to Leonardo’s side.

“How do we win?” Leonardo asked.

“To win, you must knock down your opponent and hold your blade to their throat. Rule number three! The seconds try to negotiate a peace.” Leo gave a nod, and Raph lumbered forward to meet Donatello in the middle. The two of them quickly fell to a hushed discussion.

“Hello.” Donatello said, his eyes half-lidded and his voice dull.

“Hey— can’t you just try and get your Leo to apologize?” Raph almost pleaded, “You know this ain’t exactly a fair fight.”

“I know.” Donatello replied with little enthusiasm. “Your Leo’s gonna get knocked flat on his Gluteus Maximus. That’s science terms for buttocks. Aka: ass.”

Raph gave a half-amused snort. “No offense, pancake, but I think we both know that ain’t right.”

“Oh wowwwwww, so original.” Donatello slumped, “I’m so hurt. Then again you do have a good point.

Raph smiled, thinning himself victorious until Donatello added,

“I mean, there’s nothing Maximus about his Gluteus.” Donatello motioned to Leo with his thumb.

“No—” Raph growled and forced a smile as he addressed Donatello with slow words, “What I meant was that your brother is gonna end up with the same fate as a firework on Fourth of July.” He made an explosion motion and added his own sound effects, “I mean— come on! It’s like a dodge against a semi-truck— your bro stands no chance!”

“I think we can stand to disagree on that.” Donatello defended his brother calmly.

Raph fixed Donatello with a deadpan expression. “You’re not gonna back down are you?”

“Negatory.” Donatello finally smiled— little more than a slight curve of his lips, but still a smile. “Or way— would that be an affirmative? Eh. Doesn’t matter. Either way I believe we are done here.”

Without another word, he spun on his heels and carried himself confidently over to his brother���s side. Raph grumbled as he often did before taking his leave a few seconds after. There was a minute of stressful silence as both seconds reported to their brothers before Leo stepped forward again.

“Rule four. Draw your weapon only once there is a medic on sight with his back turned.”

Leonardo whistled. “I mean, not that I couldn’t beat you with my back turned, but seriously?”

“Not you.” Leo growled, “Donnie will be our medic on standby.” Leo motioned the tech genius to turn around, and Donnie hesitantly obeyed. This left only the Mikey’s watching. Once Leo was satisfied, he went on, “Rule five would usually include dueling at dawn, but I hardly think it matters down here.”

Leonardo looked up at the high ceiling and then down at Leo. 

“Rules six and seven are also moot given our particular circumstances. Unless you have a god you pray to…?”

“Eh, some may describe me as a God, but I think I forgive myself for my sins~”

It took everything Leo had to keep his cool. “Rule number eight. Your last chance to set the record straight.”

“Hey! That rhymed! Good for you!”

“Wait are you just getting these from the Hamilton Musical?” Donatello started to ask, but was interrupted; even as Leo spoke over him, he still continued to talk until he finished the sentence.

“Rule number nine! Look your enemy in the eye.” He and Leonardo locked gazes, “Meet your enemy in the middle…”

Leonardo and Leo took four paces each until they were directly in front of each other.

“Summon your courage in any way necessary.” Leo said cooly, giving a bow that Leonardo returned, “Take a minute to breathe, then take ten paces back.”

The Leo’s were almost in perfect sync as they took their paces backward, now several paces behind their seconds while still facing each other.

“Ready your sword…”

Twin katana and a single odachi were held at the ready.

“Take one final breath…”

No one in the room breathed.

“And count to ten. One… two… three… four...”

“...five...six…seven… eight... nine...”

“Ten.”

[thevindicativevordan]

My Take on a Superman Video Game

I've seen other people give their takes on how to approach this, and given Superman and video games are two major topics of interest for me, I thought I'd give my pitch.

So first off, I’m giving him a health bar. Yes I know some people will b**** and no I don’t care. I don’t care what people who get their Superman knowledge from YouTube or Instagram “fact” pages think about the character, and all the other attempts such as the city health bar in the Returns game didn’t satisfy me. So right off the bat he’s getting a health bar. Second: it’s time to start showing casuals areas of Superman lore they either don’t know about or aren’t very familiar with. The reason for that is people think they “know” Superman so we need to immediately show something they DON’T know about or HAVEN’T seen already to get them to not immediately dismiss Superman out of hand based on memes or whatever. Which leads into my third creative point. Third: I’m not setting the first game in Metropolis. The Arkham games didn’t immediately throw you into an open world Gotham, they built up to it. The Spider-Man PS4 game started off with an open world because they were able to build upon dozens of Spider-Man games that laid the ground work for them. The first Superman game in decades needs to avoid biting off more than it can chew, and throwing Superman into an open world feels like a bad idea. So where can it be? Well there are options. There’s Warworld. There’s Apokolips. But I think the best location is one that’s intrinsically tied to Superman and his Kryptonian background, and serves as a nice counterpart to Batman starting out in Arkham Asylum: The Phantom Zone

The Asylum was a great starting point for Batman for a couple reason: 1. It’s the iconic prison where Batman leaves his Rogues, 2. It’s gothic and horror esque vibe crafts the perfect atmosphere, and 3. it’s place as a center for examining the mind makes it great for exploring Batman’s mental state. For similar reason the PZ is the perfect place to start off Superman: 1. It likewise is an iconic prison for Superman Rogues 2. It’s science fiction and horror mixed together which crafts the perfect atmosphere for Superman to kick ass or be introspective, and 3. It lets Kal come face to face with his Kryptonian heritage in the nastiest way possible as he’s dumped into a place filled with prisoners his father helped exile as well as all the other monsters and criminals other races have dumped there. So he’s going to the Zone but how does he get there and what’s the story? It would be boring if he just walked in. Here’s the pitch: It’s Year 2 of Superman’s career. He’s already established himself as a hero in Metropolis and worldwide. The public knows he claims to mean them no harm and that he only seems to do good deeds, but they know very little about his origins and are divided as to his true intentions. The problem is Clark himself doesn’t really know his origins either beyond knowing he’s an alien from another planet. His only relics from his home planet are the rocket, a tablet written in a language he can’t read, and a curious device that doesn’t seem to have any use. As a show of goodwill, and because he hasn’t made any progress understanding them himself, Clark turns the tablet and the device over to STAR Labs for study. One day as he’s beating down some Intergang thugs, reality twists, and suddenly Clark finds himself in a place that is definitely not Metropolis. The “earth” is chalk white, the sky is a purple, green lightning flashes around as far as he can see, and where the sun should be there’s instead a black hole. Somehow Clark and the terrified Intergang thugs have ended up in the Phantom Zone with no idea of how they got there and how to get back.

The thugs accuse Clark of transporting them there and attack him, with Clark suddenly realizing his powers are fading in this place with no sunlight. Luckily a stranger arrives and aids Clark in dispatching the thugs. Clark thanks him for his aid and then asks who he is. The stranger pauses and tells Clark: “My name is Dru-Zod, a general of Krypton”. He raises a hand for Clark to shake. “I was a friend of your father, Kal-El”. Zod tells Kal about the place he’s in, and his history with it. He tells him that other humans have been brought here as well besides the Intergang thugs, including many of Clark’s foes. Zod informs Clark that the likely culprit for their arrival to the PZ is the very first prisoner Jor-El ever banished to the Phantom Zone: Xa-Du the Phantom King, who has spent so long imprisoned that he seems to have obtained a degree of control over the Zone that gives him strange powers. Kal is told that if he does not collect the scattered humans and escape the Zone soon, he and the humans will become trapped there, as anyone who spends too long in the Zone eventually becomes unable to leave without special equipment on the other side to bring them back, thanks to the way the Zone warps the inhabitants. Kal’s mission is clear: Collect the scattered humans, defeat and pacify his foes trapped there with him so they can be brought back as well, and defeat the Phantom King before he tears a hole between the Zone and the real world that could cause catastrophe for Earth. That’s the basic story pitch, next I’ll go into gameplay mechanics and what Rogues I’d use.

Clark starts the game having been de powered back to “Golden Age” power levels due to there being no sun in the PZ. Zod teaches him about Sunstones that grow naturally in the PZ, which will allow him to slowly re-empower himself. The Sunstones ward off the PZ’s influence and basically act as perk points for Clark to unlock and upgrade his powers. At the start he can’t fly, he can only run and leap. Zod acts as Kal’s mentor throughout the game, teaching him about Kryptonian history and how to read the language. He also tutors him in the dangers of the Phantom Zone as well as training him to hone his powers. Kal gets the feeling there’s more to Zod than he’s letting on though, and some of his comments raise Kal’s suspicions. The base of the game is the Fortress of Solitude.

It’s backstory is that when Jor-El first discovered the PZ, he built the FoS as a research outpost to study the place. It’s packed full of Kryptonian tech and it has the ability to shift back into the natural world. Zod couldn’t use it because it’s caretaker Kelex only responds to House El members. However it won’t shift back until it judges its user “sterilized” in order to avoid contaminating the natural world with the Zone’s influence. Because Kal was brought over so suddenly and without the proper tech, he has to use Sunstones to purge the Zone from his body before the Fortress will respond to his commands. This is a nice way of tying the gameplay and story together. Kal needs the stones to save the civilians and to go home, which helps explain why he might do side quests rather than stick with just the main questline. Civilians Superman has to rescue in the Zone: Lois Lane, Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, Dr. Veritas, Ron Troupe, Dr. John Henry Irons, Dr. Hamilton, Bibbo, Dr. Hank Henshaw and his family, Commissioner Henderson, Captain Maggie Sawyer, Detective Turpin, members of the Newskids Legion, Morgan Edge, and other OCs or nameless civilians. Kal also meets Krypto, who was transported into the Zone by Jor-El in order to watch over the Fortress as its guard, in order to keep it safe so that Kal might one day reclaim it. Rogues: Some of Superman’s Rogues have been teleported to the PZ as well, and unfortunately they have their own plans for escaping the Zone, even if it means they have to kill Superman to do it.

Metallo: John Corbyn is a cyborg soldier that served in the US Army under Sam Lane and was created as the government’s Anti-Superman deterrent. After a fight with Superman in his early career left him crippled, he was bonded to a nanosuit that equips him with various weaponry capable of killing Superman. He believes Superman transported everyone there as part of a first strike against humanity. Parasite: A Lexcorp lab experiment gone horribly wrong, Rudy Jones is a science fiction vampire who needs to kill to sustain himself. He absorbs the memories and skills of whoever he kills, and he is able to transform his body into various weapons (think Alex Mercer from [PROTOTYPE] to know what I mean). He’s hunting the civilians to feed on and has his eye on Superman as well. Livewire: Leslie was a vlogger with a far looser code of ethics than Clark. Her “reporting” eventually angered the wrong people who attempted to have her assassinated. Instead Leslie ended up with powers over electromagnetism, and a grudge against Morgan Edge who she believes was behind the Intergang hit on her. Edge is her target but she doesn’t mind stepping over Superman’s corpse if she has to. The Terran (Terra-Man): Krypton wasn’t the only planet to discover the Phantom Zone. One alien race banished the immortal hunter known as the Terran, whose human name was Tobias before he was abducted by aliens who were interested in the potential of the human meta gene and wanted to experiment on him. Their experiment was a success and Tobias broke free, using their own weaponry to hunt them down and carve a bloody path across the stars. Eventually he was transported to the PZ and is now desperate to escape. Mr. Mxy: Who is this creature? Neither a human nor seemingly an alien prisoner of the PZ, Mxy engages Clark in a series of puzzles that reveal secrets about the PZ... and foretell of threats to come. Red Cloud: An enforcer for the Invisible Mafia, her only loyalty is to her boss Leone. Her identity is a secret from Clark for now and she intends for it to remain that way. Silver Banshee: Not every human teleported to the PZ was unchanged. Some reacted much more strongly to the Zone’s influence. One former human has now been twisted into the sinister Silver Banshee, driven insane by the whispers in the Zone and the alterations to her body. She poses a formidable threat to Clark in her current state. Xa-Du: The Phantom King and first prisoner of the Phantom Zone sent from Krypton. Zod claims he was insane even before he was sent here but his incarceration has done nothing to improve his health if so. Gleefully plotting his return to the real world, Xa’s only desire is to raise an army of super zombies with himself as their Necrogod ruler. His time in the Zone has given him control over the degraded Phantoms, and he can channel the energies permeating the Zone into a variety of attacks (basically he’s a space necromancer). His aim is to corrupt Kal-El and the Fortress and use both to travel to Earth and he will never stop hunting Kal. Non boss mooks for Clark to fight: Phantoms - Some of the inhabitants of the Zone have degenerated into the ghostly Phantoms, their only desire to spread their suffering to others. They have been so warped by the Zone they’ve become a part of it and are thus incapable of permanently dying. Shades - Much more powerful Phantoms, Shades retain some memory of their former lives and posses some of their former skills. They serve as the elite of Xa-DU’s forces. Shadowbreed - Native creatures of the PZ, these beings feed on the light of the SunStones and thus see Clark as a meal as well. They possess various animals of the PZ to attack and feed on him. Eradicators - Once these machines served House El in their study of this place acting as defenders. But time has eroded their programming and they now seek to destroy even the Last Son of their old House.

That's the basic of my pitch, I think it's a fairly manageable one that addresses a lot of the arguments you get from people about why a game "wouldn't work" or whatever.

[thorsterstrudle]

Scar Tissue

Anon request: can you pleaseeee write a daredevil x reader smut with a lot of teasing & appreciating his body? if you don’t write about daredevil anymore that’s totally fine though!

Daredevil x reader

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (Wrap the Willy before you get Silly), swearing, general NSFW, Law Jargon

You stormed into the dusty attorney office, absolutely fuming. As the already fragile door slammed behind you, your eyes scanned the small lobby. They fell on Karen, who uncomfortably shifted in her pencil skirt behind the desk.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Karen eyed you carefully.

“Yes, actually, I need to speak to Matthew Murdock,” you straightened, looking at each door to the small individual offices before adding, “now.”

You softened slightly as Karen’s wide eyes looked at her with a kind of fear. You were used to this look. It was how your co-counsel looked at you when she went off-script cross-examining a witness. It was how defendants looked when you stared them down as they sat on the stand. It was how opposing counsel looked when you introduced herself as the representative of the state. It was how everyone looked at you, except for one person.

How unfortunate.

Karen stood and walked over to the door labeled, ‘Matthew Murdock, Esq.’ before knocking and opening the door briefly. 

You stared at that crack in the door as if you were going to burn a hole through the back of Karen’s head. You didn’t have a lot of time, and if you wasted any more time on this stupid plea deal, you’d lose your patience.

“It’s okay, let her in,” you heard the deep, gravelly voice from the other side of the door and began approaching before Karen had even turned to her.

“Thank you,” you said to the secretary before opening the door the rest of the way and closing it behind you. You should have felt bad about closing the door in Karen’s face, but where would you be if you thought like that?

“Would you like to sit down, Ms. YLN?” Murdock asked.

You ignored him, jumping immediately into the issue at hand.

“How dare you encourage him to deny our plea deal?” You stuck a finger out, pointing a manicured nail directly into Murdock’s face; his expression never changed, of course.

“Who are you referring to, Ms. YLN?” Murdock played dumb, waiting for you to explode. And, exactly as he had hoped, you did.

“I am talking about the Sims trial, Murdock, and you know it. We offered that plea deal on good faith that you would advise him to accept it, and what did you do?” You took a deep breath, feeling your voice go into that dark, commanding tone that you only use when your fury has been pent up for far too long.

“I encouraged Mr. Sims to deny the plea deal in favor of trial,” Murdoch’s expression never changed, and his voice never wavered, and for that, you were impressed but even more frustrated.

