#he would be okay if it wasn't for the fact that he doesn't know how to shut the fuck up

[theweirdhybrid]

@where-does-the-heart-lie KICKS OPEN THE DOOR

OKAY I WENT BACK THROUGH AND FOUND ALL THE FORESHADOWING MOMENTS/HINTS I POSSIBLY COULD (i think. i could be reading too much into some of these + might've missed some) OF STELLY AND SALLY'S (AND APPARENTLY MANNY'S!!!!!!) TRUE INTENTIONS IN WITTB HERE WE GO (this was originally an ask but it was too long so I made it into a tumblr post lmao)

(and to anyone seeing this w/o context all art in this post belongs to Whery- the person I mentioned above- and it's from their One Piece fancomic Water is Thicker Than Blood and you should all go read it RIGHT NOW)

First up here we go WAYYY back in chapter 26 (almost two years ago!!! woah!!!!!!) we get the first mention of the letter!!! Stelly tells Sabo to wait until someone comes out, which I know was just him saying that so Sabo wouldn't leave, but imagine if Sabo had Actually waited. Can you imagine how long it could've taken for Sabo to realize Stelly lied?? Definitely would've added to his anger. And Stelly also mentions he wants Sabo to read the letter when he gets home, which means it was meant as an apology for how awful the day would've turned out for him if it had gone according to Stelly's plan, though it still turned out awful for Sabo, just not in the way Stelly intended

And in chapter 27... this moment. When I first saw it I thought Stelly was asking cus he was Afraid, but personally I think this was him hoping Luffy would help Sabo wreck things OR he DIDN'T want him to be there bc he was worried he would help calm Sabo and Stop The Carnage (which he did in fact do at the end. kinda. lmao)

And then again in chapter 28 Stelly says THIS. He might've said this with innocent intentions BUT knowing he was purposefully trying to make Sabo's day Awful it's possible he was just trying to add on to that (especially considering his reaction when Sabo DOESN'T maul him) Idk, this one's up in the air but STILL. EVERYTHING HE SAYS IS SUS NOW. anyways moving on

Next is chapter 39, Manny Does His Thing and psychoanalyzes Ace, thus pissing him off a few moments later. Could this have been innocent on his part, especially considering his embarrassment when Ace shuts him down? Could be, could be... BUT THAT SMIRK.... THAT DAMN SMIRK......... I am CONVINCED this was intentional on some part because if it wasn't, well. Manny needs to learn what boundaries are lmao (i could also just be salty over BJG being a little TRAITOR and dragging his name through the mud but shhhh)

And then here!!! Right here in chapter 42!!!!! The panel that made everyone start to wonder what could've possibly been in the letter that would've made Sabo so mad!!!!!!!! This is one of the more obvious ones but I spent like five hours on this so compiled this for a reason HAHA

Chapter 43! Manny has drawn his Iconic Capricorn!! He acts cagey and hesitant, but I'm onto him [insert suspicious squinting emoji here] I half feel like I'm gaslighting myself here but then I remember That God Damn Smirk Manny makes a few chapters later, and I KNOW he was in on it from the beginning. Why was he riling up Ace??? To make it harder to keep Sabo in check, but JOKES ON MANNY bc Ace has a REMARKABLE level of self control and a WHOLE LOTTA LOVE FOR HIS BROTHERS!!!!!!!! Manny underestimated Ace I fear (or I'm just reading too far into it LOL)

And then, of course, chapter 55, we get This Scene, the evidence that Manny is most DEFINITELY IN ON IT!!!!!!! Sally knows what's coming up, and is giving Manny a heads up. Why? Yet to be seen. Maybe Manny had a hand in how it all went down, but she whispered to him FOR A REASON. And it was about the later scene, where They corner Sabo at dinner!!!!! Ace has a right to be sus, they're tryna make Sabo's day worse!!!!!!!! And they did!!! The fuckers

Next chapter, chapter 56, we see Sally nervous about approaching Sabo with the letter. For good reason! She doesn't give it to him, actually she does something aguably worse but!!! Now we know why she was SO nervous lmao

Lotta hints in a row here. Chapter 57, Sally hides the letter (or at least the name on it) to ask A Super Invasive Question Of Someone She Literally Just Met!!! Girl. I honestly can't tell if Sally was against upsetting Sabo from the start (especially considering this entire chapter) and trying to avoid upsetting him or was just Nervous in general, but either way. She could've said ANYTHING instead of going right for the goddamn THROAT like GEEZ

And chapter 58... That smirk.... that DAMNED smirk.......... he was in on it. There's no way he wasn't. That is an EVIL little smirk he was ABSOLUTELY trying to make things worse, or at least he was looking forward to the chaos. I can just imagine him in the background eating popcorn like "fight fight FIGHT FIGHT FI- oh man he's walking away :( damn"

I really don't think Sally wanted to upset Sabo considering this panel in chapter 59, at least not actually coming face to face with him. Her "this is too far" comment tells me that Stelly hired Jalmack ON PURPOSE (and also that she had NO IDEA. backed up by her initial reaction to learning who the priest was) Like, good grief ANYONE would recognize that as too far, except for Stelly apparently. Rereading I am SHOCKED I didn't put together what was going on considering this one, but it's such a blink and you'll miss it moment because oF WHAT HAPPENS IN THE SAME CHAPTER

That face she makes!!! We all knew she did it on purpose but that face she makes really drives the whole thing home like WOW...... Grim determination with a hint of remorse.. harsh.

Rereading, the panel here in chapter 65 where Stelly and Sally are leaning on each other lowkey reads as them being like "Omg look at him go he's finally going apeshit!! Our hard work has payed off honey :D" but I also know this was likely them leaning on each other for support considering. everything. yeah. But Stelly at least was at LEAST a little relieved Sabo was finally losing it. Sally likely needed the hug. But yeah no this was DEF another hint (also Stelly when did you get here.... we didn't see him sit down I'm just now realizing, but to be fair we were more focused on Sabo than Stelly so it makes sense we didn't see him lol)

Breaking the mold a bit w the format of this post by adding two panels at once here but I feel it's needed to drive the point across. This right here, in chapter 66, was ABSOLUTELY Stelly realizing he went too far. And it was ONLY because he got sent into a flashback too. THIS was Stelly realizing what exactly he was doing to Sabo, because his plan ended up backfiring and hurt him instead of just Sabo. I would LOVE to see what exactly Stelly's reaction was when Sabo ran out. The mix of emotions he was probably feeling here is DELICIOUS to imagine. When I initially saw this I thought he was getting angry on Sabo's behalf, and maybe he was a little but it was mostly him realizing how Badly he fucked up, and also the emotions that come with getting trigged like that. An entire bag worth of emotions and I am so HDAWJDKAJDAHK that I went back after the latest chapter to find moments like this because WOW

This panel here in chapter 67 is a bit of a smaller moment, and I realize this was mostly a reaction to an Angry Man Storming Up To Them, but their combined flinch and Stelly's expression was NOT just because of what just happened. Sally was ABSOLUTELY feeling guiltly and so was Stelly, who didn't appear all that shocked Sabo flipped a table. It feels more like he was startled he went for the table they were sitting at, or like he was startled out of the flashback. But this was def part of it. Or maybe I'm just adding this bc this was the ONE thing Sabo wrecked and I'm proud of him for it LMAO

And then, in one of the recent ones, chapter 82, Sabo is expecting Stelly to snitch on him like Stelly always has and he DOESN'T. And now we know why!! Because THIS was what Stelly wanted!!!! Sabo's finally about to wreck something and Stelly's here for it!!!!!! Even though he's very much still afraid of Sabo as seen in the next panel

Stelly was absolutely returning these because he felt guilty. I thought he'd just felt bad in general, but no, it was guilt. He orchestrated this entire night to make it as Horrible As Possible for Sabo and the ONLY reason he feels bad about it is because IT HURT STELLY TOO. I mean yeah I think his regret is genuine, but he hasn't even APOLOGIZED YET. If he really wants to have Sabo at his REAL WEDDING, because he WANTS TO MAKE AMENDS, he NEEDS to apologize and follow through. THIS ^ IS NOT AN ACTUAL APOLOGY. Fuckin. Little bastard man I love how complicated he is so MUCCHHHHHH but also Stelly. My Man. APOLOGIZE. Urgh I love how you can still see his canon characteristics shine through with this reveal but I also HATE ITTT because WOW. HE'S AN ASSHOLE.

And here's a bonus of Stelly trying to run before Sabo can read the letter and failing LMAO

Anyways yeah that's all I got I'm going to bed now it is. way too late and I am NOT tagging this whatsoever and I apologize for any spelling errors the screen is blurring around the edges hwadhkadja

This is my small love letter to WITTB Whery bc I adore how you wrote everything, from the characters to the pacing to how you draw the faces and convey emotions and just dhwajwjkdak yeah. yeah. I'm not even hyperfixated on One Piece anymore (still keeping up w it tho) but this series STILL holds a special place in my heart and I love it to bits!!! Thank you so much for making this and I personally cannot WAIT to see Sabo's full reaction to Stelly's manipulative little scheme HAHAHAAA okay i'm crashing now goodnight

[heretohavenone]

Okay. I've been pondering Jack Slash for a bit. Slimy basted he is, and Number Man, the weirdo HE is. I've come to a couple conclusions after reading through Worm and most of Ward (working on it you'll all be getting my dog gruel opinions on it after) and some of Jack's Backstory via Wildbow posts. First I'll talk about Jack, since he needs more piecing together, for me at least.

Jack Slash is essentially a grifter/shitty salesman when he's speaking 99% of the time. Hes trying, almost without even putting up an act to get you to believe there is some philosophical point he's reaching towards, or some reason why what he's doing means Anything greater than just plain old being a dick. He'll put on different hats to tell you Why he's killing, but in the end, the only thing he wants is to make the world worse and to cause conflict. And that's it. 100%, honestly it. He'd probably kick a puppy if he thought that'd actually help make more people do Worse things, and get him into more conflict. For almost his entire interlude he doesn't really think of himself in terms of what he gets in goals, he simply observes others and thinks of how to best pressure them to continue making things worse while under his control. I think its pretty evident from how much he throws himself into chaotic situations and tries to make things so complicated he can't keep up that Control isnt really what hes most into.

Let's now put this into the context of his past, and more importanty, what Shards want. His past is pretty interesting: locked in a bunker by abusive parents, and told the world had gone to war. They told him a story about how bad everything had gotten, kept him in there for a Long Long time, and he triggered when he left the bunker and he realized it was a lie. Specifically, the thing that broke him wasn't the fact that his parents lied to him. It was that the world was Sane, and Safe, and Not at war. Something he'd grown used to, and absorbed into himself while in that bunker. Essentially, he torn apart by the fact everything was Okay when he was convinced utterly that it had all gone to shit, and people were in senseless conflict like he thought. His worldview got flipped, everything felt wrong, and he triggered. He only thinks the world makes sense In conflict, he had the ability to really process a healthy, constructive world severely damaged to him when he was young.

Jack's desire for conflict make a little more sense with that, but his shard Loving his ass makes a hundred times more sense. He's literally trying to cause humanity to act divided, just like the Shards want, and to create conflict testing. No wonder it likes him so much, that's about as ideal a host as any shard could net, ever. Its like a weapon tester finding a group of suicidal combat junkies. Like. Exceptionally lucky. So Jack is rewarded for his instincts by things Working for him, and gets in a loop of conflicts that are their own reward by making the world as horrible as he thought it was, and making him Comfortable. It's his natural environment. Anything actual push to be constructive and grow attached probably feels alien to him, or just gets contextualized as a tool to create conflict, because he no longer really would know how to do anything but be a grifting jackass hurting people. Even his games are shows of this, every rule meant to be broken and unfair, because you're supposed to stop thinking about them as Rules and more like tools to fuck eachother over. The game Is cheating the game. The point isnt anything he says, it's trying to Kill him.

