#he really is obsessed e space huh

[cringelordofchaos]

Craig's room

[spiicii]

jimmy uso / nsfw alphabet

x fem!reader  word count → 2.6k summary → after writing for jey i had to try to write jimmy too, my second shot at writing (be nice), lots of smut and dirty talk beneath the cut, read at your own risk, not beta read

A = Aftercare 

The second you use your safeword, he immediately drops whatever cocky attitude he had and will become the sweetest man ever. He’s making sure you’re drinking water and using the bathroom after every session with him, even if he has to carry you. He’s gentle as he takes care of you, a stark contrast from how roughly he’d been fucking into you. His words are soft, whispering sweet praises in your ear as he lays you back down in the bed to sleep. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

His favorite part of himself would probably be his tattoos. He's proud of his heritage and what the tattoos represent. He likes it when you trace the ink on his neck with your fingers, peppering kisses behind his ear as you admire them.

For you, he's obsessed with your ass. How it jiggles, how he can grab it, how it looks in shorts, all of it. He doesn’t give a shit who’s around or what’s going on, he’s always trying to cop a feel, reaching around you to grab a cheek and squeeze. The first time he saw you dance, your ass bouncing in time with the music, he’d sat back in his chair, trying his best not to stare but failing miserably, seemingly hypnotized by how it moved and jiggled. Oh yeah, obsessed is an understatement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If you let him, he’s cumming inside you every time. Once he’s done, he’ll grab your ankles and open your legs to watch his cum drip out of you. He won’t let it get far though, reaching out and pushing it back into you, watching with a smirk as your body twitches from overstimulation. 

Nah, you’re getting stuffed full of my cum tonight, girl. Don’t want to waste a single drop. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s pretty shameless and isn’t really embarrassed by much. Stealing your panties to jerk off to later? He’s making jokes about how he needs to buy you more. You want to tie him up and tease him? He’s smirking at you in amusement, still somehow in control even though his thighs are shaking. He’s caught fucking you on the bus? He’s not stopping, all smiles as he continues to pound into you until the intruder finally leaves in embarrassment. 

Despite all of that, he does have one secret. Just one.

He thinks it would be so hot if he and his twin fucked you together. He’d love to see you take two dicks at once and Jey is really the only person he’d ever trust to share you with. He’s pretty possessive but he’s always been good at sharing with his brother. Still, he would never speak about this to anyone, vowing to take it to the grave. It was too taboo and dirty, even for him. (Now if you brought it up maybe he would feel differently...)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s been fucking since he was a teenager and he’s tried lots of different things, whether kinky or vanilla. His partners have been pretty diverse (mostly women, occasionally men though he was high so did it really count?) and he’s pretty much seen it all. This man is a FREAK so you’d be pretty proud of yourself if you found a way to surprise him. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy-style. All day, every day. No matter where you are or how tight the space is, he’ll find a way to bend you over. He loves seeing you stretched out on his cock, one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly you know it’ll leave bruises. You arch your back so perfectly for him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you as he spits some of the filthiest sex talk you’ve ever heard. 

Yeah, you gon’ take this dick, little girl. Greedy little bitch, aren’t you? Love bein’ used like a dirty whore, huh?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jimmy is the GOOFIEST. I’m sorry, but he would stop anything to make a joke or a stupid pun. You’d hate it if it didn’t make you laugh so much. Even when he’s fucking you in the nastiest, most disrespectful way, he’s still running his mouth, teasing about how he’s got you drooling into the mattress. 

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He rarely trims downstairs but would do it more if you asked. He doesn’t really care, more than happy to have you gag on his cock, your nose pressed into his bed of curls as he holds you in place. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He loves keeping you close to him, no matter what position he’s got you in. He might be fucking you within an inch of your life, but he’s still holding you tight against him, maybe even holding your hand or pressing sweet kisses against your skin while he does it. His sweet gestures, always so at odds with the disrespectful way he’s pounding into you, keep you grounded and make you feel cared for. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s only jacking off if he can’t be with you, like if he’s on the road or away for work. He prefers to do it with you over the phone, but he’s not opposed to just a quick jerk-off in the shower to release some stress. The entire time he’s thinking about the silky feel of your pussy or the memory of the time he’d bent you over the hood of his car in the parking lot of the WWE training center one night, the image of you drooling onto the cool metal of the car seared into his brain. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

A huge exhibitionist. Has jerked off to the idea of getting caught plenty of times and has often put you in some of the most compromising positions, partially hoping someone walks in and sees how fucked out he’s got you, your eyes crossed with pleasure. 

He’s disrespectful as hell, his hand tugging at your hair or wrapping around your throat. He’s not letting you cum unless you beg for it and he’ll punish you if you cum without permission. Doesn’t really care if you’re a brat or not, he’s so cocky he knows you’ll be begging for his dick no matter what he does. 

He loves seeing you cry, tears and mascara streaming down your face as you sob into the pillow. He’s laughing and smacking your ass, teasing you mercilessly. 

Aw, you gonna cry? That’s fine, let it out baby. Imma give you what you’ve been begging for. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers somewhere with a bed so you can be comfortable on your hands and knees for him, but he’s not picky. He knows you’ll take it wherever he wants: broom closet, locker room, tour bus, parking lot, he doesn’t care. He knows you’ll be a good girl and let him drill into your tight cunt until he’s satisfied. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything, I promise you this man is horny 24/7. He’s always down to fuck, no matter what’s going on. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He let a girlfriend peg him once in college and that was enough for him. He’s not the biggest fan of it, but if he could tell you really wanted to, he’d probably let you. He can’t really say no to you. 

He won’t be submissive. He’ll let you tie him up, punish him, whatever you want, but he will never give you the upper hand. He’ll stay bratty and cocky, no matter what you’re doing to him, and he likes it that way. Being submissive is just not in his nature. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s obsessed with your head game. You can always get the best sounds out of him from this, your head bobbing up and down his shaft, drooling on his dick and licking at the vein beneath. He usually lets you go at your own pace, mostly because you do such a good job on your own, but he sometimes can’t resist grabbing you by the hair and fucking your throat. 

He doesn’t often eat at you out, but when he does, he goes all the way. Orgasm after orgasm until you’re begging him to stop. He just laughs meanly at that, his strong arms keeping your hips pinned to the mattress. 

Baby girl, you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied. Now be a good slut and keep your legs open. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s never done anything slow in his life. He’s fast and rough, his grip on you bruising as he pistons in and out of you. The only time he’ll slow down is if he’s trying to punish you, dragging across your G-spot to make you writhe and beg. He’s mean like that. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are frequent, especially if you’re with him on the road. When he’s short on time, he’s more than happy to drag you off to a dark corner and bend you over. The possibility of getting caught only encourages him to do it more. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As we’ve established, Jimmy is risky as hell. He wouldn’t give a shit if he was caught fucking you. If anything, it would turn him on more. To him, risk is part of the fun. 

He’s experimented plenty in his life and isn’t afraid to try new things with you. If you somehow found something he hasn’t tried yet, he’s usually down. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man’s stamina is unreal. He can fuck you for hours on end, even when you’re too fucked out to move, collapsed on the hotel bed as he continues to slide into your overstimulated body. He won’t stop just because you’re tired. You’ve got a safeword and know how to use it. 

Oh shit? Can’t take anymore, huh? That’s fine, you can just lay there and take it like a good girl. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s never had his own collection of toys. Sure, he’s tried pretty much all of them from his long string of adventurous lovers, but he’s never owned any himself. Honestly, he’s arrogant about it. He knows you don’t need toys, not when he’s fucking you so perfectly or making you squirt around his fingers. And he certainly knows he doesn’t need any rope or handcuffs, not when he uses his powerful arms to hold you down or manhandle you into the position he wants. 

Still, if you really wanted to bring toys into the bedroom, he wouldn’t protest. He’d use whatever you wanted. Vibrator? Fine, but be prepared to be tortured with it for hours. Dildo? Great, he’s going to use it to gag your mouth until your jaw aches. Butt plug? He’s cumming in your ass multiple times just so he can plug you up with it and send you back to work. So, bring toys in at your own risk. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s so mean to you, and you love it. He’ll tease you for hours, denying you over and over until you’re ready to promise him anything just for one orgasm. He loves teasing you with his fingers, thick digits curling inside of you and brushing up against that sweet spot that makes stars explode across your vision. He hardly ever lets you cum like this. No, he wants you to beg him to fuck you and he wants you to mean it. It fuels his ego to see your pretty eyes full of tears, pussy swollen and leaking for him as you beg and plead with him to fuck you. 

But still, no matter how much he teases you, he never lets you leave him unsatisfied. It’s all just part of his game. He wants you riled up and desperate for him all so he can make you cum over and over on his dick. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man is always running his mouth, no matter where you are or what you’re doing. He’s got some of the best dirty talk you’ve ever heard. Honestly he should win an award. 

Soaking wet fo’ me and I ain’t even touch you yet? Look at you, you’re literally dripping. Need someone to rough you up tonight, huh? You gon’ walk around with my cum leakin’ out of you for the rest of the day, little girl. I hope everyone sees it dripping out of you so they know who you belong to.  You spoiled as hell, girl. How many times I let you cum now? And you still want more? Greedy fucking slut. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He might be freaky as hell, but when you aren’t fucking like bunnies and are just spending time together, he’s really the goofiest, sweetest guy. He loves to spoil you with gifts: expensive jewelry, the finest champagne, new shoes, whatever you want.

Everything the two of you do is consensual and he won’t do anything unless he’s 100% sure you’re down for it. He’s had you repeat your safeword a hundred times back to him just so he can make sure you know it. As much as he loves taking risks and fucking you in public, he would never pressure you to do something you don’t want to do. He’s always so sweet about it, kissing all over your face just to make you laugh, giving you whatever you want or need from him. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long and thick, his cock drives you fucking crazy. You’re obsessed with the feeling of it splitting you open in the best ways possible, the thickness of it making your eyes roll back into your head as your body struggles to adjust to his massive size. And he fucks you so good with it too, hitting your G-spot with devastating accuracy with each powerful thrust. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s turned on all the time when he’s around you. Literally 24/7 like some kind of horny teenager. You tried to tease him about it but he’s too shameless to be embarrassed. 

Baby girl, look at what you’re doing to me. Fuck, you gon’ make me jizz in my pants like a goddamn teenager. Come on, let’s find that dark corner backstage again so I can bend that perky little ass over. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You don’t know this, but he waits until he hears your soft snores before he even thinks about falling asleep. No matter how tired he is, he waits, big arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against your forehead as he murmurs sweet nothings to lull you into slumber.

[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Steve Harrington made him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily how loud the guy was. Eddie could understand the need to fill a room up. He could vaguely remember a quieter pre-pubescent Harrington before his dramatic transformation, dressed in tiny polos and khakis and halfheartedly kicking around a soccer ball. Now, his entire wardrobe consisted solely of black and red accented with flashy gold rings. The thick combat boots he wore constantly made him tower over everyone else, and the ever-growing collection of tattoos scattered on his body thoroughly scandalized each and every teacher. What they all meant was a perennial topic of discussion amongst the student body.

A voice echoed down from one of the boulders: “Oh hey, look who showed up, it’s Eddie Munson himself! Heard from your sidekick Hagan you’re the reason Hawkins is going to States.”

Steve was stretched out, lounging on the top of the rock, a pair of drumsticks held loosely in one hand.

“Yup, we are. First time in five years actually.” The state championships. There would be college recruiters there, and with them the promise of scholarships that’d get him out of this town. Somewhere far away from the looming threat of the plant bending his back prematurely like it had Wayne’s. Somewhere no one had heard the name of Al Munson.

“Well then.” Steve practically purred as he smoothly jumped down to the ground. He gave his drumsticks a twirl before stashing them in his pocket. “You sure got ‘em, didn’t you Tiger.”

Yeah, there it was. Seemed like sometimes, Harrington could see right through him, like he knew about how his thoughts occasionally strayed to—nope.

Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep his face neutral. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you know it’s polite to thank someone when they compliment you?” Steve’s eyes sparkled with amusement. The fucker was toying with him. Worse, he was enjoying it.

Summoning every ounce of cockiness he possessed, Eddie stood up straight. Sure, this close Harrington had several inches on him, but it didn’t matter. Only one of them could throw the party of the year, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the unpopular weirdo in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be the one thanking me? I let you sell your shit at my party.”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you.” Steve smirked. “Tell me Munson, what’s stopping me from taking my goodies to, say, the basketball team’s next rager and skipping out on your little get together entirely? Don’t have to dirty my shoes at their parties. They choose to host at a house.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Hey fuck you man, not all of us have—”

“Didn’t say I minded,” Steve plowed on, interrupting him. “Maybe I like the fresh air and the…view. Just like to enjoy them peacefully.” He stood there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

Eddie could feel his face flushing but he held his ground. “Never stopped you from helping yourself to our beer.”

“Free shitty beer, just what I look forward to.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I gotta say, wasn’t really expecting you to come here. Don’t you usually send someone else to get your fix?”

Eddie shrugged. “Needed a change. And we both know you overcharge Tommy.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Steve barked out a laugh. “But he deserves the asshole tax. Just weed for you tonight? There’s all kinds of ways to unwind if your usual methods are leaving you…unsatisfied there Munson.”

Vividly, Eddie was reminded of the graffiti scribbled on the walls above the urinals near the gym: Score a touchdown, then score with SH. More often than not, Steve could be found spectating the games, quietly dealing underneath the bleachers. On occasion, one girl or another could be seen emerging from underneath and brushing dirt off her skirt. But there was that other rumor, one that no guy would ever admit to having personal experience with. That if you won, Harrington would give anyone weed for free if they got on their knees for him and—woah there. What was wrong with him tonight?

“Th-think the weed is jus’ fine, ain’t lookin’ for much else.” he stammered out. Shit, why did his accent have to slip now of all times? “I mean, weed is all I need. Those fucking pricks from Greencastle got under my skin.” Assholes thought they were so big, mocking his out of style sneakers. Those shoes hadn't stopped him from shaving half a second off the regional record, but he couldn't help but still feel the barbs from their insults lodged under his skin, festering.

Steve cocked his head as he stared at Eddie with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he broke into a disarming smile. Eddie couldn’t remember ever seeing Steve sincerely express happiness, at least not from this distance. He would have remembered how prett—how his eyes lit up.

“I’m in a band you know. Pierced Scepter. We play down at this shitty dive bar and yeah, usually it’s a crowd of four drunks and the bartender, but it doesn’t matter. Being on any stage is…fuck it’s awesome. But sometimes it’s a little too much to just pack it all up right after. So I come out here to scream my head off, get it all out. Better off terrorizing the birds than picking fights when my parents are around.” Steve unconsciously rubbed his palm as he laughed humorlessly. “Saves on the screaming matches at home and the. Well.”

“Didn’t realize rich folks got their own hands dirty like that.” Carol’s parents had left the task of punishment to her nanny, preferring to swoop in with carrots after the stick had been administered.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure my dad would say something about how ‘real men are responsible for disciplining their kids so they don’t get soft.’ Though what he considers ‘soft’ changes a lot based on his mood. And whether he’s wearing a belt or suspenders that day.”

“G-d, who knew our dads have something in common then?” Eddie snorted. “Never could keep my old man happy, was always doing something wrong. He took the belt to me so often in third grade I barely could sit down the whole year.” His first time in third grade anyway, the one before he was whisked away to the safe haven of Wayne’s trailer.

“And…I have absolutely no idea why I told you that.” He barely talked about his dad to Tommy and Carol for crying out loud. On visitor’s days he always made up some lie about why he and Wayne were driving close to the state penitentiary.

Steve let out a weird little braying bark of a laugh and shuffled his feet. “Right, you didn’t come here to cry over our daddy issues. Gimme a sec to get your stuff.” Steve reached behind to grab the lunchbox he carried his goods around in. As he did, his jacket slid open enough to show the exposed line of his clavicle above the low-cut collar of his tee. Eddie swallowed hard. Against his will, his eyes dipped lower, noticing a design over the top of his pec in black ink. Oh, a new tattoo.

Eddie squinted trying to make out what it was. “It’s been a while since you gave O’Donnell a reason to lecture us on the ‘decaying morality of the modern day.’ Is that a two headed monkey?”

Delight flickered over Steve’s face. “This? Yeah, it’s new. Supposed to be Demogorgon, the ‘Prince of Demons.’” At Eddie’s blank look he chuckled. “He’s a monster from Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the fantasy game we play in Hellfire Club. It was the final battle of a months long campaign and our characters were trying to escape Demogorgon’s lair. Most of the party was close to death, but at a chokepoint, my character took a last stand and gave the others enough time to escape. Everyone else got out, even if the bastard got me in the end. So, I got this as a tribute to my character's sacrifice.”

Eddie spoke without thinking. “Oh, that’s kind of similar to what Gandalf did: facing off against the Balrog to save the rest of the Fellowship.”

Forget fleeting glimpses of real smiles. The look of surprise Steve gave him was almost comically out of place on his face. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“While ago, yeah. The Hobbit too.” Back when he first moved in with Wayne, the man had found an absolutely beautiful illustrated set at a rummage sale. Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how excited he’d been to get his first real present ever. “Spent a whole summer running around during the day, then staying up way too late reading all night. My uncle had to confiscate my flashlight eventually.”

A snort from Steve jolted Eddie out of his memories as he realized who he was talking to. “Don’t tell anyone that Harrington, or else,” he ordered as he flushed for the second time that evening, “The rest of your dorky club of nerds better not start bothering me in the hallway just because I’ve read Tolkien. Not going to step in to save them if they forget their place.”

Steve’s expression shuttered as he stood upright. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with the rest of your jock buddies.” Eddie was taken aback by the bitterness in Steve’s voice. “They might explode if you admit to having interests beyond banging chicks, sports magazines, and beer. Your secret’s safe with me. After all, who’s going to believe the Freakshow? Here.” He shoved a baggie in Eddie’s face. “That should be enough for about a week. Now get lost before I double the price.”

Eddie opened his mouth to apologize. But the artificial sneer on Steve’s face made him lose his nerve. He just held out his money as he snatched away the weed. “Thanks, uh, have a good night Harrington. Help yourself to something from the kegs.” He almost made it to the edge of the trees before Steve’s voice called out to him: “Hey, Munson!” 

He froze and turned. Steve had clambered back onto Skull Rock, moonlight and shadows making him look otherworldly and malevolent, towering over the clearing. “Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else. But, if you need more help…unwinding, well. You know where to find me.” That knowing smirk was firmly fixed back in place on his face. 

Eddie couldn’t help it. He finally gave into his impulses and ran.

He didn’t think about those plush lips drawn back into a genuine smile as he quickly navigated back to the party. He didn’t think about those amused eyes seeing right through him as he knocked back a few cups of beer and danced a little with anyone and no one. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about that tattoo surrounded by chest hair as he staggered home to an empty trailer and collapsed into his bed.

“You look so good there, kneeling for me Eddie.” Steve looms over him, those ringed hands on his hips. Eddie realizes he’s naked in the clearing and flushes with embarrassment. When did he take off his clothes?

Any thoughts on how he ended up here are derailed when the wind caresses his body. Oh. Tendrils of air race over his exposed chest and glide over his heavy balls and dripping cock. 

“And look how much you’re enjoying it too.” He’s never been this turned on in his life, and it’s all because of Steve. All for Steve. He’s powerless to prevent a moan from falling out of his mouth. 

“You act so big at school, like you’re the top of the food chain yeah? A real king of the jungle. But you and me, we know better. You’re not a scary tiger at all are you. No, you’re just a cute little kitten.”

Eddie can’t help but whine as he spreads himself wider in invitation.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that.” Steve crooks a finger and gestures for Eddie to follow him. “Come on kitten.” Eddie begins to get up, his legs tingling with pins and needles.

“Mhm, no. I like you better down there. In fact, I think you should crawl.”

He shudders but obeys the sound of that voice, would do anything for it. He stays on all fours as the path unwinds before them, until they come to a door. Eddie moves as fast as he can to follow Steve through, tumbling into the void within. He flails, plummeting until a familiar wax-polished wood rushes up to meet his palms. Eddie doesn’t dare get up from his hands and knees as he lifts his head but-

The gym is filled to the brim. 

Their classmates sit silently, blank looks on their faces as they stare. They’re waiting for something to happen. White hot shame courses through his veins as he desperately tries to cover up.

The voice cuts smoothly through the haze of his embarrassment: “Look at them kitten, they’re all waiting for a show. Let’s give one to them.”

Steve nudges him onto his back. He grabs his wrists and pulls them away from his body, exposing Eddie to the crowd. No! His face is on fire as he tries to fight it, but he can’t seem to break free, his strength sapped away. Steve tightens his hold on his wrists.

“Settle down Eddie, let them see you. You love this.”

He knows Steve is right. He can’t hide how hard his aching cock is, slapping against his belly as he squirms. But he can’t help it, they’ll all know. Faint whispers drift down from the stands as the crowd watches him struggle.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” he begs, but the words get caught in his choked up throat.

“I think you’ve forgotten your place. Maybe you need a reminder that you can’t hide, not from me.”

Steve hauls him up and easily slings him over a shoulder. Eddie lays there limply, frozen and whimpering. He’s unceremoniously dumped on top of a teacher’s desk right at the center line.  Hands come up to squeeze at his nipples, hard. Just the way he does when he’s alone. His cock twitches and drools even more from the groping. 

Eddie blinks, and suddenly the bleachers are that much closer.

“Be happy kitten, all the attention is on you! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Oh G-d. Every eye is fixed on him, the buzzing of interest growing louder.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” He shouts as loud as he can but the words come out muted and garbled.

Steve barks out a cruel laugh. “God, you’re pathetic. But then you’ve always been so good at lying to yourself haven’t you? You were the one who kissed Tommy, not the other way around. But when he went in for more, you pushed him off and ran away.”

Through the blur of tears, he can just make out Tommy’s face in the crowd, wearing the same accusatory and hurt look he had two years ago.

Steve leans down to nibble at his ear. “And,” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. “Let’s not forget how in the back of your head you imagine me shoving you against a locker and making you take it. Or sometimes, I threaten you with my knife a little out in the woods, yeah?”

Without warning, Eddie is manhandled over Steve’s lap. “Good news, guess today’s your lucky day kitten. I’m going to make you take it until you admit to everyone what you really want.”

SMACK!

The first slap to his ass sounds loudly, echoing around the gym. Eddie nearly swallows his tongue trying to keep quiet. The spectators in the stands let out a gasp for him.

But Steve doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until Eddie feels like his ass is on fire.

He finds himself pleading for Steve to have mercy, slipping back into the accent he tries so hard to keep a lid on normally.

“Ha, there he is, finally. You can dress yourself up in a varsity jacket all you want, but we all know what you really are. Just a piece of trailer trash. You can’t run from this you dumb hick. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t. “Fine, then take your punishment.”

Smack after smack rains down on his ass. The pain builds and builds, and the crowd gets louder and louder. But underneath the humiliation, he remains hard and grows even more desperate. Every slap sends him thrusting, his cock trapped between Steve’s muscular thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ha! And you jocks call me the freak. You’re the one humping my leg and yowling like you’re in heat. Pain turn you on kitten?”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge. 

He cums to the sound of cheers.

Eddie woke with a jolt and a gasp, his whole body pulsing in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. 

Trembling, he curled up into a ball and let the tears fall. This was nothing, just a passing thought his brain had gotten attached to. All he had to do was survive the year, and then he could be finally free of Hawkins, and the living ghosts that haunted him.

If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.

Two weeks later, Eddie woke with a fuzzy head and even fuzzier memories of the night before, vaguely remembering a ringed hand stroking his hair. On his nightstand was a glass of water, some Tylenol, and a note from SH telling him to take it easy. 

After that his dreams changed. Sometimes he wasn’t humiliated at all, and those tattooed arms kept him safe and cared for. It felt worse almost, to have his subconscious offer up such happiness, only to snatch it away when he woke to an empty bed. He didn’t dare spend the night in the arms of a girl at her house, worried he’d reveal himself for the freak he was.