“Listen,” you started, pinching the bridge of your nose, “I really don’t have time for this. And we both know that taking Sims to trial is a waste of tax-payer money and our time. So, just have him agree to the deal, and we’ll be good, okay?” You found your voice turning up in false sweetness at the end before glaring daggers towards the defense attorney across from you.

“I have to disagree, Ms. YLN,” Murdock replied, a small smile on his face as you huffed at his answer, “I think that Mr. Sims is innocent until proven guilty, and that can only be done in a court of law.”

It took all of the willpower you had gained from dealing with privileged frat boys in college and law school to not slam your fist on the table…maybe that would get something more than a calm smile from the blind man.

Getting this plea deal pushed through would keep your record clean. You knew that if this case went to court, it wasn’t a sure conviction, which meant you could have a loss on your hands, and that was the last thing you wanted. Being the youngest partner at your firm meant you had to be aggressive and tenacious, and you had been, but it just wasn’t enough to crack Murdock.

“How about this, Ms. YLN,” Murdock piped up, interrupting your thoughts, “you’re clearly eager to get this deal, so I will hear you out. Unfortunately, I have a meeting in less than fifteen minutes. If you would like, we can continue this conversation over dinner. My place. 7 o’clock. I’ll have Karen send you the information.”

With that, he stood up, took his walking stick, and moved to leave his office, with you still dumbstruck at his desk.

All you could think was, over and over, that motherfucker.

As promised, Karen sent you the address, and you showed up, still wearing work clothing, though it was different than what you had been wearing earlier that day. You’d ditched your blazer and opted instead for just the blouse and dress pants. This was a work dinner.

You knocked three times, sharp raps against the smooth door. No more than a few seconds later, Murdock opened the door, wearing jeans and a button-down. The sleeves of the button up were rolled past his elbows, and you could see the muscles in his forearms as he gestured for you to come in. You quickly looked away, rolling your eyes at yourself for even paying attention to the way the veins in his arm popped as he closed the door behind you.

“Thank you for doing this,” Murdock said, moving to the counter where a bottle of wine and a spread of Caesar salad, scampi, and warm bread.

“No,” you suddenly found yourself feeling more civil, more polite. It had been a long time since any man had cooked for you. You reminded yourself that this was all for the plea deal. That’s all it was. You continued, “thank you. It looks great.”

He offered you a glass after carefully pouring the wine. You studied him as he did so. His hand found the bottle and made its way up to the neck before moving it to meet the glass and pouring slowly. You wondered how long it had taken him to learn how to do that. At the thought, you shook your head, that was rude. Murdoch was a giant pain in your ass right now, and he was blind, but why should you think him doing something normal was exceptional for him? You checked yourself on your ableism before taking the glass he offered.

You tried your best to not jump immediately into the plea deal. Instead, as you both ate, you asked him how his meeting went. His reply was a smile and a nod before elaborating.

“It was good,” he paused, tilting his head slightly, “not incredibly interesting, as it was about a plea deal.”

You stopped chewing, eyes fixed on him, on the way his jaw ticked slightly before grinning.

“I’m kidding,” he offered. 

You took a breath before chuckling and taking a deep gulp of wine. You looked at Murdoch, a defense attorney trying his best to be nice and cordial to you, a prosecutor known for being ruthless. 

It could have been the one—two, three?—glass of wine, but you didn’t feel like being aggressive or assertive or anything like you were at work. In fact, you would much rather be the easy-going woman you were at home, laughing at yourself for talking back to a commercial or making faces at your nieces through FaceTime. 

“Well any meeting beats listening to Judge Hamilton drone on about courtroom etiquette,” you quipped back, not even realizing it.

Murdock—no, Matt—Matt laughed at that.

“I knew it,” he replied, smiling.

“Knew what?” 

“You’re just like the rest of us, bored to death by Judge Hamilton.”

You couldn’t help but smile again, a full, bright smile that actually showed your teeth. You took another sip of wine before picking up a piece of the bread. As you did, Matt leaned back in his chair, sighing. 

“What’s that for?” You asked, popping the bread into your mouth.

“I guess we have to hash out that plea deal now, don’t we?” He said, eyebrows raised. You Looked at him before letting your eyes travel to his shirt, where the top button had come undone. You shouldn’t stare, should you? But what if I’m staring at something interesting? You thought to yourself. You let your eyes travel downwards, past each button, wondering what wonders lay underneath. And then, just as your eyes reached the beginning of his jeans, your view was blocked by the table.

“Ms. YLN?” Matt said, gaining your attention again, barely hiding his small smile. It’s as if he knows. But, there’s no way, right?

“Y/N,” you replied, “outside of the office, I’m Y/N.”

“Sounds good to me, Y/N.”

A few glasses of wine later, the plea deal was all but forgotten. The two of you traded trial stories and made fun of other attorneys, throwing yourselves into laughing fits until the warmth from the alcohol running through your veins made you wonder. You sat there, looking at Matt once again, wondering what about this night, this supposed-to-be work dinner, made you let go, relax. Wine on its own didn’t do this.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You heard Matt’s voice and realized you had been silent for a little bit too long. You exhaled, almost chuckling.

“Fuck it.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what it is about you, Matthew Murdock, but I don’t want this night to end,” before you knew what you were doing, you stood, chair scraping the floor and walking over to him. You paused before asking, “can I take your hand?”

He nodded, head tilted, listening to you intently.

You looked down and took his right hand before slowly moving it up to your face. You closed your eyes as his fingers delicately felt your features, mapping out your face.

“It’s kinder than I would have thought.”

“And how do you know that?” You said, mesmerized.

“All these gentle curves,” he said, tracing your nose, then your jawline, then, slowly, your lips.

“What about these?” You took his hand again and moved it to your waist before taking his free hand and moving it to the other hip, “are these curves soft?”

He hummed, and you thought you might never forget the sound of it.

Matt stood, hands tightening slightly on your hips. You inhaled sharply, waiting.

“Not as soft as your lips, if I may?” 

You smiled before consenting.

And then, to your absolute delight, Matthew Murdock, your would-be enemy in the court system, placed his lips on yours. He had said your lips were soft, but his were more so. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your back.

Before you could stifle it, a moan escaped you.

Instead of pausing like you thought he would, Matt kissed you harder, deeper. Without thinking you moved your hands to his chest, doing some mapping out of your own. You marveled at how firm he was as your hands moved lower.

“These buttons are a bitch,” Matt said as you pulled away slightly, moving to undo the buttons. He scoffed, smiling as, one by one, the button-down was discarded. 

Like so many times before, you found your eyes glued to him. His chest swelled with each breath and his abs contracted as you looked at him. Before you knew it, your hands were on him again, feeling the lines, moving down to his Adonis belt. Your fingers passed over a scar, thick and long. You stopped.

“Stray bullet,” Matt said gently, “and it’s not the only one.”

He said it in a tone that would have confused you if you were any other mental state. It was almost disappointed, like his scars were meant to be disappointing to you. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You knelt, moving closer to him. Once again, he tilted his head, listening to you as you placed your lips on the scar. Looking up, you smirked and began to move again. This time, you made your way up, placing kiss after kiss along his torso, taking special care to attend to the many scars you could now see dotting his body like road markers.

As your lips touched a particular scar on his collarbone, his hand shot up and tangled itself in your hair, bringing you close for another fiery, passionate kiss. You bit his lip gently, and he groaned.

“If I had known you were hiding all of this from me, I would have been a lot more polite,” you said in between kisses. Matt chuckled, his free hand untucking your blouse and feeling the hot skin beneath. You stopped his hand, holding it in place as you discarded your blouse. Then, you led it up to where your lacy white bra covered your breasts.

“Tempting, but I think we’d better move this somewhere a bit more suitable, don’tcha think?” His voice was dark, and you wanted him more than you thought possible. He took your hand and led you to the bedroom, the path memorized in his mind.

He twirled you before having you sit on the bed. This time, he knelt in front of you, hands tracing your skin until they met your dress pants. Quickly unbuttoning and sliding them down your legs, Matt’s fingers were deft and skilled. You wondered what else he could do with those fingers.

The heat in your core grew brighter, impossible to ignore, as Matt made his way back up your legs. His fingers traced up your calves, then over your knees, then your thighs. Your breath caught as they came to your underwear.

One hand made its way up to your torso, pushing you back onto the bed, while the other slid your underwear down and off your legs.

“Please,” you rasped out, ready for whatever he had in store for you. Ever so slowly, you felt him spread your legs, and then, the heat of absolute pleasure as he dove in. His mouth felt so, so sweet as his tongue swirled around your clit before dipping inside of you. 

You moaned, legs involuntarily moving to clench together at the pleasure. Matt, hands rough, but gentle, caught your thighs and held them open as his mouth continued its assault on your core.

He alternated from your clit to dipping inside of you with his tongue, and soon, you were shaking in his grasp. With his right hand, Matt gripped the inside of your thigh tighter, and you felt yourself give way. The white-hot pleasure of your orgasm rolled through you, and you couldn’t keep the pornographic moan inside you.

“Yes, Matt,” you moaned, riding out your high as he continued his onslaught for a few more moments.

Matt pulled away, grinning like an idiot before standing. You opened your eyes and looked at him, blissed out. As your eyes rolled over him again, you could see the outline of his dick in his jeans. 

As quickly as you could in your wobbly state, you pushed yourself into the sitting position, placing more kisses on his chest, then his torso, all the way down to his Adonis belt. You spun him until it was his legs against the bed, before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them, along with his boxers, down.

You inhaled sharply, a shit-eating grin spreading over your face as you took in the sight of his beautiful, thick cock. You leaned forward, kissing the head.

Matt hummed as you licked a long stripe from the base to the tip. Then, as one hand roamed around his torso, the other ran over his length. You took him into your mouth, bobbing back and forth until he was groaning, one hand in your hair.

You felt him throb in your mouth and you pulled off of him with a pop.

Hand still in your hair, Matt pulled you up, locking lips and grabbing your ass. He moved his other hand from your hair down to your thigh and picked you up, turning, and laying you down onto the bed.

Wasting no time, Matt knelt in between your legs before frowning.

“Shit,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” You began to panic.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

You chuckled, relieved.

“I am as clean as they come, Counselor, and I’m on the pill. So, as long as you’re clean, we have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank God,” he said before leaning down to kiss you again. He held himself up with one arm as he lined himself up with your entrance. Gently, he thrust forward, sinking into you.

You gasped as he groaned. Your eyes rolled back as you relished the feeling of being filled. You wrapped your legs around his back and placed a hand in his hair, tightening your grip when he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

“Fuck is right,” Matt smiled.

“Why don’t you put all those muscles to work and fuck me hard, Counselor?” You never knew your voice could sound like that, but the way his cock twitched inside you, you knew you’d use it more often.

Matt pulled out until only the tip was inside you. Then, he slammed back in. He set an unrelenting pace, pulling out and pounding back into you until you couldn’t remember your own name. Your free hand gripped the comforter.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted as Matt ruined every other man for you. He moved his free hand down to your clit, rubbing in time with his strokes until you felt yourself on the edge again. 

“Come for me,” he said, bringing his forehead down to yours, “it’s such a sweet sound.”

And come for him, you did. Once, twice, three times.

By the time Matt came, you were covered in a sheen of sweat, hair falling out of your once-neat ponytail. Your fingernails were digging into his back, searching for something to ground yourself with as Matt thrust into you one last time, coming deep in you.

You laid there, head on Matt’s chest, finger tracing all of his scars. His arm was around you, and you felt warmer, happier than you had felt in a long time.

And the plea deal? It could wait until the next day at the office.

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

Part 2 - Dance with Me

Description:

The war is bloody, that’s so surprise, and you were in the middle of it all. One brash interaction later, you found yourself intertwined with an interesting group, joining them in their antics from their thievery to the taverns.

———————————

Warnings: swearing, drinking, harassment, guns and blood, Lafayette dancing poorly (at first)

———————————

Notes:

> Continuation of the first part that you can read here

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> This part happens in between “Right Hand Man” and “Winter’s Ball”

> omg i did not expect people to actually like this!! Tagging @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @cutie1365 and @girlmadeofivory since they were looking for a part 2

———————————

“LET'S RAISE A GLASS!”

“TO THE REVOLUTION!”

You held no shame as you cheered alongside your group, raising your mug with the rest. You chugged down half of your mug's content before letting out a heavy sigh. Your face was flushed, as you've had so many rounds that you never really counted anymore after getting past three. All you knew was that your friends were on the same page as you, and that you pitied every lady in America because damn they are missing out on this. "Now seeing you down that with a straight face made me like you a lot more, F/N," Lafayette said jokingly. You giggled uncontrollably, dropping the mug on the table with a loud thud.

"Why thank you." You flipped your tied hair for dramatic effect.

Your confidence was taken positively by the table. As promised, you guys celebrated for a job well done in stealing the cannons, but it was held back for some time until work didn’t demand so much for the time being. Not only that, it became a double celebration since Alexander was promoted as George Washington’s secretary, or rather Alexander preferred, his right hand man. “So, Hamilton, how does it feel being General Washington’s right hand man?” you asked. Admittedly, you haven’t had much time with the four people as you did since the cannon raid, only seeing much of Alexander nearby Washington, so you wanted to make the most out of the time with them.

Alexander’s face soured, earning a hearty laugh from you and the others. “Come on, your writing’s impeccable, you should be proud the General chose you,” John pointed out. He slung an arm over Alexander for comfort, but he leaned a little too far from his seat and ended up toppling down to the floor. This caused another round of laughter, with Hercules repeatedly slamming his hand on the table and you facepalming at what happened. “Mon dieu, John. You are drunk as fuck,” Lafayette slurred in fake exasperation, looking down at his fallen friend.

“I’m sure everyone is.”

“But not drunk enough, eh?”

You nudged at Hercules, wiggling your eyebrows. “You calling for another round?” Hercules guessed, though the smirk on his face showed that he already knew the answer. “Hell yeah!” You growled excitedly before gulping down the rest of your drink. Hercules called for a refill for the table, and once everyone got their mugs full again the rowdiness resumed.

The tavern was full that night, but that didn’t stop you from noticing something off a few tables away. You saw a pair of girls enjoying their time drinking like everyone else, but they were being eyed by the group of men, three from your peripherals, right across them. You would’ve brushed it off as guys simply scouting them, but the lingering wolfish gazes and intent grins weren’t at all nice to see.

“See something you like, F/N?”

You brought your attention back to the table and saw all four guys staring at you, all eyebrows raised and knowing grins plastered to their faces. You scoffed, bringing your mug to your lips. “I’m good, thanks,” you declined. “Nothing here catches my interest.” You closed your eyes and drank as you heard your friends give a long gasp of amusement.

“But do you plan to look for someone in the ball?”

Ah, you almost forgot. A ball was happening in a few weeks, and Washington insisted to have the officers attend. You were just a Private, but Alexander convinced to get you an invite, too. Your eyes met John’s, and for a moment it seemed like there was something else that spoke in his gaze that you couldn’t quite comprehend. “Maybe I am, or maybe I’ll just be there,” you answered thoughtfully, taking a sip. “Or maybe I won’t be.” You heard everyone groan, making you snicker quietly.

“I swear, you’re just as bad as Burr.”

“Hey, I am vocal with my stances, thank you very much.”

“And what’s your stand?”

You stood up, stomping your foot on your seat. “Fuck the King!” you roared, raising your drink. Your friends echoed your declaration, which was followed by approving cheers, howls, and raised glasses. You grinned toothily as you took a gulp. Lafayette, being the other standing person, bumped at your chest approvingly.

You sat back down, sighing. “But seriously, I don’t know if I should attend the ball.” Lies. You were sure to go, the only conflict was as who you were going to go. As a woman, it’s still the unfortunate duty of yours to find a wealthy man to marry for your family’s sake, and how else can you find a rich guy to woo other than showing up prim and proper and in a dress at a ball? Another part of you wanted to go as a soldier, wondering to see how the people saw you at the ball, and mostly to drink as much as you wanted with no shame.