This is what makes his relationship to Number Man maybe the top five ????? Things when I first read it. He liked the person who's entire sociopathic, utilitarian goals were: Helping The World and Making Order. Seemed contradictory, but Jack did like him as a person, not necessarily his philosophy. Still. They're people who think back on each other fondly, despite what they've become. While Jack doesn't know Where Number Man went, he's not being hunted or hurt or even being pitied for not following conflict like Jack.

They seem to be like Wildbow's fucked up little views on systems and those who take them down rather than working on them, which I disagree with, but they're still fascinating. As much as Number Man is a monster like Jack, who would do everything Jack does if given reason to by finding it the best way to improve people's lives, Number Man is mature by trying to be constructive with his views on what is and is not important, while Jack is purely deconstructive of everything. Their similarity though is how they both seek out their version of thing purely for their own satisfaction, and that's the reason they both seem to admire eachother. Theyre both entirely selfish people.

They're also, hilariously, both killed by people who are both out-doing them in their field. The only Parahuman who hurt Jack Slash was Gray Boy, someone who didn't care about anything but his own selfish ideas of fun who found Jack 'boring', and a disappointment, and that Might have actually thrown Jack off enough it let Gray Boy hit him with a time loop. Number Man got factored in as an uncared for number in Contessa's plan to defeat Teacher. I'm very curious if this one of Worm's few narrative punishments for both's wrong deeds, or just coincidence. Whichever, it's pretty interesting to look at these two freaks' dichotomy in terms of the story, and what Caulron does vs what those who fight against systems in the story do.

But, I like Jack Slash tbh. Cartoonishly evil as he is, he wasn't really didnt do anything else than what he sent himself out to do, and he CLEARLY enjoyed himself while doing it. And Number Man took some time to grow on me, but I also enjoy how he's kind of the opposite in how he shows himself to be very simply then pulls some marble slingshot bullshit to lobotomize someone a mile away.... OKAY I'm still a lil shocked by that.

[todayitwillrainblood]

★ pocket-sized cloud,

a/n: a thanks to @yeon103 ! i was stuck on a name for this, and you really saved me T-T (also, that last line's kind for you :p)

☆ masterlist!

⟲ synopsis;

[ this is from the chibi series! click here to know more! :3 ] oh, no! somehow, your boyfriend has turned into a toddler (chibi :3)! worry not, he still has his personality...kind of?

★ "you met me at the perfect time

you want me, i want you, baby." ☆

— "SIEUN? WHAT HAPPENED to you?!"

[name] was panicking, disgustingly so. he had left his boyfriend alone for just a few minutes to grab milk while sieun shopped near the snack aisle.

imagine his shock when he comes back to see sieun drowning in his clothes, completely teary-eyed and inside their shopping cart.

"oh, sieun-a," he spoke gently, picking up sieun and holding him close.

he wanted to know how this happened, but he also knew that sieun was in no position to tell him, or maybe he didn't even know?

"ah..." [name] looked around with frantic eyes, he wasn't sure where to begin, and was close to hyperventilating. i mean, he's never had a child before!

in his panic, he unfortunately ignored the slight tugs on his sleeve and only looked down when he felt a little bite to the side of his wrist.

"agh!" [name] immediately looked down, scared that something had happened to sieun, well, something other than the fact that he's now seven times his usual size.

but all he was met with was a pouting-and-cheeks-puffy sieun, he was no longer on the verge of crying, just mildly annoyed.

"i'm...cold," he forced out, causing [name] to perk up immediately.

"uh, right!"

with sieun still in his arms, hidden away, [name] dragged the cart to the other side of the store. the clothes there were cheap, but enough for now.

"what about this? hm... hm...no, not this," sometimes, [name] was responsible, very much like the adult he was not old enough to be. but all the time, he was all about fusing and making sure sieun didn't look like he was just dragged through a mud pit, even when he was the size of a toddler...and partially behaving like one.

"ah-ha!" this was it, he looked like the perfect, obedient, most adorable—yeah, you get it.

he was looking like a commercial kid, soft clothes (an honest steal in that run-down store), all he needed was a lollipop in his mouth, preferably a huge one, and fruit jam smeared purposely around his mouth. a charm, really.

[name] folded the clothes sieun was previously wearing, and stuffed them inside a plastic bag he grabbed off the side.

it was pretty awkward during ring-up, trying and failing to explain to the cashier why sieun was dressed in new clothes, with his old ones nowhere in sight. she looked at him very suspiciously, definitely judging him for crimes he didn't commit, so he let out an exaggerated huff and gave up.

at home, sieun could barely sit around. every time [name] sat down after another one of those sessions chasing sieun around the house, he would have to get up and do it again.

it was as if all the energy sieun was not using when he was normal was coming out now. all the energy he suppressed by coping up in a room and slaving away the hours studying was coming out now, by him being a cute menace.

"you have to eat," [name] had sieun held up, his legs far from the ground and frailing weakly.

"no!" he turned his head to the side, pouting, his nose high up and his eyes shut.

how stubborn. seems his poor diet never changed.

"with how much you're running around, you'll collapse if you don't eat." [name] tried to stay stable, yet still gentle with his voice.

sieun looked at him fiercely, his brows furrowed, he looked as if he would start bawling to emotionally manipulate him.

awful of him to think so, but can you blame him? he doesn't know whether to swoon over with how cute he looks, or scold him for how he is behaving.

...

okay, i think we all know that he would never raise his voice at such a cutie and would definitely rather squeal his ears off.

not sure how he ended up like this, but he isn't complaining. a tired sieun clinging to [name]'s back while he cooked, watching him with droopy eyes, with his head resting on [name]'s shoulder.

he let out a mini yawn, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists, "hungry..."

"i know, i know," [name] soothed him, gently lowering him on the couch and handing him a bottle of banana milk, "it won't be long."

sieun is now a child; so instead of drinking the milk, he used the warm bottle as a plushie and fell asleep in under a minute.

"hm."

well, [name] didn't know what to think, confusion? or adoration? suppose it had to be one. he transferred sieun to the bed, still worried slightly that he went to sleep without eating, and packed away the now-ready food.

he tried removing the bottle from sieun's grasp, but the whines of distress he let out stopped him; he just hoped it wouldn't spill during the night.

all the skepticism and puzzlement he felt throughout the day positively washed away when he saw sieun's content and sleeping form. just watching him be a kid, something [name]'s sure he began to miss out on, was enough for him to be satisfied.

maybe, if he's still this size tomorrow, they should make a trip to the amusement park.

or do it anyway, yeah. sieun deserves a break, you know?

[name]'s pocket-sized cloud.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience S2:10:~Kyoya's big choice!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: The ouran sports festival is underway, but you have bigger problems to think about. ➼ what to expect; "I...I like us...and what we have, but I...I think maybe we need to think about how much of our situation is actually...about our relationship.." ➼ warnings: angst ➼S2:09 / S2:11

'Your arrangement was effectively null the moment that both of your fathers were dethroned, there is no financial or company reason for your marriage to hold, that being said I would have thought that you would have transferred out of Japan over the summer'

The words had been rattling around in your head for days. You couldn't focus on anything, all you had been doing is wandering back and forth between the two teams meeting room, not fully taking in a word spoken, not fully doing anything.

Although even through your absent mind you ultimately noticed that Tamaki is more chipper than you would have expected as you step into his team's meeting room, jumping around the the Hikaru and Haruhi excitedly "Father's super-excited! Enter as many events as you like!"

"Enough! You're giddier than usual."

"Oh... did you make up with Kyoya?" You question, placing down a tea tray, the next thing you know Tamaki has thrown himself onto the floor in a pool of tears "uh-oh"

"Huh? What? He's been ignoring you in class?" Hikaru crouches over him, translating Tamaki's sob filled mumbling. "So you've been putting on a brave front to hide your hurt feelings..."

You sigh, taking a sip of water "Even if the boss is at fault, doesn't it seem like Kyoya is going a little overboard? Tamaki's silly complacency is nothing new" Hikaru mutters "Using Kyoya as a pretext to hold the festival was pathetic, but... you meant no harm"

"Y/n?" Haruhi looks up to you for some clarification "I...it is certainly not just over the festival, but even I am not fully sure what the exact trigger was, I am making it a point to stay out of this"

"Well...hopefully it becomes clear soon, if Tamaki and Kyoya fall out completely it doesn't bode well for the host club"

While Haruhi spoke in jest, the comment made you freeze up in the doorway as you exited, it was a good point, the club could get torn apart because of this, one of the very few things keeping you in Japan.

Maybe this was a sign...

but also, it wasn't just about going back to europe, you know that.

It is about leaving Kyoya.

Because there is about the truth in the fact that your engagement is held together with a single fraying thread, and that thread is your relationship.

It is not that you want to seperate, but also if the agreement between your families never existed, being engaged this early into your relationship would be mad. It has to be addressed.

Because there was a life you left behind before ouran, it used to be that what was keeping you in Japan was that you were away from your father, now it is something else entirely

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Kyoya's big choice!

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"There's a huge commotion out there, ootori vs kuze has now become ootori vs suoh" you quietly spoke from the doorway to the now empty meeting room where Kyoya is working, somehow feeling the need for an invitation to enter now it is just the two of you.

"Traffic to the host club's website has suddenly doubled too. Plus, for some reason, the photo book is in print again" you push yourself off the frame "Is it selling well?" he doesn't look up from the laptop.

You sigh "Kyoya don't tell me you picked a fight with this in mind all along?"

"What a rude assumption. That actually angers me. But I saw an opportunity, so I decided to drag out our fight and make a profit"

you pinch the bridge of your nose "Okay usually I would find that attractive but- aren't you being a little cruel? I mean, the others think you're angry because he became second in command to the red team but i know that ain't true, Tamaki's antics isn't new, and in terms of boundaries this is no where near as far as he's been before, so why this?"

"Because he's sticking his nose into my business. I don't care what kuze thinks of me, but it's quite annoying being dragged into a competition that is of no benefit to me. He ought to leave things between kuze and myself. I believe that as long as the people we care about understand us, the other stuff doesn't matter, don't you agree?"

You pause at an arms distance away from him "I mean, of course I do, just look at us. But does Tamaki not fall under that group of people?" Kyoya looks away. "Did you come for something?"

You sit opposite him, debating whether or not you should even say anything with the timing "My grandmother visited me last night... and she brought something up-"

"Ah yes, the papers arrived at the house this morning"

You freeze, staring back at him with wide eyes, you knew that she was adamant that you move home and break off the engagement but you didn't think she would go as far as to send over the papers this soon "p-papers?"

"Yes, the emancipation papers, i don't know why they came here instead of to the apartment but if you wanted them I have them here"

the shock of it all puts you off saying anything, speechlessly accepting the papers off him "e-emancipation?"

He raises a brow at your reaction, going back to his laptop "Why do you look so surprised?"

"Because I am- I didn't even- god that woman" you stand, taking out your phone "Wait, if you didn't know what were you going to say?"

"Not the point" You wave him off, leaving the room as you press to call her.

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'Here begins Ouran high school's first sports festival!'

"Oh wow..."

"Ouran has an amazing arena" somehow you end up entering the arena with Ranka, Misuzu and Mei, showing up to support Haruhi "Are you sure we can go in? A high-society sports festival makes me nervous" Misuzu looks on the arena concerned

"Then leave! We didn't invite you in the first place" Mei turns to her "That's mean mei! I even got up early to make your bento!"