A full month of torment and countless hours of lost slumber later, Eddie finally had had enough. He grabbed his keys and tore off in the direction of Steve's house, praying that Carol wouldn't see his van in her neighbor's driveway at this time of night.

As he rang the doorbell, he didn’t know what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t the sight of a sleep rumpled Steve answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Somehow, seeing his bare hands felt more intimate than the lack of shirt did.

“Munson? Gave me a heart attack, thought my parents were back a day early. What are you—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted, wide-eyed and feeling slightly crazed. “Can we talk?”

Ao3 link

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

[ok555ficideas]

Okay, I'm on the roll with Neil's bounds with his friends so I should add Kevin to the mix as well.

(Neil has amnesia here)

When he entered the court he saw Kevin firing the set up balls in the direction of the goal. Every single one of them landed in the same exact spot. 

Before he even decided to speak he heard himself saying. “I want that.”

Kevin turned around and looked at him. “Abby let you practice?”

Neil nodded and Kevin made his way to him. “You have to take it easy. No trying to overdo yourself or you’ll be useless in July.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a waste of space.” He said with a wave of his hand. 

Kevin tilted his head at him in confusion. “I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you meant. Don’t worry, I know how you think of me. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to practice, so let’s get to it.”

Kevin let out a frustrated sigh at that. “I hate this.” Neil looked confused so he continued. “I hate that you don’t remember.”

“Listen, I know that not remembering all the drills is an inconvenience to you, believe me I hate it too, but I’m going to learn them again. I did once before so it will probably be easier the second time around. Now quit your whining and actually help me remember them instead of just standing there and b*tching like the drama queen that you are.” 

Neil was prepared for Kevin to yell at him, to throw him out of the court or even threaten him with throwing him out the team all together. What he wasn’t prepared for was the sad expression he saw when Kevin looked at him. It was disorientating. Kevin looked like he was about to cry and Neil didn’t know what to do with that sight. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Kevin said slowly with a slightly strained voice. “I hate that you don't remember me.”

That confused Neil even more. “I do remember you.” He said slowly.

Kevin let out a frustrated sigh. “No,” he said, “you don’t, not really. You remember me as this exy-obsessed a$$hole.”

Neil raised his brow at that and Kevin continued. “Okay, that didn’t really change, but-” He started to get even more flustered by the look of him. “So are you!” He said pointing an accusatory finger at Neil. “We both are, that’s our thing, you know. We are asholes and we love exy and-” He trailed off.

They stood in silence for a minute, before Neil managed to gather his thoughts and say something that sounded ridiculous, but seemed like the only reasonable explanation. “Kevin, are we,” he said slowly, not believing that he was going to actually say the next word out loud, “friends?”

Kevin looked at him and practically screamed the next word with triumph. “Yes!” 

“Huh, that’s-” It was Neil’s turn to be a little frustrated. 

He tried to scratch his brain for some clues that what Kevin was saying was true.

“Every night.” He whispered after a long moment of searching. Kevin looked at him confused so he continued. “I asked you once if you would still teach me and you said ‘every night’.”

“Yes.” Kevin said, but didn’t elaborate.

“You promised to teach me even though we both thought,” Neil had to pause, because he didn’t actually know what the end of that sentence was.

“We both thought you were going to be de*d by the end of the season.” Kevin supplied the answer.

That was it. They both knew that it was pointless, but yet Kevin promised to practice with Neil every night. 

“I didn’t d*e, though.” He said with relief. 

Even though he knew that all of the things already happened and he came out of them on top, sometimes he was still scared and it was nice to remind himself that he survived. 

“You didn’t d*e and you are going to be Court.” Kevin said with such conviction Neil instantly believed him. 

Without realizing he put his hand on his cheek to the place where his skin was now burned, but he knew that for a breath time that spot was painted with a tattoo.

Kevin shook his head. “No, not his Court. He doesn’t matter, not anymore.” Hearing those words from Kevin filled him with excitement. “We are going to get everything we deserve, Neil and it’s not going to be because of him. It will be because of us.”

Neil nodded and put his hand down. He smiled at Kevin and gripped his racket with determination. “Then you better start teaching me those drills again.”

“You are going to pick them up in no time. Your body remembers way more than your mind does.”

That was true, but Neil wasn’t sure how Kevin knew that.

Kevin looked at him and his next words filled Neil with anger. “You pick Andrew to shreds with your words, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are more relaxed with him in the room than any other time.”

“F*ck off” Neil gritted through his teeth and went to warn himself up accompanied by Kevin’s quiet laughter. 

[yanderedbdimagines]

Hi! I wonder if you could do a scenario of the Trapper where their obsession somehow ended up in their world through the video game? Bonus points if the Entity is surprised and doesn’t know what to do with them since they made the game feel different somehow and put them alone in a special map, only to realize that the Trapper started to act different the moment the obsession came in the game if that makes sense!

--------------------------

Sorry for the long wait!

Truthfully, I really like the idea and the scenario is a bit longer than what I have expected because of that. I do hope that you’ll enjoy what I have written here. It’ll be split into 2 parts so that it’s a bit more readable.

--------------------------

Part 1 – Part 2

The Trapper

I-It can’t be…

The vision right in front of you… It’s an exact replica of the campfire which portrays as Dead by Daylight’s main menu…

But…

Where are the survivors?

And more importantly…

Where’s the killer?

A cold wind sweeps past your body and the orange flames of the bonfire grow smaller and smaller until it was nothing more but a pile of burning embers and small wisps of black smoke which are quickly being whisked away by the sudden airflow.

You try to peer over your lifted arm, but complete darkness suddenly consumes your very eyesight before you could do so.

The ground underneath your feet shifts and the winds are growing even colder and stronger than before as it lashes around your shivering form. Then, the smell of rusting metal and rotting wood attack your flaring nostrils as you try to look around warily with [E/C] eyes adjusting to the darkness.

What just happened…?

You proceed to stare at a spot directly in front you.

A storehouse? It looks oh so very familiar…

You carefully walk your way towards it as your gaze is set firmly upon a shadow that’s moving from behind a partly shattered window.

What? Is that the Groaning Storehouse…?

But then, you see some sort of movement brush past the side of your vision before its source collides with you and knocks you towards the ground.

You tried to look up and yell out in shock as you felt the sudden weight pining your body firmly to the ground, but a medium-sized hand quickly covers your mouth and forces your cheek against the flattened greenery- demanding for you to remain silent.

You quickly come to understand why this person does what he or she’s currently doing.

Heavy footsteps approach, the associated vibrations rippling through the earth. Muffled huffing and puffing can be heard also as a huge being stomps by.

You can see by the shape that it’s a large man…

The male suddenly stops within his tracks. A dim and dark red light embodies as the man’s eyesight, the cone cutting through the area in front of him as he inspects his misty surroundings.

With a grunt, he moves again and slowly disappears out of sight. Your heartbeat slows and the prickle of the skin disappears along with it.

“Huh. The Trapper. And right on his home turf as well. Anyhow, what the hell was that [Y/N]? Did you already forget what this game’s all about?” A familiar redhead huffs at you as she climbs off of your back, giving you the space to stand up.

“H-How’d yo-?” “Forget it. Let’s talk about that later. For now, follow me. I’ll explain some things along the way before you get us all killed,” Meg cuts you off, gesturing for you to stay low before moving away from the patch of grass.

You do what she asks of you with a small frown decorating your face.

“I’ll take you to a generator and teach you the basics on how to repair one. Also, as you most likely already know, we’re up against the Trapper, so please be careful on where you place your feet from here on out.”

She glances at you to see if you’re listening. You confirm her desired answer by giving her the nod of your head. She smiles at this before focusing on the path ahead.

~Small time skip~

After weaving past trees, boxes and crumbling walls alike while also avoiding the killer’s gaze and some of his activated bear traps, the two of you finally reach a generator. At this point in time, she already explained the ins and outs of repairing the machine; also mentioning that everything else remains the same like in the actual video game, but from a different point of view.

Just as she was busy showing you the last set of ropes, the sounds of two generators springing to life simultaneously reach your very ears.

“You know how to repair these generators now [Y/N], so I’ll leave you be for a bit. I have the feeling that either Jake or Dwight will be in need of my help soon enough. Oh, and be careful once you finish this generator. It’ll surely attract some unwanted attention.”

And with that, she scurries away- leaving you to your own demise. Of course, you absolutely do not mind it. In fact, what she’s currently planning to do is probably far more important than to babysit you any longer, seen the situation the both of you are in.

You connect wire after wire and fasten some bolts back into place by hand while being careful with the process.

After tinkering for another few seconds, the generator rumbles and splutters to life. The metal piping roars and shakes because of the working engine build behind it. The industrial lamps above you flicker unsteadily before a white synthetic light quickly shines down upon you as well as the loud machine.

You quickly dart to the side in order to distance yourself away from the rumbling object as far and as fast as you can before scurrying alongside the red bricked walls and some more industrial boxes.

Your heartbeat suddenly jumps up after rounding a corner and with the hairs on your neck rising. With widening eyes, you duck down low and into the grass while trying to blend further into the shadows. You scan the surroundings through the hasty swipe of the eye, but no matter where you look, you couldn’t see any type of movement which could alert you of the killer’s presence or his approximate location.

You then glance at the wall next to you, new-found fright jolting through your stiffening body once you see who’s staring down at you from behind the missing window.

The Trapper is at least 6’7 feet in height; the very first thing which you’ve noticed about him. But now that you see him up close and in detail, in *real life* not to mention, you literally feel your heart sink deep down into your twisting stomach.

Countless of scars and cuts alike, both old and fresh, litter over most parts of the visible skin. Sharp pieces of metal seem to have penetrated from underneath the cracked skin of his blade-wielding arm and his green, rubber-based overalls are mostly held up by the steel hooks that are lodged into his right shoulder.

But his face, or rather his original mask, is what has caused you to bolt away in fear the second your eyes rolled over it. It has two dark pits for eyes and a toothy grin carved into the unknown material- the teeth sharp and fear-inducing. The mask and three other pieces which protect the back of the man’s head are being held up by rusty metal wiring.

You hear him give chase rather quickly as you sprint through the field of boxes without a clear destination in mind. This is pretty noticeable since your movements are as jerky and sudden changing like those of a gazelle’s.

You suddenly see a red haze covering most of your shadow, forcing you to suddenly change your direction to the side. The swoosh of a colossal hand whizzing past your peripheral view takes your breath along with it as a cold sweat breaks out over every part of your body.

‘Think [Y/N], THINK! AND CALM DOWN! I’m only bringing myself and the others in danger if I keep running around like this!’ you scream internally to yourself while jumping over a bear trap at the last possible second. You didn’t even need to look behind yourself to know where the killer is, seen with the heavy thumps that are hot on your trail again.

But after five minutes’ worth of running around, duking him by sliding over pallets and running in circles around large objects while barely missing a few more of his grabs(something which genuinely confuses you), you’ve sadly ran yourself into a corner… Literally.

Out of breath and turning around within your step, you back away against the cold gray wall at the outskirts of the terrain as much as you possibly could with the uneven bricks digging into your clothed skin. From an outside perspective, one would think that you’re genuinely trying to merge with the masonry stones and rid yourself from the dire situation you’re currently in.

He takes another step in your direction with the knuckles of both his hands turning white. By the low grunts and frightening growls echoing from behind the mask, you could tell that he’s very pissed off with you, let alone frustrated.

He suddenly lurches forward with his free hand aiming for your neck.

But before the digits of his fingers could actually touch even an inch of your sweaty skin, something loud exploded and crackled repeatedly a few feet from behind the Trapper- distracting him for a mere moment.

It was still enough time for you to jump between his legs as an uncommon means of escape. A raspy hiss is the reaction to your sudden and very surprising plan of action.

You run through the mist and towards another side of the arena where one of the two escape doors is located.

From the corner of your eye, you see another survivor waving their arms around frantically from within the storehouse and yelling something at you from the top of their lungs.

But with their warnings falling on deaf ears, you leap over a pallet before something ice-cold suddenly snaps around your ankle. The intense pain which follows is unimaginable as a loud cry of pain escapes your throat.

Your trembling hands claw at the metal based trap, eventually managing to pry it open without damaging your hands somehow and successfully freeing your bleeding lower leg. Sadly, you quickly noticed that it’s most likely broken from the moment you tried to balance even a bit of your weight on it. You knew from then on that you’re forced to crawl your way through the terrain instead. How are you going to stay out of the killer’s grasp now? That scream alone was enough to sharpen everyone’s ears who were even remotely close to you.

The sudden blare of an alarm emits through the entire area and beyond- informing everyone that enough of the necessary generators have been repaired.

Deciding to make the best out of it, you hastily bandage the terrible wound shut with a piece of your shirt in order to avoid yourself from bleeding out and make a blood trail for the Trapper to follow. After that, you worm your way towards a spot closest to a tattered wall before your squinting eyes at the exit gate which quickly came into your line of sight.

Jake’s already there as his hand is holding down the lever, the mechanics within the door clicking and shifting hap hazardously as he does. Dwight is standing watch from a reasonable distance. His eyes roam around the area, but they widen in content surprise once he sees you lay low and hidden behind a stacked pile of reddish brown bricks.

Still, he signals for you to remain where you are before jumping out of sight with a flashlight now clenched between his fingers. You do what he asks of you while biting down onto your arm- trying to prevent any more of the pained groans from leaving your ragged-breathing chest.

The terror radius peaks up again as the Trapper’s heading straight towards Jake, who barely managed to open up the massive door with a loud screech.

He sprints through the crack made by the opening gate with the killer close behind as they both disappear out of your line of sight.

Your throat tightens a bit as you fear for Jake’s safety, but after the killer came back through empty-handed and with no extra blood on his overalls, you heave out a silent sigh of relieve.

After he stomps away with another frustrated growl pushing through the mouth of his mask, it’s your turn to crawl your way to the by now fully-opened exit.

Your arms have slowly grown tired as you round the exit’s corner, soon staring at an endless field of dried grass. Still, you didn’t detain your movements in the slightest as you tiger your way towards it- feeling drawn to the derelict vegetation.

One blur, what you quickly recognize as Meg, suddenly dashes by and disappears into the said vegetation all the whilst clutching her heavily bleeding shoulder.

“[Y/N]! Crawl faster! You’re very close to getting away!” Dwight cheers you on while sprinting past you as well, fright clearly evident within his pitched voice.

The adrenaline and your determination to survive kicks back up even further as you sense the Trapper coming closer and closer to you by the second while you follow the trail of the other survivors.

He’s eventually so close to you in fact, that you already see the red light gushing over you completely and onto your direct surroundings.

But…

A few more seconds have ticked by and you still haven’t felt the masked man’s favored weapon plunging through any part of your body nor his hand grabbing for any of your limbs yet.

You stop moving towards your freedom as the breath in your throat halts momentarily, together with your grunts of pain as you glance back up with puzzlement gracing your features. The Trapper’s masked face is directed to you as his body stands large and menacing.

‘Why’d he stop moving? And why’s he just standing there?’

As if haven read your thoughts, he slams his handmade cleaver down in your general direction- a thwack sounding throughout the air quickly afterwards as the weapon rebounds from an unseen force.

Oh right…

You still whimper slightly at this while flinching away instinctively- the fear within your body rising back up to its previous level.

Yet, you didn’t look away from him… You couldn’t look away…

Suddenly, you feel the bones within your leg snap back into place, followed by the flesh around molding back together and the torn skin growing and fastening back into its original state. The only reminder of your past injury is the numb pain that is still throbbing it’s soft tune throughout your lower leg.

You quickly tear away your gaze from him as you throw yourself off the ground and bolt straight into the open fields without looking back.

~Time-skip~

You’ve ran and ran until you could swear that your legs could break off at any second.

You’ve never been this scared in your life before and you never have been chased by one of the slashers who you like to play the most as within Dead by Daylight…

Of course, you’ve never been stuck in a video game before even to begin with…

A strange light suddenly flickers at the base of the horizon. The orange light grows as the distance between you and the source shortens.

And before you know it, you’re standing before a familiar stack of burning wood with a face which already portrays the anxiousness that’s currently haunting your very insides. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the shock of the overall situation seems to be catching up with you as your legs suddenly give out from underneath you- forcing you to tumble towards the by mulch- and leaf ridden ground.

You proceed by covering your mouth with a shaky hand as you feel a sob racking your frame. Crocodile tears come in suit as they stream down your warm cheeks and leave behind salty trails of warm water. Bile then burns your hitching throat- threatening to spill over.

Swallowing and with a cold sweat numbing the skin, you let the rest of your body fall to the side before taking on a fetal position. You’re tired, scared and with a mind in shambles.

A game you enjoyed so, the uniqueness of it which had often got you crawling back for more after a hard day at work/school, is currently your most horrendous nightmare.

Your main hand subconsciously travels to the leg which was injured just a few minutes ago and remember how it healed completely after you’ve successfully exited the trial’s grounds.

The game’s natural laws seems vastly different than within the real world, and it somehow even applies to you as well now.

It’s too much to take in right now- perhaps to the point that you believe that this all is just one big luscious dream. And even then, the time that you’re in a state of complete consciousness has already long since surpassed the average amount of time you normally would have when stuck in such a dream…

An hour passes…

A flicker of determination eventually enlightens within your [E/C] eyes and your hands bawl into fists before a growl escapes you. No… There’s no time to lay here any longer- looking pathetic. There has to be a way to return to the real world. And you’ll do anything to find that way out of here...

[mizunetzu]

ok fine i'll bite

what if u made a tamaki amajiki fic but instead he's actually the UA traitor 😳 and he's actually a yandere and his target's a gender neutral 3rd year 😳 omg that would be pog

haha jk.. unless?

don't bully me pls i haven't done this b4

Miss miss miss sylviaaa 😀😀😀 I lov u miss sylviaaa

——————

Tamaki x reader - My Darling’s Pen

⚠️warnings - yandere Tamaki, stalking

Pronouns - genderneutral, they/them

——————

All it took was a pen.

A pen that dropped from their desk, one that rolled over and knocked against the side of Tamaki’s shoe. He hadn’t noticed them at all for the whole school year, but the moment they tapped him on the arm and said,

“Sorry-can you get that pen for me? It’s near your foot.”

With one of the warmest smiles he’d ever seen, he was smitten. Their voice was tantalizing, sweet and not too loud, and it graced Tamaki’s ears like wedding bells. He didn’t know he was staring until the beauty that was this person waved their hand infront of his face awkwardly.

“...Are you ok?” Their voice was full of worry. Worry for him. Tamaki’s heart swelled with the notion that he was being worried over by someone as...lovely as them.

He nodded shyly, and bent down to swoop up the pen in his hand. Their hand brushed against his when they reached over and grabbed it, and he could still feel his hand tingling even hours after. The person smiled another one of those heart clenching smiles, and looked back down at their paper.

Tamaki couldn’t focus the rest of the period.

——

When the bell dismissing them for lunch rang, and students started getting up from their seats, he once again noticed that person walking past him, talking to their friends. He wished he was part of their friend group. He didn’t know why, but that person just seemed so...cool.

The same pen from earlier bobbed from a hole in their bag’s pocket, and Tamaki cursed himself for staring once more. The pen eventually slipped completely through the small rip in their bag. The pen tumbled onto the ground, and stopped in front of Tamaki.

He picked it up. Should he return it? He looked at the door. No one was there. He was the only person standing in the classroom. Tamaki considered giving it back to them when class ended, but he found himself slowly slipping the pen into his own pocket.

‘It’s a pen’, he thought. ‘Surely they won’t miss it. It’s...it’s a pen.’

He didn’t know why he wanted to keep it so much. It was just that. A pen. He had no use for it-he had tons of other pens that no one asked to borrow because he was too shy to talk to them. It was useless.

But he found himself sitting on his bed hours later, staring blankly at the ceiling while he admired the pen or clicked it once or twice.

It was just a pen...

——

Everyday, when Tamaki would open his pencil pouch, he’d have all these other pens and pencils to choose from, ones that probably wrote way better than that person’s pen, but every single time, his eyes would land on that pen he “found on the ground” and he’d use it.

Fidgeting with the pen after class, he couldn’t help but follow this mysterious pen dropper every single day out to lunch. He wasn’t a stalker, no! He was just...figuring out the right time to return the pen they dropped. The pen they dropped a week ago...

Tamaki saw the familiar mop of (H/c)-colored hair, running past him and to their group of friends that Tamaki just so happened to memorize. He stared at them without shame, until he heard one of them speak.

“Hey, (Y/n). It-it uh, looks like Tamaki-kun wants to talk to you there.” The friend pointed at him, but he only tensed up when their eyes drifted from their friends to him and him alone.

“Oh. Uh, that guy from the big three?”

The person, (Y/n), whispered to their friends. Tamaki’s heart swelled. They knew who he was. He felt a sense of pride. He was important enough to take up space in this beautiful person’s memory. He wanted to be more important, and maybe take up some more space like he never used to want before. He wanted attention when he never used to want attention before.

“...hello?” (Y/n) was in front of him now. They looked straight into Tamaki’s eyes, and Tamaki wanted to look away immediately. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure if he was just nervous like he normally is, or if it was something else. But still...

They smelled so good.

(Y/n) waved their hands in front of Tamaki’s eyes. He blinked, suddenly very aware of how he was lost in his own thoughts. He was about to apologize, and maybe turn to face the wall, until he heard (Y/n’s) lovely, lovely voice.

“You’re really shy, huh? Don’t worry, I can back up if you want me to.”

Their voice was gentle. So gentle, like something fuzzy tickling Tamaki’s nose. It made him want to crawl inside a locker and just breathe. It was heavenly. He wanted nothing more but to just...listen to this person’s kind voice.

“U-u-uh...it’s fi-ine...” Tamaki hated the way his voice was barely audible. It stood nothing against the kind, smooth, god-like voice (Y/n) graced him with. Still, (Y/n) smiled so, so warmly.

“Alright then. Did you need something?”

Oh. That’s right. The pen. He was going to return it. Tamaki began to reach into his pocket, when his hand stopped. He thought about it for a second, then let his hand rest flaccidly inside his pocket, shoving his other one in bashfully aswell.

“I-no...I was just-just staring off into space and I-I guess I was staring in y-y-your direction...”

It was a lie. A terrible one at that. So he didn’t understand why (Y/n) believed him, bid him goodbye with their angelic voice, and let him keep their wonderful pen. He didn’t understand why he didn’t return it either. He needed to...return it. But there was one thing he did know.

That beautiful angel that sat near him in class was named (Y/n).

——

Once you knew someone’s name, it was relatively easy to find out more about them.

For example, Tamaki knew their full name was (L/n) (Y/n), their favorite food was the cafeteria onigiri that lunch rush would package on the go, but specifically if it was left alone to sit for a few minutes to marinate, and he even knew the neighborhood where (Y/n) lived, and how long it took (Y/n) to walk from there to school. 14 minutes and 38 seconds not counting the times they go buy a snack from the convenience store. Though, he wished he knew their exact address.

That wasn’t it, however. Tamaki found himself ‘discovering’ more and more of (Y/n’s) items, whether it be a small keychain hanging off their backpack he purposely loosened with his scissors so it would fall off, or the strawberry scented chapstick that was sitting so enticingly on their desk when they left to the bathroom one day, Tamaki had them all. Nothing too important, though. Nothing that he knew (Y/n) would miss. Just pens and their old loose paper assignments that they threw away, mostly.

And it didn’t help that Tamaki stopped sitting with Mirio and Neijre at lunch, just to purposely sit at a lunch table near (Y/n’s) so he could hear their pretty voice once again. Not too close, but close enough to listen. When Mirio asked, Tamaki told him he just wasn’t feeling very well lately.

But that didn’t make him a stalker, right? He wasn’t overstepping any boundaries...he was just...finding the right opportunity to give back the pen he borrowed. Yeah. That’s it. The pen he borrowed that he actually didn’t borrow. He figured they’d want it back, even though he had countless other little trinkets in his possession, that once belonged to them.

No, no he wasn’t a stalker. He was trying to be a good person and return their pen.