“Really, you should go, F/N. It’d be disappointing not to see Lafayette trip over himself in the dance floor.”

Both you and Alexander glanced at John in interest while Lafayette gave the freckled guy a pointed look. “Lafayette? An aristocrat? And he can’t dance?” Alexander interrogated, and John nodded at each question teasingly with closed eyes. Hercules was chuckling beside you. “S'il vous plaît, that one instance was an accident!” Lafayette exclaimed. You leaned to Alexander a bit. “Was he swearing?” you whispered.

“No, he said ‘please’. You don’t know French?”

“Nah, man. At least, not enough.”

“Laurens, do tell us about that one instance.”

John was more than ready to oblige to Alexander’s request, but Lafayette jumped in, quite literally, to shush him up. “Woah!” you interjected, grabbing the drinks on the table just before the flustered Frenchman could knock it off from his path. Hercules had done the same, and just like you there were a few spills that landed on his shirt and pants.

“What the fuck, Laf?!” John groaned, more annoyed than entertained with the reaction.

You diverted your attention momentarily from the chaos to the women you were keeping watch earlier. They were fine, though the men still weren’t taking their eyes off of them, much to your distaste. You looked back and saw Hercules and Alexander laughing their asses off. “You know if you’re that embarrassed with your dancing I can guide you. I’ll be the girl,” you offered casually, and the mood was cut short.

"What?" they all muttered.

"What?" you echoed with equal confusion.

Then your drunk mind realized it. You were still a guy in their eyes, so you had to make something up. “I've been with more than enough ladies to understand their side of the dance,” you purred, making sure that they caught your boasting tone. "Ahh, so Alexander's not the only tomcat in this group, I see," Laurens mused, sending you a devilish smirk. You played along and grinned smugly in return. “What can I say? Ladies just can’t resist the pretty boy,” you bragged, briefly running a thumb on your nose.

“You sure about this, F/N?” Hercules warned jokingly. “We weren’t kidding about Lafayette being bad at dancing.”

“How bad could it be?”

Hercules rolled his eyes and leaned back on his seat. “Your funeral.” You stood up, placing the drinks down before pulling Lafayette off the table. “Alright, c’mere you poor thing,” you grunted. You put your hands up and beckoned Lafayette to come to you. The man complied, though evidently embarrassed, as he took your right hand and placed his other on your waist. You put your left hand on his shoulder, reminiscing the years you were taught to dance.

“Okay, let’s take a step-”

It was just the first step and he already failed. You yelped the second Lafayette stepped on both your feet, Lafayette mirroring your expression when you unintentionally dug your nails into his hand and shoulder in response to his accident. Alexander, Hercules, and John broke into fits of laughter as you looked at them with disbelieving eyes. Maybe you were starting to regret this.

“Excuse me a second.”

You grabbed one of the shotglasses and downed up the hard drink before returning to Lafayette. “If you’re going to charm the ladies, that is definitely not it,” you quipped. “I’m going to teach you how to dance properly, even if it kills my toes. Now get back here.” You returned to your previous position, and Lafayette seemed even more hesitant to proceed.

Though you insisted, and continued with the practice. No one gave any judging eyes, seeing that the everyone was too drunk out of their minds to care at all to see two men practicing a ball dance in the middle of the tavern. A few hours, a couple more drinks, and countless missteps later, you could barely hold your proud smile when Lafayette managed to step in sync with you without hitting your feet for the next few minutes. Your friends cheered for him, and Lafayette’s grin widened as his confidence rose.

You two glided across the room a bit more, and you were inevitably enjoying it. You looked up to Lafayette, who was focused on the floor to make sure he was getting it right. “You should practice not looking down when dancing,” you suggested, Lafayette looked up to you, hesitancy in his eyes, before returning his eyes back down. He’d been unusually silent the whole time, in contrast to his normally boisterous drunken self. “Don’t worry, you got it now. Eyes on me,” you instructed. You moved your hand from his shoulder to under his chin and gently lifted his head despite his stiffness, feeling the prickling sensation of his unkept stubble. You figured it was just his nervousness to step on you again for the nth time that’s making him tense.

“Relax, Lafayette.”

There was reluctance, but Lafayette complied anyways and kept his eyes on yours, feeling his shoulders droop a little. You hummed the counting, your steps in sync. After finishing a routine without any mistakes, you broke to a congratulating grin. “You got the hang of it!” you cheered quietly. Though, Lafayette’s expression was contrast to yours. He had his lips drawn to a flat line as confusion stirred in his eyes. You cocked your head at him, your smile turning into a frown as he pulled away and walked back to the table. “Lafayette?” you called quietly, unsure why your friend looked uncomfortable.

“So, comment ai-je fait?”

The second Lafayette faced the three, he pulled up a grin. You followed him, your worried look lingering to him as you sat down. “If you can do it drunk, you can do it sober,” John praised, pushing a mug across the table to Lafayette, who caught it with ease. You picked up your own cup, forcing your eyes away from the now bright mood your friend held. You glanced at the girls again, and you saw that they were standing up to leave. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the men shuffling readily, and it wasn’t a good sign.

You leaned forward the table before you could raise any suspicions. “I have to say, Lafayette’s a fast learner,” you complimented, smirking as you brought your mug to your lips. You gave the said man a once over, but your attention was really at the two women that passed your table. “That makes me the savior of putting his tripping days to its end.” Your humor evoked approving laughs, but Lafayette merely rolled his eyes in response. Though, he had the corners of his mouth pulled up regardless. You sent a lopsided grin of your own, your eyes snapping momentarily to the four men that hastily brushed past the table, one even accidentally hitting your chair.

You fell silent for a few seconds before you pushed yourself up. “I’ll be back shortly,” you announced. You took your coat resting on the back of your seat and put it on, checking if your holstered gun was hidden from plain sight. You didn’t wait for a response and headed out of the tavern, the cold wind immediately biting your warm skin. You looked around the empty streets, wondering where the men had disappeared to so quickly. You contemplated on which direction to go first, but the fleeting shadow from the side answered the question for you.

You walked as steadily as you could, a hand over your covered pistol for assurance that it was there. You peered over the alleyway that led to the back of the pub, and there you saw what you were looking for. The two women, gripping to each other for dear life as they backed against the wall of the other building, while the four men stumbled closer to them. The sight disgusted you, and you weren’t going to stand around for another second.

“Hey! Leave them alone!” you growled.

The men looked over to you as you marched forward. “Fuck off, kid. This isn’t your fun,” one of the men spat. You narrowed your eyes at them, discreetly tucking a hand under your coat. You kept your posture straight, fighting back every ounce of nervousness in your system as you walked even closer. “Let these women be before anything bad happens here,” you warned, your voice bordering to a threatening growl. “I’m not fucking around.”

“Oho, strong words from a pipsqueak like you.”

Two of the men were about to approach you, but you weren’t taking any chances. You drew out your pistol, eliciting a yelp from the women and surprised gasps from the men. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” you asked in a mocking tone. You moved your head to the women, who were staring at you with terrified eyes. You smiled warmly before nodding to the street, motioning them to leave. They sent you a brief look of relief before they rushed out, and you aimed the gun at the man who tried to take a hold on one of the woman’s wrist. As soon as the girls disappeared from your sight, your face hardened again. “I’ll remember your faces,” you snarled, observing the men’s faces.

“The next time I find any of you harassing a lady, I will shoot,” you threatened. "And you will not like where I'll be aiming."

You paid no attention to their fuming faces as you turned to your heels and went back inside. You tucked your gun back into the holster, pulling a smile once you returned to the table. “Where’d you disappear to?” Alexander was the first to question as soon as you sat back down. “Just some business,” you answered coyly, though the proud smirk in your face showed that you were proud of the “business” you attended to. You were about to take a sip of your drink when-

Wham!

You didn’t even have enough time to process what happened. The next thing you knew, your teeth hit harshly on the rim of your mug before your entire face made contact with the hardwood table, feeling the splinters sink into your cheeks. “What the fuck, dude?!” Hercules yelled, shooting up from his seat. It would seem that the other three were close to following suit. You groaned as you sat up, wiping the spilled beer off your face. You could feel a warmer liquid just below your nose, and you didn’t need to think for another second to figure it out. You could hear John say something, but it was drowned out by Hercules’ bickering towards the culprits.

“Let them be, Herc,” you coughed.

Despite your dazed vision, you managed to grab Hercules by his sleeve and urged him to sit back down. “They’re not worth the time.” Hercules resisted for a moment, but he complied anyways. He sent the four jeering men a heated glare before he sat down. You ran your tongue across your teeth, silently thanking that it didn’t chip. You could hear a pair of feet shuffling close to you, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You looked up and saw a waitress handing you a dampened hand towel. You muttered a thanks as you accepted the cloth. You pressed the towel to your nose and lips, wincing in pain while you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Are you okay, F/N?”

You pried an eye open and saw everyone looking at you worriedly. “Just dandy,” you huffed, but there was an unintended sarcasm that betrayed your assurance. “Are there splinters on my face?” you asked, lowering the towel a bit as you put your face out. “Let me see.” Alexander scooted closer, examining for any stray wood pieces. Once he saw a splinter, he plucked it off with ease. After another round of observing, it seemed that all the pieces were removed, so he leaned back. You exhaled in relief.

“I think that’s all of it.”

“Thanks, Hamilton.”

“Now, are you going to explain why that just happened?” Lafayette spoke up, crossing his arms.

“Does this have something to do with your ‘business’?” Alexander followed, air quoting the word “business”.

You sighed and nodded, putting the towel back to your nose. “Those guys were stalking some women earlier, so when I caught them harassing the girls outside I told them to fuck off,” you confessed tiredly. John was the first to react, shooting up and ready to make his way to the group that passed earlier. “Don’t,” you hissed, not wanting any more trouble than there already was. You looked at Alexander hoping that he’d stop John, but alas he looked encouraging more than anything.

“Guys, don’t. I’m serious. They’re just pissed that I cockblocked them.”

You gurgled the rest of the beer left in your cup after the spill, washing away the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Forget about them, let’s just enjoy the rest of the night,” you insisted. Though it took a little while for the tension to lift off your and your friends’ shoulders, everyone managed to push the incident out of their minds and return to the joyous mood earlier.

An hour before the tavern closed, the group figured it was a good time to make their leave. They paid for their drinks and hobbled out, arms slung over one another as they laughed and sang mindlessly. “Guyyys, help, I don’t speak French!” you cried out exaggeratedly, but you were only responded by slurred chuckles. Somehow you broke into two groups, with John and Alexander leaning on one another up ahead while you were squished in between Hercules and Lafayette. As much fun as you had with the guys, the winter chill was something you wouldn’t want to stay out for.

“This is my way.”

Hercules moved away, and you whined quietly, one due to the loss of warmth on your side, and another with the lack of support to keep Lafayette up. Alexander stared at John for a bit, reluctant to let go, but he had to since he was under Hercules’ roof until he could find a place to stay. “It’s fine, Alexander! You’re clinging onto Laurens like it’s the last time you’ll see him,” you called out, laughing as you stumbled a bit, and your teasing was somehow enough for Alexander to finally pull away.

“G’night, boys.”

You, John, and Lafayette waved the two farewell before trudging along the streets. “Where’s your place, F/N?” John asked, hopping back to join you and Lafayette. “Hmmmmm, some distance away,” you hummed. You knew that going to your real home was a bad idea since you basically ran off, but there was no relative you could go to without being snitched on (fucking Loyalists), either. Ever since you left, you’ve been staying in the camp. It wasn’t much, but shelter was shelter. You knew a place, but you doubted that you’d get there unscathed, especially at this hour of the night.

“Really?” John pressed.

“Yeah.”

After a while it was John’s turn to head home. He stopped at the corner heading to his place, turning to face you and Lafayette. “F/N, before I could forget,” he suddenly said. You quirked a brow as John shuffled toward you, pulling out a white piece of cloth. “I cleaned it, don’t worry,” he assured. You recognized it as your handkerchief, which you completely forgot that you left with him. You snatched it from him, worry bubbling in your chest.

“Ah, I see it’s really important to you,” John breathed.

Lafayette stared curiously as you grazed your fingers over the flower decoration at the corner of the cloth. “So, Y/N, huh?” John spoke up inquisitively. You snapped your head up, eyes wide as you clutched the handkerchief to your chest. “Gonna tell us about your girl anytime soon?” he probed, his eyes glittering with interest. You relaxed a bit, but not entirely, seeing that his assumption was far from the truth.

“Is this why you were dodging our question about the ball?” Lafayette piped in.

“Maybe.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes at you. You figured enough that he had a pet peeve for vague responses, as did everyone else. You snickered, tucking the handkerchief in your coat. “Hey, answer my question!” John exclaimed. “I’m gonna head inside in a bit.” You smiled bashfully, closing your eyes and thought of what to say. Despite your hazy conscience, you found the will to restrain yourself from talking about you.

“Sure, some other time,” you answered quietly. “When things aren’t so complicated right now.”

Despite himself, John bade farewell and went home. It was left with you and Lafayette walking side to side. “I’ll head here now,” you spoke up, pointing to the alleyway heading to the other street. You waved Lafayette goodbye before shoving your freezing hands into your coat pocket. The best place for you to crash in for the night was at an inn, and you knew a cheap one not too far off. You were glad enough to know some place you could afford.

After checking in and locking yourself into the room, you undid the corset that had been binding your chest the whole day. You gasped in relief, plopping down on the bed. Your nose had been numbed to the scent, but you knew that you reeked of alcohol, especially with how much liquor spilled onto you after your head was banged on the table. You figured a bath would be nice, and washing your clothes while you’re at it since it was all that your had at the moment.

After the wash, you threw yourself back into the bed. The ball, you thought. Goodness, what were you going to do? You were torn with how you were going to attend, and if the choices were going to keep driving you mad then might as well not go altogether. Yet, the bigger part of you wanted to go, to see those men you call your friends. Alexander, John, Hercules, and Lafayette; they were the most fun you had, and you wouldn’t want to miss a grand moment with them, in the battlefield or in life. You refused to let that kind of feeling go.

You sighed, gently burying your face in the pillow. You could feel the ache of the side of your head that hit the table, which was just above your eyebrow, but you paid no mind to it. The alcohol was making you drowsy, and you were more than willing to comply. As you drifted off to sleep, the same worries as earlier lingered in your mind.

A soldier? Or a woman?

[iguessilovebakugou]

I Wouldn’t Mind ||  Happier Pt 2 ||  Requested by you lovelies!!

//  Not sure why so many people wanted a part two of this but...I guess we’re going for it, boys.

Someone mentioned an idea that I kind of just fell in love with over time sooooooo.....Just so everyone knows this was heavily inspired by a few songs.

First was Satisfied from Hamilton.  Second - and what finally broke me down into allowing this to become what it is because I was very much against it -  was I Wouldn’t Mind by He is We.  Third is I Found by Amber Run.

Part 1 ||  Part 3!

“Hey.  This is Hitoshi Shinsou.  Leave me a message and I’ll-”

It was beginning to worry you.  15 calls over the past week, plenty of text messages.  And yet he still ignored you.  Was he really that pissed off about you running out to go try and help Bakugou?  He did talk to you after, visiting you in the hospital with some movies for you to watch so you didn’t “die of boredom”.  He looked worse for wear, decidedly so and left not too long after that.  He didn’t seem...angry - and he decidedly wasn’t the type to just simply up and ghost you.  Shinsou wasn’t that petty...

Was he?