"Enough you two" Ranka rolls her eyes. "Don't worry about getting in, you'll be fine" You spoke entering the arena.

'The first event is the ladies' bread-tasting contest! A classic italian table setting in the center of the field. This is a gift to the young ladies from the chairman on the occasion of the sports festival!'

"Huh?" You raise a brow, watching on as the ouran girls proceed to start bread tasting.

"Oh hey haruhi" You spot her and Hikaru nearby at the bottom of the seating area. "Hey y/n" before you can say anything else Tamaki runs over "Haruhi! Why didn't you enter the bread-tasting contest?!"

Haruhi sighs, rolling her eyes "I can't tell the makes of different types of croissants"

"But you've got to try it!" He pleads. "Think about it tamaki it's a girls-only event it would be suspicious"

"B-but I snuck a giant tuna into the red teams bread for haruhi" as if on cue you look over to find some of the girls retorting in disgust at the bread, heaving a little.

'The red team forfeits! The white team wins!'

Tamaki descends into squabbling with kuze over 'poisoning' his own team.

'Next up is the men's 100-meter dash! The first runners at the starting line'

"What's all the commotion?" one of the red team asks, stood at the start line "It looks like our second in command caused the problem"

"What?"

'The distracted red team is off to a slow start! The white team wins!'

You slowly step away from Tamaki who appears to break slightly, accidentally backing into Kaoru on the white team "Captain the enemy has self destructed"

"They're silly huh?" Honey looks over to the opposing team. Kyoya smirks "It's still too early to celebrate, though the side that breaks concentration first will lose, we'll keep scoring points at the current rate"

You bite your tongue, stepping away once more, although as the white team disperses Kyoya lightly grasps your wrists "You don't seem to really be enjoying this" He mutters.

"hm?"

"You usually live for a playful rivalry" You gently slip your hand from his grip "But it isn't playful. Is it?"

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"Suoh!" Kuze storms over to Tamaki "What's the meaning of this?"

"Kuze! I'm so happy you recovered!"

"What is there to be happy about? The white team is in the lead! How did you manage to fall so behind? It was Ootori wasn't it? He must have used one of his dirty tricks" Tamaki's face falls "You couldn't be more wrong Kuze, the red team is responsible for its own failures. The white team is just doing its best so please-"

"What is it?" Kuze stutters out

"If they honor us by competing valiantly like true gentlemen to the very end I humbly request that you refrain from trying to pick fights with Kyoya in the future"

"F-fine"

'The white team wins the men's hurdle race! the white team is strong! Did the red team cave under pressure? Many seem to have been shaken up at the starting line!' echoes across the arena.

"Oh it's the chairman" You mutter spotting Tamaki's father from across the bleachers, wandering over to where Kyoya and Kaoru sat "I though it was only Haruhi's family, but a lot of the parents are here"

"Well my parents are both at work...how about your family Kyoya?" Kaoru asks.

"they would never come, if my parents were attending I would have used a different strategy" even though the two of you knew there was an underlying context to the conversation it did intrigue you "Such as?"

"I would have made it much more apparent that the white team's success was due to my involvement then let Tamaki take the spotlight in the end."

"I see..." this was not the first time that Kyoya had taken that strategy, he did exactly that during the race for the central salon. But you wondered whether or not that the choice to let Tamaki take the spotlight was for appearances or perhaps due to a change of heart.

'The score now is 63 points for the red team, 183 for the white team. The white team leads by an amazing 120 points!'

"Well I think the competition has already been won" you murmur.

"Yes, this has been unexpectedly easy" Kyoya mutters "I thought it would be a closer contest, I told him a sports festival was a silly idea..."

You can't help but watch on in unrecognition, while you and Kyoya were both morally questionable when it came to your calculated scheming it has always been in pure benefit, never to someone elses specific downfall, or at least not anyone who didn't deserve it. You are unsure whether or not you like the look of it on Kyoya.

"Mr. Ootori our unexpectedly regained their spirits"

"Ootori! I thought you said they would use up their energy at the cheering contest and self-destruct"

"Not to worry, they self-destructed early on, so we now have a bigger lead than expected, besides we have our white team elite- honey- participating in the obstacle course"

'A rare first place for red team!'

you turn to him "You were saying?"

"It's fine, one loss won't-"

'The red tea wins the second race!'

'And its the red team again! The white team was favored in this even, but one man has led the tidal-wave comeback the red team leader Takeshi Kuze!'

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'The red teams makes an amazing comeback! The white team leads now by only 12 points, with one event remaining. Thirty points will be awarded to the winner of the relay race. All eyes are on the anchor, the position that both team leaders will race. The team that wins this relay race will win the sports festival!'

"S-suoh" Kuze stutters out breathlessly, exhausted after the previous event "Kuze? Are you alright? There's just the relay left..." Tamaki watches on in concern, Kuze stumbles over to him "I entrust the relay to you. I'll be watching your version of a valiant competition among gentlemen from here"

You take notice of the conversation, nudging Kaoru who also takes notice "Hey, it looks like the red team anchor changed to the boss, he's slower than Kuze, but our teams are neck and neck, hey kyoya!" He grabs Kyoya's attention.

"Why don't you withdraw from the race?"

"Huh?"

"Fortunately, the chairman is watching, if you act like you planned on giving the glory to the boss in the first place, won't it work to your benefit?"

"That won't fool the chairman, besides, this isn't about benefit. This was about pride all along" Kyoya storms off to the track "Oh my god..." Kaoru mutters.

"What is it?" You turn to him

"I understand now, the boss wanted Kyoya to genuinely compete without thinking about how it would benefit him" You smile "Of course it's been about that, I thought that was clear, Tamaki's goals are rarely ever convoluted... although I must admit at first that I thought that he was just getting Kyoya to compete to help Kuze's self esteem"

Tamaki jogs over to the track where Kyoya is already stood "Good luck on our race! You must be disappointed it's not against Kuze, but-"

"You're the only one who'll be disappointed, I never wanted to compete in the first place. You always get by, but don't forget, there are those who find your pushy, nosy tactics bothersome"

"Bothersome? Oh, are you referring to how the white team unknowingly got pulled into your devious, blackhearted schemes? Oh! If I win I get a free year-round use of Kyoya's kotatsu passport! Don't forget now!"

"And if I win, next win you'll wear only a fundoshi to greet customers but you'll keep your european manners"

"If i win, I get the window seat on next months field trip"

"If I win you have to sit in economy class alone and you have to squat"

"How come my punishments are harsher?! and you keep adding bonuses" tamaki cries "It's only fair considering all the trouble you've caused me"

"You were having fun too! You snob! You're never being honest"

"Shut up! Do you realise how much I have to work behind the scenes to rectify your selfish behaviour? Not just me but y/n? You push her too much, appearing unannounced, forcing her to face her anxiety, you are such a selfish idiot!"

Your face falls as you watch on from the bleachers "Kyoya is fighting like a little kid" Hikaru notes "I never knew kyoya could act like that" Neither did you, but now your were starting to realise why.

'and now for the final event, the first runner is off! The red team takes an early lead, will the red team's counterattack carry them through?!'

"Tamaki said, that at any public event, kyoya feels obligated to make the suoh family look good" Haruhi watches on next to you "It's to his benefit to let Tamaki win the crown."

"It's be good to have an event where Kyoya doesn't have to worry about his family's position" Hikaru adds, turning to you "Don't you want to see Kyoya competing passionately for just himself"

You laugh "All he does is compete for himself, today I must admit is a strange occasion but Kyoya lives for stuff like this, he doesn't worry about his family's position, he is determined for his own, most often despite his family"

"What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it, that is a very long story that we might tell one day" Hikaru squints back at you "What on earth do you two get up to outside of school?"

You just hum dismissively.

'oh no! The fourth red team runner dropped the baton during handoff! The white team is catching up, and now, the anchors grab the batons!'

Your eyes glue to Kyoya, perhaps, just maybe, you had understood all this wrong this entire time. Maybe you were too distracted by everything else that you couldn't take a moment to actually think about it.

'Kyoya Ootori is the winner! The white team wins!'

Tamaki collapses onto his knees dramatically "Wahh! I lost! It hurts! But it was a lot of fun! Wasn't it fun Kyoya? Isn't it nice having a youthful battle once in a while, without regard to how it could benefit you?"

Kyoya pauses, watching on in shock as Tamaki runs over to the rest of the host club, leaving the two of you staring back at eachother from opposite sides of the track.

You take the first move, slowly walking over to his and ressing a small kiss to his cheek "What was that for?" You shrug "tradition is it not? For winners of races to recieve a kiss"

"I'm sweaty" you hand him a towel "A bit late for that now"

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You have been on edge ever since setting foot outside of the arena, knowing that you had been putting off the dreaded conversation for long enough, that the moment that you two got back to the apartment there was really no excuse anymore.

However it turns out that Kyoya had similar plans, placing the papers from the previous day on the counter "what have I missed in this past week?"

you sigh " We need to talk" he raises a brow at your sudden seriousness, leaning back on the sofa "Okay, about?"

"My grandmother, the emancipation papers was only one of her requests"

"I see"

"I can handle her, but she raised a...point to me" you sit opposite him "A point?"

You sigh "Are we still engaged?" you are met with silence, Kyoya seemingly shutting down a little at the question "What?"

"I am here because of an agreement held together by our fathers, an agreement that has fallen apart thanks to us. There is no longer a reason for us to be engaged or for you to fund my living... or even, for me to be in Japan. Or at least no reason beyond choice"

Kyoya tilts his chin up, eyes glaze over as he thinks over your words "So what are you trying to say?"

"I'm not trying to say anything but there is that question, and I think there is a reason why we both have been putting off this conversation, because it has been simpler for us to pretend that we still have to observe the agreement but we don't... so where do we stand?"

Kyoya takes off his glasses, running a hand over his face "I...I don't know..."

"I...I like us...and what we have, but I...I think maybe we need to think about how much of our situation is actually...about our relationship...like I think we can both be honest in the fact that if we had not been engaged before we started to see eachother we probably not be engaged right now"

Kyoya sits up straight "I don't know... I just, need to think"

Next time on patience....'The wizard of Ouran!'

'Y/n finds herself in another strange land and she and Kyoya have a big decision to make Find out next time on patience!'

We'll see you then!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden @nanaloverz @hyuninslutbbgirl @rebel-author-chick @voyager1fan @bubbabobabubbles @haowonbins @justtryingtosurvive02 @darlingxym @funtimefreddynaofficial @lunarthehokage @kiki-kuku @jaeger-did-nothing-wrong

[trina-makes-an-entrance]

My favorite mileven moments in season one is when they are about to kiss and Mike is just standing there like🧍. It's just personally so romantic how he's expressionless and immobile and Eleven looks like she doesn't know what the fuck she's doing 🥰🥰🥰

My other favorite Mileven moment is when Mike kisses El super quickly as if he was trying to rip off a band aid and doesn't even ask for consent of any sort 😍😍😍

They are truly ment for eachother, what do you mean Mike is gay?? He was in love with El since day one! He fell in love with her because he could use her as a weapon to save Will!!! They love each other?? Shut up they are so going to be endgame 😡😡. Sometimes the best couples have literally cero chemistry, okay??

For God sake it would not make sense at all for Eleven to end up single in season five, not because her and Mike's love at first sight, but because of the fact that El literally needs Mike! He would not be a complete person if he wasn't her boyfriend! She obviously needs him and the mere thought of here being single is trash. She doesn't need to be her own person without Mike what the hell are you talking about???