——

Ok, maybe it was a bit of an obsession.

Most of his camera roll was filled with (Y/n). Pictures from their social media that Tamaki cropped so he could only see them (and not their stupid friends), pictures he nervously snuck during class or lunch, and even the occasional picture he took ‘passing by’ when (Y/n) was walking home.

He cherished all of them, even printing some out and building a small shrine with the items he stole. He didn’t want his parents to see, so he made sure it was in a box he could hide in his closet.

Once again, (Y/n) walked home from school like always. They took their normal route, as always. But this time, they walked alone. Tamaki was planning to sneak some more pictures—nothing too indecent because even he has some boundaries—but this time (Y/n) was alone.

‘Ah...!’ Tamaki shuffled through his bag, pulling out the small pencil pouch he bought purely filled with stuff ‘borrowed’ from (Y/n). He fished out the pen he’d been planning to return for a month now, and looked back at (Y/n). ‘Nows the perfect time...’

...But he wanted to keep the pen. It was his favorite pen. Even though he had countless other pens ‘borrowed’ from (Y/n), he couldn’t help but feel attached to this one. So he fished out another random pen from the pouch of (Y/n’s) things, before stopping again.

He didn’t wanna give up these either.

Instead, he zipped up the ‘(Y/n)’ pouch, grabbed his normal pencil pouch, and brought out one of his normal pens. It looked similar to one of the countless pens he took from (Y/n), so he supposed it would suffice. Wasn’t he such a nice person? Giving them a pen?

His poor heart started pumping when he jogged up to (Y/n). Some part of him wanted to just...keeping watching (Y/n) from a distance, but he knew he wanted more for a while now. He wanted to...talk to (Y/n). He wanted (Y/n) to talk to him. He wanted to crawl inside (Y/n’s) body and just be (Y/n).

“E-e-excuse me...?” Tamaki’s voice went dry as he touched (Y/n’s) shoulder. He wasn’t worthy of touching (Y/n’s) shoulder, yet like the horrible person he is, he did. He dirtied the perfect shoulder (Y/n) had. How disgusting of him.

“Yes?”

Tamaki fumbled and held up his pen. “You uh-you dropped this in class earlier...”

“...you sure? I mean,” (Y/n) took the pen, and their warm hand brushed against Tamaki’s fingers so gracefully. It sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted nothing more than to just collapse into (Y/n) and breathe in. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t using a pen today. But this looks like the brand I buy.”

“U-uh!” Tamaki broke into a cold sweat. “I saw it...drop...out of your bag.”

“Oh.” (Y/n) look at their bag, and at the small hole that was in its side pocket. “There’s a hole..that makes sense. Uh, thanks for returning my pen.”

(Y/n) smiled. Tamaki felt like he was going to die. He didn’t deserve someone so kind and beautiful and caring. Granted, no one did. Not even him.

“Are walking in this direction?” (Y/n) gestured ahead. Tamaki nodded, even though he knew very well his house was blocks away in the opposite direction. He soon found himself walking next to (Y/n) in silence.

He had (Y/n’s) attention. (Y/n) was walking next to him. It’s almost like they were dating already. That’s what lovers do, right? Walk next to eachother?

He wanted nothing more but to just breathe in the scent of (Y/n’s) hair. He wanted to worship (Y/n’s) fingers, he craved the bones in their body, he wanted to praise every single nerve and atom that belonged to (Y/n). He wanted (Y/n) so bad.

He was brought out of his trance when (Y/n) stopped at a crossroads. “My house is this way,” they said.

Tamaki shot back with a “Me too-!” Almost robotically. He wanted to see (Y/n’s) house...and maybe memorize their address. Not in a creepy way, though.

“Well...this is my house, I didn’t know you lived so near to me.”

“Y-yeah.” Tamaki watched as (Y/n) bid him farewell, with an angelic ‘thank you’, and walked off towards their house. Tamaki silently memorized his surroundings, every small flower and potted plant that belonged to the angel that was (Y/n), and finally wrote down (Y/n’s) address with their pen on his hand.

He didn’t know what he would do with this info, if he was honest. But just having it made him feel high.

——

Tamaki was going to do it.

Today was the day he would return the pen.

He thought about it for a while. He loved the pen, he never parted with it, but he needed an excuse to find a way to get closer to (Y/n). He’d say they dropped it out of their bag again and maybe offer to go out for ramen or something. He’d just leave out the part that (Y/n) dropped the pen more than 2 months ago.

Tamaki walked around the U.A. campus with the pen in his hand. He ran his fingers through the barrel of the pen. (Y/n) was no where to be found. They weren’t sitting with their friends like they normally did during lunch, so where could they be?

Tamaki was about to round a corner, when he heard voices talking from the other side. He stopped, about to turn on his heel and leave, when he heard angelic bells ringing. (Y/n’s) lovely voice talking to...whoever they were talking to.

“I-I like you, Hatsumada-kun!”

Tamaki went rigid against the wall. He loved hearing (Y/n’s) lovely voice 24/7, even recoding candid audios of (Y/n) answering questions in class or talking to their friends to listen to while he went to bed, so this was the first time he wished (Y/n) hadn’t said anything.

He was waiting for this Hatsumada guy to speak. Maybe he’d try to catch a glimpse of his face so he could—what was he saying? Intrusive thoughts began to flood his mind. He wanted to punch Hatsumada. He wanted to beat him up. He wanted to murder him.

“...I’m sorry, (L/n)-san. I don’t really see you that way.”

For some reason, Tamaki was even more angry than he would’ve been if Hatsumada had accepted their confession. He pursed his lips, and walked away as quickly as he could. His poor (Y/n), their feelings must be so hurt. How could he?

Tamaki long forgot the pen sitting in his hand, waiting to be returned to its rightful owner.

——

After the third tree came toppling down, Tamaki was beginning to think he’d get charged for property damage.

I mean, it was school property, and it was in the training grounds. Angrily whipping his tentacles around or bucking at trees with horse feet could qualify as ‘training’.

Tamaki was left huffing, glaring down angrily at the fallen, mangled tree. He’d never felt so angry before. He was usually a submissive, “avoid conflict-y”person, and he didn’t get angry much, but he felt so angry he could die.

His poor (Y/n). Having to get rejected by scum like that. But even if that pig had said ‘Yes’, he’d be equally as angry. His beloved (Y/n) didn’t deserve someone as undeserving as him. No one did. No one deserved (Y/n), not even himself.

Momentarily turning his tentacles back into his regular limbs, Tamaki sighed and curled up next to the fallen tree trunk. His hands were bloodied up, his knuckles peeling from when he started punching and slashing at tree before he decided to use his quirk. It was probably the first time he’d been so angry.

Tamaki leaned back against the trunk, laying down on the uncomfortable wood. What was happening to him? He felt so mad he could die. He couldn’t believe he was imagining trees as Hatsumada, as he brutally destroyed them one by one. That wasn’t the actions of a hero...

Rustling from two tall bushes caused Tamaki to shoot up, his tentacles shooting out from his back, and probably ripping his shirt up. He stood alert, his wide eyes searching sporadically through his dark bangs. Finally, a man, whom Tamaki was pretty sure wasn’t a teacher, appeared from the bushes, holding a cane and his free arm up.

“I come in peace, Tamaki Amajiki-san.”

The man had a stylish top hat on, and his face was masked with a flat, white mask with black trim. He had a long coat on, and dark gloves that made him look like a magician.

“W-who are you? This is private property-!”

The man kept walking towards Tamaki. “Are you angry, Tamaki-kun?”

“I-of course I’m mad! You’re trespassing, so I suggest you leave before I call-“

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about that boy. The one talking to that person you fancied.”

Tamaki went silent. He let his tentacles falter from their alert position, before suspiciously bringing them back up. “H-h-how do you know that! You stalker!”

“Frankly you’re one to call me a stalker.”

Tamaki broke into a cold sweat. He raised his fists defensively. “I-I’m not a-I’m not-“

“But you are, aren’t you? It’s fun to watch the people you love, isn’t it?” A girl grabbed Tamaki from behind by the shoulders, making him flinch as she smiled widely. “I love it too-I love it so much I want to see the person I love all covered in blood...”

The girl unhanded Tamaki, and stepping in front of him and standing next to the taller, poised man. “But they don’t understand our kind of love, do they? The heroes. They think the way I love people is wrong, and they would think the same for you...”

Tamaki pursed his lips. This was manipulation. They were trying to get into his head somehow, trying to appeal to him, trying to convince him that he was just like the scum they were...

...and it was working.

Tamaki said nothing, though his tightly clenched fists and hinged jaw told a different story. He loved (Y/n). He loved (Y/n) so much it made him crazy. He loved (Y/n) so much it made him want to murder Hatsumada. Simple as that. He was trying to convince himself he didn’t, but the sight of him all bloodied up and misshapen by Tamaki’s bare hands made him shiver.

“Y’know, people will call you a stalker for sure if they saw this.” The man was holding up Tamaki’s school bag, more importantly the scrapbook pasted with printed out photos and pressed objects of (Y/n) littered inside. The man flipped through the pages with care. “I, however, think it’s lovely that you admire someone so much you’d make a whole book dedicated to them. How romantic.”

He found himself agreeing. It was, wasn’t it? He cared so, so much, so how could it be weird or creepy or stalkerish? Tamaki shook his head, shaking the intrusive thoughts from his mind. “N-no! Put that back! Why are you here?!”

“We want to make a deal with you.”

“Me?” Tamaki snarled, backed up against a tree. He hardened his exterior in hope of masking his utter curiosity, especially after their understanding of his feelings for (Y/n). They understood.

“You see, learning information about U.A. is difficult when it’s such a prestigious school. But it would definitely be a lot easier if we had an...inside man feeding it to us.”

Tamaki’s eyes widened. “You want me to betray my school?”

“In Laymans terms, yes.”

“Now why would I ever-!”

“Because they don’t understand us. Once they find out you sneak pictures of this person from outside their window while they sleep, they label you a stalker for sure.” The girl held up Tamaki’s scrapbook, displaying hazy printed photos of (Y/n) through their bedroom window. “But us? We don’t judge. We understand. You just want to admire them, and love them the way you do and not be judged. I want that too.”

The man chimed in. “Your school is a judgmental, horrible place. So help us fix it, and join the LoV.”

Tamaki looked down at his feet. He continued. “You don’t need to join us physically. You may still attend U.A., and we will contact you occasionally, when we need information. And surely we will spare you from harm if we decide to attack, as well your little crush.”

Tamaki couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. Well, he also couldn’t believe how angry he got seeing someone being confessed to, or how obsessive his feelings for (Y/n) became. It was all new to him.

...So what was one thing more?

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it on one condition.”

His decision was based purely on feelings. Nothing of what he was saying was logical. It wasn’t morally correct. Still...

The man and the girl both smiled, looked at each other, and nodded. They turned back to Tamaki, giving him a look to go on.

“If I...when I decide to do something...a-and it makes a mess, or I need covering up in any way, promise you’ll clean up for me. Evidence and all.”

Was he really going to do this?

“Whatever you need, Tamaki-kun.”

He was.

The man tipped his hat, and the girl placed the book back in Tamaki’s hands. “We’ll be in touch. If you do anything heinous, we’ll be there to help aswell. Anything for our new traitor.”

Tamaki felt sick to his stomach.

“...y-you guys are crazy.”

“And you’re a lovesick stalker.”

“...I know.”

Tamaki watched as the two disappeared behind the brush. His knees buckled, as he sat back against the disfigured tree truck, and reached into his bag. He cradled his scrapbook as he fished out (Y/n’s) pen that he loved so much, and stroked it scantily. He huddled in on himself, pressing the pen to his cheek.

Soon.

Soon he’d return (Y/n’s) pen. Right after he murdered Hatsumada.

——————

If y’all didn’t know the man and the girl was mr compress and toga

-Mr. Mizunetzu

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Kenma Kozume || Kiss Kiss, Fall in Love 🍃

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | series m.list | hq tag | main blog ||

Of many reasons I love you here is one –Bird-Understander || C. Arnold

↠ A love story as told through kisses…

↠ Requested By: Nobody, I just had an ~i d e a~, Mr. Krabs ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW floofy-floof ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ Chronology: Pre and post time skip. ↠ CWs: Tetsuro Kuroo is his own warning tbh lmao. At least he’s using his powers of annoyance and scheming for good this time around. Other than that, we should be good, fam… ↠ No betas—we die like grammatically incorrect men here. ↠ Total WC: 6k~

Ngl—the first section is just a straight up oneshot lmfao.

Kenma is one of those characters that I don’t see as being too easy to get close to. Platonic relationships are hard enough to form and maintain with the dude, never mind romantic ones, so to get to such a point there needed to be a bit more background and yeah. Here we are. Enjoy the fruits of me being too deep in my own head/HCs, ig lmao…

((also it’s my first time writing for Kemmy so pls be gentle ;n;))

🍃 First Kiss

You, Always || WC: 3.3k~

“Alright, ____: truth or dare?”

There’s a predatory glint to Kuroo’s smile that you don’t quite trust—not that you really trust any of his smiles mind you, you’ve been friends far too long for that level of foolishness—but there’s something especially sinister about the way he’s eyeing you at the moment. This is why you pick the safest option allowed to you, ‘Truth’ (which, again, isn’t all that safe, but there’s no way in hell you’re going near any dares that this scheming asshole’s cooked up). Of course fucking off into the sunset is an option too, but honestly you’re afraid of what’ll happen to poor Kenma’s house if you leave an entire VBCs’ worth of teenaged boys alone without some semblance of supervision.

With your group being mostly comprised of second and third years, his parents had deemed you all old enough to be left alone for the day. A grave mistake on their part, truly.

Aside from yourself there isn’t a manager—senior, assistant, or otherwise—to be found, meaning the level of brain cells present in the room’s disproportionally low. The others not being here is unsurprising if unwanted; they were all smart enough to stay away which is why Kenma insisted that you had to come. “Risk prevention” he had fairly called it, and you being the magnanimous friend and overly giving soul that you are had agreed. That it meant that you would get to spend a whole afternoon with your best friend turned unwitting crush was just a questionable bonus.

Questionable because being around Kenma Kozume has become a precarious balancing act that you’re not sure you can keep up with anymore, not when you like him this much. So far you’ve been doing a decent job of it, but you’re sure that’s it’s only a matter of time before something gives you away–

Something like the fucking chemistry rooster’s overly invasive question.

Thankfully the object of your affection had recused himself from the game the very moment it was proposed, and has been tucked away in the corner with his 3DS ever since. The sounds emanating from the device paint his current obsession as the newest Fire Emblem game, and the furrow of his brow and rapid movements of his hands tells you that his attention does not extend itself beyond the world locked behind that tiny glass screen—thank the fucking gods.

Unfortunately for you, the overly tall boy besides you isn’t likewise preoccupied.

“What?” you say, voice deadpan as you give him the most unimpressed look you can muster.

“I said, do you want to kiss anyone in this room?”

Motherfucker. This asshole’s really doubling down, huh? Aloud, “The hell type of question is that, Kuroo?”

He cocks a brow at you, his feline eyes as sharp as ever. “The kind that you’re avoiding, clearly.” His lips slowly pull off into a shit-eating grin as he takes in your fidgeting hands and bouncing leg. “Not that it matters, really. You’re flustered as hell, so I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

Your reply comes in the form of twin middle fingers raised and thrust forward at the snickering group as a whole. Thankfully Yamamoto’s overly eager to get to his turn; he begs you very loudly for a dare, all too ready to do something stupid and you’re all too willing to oblige.

The game carries on without further incident after that—well ones involving your love life, anyway. At least two of the guys are gonna have stomachaches and poor Lev’s leg ends up getting pretty badly strained when he tries to get it behind his head, but that’s all par the course. Still, if you were smart you would’ve abandoned ship right after you’d gotten Tora to gag down that spoonful of cinnamon, cutting your losses and telling Kenma to keep hope alive, but with all of the ensuing idiocy it was easy to forget that the universe’s favorite conduit for antagonistic energy has you in his sights.

Kuroo grins his plot-y little grin as he watches you struggle to choose an option for the second time in an hour. You’re sure that if you pick truth again he’ll press for details on whom it is that you want to kiss despite knowing damn well that you have a thing for your mutual friend. In fact most everyone here knows about your crush except for said crush, and though having your innermost desires known to so many is its own special brand of torture, nobody has ever seemed intent on holding it over your head until now. You have no idea what Kuroo’s damage is, but at this rate you’re seriously rethinking the whole of your friendship.

It’s right around the time that Kuroo starts to wheedle you for an answer that Kenma decides to make his presence known. The flat “Stop” that he gives can just barely be heard over the ruckus around you, but when someone as quiet at the setter usually is speaks people tend to listen. The whole of your group look to where he now stands just behind the space between you and Kuroo with expressions ranging from confused to impish to annoyingly amused; unsurprisingly Kuroo is among the latter.

“I’m just trying to keep the game going,” he says with an easy smile as he tilts his head back to regard his friend. His lips curl up into a smirk as he takes in the slight frown that pulls at the other boy’s.

“No, you’re being annoyingly meddlesome and pushy—as usual.” To you, “You brought your DS? Good. We’re gonna have to grind a bit more if we wanna be ready for the next Grudge Match.”

It’s an extremely bold move coming from a guy who absolutely hates to stand out in any capacity.

As if he comes back to himself all at once, Kenma blinks owlishly a few times before pushing out a hard breath through his nose. The action seems to deflate him, leaving his shoulders drooping as he turns on his heel and heads for the stairs without another word.

Lev’s “Damn” comes just as Yaku asks “What the hell was that?”

“I dunno,” Yamamoto admits, “but it was kinda baller, not gonna lie.”

As more speculations sound you ignore them all in favor of making a quick exit, pointedly pretending that the snickers and wolf-whistles that trail behind you as you too make your way to your host’s bedroom aren’t happening.

You’re barely spared so much as a glance as you close the door behind yourself, with the pudding-haired boy being as silent as ever as he moves through his space. His room is in its usual state of disarray, with clothes, various manga, empty cans, and a few wrappers strewn about; you obviously cannot call the place clean, but it isn’t dirty as much as it is cluttered (though at some point he’s gonna have to learn how to make proper use of a waste basket).

The only thing that is truly in order is his gaming collection, unsurprisingly. The pristine cases are all lined along their designated shelves with care and a level of organization that one would not expect given the overall state of the room. Kenma has tried to explain the intricacies of his system to you on several occasions, but once he started getting into subgenres within subgenres you lost track, much to his quiet amusement.

At current he ignores all of this in favor of plopping down on his mostly made bed. Grabbing up his Circle Pad as well as his copy of Monster Hunter Tri, he swaps out cards before settling in. He sits so that his back is braced against the wall, the ever present slouch allowing his legs to dangle over the mattress’s side, and you move to sit beside him—though with the echoes of laughter and unwanted questions still sounding in your head you make sure to keep your distance.

Even with such scenes being more than common between you something feels… off, though for the life of you, you cannot figure out why that is.

At first you think it’s your own doing—you’re still a bit shaken by that stupid game, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find that your nerves are getting the better of you—but while that probably isn’t helping matters you’re not the only one putting out some weirdly strained vibes. All it takes is one look at Kenma’s overly hard button mashes and the near vicious way he chews at his bottom lip to know that something’s bothering him, but your asking after him nets you little more than a shrug.

It’s an expected response, but somewhat disheartening nonetheless.

The pair of you are close, closer than him and Kuroo even, if only because you’d known him longer by a year. You’re used to him keeping you at arm’s length when it comes to so many things, but you’d thought that you’d gotten to the point where he’d at least acknowledge that there is indeed something wrong.

Your troubled pout pulls a sigh from the boy as he pauses his game, and you find yourself doing the same. He stares off into the middle-distance as he tries to gather his thoughts, his thumbs tapping out a random beat against the handheld’s plastic casing.

“Kuroo’s a friend, but… he can be a lot,” he finally says. “He shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, that wasn’t cool, but still. I think I may have overacted.”

He drags his fingers through the length of his hair with an agitated little huff of breath before allowing his head to thump back against the wall. “To be honest, I didn’t expect you to come up here after all of that. It was kind of a lot, and I… I kinda feel like I need apologize to you, so—sorry. That was probably embarrassing as hell for you.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks, but you don’t need to apologize,” you assure him. “You were just looking out for me, I can’t be mad at that.”

The smile you give him is regarded with critical eyes that fall away before you can get your own read on him. He lets out a thoughtful hum as he switches the game back on. “Well I guess I should be saying you’re welcome instead.”

You snort at that. “Yeah, thanks—I guess.” Though your tone is somewhat sarcastic, there’s an undercurrent of fondness that you just can’t seem to shake when you talk to him, though apparently your friend doesn’t read it as such. You don’t expect a response of any sort, so it surprises you when Kenma turns his head fully towards you before looking away.

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay with this, ____. My intentions were good, but”—another sigh—“I don’t get to assume things just because we’re friends. I figured with how flustered you were getting you’d want to get out of there, but being flustered isn’t always a bad thing, not if… Not if you like the person who’s making you that way, anyway.”

The implications behind the statement leave you choking on a spurt of confused laughter. You like Kuroo, sure—despite how much of a teasing jackass he can be, you actually count him among your closest friends—but your affections don’t run any deeper than that. When you tell Kenma as much he blinks hard a few times before turning confused eyes on you. Those soft, golden irises are shadowed by some emotion that you cannot name as he mutters out a soft “What?”

“I don’t like Kuroo like that,” you repeat, your voice measured and words slowed in an obvious attempt to make sure that you’re well understood. “Hell, I can barely even tolerate his ass like a good seventy-five percent of the time—and I don’t mean that in a tsundere type way, I mean it in a ‘If we weren’t friends I would’ve legit kick his teeth into the back of his throat years ago’ type way.”

“…Then why?”

Now it’s your turn to sigh. “‘Why’ what, Kenma?”

“Why do you get so antsy around him? Why is he able to fluster you so easily? If you don’t like him like him, why does he make you so nervous?”

His questions leave you frozen. How are you supposed to answer any of them without giving away your secret? You suppose you should be grateful that he hasn’t picked up on your true feelings yet, but at the same time his thinking that you’re crushing on your mutual friend doesn’t sit well with you. You have no idea how to go about any of this, but the silence that comes with your indecision is apparently answer enough for the setter.

Kenma turns his attention back to the game without so much as a glance in your direction as he says, “If you don’t want to admit it, that’s fine ____.”

“Ke–”

“You don’t have to stay up here, either,” he continues on, cutting you off as if you had not spoken. “In fact it’s probably better if you don’t. Wouldn’t want Kuroo and the rest to get the wrong idea.”

His voice is vacant in a way that you’ve never heard before and it makes your chest ache even as it leaves your heart fluttering with something akin to hope.

In all the years that you’ve known him, Kenma has never been one for overt showings of emotions. Sure he gets happy, sad, mad, and everything else—he’s just as human as any of you, after all—but it’s always a subtle thing. Most found attempting to pursue and maintain a friendship with such a person to be too bothersome, and maybe it is, but you’ve always had a soft spot for life’s outcasts. That’s what had made you approach the boy back in primary school, recently obtained Game Boy Advance and connector cable in tow, a copy of Pokémon Sapphire primed and at the ready.

He had been even quieter back then, only speaking when he deemed it to be an absolute necessity, which wasn’t very often. His reticence forced you to learn how to read his moods fairly early on, and in the time since your skills have only sharpened. But just as you’ve leveled up your observation stat he’s apparently been working on his cloaking—how else would he have been able to hide his feeling away from you, when you can read him so well?

Though you’re shaking slightly, your touch is sure when you finally rest your palm against his hand. Kenma continues to peck away at his 3DS, but he does briefly flick his eyes over at where your fingers curl around him in between taking out a wave of low level monsters. This brief divergence of attention is as much of sign that he’s listening as you’re going to get, and so you steel yourself with a deep breath before finally speaking your truth.