This was too stressful.  Simply put, you had just straightened out one issue; the last thing you wanted was to jump head first into another one that seemed just as strenuous and just as thought consuming.  You groaned and tossed your phone onto the cushion beside you, relenting and slouching further against the back of the couch.  You crossed your ankles on the coffee table and your arms against your chest, closed your eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

You didn’t want to over think this one.  If Shinsou wanted to be a jerk and ignore you because you wanted to help someone you cared about Bakugou, then fine.  Be petty.  Be salty.  Be the god damn Dead Sea for all you cared.  It’s not like you did anything wrong.  He was the one trying to use his quirk to stop you - which was also against school rules if anyone needs to be reminded.  So it’s not like both of you didn’t break rules to try and protect someone else!!  And he wanted to be scrunchy because of that??  

You didn’t want to feel guilty.  You shouldn’t feel guilty!  You had every right to be upset that you were being ghosted, stood up, ditched!!  If something as simple as you trying to explore your feelings was enough to drop you like a bag of rocks, should Shinsou really be considered a friend?  If he didn’t want you to be involved with Bakugou not that you were, that situation was developing, he shouldn’t have told you.  He shouldn’t have brought it up.  He should have left it buried in the dirt.  But he didn’t!  He told you!  He was the one who brought it up and started the avalanche that had been the past few months.  So why is he upset with you?  Should you be beating yourself up over it?  ...not like you were, it’s fine everything was fine.  You were fine.  He was fine, you were fine, everything was fine.

Everything was fine...

Everything was definitly not fine.

Your shoes slammed against the freshly paved sidewalks, trying to find the dorm for General Studies First Years.  Your chest was starting to hurt, your mind racing with all the possibilities of where you screwed up in the relationship.  It was hard to see the numbers in the moonlight, and the street lamps did nothing but cast shadows upon the large houses.  Perfectly groomed bushes rose up and curled against the houses, adding even more darkness to an already hindering state.  But still, you had to try.  You had to find the building so you could just figure out what the hell was going on.  You could talk to Shinsou, he would laugh, you would laugh, and then you’d try not to cry because you were stronger than that.

You know you needed to relax, to keep calm and play it off like you were simply in the neighborhood.  But you were panicking - you didn’t want Shinsou upset with you.  You didn’t want one of the best friendships you’ve ever had sucked down the drain and not know exactly what it was you did wrong.  You wanted to get everything straightened out, fixed and moved on your way.  You didn’t want to go through anything else without your best friend by your side...

There was only one building that seemed familiar by the layout Momo showed you.  While all the buildings were identical, it’s placement and the flowers were what set it apart.  Red, purple, and orange mums had been planted for the fall season, a few pumpkins placed on the steps where the tea lights buried inside were dimming or long since snuffed out.  You could still smell the melted wax and burned wick in the air as you made your way up to the front door.

...and you stopped.  The entire run over, through all the panting and desperation to get here, you realized that you had no earthly idea what to say to him.  How were you going to explain your panic, your worry, that something was wrong when you held no evidence that something was even amiss?  Nothing besides your gut which - let’s be honest - hasn’t really been working in your favor recently.  You considered for a moment simply turning around and leaving; walking back down those steps and making your way back to your dorm before anyone noticed you were missing.

Your spine stiffened when the door clicked open, pulling away from the frame so a girl about your age could look out at you.  The two of you stared at each other, she eyes your jeans, sweatshirt, and just how heavy you were breathing.  You were trying to place her face among the sea of other students you passed in the halls daily - sadly, she wasn’t ringing a bell.  Though judging by how hard her brow furrowed, you could tell instantly she knew you - and probably didn’t care too much for you.

...was Shinsou talking about you to his classmates?  Was he that mad at you?  ...no, they...they didn’t really talk to him.  Most were afraid of him because of his quirk, which is why he had been sitting alone at lunch.  And while things had gotten better since the Sports Festival...

“What do you want?”  Her bark snapped you out of your thoughts.  

It took you a moment to respond to her overall prickly disposition.  You didn’t want to linger in her presence for longer than you had to.  “Uh,”  You started, before kicking yourself hard in the ass.  “Is...Is Shinsou in?”

This question seemed to surprise her, the anger slipping away if only for a moment.  “He doesn’t want to see you.”

...he didn’t want to see you?  What?  Why?  What was wrong?  “Look, could you just tell him that-”

“I don’t care who you are.”  God, she was like a tiny little chihuahua, huddled behind the door for safety yet still snarling her heart out.  “Your class has brought us enough trouble, so just leave us alone.”

...excuse you?  The hell did you ever do to her?  The hell did your class ever do to her?

You only had a second to collect your nerve as she prepared to slam the door in your face.  She really didn’t like you.  You shoved your arm through the door, keeping her from shutting it fully.  For extra measure, you even slid your foot inside.  “Look, I’m not here to start anything!  I just want to talk to Shinsou!  It’s-”

“Get out before I call the teachers!!”

“Could you just tell him to call me!?  Please, it’s really important and-”

You heard a familiar voice calling your name.  And that was it.  You can’t remember if you did answer.  But you figured you must have since when you woke up you were laying in the mums just outside.  Purple eyes stared down at you and soon, the large messy hues separated to form Shinsou’s face.  He looked like crap:  He had a few scratches and scrapes but mostly ugly green and purple bruising forming on his knuckles and arms - something you didn’t see often on him.  He watched you for a moment before asking simply, “Why are you being so loud?  It’s late.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes and pulling your feet up, ready to push yourself onto them after you got your senses settled.  And after your ears stopped ringing. “Really.”

“What?”

“That’s really what you’re going to say to me right now?”  You glared at him, dropping your hands on your stomach.  

“I wouldn’t have to say it if you weren’t screaming and trying to break in like a lunatic.”  He let out a groan, settling back on his butt in the damp grass.  “Shouldn’t you be resting anyway?  You passed your Provisionals, right?  You should be celebrating with a well-deserved rest.”

“Yeah, well...”  Fuck, your head was pounding.  Was it normal for his quirk to hurt like this after being used?  “I would be able to sleep if you would answer your damn phone every once in a while.”

“I’ve been busy.”

You really wish he hadn’t said that.  You really wish he hadn’t been honest.  You really wish that he didn’t come downstairs and do whatever it was he did.  “Fuck you Shinsou.”

He fell silent.  You...had never said that to him before.  At least not without some sort of laughter quickly following it.  He eyes you, watching your breathing pick up again.  You looked awful.  You had switched the cast on your arm out for tape, your cheeks were becoming gaunt from lack of eating, your eyes were bagged from lack of sleep.  Not to mention the newly formed cuts and knicks from the exams.  You were pushing yourself harder than he knew possible.  He swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head.  “Damn it.  You look like crap.”

“...”  You didn’t answer him, focusing your gaze on the stars above you.  You don’t know why your eyes were stinging, or why you were so mad...maybe it was because he had refused to answer you for days now.  Maybe it was because your entire left side felt like shit and your head was pounding.  Maybe...maybe it was because of how stupid you felt.  He had been busy and here you were, jumping at the gate like a damn puppy.  He had things to do.  Meanwhile, you were being urged to settle down or threatened to be expelled every time you and your class turned around.  It was a bad idea for him to keep you so close.  He had the right idea.

And yet...

“...I wish you would have answered me.”  You grumbled, smoothing your hair back.

“Like I said, I’ve been busy.”  His tone was softer now.

“Doing what?”

He watched you closely.  You couldn’t see him, but you could feel how strained that gaze was.  He didn’t want to tell you.  It was a secret.  Your best friend in the entire fucking world couldn’t tell you what he had been doing or why he had been avoiding you for weeks now.  Was he mad?  Was he sick of you?  Had he moved past you?  Or was it your fault?  Were you so focused on Bakugou that you had completely forgotten about him?  He looked different somehow.  Rougher and...did he gain some more mass?  Have you really been so wrapped up in yourself that you didn’t notice his changes?  Was that why he had stopped?  You couldn’t really blame him.  Some friend you were.

“It’s nothing.”  He finally said, his fingers rubbing the arms of his sweater.  “Just some extra stuff.”

“...why can’t you tell me?”  You asked him.  You two were friends.  He had your back through all the shit that you had been going through.  With school, with Bakugou, with life, with your...whatever the hell all this panic was.  He was there for you. And as pissed off as you were at him, fuck him if you weren’t going to be there.  You were going to be the best damn friend he could ever want.  From now on, it was all going to be him.  Whenever he needed it.  But what if he didn’t want you?  What if you were stepping on boundaries you shouldn’t be even looking at?

“I was told not to.”  Those bright eyes met your gaze, “But I will.  When I know it’s okay, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

“...Promise?”  You probably sounded pathetic, probably looked worse too.  Your nose was red and you couldn’t stop sniffling.  Your eyes were puffed and your breathing heavy and labored.  You were spiraling down, you needed to know that he didn’t hate you.  

Shinsou watched you, eyes widening for just a moment.  It clicked for him then that you weren’t just being dramatic or fishing for something.  This was a legit panic.  You had the terrible habit of wrapping yourself in your own ideas and turning them into reality.  And, in trying to do what he was told, he inadvertantly sent you rolling down the many little winding and jaggeding roads your mind had the bad habit of making.  Like he said, “personal, malfunctioning wrecking ball”.  He sighed, a smirk crossing his face.  “...I’m not dying,”  He reached out and poked your forehead.  Establish contact, let her know that you still want her there.  “It’s just some extracurricular stuff.  Nothing life-threatening.  But I’m under specific orders to not say anything.”

Extracurricular stuff?  What sort of Extracurricular stuff did the General Studies do that made it look like you went toe to toe with All Might and lose?  You blinked and pushed yourself up onto your elbows.  “Like...how soon will I be able to know?”

He shrugged, resting his arms on his knees.  “Don’t know.  Not my call.”

You duck your chin close to your chest, eyeing him.  With the way he was looking now, you didn’t like the thought of what these “extracurricular activities” meant.  But... “They’re going to help you become a hero?”  You ask.

“Yep.”

“...alright then.”  You reached up and wiped your nose, sniffing one more time....and coming away with blood.  You pursed your lips for a moment, studying the red against your skin.  “....Huh.”

“....Oh yeah,”  He perked up, “You tripped coming down the stairs.  You might want to not get up just yet.”

Well, that explained why you were on the ground.  And why the side of your face was in pain...and your ankle felt sore.  You relented, falling back against the grass.  “Yeah, probably a good idea...”

A moment of silence passes before you feel Shinsou shuffle and move next to you.  You move your arms, allowing him to comfortably lay down.  With a shift and a soft sigh, he reached out a hand which you happily took.  The two of you were in this together it seemed.  Still as thick as thieves.  As you lay there, on that damp grass, staring up at the stars you thought that maybe this is what peace felt like.  And after that, you smiled.  It had been exactly what you needed.  

“Hey, have you been working out?”  You ask.

“Noticed that did you?”  Shinsou replied.

“Noticed it?  You look like you could break a walnut between your forearm and bicep.”

You were his best friend.  And sometimes, it felt like you were his only friend.  

He listened to you ramble on to whatever songs were floating inside that brain of yours.  You were an oddity, never scared or fearful of his quirk.  The two of you could sit quietly on each other's beds, looking over your phones before finally noticing that it was growing late and it would still be a perfect night he wouldn’t trade for the world.  Your legs would be in his lap while you would play video games on the television in his room, and while he acted annoyed when you would put your foot in his face to cause him to lose, he was still happy.  Happy to have a friend who didn’t care that he could take over with a single word.  Happy that someone trusted him right out the gate instead of having to prove that he wasn’t some sort of villain.  Happy that you could see his potential when even he lost sight of it.

“You’re better than you think you are!  I know it and I’m never wrong about these sorts of things.”

“Did you see how many people were impressed by you?!  What do you mean it was all a failure?  You were amazing!!”

“You are your own worst critic.  You’re spectacular, the world is just taking a little bit longer to see it.”

You could annoy him, you could be completely silent, you could laugh just the right way, you could look at him and his heart would sputter.  Your eyes would sparkle so bright the stars were put to shame.  Your smile could light up everything around you.  Your hands would grab his and he knew - he just knew - that’s where they were meant to be.  He wanted to hold on just a moment longer.  Wanted just to tell you that no matter what, you made him feel...something.  

He wasn’t sure what that something was, but it was enough to make him try harder.  To push himself further.  And when he would look at you, when he would see you lose yourself in thought, watch you spin, watch you trip over your own words, his stomach would twist.  When your eyes would fall to your feet or your teeth would find your bottom lip, he wanted to be there.  When the world seemed so big, he wanted to protect you until it was just a bit smaller...

Before UA, Shinsou Hitoshi wanted to prove to the world that he could be a hero.  Now?  He just wanted to be your hero.

...so why the hell did he tell you about Bakugou?

Because you were his friend?  Because he didn’t want to believe that he liked you that way?  You were his first true friend and he didn’t want to lose that.  Not when everything was finally starting to look up.  Maybe in some sick way, he wanted to gauge your reaction.  Maybe he wanted to see if you would laugh or if you were somewhat interested.  Either option was terrible and lead to no resolution.  Either you laughed and that meant maybe somewhere down the road he could explore his feelings.  Or you liked Bakugou and he had to watch you think about, fall for, and love someone else.  Anyone but him.

...he should have just kept his damn mouth shut.

But your reaction - while entirely like you in hindsight - wasn’t expected.  You seemed...terrified.  He might as well have told you that Nezu himself was thinking of expelling you from school grounds.  His stomach twisted as he watched you try to brush it off and hide your red cheeks behind your hand.  He had to read your texts trying to explain it all away.  And as you sat on that park bench, Shinsou realized the three things he never wanted to know:

Firstly: You liked Bakugou.

Of course, you did.  Not like the guy didn’t have the personality of a pit viper, but...it made sense.  Both of you were determined.  Both of you took challenges head-on.  You both impressed at the Sports Festival.  He gave plenty of shit and you didn’t take any of it.  You were cool where Bakugou was a raging ball of hellfire.  What was it they said?  Opposites attract?  You balanced each other in ways that seemed almost cookie cutter romance.  If you had a novel written about you, high school girls and middle aged housewives alike would swoon and buy copies and analyze every portion of your relationship.

[Incoming Txt::]  Just got back to the dorms!  I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch!  And no ditching me this time!!

Secondly:  Shinsou absolutely hated it.  He hated the way you worried about him.  How you started to worry about your looks and how you worried about what he would think.  He hated how you would start to wrap yourself around him, trying to figure out what each little look or word meant.  It wouldn’t be no time at all that you started inviting him to join you out instead of him.  Soon, Shinsou would be forgotten, replaced.  Left alone.  You would love Bakugou...

[Outgoing Txt::]  Wouldn’t dream of it.

[Incoming Txt::]  I will hunt you down if you do

[Incoming Txt::]  so...I think something happened with Bakugou. =/  He’s just...sitting in the kitchen.  And he hasn’t moved

Thirdly:  He would do whatever it took to make you happy.  If you were happy, then so was Shinsou. You two were partners, you were his best friend and he would do anything for you.  And if that meant you and Bakugou get your happily ever after, then so be it.

[Outgoing Txt::]  You should talk to him.  Let him know you’re there for him.

[Incoming Txt::]  You think?

[Incoming Txt::] What should I say?

[Outgoing Txt::]  idk.  You’ll figure it out

[Incoming Txt::]  😂😂  You’re so helpful.

[Outgoing Txt::]  Go get him, tiger.

He knew he was hard to deal with...among other things.  He knew that he could be an asshole.  He knew that he rubbed people the wrong way.  He knew that he scared most he came across.  He knew all that.