[honeyinthelion]

I don't think we were ever meant to scrutinize the logistics of the vaccine. The point of the story was always that Joel did not do the right thing. If the Fireflies were murderers and Joel was right, then there is no real difference between Joel saving Ellie from the fireflies and Joel protecting Ellie from hunters in Pittsburgh.

The ending would mean nothing and just be more of the same. There would be no proof that Joel actually loved Ellie anymore because the proof was always Joel choosing Ellie over the entire human population.

It is in that sacrifice that we are shown the extent of his devotion to Ellie as her protector, her father. If Joel was right, then it's not really a sacrifice, is it? And if it's not a sacrifice, then what is the point?

If Joel were so right, if it were as cut and dry as "The Fireflies were not going to give you a choice and you're not in any position to make that choice so I'm going to save you," then why is Joel so obviously guilty? Why does he look so sad? Why does he lie to her?

If he was truly concerned about ethics and her ability to give consent to being sacrificed, then he wouldn't really be guilty now would he? He would understand that Ellie wasn't old enough to be able to decide thoughtfully, but that's not what happened.

What's there to feel guilty about if you know you were completely in the right?

So I think all the scrutinizing about the logistics of the vaccine really misses the point of the story. I don't think Naughty Dog intended for us to consider how the vaccine would be realistically distributed.

Interestingly, when the game released, nobody had any issues with Joel being in the wrong. That was kind of the point at the time. That's why people liked the ending so much. Because there was that ambiguity and because Joel made that sacrifice.

Then the sequel came out, and people needed a reason to retroactively justify what Joel did because they didn't like the fact that what he did would have serious consequences. They didn't like Abby, so they needed to explain why Joel didn't deserve his death and why we should just ignore the sequel because people don't like things that make them uncomfortable.

Now everyone just thinks he's right again, and it's frustrating. Joel's sacrifice was his proof of love for Ellie. It was his arc. It was the culmination of their journey. Joel doing the morally correct thing doesn't show that he loves her. Joel doing the wrong thing does.

Joel doesn't have to be right for you to understand him. Joel doesn't have to be right for you to care about him. It is okay for him to be wrong, and love him anyway.

[sskk-manifesto]

Next time we should just skip over ep 3 and do a chapters 84-87 reread

[mcl-mia]

//ah, yes. another day, another route completed. slowly getting closer and closer to that goal of completing every route!!

so. rex. oh boy. i think i have a lot to say about rex. spoilers spoilers spoilers!!!

okay. so. hoooooo boy. where do i begin. this is going to be long.

so, as many people know already, rex's route actually begins in the middle of nox's route - the main difference between them at the beginning, of course, is when nox reveals his identity as nightmare to liz. in this version, liz stays with rex.

rex is unrepentantly horny. years of no pussy will do this to a man, i guess. but christ, dude. chill.

he is CONSTANTLY (or, at the very least, it feels like he is) asking liz if he likes him yet, especially before he and liz actually get together. the fact that rex is canonically a rebound guy is fucking hilarious and i will never let him live that down.

i also find it really funny that he has a gun. like, that's insanely funny. i need to know more about the gun lore. they say they are "magical revolvers", but liiiiiiike. i mean, they are. but come on.

so. rex himself. i'll be honest with you, i'm not a fan. it's the self-righteous douchewads that really don't do it for me, and because they really tried making him a diet akechi without the homosexual tension, i personally didn't vibe with him.

for example:

this is a small part of the larger, dramatic conversation rex has with liz after nox escapes for, like, the 6th time. he then goes on to say that all liz knows is that "he has been manipulating her the whole time. that maybe he just used her to get closer to Nightmare, that maybe it was all an act, and he needed liz to be vulnerable to get the proof he needed." he then proceeds to say that liz is also awful, because she "practically did the exact same thing". preceeding this conversation in the previous chapter is that rex asks liz if she thinks nightmare is evil. this is, of course, a trick question for anyone who played nox's route immediately beforehand. you can say yes or no, and obviously, the "correct" answer is yes. i didn't bother looking at the "yes" option, because i could tell immediately where the convo was going. rex, of course, will disagree if you say no.

he also says a very interesting line, iirc, after the choice dialogue: "people who stray from the path of humanity are evil."

this is, i think, a very telling line about how rex REALLY feels. like, christ dude, do you REALLY need to dehumanize nox like that? does it help you sleep at night, buddy? does it make you feel better? like you're above the rest of us?

like, the way he talks about nox is like he murdered someone. and yes, i am specifically saying "nox" and not "nightmare" here because rex has already figured out that nox is nightmare - he just didn't have proof at the time. but seriously, he just steals things? like yeah, stealing bad, we know, but you don't need to make it sound like he killed your entire family.

seriously, dude. what does he think about the orphan that steals a loaf of bread because they can't afford to eat? the person who kills her abusive partner in self-defense, because they were going to be killed otherwise? the family who has to ""illegally"" immigrate to a new country because they have been displaced or fear for their lives in their home country? what do you think of YOURSELF, rex? you have an illegal magical tool, but because the ministry says it's okay, you're allowed to pull it on unarmed citizens*? fucking hell, man. i want to put him in his place. they really could have done something interesting with his character there, but they didn't.

*side note, i am not talking about nox here. nox is very much armed with his rod. he DOES, however, pull his revolver on an unarmed criminal (who is not stated to have any magical abilities, mind you) in a flashback and it's heavily implied that the item he showed to the noble in queensblade to "prove" he's from the ministry is his revolver as well.

i don't think i really like his backstory, either? the reason why he's like this is because he had a mentor die while on the job. in the flashback, the person he is pursuing for a murder case, rex pulls his gun on. the person starts crying and says they are a victim of abuse and killed their abuser on accident, so rex lowers his gun. the person then pushed rex down, and his partner eventually gets shot with his own gun as a result (can i say that this is weird?? if this dude was so ready to kill them, they probably would have killed rex, too. rex's kindness is the reason he is alive, yet he doesn't realize that). so, rex, who clearly didn't go to therapy, decided that it was all his fault and that he needs to stop being kind. he also says that he "realized" that the person was lying to him, and that THEY were the one doing the abusing. i think that if they really wanted me to believe that, they should have been more careful with their word choice. their choice of saying rex "realized it" begs the question: did rex actually discover that during the investigation, or was this a "deduction" he made because this person also killed his partner? this person was never caught, after all.

i also found it really funny because in the same flashback, he says that he joing the intelligence department because it was his way to "rebel". his mom is a pianist and his father is a police officer in maiya, and they both wanted him to follow in their footsteps. like, your idea of rebelling is to get a job that your parents would be proud of, regardless? lol. lmao even. like i get it, but lol.

speaking of his "super secret detective" job, raise ur hand if you were surprised. because i sure wasn't. it was really obvious that he wasn't just a "reference department worker". like wtf even is that. just call him an archivist.

ok, enough side tracking. you know what comes out this big dramatic conversation? res just explains himself and his backstory. he doesn't even APOLOGIZE to liz for being so cold to her and implying that he might have been manipulating her. like, dude?! sure, yes, you could make the argument that liz was "manipulating" rex because she knew nox was nightmare, but tbh considering how nox was kind of forcing her to keep quiet about it all really makes a difference here.

you know what was an EXCELLENT surprise though? PAPA RANDOLPH!!!!!!!!!!

i was smiling the entire time he was here. i'm very glad that we finally got to see what he was up to after THREE!!!!!! seasons. thank god they didn't forget about him. i have my doubts that we'll see him again after this, but it was nice to see him all the same. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

schuyler being sad, too.... .. ..... man. that got to me a bit.

if you haven't noticed, i haven't actually talked about the plot much. this is because almost the entire plot revolves around rex's character and him trying to catch nox. that's about it. there are some cool story beats, and it barely touched on gray's pranks. it didn't really do much else.

some things i liked were the running gag of some of the other prefects barging into the office and yelling "EMERGENCY!!!" and interrupting liz and rex. i also liked that in the happy end, they did a call back to rex and nox swordfighting (👀) like they did in the night class/towards the beginning of the route. legit, the sword fight had me mentally fist pumping the air. i love it when wizards just settle things with nonmagical objects. fucking incredible.

i think what maybe just bugs me the most is the lack of my other boys. like, sure, they were THERE, but not nearly as much as i would have liked. 90% of them being there was for comedic relief, and that is a very sad use of them.

nox is obviously quite present, and i actually liked him a little more in rex's route. he got just the right amount of mean sometimes, and it was great. liz has some really interesting conversations with him, and the fact that nox actively tells liz that she doesn't have to "choose" him? yeah, that's golden. it's a really refreshing thing to have someone in a love triangle to essentially say "i won't force you to choose me". you're a winner in my book, nox.

something that i do find interesting is how they keep mentioning that nox and rex "know each other best because they are rivals". which! is a cool concept! i just fucking wish they would have actually shown that instead of just saying it's true! :))))))

i'll never get tired of the boys being kind to liz. really and truly.

shit like this just gets to me, man.

also:

MISCHA, I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS UGLY BITCH WOULD EVEN BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS YOU. GET HER OUT OF THERE!!!!!!!!!!

i really, really wish i had better things to say about rex's route, but it's rembrandt all over again. for me, rex was the worst part of his own route. he's just not for me. if you like these kinds of guys, i'm sure you'll love him.

gray's route seems to pick up immediately after rex's happy ending. let's see how that plays out.

[magicalpuppet]

"Are you new here? I’m new too." What if the one she met wasn't Frank at all?

If somebody is interested in the madness “theory”, I'll put it right under here.

Keep in mind before continuing: this is straight up just a theory/headcanon, I'm gonna share it without any other purpose than having fun theorizing. I put some points you can follow, I am sorry this is gonna be long and crazy.

So, I believe the puppet Julie met could be...Wally.

This whole madness was caused by Julie's story in the video "regard forgetfulness silence"...

The memory The way Julie is speaking seems off to me, as well as the way she recounts her first meeting with Frank.

She "think" that's how she met him, isn't it strange she can't recall precisely how she met the dearest puppet to her?

We know Julie have difficulties with her memory, but she seems to remember stuff that happened when hanging out with Frank, why the most important moment is so unclear to her?

This could mean that she can't remember the interaction correctly and that her memories are being heavily corrupted by something or that the whole thing is made up by someone.

The encounter

Even the encounter is iffy, the puppet she met doesn't seems to speak like Frank Does.

"Are you new here? I'm new too. My name is Frank"

This speech pattern sound more similar to Wally to me.

And after that, she says that he made a corny joke and she laughed at it, we know that Frank is not really the one who tells jokes. Heck, he is not even good at telling them.

You could argue about Wally and jokes too, he's not very skilled at telling them after all, but I can imagine two scenarios: -Him speaking normally and not realizing he is saying something funny to her. (this could apply to Frank too)

-His best friend love to tell jokes and we know that Barnaby encourage Wally to chat and tell jokes to the Neighbors, it could be that noticing she was scared he tried to tell a joke to her.

The fruit basket

Okay now I am really looking into stuff, I know, but why would Frank bring a big fruit basket around? Julie says it's because he was going to say hi to her but we know the friendliest neighbor in the whole place is Wally itself. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to be the one going to say hi?

The fruit basket could also just be related to Wally going out into the woods to paint a still life since he is a painter.

“Was he mad?”

She was worried that "Frank" was mad at her when they met.

Strange, because Frank emotions are very easy to read, he's a very expressive puppet. We also know that when he feel a very strong emotion (like being mad) his head spins. Why she would question it? If it was Wally, his emotions are more difficult to read and it could be that she didn't understood his intentions immediately.