“I– Okay, so… The reason Kuroo’s able to get under my skin so easily isn’t because of him, not really—it’s about what he knows.” Another eye flick then, this time his topaz gaze roves over the whole of your face before quickly falling away, and the action leaves you smiling just a bit.

“As you very well know, he’s annoyingly observant, but then again so are you, which is why I cannot figure out how it is that he knows but you don’t.”

That finally draws the whole of his focus to you. His eyes narrow slightly in confusion as his mouth parts around a soundless question. Not that he really needs to speak, you know what it is that he’s asking and so you give him his answer.

“It’s you, Kenma. It’s always been you. I’ve liked you for nearly as long as I’ve known you, but I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it weird, yanno? Like we’re best friends, and I wouldn’t want to risk losing that over a crush—no matter how massive it’s gotten—but now it feels like I’m going to lose you anyway because you’re pulling away because you think I like fucking Tetsuro Kuroo of all fucking people, and dammit if this ship’s just gonna sink I might as well put it all out there.”

You take another deep breath once your deluge comes to its end. Your heart’s beating way too fast and you’re pretty sure that your hand has sweated all over his, but despite all of this you feel lighter for having told him.

“Oh.”

You can’t help the huff of laughter that pushes its way out of your mouth. You lay the whole of your heart and emotions bare to this cat of a boy and all he has to say is “Oh.” It would be insulting if it wasn’t so him.

The room goes quiet for a beat, and then two, and just as you’re about to apologize for making things weird he finally decides to say something more substantial.

“So you’ve been feeling this way for a while then?” He mirrors your nod, though his holds an air of absence as he continues to puzzle his way through it all. “I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to stuff like that when we were younger, and then Kuroo moved in next door and was just kind of always there after that, so by the time I did start paying attention– Well your liking him made more sense, honestly. He’s smart, funny, and even charming when he wants to be; he’s also taller, in better shape, and is better looking. A shining rockerboy to my nerdy, moody techie*.”

You shake your head hard at that. “Don’t do that—you know how much I hate when you get down on yourself like that. Kuroo’s great, sure, but you are too, Kenma.”

There’s so much more you want to say—like how his small smiles always set your heart to doing somersaults, and that his laugh is your own personal cure for any and all forms of melancholy, and if he keeps letting his hair grow out you may just keel over from how damn good he looks—but you keep your thoughts behind your teeth for now. There’s only so much affection that the boy’s willing to endure in one sitting, and you’ve already crossed the line twice over with your little confession.

Speaking of said confession—“You still haven’t told me how you feel about all of this… about… us.”

The hand that has still yet to remove itself from your grip shifts about until its palm is cradled against yours. Kenma laces his fingers between yours, marveling at the fit for a moment, before stroking your thumb with the side of his own. His hands are rough and smooth by measures, with his sport of dubious choice leaving callouses in odd places to add an extra layer of sensation that you hadn’t been expecting, but aren’t at all opposed to.

For his part, the setter continues to play with your fingers as he speaks. “I feel relieved, honestly. Not knowing how you felt was terrible, and thinking that you liked someone else was even worse, but I was willing to live with it all if it meant keeping you in my life.”

He turns his eyes to you then, the beginnings of a full-blown smile pulling at his lips. “I don’t know much about these types of things, but I think—no, know—that it’s always been you too, ____.”

“Yeah?”

Kenma nods a bit as he leans over to press a kiss to your overly warm cheek, followed by one to the corner of your mouth, before finally brushing hesitant lips over your own. “Yeah.”

A/n: It’s my personal HC that while Kenma generally doesn’t have the patience for most TTRPGs, Cyberpunk is the one exception. He’s always found the mechanics of those types of games fascinating ((headcanon-ception: he used to want to be a game designer before he realized how much work when into it lol)), and the concept of Netrunning was especially intriguing. The more he looked into it, the more interested he got and it wasn’t long before he was dragging you out to the local hon’ya for a session lol. This didn’t last too long as he found that he enjoyed making characters and mentally writing what basically amounted to fan fiction about them to actually playing the game properly, but yeah. You guys still had your fun with the game and as such it definitely holds a special place in his heart to this day…

🍃 Volleyball Kiss

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures (Worth It) || WC: 1.3k

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you?

“How long have you been a setter?

“How do you train? Do you get along with your teammates?

“Have you ever hit a wall?”

Suddenly Hinata’s words make perfect sense, not that Kenma didn’t believe him before. But this Kageyama is more than ‘intense’, he’s fucking insane, and the second year cannot wait to get away from him and his incessant questions. He all but flees to the safety of the storage closet, using his size to his advantage and weaving in between people as he goes in hopes of shaking his pursuer. He nearly trips over the net that he still has cradled against his middle a couple of times, but other than that he makes it to his destination without further incident, thank the gods. Ignoring whatever it is Yamamoto and Karasuno’s outside hitter has going on, he shoves the bundle of nylon in the general area of the rest of the nets before slowly making his way back to the cluttered room’s entrance and peeking out.

In this ever shifting sea of red and black, his fellow setter is just one more body in the crowd. Kenma hopes that his relatively short stature will once again allow for him to get swallowed up as well, but–

“Hey! Number Five! Why’d you run? I just want to–”

“N-no, I don’t have time to talk, I have to, um, go.”

The ravenette’s brow furrows at that. “Go where? Neither of our teams is ready to leave yet.”

Where? Literally anywhere that isn’t here.

Whether or not he actually says this or just thinks it really loudly, Kenma has no clue, nor does he care. Even if he hadn’t just got done with a rather intense match he’s sure that he would find Kageyama’s energy to be draining—like a negative buff, slowly eating away at what little HP he’s been able to hold on to. He needs to get away from this machine of a boy and everyone else in this damned gym and recharge. Ideally he’d be doing so in the privacy of his own room, tucked well away from the bustle of the outside world, headset firmly affixed to his head and a controller vibrating against his palms. But home the place is a long bus ride away—home the person, however…

It says a lot about the state of your relationship that you barely even blink when Kenma knocks into your back without so much as a hello and buries his face between your shoulder blades. You carry on conversing with Karasuno’s manager—Shimizu, he’s pretty sure that’s what the Yamamoto Mimikyu called her—though you do acknowledge him with a few pats to the hands that have secured themselves around your middle. If the other manager finds his behavior odd she’s kind enough to keep it to herself, though the conversation does end soon after. He hadn’t been paying attention so he isn’t sure if this is because of his sudden arrival or if the exchange had come to its end naturally, but either way he’s glad. Selfish though he knows it is, the setter isn’t in the mood to share anything right now—be that wisdom that he most assuredly does not have or your attention.

“Who are you hiding from this time, hmm?” you ask, tone amused as you turn in his grasp.

His reply comes in the form of a grunt that can just be heard from where he’s now tucked his head away in the space between your shoulder and your neck. Gentle fingers massage at his nape completely uncaring of the sticky texture left behind from half dried sweat mixing with the hair moisturizer that you insisted he started using once he made the mistake of bleaching his hair. The added step to his routine is an annoyance, but better to be annoyed than be bald, he thinks. Most days, at least. Sometimes he just wants to say ‘fuck it all’, go back to his 3-in-1, and let whatever happens happen, but you really seem to like his hair, and he likes the way your fingers feel when they thread themselves through his locks, so… Yeah. So long as you’re willing to keep doling out head scratches he supposes he can keep up with the regimen.

“It wouldn’t happen to be Karasuno’s setter, would it?” Another grunt from him, and another wave of amusement from you. “Hm, thought so. He’s staring at you, hard. It’s uhh, kinda intimidating, won’t lie. I can see why you’re trying to avoid him—dude totally looks like he’s gonna run your pockets for your lunch money or something.”

He snorts at that. “I wish it was something like that, then I could just sic you or Kuroo on him.” He can practically hear your replying eye roll.

“I love it when you treat me like an attack dog.”

“And I love having scary partner privileges.”

“Whatever, jerk.” Your words hold no real sting, naturally, though you do give his hair a playful little tug that leaves him gasping. You take in his glare with a smirk that fades into a confused moue as you look over his shoulder at his stalker. “What does he want with you anyway?”

“Setting cheat codes? My life story? The secrets of the universe? I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want him to go away. Can you make him, please?”

You take in his extremely apparent distress with a pout before pulling him in close once again. A thoughtful hum echoes through your chest as you mull things over for a moment. “Well I do have one idea, but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Don’t care. He’s persistent and I’m desperate.”

“Desperate enough for some blatant PDA?”

He pulls himself away from his cubby long enough to look from you to his accoster, who’s clearly contemplating approaching, and back again before giving an emphatic nod. You look him over one last time, just to be sure, before bringing your hands up to cradle his face and placing a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. Though he’d obviously known what was coming, the setter still squeaks in shock, though he doesn’t jerk away. You linger for a long moment—just long enough to make any onlookers feel uncomfortable and Kenma himself melt.

Somebody yells something, but he cannot make out the voice over the rush of blood through his ears. Whatever was said earns a laugh from the room as a whole as well as a fair bit of yelling. When he finally clues back in he realizes that Kageyama is the one causing the racket; the boy’s screaming something about not being a voyeur, while his captain and their ace try to keep him from attacking their overly tall middle blocker. The bizarre sight makes it more than clear that your plan worked, and when he finally looks up at you, Kenma finds that you’re smiling that sly little smile of yours.

“So, that happened,” you start with a laugh. “Jeeze, that kid’s feral—look at him go…”

For his part Kenma just huffs before dropping his face back into the crook of your neck in an attempt to hide the blush that has no doubt spread across the whole of his face. You coo at him, giving him a little squeeze as you ask him if it was worth it.

Despite the fact that the pair of you are going to get no small amount of grief for your little stunt—Kuroo and Lev especially are going to have a field day with this—and the disturbing amount of warmth he can feel radiating from his cheeks he finds himself nodding.

“Yeah.”

A/n: Meanwhile Ukai and Takeda are absolutely hating this look for their team lmao. The former is yelling something along the lines of “Cut that out, you damn knuckleheads! Stop showcasing our crazy!!” and the latter is bowing in apology 40 going north all the while thinking, Ffs, I cannot take any of them anywhere lol…

🍃 One Hundredth Kiss

Sooner Could’ve Come Later, Honestly || WC: 900~

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Kenma asks you for what feels like the tenth time in less than half as many minutes. “Because if you’re having second thoughts…”

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “but if you’re having second thoughts…”

He sighs, long and loud, as he fiddles with the headset in his hands. He adjusts a few things before slipping the device onto your head with surprisingly gentle hands. He has you say a few words into the attached mic, looking at something on one of the screens in his bank of monitors to make sure the levels are where they need to be, nodding when one of his crew gives him the thumbs-up.

“No, Kuroo’s right. They’re gonna figure out who you are sooner or later, so we might as well do things on our own terms,” comes his very delayed response, his flat voice giving away nothing as usual. Even so you know him far too well to believe in his supposed aplomb; he’s definitely rethinking things, but unfortunately there’s little else for it.

And so you nod and smile as you tell him, “Right. Well then I guess it’s settled. Let’s do this.”

“Mm.”

Though you’re both putting on a brave face, neither of you can deny that the thought of introducing you to the 8.2 million people that make up Kenma’s—or Applepi’s, as the lot of them know him—fan base is terrifying. Given how private he is, there’s a good chance that you could’ve flown under the radar for a little while longer, possibly even indefinitely, but all it took was a few fans that existed in The Oven (you’ll never be over that fandom name, honestly)-volleyball cross-section to put an end to that.

It seems to hold true that no good deed goes unpunished, because had the pair of you not gone to support your friends at that damned game no one would have even know that you existed. With it being the fucking Olympics, you had thought that nobody would really notice or care about you kicking around together, but lo and behold not even a full forty-eight hours later and a grip of pictures have surfaced to leave the forum’s gossip mills running amok with theories.

(Your personal favorites are the ones that claim that you cannot possibly be his significant other because your perceived gender does not match up with what they know to be his sexuality and preferences. The internet is a lovely place, truly.)

In the time since all of his socials have been overrun with questions about exactly who you are to him—despite the fact that they way he’d been smiling at you in several of the pictures made it extremely obvious, in your opinion—and while the pair of you would’ve loved to ignore it all, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone identified you. And so you and Kenma had set down with his manager and PR team to figure out the best way to go about things.

Given his laid back nature, it was decided that the announcement shouldn’t be overly grand, but at the same time it couldn’t be too understated either, thus the livestream you’re just moments away from starting. It is to be a Q-and-A type deal, with the pair of you answering questions about yourselves, your relationship, and anything else they care to ask while duking it out in Jackbox games with those lucky viewers who’re able to land a spot in your lobby.

While you continue to hype yourself up, Mori—Kenma’s right hand and favored moderator—sits at her station waiting for the go ahead to go live, and you find yourself overly grateful for her presence. She’s made a reputation for herself as being a benevolent mod so long as you respect the host, his guests, and the community guidelines. She’s got free rein to use the ban button at her shrewd discretion, and has no compunctions about exercising that right, so you know that the minute people start to get out of pocket she’ll shut shit down. The rest of her small team is of the same mind, so at least you won’t have to worry about dealing with too much hate, if you receive any at all (not that you’re expecting things to go that smoothly, this is still the internet you’re dealing with, after all).

“Last call,” the woman tells you, her cursor hovering over that deceptively simple little button.

Your man looks at you with an arched brow, taking in your twitchy smile with appraising eyes. You know there’s no point in trying to hide how nervous you are, so instead you try to project your determination to push through it. However things go down, you know it’s not going to be the end of things, of you, and that’s what really matters once all is said and done.

Your resolve must shine through because after just a few moments Kenma nods a bit before putting on his own headset. He gets ready to adjust the attached mic before thinking better of it and pushing the thing up towards his forehead. Before you can question him yours is getting the same treatment and then he’s kissing you. It’s a chaste thing, little more than a brushing of his lips against yours, really, but the small bit of contact is heartening nonetheless. Ignoring the coos that the brief display of affection garners, you both set your mics back to rights before straightening in your seats.

“Ready?” Mori prompts again, encouraging smile firmly in place.

Your hands find one another as you both nod. “Yeah.”

A/n: Things go well for the most part. Naturally there are a few rude people in the batch, but between Mori’s ban hammer and Kenma’s sassy savagery folk figure out that it’s best to keep that type of shit to themselves fairly quickly. By the end of it the fanbase kinda falls in love with you, ngl (they love how soft you are for each other, and how their lil pudding head smiles and laughs more with you there), and they beg Kenma to have you back on more often. He starts at a hard ‘NO’, but eventually gets worn down to a ‘Maybe once a month if they want to do it, and you guys are good’ lol… ((but ofc if you want to be on more often he’s okay with that, honestly—your comfort is all that he’s really concerned with)) Also his fans call themselves Pie Slices, sorry I don’t make the rules except yes I do lmao.

🍃 Forever Kiss

You’re the One (Yeah, Yeah) || WC: 500~

“Come on, be a turtle—please, please, please be a turtle! If I get one more fucking bass I’m gonna scream, I swear…”

Kenma can’t help but to laugh at you fevered mutterings. You’ve been trying to catch a snapping turtle since April of last year, with your attempts only growing more and more desperate with each passing week. And now with the window for capturing the creature all but closed, well…

If he had to wait yet another year to complete his collection he’d be a bit frantic too.

When the little ‘Wah-hoo!’ and victory music combo sounds a second later he doesn’t even have to ask if you’ve gotten your prize. The whoop you let out is just this side of a true yell, and the little wiggle dance that accompanies it is almost too cute for his heart to handle. You’re all smiles as bop your way over to him to you shove your Switch in his face.

“Babe! Lookit! I finally got ‘em!!”

“Good for you,” he says, smile indulgent as he looks over your avatar’s beaming face and the reptile it proudly brandishes. “It only took you what? Like a year and a half to get it.”

The playful jab leaves you rolling your eyes as you flop down next to him. “Whatever. Not everybody gets paid to play video games, ya know. Some of us have to work and sleep and at least attempt to function like actual adults.”

“Mm, true. Couldn’t be me though.”

“Clearly, Mister C-E-friggin’-O…��

The banter is as familiar as anything in your relationship, the quips repeated refrains that leave something warm settling in his chest just as readily as you tuck yourself into his side. As he watches you proudly march your catch to Fūta, listening to the owl prattle off his ‘facts’ about the beast with a content if sleepy little smile on your face, that same warmth blossoms and spreads until the whole of him is consumed by it.

They’re the one.

The thought isn’t any great revelation—like he’d told you in his childhood room all those years ago, it’s always been you—but moments like these are just further confirmation of what he already knows.

“I love you,” he tells you, his arm pulling you in deeper to his embrace, “you know that right?”

You shoot him a quick smile before dropping your eyes back to the screen. “Mm, yeah, of course, baby. And I love you too. A lot. Like a lot a lot.”

“Yeah?”

That’s enough to garner the whole of your attention. You sit up just enough to cuddle your lips against the curve of his cheek in the sweetest approximation of a kiss. More of the little ministrations are peppered over the breadth of his face until finally, finally your mouth is hovering over his. This close he can feel the curl of your smile, the moist pant of your breath, and the formation of the word that precedes the kiss he so desperately craves–

“Yeah…”

A/n: So I’ve never actually played an Animal Crossing game as all of the Nintendo consoles I’ve owned were old handhelds (never made it past the Advance). Everything here was based off of wiki articles and YT vids, so if anything was off blame that lol…

Taglist (open to 18+ users): @screamin-abt-haikyuu | @scarlettriot​​

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[bigskydreaming]

And one more bit from the “Kings of the Sky” AU albeit several installments in, because I just......don’t know when or why I stumbled into an obsession with the dynamics between Dick and Jason and Cass as the eldest three Wayne siblings, but its there, its real, and its happening. I’ve stopped fighting it. I just....enjoy writing those three being dumb siblings who are dumb like so, so much.

Anyway, in this AU series, Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia and die, but rather eventually joins Dick at Titans Tower more regularly and is Flamebird. Both are closer with Bruce here than in canon because Dick helped Bruce and Jason get through the Garzonas stuff and Jason helped kick Bruce in the direction of Dick and adoption papers right after the Brother Blood storyline. Then Cass is actually the third to join the family, by way of Babs, and she’s Batgirl and then Black Bat, but there’s a period of time when its just Dick, Jason and Cass as the Wayne kids. 

(PS - this is the same series as where Jason ends up with his own age group of Titans, and accidentally falls into a love quadrangle of doom that is absolutely NOT a polycule dammit, with Tom Bronson (Tomcat), Ray Terrill (The Ray) and Todd Rice (Obsidian). Which amuses his brother and sister to no end).

Tim and Duke are both next, but sorta at the same time? Like Tim’s story takes a sharp turn when Robin II never dies and obviously is Flamebird now like Robin I is Nightwing, and Tim winds up in foster care after his parents die differently than in canon. Duke is also in foster care at this time, though a different placement, and while no Robin has died here, its been awhile since there’s been one in Gotham, and to kids who grew up with the idea of there always being a Robin, that feels weird and wrong ultimately. 

So Tim and Duke both hit on the idea of being Robin like, at around the same time and totally disconnected from one another, and that leads to them both joining the Batfam around the same time, and co-sharing Robin until Damian arrives much later and they both move on to new identities. But there’s no real confusion between Robins because Duke is the daytime Robin with more yellow coloring in his costume and Tim is the nighttime Robin with more red, and people say Red or Yellow if they ever need to differentiate which Robin they’re talking about. Anyway.

************

So [Tim and Duke] run into trouble eventually and then when running from trouble they run into each other and they’re like….huh. Awkward. And then they decide well, might as well both run from trouble in the same direction, I guess. So they do.

“Did you have a plan for dealing with these guys?” Tim yelled at Duke. The other boy looked back over his shoulder briefly and gave what would probably have been a half-shrug if he didn’t awkwardly try to barrel-roll over a car two seconds later.

“Umm, sorta?”

“How sorta are we talking about? Maybe the two of us together could fill in the gaps in the plan and come up with one full plan?”

“Uh yeah, no, its not that kinda sorta. I meant sorta in the sense that I thought I had a plan but it didn’t work and that’s why these guys are after me. Sooooo…”

“Not helpful, basically.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. And hey, I don’t hear you offering up a plan! Did you even have one at all?”

“Uh….I mean I kinda didn’t think I was going to need one because I figured some kid running around in a mask making a nuisance of himself was the sorta thing that was bound to attract Batman. And so I was just pretty much running around until that happened, and then I’d make a case for how I obviously need training and Gotham needs Robin and if its not me its likely to be someone else trying eventually anyway so why not be me?”

Duke paused just long enough to squint at him. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Tim rolled his eyes. The effort didn’t pair well with his huffing and over-all exertions from running for his life and all that, but necessity demanded. “Yeah I know, that’s why I never said it was a plan! It was mostly….more…idea-ish.”

“I’m just saying, I thought I was doing this wrong, but at least I had a plan! I mean yeah, it might have ended up with me accidentally busting in on what I thought was a bunch of Riddler’s henchmen setting up some kind of clue thing, only it was actually a bunch of Intergang type guys with alien space guns or some shit all dressed up as Riddler henchmen for some reason? I dunno what they were trying to do honestly, but so yeah I might have ended up running away on foot from like twenty of them and some kind of hovercycle -”

“I’m going to cut you off there and say wherever this is going its probably not the superior vantage point I think you think you have.”

Meanwhile, Batman was not going to be coming because he’s off on a JLA mission. However, in his absence Dick and Jason are in town filling in, and they finished taking out the bad guys several blocks back and caught up to whomever was running from them, figured out the situation and are currently sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching them realize they’re totally lost and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mostly because Dick and Jason are incredibly amused listening to their back and forth and also just…this whole situation.

Dick justifies not piping up to let them know they’re safe now by saying this is good intel gathering so we can offer Bruce our assessment as to whether they’re gonna try and keep doing this whether we train them or not, and also how they handle this whole being lost situation. Not knowing they don’t have to run anymore isn’t going to hurt them and really, this is a good field exercise almost.

Jason justifies not piping up by saying this is fucking hilarious and I will hurt you if you end this any sooner than we have to, I deserve this, I had a rough week.

Which is right around the time that Cass pipes up from where she’s been lurking unnoticed behind them this whole time: “Oh no. Was it Tom? Or Ray? Or was it Todd?”

And she does it right in Jason’s ear so he kinda aborted-shrieks and almost falls off the roof except Cass is ready for that and grabs his arm to steady him.

“I hate when you do that!” Jason growls in an attempt to cover up how badly she got him and also because he hates when she does it which is why she does it a lot. Again, they don’t hate each other at all, but they do seem to act like it a lot, and neither of them is entirely sure why. They kinda just started doing it and have each been trying to get the other back ever since and ended up locked in an unending spiral of gotcha-gotchaback, except, y’know, Batfam style.

Dick occasionally picks sides just to muddy the waters. And then he randomly switches sides without warning, so neither of them ever wants to risk getting too peeved at him even when he’s helping the other, because that might push him fully over to the other side and leave them permanently outnumbered, so they’re kinda stuck, which is exactly as he likes it, lol.

“Why are you Satan,” Jason hisses dramatically as he gets up and stomps over to the other side of the roof to sulk, lest she almost knock him off again. Its not the almost falling part that bothers him, its that she’s the one that snatches him to safety each time. She’s like a freaking cat toying with a - yeah not going there, just blaming Selina. Knew them hanging out was going to be bad news for me somehow, he gripes.

Cass just shrugs and smoothly sits down cross-legged right where she is, grinning Cheshire-cat style at him from there. “Childhood trauma,” is her answer.

“Great, and now you’re stealing my comeback on top of it?! Is nothing sacred to you?”

She offers another shrug. He would like to return those for store credit please. Maybe get something useful instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Babs is still helping me explore my options. We’re going alphabetically and we’re only on  the E-religions.”

“God, you’re the worst. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“You already used that same line last week when you came out of your room still half-asleep and she was just sitting directly across from your door waiting and staring unblinking and you yelped and dropped your laptop on your toe, and then cursed so loud that B came running around the hall thinking we were being invaded,” Dick reported idly, still perched in the same position he’d been in all along and watching the boys below them. “Just in case you thought no one noticed when you recycle.”