Bakugou was hard to get along with.  On one hand, he was boastful, he was filled with pride and spite and cruelty.  He would kick someone down when they were at their lowest if only to prove that they had farther to fall.  It was hard to explain to anyone on the outside - but you were starting to believe the only reason he did this was to help people grow bigger, taller, stronger than they had originally believed them to be.  But on the other hand, he couldn’t stand being beaten.  If there was even the possibility that he wasn’t the best, wasn’t the greatest, wasn’t the strongest, fastest, smartest...

It was rare to catch him in moments of quiet.  When he only had himself to contend with.  When he only had the silence to question him - which was the worst possible contender.  The silence left you with nothing.  It asked you questions that you could only second guess as it gave you no leeway.  It gave no response.  

And you broke that silence.  You in all the ways he didn’t know existed, broke the heavy quiet for him.  In a million, sharp and jagged pieces.  It was infuriating and it was mind-numbing.  No matter what he did - push you away or try to drag you in - nothing seemed to work.  You were behind a wall, only appearing to shatter whatever defenses he put up while he couldn’t even dent yours.  It was infuriating, watching you galavant about and know that no matter what...

You’re not worth the trouble.  If she found out you weren’t as strong, imagine what she would think.  Damn it damn it damn it.  You can’t do to her what you did to All Might.  All Might wasn’t your fault.  You will never be good enough for her just give up now!!

“You know, I’m not a doctor, but I would probably say that if you continue gripping your hair like that you’re going to cause serious damage to the scalp.”

At first, he thought he was just imagining your voice.  Bakugou had ensured that the entire kitchen was clear before taking shelter among the stainless and cool steeled appliances.  But as he looked up, there you were.  Your sweatshirt was damp, your head cocked to the side, and your smile doing little to mask the concern on your face.  You did that though - smiled through the worst of things.  

“Shut the hell up.”  He snapped, running his hand down over his face to rub the bandaged and sore cheek.

“Though, by the looks of you, I would say someone else did a rather good job at it already.”  You didn’t falter under his glare.  Instead, you pulled out the chair opposite him.  “Let me guess:  Deku looks worse?”

...of course, you knew.  And tomorrow morning, the rest of those damn nerds would know too.  Which was fucking fantastic, exactly what he needed right now.  Still, at least you weren’t saying anything more about it, keeping what little you did or didn’t know to yourself.  You must have heard them when they were walking in.  Though it did little to explain the state you were in, Bakugou didn’t feel like asking what exactly you had heard.  He closed his eyes tightly.  “What the hell do you want?”

You didn’t answer.  You instead watched him with soft eyes, lips thinning for a moment.  The quiet settled over him once again, and this time, it didn’t seem like you could do much to stop it.  It was like a heavy winter storm, rolling in and covering everything in ice.  It wasn’t like you could ever understand.  How would you know how it feels?  He had worked so hard to get to UA:  Trained until his fingers bled, studied until he got sick from exhaustion, prepped and prepared until he knew every answer to every test that UA could throw at him.  And yet, he hadn’t been enough.  Deku - hell, everyone in the class - was rushing past him, leaving him behind and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.  And while that wasn’t his fault, he was left figuring out how to overcome it.  He would have to train harder.  Start with retaking the provisionals, then a harder training regimen.  Maybe more studying and-

“Honey or lemon?”

The anxious music skipped to a halt with the sound of a chair sliding back.  Bakugou opened his eyes and focused on you, catching as your stood and pushed yourself up.  You didn’t look at him, making your way to the cabinets and starting on getting out two teacups.  You were...making him tea.  He was suddenly hit with the night you all moved into these dorms.  How you had been lost in your own thoughts and...

Huh...

“Depends on the type of tea.”

“Well,”  You put the pot on to boil, turning with a smile as you slid over to the tea cabinet. “I’m in the mood for a relaxing green tea.  So...honey or lemon.”

Were you trying to help him?  His eyes followed you as you flipped open the box lid, pulling out two tea bags.  Why the fuck did you think he needed any help?  You - of all people - should know he could absolutely handle himself.  He could figure out his own shit.  If anything, he should the one that’s strong for you.

Still...some tea sounded nice.

“...both.”

You paused for a moment and even though he couldn’t see your face, he knew could just tell that you were smiling.  You don’t miss another beat, instead giving a soft nod as you made for the fridge.  “Both it is.”

You shut the stove off before the whistle, just to ensure you didn’t wake anyone else up.  Neither of you spoke as you worked and if you noticed him watching you, you didn’t say anything.  He had a thousand different thoughts and things floating around in his head but nothing made sense.  Words that seemed out of place, emotions that didn’t have a home.  And the most pressing of it wasn’t even about you - which would be a reprieve it it wasn’t replaced with the overwhelming guilt that still found it’s way buried in his gut.  He almost wanted to be panicking over you, if only for a moment of semi peace.  

Just when everything was starting to look up.

“I know you don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff...”  The sound of your voice startles him, causing him to come up from drowning for just a moment.  “But,”  You continue with a smile.  “I’d like to listen.”

You’d like to listen?  The fuck kind of thing to say?  Why would he tell you anything?  What good would it do him?  Bakugou had been fighting on his own for so long - pushing himself, pulling himself up, throwing himself in the face of danger.  The attack on the U.S.J, the sport festival, the attack on the camp.  It was always him - just him.  No one else.  He could figure this shit out on his own and he didn’t need you to help him with it.  

“I don’t need any of your fucking pity,”  He snarled sipping on the drink.  He winced at the bitterness of the lemon.  What did you do?  Squeeze the entire thing in? Fuck, you couldn’t even make a decent cup of tea, how could you expect to help him with anything.

“Should I be pitying you?”  You asked.

“...”  He blinked and looked up at you.  Did you...  “No, what did I just-”

“So then you’re alright?”

...what on earth?  What the hell kind of questioning was this?  “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m fucking sure!!  Why would I say I was when I fucking wasn’t and even so-”

“Then why does it look like you’ve been crying?”

A large block of eyes slammed down into his stomach and sent it down towards his feet.  He had been sure his eyes were dry, the puffing around his cheeks and the redness of his nose and cheeks had gone down.  There shouldn’t be any evidence left over about what happened in the testing grounds.  Those bright red eyes searched your face, trying to piece together how exactly you knew that he had broken down.  All he could come up with was the shame growing ever steady.  He adverted his gaze.  “It’s none of your business.”  No need to deny it.  You already knew.

He couldn’t tell you.  He couldn’t let you in on the secret between Deku and All Might.  He made a promise and he couldn’t break that promise...

Not even you.

But you got the hint.  Instead, you reached out.  Slow at first...stopping only once before resting your hand down on his.  “Bakugou...”  You softly called out his name, to get his attention.  “You don’t have to tell me everything...or anything...but you’re not alone in this.”  You gave him a soft smile.  It was...amazingly warm.  It caused the air in his lungs to catch and his heart to jump.  “Okay?”

“...”  Of course he wasn’t alone in this.  He had his classmates, his mom and dad...you.  This was just class mates looking out for each other, just friends being friends, right?  He swallowed the hope, nodding slowly.  “Yeah.”

But that didn’t seem to suffice.  “No, Bakugou.  You’re not alone, okay?  It’s okay.”

What had he said wrong?  What did he say that didn’t sound right?  What did he fuck up now?  “Yeah.  I got it.”  He pushed back against you, eyes narrowing.

“No.”  You stood up, refusing to break your gaze or your hold on his hand.  “Bakugou, listen to me.  You are not alone.”

How could you even say that?  How could you assume that you could shove yourself into his life and make everything better?  What gave you that fucking right!?  And why the hell was he allowing it!  He had to be the strongest, the best, the greatest there ever was - and he had to do it on his own.  If he relied on anyone else, they could realize.  They could figure it out.  They would see it for what it was.  “Don’t.”  His teeth clenched, and those red eyes met yours.  The redness was getting worse now, a gloss of tears causing them to flash under the glow of the florescent lights.  “Don’t say that to me.  You don’t know.”

“You’re not alone.”  You said again, lower now.  It made it worse.  He didn’t deserve the soft tone, he deserved to be spoken to like he speaks to others.  He deserved the rage and he deserved someone to yell and scream and hate him as much as he did.  

“Fuck you!!”  He reacted in the only way he knew how.  If he lashed out, then you would have no choice but to leave.  You would have no choice but to hate him.  He was trying to stop everything that was going wrong.  He was trying to stop it, stop everything to just make you understand.  He slammed his hands against your shoulders, pushing you back and away from him.  You stumbled, only a little, catching yourself against the table.  His glare hardened on you, trying to find a way to get it through your thick head.  Why wouldn’t you understand???  “Fuck you, alright!?  You don’t know!  It’s all my fucking fault!!  Nothing can change that!!  Nothing you can say will ever make it better!!”

Bakugou’s voice became thick with tears.  His heart was hammering against his chest, making it harder and harder to breath with each passing second.  His eyes shut tightly, trying to get everything under control.  He didn’t want to break in front of anyone, least of all you.  You didn’t deserve any of this and yet you were the only one he could... you were the only one he wanted to...  His entire body was shaking when you made your next move.  Whether it was your soft chanting that did it, or the equally soft touch of your fingers against his cheek, he wasn’t sure what exactly triggered the down fall.  But there you were.  Your hand found his shoulder, bending to try and get him to look at you.  “It’s not your fault, Bakugou.  Okay?  It’s not your fault.”

“...but...”  He tried, weak now.  He was tired.  So tired.  

“It’s not your fault.”

He didn’t want to fight anymore.  He couldn’t fight anymore.

“It’s not your fault.”

He was so thankful for your gentle touch.  So thankful for how soft you were speaking.  

“It’s not your fault.”

Bakugou covered his face with his hands, burying it in the darkness...and let out a terrible sob.  The past few months - no, the past few years, came barreling out.  He let out another sob, then another, and then he lost count.  “I’m sorry!!”  He tried.  “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He could smell your perfume through his only defense, could feel the warmth of your arms as they wrapped around him and bought him close.  You were holding him and before he knew it, he was gripping onto you for dear fucking life.  He buried his face between your neck and your shoulder.  He could feel his tears falling from his face and staining your sweatshirt, making it more damp than it was when you first walked into the kitchen.  His fingers gripped the fabric, pulling you tight up against him.  And you didn’t push him away.  If only the kids at Aldera could see him now.  The great and powerful Bakugou, sobbing against the girl he liked because he couldn’t handle it anymore.

...God, Bakugou was so thankful for you.

You held him for an hour, letting him cry for however long he needed.  It didn’t make everything better...

But in the moment, it was enough.

So I totally plan on there being a part 3 to this.  Mostly because I want to explore them exploring their relationship and also Shinsou’s feelings for the reader.

Again, I’m sorry this took so long.  I wanted it to be the perfect blend of perfect and messed up because I wanted to show that Bakugou is going through some shit.  And I hate that the Manga or the anime isn’t talking about it besides one mention by All Might.  let me see what my boy is feeling.

Anyway, I’m not sure when I’ll get started on Part 3 because like....that’s a lot and I have some spooky scary shit to get through first.  But let me know what everyone thinks and I hope you enjoy!!

--  Mod Skelly

[formula1fanfiction]

Valtteri Bottas / Lewis Hamilton

Title: Nudes in the group chat

Pairing: Valtteri Bottas / Lewis Hamilton

Characters: Valtteri Bottas, Lewis Hamilton

Prompt: Valterri post photos of his naked ass couple of times. Lewis has an urge to see this ass more close. Top Lewis- Bottom Valtteri

rating: 18+

A/N: This is the first part of the group chat series :)

F1 Drivers group chat

Valtteri: Good morning guys!

Lance: WHYYYY ????

Carlos: Stop, you're putting me off my breakfast

Lando: Ew

Pierre: ^ agree with Carlos and Lando

Zhou: Good morning :)

Charles: same as Pierre, Carlos and Lando

Valtteri: ;)

George: Seriously Valtteri it's the third time this week, do it again and i'll kick you out of the group chat.

Max: You must listen to princess George, Valtteri

George: fuck off Max

*

Lewis scrolls back up to the first picture Valtteri put in the group chat, he doesn't know why Valtteri keeps putting his ass in the group chat but it's making something stir inside of Lewis. The sort of thing that makes his cock twitch with interest.

Is it wrong to jerk off to pictures of your ex teammate? Probably but it doesn't stop Lewis wrapping his hand around his already erect cock and start to stroke. The dirty thoughts keep popping into Lewis' head, spanking those peachy arse cheeks, spreading them apart, Lewis sinking his cock inside of them.

Lewis is close now, his cock is leaking heavily he strokes that little bit faster and soon feels the height of his orgasm, he shoots his load into his own hand and leans back into his pillows, something needs to be done about this.

(Text) Lewis to Valtteri: Seriously, I need to see that ass up close!

(Text)  Valtteri to Lewis: Took you long enough!

Luckily it's only a few days before race weekend, so Lewis doesn't have to wait long at all to finally get a piece of Valtteri's juicy ass. It's so thick and glorious. Lewis can barely contain himself when gets the text from Valtteri, telling Lewis he's ready. He doesn't hesitate even for a second, tonight is going to be amazing.

Lewis lets himself into Valtteri's room and what he finds is breath taking just Valtteri laid naked and spread out on the bed like a roman god. His cock is hard and proud standing against his stomach, Lewis' own  cock takes immediate interest, so Lewis wastes little time removing his clothing. Soon both men are completely naked.

"Do you have lube, Valtteri?" Lewis gets straight to the point, after all they are just here to have sex. The fin reaches over to the nightstand and presses the bottle into Lewis' hand. "What did you have in mind?" Valtteri asks innocently.

Lewis pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and settles down in between Valtteri's wide spread legs. "I want you to ride me, I want to wash that ass bounce." Valtteri smiles as he nods, sinking back into the pillows on the bed.

Lewis gently circles Valtteri's soft pink hole before gently sinking inside, his finger is accepted easily and Lewis slides into the knuckle, twisting and turning his finger before lightly thrusting in and out. Valtteri opens up pretty quickly so Lewis adds a second one and soon a third until he's got three fingers slamming into him. Lewis sinks a little deeper and teases Valtteri's prostate, before easing his fingers out judging him open enough for his cock.

"I want you in reverse cowgirl, I want to watch your juicy." Lewis speaks while settling into Valtteri's spot in the cushions. "Whatever you say Lewis." Valtteri adds a cheeky smile playing on his lips. Lewis cannot wait for this.

Valtteri positions himself over Lewis' cock and slowly starts to sink down. "Fuck yes." Lewis groans once Valtteri reaches the hilt, he looks so good stretched around Lewis' cock, like he was born to take it.  Valtteri stalls for a few seconds, his fingers leaving cresent moons on Lewis' thighs as he gets used to the burn. Lewis squeezes his ass and massages at the muscles, lightly thrusting up making Valtteri gasp in pure pleasure at the unexpected movement. Fuck Lewis is on cloud nine right now.

"I'm ready." Valtteri announces, giving Lewis little time to process the information before pulling himself up, until only the head of Lewis' cock is inside him, then slams back down again causing them both to moan. Valtteri repeats the action a few more times before settling into a steady rhythm. Lewis has the perfect view of the gorgeous ass wrapped around him while Valtteri is slowly bouncing up and down on his cock.  

The pinkness of Valtteri's rim is stretched obscenely around Lewis' thick cock, the lube is making it shiny, he pulls the cheeks apart watching the way it clenches around his cock as Valtteri moves harder and faster. Lewis digs his fingers into Valtteri's hip bones and angles his cock ever so slightly.

"Fuck right there Lewis." Lewis smiles he's found what he's looking for, he thrusts up matching Valtteri's pace slamming into his prostate over and over again. Valtteri is close, Lewis can tell by the stuttering of his hips and the shaking of his thighs. Lewis' slams into his prostate three more times before he finally loses and shoots his load over his own chest.