Wally itself

The fact she bring up Wally while recalling Frank's meeting is strange too. She says she met Wally the same day, why not meeting the whole neighborhood then? Maybe it was just them at the beginning and it would make sense in that case.

But Wally comes up at the end of the audio asking "Did all that really happen, Julie?" like he is asking her like all of that was made up or straight up incorrect.

Aaand I'm done! I'm not even sure any of this makes sense to anyone else, but it was stuck with me since the update and I wanted to draw it and share it.

Maybe it was Frank, maybe it was really Wally, maybe it never happened in the first place but... Everything sound too strange to be as the story says.

And don't get me wrong with all of this! I love Frank and Julie relationship a lot, I am not going against them in any way. I like to go deep inside the stories I am following and I speculate a lot about stuff! (Also I wanna apologize if my english is not the best, it's not my first language)

[navybrat817]

Just.... Bucky getting on his knees and begging "honey, open your legs please" like he's a man that's been starving for months, him breathing and tasting through the panties because he's that impatient.

I love this so much, nonnie.

Sweet Like Honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky begs to have a taste when he gets home.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, established relationship, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: This feels like Feral Bucky. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat on the couch fifteen minutes ago. You closed your eyes five minutes ago. It amazed you that you hadn't fallen asleep with how tired you were from your long day, but Bucky would be home shortly and you wanted to curl up with him before you dozed off. He’d find it sweet, and so would you.

You should've known he’d have other ideas.

“Hey, Bucky,” you mumbled when you heard his deliberate footsteps. When he didn't answer you cracked an eye open. “Bucky?” you asked, watching him toss his jacket away and flex his hands. He had a familiar look in his blue eyes. Not quite feral, but close.

Oh, he was hungry.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way with his foot and bent down to kiss your lips. Soft, but desperate, so it didn't surprise you when he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Honey, open your legs,” he demanded in a dark, deep voice once he pushed your dress up. One that made you grip the cushions when he rested his hands on your knees. “Please.”

“Well, hello to you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but your smile was affectionate. What had him so wound up? “At least you said please.”

“I did, now please open your legs,” he demanded again, but it wasn't as forceful. You heard a hint of desperation, the same kind you tasted on his lips when he kissed you. “I’m already on my knees.”

“You are,” you agreed and you loved how badly he wanted you. “But why should I open my legs for you? I’m pretty tired.”

His mouth fell open. You never passed up an opportunity for him to pleasure you, and you’d let him eat as much as his heart desired. But you wanted to hear him beg a little for it for no reason at all.

“Because I'm horny and hungry and your pussy is the only thing that’ll satisfy me,” he answered, looking at where your legs were still together. “C’mon. Pussy’s so good. I need it. I crave it. Soft as silk, sweet like honey.”

You moaned. They were good reasons. “Tempting, tempting, but you just ate my pussy yesterday,” you reminded him, which earned you an offended look from the love of your life.

“Yesterday. An entire day ago. Your pussy needs me,” he snarled, his fingers sliding to your thighs and digging in. “Or should I say my pussy?”

“Easy, tiger. We both know it’s yours,” you teased, burying a hand in his hair and making him groan when you tugged on the strands. His words could turn you into molten lava, and you were wet the second he dropped to his knees. “But opening my legs doesn't address the fact that I'm tired. You understand that.”

He smirked when your legs opened an inch. “I’m sorry you're tired, but making you feel good is the perfect way to get you to sleep. I’ll get you off on my tongue and fingers… Make you pass out when I get my cock in you.” He sounded wrecked as your thighs parted more, your core . “And I’ll carry you to bed and wrap you in a warm blanket.”

“And you’ll cuddle with me, too? If you’re demanding that I open up, I demand some cuddles,” you said. He’d cuddle with you even if you didn't demand it.

“Cuddle, snuggle, curl up with you, spoon you, can even keep me cock warm while I hold you,” he rattled off, smirking when you bit your lip. “Just let me eat, please.”

You hummed. It was tempting. And how many people could say a super soldier begged for just a taste of them? To fuck them? “Just how hungry are you and for what reason?”

Bucky licked his lips when you completely opened your legs and showed him your clothed cunt. “Fucking hungry and for no reason at all except your existence,” he growled.

You made a small noise when he dove in and inhaled, your face nearly burning from how hot it felt when he licked and tugged impatiently at the wet fabric with his teeth. “Bucky!”

“Told you. ‘m fucking hungry.” He licked the fabric again with a growl and nudged your clit with his nose. “God, you’re so wet for me. Need it on my tongue. Need it on my cock.”

“Fuck…” you whimpered. He wanted your pussy so badly he couldn't even wait for a proper taste. “Okay, you can eat.” He had begged enough in your eyes.

“Fucking finally.”

You scoffed. “Finally? You just-”

He ripped your underwear off and left you bare, drawing another breathless sound from you at the first touch of his mouth on your damp folds. He brought his hands to your hips and pulled you closer so he could open you up with his tongue, his broad shoulders keeping your legs apart. You nearly lost it when he plunged it deep inside and licked around your walls, his throaty moan making you shudder. Every lick and caress made you feel like you’d melt into the couch. The sensations were overwhelming, especially since your senses went from dull to heightened.

“Beautiful,” he rumbled.

“We both are,” you smiled. He made you feel beautiful, and he sure as fuck looked beautiful between your thighs.

“And I’m so…” His thumb on your clit had you pulling his hair. “Fucking…” You tightened around the finger that slipped inside your tight channel. “Hungry.”

There was no getting between Bucky and his meal. No stopping him once he had a taste, his fingers and mouth tender even as he devoured you. It almost didn't seem fair some days. All you had to do was flash your tits or spread your legs and the ex-assassin was lost to the world. Even after a long day you got to lay back while he pleasured you simply because he wanted you. You reaped all the benefits, came every time.

You’d make sure he came, too, before the night was over.

“You… really are hungry,” you moaned, your back arching when another finger. Bucky wasn't just an enthusiastic lover. He was attentive. He knew what made you tick and how to make you let go. “Fuck! There! Please!”

“Music to my ears, and you really do taste like fucking honey.” He gazed up at you with a smirk on his wet lips as his fingers curled. You tasted yourself on his lips before and it tasted nothing like honey, but who were you to argue when he enjoyed it so much? “Melt for me and I’ll carry you to bed on my cock.”

It didn't take you long to reach your peak of pleasure once his mouth was back on you, your thighs shaking and his name leaving your lips in a cry. He hummed and groaned as he tasted your release like it was the most delicious treat he ever had. You were aware that he called you a good girl as your vision blurred, and he also said he loved you as you rode out your orgasm. He may have even apologized for the “lack of foreplay”.

But as he carried you to bed with a kiss to your forehead and his cock buried inside you as promised, you knew he’d more than make that up to you.

The man needs you, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

I'm still here. Thank you for giving me that chance.

Part seven of The Rain series

Synopsis: Ortho and Idia come to visit the Prefect in the infirmary after the collapse of Ramshackle.

TW: The aftermath of Ramshackle collapsing on The Prefect, Idia cries, Mentions of Ace and Deuce finding out The Prefect was injured after their visits, The Prefect is injured after Ortho's too but he doesn't find out, Mentions of Ortho's death and how Idia reacted, Idia doesn't take the news of your injury well (dw, he gets comfort)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (here), Part 8, Part 9 (coming soon), . . .

Ortho visited next. Somehow, despite him being made of metal and him having no mouth, it looked as though he was frowning.

He approached you slowly as if you were a wounded animal or a fragile piece of cracked glass that could shatter at the slightest gust of air.

"Your vital signs are steady." were the first words that left his speaker.

"Good to know." you reply, giving him a small smile. The bandages on your lower jaw had been reduced to less bulky versions and your mouth was now more visible. It certainly made talking easier and less of a strain on your jaw muscles.

"Big brother called STYX the moment he confirmed what happened." Ortho spoke up again.

"I was curious" you mumble, pausing for a moment to grab your drink. Ortho stopped you. You could tell he heard about your backtracking in the healing process after your visits with Ace and Deuce and how it left you with a ban (courtesy of Crewel) on bending your arms that far as not to reopen your wounds. He lifted the cup himself and helped you drink it.

"Thank you." you softly clear your throat before continuing: "How did you know to call STYX?" You refrain from asking about the fact it was Idia, the guy who would rather bite his own tongue off than answer a call, who made the call and not Ortho.

"Suspiciously frantic movements were detected on the school's security cameras. Big brother was originally going to ignore it, but then he noticed that the movement was the teachers, and they were running directly toward Ramshackle. There were no working cameras that could see to Ramshackle, I was charging, and it was too rainy to send out a drone, so. . ."

"Idia did something with 'questionable legality' again, didn't he?"

"It was for a good cause!" Ortho immediately defends. "He. . .he may or may not have tapped into professor Crewel's phone call with Leona Kighscholar to figure out what was going on, but if he didn't-"

You cut Ortho's rambling off by slightly raising a bandaged hand; "It's okay. I'm thankful he did. I won't tell on him."

Ortho sighs (?) in relief before smiling "Brother is coming to see you tomorrow! It would have been today, but he sent me in first for 'reconnaissance.'"

A laugh bubbles out of your throat, but the moment it leaves your mouth, your wincing in pain. You take in a sharp breath, but that only irritates a stitch in your side.

Ortho flinches and immediately starts scanning you again.

"I'm okay, Ortho." you wince. At his skeptical look, you rephrase "I'll be okay."

Ortho stays for a few more hours, chatting away to you about what has been happening on campus, in your classes, and in Ignihyde.

Before he left, you offered him a hug. He was extremely hesitant. He'd been avoiding sitting on the bed with you or getting too close in fear that his metal body would cause you harm. However, he gives in after a bit of convincing and allows you to wrap him is a gentle hug.

You awaken the next morning with a worse ache than usual in your abdomen. You didn't want to say it at the time as you knew it would tear the poor boy apart, but Ortho had hugged you perhaps a bit more than just a little too tight. You reached down to gently tap the sore spot only to wince in pain. When you pulled your hand back it was stained red. You looked down. Your hand wasn't all that was red.

The time comes for Idia to visit, but there's no sign of him. No knock on the door. No footsteps. No words spoken. It isn't until about 20 minutes after his scheduled time of arrival that you realize there's a blue glow radiating from the crack between the door and the doorframe.

You had had to beg Professor Crewel to allow you to continue with the visits after the little surprise you woke up to this morning. Well, beg may not be the best word. You were told you weren't allowed to speak for the next few days as the largest wound on your abdomen had become much more fragile after it broke open and the movement in your body caused from talking could reopen it. If it opened again. . . .

Anyway, the point was that you were unable to call out for Idia and tell him it was okay to come in. However, at the same time, you had put so much effort into your kicked puppy look to get Crewel to allow Idia's visit today that you weren't willing to let it pass because Idia was too nervous. You considered the bell on your nightstand, but reaching that far was also prohibited by Crewel and the doctors.

To your relief, a quiet knock came from the door at the 30-minute mark. It sounded more like an accidental brush against the door if you were being honest, but that was enough for you. Previously, Idia had no clue that you knew he was there, but with the brush against the door that he knew for a fact that you heard in that deafeningly quiet room, he knew he had to reveal himself.

The door creaked open nauseatingly slow.

When the door was cracked about a foot (≅30.5cm) open you could finally see a hint of glowing blue hair emerge. Just as you were sure his head was about to peak in, the blue disappeared in a flash. The door remained slightly ajar and through that crack came an oh-so-familiar floating tablet. It floated up to you and text appeared on the screen: "Hey."

You glanced between the tablet and your hands resting on your lap a few times as a way of telling it to look at them. When the screen finally shifted to face your splayed-out hands, you began curling fingers into a fist one by one. You were counting down.