“I noticed too,” Cass added solemnly.

“I have no siblings,” Jason intoned. He threw up his hands dramatically and then loudly jumped down to the street below with a little help from the fire escape. It drew both Duke and Tim’s attention and they startled before realizing it was Flamebird. And that he’d landed on the street and was stalking past them while barely acknowledging them. And that that was Nightwing standing on the roof now with his hands on his hips yelling after him.

“Oh, reeeeeeal subtle. You’re not having fun anymore so you gotta make sure nobody else does either. Wow, the Brat-like behavior, just jumped out of the shadows with that one!”

And that was Flamebird not even turning around and just yelling back. “I HAVE NO SIBLINGS!”

And also they were both pretty sure that was Batgirl crouched on the roof next to Nightwing now, and she was…..sticking her tongue out at Flamebird’s back? No, Batgirl very much definitely was sticking out her tongue, that wasn’t in doubt, it was more just….very unexpected to see.

What was happening right now?

********

Eventually Tim and Duke have inevitably worn down [Bruce’s] resistance to training them by insisting they’re gonna keep doing this and if its not them its gonna be someone sooner or later anyway. Because, as they put it, you guys may not know this but Gotham’s gotten used to Robins by now and it freaks people out not to see one and Robin’s as important as Batman really and there needs to be a Robin and its not just us that will think that, like look at the fact that already two of us had the exact same idea, huh? And also, we’re gonna keep doing it anyway, sooooo….there’s that.

And then Cass vouches that they’re both 100% serious about that.

And then Dick vouches that as a former determined daredevil kid that was absolutely going to keep doing the same thing no matter whether you’d helped me or not, B, I also am of the assessment that these two mean it all the way.

And not to be left out and just to have something to contribute but also grumpy because his brother and sister are picking on him and he’s eighteen going on ten, Jason throws in: “And my assessment is that they both definitely seem dumb enough to keep doing this without help anyway and they definitely need help or they definitely will die, I’d give it a month, month and a half tops.”

And then Bruce dryly thanks his children for their contributions, their keen insights in this matter have been absolutely invaluable, he has no idea how he would make a decision here without it.

“Oooh, a rare sighting of Bat-snark in the wild. Someone call Nat-Geo quick, maybe he’ll do it again,” Dick says.

Bruce sighs. Duke and Tim look like they’re trying to decide if they’re allowed to be amused or if that’s also part of some weird Bat-test that they’re probably taking without even knowing it.

So Tim and Duke move in, start training together, and then also get sent to school together and it takes a month or so of settling in before they decide whether or not they actually are happy about this. There’s a period of deciding they’re supposed to be bitter rivals who snipe at each other back and forth across the dining table at every available opportunity, but that changes the first night Dick and Jason come back from the Tower since Tim and Duke have moved in and where Cass is also home instead of at the Clocktower with Babs.

Since all three of the older Batkids, upon seeing Tim and Duke squabble at dinner, decide to obnoxiously coo about how adorable it is watching the kids play. Which pretty instantly cements Duke and Tim as realizing their best chance of surviving the sudden acquisition of three older superhero ninja foster siblings who all can be as obnoxious as they are dangerous but also as much as they are - Duke and Tim are convinced - all quite insane.

A belief further cemented the next morning, with all three of them having spent the night at the Manor as well. Treating Duke and Tim to their first Saturday morning episode of the Cass and Jason show.

In this episode, Jason emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas still but warily peeking his head out first to look both ways down the hall before deciding it was clear…..and then makes it just almost to the end of the hallway leading to the stairs, when Cass drops down from where she’d been waiting perched above the other side of the door, in such a way as to suddenly fill the doorway just in front of him, hanging upside down suspending herself just with her feet wedged above the doorway, all while keeping her hands crossed her chest, a dead-eyed expression on her face, and with her tongue hanging out like she’s some kind of vampire hanging upside down in mid-slumber.

Jason shrieked and stumbled back a foot before catching himself and shoving two fingers in a cross shape in her direction.

“Demon! DEMON! Goddammit, I abjure thee, that’s supposed to fucking do something about having a demon sister, now what the fuck does it take to banish you!?”

“Can’t be banished,” Cass informed him, still upside down. “Can be bought though.”

Jason halted. “What?”

“I’m really surprised you never figured it out,” Dick said from his room further down the hallway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms casually crossed.

“Why did you think she never goes after me?”

Jason swiveled back and forth between his siblings suspiciously, trying to scry both their inscrutable (and in Cass’ case, still upside down) faces for signs they were telling the truth. “You’re telling me that Little Miss Monstrous has been a pain in my ass from day one and the reason she’s never so much as eked a single boo in your direction is you’ve been bribing her all this time?”

Dick shrugged. “Its all about getting in on the ground floor.”

Jason squinted, still unconvinced. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re just fucking with me. Like if this is for real, what have you been buying her off with?”

Dick smiled beatifically. “Cuddles and hugs.”

“NO! NO! Bullshit! I am NOT falling for this crap again, you are not gonna get me this way this time. I call BS, fuck you, nuh uh, you’re lying out your ass and your ass-face both.”

“Wait, what is this ‘this’ that I did before? What ever are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Is this about the Care Bear you had when you were fifteen?”

“Shut upppppppppppppppp, I didn’t have a Care Bear then, you’re such a - “

“Oh, I dunno, I’m preeeeetty sure there’s some holiday photos from that year that would say otherwise, pretty definitively in the form of you and your Care Bear….”

“That I only had because you literally just gave it to me as a present solely so that you could claim that I had a Care Bear when I was fifteen, you douchebag!”

“Just because I gave you the Care Bear didn’t mean you had to keep the Care Bear and hold the Care Bear and love the Care Bear, Jay. You chose to do all that.”

“I only kept the damn thing because you’re an asshole who lied about it being a family heirloom so I felt like I had to or I’d be a total jerk. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“I didn’t lie! It is a treasured family heirloom! Its the first Care Bear I gave to my little brother to teach him the important and valuable lesson that Care Bears - say it with me now - “

“Finish that sentence and they will never find your body.”

“CARE!” Cass shrieked from behind him before jumping on Jason’s back and bearing him down to the floor in an undignified tangle as she splayed atop him like a starfish and he stared up at the ceiling in a kind of strangled frozen fury, like there was so much emotion he wanted to process he’d overheated and now was stuck like that until he cooled down.

That was when Dick leaned over him and solemnly added one final thought, as though it was a crucial addition of the gravest importance:: “A lot.”

Jason’s eye twitched.

Dick’s eyes went wide in response. “Uh oh. He went to the Danger Zone. Run Cass. We’ve unleashed the dogs of war!”

Cass was off and on her feet in a second, taking off down the hall like a rocket. “Not the dogs of war!” She yelled.

Dick was only seconds behind her when behind him, Jason rose like an eruption, growling wordlessly and sparks practically flashing from his suddenly flinty eyes. He charged after them like an enraged bull.

“Kenny Loggins wouldn’t want this!” Dick yelled over his shoulder as he rounded the doorway and vanished. Jason rounded it in hot pursuit.

“Poison Ivy won’t even be able to make compost from what’s left of you when I’m through!”

The yelling and running vanished into the distance. Duke and Tim finally looked at each other blankly.

“What?” Tim asked. Duke shrugged helplessly.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. Bruce stuck his head out. “Is it safe?”

Tim just stared at him.

“What?” Duke asked.

**************

LOL mostly I just want to get to the tail end of the series, when Dick and Jason go undercover as supervillains in the Society of well, Supervillains....Dick as War Shrike and Jason as Gray Jay. (A kind of bird usually known for or referenced as being thieving and unpredictable and unexpectedly dangerous despite its size. Jason never went into the Lazarus Pit here and so isn’t as huge as he is in canon, he’s on the smaller side due to his early life’s malnutrition. Living with Bruce helped him catch up enough that he’s not TINY tiny, but he’s still smaller enough that this particular mantle fits him a little better than it would his massive canon depiction).

Cass also partakes in the undercover storyline, just showing up uninvited in a persona she’s crafted for the mission and calls Black Swan. And War Shrike and Gray Jay are both so startled and obviously a little freaked by her unexpected arrival, that combined with her being ticked at her brothers for leaving her behind, RUDE, and them sufficiently cowed and guilted by her wrath, that it all adds up to the other villains as being clear evidence that she is the boss and they are her advance minions. 

Which mollifies and satisfies Cass immensely, and leaves Jason grumpy that their mission was hijacked and also his sister is The Worst, and leaves Dick temporarily disgruntled because This Whole Thing Was His Idea DAMMIT but then five seconds later finding it hilarious because Dick is a chaos connoisseur and he has an appreciation for whimsy and the unexpected.

“I can’t believe you not only gate-crashed our extremely sensitive and delicate undercover operation, but you completely hijacked it as well! This is so typical,” Jason grouched.

Cass simply swept ahead of him and strode down the hallway with lethal grace. “Silence minion.”

Jason spluttered behind her and she grinned to herself. He really made it too easy sometimes.

[cherryonigiri]

S/O that thirsts over anime/game guys

reposted bc wasn’t showing up in the tags + I want to keep nsfw under the cut

@nononononojustno asked: Okay so could you write a headcanon where 2 random boys (can you pick then? I love all of boys from hq) and Ushi-kun where they walk on their gfs fangirling or thirsting over another anime/game character?And she was talking how hot he is? How they would react?👀😂 have a great day/night and dont forget to eat and get rest, love you💕

A/N: hahahahaha i laughed while writing this. FYI these are all based on legit crushes i had on anime/game characters at some point in my life - see if you’ve watched the shows i’ve watched :) ILY I PROMISE I’M DOING MY BEST TO EAT THREE MEALS A DAY AND GET ADEQUATE SLEEP MWAH. also i went overboard and added an extra boy bc why not. These are a little shorter since there were 4 characters but I hope you enjoy!

Content warning: implied nsfw for Atsumu + slight nsfw hcs for Matsukawa (both are under the cut)

PS: If anyone wants a spicy sequel/one shot for matsukawa i’m open to the idea 👀👀 let me know in my inbox!

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima definitely knows you’re into anime + games

Having visited your dorm room on multiple occasions he’s seen your extensive collection of manga, anime posters and you always seem to be playing on your switch whenever you have free time

Of course, he notices a significant portion of your collection is centered on male characters

And you’ve definitely mentioned a few games to him - Ikemen Sengoku, Code:Realize, Hakuouki (wow i’m really out here exposing myself) etc.

He doesn’t really mind though? Like - at the end of the day these are 2D men, whereas he is a very real boyfriend

At least he thinks he doesn’t mind

Recently, he notices that you seem to be on your phone a lot, and you seem to be texting the same group chat very often

He asks why and you laugh - it’s not actual text messages you’re just trying out a new otome/simulation game called Mystic Messenger. He finds the name silly but he just brushes it off he’s definitely J E A L O U S

Until one day he walks into your room while you’re calling one of your friends to freak out about that specific game

You sound kind of teary from outside the door “Oh MY GOD OH MY GOD I GOT THE GOOD ENDING WITH JUMIN!” and “[friend name] I THINK I CAN DIE HAPPY I’M MARRIED TO JUMIN HAN WHAT MORE DO I NEED IN LIFE” and “HE’S SO FREAKING ATTRACTIVE UGH I AM BLESSED”

He’s like who TF is Jumin and immediately bursts into your room looking pissed off

Poor babie is all like “you’re married?” and “if you had someone else you were interested in you should have told me.” “Who is this Jumin Han???” 🧐

Oh my god you start cackling, but you manage to tell him that NO you are not married and that Jumin Han is a fictional character from the game you’re playing

Ushijima looks confused after you explain - why would you find fictional men attractive when you’re already dating him?

Tendou almost dies laughing the next day when Ushijima tells him about what happened

Oikawa Tooru

Since practice finishes pretty late he usually goes to see you at your house at night, but tonight things wrapped up earlier - he’s excited to spend more time with you

You’ve finished up most of your homework so you’ve just been rewatching Attack on Titan since you’re super excited for the new season

You’re kinda distracted/have headphones on so you don’t hear your boyfriend knock on the front door. Your mom answers it and lets him in and he climbs the stairs

He can hear your fangirling (freaking out) over something as he walks towards your room

You jump in surprise when he opens the door, because you thought he would be a bit later but immediately release your pent up excitement

“Tooru just LOOK at him he’s such a bad ass like oh my gosh he literally has swords and he’s still running around slaying the MPs who have guns. God whenever he gets angry he looks so hot,” etc. etc.

You’re shoving your laptop in his face, showing him gifs and video of attack on titan, specifically the captain of the survey corps that you are obsessed with

Tooru gets it - for him its space, shitty alien films and astronomy. For you it’s video games and anime - or more specifically, handsome characters from said franchises

Even though he understand that it’s something you’re passionate about he still makes a whole show about whining how you’re in love with Levi Ackerman (lmao i still thirst over our favorite captain) instead of him

“y/n i’m taller than him! And more handsome! He has blood on him all the time! And he’s super annoying because he’s obsessed with cleaning.” *cue pouty Tooru*

You probably shouldn’t tell him that you are an avid follower of the levi x reader tag on tumblr

Tooru still somehow finds out you’re also reading reader insert fanfic and goes BERSERK with his pouting and whining - literally everyone and their mothers have heard his sob story about how “his darling y/n is leaving me for a short germaphobic asshole”

The rest of the team finds it hilarious - the end up pranking him by posting pictures of Levi in his school locker or texting them in the volleyball groupchat (Oikawa is Suffering™)

Makki and Mattsun get him a Levi keychain for his birthday and cackle when he chucks it violently into the nearest trash can

Miya Atsumu

Doesn’t really know you’re into anime/gaming at first

I don’t think that’s on purpose - Atsumu just has such a one track mind when it comes to volleyball and he’s always busy with practice

so he just kinda doesn’t really give all the anime merch in your room a second glance even though it’s a dead giveaway

I bet Atsumu secretly watches some superhero anime - probably shounen stuff like My Hero Academia, one punch man etc.

He probably starts to notice you’re into anime/games because you’ll play games on your phone/gaming device all the time

One day he notices you’re giggling + blushing while looking at your screen. He’s curious to he heads over to you when coach says they can have a break

Peeks over your shoulder because he wants to know what you’re playing - but instead he’s greeted by some 2D samurai guy called Harada Sanosuke asking you to marry him

“Huh, I didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff y/n” tries to sound playful but internally he is screaming / ?????? WOT I DIDN’T KNOW MY S/O WAS INTO OTOME GAMES

Atsumus pretty chill about it at first, he probably teases you a lot about playing the game but isn’t really bugged about it

“Maybe you should thirst over your boyfriend instead of a fictional character babe~”

I mean - he knows he’s attractive and why be jealous? You only really play the game when he’s busy and you don’t really let the game play seep into your dates/hangouts

But one time he walks in on you reading some ~spicy~ hakuouki x reader fanfic and he’s like are u serious

Like you were lowkey quiet screaming to yourself and muttering “omg omg omg” when he walked in and you definitely tried to close your laptop so he couldn’t see what was open in your browser

Too bad Atsumu has mad reflexes and manages to prevent you from making your computer go to sleep

Briefly skims whatever it was that you were reading and smirks at you

“Hey, if you really want something like this, why don’t you let your real boyfriend deliver” before kissing you

Matsukawa Issei

Look, Issei just wants a chill movie/tv show night where the two of you can bundle up on the couch and binge whatever anime you feel like

Has everything set up - this man is ready to go: snacks? he has all of your favorites, couch? filled with soft pillows + multiple pillows. Attire? Comfy sweatpants shirtless 🥵

Last time he chose the series for your binge sleepover so he let you choose what the two of you were gonna watch this time

Turns out you decided to watch Psycho-Pass - it seemed like a pretty cool show, he was down with the whole dystopia/psychological concept

Starts out pretty normal, is appreciating the action + mystery elements and is glad that you chose that show

About halfway through the anime you two decide to take a break - he goes to the kitchen to refill your snacks, leaving to stretch you back.

When he comes back with more food, he notices that you’re hunched over your phone, typing something

He sneaks up behind you after he puts the food down, “Whatcha reading there babe?” You squeak and try to hide your phone, but not before he sees the words kougami x reader typed into your tumblr search bar

Lit-rally exCuSE me what - he’s not mad (more amused than anything else) but he also kind wants to tease you (bc Mattsun is a little shit)

“Is that the reason you wanted to watch this show?” he asks playfully. “He’s pretty hot tho, I kinda agree with you there babe.”

Now that he’s released the floodgate, he can’t stop your occasional comments like “omg how does he look so GOOD when he’s punching someone” or “he could shoot me with his dominator and i’d still say thank you”

The thirst comments are kinda getting to him, so he decides to take things in a different direction

“Let me what I can show you with my dominator~” L M A O I’M SORRY THIS EXISTS

Suddenly you’re being pulled onto his lap, and pressed against his bare chest, Issei barely gives you time to adjust before he’s kissing you roughly, tongue plunging into your mouth

His hands wrap around your hips pressing your core closer to his own, and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your stomach

He’ll be sure to suck a dark hickey onto the side of your neck and his hands travel under your shirt, just to remind you who your real boyfriend is

Needless to say, you won’t remember a single thing about the second half of the show after the night is over couch sex? Couch sex 😏

[the-himawari]

A3! Magazine Interview Translation - 2D☆STAR Vol. 11 (½) [Summer Troupe]

A roundtable discussion unveiling the addition of Summer Troupe’s newest member

Kumon-kun is an Undisputed BroCon!!

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

——Congratulations on your 4th performance, “First Crush Baseball”. Hyodo Kumon-kun, the newly added member, could you please introduce yourself to our readers who are meeting you for the first time?

Kumon: Hyodo Kumon! Currently a second-year in high school! My blood type is A, and my birthday is July 20! My hobbies are watching baseball and collecting jerseys! Umm, also…

Yuki: A brocon.

Kumon: Ah, right, right! I’m a brocon!

Tenma: Don’t say that so proudly…

Kumon: But “brocon” means “you love your big brother”, doesn’t it? I really, really looove my big bro! So I’m a genuine brocon!

Kazunari: Yep yep, that’s one of Kumopi’s charm points!

Misumi: It’s the same with my triangles~.

Muku: The same… I wonder if it is?

Yuki: Just so you know, the brother that he loves so much is the Autumn Troupe’s Classic Delinquent.

Tenma: Classic delinquent…

Kazunari: Yep, fyi, he’s Autumn Troupe’s Hyodle!

Tenma: Those add-ons aren’t helping! It’s Juza-san.

Kumon: My big bro is super, super, duper~ cool, right! I’m the happiest person in the world to be born as my big bro’s little brother…

Misumi: You’re lucky~. I’ll give Kumon a Triangle-kun, swimsuit ver.~

Muku: Uwahh, it’s a new one! His swim ring and straw hat are so cute!

Kazunari: I designed it!

Yuki: And I’m the one who made it.

Muku: Oh, it’s a collaboration between Kazu-kun and Yuki-kun!

Kumon: I-is it really ok for me to receive such an amazing thing?

Misumi: Yep, take it~.

Kumon: Sumi-san…!

Tenma: Err, that’s not something that you should be so moved by! In the first place, why are you suddenly giving him a Triangle-kun…

Misumi: It’s cause Kumon’s cute~.

Kazunari: Ah, did Tenten want one too?

Tenma: Haa!?

Yuki: The hack hasn’t gotten many Triangle-kuns, right? At any rate, it’s because you’re a hack.

Tenma: Don’t call me a “hack” twice! It’s not like I really wanted one or anything…

Kumon: For me as the newcomer to be so brash… I’m so sorry!

Misumi: Tenma, I’ll give you lots when we get home!

Muku: Fufu. That’s great, right, Tenma-kun?

Tenma: Like I said… Ahh, I don’t care anymore! Do whatever you want!

——Now that their talk has heated up, let’s move on to the next topic. What are your honest impressions now that your 4th performance has finished? Also, how was Kumon-kun’s acting?

Kumon: You’re asking about my acting too!? Asking that is scary… I’m nervous…

Muku: Kyu-chan, are you ok? Your face is getting pale…

Kumon: I think I improved from the time of my initial audition, but there was never a day where I could say all my lines smoothly…

Kazunari: Nobody minds that, ‘kay?

Kumon: I messed up my standing position too, and somehow managed to get everyone to follow through for me…

Misumi: That happens all the time~. We’re a team, so it’s natural to help each other!

Kumon: There was also a time I was too flustered during my quick-change and the button on my shirt came off…

Yuki: Seriously, you're lucky I was waiting in the wings at that time, right?

Kumon: There were countless times where I accidentally talked over Tenma-san’s lines too… I only caused trouble for everyone…

Muku: …

Misumi: *Stare*…

Kazunari: …

Yuki: …

Tenma: W-why are you guys looking at me like that?

Yuki: No reason. We’re just wondering if you’ll say something to this infamously negative guy.

Kazunari: Your speech here is important! Leader Tenten!

Misumi: Go Tenma~!

Muku: I’ll whisper too…! Umm… Tenma-kun! Please be kind to him!

Yuki: Muku, that definitely wasn’t a whisper.

Muku: Haa! I accidentally put power into it…

Kumon: Making everyone be so considerate of me… I… I…

Yuki: Seeee, say something already, you hack. Or else who knows how far these pessimistic cousins will sink together.

Tenma: You guys are just hyping it up as you like! …*Sigh*. It’s true, Kumon’s acting was clumsy and he had a lot of misses.

Kumon: Yeah…

Tenma: But, everyone’s like that in the beginning, and we were able to make it safely to the closing night. You picked up on the adlibs well and you’re the one who carried the baseball scenes for us. Good job. You did well.

Kumon: Tenma-san…

Muku: That’s so great, Kyu-chan…!

Kazunari: Ohoho~, Kumopi and Mukkun have been moved to tears. It makes me remember the curtain call on our closing night~.

Misumi: There, there~.

Tenma: You guys are overreacting…

Yuki: Well, your acting will improve as much as you want from now on.

Kazunari: Yep, yep! We’ll work hard together from now on, right, Kumopi!

Muku: I’ll accompany you if you want to practise on your own, so let me know anytime.

Misumi: I like Kumon’s earnest and straightforward acting~.

Tenma: …And there you have it. You can make proper use of your failures in our 4th performance for our 5th performance. But aside from the troubles and failures… Even though it was your anticipated debut stage, are those really your only impressions?

Kumon: Eh…

Tenma: Do you have nothing else to say after you stood on stage for all those days and did your best at acting comedy?

Kumon: …It was fun. The play we put on with everyone was super fun! So I thought I wanted to act more and more with everyone as the Summer Troupe!

Tenma: Geez, see, you do. That’s the most important thing, alright?

Kumon: Ehehe, yeah!

——It looks like Summer troupe’s bond has grown stronger. “First Crush Baseball” was a baseball-themed story, but if you all were to watch a game, would it be baseball? Or another sport?

Kumon: It’s definitely baseball for me! Of course I like playing it, but as expected, watching baseball is the most fun!

Muku: I guess it’s baseball for me too. I’ve been going to watch Kyu-chan’s games, and we’ve been watching baseball on TV together since a long time ago.

Kazunari: Samesies~. I really started liking it after performing it on stage! I’m especially attached to second base!

Tenma: You do get interested in the position you played yourself, huh? I can’t help but watch it when it’s broadcast, and my eyes always drift towards the catcher too.

Misumi: I get it, I get it~. I’m also into baseball! Since the shape of the home plate is like a triangle~.

Tenma: Is that why!

Kumon: Ohhh! The baseball lovers have increased! I’m super happy~!

Yuki: Hmm, I don’t particularly have a sport, but anything apart from soccer.

Muku: Eh? Yuki-kun hates soccer?

Yuki: I don't particuarly like nor dislike soccer itself, but when it’s on TV, those guys’ cheering gets so fired up that I can’t stand it. The temperature in the room rises.

Tenma: (Winter troupe’s) Tasuku-san and them, huh…

Kazunari: Eh! It’s rare for Tax and them to get so hyped-up, so it’s fun and I like watching it together with them.