Lewis flips Valtteri onto his back and slams into him with all his might, searching for his own orgasm. The only sound in the room is the sound of skin slapping together. Lewis screams as he comes filling up Valtteri with his milky white seed. Lewis pulls out instantly and collapses down beside him.   

They don't cuddle, they just lay together panting trying to getting their breathing back under control.

"Why did you keep sending pictures of your arse in the group chat?" Lewis laughs, eventually breaking the silence, it's been driving me crazy all week. Valtteri smirks his eyes meeting Lewis' "I wanted to see how long it would take for you to get in touch with me."

[bellshellsrage]

Names in New York

Word Count: 1,433

Pairing: Jefferson x Washington!Reader

Prompt:

      Jefferson x reader where reader is Washington’s daughter (for @richsetafire2)

[A.N.~ Sorry this is so late! The holidays and life kicked my ass, so I made this extra long to make up for it.]

Names carried weight in New York. Who your family was meant more than who you were, and people judged you based off of that before you even opened your mouth.

Which is why I attempted to use my mother’s name and not my father’s. It drove my parents insane, but my father’s advisor understood. I was walking with him in the garden one day talking and voicing my opinion as he laughed at me.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that we were related.”

I shrugged. “You never know, Alexander. My mother is very fond of you.”

His eyes went wide. “Don’t joke like that!” I laughed and he placed his hand over his heart in mock distress. “I’m too old for that.”

“You know that I value your friendship too much to distress you like that.” I chuckled.

He nodded and we walked a few more paces before he scowled. “Oh, great. The blowhard is back.”

I frowned and my eyes drifted in the direction that he was looking. Thomas Jefferson was strolling with a tall blonde woman on one side of him and a redhead on the other. They were hanging on to every word he said, and he seemed to be loving the attention. My stomach turned at the sight.

“Alexander-“

“Ah! If it isn’t my greatest friend and my worst enemy! Conspiring against me in broad daylight?” Jefferson grinned as he turned his charms on us.

Alexander bristled and I tried to take a step back as he stood firm. “If we were, what would you do about it?”

“Absolutely everything in my power to stop it.” Thomas’ voice dropped in pitch, and the two girls looked worried before they scurried away, as if they knew that they were not a part of this.

I stepped forward between the two men. “Can we have one day in the fresh air without you two spoiling it? Please?”

The tension was palpable for a moment before Thomas grinned and took my hand. “Of course my sweet.” He kissed my knuckles, eyes still locked onto Alexander. “Anything for you my dear.”

And with that, he spun on his heel and left without another word. Alexander was fuming and glaring at his rival’s back until it was out of sight before he turned his attention towards me.

“What in the hell was that?!? Are you going to explain what he meant or are you going to let me figure it out on my own?!?” He rambled before gasping. “Your father! Does your father know? Or course your father doesn’t know or else I would know and-“

“And you aren’t going to tell him.” I interjected. “And I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. I wanted to tell you in a better way and in a better setting, but you know how Thomas gets-“

Alexander nodded as he scoffed. “Always trying to get the upper hand and keep it?” He glanced at me. “Does he treat you right? Are you happy?”

I grinned and rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like my father.” He chuckled and rose his eyebrows. “Yes to both questions.”

“Well, Miss. Washington-“ I grimaced, making Alexander stiffen as he offered me his arm. “Time to tell your father about Mr. Jefferson.”

I looped my arm through his. “Can’t I just tell my parents about my beloved Thomas? Why does it have to be ‘Mr. and Mrs. Washington’ and  ‘Mr. Jefferson’?”

Alexander laughed and patted my hand. “Because life isn’t that simple, and this is New York.”

I groaned as he lead me inside and to my father’s office, where I could already hear voices raised in a heated argument. “Alexander, it sounds like he’s already in a meeting. Why don’t we come back-“

“Sir, if we could have but a moment of your time.” Alexander interrupted me and my father at the same time as he pushed the door open.

I froze when I saw Thomas turn and give me a flash of a worried look before his expression went neutral again. My father was stone-faced as always, but straightened when he saw that I was with his trusted advisor and friend.

“Ah, Mr. Hamilton. Just the man I wanted to see. Do you have the papers I requested finished?”

Alexander nodded as he shot a pointed glare at Thomas. “Yes, sir. But what I really came here for was-“

“He came here as an escort for me.” I stepped forward, gently placing a hand on his arm to silence him. “Thank you, Mr. Hamilton.”

Alexander closed his mouth and nodded. “If that is all, then I have personal items to discuss with my daughter, gentlemen.”

Thomas flinched at his tone, and Alexander took a step back as he met my eyes for a split second before they both left the room. When the door was closed, tension filled the space like a vacuum as I held my head high and stared at my father.

“So, were you planning on ever informing your mother and I about your relationship with Mr. Jefferson?” He broke the silence, and I bit back a smile knowing that I had won the battle.

“We were planning on telling you together over dinner. But Thomas and Alexander got into an argument and I guess Thomas wanted you to hear it from him and not Alexander.”

I saw his spine tighten at my informal use of names, but he didn’t correct me. “They are always arguing about something. Why was this any different?”

“You would have to ask them, father. They’re your cabinet members.” He spun and his eyes bore into my skull like a drill.

“Do you love him? Jefferson? Does he care for you? Because I have seen him with other women, and that is not the type of man that I will have with my daughter.”

I sighed, letting my back relax slightly. “He is kind, father. The man you see in the cabinet and on the streets is not the same man that I see behind closed doors.”

“And are you behind closed doors often? Because you have a reputation to uphold as a Washington.”

“I am not just a Washington, remember.” I scolded gently. “And I am a grown woman.”

He stood facing the window, staring out onto the street below. “I used to imagine you with a soldier. Someone who would protect you and who would be there when I could not be.” He smirked slightly, as if the expression was foreign to him. “But now I know that you do not need protecting. You need someone who will challenge you and make you angry enough to want to change things.” He nodded and turned to face me. “And Jefferson is exactly the right man to do that.”

I grinned and nodded. “I agree. Thank you, father.”

“Don’t expect me to start calling him Thomas, though.” He called as I turned to leave.

I shook my head and chuckled. “Of course not… Mr. Washington.” I shut the door behind me and walked a few steps out of the building to see Thomas and Alexander standing a few feet apart from each other. “And here I thought that you two would be at each other’s throats.”

They both rushed up to me, the same worried expressions on their faces. “What did he say?”

“I am so sorry. I should have stuck to our plan!” Thomas exclaimed as he took one of my hands.

Alexander held the other. “I threw you to the dogs and for that I am truly sorry.”

I laughed and shook my head. “If you two would stop fighting so much, you might actually get along!” They exchanged glares before looking back at me. “He accepts our relationship, but refuses to call you Thomas. He even said that I deserve someone who makes me mad!” I shook my head and proceeded past the two men. “He must have been in a good mood today, so whatever you two do in the next meeting had better not spoil it.”

“Jefferson! Hamilton!” My father’s voice rang out over the courtyard, silencing our celebration. “Cabinet meeting! Now!”

They groaned and turned towards the building, pulling away from me. “The government’s work is never done.” Alexander quipped.

“Remember what I said! Don’t ruin it!”

Thomas grinned slyly. “I’ll be good if Hamilton will.”

Alexander glared at him, then gave me a look. “If he comes home with a black eye, don’t ask where it came from.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Play nice!”

{tagged blogs: @kirakombat @alfredosource @insomniaxart}

[hamilton-one-shots]

Hamilton High School AU 96

“Yes!” Francis screeched. “Jeremy Heere, reporting to Loserville!”

Thomas chuckled and looked for his name. The SQUIP, of course. This would be interesting.

Lafayette scanned the list, bouncing on his toes. Richard Goranski! It would be interesting being something besides the hero.

John didn’t even bother fighting the crowd. They told him he was going to be Michael since they started.

Theodosia and Martha high fived as they found their names. Brooke and Chloe, respectively.

Once the crowd died down, they all grabbed a script and sat down, looking over their own lines. Thomas sat down beside Francis, nudging her playfully. “Looks like we’re going to get really close.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, even you can’t scare me off of this role.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m going to help you,” he corrected, his typical grin on his face.

Francis raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to help me?”

Thomas nodded and threw an arm around her. “I’ll tenderly guide you,” he sang. “Just take me inside you, fore-” He was cut off as Francis elbowed his gut, clutching his stomach.

“Are you done?”

He nodded.

“Good. We can’t be friends if you’re going to creep on me. Next time, I’ll tell John.”

He sat up and looked at her, dead serious. “It was a joke, I swear. Don’t tell John.”

Francis wasn’t sure if he was worried about getting hurt or losing John, but either way, she at least had to scare him a bit. “John!” she called out, the freckled boy showing up and pulling Thomas’s chair away already.

“What’s up?” he asked.

She glanced at Thomas before smiling back up at John. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re the Michael to my Jeremy.”

He seemed a bit surprised that he didn’t have to kick Thomas’s ass, but it definitely was a pleasant surprise. “Thanks.. I’m sure I’ll be okay with some help from you and Laf.”

“I’m free to help whenever you want,” she offered.

“Hey, I think I can help my own boyfriend,” Thomas whined.

John shrugged. “Considering what I heard about last time, I think I’m going to just have to keep an eye on you. Thank you, though.” He kissed his cheek and went back to Lafayette, who was reading thoroughly through his lines, highlighting or sectioning them off, already about halfway through.

John sat and did the same, humming to himself. He ended up being the first one of the two to get to the end, something catching his eye during the hospital scene. “Hey, Laf?” he began.

“Oui?” Lafayette responded mindlessly.

“Has this always been here?” John asked, showing him the highlighted portion of the page.

Lafayette looked up and skimmed over the lines, furrowing his eyebrows. “No..” He looked in his own script and saw the same thing. “Weird.. I’ll ask Eacker about it.” He got up and went over to their teacher. “Sir, why is there a kiss scene between Michael and Rich here?”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I was going through the script with Lauren and Frances was over and she suggested that I add it. It’s sweet and it adds up. Besides, I know Thomas and John and Alexander and John are a thing, so I kind of assumed...”

Lafayette shook his head. “Um.. No.. We’re not a thing. Just them three and me and Hercules.”

“Oh.. I can always change it back, if you’re not comfortable.”

“Um..” Lafayette glanced back at John, who was reading through his part. “I don’t think I’d mind it, honestly. Besides, I went through Dead Girl Walking with... That.” He pointed at Thomas, who was trying to infiltrate and talk to the circle of freshman girls.

“Right...” Eacker chuckled. “Well, I know it is awkward, so if you can’t handle it, or, rather, if it’s too much for John, I can always change it back or we can just do hand holding.”

Lafayette nodded. “Thank you.” He went back to John.

“So what’s the verdict?” he asked.

“You and I are kissing. Get used to it.”

John chuckled. “Alright. It could be worse. After all, you did Dead Girl Walking with that.” He pointed at Thomas, who had made it into the circle of girls, though Francis was keeping a good eye on him.

“John?”

“Yes?”

“You’re dating that.”

“I know and I love it, but he’s an idiot sometimes.” He smiled.

Lafayette smiled at that and continued looking through his script. “Do you want to work on this outside of rehearsal with me?”

“Yeah. I was planning on working on it with Thomas, but you need to be there to keep him on task.”

Lafayette thought for a second. “I thought Alexander was going to be with you, too.”

John shrugged. “Doesn’t stop him. He knows I’m okay with it and he likes that it bugs Alexander.” He smiled to himself. “Alexander knows he can make Thomas stop, he just lets him be. It’s fun, trust me.”

And Lafayette thought that was sweet. He thought it was sweet that John and Thomas and Alexander got along so well. The concept was still a bit odd to him, but if they were happy, who was he to judge?

After practice, John went with Thomas to his car, scripts in hand and arm around his shoulder.

“So, are you still coming over to rehearse lines with me?” John asked as they reached the car.

“Of course I am,” Thomas assured. “Is Alex coming to watch?”

“Yes. And Lafayette is joining us.”

That made Thomas pause for a moment, just surprised. After all, he was not one to goof off. He saw the kiss scene when he was skiing through with the girls. It wasn’t like he was jealous or anything. It was just... Weird. John was his boyfriend and Lafayette was their friend, one of both of their closest friends. It was just weird.

“Are you okay?” John asked as he got into the car, watching as Thomas unfroze and did the same.

“Yeah, I’m fine.. I don’t know, I just think it’s going to see you and Laf kiss.”

John smiled at that. Thomas was joking, right? “Okay, Mr Dead Girl Walking. Your relationship with him in Heathers was way more out there than mine with him in Be More Chill. It’s just a little kiss, right?”

John always did know how to make someone feel better.. “You’re right.”

[nivks]

top 5 nick holidays <3

decided to get emo over nicks previous historic holidays for the amazing @grimmyappreciation​ fest ❤️ BIG BIG thank you to Writ for organising this all, its fucking amazing 💞

5. coachella 2013. 

its the ny/ldn crew all together which is a rare gift these days

special place in my heart cos rj. soaking wet after running into the pool holding hands? thats hot.

also cos was got some amazing looks

look how short his shorts look here

look how short his DEMIN shorts look here

also that one vine on nick and alexa in the bathroom

OH the vine of alexa unbuttoning her shirt and its nicks rug

with the sister video of henry unbuttoning his shirt and it being aimees boobs <3

also nick DJin for henry with JBeibz

the pink sweater really!!!!!!

also aimee looked fucking amazing which she always does but!!

and alexa <3

this pic that aimee posted years later as a #tbt

4. puerto rico 2012-2013

okay i barely understood how to use tumblr/social media for like fandom purposes and shit so i was barely keeping up with this but! the puerto rico new years trip! the first holiday i was around for! <3<3

theres a high chance why i love this one so much is cos guy took such amazing photos and it looks dreamy and makes me want like 7 best friends that i can go chill with and do this with

oh wait this was the nicks ‘well #LADDY’ trip

just one of the guys <3

alexa this pic of aimee and this pic of nick are beautiful

this pic of all three? <3

3. miami/ny 2017

WE DIDNT EVEN KNOW what was to come we just thought there was gonna be a prerecorded nick/harry interview while they were both busy but instead we got THIS holiday

this is me @ me living with what happened now

aka the holiday where nick flew his mama to miami

and they hung out at the beach

so much beach time

so happy too <3

eileen put up with nick being extra on insta

nick rly is a mamas boy <3

eileen everyday probably: this is rly my son ayye

nick documenting their target experience

his work experience or whatever at a dentist office must have made a real big lasting impression :/

but hten they FLEW TO NEW YORK 

ykno got some bargins and shit

then

‘lovely boy showing lots of love to his mama. have fun you two xxx’

<3<3<3 when we realised they were at the snl taping <3<3<3

then nick and eileen partying till the early hours with jimmy fallon???

‘not hungover at all. feeling fresh. wish it was hotter.’

cosy home time flyin look <3

technically not the holiday but the first thing he does when hes home is hangout with sunday and instagram his husband holding her so

sidenote did harry have all his gucci shit organised all the w ay back then and was already makin sure all his pals were wearing gucci on his big debut day like nick continued to wear it the first day he was home

 2. miami 2015-2016

i know that we were all disappointed for 0.03 seconds about this trip but like

nick was on the BALCONY in nothing but his PANTS and SHIRT

looking TIRED and HAPPY

looking like hes about to give a shout-out to someone deep swimming

it was just a REALLY nice day

he could star in his own romantic indie seaside drama

that lil peak of hip!

we also got nick and ian <3

oh this jorts masterpeice was a fucking hot look

his cosy airport look

i always rly liked this pic of nick and rita

aimee and iannnnn

NICK and aimee and iannnn

nick and his husband george

oh when nick looked like a pimp wearing tom ford to a new years eve party wHERE HE WAS GIGGLING INTO LEWIS HAMILTONS neck and we never saved the video :( im STILL mad

back to him on the balcony <3

he looks like hes PAST drunk and jus tlike......... wrecked fully completely singing beiber

the artsy dramatic paddling

fake tattoos that i still actually want to be real

OH SHIT THIS IS THE HOLIDAY WHERE THEY NICK AND HIS HUSBAND GEORGE WERE TOO DRUNK FOR THE HAMMOCK

nick eyelashes in the first part but also the part where hes like Mrs Doubtfire is the greatest piece of cinematography ive ever een YEH

oh i giffed his eyes thanks @ past me

FUCKING lol

#natureboy

oh his RUG

oh wow the david attenborough thing aka ‘this man is the alpha. he will smash you up. he will kill you. hes very aggressive. very large. thats the alex.