Now, logically, Idia knew that in the state you were you couldn't do anything to him. He knew that. . .

Moments later you were sat comfortably (as much as you could be) on your new mattress and sheets, in your newly acquired too thin hospital gown, with an awkward boy in the chair next to your bed.

It was silent for a while before Idia finally spoke "I heard what happened this morning. . . ."

Your eyes widened and you forgot how to breathe for a moment. Last time you got worse as a result of a visit it obviously had to be announced that you'd be taking a break. It wasn't said specifically why, but you were sure there were some who had put two and two together. You didn't even want to imagine what went through Ace and Deuce's mind then. . .. You didn't want the same to happen to Ortho! That's one of the main reasons you wanted to badly to keep the visits going as scheduled.

Seemingly noticing the panic in your eyes, Idia quickly continues: "Ortho doesn't know."

You quickly relax

"I-I uhm. . .I brought you this" Idia mumbles, holding up a handheld gaming console. "Thought it might get boring in here. . .. It has a really long battery life and when it does die, the charging cable is mega long so it'll def be able to reach your bed. I even uploaded the games I knew you liked to play on it plus a few of my favorites."

You smile softly and give a small nod of appreciation.

He sets the console down on the nightstand for now before continuing: "I also got the Professor to agree to let me install a state-of-the-art T.V. made by yours truly to the room. It'll be done by tonight!"

You begin to notice just how much Idia is talking. Sure, he had a tendency to ramble at times, but it's odd behavior for him to be exhibiting after he spent 30 minutes outside the door because he was too nervous to come in.

Before you can think too much about it, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

You cut Idia off by raising your hand a few inches off the bed. The small action makes Idia jump as though you just told him his save data got wiped.

He glances at your face, and you nod to the paper on the nightstand. When he stays frozen, you wave your fingers a fraction to get his tablet to come to your lap where you type into it "Look at the paper."

Idia stares dumbly but complies when he sees you tap the caps lock button.

He takes the carefully folded paper from the nightstand and examines it before opening it up. It's a letter.

Dear Idia,

Ortho told me that you were the one who called STYX for me. I want to thank you for that. I'm grateful for you. Seriously. You saved my life, Idia.

There was more, but he got distracted by a certain sentence.

"You saved my life, Idia."

When Idia first heard what happened, he nearly shattered. His throat tightened and tears began to pour down his face and, before he could even finish processing the information, he was on the phone with STYX frantically pleading that they send their best medical teams over that instant.

Idia's mind was flooded with images of that night. Ortho. The blood. Sevens, there was so much blood.

He tried to save him, he did. He tried so hard!

He put his all into something for the first time, like his actual all, and he failed. He failed himself, but more importantly, he failed his baby brother.

When Idia came back to, he was standing at his workstation staring at the technology he used to build Ortho after. . ..

When he realized what he was doing he knocked the table over. WHAT THE H*LL IDIA! DON'T YOU DARE EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT. THEY'LL MAKE IT. . .they. . .they have to make it.

Idia fell to the ground where he stood and curled up into himself. He stayed like that for. . .well, he doesn't know how long. Ortho had placed piles of water around him in hopes he'd drink it since the crying was no doubt making him dehydrated. Just as Ortho was about to bring in an IV, Idia started moving again, but not much.

It wasn't until the announcement that you were still alive came and that you'd be able to have visitors soon that Idia finally got to work. He may not have been able to save you, but he could at least make your recovery more comfortable.

At least, he thought he hadn't been able to save you. Afterall, Ramshackle fell and he could do nothing about it.

So why. . .why did he start crying when he read those few simple words.

Even if STYX technically did save you after the collapse, he did nothing to prevent it (not that he knew it would fall). And he wasn't the one performing life saving surgery.

It wasn't him.

You pat your lap softly, inviting Idia to lay his head there. It takes a moment for him to do so, but he gently lays his head down, careful to avoid brushing any areas he knows are injured (from reading your medical sheet) or getting too close to your abdomen.

He sobs into your blankets for hours as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

When the time finally comes for him to leave, he drapes his coincidentally freshly washed hoodie over your shoulders (he totally didn't wash one of his already clean spares before he came to see you because he heard that your previous clothes were. . .out of commission and that you had had to put on one of those stupidly cold hospital gowns until you could be gotten new ones).

He tried not to pay attention to the way you smiled so softly at him after he gave you his (best) spare hoodie, or the way your ice-cold hands gently cupped his as he reached down to pick his tablet up from your lap (he immediately grabbed the mittens he saw on your nightstand, made in the familiar style one would see in Harveston, and slid them gently onto your hands).

He opened his tablet later that night hoping to check up on you again through the STYX equipment (that he definitely didn't hack into so he could see how your vital signs were looking) when he noticed something typed into the already opened notes app.

"I won't leave, Idia. I'll fight with all my might to keep my heart beating, so don't worry."

When he read that the tears started all over again.

And again, those words rang through his head: "You saved my life, Idia."

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[shouyuus]

PLEASE elaborate on the version of knight!vi where reader is asking her to show her how “the matters of the bedroom work” PLEASE. you would genuinely have my soul i beg

also adore your fics have the best day!!!

hnnnnghhhh okay okay okay okay i am def gonna write more in the knight!vi universe but like -- +18, mdni, vi-shaped and also very historically inaccurate

knight!vi who gets assigned to be your personal protection by your father, the king, bc he doesn't trust any of the other knights, who are all "young men of a certain elk", and he doesn't think to consider the fact that you might not be interested at all in young men at all, regardless of their "elk".

vi though -- you've always had your eye on her, the way her body is so sculpted, the way that she can keep up with any of the "young men" in question, in the mess hall, drinking and laughing and making dirty jokes. and sure, she tries to be respectful, but you see the way she watches you too, her eyes lingering on the bend of your corseted waist just a beat too long to be totally innocent, the way her eyes go wide when you catch her, the way her cheeks flush and she tries to look like she wasn't just staring every time you meet her gaze.

knight!vi who could swear that you'll be the death of her, with the way you court trouble, and its nearly all she can do to keep you from being discovered by the king, pleading with you when you try to sneak out for the nth time that month, her fingers clasped around your wrist, trying not to think about how soft your skin feels compared to hers.

"oh come now, vi... it's not like i'm doing anything bad..." you say, and the way your voice drags over the word "bad" makes her want to jump into a pit of venomous snakes -- it'd be less perilous than the traitorous thundering of her heart, or the way her stomach clenches at the sensual sweep of your lashes as you bat your lids at her.

"princess," she says, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice, "you know the king --"

"what my father --" you say, raising your voice slightly as you flounce back to your mirror and resume brushing out your hair, "doesn't know won't hurt him," you finish, resolutely setting down your gem-encrusted brush. it's a beautiful thing, glittering in the flickering candle-light. vi's eyes linger on it, wondering how many families it could feed for the winter if it were sold at market.

she swallows around a soft sigh.

you shoot her a triumphant little grin, knowing you've won.

"so -- are you coming, or not?"

knight!vi who starts to relax around you after a while, who tells herself that it's harmless, the charming banter, the careless little quips, the way you lean into her touch for comfort -- she tells herself that she's just upholding her sacred oath -- she is duty bound to protect you, to do well by you, and to keep your best interests at heart. and isn't that what she's doing? and if that includes offering you a hand to hold when you need it, a shoulder to cry on when you're frustrated with your father's growing impatience for you to marry then --

so be it.

knight!vi who overhears you one night, your pitched whimpers and bitten-off moans almost unmistakable (because she'd be lying if she hadn't found herself imagining what you must sound like); she moves as if in slow motion, her limbs shifting without much thought from her -- she watches herself almost from outside of herself as she pushes into your chambers and finds you -- your skin glistening in the dim candle-light, one of your hand fisted in the silken sheets of your bed, the other shoved between your thighs, your hips rocking down --

"princess --?" her voice comes out hoarse, and you gasp, scrambling back up the bed, eyes wide, but the moment you see her, you swallow, letting out a tiny whine.

"v-vi --"

vi nearly crumples, her knees going weak (what she wouldn't do to hear you moan her name like that again, and again, to be the one kissing it from your lips, to work you open over her fingers till her name is the only one you can remember --)

"oh -- fuck -- apologies, princess -- i -- i didn't mean --" she tries to spin around, her cheeks burning as she realizes what she's doing, what she'd walked in on.

you clear your throat delicately; there's a soft shuffling of sheets.

"i -- well, there's no use being coy about it now, i suppose..." you say, your voice flippant, though vi can hear the subtle shake beneath your words. she squeezes her eyes shut once and takes a breath.

"no, princess -- it was inappropriate of me to -- interrupt --" she turns and drops to one knee, her head lowered.

"oh stop it --" you huff, and you sound so petulant that she looks up, only to find you sitting up, your hair a mermaid tangle falling over your shoulders, your skin glistening in the dim half-light. you look nothing short of ethereal.

"princess..."

you bite your lips, looking suddenly bashful, glancing at her before your eyes fall back onto your lap. you start to pick at an invisible loose thread in your silken sheets.

"i -- i thought that since... my father's so dead set on marrying me off... i might as well --" you swallow, waving a flippant hand, though the way your voice trembles leaves vi soft and breathless.

"might as well..." she repeats, letting her voice trail off as she takes a hesitant step forward. you make a face, cheeks burnished beneath the flickering candlelight.

"no one talks to you about this --" you wave your hand again, casting about for the right word, but finding none, you shrug, "stuff."

vi lets out an incredulous laugh, though she manages to pass it off as a cough as you shoot her a half-hearted glare.

"none of your tutors ever..." vi asks.

you roll your eyes, "you really think my royal tutors are going to teach me about the what happens in the marriage chambers?" you slump back into your fortress of pillows, "i know less about sex than the common milkmaid."

vi sighs, carefully perching on the edge of your bed. a part of her is thankful that she'd chosen to forego her heavy armor in favor of a lighter leather tunic. she props her elbows on her knees, legs spread, and tries to think.

"i'm sure it's not as bad as you --"

"how on earth am i to pleasure a -- a man if i can't even pleasure m-myself?" you sound pained, exasperated. vi purses her lips, heat crawling up the back of her neck as a truly terrible idea slithers into her mind. it coils her gut and tangles at her heartstrings. it makes her mouth water and her throat squeeze.

"well --" she says, her words halting, "i don't know much about men..." she keeps her voice as steady as she can, her gaze fixed on a middling point, her entire body angled away from you as if she could will this idea away even as the words tease passed her traitorous lips --

"but i do know a few things about pleasuring women."

knight!vi who no longer wonders if you'll be the end of her because now she knows -- now she knows how you look, your body arched over your silken linens, how you sound when you gasp in pleasure, how your lashes flutter seconds before you come undone around her fingers, your breath heaving from your chest, your eyes unfocused, glazed over with want as your fingers search her out.

"there... easy, princess..." vi soothes as you soften into the tangle of pillows and rucked up sheets.

you let out a breathy little laugh, blowing a strand of hair from your face. you look radiant, spring-kissed and flower-strewn and vi has fought against warriors three times her size but somehow, it's still the hardest thing she's ever done, pulling away from you --

"well," you say, pushing up onto your elbows and cocking your head at her, your doe-eyes dark and wide, "i think that does it."

vi frowns, watching you. you offer her a corner of your bedsheets to wipe her fingers, she stares for a whole three seconds before she realizes what you're doing and hastily shakes her head. you flash her a lopsided little grin before dropping it.

"that does... what, exactly?" she's almost afraid to ask, and under any other circumstance, she might've been stripped of her rank for speaking so informally to you, but given that it isn't under any other circumstance (and she's still got your juices dripping down her wrist) --

"i shall tell my father that i no longer wish to be wed."