——And so, your 5th show is currently underway, is that right? Since the play is about ninjas, there are all sorts of actions scenes, but did you undergo any special training?

Tenma: We watched videos of Autumn Troupe’s plays and used them as reference on how to utilize our movements and spacing in action scenes.

Kazunari: It’s hard when you try doing it though~. Four guys moving around on that narrow stage looks awkward if you don’t figure out a way to showcase it.

Tenma: We got Director and (Autumn Troupe’s) Sakyo-san to watch us countless times, and then finally solidified it.

Muku: At first, we were worried we wouldn’t be able to keep up with Misumi-san’s agile movements, but when we tried it, we were able to catch up and move with the tempo too so it actually went well.

Yuki: Saying the Triangle Alien’s movements are agile is putting it lightly.

Kumon: Sumi-san’s kunai handling was super cool too!

Misumi: Ehehe~ thanks~.

Tenma: I’m glad the Summer Troupe doesn’t have anyone who’s seriously bad at exercising.

Kazunari: Strictly speaking, the only one who’s unathletic in our Theatre Company is (Spring Troupe’s) Itarun, right~? (Winter Troupe’s) Azu and Arinrin both don’t like excercising either, but it’s not like they’re unathletic.

Yuki: More than a miracle, it was thanks to that gamer’s obsession that he was able to get through the Spring Troupe’s 5th play.

Muku: We have to do our best too so we don’t run out of stamina until our closing night!

Kumon: Alriiight, then let’s run home today! We’ll go on a run!

Tenma: Yeah, I’ll pass.

Kazunari: Good luck, Kumopi!

Yuki: Go ahead by yourself.

Kumon: EHH!? E-even Muku won't…?

Muku: U-ummm… If it’s just a little bit…

Misumi: I’ll run too~.

Tenma: Geez. Don’t let it affect tomorrow’s performance.

——Speaking of summer, it was Yuki-kun and Kumon-kun’s birthdays a little while ago, right? Did you all throw a birthday party together?

Kazunari: ‘Course, we held surprise parties for both of them 𝅘𝅥𝅮

Kumon: We sure spent a long time thinking together about what kinda design we should go with for Yuki’s birthday cake.

Tenma: Well, it’s because Yuki’s fussy about designs. It was a relief Kazunari did a good job of getting everything down into an illustration.

Yuki: The sugar candy torso was cute. Thanks.

Misumi: We struck out together on Kumon’s birthday~!

Muku: We went with a cushion that was modeled after Sakura High's uniform, and we were really glad Kyu-chan accepted it just like we hoped he would!

Kumon: I’m super happy with it already… and it’s a treasure of a lifetime for me! But since it’s a nice chance, I’d be so happy if we could all have matching ones together someday.

Tenma: That’s true. How about it, Yuki?

Yuki: …Well, I’ll make one for everyone if I feel like it. Personally, I like Sakura High’s uniform too.

Kumon: Yay—! Thanks, Yuki!

Yuki: The hack can make his own though. I’ll teach him how to make it.

Tenma: Haa!? Why am I the only one who has to make it myself!

Yuki: Because you’re Tenma.

Tenma: That’s not a reason!

Muku: U-ummm… It’ll be Kazu-kun’s birthday soon, right! Do you have any present that you want?

Kazunari: Hmmm, something I want, eh~. …What do to, maybe there’s nothing.

Kumon: So selfless!

Kazunari: That’s not what I meant by that~. Lemme think! How about Mukkun? Your birthday’s after mine, right?

Muku: Me? Hm~mmm…

Misumi: Could it be, Muku doesn’t have anything either?

Muku: Ahaha. I think I’ll have something, but when I’m asked like this, nothing jumps out at me.

Kazunari: Right~. Then let’s think about it together!

Muku: Yeah!

——Now then, please leave a message, including any announcements from MANKAI Company, to your fans.

Tenma: There were various troubles this time as well, but following Spring Troupe, Summer Troupe was able to safely raise the curtain on our 5th show as well. I want to create the very best play with these 6 members, without missing a single person, all the way until our closing day. Please continue to support Summer Troupe from now on as well.

---

| Spicy Cuisine Research Society

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Fight

CW: Ableism against a child, references to attempted noncon/assault of a survivor, religious references to the Bible, conditioning, trauma recovery, trauma response

TIMELINE: Immediately post-Creepy Pet Lib Guy. Links in piece.

She hears his footsteps, the soft motion of him through the living room and into the den, where a single lamp is on in the corner on the side table next to the old couch Paul never could bear to throw out. Ronnie doesn’t look over at him, instead picking at a bit of duct tape affixed over a ripped spot while sipping her beer straight from the bottle.

There’s a show on the television - they have a new one finally, but Ronnie’s never thrown out a damn thing that wasn’t broken just because it got replaced and she’s not about to start now, so she moved it in here - but she’s not watching it. Not even sure what the show is, only that the laugh track is tinny and never seems timed to the moments of actual humor. 

The house is mostly silent, this late at night. There’s no sound but the occasional gurgle from the ice machine in the fridge, the soft hum of electronics that she never notices except when the power goes out, and then only because of its sudden absence. 

No sound but the television’s off-key laughter and the footsteps of her son, creeping up behind her. 

“Mommy?” His voice is so high and soft, fuzzy with sleepiness, and she turns with a tired smile to see him dragging his favorite blanket behind him along the floor. It’s a quilt she bought at a church’s Christmas market when he was two, and it had buttons sewn in with the patches, giving the cats the quilt is decorated with three-dimensional button eyes. 

His face is rounded and so like his father’s, even so, his face and eyes and his hair are all Paul’s, through and through. He’s an echo, a clone of his father, in a lot of ways… up to and including navigating a world that has already labeled him as difficult, and he’s only six years old.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing up?” She’s twenty-three with a six year old son, and doesn’t that seem strange, some days? So many of her friends from high school are still out until dawn, posting photos of their drunken shenanigans on Facebook, and here Ronnie sits… twenty-three, with a husband who works nights, and a six-year-old son whose teacher calls him hopeless, right to his fucking face.

“I, I, I had a bad dream,” He says, and his eyes are so, so big in his small round face. Paul’s eyes are like that, big and green and soulful. She’d fallen into them, her junior year, and she’d never wanted to climb back out. No matter that her friends thought he was weird, no matter that yeah, okay, he is weird - he’s her kind of weird, and she and Paul understood each other right from the start. 

“Oh, no.” She pats the couch cushion beside her and he clambers almost eagerly up to tuck himself in beside her. Her throat nearly closes as he carefully spreads his blanket out to cover them both, the simple gesture of care and love. How do you look this boy in the eyes and tell him he can’t do something? “What was your bad dream about, do you want to tell me?”

“Monsters,” He says, as if that single word relays all the information she could possibly need. Maybe it does, really - at least the monsters her son dreams about are easier to vanquish than the ones Ronnie has to help him learn how to face on his own as he grows.

“Good thing I monster-proofed this house before we moved in,” Ronnie teases. She moves her arm around his shoulders and he smiles, faintly, eyes closing as he leans his head against her collarbone, his ear right where he’s always wanted it, ever since birth - over her heart. Listening to her heartbeat. Sure enough, his fingers find their way to her stomach and start to tap in time with it, and Ronnie sips her beer again.

“Monsters aren’t, aren’t, aren’t real, actually,” He says, speaking quietly and without opening her eyes, and Ronnie thinks if her six-year-old well, actuallys her one more time… she read all the parenting books and has a whole shelf of parenting memoirs she’s picked up and not a single one mentioned that little kids are fucking know-it-alls. Not one.

“Well, if they’re not real, then why are you buggin’ Mommy at midnight because of dreaming about them, huh?” She keeps her voice light and affectionate, just this side of teasing. Tristan doesn’t react well to any kind of perceived anger or rejection, moping for a day or more around while his brain tries to process that she didn’t stop loving him just because he did something that bothered her. Tris as a toddler broke her heart more than once with terrified insistence that you, you, you don’t even like me anymore after time-outs or discipline.

He’s just being manipulative, her mother had said once, but Ronnie knew better. 

He’s three years old, Mom. He’s not trying to manipulate me, he’s scared.

He’s just doing what works, Veronica, you can’t always give in to it.

Mom. He is a little boy. Do you realize how you sound?

Now his teacher is repeating the same tired circular logic that cycles round and round her son without ever seeing him. Ronnie is staring down the barrel of another round of meetings, talking to administrators to try and get around the teacher’s rigidity and hostility, arguing for Tris to get moved into a new class, and all the while he’ll fall further and further behind in his in-class work - while at home he rockets through the homeschooling workbooks she buys, a six-year-old already doing second-grade reading and writing work, first-grade math, obsessed with a kid show about science that they have to watch every single day or he has seriously informed her he might die.

The knowledge is there, and his love of learning hasn’t been throttled by school yet, and Ronnie can’t do anything but try to work within a system that tells her that her son needs to be changed or cured in order to not be kept locked away from everyone else.

Monsters are pretty fucking real, in Ronnie’s experience. 

One day her son will have to learn that all the monsters are human beings.

God, she’s so tired of fighting, and so very aware that she’s not going to stop until the whole damn world remakes itself to give space for Tristan, until the world deserves how unreservedly her son loves it.

She takes another drink, then sets the beer bottle carefully down on the coaster - she ordered them last year, and they all have little stylized drawings of the three of them on it, faceless sketches of a man, a woman, a child - man and child red-headed, woman with brown hair. 

When she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, right before Thanksgiving her junior year, she’d thrown up and cried for a week and been sullen and silent at the holiday table, trying to figure out what to do next.

But Paul had never hesitated. When she told him, his response had been to go home to his dad and ask to start working part-time with the Garden, running packages he never looked into, playing lookout outside of bars while the Garden met inside. His first pay - cash handed to him in an envelope - he’d spent some of it on a onesie, a baby blanket, and a stuffed puppy with fur so soft Ronnie could barely stand the fluff. 

Then he’d spent some more on ginger chews and ‘Preggo Pops’, lollipops that were supposed to help with Ronnie’s morning sickness, and three books on pregnancy for her and one book on becoming a dad for him. 

Paul did what Paul always did - took one look at a cliff he had to cross and simply leapt headfirst and hoped for the best. That impulsiveness that she loved and that had gotten him in so much trouble in life, the enthusiasm that carried her long with it.

There are monsters in the world, Ronnie thinks, running fingers through her son’s fine, soft hair. But there are people who help you fight the monsters, too. Even if the monster is just the stares from other students at school as her stomach grew, the way her friends’ parents stopped letting her come to their houses, the thin-lipped disapproval of the principal handing her a high school diploma as she half-waddled across the stage, refusing to be shamed, engagement ring on her finger. Even if the monster is a world that tries to shove her son into boxes that he can’t fit into, or a teacher who sends him home in tears convinced he’s too stupid to learn anything.

Her jaw sets.

Veronica Higgs has been headstrong since birth, and she’s never made a decision she didn't follow through on. Never turned away from a fight. She’s not about to start now, not when it’s her son.

Ronnie has never turned away from the sweet baby that had looked at her with such dark-eyed seriousness when he was born, the infant who cried for reasons Ronnie couldn't’ fathom, the toddler who screamed that the lights at Target hurt his skin, the little boy who lined up dinosaurs and cars and toy horses in perfect color gradients, the boy who rocks in her arms and hums when he’s happy, the boy she hopes will one day be able to live on his own without her, because…

Because if only Paul and Ronnie are going to fight for him, then they’re going to have to be a fight so fierce that everyone else can’t possibly hold out against them.

The doctors said he might not talk - and he talks a mile-a-minute, about any-fucking-thing that comes into his mind. They said he wouldn’t make friends easily, but he goes on sleepovers with his gymnastics buddies, just went to a party at Chuck E. Cheese with a little preparation so he wasn’t scared of the games and lights and noise when he got there. They said he would struggle in school, and-

Well, he does. But only because of the adults who refuse to understand that Tris learns just fine… if you let him listen in his own way.

“Hey, Tris?” She smiles down at him and he turns those big green eyes up to her. There’s a chapped spot on his lower lip that looks like he might have messed with it until it opened into a sore, and she reminds herself to get some vaseline on it. “You want to stay here with me for a bit? We’ll watch one of your shows, and then back to bed. How’s that sound?”

He smiles at her, and nods a little, still tapping along to her heartbeat. “Oh, oh, okay, Mom. Can, can, can… can-can… can we watch Dino King?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronnie hates that show, but really - he loves it, and it’s one night, and she could use the way his open, brilliant happiness helps her forget that he’s going to have to work harder and harder to hold onto it as he grows.

She picks up the remote, brings up the menu, switches to a streaming network, and listens to the grating, familiar theme song start to play as her son’s eyes move contentedly to the screen. 

He watches the show, but he never takes his head away from her heartbeat.

---

Natalie Yoder has had easier nights than this one, that’s for fucking sure. She leans over the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of her, trying to figure out where they went wrong. This is one of their biggest grants, it’s a bit of funding that she has always relied on, and… denied approval for the upcoming fiscal year. 

Thousands of dollars she needs to feed and clothe and house her rescues, gone up in smoke, denied with a bloodless email and no ability to fight back, not for this one. Not this year. It could be a simple error, something she overlooked, sure. Or maybe the association that gives out the grants is suspicious of her story about transitioning homeless people into permanent housing, which really is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it?

Just… not the kind of homeless people the grant givers are imagining.

She’ll have to call Vince to beg for him to help her fill in the gap, and that will mean time for him to speak with his finance guy and get another couple of shell companies to funnel the money through so it doesn’t go back to him. He’ll give it to her, to be sure - Vince could give her the money to run this place flat out for the rest of his life and still be one of the wealthiest men in America, thanks to his low-key lifestyle and strong work ethic meaning he spends more time filming or producing than he does doing anything else.

Nat knows why Vince doesn’t want to be home, to sit up alone with a bottle or a glass in his hand. She knows his work ethic is simply escaping the demons that will never stop haunting his footsteps, what he traded away for his success, what he lost, what the money and fame can protect him from but can’t remove the stamp of it already written over his soul.

He’s famous, and rich, and Owen Grant can’t touch him now… but the tradeoff of Vince’s survival was that some innocent kid was abducted and turned, through drugs and torture and horrifying assault, into Kauri.

Kauri, who hasn’t answered the phone or sent a text in a week.

Not since that fucking group meeting where Chris was assaulted and Kauri stood up for him. Not since Kauri’s intuition that Kyle had some less-than-savory interest in Chris had proven correct, because… it wasn’t intuition at all.

It was experience. 

Nat groans, rubbing her hands over her face, closing her eyes and reminding herself, teeth ground together, to try and stay calm. It’s not unusual for Kauri to disappear for a while, a week or more. It’s not a sign that something is wrong. He was hurt by Nat pushing him, he needs time to think. 

He’ll pop right back up again, smiling like nothing happened, like he isn’t giving Nat gray hairs (well, new ones, anyway) trying to tell herself he’ll be okay.

All she can do is trust that he’ll come back when he’s ready.

... and castigate herself for letting that fucking predator get close to Chris without picking up on what he was planning, and for not realizing Kauri wasn’t just being overprotective of a younger rescue, but - in his own way - waving giant red flags that Nat, and Jake, and everyone else just didn’t see.

That, and then losing the grant, have made for one hell of a fucking week.

Nat takes deep breaths. Her hands smell like dish soap and a hint of the roasted garlic she’d put in the soup for supper lingering. The kitchen still smells like the garlic, roasted parsnips and rosemary. Chris had never had parsnips before-

Not that anyone knows if he really hasn’t or not.

“Oh, Nat, you are a mess tonight,” She mutters to herself. “Just full-on moping, huh? That’s how we’re gonna play it?”

Then she hears the soft scrape of a foot on the tile and looks up, blinking, to see Chris in the doorway, leaning against the wood of the frame, the big purple fuzzy blanket she’d gotten him a few weeks back wrapped around his narrow shoulders, the hints of faded muscle that still linger there. Usually he’s draped in Jake’s clothes but tonight he’s only wearing his basketball shorts, no shirt at all.

The rare glimpse of so much of Chris’s skin - she hasn’t seen so much of him since the night he arrived in the pouring rain - tells Nat more than anything else that Chris isn’t okay, either. 

“Hey, Chris. What’s up, sweetheart?” Nat glances over at the oven, squinting at the clock, and then groans. “Jesus, it’s nearly 2 am. I lost track of time, I guess.”

Chris doesn’t move from the doorway, not at first. He’s gone quiet again, since the assault, regressing back into periods of stillness and silence that they were so sure he’d gotten past. Jake says he’s testing again, trying to push Jake and Antoni into repeating the patterns that were tortured into his mind as normal, reacting with relief at their rejections - and then testing again, within hours, reminding himself that they’ll never say yes.

Nat looks at him, the shadows under his green eyes, and tries, “Did you have a nightmare?”

He slowly nods, and she watches his hands twist a little into the soft fabric of his blanket, rhythmically twisting to the side and back, nearly invisible with how well he can hide what he does to soothe himself, a skill taught in all the worst ways, learned in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane.

“Hm. I can see that. Was it about the meeting, the other night?”

His eyes dance away from hers, move to the ceiling, and he’s staring upwards at the rough texture up there as he nods, chewing on his lower lip with his top teeth, worrying at a spot that she knows he’ll eventually work to bleeding, sooner or later. He pauses and says, softly, “Kauri… didn’t come find me. That was, was my... my dream. And... it. It hurt.”

His voice, slow drips of speech, hits Nat like a knife to the heart. She nods, slowly, and pushes herself up, chair scraping back across the tile. Chris flinches minutely at the sound, curling a little into himself. “I understand, sweetheart,” She says, softly. “I’m so sorry we didn’t know sooner.”

She thinks, looking at him, of Daniel in the lion’s den, an old Bible story that’s never left her. Daniel trusted God and walked out unscathed, but she’s always thought maybe he wasn’t quite as unscathed as the Bible wants you to think he was. 

It’s one thing to have faith that you’ll survive being thrown in with monsters - it’s another to be so inhuman that you don’t wake with nightmares, for months or years after, that you were never saved at all. She is certain, deep down inside of her, that Daniel dreamed of a lion’s teeth and a promise broken, a prayer unheard.

The stories talk about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in a furnace walking out of the flames untouched, but of course the flames had still touched them. Scars aren’t always written openly on your skin. 

Of course they dreamed of flames scorching their skin, curling their hair, smoke stealing breath from their lungs. They, like Daniel, must have woken gasping, certain that their faith had been misplaced, that their trust that someone stood between them and the monsters who would destroy them had been betrayed.

They must have breathed, panting, in the middle of the night, and sworn they could still see the smoke in the air, feel the heat against their skin. 

They must have needed to come fully awake to remember - and believe - that they had been rescued. They must have needed the reminder.

Chris has no scars from walking with monsters - all his scars are inside his head. Chris’s scars come in his fear that she will not want him, that no one really wants him, when he can’t fight back or say no or defend himself, when he needs someone else to be his defense, to go to war. They come in his insistent, constant testing of Jake, pushing to see if it’s all been a lie, if they only want to use him the way he has been taught he is made to be used.

“Kauri was smarter than any of the rest of us,” Nat says, feeling suddenly exhausted. “We should have listened. I shouldn’t have had to step in. You deserved better.”

Chris deserves a fucking angel to lead him untouched out of the flames.

All he has is Jake - and Nat. 

She fills a saucepan with cold milk while he watches her, his eyes on her back a tangible, palpable weight, and pops a lid on, turning the dial until the flames flicker up from the burner to start heating it to a simmer. 

“I’m going to have hot chocolate the old fashioned way,” She announces, pulling down a bag with some discs of melting chocolate in it. They cost too much and mostly nobody notices the difference, but tonight… tonight, she thinks the extra effort is worth it. “You want whipped cream on yours, when it’s done?”

“Yes, please,” He whispers, and she looks over at him with a small smile. His hair is mussed still from sleep, a hint of red on his cheek where he must have had it pressed into a pillow. His freckles stand out in the thin light of the kitchen’s overhead light fixture. 

Next door, at Miss Ruth’s, a light turns on, and Nat glances through her own window to see it. Jaden, probably - that kid sleeps about as little as Chris does.

“Well, good, because I’m having some, too.” She pauses, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. There’s a long silence that draws out between them. The milk heats, bubbling just the tiniest bit around the edges in the saucepan, and Nat carefully drops in the chocolate discs to melt whisking until the liquid is a rich brown, thickened, ready for her to pour carefully into two mugs and top with the spray-bottle whipped cream she keeps in the fridge.

Nat sets the mugs down on the kitchen table, pulling Chris a chair up right next to hers. He relaxes a little at the tacit, silent request for closeness, drops into his chair with a slight smile playing over his face. He picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip, getting whipped cream at the end of his nose, wiping it off with a scrunched-up expression that lifts some of the fatigue that dogs Nat’s muscles in the early-morning hours.

“I know the dreams are scary,” Nat says softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He looks over at her, with those giant green eyes in his narrow face, searching for something in her. Maybe just for certainty that the promises she’s made to him will be kept. “But Kauri did come to help you. And you’re safe here, with us. We’ll always come for you, Chris, no matter what.”

He leans over, with slow inevitability, until the top of his head brushes against her neck, his head just at her collarbone. She lets her arm slide around his shoulders, her hand moving to run fingers slowly through his fine, soft coppery hair. “I, I, I forgot how to say no,” He whispers, and presses his head against her. 

“I know, honey. But that’s okay, we get back up and try again, right?” Nat sips her own hot chocolate slowly, and Chris holds his cupped warm in his palms, but even as he keeps taking sips, he doesn’t pull away from her. Eventually, he puts the mug back down on the table and shifts a little, so his ear is just over her heart.

“We, we, we try again,” He whispers. “But, but, but I don’t want to, to, to, I don’t-... want to be, um, to be scared again, to… have someone-”

“I know.” Nat swallows, her throat closing, briefly, but she fights it back and keeps her voice - and her hand through his hair - steady as she speaks. “There are going to be bad people out there, Chris, who want to hurt you. But you’re not alone.”

She thinks again of Daniel, waking from nightmares of gnashing teeth, maybe kicking off blankets and pacing a room, his skin written invisibly with the aftermath of a terror that never punctured skin. She thinks of three men in a fire, dreaming again and again that the fourth never arrived to lead them out of the flames.

She thinks of promises made, and kept. Prayers spoken in desperation, and answered, although so often far too late.

She thinks of the prayers for mercy, in the cold white rooms, that are never heard at all.

She’s tired, but she loves them - all of them, who have passed through her doors and gone on to other places - and she can’t imagine being anything but their army, their defense, the wall they can hide behind to rebuild themselves until they fight on their own. 

Not on their own, though, never really on their own.

She may never know what happened to him, to bring him here to her doorstep - but she knows that he doesn’t have to face the monsters, the flames, the danger alone. Not anymore.

“You’re safe here,” She says, gently, and turns her head to rest her chin on top of his head. “You’re safe here, and loved, and there’s nothing we won’t do to make sure you’re safe. Whatever comes at you, sweetheart, we’ve got you. And we’ll fight it for you, every time, until you can fight for yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, in a whisper, “Do, do, do you you-you promise?”

“Promise, Chris. Cross my heart and hope-”

“Don’t-... don’t say the, the end of it.” His voice weakens. “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” She tightens the arm around his shoulders a little, and feels him snuggle closer in response, a low sigh of relief at the reassurance in the embrace. “Swear on everything. I’ve got you, and Jake has got you, and we’re not gonna disappear. I don’t-... I don’t know if we can always save the day for you, Chris, but I can promise you that we will always try.”

He hums, eyes closing. One of his hands slides over her stomach, and begins - slight, soft, barely-there - to tap. 