1. mallorca/barcelona 2018

aka the holiday that started as the #nsfw holiday but really was just a REALLY nice holiday.

a mix between a farewell to breakfast and his dream job while celebrating his birthday and relaxing for the longest amount of time hes ever had off since the breakfast show started <3

a well deserved break that literally felt like lasted a lifetime and had a new rotation of friends every week

everyone from kim jones to liv tyler to helena christensen making an appearance 

nick gettin his ass out for the internet in picture form.

nick getting his ass out for the internet in video form.

and there were the dick pics.

gettin ready for his bday partyyyy

honestly this trip was? the HAPPIEST and LIGHTEST hes ever looked ill stand by that till i die

glad that he and his husband take 97% of their vacations together and im glad they do some really  dumb shit

SMILIN.

like u thought it was over but no. they went to barcelona.

still a hun in the sun.

still drunk and still happy <3

hes a freak tho like i know we were all like yeh hes literelly been drunk for 3 weeks straight now but like. HE exercised.

i love him and i hope he always holidays and is always happy <3

love a self aware holidaying instagram bitch.

ALSO i cant not give a shoutout to nicks mallorca 2015 birthday trip in with

the tin foil hats? tin foil SKINNY JEANS? daisys tin foil bra?

the rug looks when he was really feelin himself (bonus) holy shit his eyes

douglas booth showinhg up and giving us the ultimate dad nick

his drunkass birthday night where he wore his topman shirt and his hands were weirdly massive and i cant rememerb who this guy was but these two pics really......ended me

also the zefron tweets which he probably flipped about to everyone for the rest of the trip

nick and george are actually married in mallorca

also it mustve been announced just like that week that nick was gonna be xf judge cos <3 which STILL makes me ?? but also !!!

also painted nails <3 which seems like a standard holiday thing that he does tbh

wouldnt be a nick holiday unless he wore something on his head randomly either

[dramaqueeenamby]

The Tulips Are Too Red

A/N: So, I have a favor to ask of you all. Sooooo many of you have shared such kind words with me, sending encouragement my way in regards to my writing. Many of you even believe that I could be published my day. That still gets to me. 

Anyway, here’s the thing, before I ventured into writing BP fics, I created a completely fictional story that I planned to post on Wattpad once I finished the other stories on there. Well, that never happened. I was working on chapters, getting up to three done but stopped as I was busy with other Wattpad fics. However, you guys have really got me thinking about my writing and just future in general.

So, I’m posting one of the chapters that I’ve written in the hopes that you guys will let me know your honest opinion of it. If it’s shitty, please say so. Constructive criticism will only make me better as a writer. 

Also, as I was rereading it, I realized that I could really turn this into a BP fanfic as well, a T’Challa x OC story once I finish up the rest of the fics that I’m juggling. 

Okay. I’ll shut up and allow you to read. I also won’t tag anyone because this is far from what you’re used to seeing from me.

----

It Is Winter Here

Chapter 1

It is Winter Here.

There are exactly twenty-four hours in a day. In minutes, that number grows to 1,440, and in seconds, it’s a whopping 86,400. Most people don’t think about stuff like that. Time. Unless they’re wondering how much they have left before they can clock off and go home to their adoring wife who’s been slaving over a stove all day. Or maybe their kids who’ve been home alone since they got out of school doing God knows what with God knows who. Other than those scenarios, and maybe a few more, like I said, hardly ever cross the mind.

But I’m not most people.

I tend to think about these things. I think about a lot of things actually. Like how long Craig plans to grow out his hair, or if Tammy will ever realize that that infomercial with claims of a one hundred percent success rate is based on a trial of exactly five participants, four of them, paid ‘volunteers’. I also notice a lot of things. Most of which, again, people are never privy to because of their supercilious concerns.

Like I said.

Not most people.

I watch her, not even attempting to hide my suspicious stare. She’s been sitting in the same spot for over an hour, a People magazine in hand and expensive shades over her eyes. To anyone else, she’s just another patron with plenty of time to spare. To me, she’s a hawk. No one reads the same magazine for an hour straight, especially one with a Kardashian on the cover.

“For someone who literally needs someone to wipe his ass, this guy is one hell of a di*k.” I look over at Candi who has been reading for roughly thirty minutes and is almost halfway through with the 400-page novel. “He sounds cute though. At least, the way she describes him makes him sound cute.”

“So you’d take him to the shop?” Zaria shifts in her seat, eyes staying on the photographic book in her lap. She’s had the same one for over an hour.

Candi giggles and lifts her left shoulder. “He could own the shop.” I roll my eyes and tap my nails against the mahogany wood armrest of my spacious chair. “Candi likes being on top anyway.”

“Candi likes all positions.” I chime, finally throwing in my two cents.

She sighs loudly and flips her blonde locks over a naturally tanned shoulder. “I’m a lover, Nova. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh I think you have enough to give for the three of us, Candi Cane.” I wink and return my eyes to the woman in question. I squeeze the solid chair, ignoring the pressure it puts on my weak nails. She still has that same damn magazine and has again started from the first page, looking over the front cover like she doesn’t already have the scandalous image and cliched caption memorized.

“Guys.” Zaria’s voice brings me back to reality as she pulls down the sleeves of her white shirt. There’s no need for her to do so, but it’s a habit of hers. “It’s time.”

Sure enough, Pat is only feet away from us, that stupid rehearsed smile on his droopy face.

“Already.” Candi pouts and puts her arms in front of her, hands in between her thighs, her busty chest on full display. “But I’m almost done.”

Pat offers a strained smile, chubby fingers going up to adjust his thick-rimmed glasses. “Why don’t you just buy the book, Candi?”

She tilts her head to the side and deepens her pout. “I already spent my allowance.”

“On?” When she smiles wickedly, his Adam's apple moves up and then down. “Candi.”

“Oh relax, Patty.” She giggles again and chews on her bottom lips, untangling her long legs and rising to her full height. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” She pulls out a southern accent and pulls a finger to her mouth, pretending to think. “Or is it woman?”

“I wanna buy mine,” Zaria informs, also standing up, looking like a lost child next to Candi’s lengthy frame. “Nova?”

I get up, taking Candi’s book and placing it on top of mine. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Zaria pulls her sleeves down again and tucks the book under her arm, walking in front of me, leaving poor Pat to deal with Candi while we complete this transaction.

On our way to the registers, I look back and see that the Hawk is walking out, stuffing the magazine in her black Hamilton bag.

She can’t be stealing. It’s a possibility, but judging by the tennis bracelet on her wrist and that rock on her ring finger, stealing seems rather out of character. No. The magazine is clearly hers. I wiggle my fingers and fix my jaw.

Who in the hell comes to a bookstore to read a magazine they already own?

Like I said, hawk.

✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻

The car ride back is long, bumpy, and crowded. The van, overdue for some serious improvements or a junking, has a strong odor. It’s not vomit inducing, but its stench will leave you crinkling your nose when you first get a waft. In the second row, seatbelt stretched and clutching onto a protruding chest, Candi engages in conversation with the driver.

He’s new, probably a tempt, and after a car ride with Candi Wallace, this will be his last time filling in.

“It’s so beautiful.” Zaria murmurs to my left, her tiny fingers and raggedy nails trailing over a portrait of the grand canyon. “The view from the top must be breathtaking.”

I give the picture a few seconds of my time, for her sake. It is nice, but nature has never really stood out to me. Too many elements that I can’t control. “Maybe one day you can take your own picture. That one, I’d maybe even frame.”

Aside from a small smile, she says nothing.

The rest of the ride is filled with Candi’s musing and Pat’s occasional business calls. When we pull up, the driver and Pat flash ID’s; the guard peaks his head in the car to make sure that everything checks out.

After Candi flashes him a wink and places her index finger in her mouth, he gives her a one-over and lets us in.

“He wants me.” She mouths to us and then giggles, clapping her hands together and resuming her goal of bugging the driver. When we pull up to the entrance, she’s the first one out, blowing him a kiss and happily waving. “Call me.”

“Maybe,” I add on, smiling when she shoots me a glare. “I couldn’t help.”

“Jealousy really isn’t becoming of you, Nova.” She raises her chin and saunters through the automatic doors, switching her hips and uttering variations of hello to everyone she passes.

“You gotta admit.” Zaria starts, keeping her book clutched against her chest. “She’s fun to be around.”

I look over my shoulder to see Pat watching us closely. He’s so annoying.

I roll my eyes. “My lady, you and I have very different definitions of fun.” Swinging my arm around her shoulder is easy as we’re roughly the same height. I think I have an inch on her, maybe even less.

She laughs, and I crack a small smile. Those are becoming more prevalent by the day. It’s a stark contrast from our first meeting where she woke me up out of my sleep with screams and sobs that were only silenced by a heavy sedative.

We’ve come a long way.

“Ladies.” Pat interrupts. I suppress my eye roll.

As always, Candi is the first to volunteer. Smiling happily, she keeps her arms up wide and legs spread perfectly. “It’s new.” She informs happily when the man reaches her chest and pouts when he says nothing in reference to Candi’s new bra. When he’s done, Candi mouths ‘as*hat’ to us, and I put myself in front of the man before he gets a chance to call on Zaria.

With a bored face, I let him do his job, sending a glare when he keeps his hands on my as* for too long.

Creep.

When it comes to Zaria’s turn, I take her book from her, sending her a reassuring grin. She doesn’t return my gesture, but I’m okay with that. Her eyes say thanks. That’s enough for me.

Any sign of trust from Zaria is enough for me.

My glare stays on the jerk the entire time. I watch his every movement, waiting for him to try something with her. When he gets to her chest, I feel fingers move about, fighting the urge to ball my fist. I can literally see the discomfort on her part. She’s literally counting the seconds until he moves his hands anywhere else. I don’t know if he can tell that I’m willing to have my level 5 access revoked or if he senses the ardent apprehension radiating from her, but he keeps it short and professional. As soon as he’s done, she’s back by me, reaching for her book.

“Well, he was a meanie,” Candi comments as we wait for Pat to put the key in the panel right next to the elevator.

“Too touchy feely for my liking,” I reply loud enough so Pat can hear. He says nothing. Neither does Zaria. The rest of the elevator ride is in silence aside from Candi humming “Oops! I Did It Again.”

When we finally reach our floor, the three of us stand outside the elevator for our evaluation.

“Well, you ladies seemed to have done rather well today.” Pat smiles, the fat on his face parallel with the rolls that make up his neck. “If you’d like, we can try again next week.” I yawn, wishing that I could just walk away. I’d risk losing my clearance for Zaria or even Candi, but not myself.

Someone has to keep these two from extending their bid.

“Tomorrow the group outing is to the aquarium.” He smiles fondly like this is the best news we’ve heard all day. One glance to a somewhat excited Zaria makes me realize that for her, it probably is. “I think you all would have a fine time.”

“I wanna show off my new bra. I’m game.” Candi grabs her boobs, lifting them with a wink and a smile. “Nova?”

I can literally think of a million things that I’d rather do than spend a day at the aquarium, but one look at Zaria, and I know my decision has already been made for me.

“I guess a day with Happy Feet won’t be too bad.” What I want to say is it won’t kill me, but around here, there are just some words you want to try and avoid. Kill being one of them. It’s for good reason though.

Even I’m not too much of an as*hole to admit that.

✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻

For dinner, we had chicken lasagna with mixed vegetables, garlic bread,  and apple pie for dessert. If it sounds magically delicious, you’re magically wrong.

The chicken was bland, the vegetables cold, and the garlic bread might have left me with some cracked teeth. The apple pie was decent, but nothing to brag about. I shouldn’t complain. Yesterday we had beef casserole.

Majority of my plate ended up in the trash.

“He was cute though, right?” Candi brushes through her hair, that dazed look in her eyes. That can only mean one thing. She’s already been given her nighttime dosage. “Of course he was. I only fu*k with the best.”

Zaria, fresh-faced, arms out and exposed in her short-sleeved shirt and blue Soffee shorts, offers a small laugh. “He must have been close to forty Candi.”

“And I thought you only liked ballers?” I wondered aloud from my position on Zaria’s bed. Next to me, she continues to admire the pictures in her book.

“Well, duh. I need a middleman to get to him.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, moving her shoulders from side to side, admiring her reflection. “I think my tits are getting bigger.”

“Your tits or your ego?”

She glares through the mirror and then pouts. “Boo, you whore.”

Zaria frowns. “You know I don’t like that word.”

“You don’t like anything, Zaria.” Candi rolls her eyes.

“Better than liking everything.” Zaria shoots back with a sly smile. I high five her, much to Candi’s chagrin. “If you catch my drift.”

“You guys are mean.” She stomps her feet and resumes brushing her hair.

When Zaria yawns, I realize her that her Clonezepam has already kicked in. Her lids are heavy, and she moves to put her book up.

“Uh oh. I think someone is sweepy.” She says in a baby voice and moves to pinch Zaria’s cheek, but Zaria swats her hand away. Candi laughs and sits on the bed, giving her a half hug. “Night, ladybug.” She kisses her cheek and brushes the top of her head.“You know I’m right down the hall if ya’ need me, sugar.”

“And I’m right next door,” I add on, lightly punching her on the arm. “Sleep tight, kid.”

“Thanks, guys.” She smiles gratefully, getting up at the same time we do so she can pull back the covers. She doesn’t even care that the horizontal lines on the inside of her thighs from not even two years ago are on full display. In the privacy of her room, even with Candi and I, Zaria is true to be herself.

We all are.

Candi yawns loudly with outstretched arms. “I’m wiped.”

“Doesn’t take much.” I chuckle, but hug her side. “Good night Candi Cane.”

She smiles brightly, her pearly whites distracting the small mole on the right side of her chin. “Night, babycakes.” I don’t even react as she squeezes my butt. I simply shake my head and walk over to my door.

I stop when I go to turn the handle, noticing the light peaking through the bottom of the door.

Smirking, I walk in and shut it behind me.

“Can I help you with something?”

He’s sitting on the green, faux leather chair in the corner of my room. I narrow my eyes, wishing that I could wipe that smug grin off his chiseled face. He leans forward, his green scrubs a contrast against his sun-kissed skin, the short sleeves clinging against solid muscle.

“I’m here for night check.”

I chuckle, purposely taking my time as I make my way over to him. “Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you Mr..,” I look over at the badge on his shirt. “Collins, but I have level 5 access. I don’t need a night check.” My body is jolted forward, my knees immediately separating so that I’m straddling him. “This is highly unprofessional and extremely inappropriate.” I moan as one hand goes to stroke my already hardened nipple and the other slips into my shorts.

He mimics my chuckle, satisfied when he feels the wetness already pooling from my core. “I’ve seen your records, Ms. Young.” He stands us up, his hand still in my shorts, teasingly running his finger up and down my folds. “Breaking rules is your specialty.”

I look down at him, his blue eyes holding nothing but pent up lust. Using my index finger, I run my finger down his cheek, parting his mouth and tugging on his bottom lip.

“Then what are you waiting for, Doctor?”