"what?" vi gapes.

you tug down your nightgown with neat, prim little movements, tucking your feet underneath you as if your thighs hadn't been wrapped around her forearm just minutes ago.

"you've proven to me something that i've suspected for a long while but --" you sigh, reaching for your water glass. vi makes a short, abortive movement towards it before thinking the better of it and keeping still. you take a small, contemplative sip of water, "well, it's not exactly orthodox, but there's no use lying to papa about it."

vi frowns, her heartbeat quickening in her chest as she blinks at you.

"which is...?" she hedges.

you stare at her, almost expectant as you flutter your fingers through the air.

"that i could never be satisfied by a man, because... i simply don't seem inclined towards them that way."

vi licks at her suddenly very dry lips.

"highness, i'm not certain that's how political marriages work."

you roll your eyes, "oh highness, now, am i?"

vi flushes, her eyes downcast.

you scoff, "no, i'm perfectly well aware of how political marriages work, my most loyal knight," you tick your tongue over her title and she almost winces, but she glances up to find you grinning, that self-same lopsided little thing, sharp as daggers, sharp as the first thin crescent of a waxing moon.

"but. i refuse to be married to someone a don't love, and seeing as i could never love a man, i'm afraid the only answer is for me to never be wed."

again, vi frowns. "but... the throne --"

"will come to me when my father dies."

"no woman's ever ruled without anyone by her side before."

your grin stretches and stretches, and for the first time in a long while, vi remembers that you are most definitely your father's daughter.

"i never said i'd be alone."

vi gulps, "then... who'll you have?"

you flick a strand of hair from your bare, light-kissed shoulder.

"i'll have you."

[kenyummy]

✰ 04. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 04. fantastic four.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: had to wrack my brain to remember what math i was learning in seventh grade LMAO . sometimes i forget damian is just a little guy in like seventh to eighth grade. crazy. and please let me know if there's any mistakes with pronouns/gender!!! i want to keep this open to everybody so im always trying my best ❤️

also ive realised how chopped harry is in the comics after taking my rose coloured lenses off. basically he and mj have their look in the ultimate spiderman TV show (in my eyes anyway, i kind of just described their appearance based off tgat lmaooo)

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

School has never felt so bland for you. Sure, it was never your favourite thing in the world—except for maybe biology—but you'd think that discovering a whole new world in your last year would make it a little more interesting.

It didn't.

It's been three weeks since you crash landed here in Gotham. The most you'd gotten from your family was an awkward "how are you" occasionally, and a lot of staring.

You'd only shown yourself as Spidey a few times to the public, but never stayed for those pesky news reporters shoving their microphones into your face. You'd never liked interviews, anyway.

The only highlight of your long days were MJ and Harry. You'd gotten over the initial shock of Harry being in love with you—convincing yourself that it really wasn't you he liked; it was this world's original you. (Though—that fact still lingers in the back of your mind whenever you talk).

Apart from that, school truly was uneventful. Your kooky art teacher was the only one of whom you actually liked, and it seemed the education here was rather lax. Uncaring. Not good for your future, surely—but you wouldn't have a future here, and you're sure this [name] Wayne will be just fine.

Speaking of schooling—the people here really seemed to hate the Gotham Prep kids. More than what a petty rivalry should be—it was pure malice.

Harry was especially adamant about this.

"They're all dumb, entitled rich kids who use daddy's money to get whatever they want, you know." He stabs his fork into a dry cut of chicken violently. Then points, accusatory, at MJ—who already presents a sneer to him. "And don't you start lumping me in with them—you know I'm not like that."

Her face twists, but soon she grins cheekily. "Okay, fine. Yeah, you're totally not, otherwise nobody here would like you one bit. And who doesn't love Harry, huh?"

"Oh, be quiet," But still, he smiles—damn his head is big. He glances over at you. You're picking around at your soggy broccoli with a frown. "Hey, [name]. Don't two of your brothers go to Gotham Prep?"

You look up at your ginger friend, head tilted to the side before it clicked. Oh, right. Tim and that young boy—Damian, if you remember correctly. Tim barely ever went to school if your diary was still accurate, and Damian had little choice but to.

(Doesn't seem like he'd be the social butterfly type, though.)

"Yeah, they do." You nod, still fiddling around with that vegetable.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're here—but why don't you go to school with them?" MJ leans forward in her seat. "I mean, isn't it easier for siblings to go to the same school?"

Your eyes widen for a second.

There's a few ways you can go about this.

One—you tell them everything you know about your other self. About how you never felt included enough to ask. How you never spent time with them. How it always felt like everything and everyone else was more important than you. How you suffered silently—begging for their attention for years like a house pet becoming a stray.

Two—you could tell them you have absolutely no idea because you have none of your memories of anything from the past years of this life—how you don't even remember all your siblings names half the time.

Or three, and your personal favourite—you can just lie.

It doesn't take a serial genius to figure out which one you chose.

"I guess I just didn't like the rich private school vibe they had going on." A smile falls over your lips. "Plus—you guys were coming here, so it gave me even more of a reason to attend, you know?"

You're not entirely sure that's true. But—if these two were anything like the Harry and MJ you know—then this would probably be right.

Judging from their smiles, your detective skills haven't failed you yet.

"Man!" MJ lolls her head back, groaning. "Can't believe I'm friends with two rich kids who get to choose which school they want—the beat down public or sleek rich private."

"Don't go dissing this school just because you're jealous of their uniforms," Harry snickers, pressing his index finger into MJ's cheek. She huffs and slaps him away.

"Silence, nepo baby. Your dad is basically Lex Luthor if he wasn't bald."

Harry looks more confused than offended at her comment, "Okay, but my dad isn't an evil mastermind plotting against a red and blue suited superhero."

You press your lips together thinly and look to the side, eyes focused on anything but him. Oh, Harry—if only you knew.

Damian Wayne had never truly seen the point of highschool.

Raised by assassains all his life—he had little room, time, and desire to learn about all this nonsense. While he enjoyed arts and fine literature—he couldn't find it within himself to care about the American Revolution, or whatever other ridiculous thing happened in history.

His maths teacher was absolutely, indubitably pathetic. Always on his phone as he assigns mountains of homework (because he never bothers to explain the complex materials they're given) on the latest subject—whether it be those blasted simultaneous equations, or to factorise useless monic trinomials. Even calculating tax and interest on the stupidest of cases.

Damian found himself sitting in the corner of his class in silence, staring down, bored, at the book in front of him. He truly hated math. There's so much real work to be done—crime to fight, plotting organisations to take down.

But his father, as always, is unmoving in his conviction that school is important. For Damian especially, anyway; Drake can skip as often as he likes because he's a senior already. Truly, ridiculous.

For Damian, and—oh.

You.

Bruce always seemed especially insistent on you two going to school. Even when everyone but him knew you skipped every few days and simply come home to wait.

Wait for what? For them?

His brows furrow. Suddenly, the black and white equations on the sheet blur and he zones out. Thinking.

You always did. From the day he'd walked into the manor, you were always there. Unconsciously, he'd notice it. A trait of a good assassin is that they can spot everyone in the room.

A trait of a great assassin is that they can spot everyone inside and watching.

Always, you were watching. Those pitiful stares. Desperate like a unloved pet. If he cared a little more (if any at all), he would've felt sorrow for your state.

Always wanting, but never asking. Never taking. Simply waiting for it all to come to you. He would never understand it. He would never understand you.

He would never understand how somebody could allow themselves to be so weak.

Like everybody else—when he first entered the manor, he proposed to fight you. Assuming—being the child of his father, like he was—you were worthy. That you were strong.

He doesn't know how he could've been so wrong. You immediantly reacted, gasping and clutching your face. He'd nicked it with the edge of his blade after he unsheathed it. You looked at the blood dotting your fingertips, then back at him, eyes wide.

Immediantly, Bruce rushed to his side and pushed him behind his larger, imposing figure—telling you to not interact with him because he's different to regular people. Different to you.

He watched you storm off from behind his father's legs; anger practically blaring off your figure.

Later—he happened to overhear you and Grayson talking quietly. Telling you to not be too hard on Damian, because he's troubled. That he's had a difficult life. At first—he was a tad offended—but that offence could not compare to the absolute fury burning in your eyes.

Though, it all melted away when Grayson's hand ruffled your hair. Like a little kid, you stared up at him, soft and starry-eyed as you unconsciously murmured you'd forgive your new little brother.

Damian dry-heaved. You were so goddamn weak.

So weak, and so normal. Everything you did was completely regular. You were on the same wavelength as the civilians he saved from burning rubble. The same as people who walked down the street, talking about their favourite Justice League member. Who cowered in fear in front of villains—to be saved by those heroes. By him.

You were nothing, and yet everything he could never have been.

(What child does not long for normalcy?)

Damian always thought you were rather helpless, regardless of how regular you were—and seeing you with that bullet lodged in your shoulder—he was right. Not being able to dodge something like a bullet—there was no wonder you never become a vigilante. There was no wonder you needed to be protected.

... Though—he began to think back.

Who did? Protect you; that is.

Whoever it was, they did a pretty awful job at it.

Damian strums his fingers against the hardwood table rhythmically. Face blank but mind running rapidly.

It couldn't have been Todd. No—he seemed to be in a frazzled state of mania when carrying your bleeding body in your arms. Perhaps he too, believed you were safe with the rest of his family.

(Oh how wrong Todd was—he looked livid.)

... Grayson?

No. When he's not in Blüdhaven, he is almost always with the other vigilantes within the family. Not here nor there, and certainly not close enough to protect you.

Not Drake. He never cared enough, despite everything. Not Cain, either. Though the silent protector type—she had too much on her plate to worry about you as well.

Gordon and Brown had their own families to worry about.

And his—your father? The Batman? There was no time for a regular child like you in the Batman's life of vigilantism. Whom he sworn to protect in his crusade now lay bleeding out in his great failure's arms.

...

Did you truly have nobody?

...

Damian couldn't really imagine it. He'd always assumed you had many friends to fill the void that yoir family left with their civilian clothes. ... Perhaps you did. He wouldn't know.

You are his only half sibling. In this world, only he is truly your brother, and you are his only older sibling. Does that not give him the slightest of responsibility?

He'd always been taught to keep everybody at arms length—even his own family. The whole world is out to get the Demon's grandson, then he must fight it. But his father taught him differently.

To protect those who cannot protect themselves—to keep those he cares about safe at any cost.

What of you? He does not care for you in the way an ordinary sibling should. Seeing you so weak, defenceless against him—must mean you trust him in some way.

(It's hard for him to fathom being able to feel so unprotected in a world he was taught was trying to extinguish him at every turn).

Regardless of how you don't belong—or how frosty you act toward your youngest brother—he has a duty.

No matter how hard you try—you can never sever the blood you two share. The others do not have this duty—but he does, because in the end, you are his. None of the others bothered, so Damian must.

You are everything he could never be, he has realised. But in the end, you are blood. It runs thicker in the veins than any water, and that is one of the most important things to Damian.

Seeing that same blood—his blood—spill out of you carelessly—that is a sight he will never bear witness to again.

Damian was the first one out the door as soon as the bell chimed in his ear. His bag slung tightly around his shoulders and textbook under his arm; he rushed into the familiar sight of a sleek, large car.

He shuts the door as he climbs into the backseat (Bruce said he was still too short to sit in the front, much to his son's displeasure). "Hello, Pennyworth."

Alfred glances back at him through the rear view mirror. "Good afternoon, Master Damian. How was school?"