It takes Nat a few seconds to realize that he is tapping along to the beat of her heart.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 14 rewatch thoughts, in which there is much ado about Looking

let’s get the most Look heavy out of the way first lol

- the scene of din holding the silver ball is shot from below, like we often get when we’re in baby’s POV because grogu’s almost always gazing up at him. so the camera/audience is looking at him through the child’s eyes still, in a way, just to emphasize the connection even more. h e l p  m e

that firmly established ‘din looks down, baby looks up’ rhythm paying for itself yet again 😭😭😭 also I love the effect that because of the smoke it looks like he’s standing in a serious thunderstorm, while the sky is actually really bright and lit up with only light cloud cover from other angles. it plays into this thing that... this is basically the end of the world for him, and barely anyone else knows or cares. he or the baby never appear in the sequels, din doesn’t have a huge ~*destiny*~ within the Force, his world is so much smaller than what we’re used to in star wars -- his grief at having it come crashing down around him is only a black cloud around him, it doesn’t block out the sun on a galactic scale ala anakin skywalker. he’s not Important. except actually he’s the MOST IMPORTANT, perhaps exactly because of that. (he certainly is to me) y’know? well I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, I’m not sure I know. but my heart is so full.    

- for a good portion of the scene where din is picking through the ashes of the razor crest (;_____________; still not over it) boba is actually looking at fennec looking at din

more precisely he seems to be looking at her while din is looking at the silver ball, and is looking at din and having some kind of Emotion while din finds the beskar spear

hm. I am now exTREMELY curious to know what boba and fennec’s relationship is actually like in more detail. strictly canonically I’m pretty sure there shouldn’t be enough of an age difference that he could sort of be a father figure, but... there’s something here, some parallells being drawn

the shots of them right before din finds the ball is interesting too -- you have fennec looking at din with a pained flinching sort of sympathy

and then she looks down and glances half towards boba like she’s checking in with him out of the corner of her eyes, but she’s not seeking gaze contact at all, she’s not asking him about anything or even initiating contact (it comes across better in motion but this was the best I could do to show it)

presumably they’ve already decided they’re going to help din, from the matter of fact way they inform him about it right afterwards, but there’s something complicated going on here within fennec at least, I think, it makes me want to know more about her backstory. (boba does look at her when he says they’ll help, and he’s trying to meet her eyes even if she doesn’t reciprocate)

and then at the very end of that scene boba is looking at fennec again, and she’s finally meeting his eyes and they both seem pretty satisfied and pleased (I guess doing the right thing has not necessarily figured hugely in either of their careers lol)   

sideline but boba has so many excellent Stances in this episode, it’s wonderful. he looks so steady and grounded

- also boba and fennec are close enough that the smoke actually affects their point of view for now and darkens their world too. how’s that for a metaphor for empathy hahaha 

- it’s actually quite sweet of boba to take the time to explain his own state of mandalorian-ness to din, like he’s at least eliminating the one source of uncertainty and tension that it’s in his power to remove haha  

(I wonder if he’s also gauging din’s reaction to the concept of foundlings? I’ve seen some people theorize that it might not be a recognized tradition across all of mandalorian space (then again... what even is, the only true mandalorian trait is accusing someone else of not being mandalorian right) and that it was one of the apples of cultural discord in the civil wars)

- the whole journey boba’s face goes on as he watches din with the spear... I do not understand what it is exactly but I am OBSESSED with it, his eyes are doing some things and it makes my heart feel funny

he pretty quickly glances away with a sharp inhale of breath that’s some shade of ‘well. fuck.’, but I can’t quite tell you exactly what’s going on there haha

- okay so honestly -- maybe we find a force user to train the baby and maybe we don’t, but not having din be an active part of that training either way would be a fucking CRIME. din clearly just has so much fun being able to engage with him like that, as does the baby, and it gets results. if someone shows up to help with this I hope they have the insight and flexibility to understand that. (listen to baby’s excited squeal and din’s breath of laughter before he encourages ‘come on, you can do it’! it’s consistently the most engaged and happy we see din and baby obviously feels safe doing this with him when he doesn’t with anyone else, come ON)

- the soft soft mando and baby music kicking in when din gives grogu the silver ball back and tells him he’s special T_______T oh my actual god  

- I love the way boba’s just... studying din all the way through their first meeting, it’s such a look of cold, dispassionate but not necessarily unkind evaluation. that’s the gaze of a bird of prey or something, it’s perfect (his eyes have softened significantly when looking at din towards the end of the episode, I guess that whole father son situation hit a tender spot huh lol)

- din’s shoulders rise up immediately when fennec starts talking about the bounty on grogu :’)

it also seems he’s a little 😬 about being in such a hurry back in chapter 5 that he missed that she wasn’t actually, y’know, dead haha, he slumps a bit uncomfortably and there’s also the “I owe you one” later on

- oh to have the utter yet unwarranted confidence of this storm trooper behind a minigun, still blasting away as the boulder crushes me

- I want to say something to gideon about what sorts of things a man must be compensating for to take the time to gleefully gloat at AN ACTUAL BABY, but thankfully I’m way too classy for that

- fennec shand using her entire strong but slender sniper’s frame to push that boulder off the cliff... poetry

I love that one pose she does jumping backwards off the stones at one point too, it’s so graceful, she looks like a dancer

- this entire scene of boba fett fucking eliminating storm trooper after storm trooper is doing some stuff to me, I can’t lie

it’s so AWESOME to see a mando interact with their armour in the same natural and expert way as din -- bo katan & co didn’t really have that many surprises and tricks to theirs, it’s more sleekly functional, boba and din’s have a different feeling to them, more personal to them and lived in, in a way (probably because they work alone much more often and need some tricks up their sleeves)

bo katan’s armour is for War and has been for generations, theirs is more just to Live as themselves? does that make any sense?   

- I wonder what it feels like for din to try to push through the force barrier - he’s making sounds not just of exertion but with a little bit of pain to it?

- I really like that when boba says “I was aiming for the other one” fennec clearly knows he’s not joking, she doesn’t smile or anything. it makes it feel like they actually know each other quite well at this point

- grogu makes small sleeping baby noises when he’s passed out on top of the stone Y____________Y  

- genuinely touched by how much better boba’s armour looks in the next episode, after him having it back for like a week max. LOVE what this show does with the relationship between a mandalorian and their armour and how it’s almost a living thing when it’s with them, and dead when it’s taken away

- the way boba leans forward a little in his seat when he spots the big ship *chef kiss* it so instinctively reads as him watching something dangerous, and after seeing the way he went through all those troopers like a hot knife through butter you fucking KNOW that if he’s unsettled you’re damn well unsettled too haha

[vampcubus]

just because im obsessed with izuku's thighs,,, imagine just.... teasing him in public with your hand on his thigh, or sucking his dick and palming his ass. i just- thAT MAN GOT C A K E

A/N: Ay, you get me on a spiritual level 😍💦

Warnings: nsfw!!, thigh-lovin’/appreciation, public spicyness.

Words: 1000+ (can u tell how passionate i am about his thighs??)

.   .   .

Teasing + Izuku’s Thighs Appreciation™ | Scenario

Teasing Izuku was always fun.

He would startle, he would gasp and stutter, blush so dark you feared he’d turn purple. But the best part was the whine that would escape his lips whenever you moved out of reach, apologized like it had been an accident despite you both knowing that was far from the truth, or pretended to be oblivious.

Before Izuku became intimate with you, he had been very insecure about his body. Shocking I know, he’s sculpted like a god with the most adorable freckles cheeks and forest green eyes. But the way you worshipped him made him choke on his insecurities, forget them in the moment your lips would touch his body, finger dancing over every raised scar. You were very much a giving lover and he wondered every day what he did to deserve you. You spoiled him with compliments when he couldn’t meet your eyes. You showered him in kisses and reassurance with every passing day, even when he himself didn’t even realize how anxious he was really feeling.

But you were such a damn tease!

Izuku shivered and cut himself off with a shuddering gasp mid-sentence when he felt your fingers touch his thigh under the table at a cafe you always went to with the rest of your friends. He looked to the side to meet your eyes, which are trained on Ochako as you continue your pleasant conversation like nothing had happened. 

“Is something wrong, Midoriya?” Todoroki’s cool-toned voice inquired, and the green-haired hero snapped his attention back to him.

“Oh n-no, I’m fine, just a… I just spaced out for a moment there.” Midoriya laughed sheepishly, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Please, continue.”

For a while your hand remained still and tame, only resting on his mid-thigh. He almost forgot that it was there. That is until you started to slide your palm across his thigh, caressing the plushy muscle beneath your fingers as a shudder rattled his bones under your touch. What were you doing?

Izuku gulped down his suspicion, attempting to maintain conversation with his two-toned friend. Although he was only half-listening, his body hyper-aware of your teasing fingers drifting up and down his thigh. He swore that each time you rubbed back up, you moved a bit higher up. As your fingers inched ever closer to the space between his amazing thighs, he felt himself twitching to life. He couldn’t be getting hard with all these people watching! Still, he felt himself swell and grow within the confines of his now tight pants. But, just as your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the zipper, your hand drifted back to his knee, rubbing soothing circles around it.

He felt a pang of both disappointment and irritation spark within his chest as you only continued to tease. Shifting his eyes to the right, he met your own glinting with mischief as you gazed at him in your peripherals. There was a dull flame ignited behind your eyes, pupils blown larger than before as you watched him fidget.

Your hand slid back up his thigh, this time not hesitating to press down on his half-hard cock through his pants, drawing a harsh intake of breath from your boyfriend as he bit down on his lip to discourage any more noise from escaping. Your fingers kneaded the spot, index finger and thumb stroking the shape of his length through his pants until his hips started to twitch up into your hand. The moment his hips bucked your hand left. He barely held in a whine, thighs shaking as he stubbornly tore his gaze from you and back to Todoroki to continue speaking with him. He stumbled over his words a great deal more but otherwise put up a decent fight. Meaning you would have to step up your game.

Izuku’s lips parted and his face exploded with color as your hand groped at his erection more directly, eyes foggy and unfocused. And that’s how you left him for the rest of the time you spent at the cafe, your hand absent from his needy body as you innocently smiled and talked with your friends. Not fair. Not fair at all.

.   .   .

Another time you had him pressed against the cold lockers of a dim hallway, lips skittering across his freckled cheeks and jaw. You had a knee pressed between his twitching thighs, grinding against his crotch as your hand squeezed a handful of his ass. His breathing was labored and erratic, hands grabbing at any inch of you he could reach, starved for something. He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for, but you seemed to be intent on keeping it out of reach as you chuckled and teased him with your honey-sweet praises and inquiries of what he wanted. Every time you would ask he would blush and turn his head away stubbornly, lips sealed as his embarrassment kept him from giving you the pleasure of his response.

With your tongue dragging up the shell of his ear, your hands palming his ass and your hips rocking against his, thigh grinding against his cock, he felt his breath quicken. His resolve began to crumble as his hips began to rut against your thigh.

“Still not talking huh, Izzy? Fine then, I guess I’ll let you go back to class then.” And with that you pulled away, taking the friction and warmth with you as you untangled yourself from him.

Even you were surprised when he practically threw himself at you, pawing and tugging at you, desperate pleadings for you to stay tumbling from his lips as the tears finally started rolling down his cheeks. You smiled and his begging silenced by your lips pressing against his. But you weren’t going to indulge him until you heard him say what you wanted. He knew the rules.

“I’ll ask you again, Izuku. What do you want?” You asked, eyes burning into his own as your lips brushed against the bruise on his jaw.

You’d never heard him beg like he did in that moment, so shameless and honest it even made you blush.

[fanficsandfluff]

Squealing Santa 2k20: Her Place

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Emily, JJ

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to @ticklishraspberries​!!! I was so excited to see this prompt because I have NEVER written w|w fics. like.... maybe one. maybe two. IT’S NOT A LOT OK. (side note: why do i feel like we’ve been each other’s gifters for a couple years now??? or at least i’ve written for you more than once. idk but it’s an honor bc you’re a legend). Also my writing block has been so severe ever since the end of tickletober. So I legitimately woke up at 2:00am on Christmas Day because I had a SMIDGE of inspiration to finally sit and write this fic up. I’m nervous as hell because I am still only on like Season 2 of CM, so my characterization of the characters is solely based on what I know up to that point. 