With a guttural growl, he throws me on the bed. I don’t think I need to tell you what happened next.

Two hours later, he’s long gone, and I’m out like a light.

Just another typical day at Lakeshore Mental Hospital.

[my-dear-hammy]

Falling Through Time: Book 1

Masterpost

Jamilton Series Masterpost

Basking in Candlelight

Part Eleven

Paces, Fire!

----

Warnings: Excessive Drinking, blood, cuts from glass, cussing

----

George Washington resigned and Jefferson was super close to following in his footsteps. That melody has yet to play out. It haunted his every step. Every day, all he wanted was for it to just end. But he couldn't leave while the nation spirals toward self-destruction. Hamilton's Whiskey Rebellion rocked the nation a bit and now John Adams is president and already fucking things up. How could he leave it like that?

Jefferson tried to resign. He really did. When Washington was still halfway through his second term. Then the Democratic-Republicans stuck his name on the presidential ballot and suddenly he's a candidate. Fine, If the people want him to lead, he will. But now he couldn't leave until Adams was gone. Jefferson didn't have to worry about Hamilton anymore, he got fired. Well, he technically resigned, but Adams like to think he fired him.

Jefferson sat back in his chair. Vice President doesn't do much, well, he would, if Adams let him. Adams didn't trust Jefferson's political views, so he kept him under lock and key. The mother fucker. And to think, they were once the best of friends. Oh well, Jefferson could read a book or something to pass the time.

Someone knocked on his door. Interesting. Putting aside his book and his tea, Jefferson stoked the fireplace and went to the door and swung it open, "Welcome to the grand palace of-Hamilton? What are you doing here? God, you smell terrible." Terrible was an understatement. He reeked. Jefferson waved his hand as if that would help disperse the smell.

"Thomas!" Hamilton slurred, "Buddy!" He half hugged, half collapsed onto him.

"Since when am I your buddy? You're drunk, go home," Jefferson said, holding most of Hamilton's weight. He should just drop him.

"Home?" Hamilton asked, looking up at Jefferson, "I don't have a home anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"Eliza read the Reynolds Pamphlet."

"Ah. You shouldn't have written that." Well fuck. Now Jefferson couldn't drop him. Hamilton played the pity card. Not that he was aware that's what just happened.

He waved Jefferson off, "She burned the house down."

"Well, she certainly went out with a blaze of glory," Jefferson chuckled.

"And she took Phillip and went to her father's."

"So, what are you doing here?"

He paused. "I have absolutely no idea."

Jefferson sighed, "Alright, here we go," and picked him up, Hamilton giggled, kicking his legs like a child.

"Holy shit, this is high."

"Shut up and watch your head." Jefferson carried him inside and dropped him on his bed.

Hamilton studied the bed for a full five minutes before turning to back to him. "Don't get any ideas, Jefferson." His voice was clear and sober for that one sentence.

Jefferson certainly did have ideas.

He pulled off Hamilton's shoes and coat before throwing the blankets over him and sinking into the couch at the side of the room, against the wall not far from the bed. Why did Jefferson have to go through this?

***

Hamilton woke to desperate cries. That's one way to sober up.

He shot from the bed and ran into a wall with a thud. Where am I? He looked around for a second, trying to get his bearings. The dark room was familiar. That's right, Jefferson's. Another cry broke the silence.

"Jefferson?" Hamilton called searchingly. Hamilton could barely make him out, he was tossing and turning on a couch. A few strides across the room and he was immediately at his side, trying to shake Jefferson awake. It did absolutely nothing, just made him cry louder.

"Fuck."

Hamilton hugged him. Well, better put, he tried to suffocate him by smothering his face in his chest. That actually seemed to work, go figure. Hesitantly, Hamilton stroked his hair and murmured softly. His hair was sooo soft, it's unbelievable, just Hamilton always imagined. Eventually, Jefferson quieted down and returned to a relatively peaceful slumber. Laying him back down, Hamilton got up to return to where he'd been sleeping but found his arm was attached to a hand that didn't belong to Hamilton. Despite his attempts, it wouldn't relinquish, so Hamilton resigned himself to Jefferson's strong grip, lied down on the floor and went back to sleep.

When Hamilton woke again, his hangover hit him full force. Cursing, he sat up, unable to fight the pull consciousness anymore. The first thing he noticed, Jefferson was gone. The second thing he noticed, he was in the bed again and not on the floor. Why did I keep waking up here? It was starting to get strange. Third, he was still in his clothes. That was a bit of a relief.

Hamilton threw off the covers. Mission one, find Jefferson. Mission two, food. Mission three, pass out again. Great, day planned and ready to go. He stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. To his surprise, Jefferson was already there. To his greater surprise, he was surrounded by multiple bottles of alcohol.

Well, shit.

"Monsieur Hamilton," he greeted, sounding completely normal, "Bonjour." Well, except for the fact he was speaking French.

"Bonjour, comment vous sentez-vous(Good morning, how are you feeling)?" Hamilton asked.

He cackled, "Commen suis-je sentez-vous(How am I feeling)?" He continued to cackle. "Comment pense vous que je sentez-vous(How do you think I feel)?"

"Toi ressembler merde(You look like shit)."

"Je sentez-vous comme merde(I feel like shit)," he replied. "Comment vous sentez-vous(How are you feeling)?"

"Comme merde(Like shit)," Hamilton shrugged, taking a seat. "Parlez-vous toujours en français quand vous êtes iver(Do you always speak French when you are drunk)?"

He shrugged and pushed a bottle over to him. Uncapping it, Hamilton chugged. "Je suppose que nous sommes tous deux des gens plutôt terribles, sont nous ne pas(I guess we're both pretty terrible people, are we not)?"

"Je suppose nous sont(I suppose we are)," Hamilton chuckled. "Quvous hante alors(What haunts you then)?"

Jefferson laughed, "Une mélodie(A melody)."

Okay, that's odd to get drunk over. But who was he to judge?

"Hamilton?"

"Oui?"

"Merci(Thank you)."

"De rein(You're welcome)."

A few hours later, the alcohol started to kick in. Took it long enough. Hamilton's face was flushed and he drunkenly swayed back and forth.

"Lafayette was lying on the table, right? And then Herc tackled him, but the table couldn't handle both of their fat asses, so they both crashed to the ground, completely trashing the table," Hamilton laughed, "Burr was so mad, he had to pay for it. We weren't allowed back." Hamilton upended another bottle.

Jefferson cackled, "That's brilliant! Burr had to pay for it, ha! I bet he never went drinking with you again." Jefferson slammed his bottle down a little too hard. "Merde!" he swore. He underestimated his strength, again. Glass litter the floor and sliced open his hand. Blood mixed with the alcohol as it dripped onto the floor.

"Jesus, Jefferson, way to go," Hamilton laughed, setting down his drink. "Don't move." Hamilton left to get some bandages and a broom.

Jefferson looked down at the sparkling shards surrounding his bare feet. Fuck this. He stood and walked across the floor to a water basin, fully aware of the pain as the glass ground into his feet. He washed his hands and feet, picking out the shards. Hamilton returned only to see the bloody footprints.

"Shit, Jefferson, I told you not to move." He rushed over and helped Jefferson clean his injuries. Jefferson looked down at Hamilton's face as he diligently worked and smiled.

"You're a beautiful person, Alexander," he murmured.

Hamilton glanced up, trying not to look at Jefferson's soft lips. "Yeah?" he asked, refocusing on the work at hand. "You're not so bad yourself." Hamilton wrapped the bandage around Jefferson's feet. "There all done. Now don't move this time, seriously." Hamilton got up to sweep the floor but was stopped by Jefferson's grasp. He turned and looked at Jefferson questioningly.

"Alexander," Jefferson murmured, his voice soft and husky, he pulled Hamilton into a tight embrace. Hamilton tensed and then relaxed. Jefferson smelled like coconuts and fresh, crisp, winter air, and copious amount of alcohol. If it wasn't for that last scent, Hamilton would've melted. Coming to himself, Hamilton pushed away and went to go clean up the glass.

----

[pika-ace]

ITH Witness Protection AU

AAAAAAAAAARGH!!! @fight-me-fool718 STOP MAKING SUCH GOOD OCS AND MAKING UP GOOD STORIES FOR AUS!!!

So yeah, this basically started out as a kind of Sherlock AU but it then became thing, starring another one of Bird’s OCs and this time she’s a French Private Detective named Eliza Abbasi, and she’s here in the barrio to solve a mystery! (And yes, she is very different from Eliza Hamilton, but there’s nothing wrong with picturing her doing these things ;))

So it starts out with Usnavi contacting Eliza all the way in France, because he needs her help on a case. What happened? Well, Sonny’s disappeared and kidnapping is suspected. And Eliza’s kinda like Sherlock, so the case has to be interesting for her to take it. Luckily, this one is. Usnavi and Sonny were in the bodega or in the barrio together when the lights went out for a second and came back on, and Sonny was gone without a trace. It was like he just blinked out of existence. So Eliza flies Usnavi to her place in France, where she lives outside of Paris in a decent sized farmhouse with her pet goat and five chickens (the goat is named Mr. Darcy, and the chickens are named Sir Archibald Drew III (a rooster), Lady Beatrice, Clara Partridge, Martha, and Marianne [and yes they’re all named after Jane Austen characters]). Usnavi explains his case to Eliza, and she decides to take it, and they fly back to the barrio. And yes, Eliza is an observer like Sherlock and she can say and reveal some things without thinking, meaning she totally noticed that Usnavi had no parents hence why he’s so worried about Sonny and if she wasn’t Sonny’s only hope, then Usnavi would’ve thrown her out right there. ‘It’s clear that your parents’ deaths has given you a very strong sense of family, particularly with your remaining family, which would be your cousin; if you had any other close family to speak of you would have kept in closer contact with them and judging by the lack of pictures of family members on display, that’s not the case. And I suppose that this elderly woman’s passing has also contributed to your hold on Sonny.’ *points to picture of Abuela* ‘Her pictures are very numerous and very well kept, meaning she meant a lot to you, and I know she’s also deceased because of just how well kept these pictures are; was I close?’ ‘…Look, I don’t know how you knew that out, but I came to you to find my cousin, NOT figure out my whole life’s story!’ Now the whole mystery isn’t quite set in stone but the basic premise is this: the bad guys are a mafia-like group, and they’re VERY widespread. And through sheer bad luck, Usnavi either came across them doing something bad and called the cops, or he somehow, unknowingly, got his hands on some VERY important info that they need, putting Usnavi on their hit list. And they decide to use Sonny to get to him, hence the kidnapping. So there’s a lot of self-denial with Usnavi since he’s suspected the reason behind all this but refused to believe it until Eliza gets him to confess about what happened. ‘Your cousin is going to DIE unless you grow up and tell me what you know! Do you WANT Sonny to die?! Your only family, practically your son, your everything, you want to lose him because you’re too damn scared to tell the truth?!’ So the climax rolls around and Usnavi goes out to confront these guys alone, without telling Eliza, hoping he can just get them to give Sonny back, but of course, things get complicated. They bring Usnavi to their lair, tie him to a chair, and bring out a bound and gagged Sonny, and basically, they’re gonna kill them both to ensure they’re silence but do it very slowly, but Eliza swoops in just in time to save the day (this is taking inspiration from the Sherlock episode with the Asian acrobats/assassins). 

So Sonny is saved and the police bust his kidnappers but things don’t go right back to normal. Turns out this Mafia is WAY more elaborate than they thought, and it’s very likely they told the other branches ahead of time of what was going on, meaning that Sonny could still be in real danger. So Usnavi and Sonny have to go into witness protection, and it’s decided that Sonny is to go to France with Eliza. They give him his fake identity and he becomes Robin Dupont, the adopted son of Jean and Marie Dupont, staying with his Aunt Eliza as his parents suffered a terrible accident and are hospitalized in critical condition. So Sonny does his thing, learns to respond to his new identity, and is taken to France with Eliza (and no, Chip can’t come :( ). So Sonny is taken to his new home and is introduced to Eliza’s two wives (yeah she’s polyam!) Lottie (she’s black, Jewish, and a professional chef), and Aminah (she’s Indonesian). And as expected, Sonny goes through a VERY bad homesickness phase, which is also mixed with his emotional trauma of being kidnapped. He spends a lot of time alone and is very quiet, and doesn’t fit into his new school at first while he tries to keep up his new persona as Robin and not Sonny (this school is pretty fancy and has uniforms so you can imagine Sonny feeling pretty isolated). Luckily, Eliza’s basically a VERY snarky mom (she knows how to deal with haters ‘Go back to your own country!’ ‘Your wife just left you yesterday; I can see why.’) so if Sonny’s not living up to the right standards of the school, Eliza can talk her way out. ‘Ma’am, your nephew has been disrupting the class.’ ‘How so?’ ‘He keeps tapping his desk and cannot sit still!’ ‘And? The kid’s got ADHD, and went through a lot of stuff, he can’t help it.’ ‘Ma’am, he’s a distraction to the students and teachers alike!’ ‘Not my fault your faculty’s inadequate, and it’s not his either.’ But while Eliza’s a snarky mom, she’s also never BEEN a mom before, meaning she let Sonny read up on her past cases and learn from them, meaning he now knows how to kill a man with a toothbrush. So Sonny’s still closed off; he’s in a new place, new school, nothing like the Heights, and he can only write to Usnavi once every few months and is pretty miserable, but luckily, his three new surrogate moms are able to reach him, when Lottie makes Sonny a dish that Usnavi would make for him. Lottie makes the dish expertly, and it’s so similar to how Usnavi would make it, that Sonny starts crying as he eats, and Eliza just rubs his back as he finally lets out his pent up emotions. So after that, Sonny continues adjusting to his new life, but it’s still a lot. School is fine, but France is NOTHING like New York. The summers are milder, winters are colder, and he’s living with a family that is VERY well-off, making him able to go around and NOT worry about money (something he’s NEVER known), and he’s not used to how quiet his new home is at night, since he’s used to hearing the bustling city at night. But he slowly grows used to it, and even goes with Eliza and helps on cases, becoming the Watson to her Sherlock (Eliza also teaches Sonny fencing as that’s her sport; Usnavi was NOT pleased to hear about that). Plus, after a few months of living there, Usnavi was able to convince the people to send Chip over to live with Sonny, so Sonny has his dog to keep him company and he can make friends with all the chickens and the goat. Sonny’s also been making friends at school, as well as Lottie’s own nibling (niece/nephew), Sammy, who’s genderqueer (feminine presenting), lives in Spain, visits Lottie for the summer, and is actually just as politically aware as Sonny is. They spend hours ranting about the things wrong in their countries and in France. ‘TRUMP IS A TERRIBLE PRESIDENT!’ ‘MACRON IS GOING TO SHOVE HIS FOOT UP THAT RACIST CHEETO’S ASS!’ So with Sammy to be himself around, Sonny FINALLY comes out of his shell and things couldn’t be better. And to sweeten the deal, when Christmas rolls around, even though Eliza and co don’t celebrate it, they arrange for Usnavi and a good chunk of the barrio fam to have a surprise visit for Sonny. There’s much joy and tears :’) And I forgot to mention, that since Sonny’s in France, that means he learns French pretty well, along with German from Lottie and Indonesian from Aminah (they spend a lot of time just talking since she’s the stay-at-home member of the house). Which means that Sonny comes home with a bit of a french accent and two new languages under his belt. Speaking of Sonny coming back, that basically happens when Eliza and Sonny discover the last link to the mafia that kidnapped Sonny (they’re based in France), so their series finale is them ending these bastards once and for all so Sonny can finally go back home. 

But that doesn’t mean goodbye for good. When Sonny grows up, he TOTALLY goes back to visit, maybe with Eliza being able to get Sonny into a college in France, to help his education go even further. And that’s all we got. :)