Okay, enough rambling, get to the fic, Michelle. Another thank you to @ticklygiggles for hosting Squealing Santa this year! 

~~~

The two-days-before-Christmas-Christmas-Party came and went and things went shockingly smoothly for the crew at the BAU. JJ twitched every time her cell buzzed in her pocket, flicking it open and checking to make sure they were indeed clear of any new cases for the time being. At least for the holidays, she prayed. 

Emily took note of how not-into this night JJ was. It was strange to her because she understood (at least from her minor experiences at fun times with the BAU) JJ was usually a life of any party. Emily started telling jokes to her table of her, JJ, and Penelope. JJ would laugh but it wasn’t anything groundbreaking. And yeah, she noticed her checking her phone a lot. 

“Hey,” Emily leaned in a little closer to JJ to get her to hear her over the noise in the bar, “The world isn’t going to end if you click your phone off for the night.”

Wow, what an inconsiderate thing to say, Emily. Nice one. 

JJ smiled sadly at Emily, “I’m that much of a downer, huh?”

“No! No, honey, not at all,” Emily reached her hand over and placed it on JJ’s, “Sorry I said anything. This job is just... ooof,” she made a groan come out like a huff and she and JJ giggled together at the noise. 

“I knohow. I know,” JJ brushed her blonde locks behind her ear, “Habit, I guess.”

“Come over to my place after,” Emily said maybe too brazenly. 

“Tonight?”

“Was ‘after’ not clear enough?”

The women smiled at each other, and it was only after this few seconds of staring that Emily realized she still had her hand over JJ’s. She lifted it off and offered to get them both another drink. 

Drinks, bad jokes, and only one more check of her cell later, Emily and JJ walked to her apartment, not far from the bar. They were both equally tipsy and Emily noticed how much gigglier JJ was getting as the hours of the night wore on. Drink to blame, definitely. But there was something else. An added element Emily couldn’t quite place yet. JJ would bump into her during their walk, and at the bar she seemed to get more handsy with her, poking and shoving and hugging. Emily buzzed them in and she unlocked the door to her place, realizing at that moment that JJ hadn’t ever been up here before. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I would offer booze, but--”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever you got.”

Emily’s brows raised, not unlike the look she gave when disbelieving how crazy some of the cases they worked on were. He did what to their kneecaps? Yeah, ew, ok, no work think tonight. 

JJ went and ran her fingertips over the countertop in the kitchen as Emily hurried to get together some wine for the two of them. Wine is a better close to the night than tequila, she figured. 

“You have a... really nice place,” JJ said through a near gasp as she turned the corner and went further into the living room space. She stared at the Washington Monument in view from the window. 

“Thank you,” Emily said, walking over and handing JJ a glass, “Merry Christmas,” she smiled and clinked her glass to JJ’s. 

“Merry Christmas,” JJ said in return. 

Emily got JJ over to her couch and the two sat and chatted. It was fun. Genuinely. They were just talking about everything and anything other than the BAU and it was wonderful. Emily snorted and barked out a loud laugh when JJ got very animated over a point she was trying to make. It was just too adorable. 

“Dohon’t make fun of me, you know I’m right!”

“I’m not making fun! Some part of me is believing that but I think it’s only because you’re the one telling me.”

JJ leaned into the back of the couch, already comfortable and curled up into it. Something like a blush creeped up her neck to her ears. 

“You still laughed at me.”

“Alright, yes, Pop Tarts have gotten smaller.”

“And everything else!”

“I got it--”

“Donuts, too!”

Emily laughed again, so wrapped up in the silliness and joy of the moment, that she just reached over and gave JJ’s sides a pinch. JJ jerked, her legs spazzing. 

“Hehey!”

“Ohohoho...” Emily covered her hand over her mouth when that embarrassing chuckle made its way out, but this was too good a discovery.

She scratched her nails over JJ’s kneecap and the media liaison squeaked, batting at Emily’s hand, “Plehease don’t.”

“I must,” Emily sounded earnest but then she went for the kill, digging her fingers into JJ’s sides. JJ slid down the couch until she was on her back, lost in laughs and higher-pitched giggles. There was something about how rough Emily was being with her tickles, but it still felt teasy when her nails came into play. 

“E-Emily!”

“I’d love to hear another conspiracy, please, Jay,” Emily chided and she scritched her nails against JJ’s belly after sliding her hand under her sweater. 

JJ cackled at the initial contact and arched her back, “Dohohon’t patronize m-meheheHEE!” 

It had only been maybe a minute of tickling, but Emily was certain her favorite spot was JJ’s belly. It came with such a variety of reactions depending on how pressure was applied. Dipping a finger into her bellybutton brought forth a snort. And Emily melted on the spot. A snort! From JJ! Emily was used to knowing that her own laugh usually came accompanied with snorts, it was just how her laughter came out. But to think JJ could make the same noise, but somehow so much cuter...!

“Ahaww,” Emily cooed, unable to help herself. To cap off JJ’s tickle attack, she pinched, stroked, scratched, and dug everywhere. Madly. Up, down, sides, back up again, neck, socks, it was so rapid fire that JJ was lost in her highest laughter yet, frantic and desperate.

Emily found herself leaning over JJ by the end of it all, watching her breathe and giggle herself back to composure. 

“Thahat... You... I cahan’t,” JJ covered her hand over her eyes, “Evil.”

Emily snickered. JJ lifted her hand from her face and was smiling so broadly. She booped Emily’s nose. She had such a great nose, too. Unique. Not a princess nose by any means, but it made her so... 

JJ leaned up just as Emily tilted her own head downward, and their lips collided. 

JJ’s phone did not buzz the rest of the night, nor did she find the need to obsessively check it. No, not tonight. Tonight they were good. For the holidays. 

[sometimesrosy]

What elements make B/E such an obvious romantic obstacle to B/C, narratively, etc?

A lot really. I mean, first, with that time jump, we needed to see that Bellamy had grown and moved on from the trauma of earth. Who better to show that transformation than the grounder who represented betrayal and brutality and murder and war to him? The one who betrayed him and almost killed his sister and held him captive. To forgive HER means he’s over the s3 bizness where he treated all grounders as the enemy who deserved death just for existing in some cases. We SAW him learn the lessons, but with the time jump and B/E he now INHABITS it. He’s grown from it. 

There’s also the parallels between CL and B/E. first alliance, then betrayal, then kidnapping, then working together, then saving from sucide, then forgiveness, then love. I know some people consider CL to be endgame, but my theory here is based on CL being over, for important reasons within the narrative. So to parallel two relationships that are important and transformative, but not endgame, and to show the longer pace of B/E which shows that Bellamy was healthier than Clarke was, is a sign of character development.

Bellamy needed a relationship in order to move forward on the ship, so he wasn’t a wreck. He needed to be a whole person, who COULD live without Clarke, because the Bellarke relationship is a relationship of equals, and it’s NOT codependent. They don’t fill in the holes of the other person. They are not INCOMPLETE without each other, They needed to be shown as complete people on their own. So showing that he’d not been destroyed by her loss meant having him accept love, accept that he deserved love. Therefore, he needed a healthy relationship. 

OKAY. This turned out to be A TOTAL EPIC post. And it’s too long so after the jump. STay tuned.

IT COULD NOT BE RAVEN. Wanna know why? Because Raven has her own journey. And she CAN NOT be second choice, because of her problems with finn and clarke in s1. Raven needs someone to be head over heels over her, if she’s going to have anyone. And if Bellamy had been in a relationship with Raven, CLARKE would always be standing between them. And with Clarke’s resurrection, Bellamy’s SOULMATE, Raven would be cast into second place, thus ruining Raven’s character arc, and putting Clarke into the SAME narrative of being the other woman, without any development. This would be a failure of storytelling, lacking growth and transformation which is NECESSARY for this story. 

As long as Bellarke is endgame, Br/aven could NOT happen. If Bellarke is NOT endgame, Br/aven is actually the CLEAR AND OBVIOUS choice for Bellamy’s next relationship. They already love and respect and like each other. Raven is a major character. The audience loves and wants them both happy. If Bellarke were not endgame, then Br/aven would have been. If Bellarke were PLATONIC, for real? Then Br/aven should have been developing all this time. But since Bellarke is an endgame romance, Br/aven CAN NOT happen romantically. 

THUS they needed a character to be his romance, to show him moving on, but it couldn’t be a character who was TOO essential that we would replace Bellarke with that ship, as would have happened with br/aven. Although it also needed to be a character who was tied to the major issues we’ve been dealing with, someone who maybe reminds him a little of Clarke even. Enter Echo. betrayals, ruthless, sneaky, beautiful, cheated in the conclave, almost killed his sister, does whatever she has to to save her people, loyal. 

I’d also like to bring up Echo’s name. And I think her name DOES matter. At first I thought it was because she was an ECHO of CL and that betrayal for Bellamy.  The myth of Echo, as the nymph who pined after Narcissus didn’t make sense to me, as Bellamy wasn’t a narcissist in love with his own reflection... UNTIL someone made the point that the classical concept of soulmates was one soul split into two bodies, so a person and their reflection COULD be a metaphor for this soulmate concept. Which made Bellamy in love with his reflection/soullmate Clarke, which now ENTIRELY fit the Echo and Narcissus myth. Echo is in love with Bellamy who is obsessed with his soulmate Clarke (who in s6 was ‘behind the glass’ like a mirror image! huh. Who was it that posted that theory!? that sounds like a confirmation to me.) Now again, Clarke and Bellamy are separated by this distance, and Echo goes in to find him? I hope Echo doesn’t fade away like her namesake did, but it’s possible. But Narcissus also dies at the river, in love with his reflection, becoming flowers, right? This actually fits my spec that Bellarke will “die” but in reality just be separated from their family and live out their lives in pastoral happily ever after. Anyway. The myth of Echo and Narcissus, means Echo is NOT the soulmate.

Also. JR said Clarke and Bellamy were soulmates. And fine, I don’t use commentary in my analysis... but I do if it fits, and this fits. They are SHOWN as being soulmates from season 4 AT LEAST. “you center her.” “you got it backwards.” for an example. 

Okay, but now lets get to the narrative. What I told you before is more about storytelling and tropes and character development. Or HOW you tell a story. Now we’ll get to canon evidence. There’s still some storytelling in there. I’m gonna start with s5, because that’s when romantic b/e showed up.

This was the big sign to me of what was going on with Bellarke and B/E.

The first episode of s5 was almost ALL Clarke. We were focused on her survival in the wastes. We were given access to her feelings and thoughts and pov. We were given her monologue.  Which was not a monologue.

It was a conversation, one way, with Bellamy. The voiceover of 5.01 was Clarke making her 2199 radio calls. Which is a romantic trope. They were, essentially like a diary, or love letters, or even a prayer, in a way. For that little bit of the story, in fact, huh. We could almost think of that whole episode as being Clarke’s tales of survival, told to Bellamy as a kind of epistolary tale. What we see IS what she said to Bellamy. Hmm. That’s interesting.

ANYWAY. My point was. The audience is put square inside Clarke’s head, and her head is “why haven’t you come home,” and talking to Bellamy and missing him.

THEN we get the scene where Clarke is talking to Madi about them, and missing them and then the camera pan up through the stars to Bellamy looking down on them, unknowingly, at the valley.

THIS IS THE MOST POETIC THE MOST ROMANTIC SHOT IN THE WHOLE SHOW. MAYBE IN EVERY SHOW EVER. It is a poem. She yearns for him, across time, beyond the stars, and he’s looking down on her, thinking she is dead, and the INFERENCE is that he’s yearning for her too, past death.

A love that literally lasts past death time and space. ULTIMATE EPIC LOVE STORY. And they are finally going to be reunited. AH, resolution for their separation and their love.

AND THEN... dun dun dunnnn, the plot thickens. 

Out of nowhere, the reveal that Bellamy and Echo ARE LOVERS. 

BAM! OBSTACLE. more, ROMANTIC obstacle. 

Clarke’s yearning was romantic in nature. We don’t see inside Bellamy’s head, but making the obstacle to their reunion no longer tech, but instead an established romance, means that the narrative has set Bellarke on a romantic path. Because otherwise another romance would not be an obstacle. Heck, Echo is not against Clarke. Even when she was threatening her life she wasn’t really against Clarke. She gets her. As a leader and partner, she gets her. Echo is ONLY an obstacle if the goal is a romantic relationship between Clarke and Bellamy.

That it’s set up this way, as a shock, is part of the romantic narrative.

THIS is on purpose a slap in the face. Because the audience has been set up to want them to come home TO CLARKE, to want a Bellarke reunion and to FEEL that they belong together. 

THEN when Echo is sure things will change between them, and Bellamy assures her that nothing will change between them on the ground, this is what’s known as DRAMATIC IRONY. The audience knows that Clarke is alive, they know that the bellarke bond is epic, they know that Clarke is yearning in a romantic way, they know that when Bellamy finds out that Clarke is alive EVERYTHING will change with his relationship with E. 

But then, we get a misdirect, or rather, a plot obstacle to B/E. Octavia is not forgiving and she’s scarier than ever. 

B/E is set up from the VERY BEGINNING as a romantic obstacle.

Then to prove it, we get

Clarke’s VERY shocked and jealous face when B/E reunites and kiss. That the camera focuses on HER, shows her watching them, and not on THEM means the main emotional weight of the scene is not the lovely reunion between loving partners, (thank god you’re ok i was so worried i’m so glad to see you again love love love,) but rather on clarke. (omg bellamy is kissing someone. bellamy is not mine. heartbreak, jealousy, shock!) See the focus is NOT on the established relationship, the B/E leg of the love triangle, but on CLARKE, the pining one, the one whose love is unrequited. The soulmate.

IF B/E were endgame, the focus would have been on the relief of the reunited lovers. But we’ve just spent like two episodes on the reunited (non-romantic apparently) soulmates, and the CANON relationship can’t even get an infocus shot?

A close up of someone’s face means the narrative wants us to feel their EMOTIONS. We got lots of those when Clarke and Bellamy reunited, when they hugged, when they struggled to regain their connection. But with the B/E reunion. Their faces were obscured, not shown, blurred.

Ok. And YES, Bellamy then moves on to focus on Echo and B/E, and saving her from Octavia, and that is to show that B/E is real. Because no obstacle that is not made real is going to be enough to really scare the audience into worrying that it could stop our heroes from their goal. IT HAS to be real. But even while Bellamy is proving to O that he loves Echo, the focus is NOT really on B/E, but on the Blakes relationship.  And on Bellamy and Octavia. This is teaching us who they are now, after 6 years apart.

Then there’s a love scene between B/E, or half a love scene anyway. The beginning. It is cut off in the middle and cuts to CLARKE getting ready to leave.. Oddly, the music for the scene stays the same, which CONNECTS the two scenes. A LOVE SCENE cut with a LEAVING SCENE. An established romance confirmed, a pining soulmate leaving aka giving up. And in the next scene, we get this dynamic reinforced... however, there is a change. The romantic couple is confirmed again, while Clarke watches. HERE we are shown a closeup of her face, tears in her eyes, all about how she feels about their relationship, after the close up of their faces I think, and sadness and love yes. this is real. Then Clarke steps back, straighten her shoulders and accepts it. She won’t interfere. He’s not hers to love. HOWEVER, then Echo LEAVES. The established couple separates. And we turn to Clarke and Bellamy immediately he knew she was there somehow.  

While B/E are split up, Bellarke are brought back together, although at this point they are non romantic, with each member choosing Echo for him. And we spend many episodes with them rediscovering their soulmate bond and getting closer and more intimate as they do so. While Echo has her OWN narrative and it has nothing to do with Bellamy or b/E. 

This leads to Bellarke making pledges to each other, over her daughter, and he swears to take care of Madi when/if Clarke dies. Bellamy promises to parent his soulmates daughter while his canon girlfriend is off risking her life. They bond as, well, co parents. Making them a family unit, Mother, Father and Daughter, though no romantic or sexual relationship between the two? 

Not so fast.

“Another traitor who you love.” Octavia lays out the issue. Bellamy loves Echo. Bellamy loves Clarke. She is comparing Echo and Clarke in his love. This is a ROMANTIC love comparison. She’s goading him. He doesn’t take the bait. Because he has a plan. 

Bellamy sacrifices his sister for Clarke’s life. Poisoning her. His sister who has been established as the person who means more to him than anyone else in the world. When it was O or E? He chose O and let E go off on a suicide mission to win a place with wonkru. When it was O or C? He chose C and poisoned O. That is an equation. Bellamy loves these three women. C more than O. O more than E. C>O>E. When compared, Clarke wins over Echo. If Octavia made it clear that the love is romantic, then Bellamy made it clear that his love for Clarke is deeper than his love for Echo, even if he’s not ready to face that or deal with it.

AND THEN SHE LEAVES HIM TO THE PIT. He knew he’d betrayed Clarke, but it is confirmation to him that Clarke does not return his feelings. So, when that’s sorted out, he has a moment where he’s choosing between Clarke and Echo (the earth vs the sword, it’s a heavy handed bit of symbolism so we don’t miss it.) He chooses Echo. It’s the logical choice. Head over heart. 

MEANWHILE, Echo and Clarke are having their own life or death convo. In which we find out that Bellamy loves Echo, Echo loves Bellamy, Clarke always cared for Bellamy but thinks him dead at her hand. NOT SO FAST. Bellamy is alive, “oh now you care?” AND THEN, revelation from the past FlameLxa tells her love is not a weakness, she was wrong to betray Clarke (canon love) and Clarke should not do the same thing (betray her love bellamy.) Remember also CL and B/E are paralleled. Remember also all the same players were at MW the original betrayal. L walked away, Echo walked away, Bellamy was under the ground, and Clarke stayed to get to him. it’s just interesting. So in the end, Clarke betrayed ELigius, spares Echo and sends her daughter (another love equation. Clarke canon loved Lxa, but she tells Madi she loves her SO much more than Lxa. Now she risks her greatest love Madi to war in order to save Bellamy. Here’s the equation. Clarke loves Bellamy>Madi>Lxa. We have two equations using actions to prove a primacy in love. Clarke love Bellamy more than all of her other great loves. Bellamy loves Clarke more than all of her great loves.

HOWEVER B/E comes back together to fight. As a couple. It is a couple reunion, but not as romantic as their first reunion, or their goodbye. THEN, they are fighting together and it isn’t romantic. And from there to the end of the season, the B/E romance disappears. 

HOWEVER, Bellamy learns that Clarke cares for him so much that she called him every day for six years. That changes his perception of Clarke, and how Clarke feels for him, and when she urges him to come in, he says, broken, I can’t leave them behind. “Not again.” With the understanding that leaving HER behind was the trauma that he can’t do again. 

So where did B/E go? It doesn’t matter. It’s literally not important to the narrative. Echo literally goes to sleep. B/E is frozen. What is important. Bellarke’s intimacies of saying goodbye to their families and their connection that is still there. And THEN them waking up TOGETHER and facing the loss of Monty, the revelations, the new world AND the commitment to be better, to be the good guys, together.

Known: B/E is a canon relationship. Clarke loves Bellamy and has been pining for him for six years. Bellamy loves Clarke but has moved on though he cannot ignore his feelings for her. Bellamy CHOSES Echo, but Echo keeps disappearing from his story while he focuses on Clarke and their relationship.

HOW do I know Echo is the romantic obstacle and Bellarke is the endgame rather than Clarke being the romantic obstacle and B/E being endgame?

Because the story focuses on the deepening relationship fo Bellarke, while his attachment to Echo stops it from moving forward. It focuses on the FEELINGS of Clarke about B/E, but not the feelings of Echo about Bellarke. It is never even presented. Her feelings are absent, when if her ship was endgame it would be about her feeligns at least partly. Now we do seem BELLAMY’S feelings, but his feelings which start out as about Echo vs Octavia, who hates Echo, shift and become Clarke vs Echo... evenn though Clarke does NOT hate Echo and accepts her just fine. So what is the conflict?

The conflict is that he can’t have competing feelings fo Clarke if he loves Echo. That means his feelings are ROMANTIC.

YES. He does choose Echo near the end of s5. This is because Clarke leaves him to die. Not because his feelings for her are not as strong (remember C>O>E) but because HER feelings seem to show she doesn’t care about him. UNTIL Madi spills the beans, and then he shifts back to Clarke a bit, even though his choice is STILL Echo.

Bellamy loves Clarke but thinks Clarke doesn’t love him so he chooses Echo.

Clarke thinks Bellamy loves Echo and not her, so she refuses to show him or admit to him that she loves him and she attempts to move on and keep him as her “platonic” soulmate.

Echo loves Bellamy and Bellamy loves Echo but Echo has no idea Bellamy also loves Clarke or that he is deciding between Clarke and herself. She has no say in this narrative. It’s not about her. It’s about Clarke and Bellamy. She thought the problem was Octavia. And while that’s a problem, it doesn’t affect Bellamy’s feelings for her. 

Echo has done nothing to make him not love her. Their relationship has remained stable. The only change is that there is another love in the equation. That Clarke’s existence puts B/E into jeopardy means that the Bellarke love is AT LEAST as strong as the B/E love. Possibly more... the love equation says more, but we will get more proof of that in season 6.

When we actually see the love triangle thrown into comparison CONSTANTLY. S5 had Bellarke and B/E separated. We got very few shots of them all together, and when we do, it’s Clarke’s jealousy and dismay on display.

However in s6, right from the beginning, the shots have all three of them in view. With Echo between Bellarke or Clarke between B/E often. Oddly, we also see Echo supporting Clarke. Or not that oddly. They’re a lot alike. She’s not competitive with Clarke, though. Even though there IS a competition. She does’t know about it. We see Bellamy choosing B/E with Clarke on the outside in ep1, but by the time they get to Sanctum, we start to see Bellamy choosing Clarke, or Clarke AND Echo (come look at this echo) with his focus on Clarke not E. We see him REACHING OUT to Clarke. (commiserating about raising their adopted kids without school, then the radio calls conversation which she runs away from because she’s scared.) Even in the eclipse psychosis, he goes after Echo first, but then turns his attention to Clarke. Murphy gets in the way as he always does, but he ignores everyone else. 

As time goes on, though, we get a NEW dynamic. He’s starting to argue with Echo. It’s over Octavia mostly,  but Clarke and Bellamy use Octavia to speak about their feelings for one another, without admitting them, so is that happening here? He’s using the argument over Octavia to express his feelings of frustration and distance with Echo?

Look. I’ve been showing you the love triangle. It is a CANON love triangle, which means B/E is romantic and requited and Bellarke is romantic although it’s unrequited. 

I need to show the love triangle in order for B/E to be A ROMANTIC OBSTACLE.

But just showing the love triangle means it could be B/E that is the endgame and Bellarke that is the love triangle.

How do we know this isn’t the story? 

Well aside from the love equations. We see Bellarke get closer while we see B/E bickering constantly over tactics, over octavia, over feelings, in season 6a. Clarke talks to him about her regret over the pit. The making amends scene is actually pivotal in their relationship. In the C/B/E love triangle. 

He accepts Clarke’s amends, and her claim that he is so important to her. He didn’t want to talk about it. But she is open and they are intimate. Cut to Clarke being PHYSICALLY intimate with Cillian, and Bellamy looking on with all sorts of emotions in his face. Sorrow, happiness, pining, regret, jealousy, acceptance, longing, who knows? And we IMMEDIATELY get Echo coming up, trying to talk to him about Octavia, and him turning ViCIOUS on her, blaming her for not being human, not being emotional, not being open (which clarke just was and is.) He’s STILL watching Clarke.  B/E is falling apart, not because of anything that Echo did, but because of something that Clarke did, again. HER actions are the deciding factor, and HIS emotions are where the choice is coming in. Echo has no control over it. Her emotions don’t matter. Her actions don’t affect it. He is not a character who has agency over this storyline, over her own relationship. This scene leads to Clarke being betrayed at the same time that Bellamy apologizes to Echo and Echo, FINALLY, opens up to Bellamy about her past. 

For the first time, Echo has agency in how her relationship goes, and Bellamy admits he’s a dick and commits to Echo. NOW. If this story were ABOUT B/E as endgame, this would be the point where their relationship rises to new heights and becomes stronger.

Instead. Clarke dies. And Bellamy’s attention and emotions go to CLARKE. Even when she’s dead dead, all he can think about is not having Clarke, how it’s not living, Echo comforts him but it goes nowhere. Instead, we see him grieving ALONE. Echo is willing to destroy everyone, but Bellamy chooses what Clarke would do, and keeps everyone safe. 

Until he finds out Clarke is alive, and then all bets are off and it’s a race to bring her back, canon, “you only care about Clarke.”

Yeah.

True.

Another pivotal scene. Bellamy leaves Echo to take care of their people and goes with Josephine to save Clarke. Echo says “Go save Clarke,” which is a parallel to Clarke telling Echo to “go save him.” Echo let Bellamy go to Clarke the same way that Clarke let Echo go to Bellamy. 

We’ve now switched who the primary relationship is. It’s Bellarke, not B/E. Echo and Clarke made the choice to let the other woman “have him.” They gave up their claim.

Everything we see with Bellamy and Josephine acts as if Bellarke is romantic and the true love in his life. An epic love compared to Josephine and Gabriel DOZENS of times. And Bellamy’s last ditch save her from death scene is GLARINGLY romantic in the way that all the best fairytales are romantic. 

There was never anything to compare to this in the B/E story. 

The next morning, Bellarke talk about leaving Echo and spacekru behind to save Clarke, and Bellamy still isn’t willing for her to risk her life to save them, although she insists, and they agree to do it for Monty. SO MUCH INTIMACY. And Octavia witnessed it.

Their goodbye is more romantic and more intimate than Bellamy’s reunion with Echo, even though she was STATED as at risk and being in danger. She almost died. And all she got was a hug, much like he’d hugged Harper after the fighting pit. 

The hug when Bellarke is reunited, however, is cast in romantic buttery light, with emotional close ups of their faces, and a rather intimate discussion of feelings and pain, with a parallel to their OTHER hug outside Camp Jaha, which was one of the pivotal moments in their relationship. 

This in contrast to the pat on the back he gave Echo before this, and how Echo, who is standing right there, disappears from the scene.

The final scene after this Bellarke intimacy, has B/E back together. ExCEPT there is NO initmacy. He’s the leader, she’s the soldier. No feelings. Just defense and tactics.

From the beginning of season 6 to the end, Bellarke and B/E have switched placed. on the non-romantic/romantic scale. Comfort and intimacy goes to Bellarke. Team work goes to B/E. 

THE JOURNEY of the love triangle switches from the primary leg being B/E with a side order of Bellarke partnership, to Bellarke with a side order of B/E partnership.

Technically, because we’ve had no time to sort out all these emotional issues with B/E (although we kind of have with Bellarke) B/E is still the canon ship. 

But that’s just a matter of dealing with the plot point. Because the NARRATIVE is now about romantic Bellarke, and all that’s left to deal with in regards to the B/E romantic obstacle is how it ends. (And for Echo’s side, she has been focusing on Ash, and her own independence. They have set her up to have a self empowered storyline, which means she does not need and should not have a king anymore. Bellamy is her king, even now. And she needs to be her own person. Which means B/E is doomed even without Bellarke.)

Thus I have shown why C/B/E is a love triangle. Why Bellamy needed a relationship ANY WAY. I take for granted that Clarke was in love with Bellamy and he was her fantasy boyfriend over the time jump. That Bellarke is romantic as is B/E, that the show has created a love equation for both of them. How the love triangle is shown in s6. How B/E fades while Bellarke grows, and that B/E is the romantic obstacle while Bellarke is the soulmate endgame. 

I’m so tired now.

[cherryonigiri]

Okay so could you write a headcanon where 2 random boys (can you pick then? I love all of boys from hq) and Ushi-kun where they walk on their gfs fangirling or thirsting over another anime/game character?And she was talking how hot he is? How they would react?👀😂 have a great day/night and dont forget to eat and get rest, love you💕

A/N: hahahahaha i laughed while writing this. FYI these are all based on legit crushes i had on anime/game characters at some point in my life - see if you’ve watched the shows i’ve watched :) ILY I PROMISE I’M DOING MY BEST TO EAT THREE MEALS A DAY AND GET ADEQUATE SLEEP MWAH. also i went overboard and added an extra boy bc why not. These are a little shorter since there were 4 characters but I hope you enjoy!

Content warning: implied nsfw for Atsumu + slight nsfw hcs for Matsukawa (Matukawa’s hcs are below the cut - UPDATE TUMBLR IS NOT LETTING ME PUT THE CUT WHERE I WANT IT SO JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT THERE IS IMPLIED/SLIGHT NSFW FOR THE LAST 2 CHARACTERS

PS: If anyone wants a spicy sequel/one shot for matsukawa i’m open to the idea 👀👀 let me know in my inbox!

Ushijima Wakatoshi 

Ushijima definitely knows you’re into anime + games

Having visited your dorm room on multiple occasions he’s seen your extensive collection of manga, anime posters and you always seem to be playing on your switch whenever you have free time

Of course, he notices a significant portion of your collection is centered on male characters 

And you’ve definitely mentioned a few games to him - Ikemen Sengoku, Code:Realize, Hakuouki (wow i’m really out here exposing myself) etc. 

He doesn’t really mind though? Like - at the end of the day these are 2D men, whereas he is a very real boyfriend 

At least he thinks he doesn’t mind

Recently, he notices that you seem to be on your phone a lot, and you seem to be texting the same group chat very often

He asks why and you laugh - it’s not actual text messages you’re just trying out a new otome/simulation game called Mystic Messenger. He finds the name silly but he just brushes it off he’s definitely J E A L O U S

Until one day he walks into your room while you’re calling one of your friends to freak out about that specific game

You sound kind of teary from outside the door “Oh MY GOD OH MY GOD I GOT THE GOOD ENDING WITH JUMIN!” and “[friend name] I THINK I CAN DIE HAPPY I’M MARRIED TO JUMIN HAN WHAT MORE DO I NEED IN LIFE” and “HE’S SO FREAKING ATTRACTIVE UGH I AM BLESSED”

He’s like who TF is Jumin and immediately bursts into your room looking pissed off

Poor babie is all like “you’re married?” and “if you had someone else you were interested in you should have told me.” “Who is this Jumin Han???” 🧐

Oh my god you start cackling, but you manage to tell him that NO you are not married and that Jumin Han is a fictional character from the game you’re playing

Ushijima looks confused after you explain - why would you find fictional men attractive when you’re already dating him? 

Tendou almost dies laughing the next day when Ushijima tells him about what happened

Oikawa Tooru

Since practice finishes pretty late he usually goes to see you at your house at night, but tonight things wrapped up earlier - he’s excited to spend more time with you

You’ve finished up most of your homework so you’ve just been rewatching Attack on Titan since you’re super excited for the new season 

You’re kinda distracted/have headphones on so you don’t hear your boyfriend knock on the front door. Your mom answers it and lets him in and he climbs the stairs

He can hear your fangirling (freaking out) over something as he walks towards your room

You jump in surprise when he opens the door, because you thought he would be a bit later but immediately release your pent up excitement

“Tooru just LOOK at him he’s such a bad ass like oh my gosh he literally has swords and he’s still running around slaying the MPs who have guns. God whenever he gets angry he looks so hot,” etc. etc. 

You’re shoving your laptop in his face, showing him gifs and video of attack on titan, specifically the captain of the survey corps that you are obsessed with

Tooru gets it - for him its space, shitty alien films and astronomy. For you it’s video games and anime - or more specifically, handsome characters from said franchises

Even though he understand that it’s something you’re passionate about he still makes a whole show about whining how you’re in love with Levi Ackerman (lmao i still thirst over our favorite captain) instead of him

“y/n i’m taller than him! And more handsome! He has blood on him all the time! And he’s super annoying because he’s obsessed with cleaning.” *cue pouty Tooru*

You probably shouldn’t tell him that you are an avid follower of the levi x reader tag on tumblr 

Tooru still somehow finds out you’re also reading reader insert fanfic and goes BERSERK with his pouting and whining - literally everyone and their mothers have heard his sob story about how “his darling y/n is leaving me for a short germaphobic asshole” 

The rest of the team finds it hilarious - the end up pranking him by posting pictures of Levi in his school locker or texting them in the volleyball groupchat (Oikawa is Suffering™)

Makki and Mattsun get him a Levi keychain for his birthday and cackle when he chucks it violently into the nearest trash can 

Miya Atsumu

Doesn’t really know you’re into anime/gaming at first

I don’t think that’s on purpose - Atsumu just has such a one track mind when it comes to volleyball and he’s always busy with practice

so he just kinda doesn’t really give all the anime merch in your room a second glance even though it’s a dead giveaway

I bet Atsumu secretly watches some superhero anime - probably shounen stuff like My Hero Academia, one punch man etc. 

He probably starts to notice you’re into anime/games because you’ll play games on your phone/gaming device all the time 

One day he notices you’re giggling + blushing while looking at your screen. He’s curious to he heads over to you when coach says they can have a break

Peeks over your shoulder because he wants to know what you’re playing - but instead he’s greeted by some 2D samurai guy called Harada Sanosuke asking you to marry him 

“Huh, I didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff y/n” tries to sound playful but internally he is screaming / ?????? WOT I DIDN’T KNOW MY S/O WAS INTO OTOME GAMES

Atsumus pretty chill about it at first, he probably teases you a lot about playing the game but isn’t really bugged about it

“Maybe you should thirst over your boyfriend instead of a fictional character babe~”

I mean - he knows he’s attractive and why be jealous? You only really play the game when he’s busy and you don’t really let the game play seep into your dates/hangouts

But one time he walks in on you reading some ~spicy~ hakuouki x reader fanfic and he’s like are u serious

Like you were lowkey quiet screaming to yourself and muttering “omg omg omg” when he walked in and you definitely tried to close your laptop so he couldn’t see what was open in your browser

Too bad Atsumu has mad reflexes and manages to prevent you from making your computer go to sleep

Briefly skims whatever it was that you were reading and smirks at you 

“Hey, if you really want something like this, why don’t you let your real boyfriend deliver” before kissing you

Matsukawa Issei

Look, Issei just wants a chill movie/tv show night where the two of you can bundle up on the couch and binge whatever anime you feel like

Has everything set up - this man is ready to go: snacks? he has all of your favorites, couch? filled with soft pillows + multiple pillows. Attire? Comfy sweatpants shirtless 🥵

Last time he chose the series for your binge sleepover so he let you choose what the two of you were gonna watch this time 

Turns out you decided to watch Psycho-Pass - it seemed like a pretty cool show, he was down with the whole dystopia/psychological concept

Starts out pretty normal, is appreciating the action + mystery elements and is glad that you chose that show 

About halfway through the anime you two decide to take a break - he goes to the kitchen to refill your snacks, leaving to stretch you back.

When he comes back with more food, he notices that you’re hunched over your phone, typing something

He sneaks up behind you after he puts the food down, “Whatcha reading there babe?” You squeak and try to hide your phone, but not before he sees the words kougami x reader typed into your tumblr search bar

Lit-rally exCuSE me what - he’s not mad (more amused than anything else) but he also kind wants to tease you (bc Mattsun is a little shit) 

“Is that the reason you wanted to watch this show?” he asks playfully. “He’s pretty hot tho, I kinda agree with you there babe.” 

Now that he’s released the floodgate, he can’t stop your occasional comments like “omg how does he look so GOOD when he’s punching someone” or “he could shoot me with his dominator and i’d still say thank you” 

The thirst comments are kinda getting to him, so he decides to take things in a different direction

“Let me what I can show you with my dominator~” L M A O I’M SORRY THIS EXISTS

Suddenly you’re being pulled onto his lap, and pressed against his bare chest, Issei barely gives you time to adjust before he’s kissing you roughly, tongue plunging into your mouth

His hands wrap around your hips pressing your core closer to his own, and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your stomach 

He’ll be sure to suck a dark hickey onto the side of your neck and his hands travel under your shirt, just to remind you who your real boyfriend is 

Needless to say, you won’t remember a single thing about the second half of the show after the night is over couch sex? Couch sex 😏

general taglist: @bokutokoutaroo @sneezefiction