"Same as usual. A waste of time." He clicks his seatbelt shut as the car begins to move. Alfred only hums, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

"I'm unsurprised to hear you say so. I do hope you understand why exactly, you are enrolled in school, however. And why Master Bruce is so adamant about your attendance."

Damian knows. He's always known, because it has been drilled into his head like a mantra. Talia and Ra's Al Ghul weren't math teachers—and most of his time really was spent training and sparring to be the best he could be.

He was not illiterate, nor stupid. Rather smart, actually. However, he didn't exactly learn algebra and chemistry with the League of Assassins.

He grumbles. "I know, Pennyworth. Father cannot seem to stop reminding me that all these things are far more important than stopping the endless wave of crime in Gotham."

If he weren't on the road—Alfred surely would've given him a nasty look. "Master Damian, please—your sincerity is positively slaughtering me."

Damian rolls his eyes, opting to stop this fruitless conversation and look outside the windows instead. At the outside world—the sky already paling to deep auburn shades as they drive through the endless roads.

He watched all the cars moving past; hurrying to get to their destination. Each with their own story and reason for being there. Every single one with their own thoughts and worries. Some with children, others with pets, and some with piles of groceries.

All with their own, individual lives. Including him.

A bus, too. It stops for a moment at a sheltered space, then drives away, leaving a few people standing under the shade.

An elderly lady with a man, presumably her son, walking away with her. A woman with frizzy red hair and freckles dotted over her nose. A few schoolkids—some his age, some older. Clearly from the public school on the other side of Gotham, if only to judge from the scantily clad clothes some of the older students wore—

Wait, is that you?

He sits up—the car slowly coming to a stop at a red light. His eyes don't leave your figure as he presses his nose against the window; observing.

You look around at the people that pass by you—gripping your bag close to your side and rushing into the nearest alleyway.

He waits for a few moments. This red light feels rather long—but what feels longer is watching and waiting for you to come out of that alleyway.

You never do.

Even as the car begins to move once more, driving past the intersection, he crawls as far back as possible to even get a glimpse—but you never show.

Just today, he had decided to be the one to take up the mantle and protect you. Just today, during a boring math class, he has decided that since you are his blood, he must keep a helpless civilian like you safe.

And now you're gone. Are you dead, or something?

(Deep down, his stomach twists at the thought.)

"Pennyworth, pull over." Hid voice is more taut than he had imagined. "Now."

Alfred looks back, glancing at the streets around. He doesn't question the young boy, simply doing as he is asked and pulling over to a deserted parking area.

When he has parked the car, he turns around and sees Damian slipping his Robin mask on—somehow already fully suited up.

His eyes widen, "Master Damian, what—"

"I have something to do. Let Father know I will be back home late."

Opening the door, Damian rushes out and pulls out his grappling hook, swinging onto the nearest building's roof and looking around.

He spots the alleyway you'd run into. It is still. Absolutely no movement nor any looks from passer-bys. He rushes across the roves towards where the dark side seeped into the crack of the buildings.

Maybe you'd taken another way out?

But looking at the alleyway now, it's more like a dip between the buildings to stand in more than anything. It was blocked off on the other side.

So where...???

He drops down, landing on his soles and squinting as he stares around into the dark. There's nothing.

No people, nor bodies, and certainly not anything to indicate anybody was ever here.

Except...

He glances at the wall. Theres a white cocoon-esque oval webbed to the wall. Those same webs he'd seen all that time ago—from that spider. That would show up then leave immediantly. Never staying for longer than they had to.

Dodging all of his and Batman's attempts at asking who you were, and what you were doing in Gotham. Always swinging away into the distance before they could be subdued.

Now, he stares at their ball of webbing and wonders if it truly is an arachnid he's dealing with.

He pokes it, looking it up and down. Then, he sees it. Through the small holes in the webs and the translucent, silk-like material—he finally sees it.

Your bag.

He tears off the webbing faster than he can think, getting the sticky substance stuck to his gloves and clothes; he barely even notices it. He grabs your bag and stares it, swallowing hard.

His mind buzzes with an unfamiliar staticky feeling and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Despite all the noise in his ear—his brain is able to comprehend one singular question.

... What did that arachnid do to you?

Clothed fingers digging deep into the leather fabric of the bag—clearly worn down and fading. Old. He would get Father to purchase you another. ... When he sees you next. Because he will.

His jaw clenches hard.

Damian throws the bag over his shoulder and grapples up—swinging onto a building roof and running across.

Running for what, he isn't sure. But what he is sure of, is that once he gets his hands on that arachnid, it will not be kind.

To find out what happened to you—that is his duty as your blood sibling.

He decides that in this life, he will be your protector. In the next, if he is ever given a chance to be normal like you—he will become a doctor. Or perhaps a painter. Or a poet. Maybe he will ask you to help him decide when he finds you and that arachnid.

... Yes, that sounds good.

You cut through the cool wind as you swing through the city. Grinning widely underneath your mask—you don't think you've ever been so happy since you landed here.

You're sure nobody will take your stuff. Even if they do, you could always just get whatever else you needed again. You were far too excited to dwell on the small stuff right about now.

Landing on a rooftop, crouched—you walk down the wall of the apartment complex, and look around for civilians. As he told you—the streets around the back of the building were practically deserted.

You count the amount of rooms from the side, up and down.

"Row 5, Apartment block... 2..." You hum, and nod to yourself.

You tap your necklace and the nanobots all crawl off your body, leaving you in your regular clothes. You land safely on the balcony of the room you were given.

You smooth out your flared jeans and take in a deep breath. Then, you bring up your knuckles, and knock.

The glass screen door opens before you can say fantastic.

A small pair of arms wrap around your torso and knock you backwards—you fall on your ass and let out a loud laugh.

"Spidey!!! [name]!!!"

"Is that who I think it is?!" You tease, eyes squinted upwards and the young kid buries into your stomach. His giggles are muffled by the fabric and he squeezes you so tight you'd be inclined to choke—if it wasn't you. "Frankie!! How's my favourite Richard?"

"I can't believe you'd say that, [name]. That hurts." A familiarly sweet voice speaks.

"Sue!" You grin, taking in the sight of the blonde and her husband by her side. You get up—Franklin stumbles behind you—and crash into her arms.

She chuckles, patting your back and smiling down at you, "I missed you too, [name]. You always manage to find yourself in the strangest situations, don't you?"

Reed cradles his chin, "Well, we were technically the cause of this distortion in reality, Susan—"

But seeing the expression on both your and his wife's face; he stops himself. Only smiling sheepishly. "My apologies. It's great to see you again, [name]. I didn't think we'd find another familiar face in a different universe."

"You're getting better at this, Reed." You lift yourself from Sue's comforting cradle and grin brightly up at him. "I didn't think I'd see all of you guys again, either. When you all disappeared for so long—I was wondering if something bad happened."

"Hah! Ta us? You kiddin'? Ya more bug-brained 'den that spider that bit ya!"

"Ben!!!" You go flying toward the rock-encased man and wrap your arms around his comfortingly tough neck. He spins you around and lets you down with a loud laugh.

"'Ey kid, how're ya? Heard ya tackled ol' matchstick 'ere outta the sky!" He slaps his rocky chest laughing—in the corner of your eye, Johnny stands behind him, unimpressed.

He walks up beside you, swinging an arm around your neck and snarks, "Yeah—well, Spidey's always been known for catching people off guard, huh? Creepin' up when you least expect it."

"You're making [name] sound like a villain, Unc!" Frankin, who had found himself attached to the side of your shirt, sticks out his tongue.

Johnny recoils, face falling in pure horror as he dramatically points at the young boy, "UNC??!! I... I'm an Unc now...??? I'm not even 19! I can't be an Unc!!!"

You burst out into laughter at the genuineness of Johnny's expression, watching as he freaks out about being "old". Sue and Reed roll their eyes—while Ben is there with you, laughing his ass off like he'd just gotten a home run on Yancy Street.

Franklin looks at your laughing expression and starts giggling along—jumping up and down beside you with sparkling eyes.

"Stop laughing, [name]! We're the same age!" Johnny points, accusatory. "If I'm an Unc, you're a...!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm cooler than Uncle Johnny anyways, right Frankie?" You grin, picking up Franklin as he cuddles into your neck.

"Mhm!" He nods eagerly.

Johnny sends you a blazing glare, lips pouted out. "You and me. We're—" He gestures to the two of you. "—gonna have some issues, here. Okay. Everyone knows I'm the cool Uncle."

"No, that's Benny!" Franklin points to Ben.

The look on Johnny's face shifts into utter disbelief—Ben falls out of his chair laughing wildly.

"Gosh, I missed you so much, kid." You pull at one of Franklin's cheeks and chuckle. He stares at you in awe for a few seconds, before hugging the side of your head and giggling.

"I missed you too!"

That same warmth fills each crevice and pore of your body, as you huddle close to your dear friends and let yourself feel at home for this small moment.

Meanwhile, in the dark of night, a pair of azure eyes watches, sharp and unnerving in the back of your skull.

You notice it. Of course you do. Your mind is tingling with that buzz—but you want to enjoy this night of nothing but home, even if only once.

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[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[missdynamighttt]

About the interview thing where Bakugou say "when I make love to my wife", here is a few more lines he could say! Imagine Bakugou softer when talking about that. He has a lost look and a strange smile on his face, all because of his girl.

"The bed it's our kingdom and she's my queen".

"That's where I belong. In her."

"Being a hero is just my job, something I'm good at for a while. But making love to her? There's nothing better. Knowing that I'm the only one who can make her feel like that, who can adore her like that... And she's the only one for me too. Nothing else matters. Not the fights, the danger, the villains, the paperwork, the pressure or the expectations. Just a husband and wife loving each other all night along."

And in this context, Bakugou would say that he finds pathetic and sad that a man only lasts a few minutes and only one round. Sometimes he hears his fellow heroes talk about sex and he can only feel sorry for their girlfriends, but also proud to know that his wife will never know how those girls feel, because for Katsuki Bakugou if a man is not willing to last at least all night, if each round does not last more than 10 minutes, if he does not have his woman crying with pleasure and love, If he doesn't make her not remember how many times she came, if he don't have sex with her every single day without miss, if she is not on the verge of fainting without being able to walk the next day, is the man really a man or just a poor attempt?

as your husband walks through the threshold of your home, the sound of the lock clicking behind him echoes in the quiet room. katsuki immediately notices the change in the air—there's an awkward tension that wasn't there when he left.

you’re avoiding his gaze, busily moving around the kitchen, trying to keep your mind occupied. you’re embarrassed, the thought of his words replaying in your mind again and again.

the fact that he shared such... intimate, genuine thoughts with the entire world... it wasn’t that you were ashamed, but the sudden attention on your private life caught you off-guard.

"so... you’re gonna act like you didn’t just see me on tv?" katsuki says with a hint of curiosity, and a touch of worry as he notices how your back was turned away from him.

without a word, you feel the heat of his body as he presses himself against your back, his strong hands settling on your waist. he presses his lips to the side of your neck, warm and soft against your skin. it starts off slow and gentle at first, but there’s an underlying urgency to it, a need for your attention.

"i'm sorry, baby," he murmurs between kisses. "i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, alright?"

"katsuki," you scold as he apologizes, your breath hitches when he places a particularly slow kiss on your collarbone, warmth from his affection still lingering in your chest.

"i’m sorry… but i don’t regret saying any of it. you’re my wife, and i’m fuckin' proud of it. i'm the one who gets to love you like this. i'm the one who gets to fuck you so hard you see stars."

katsuki doesn't stop kissing you, his kisses growing more insistent, but you don’t let him off the hook so easily. you finally turn around, gently pushing him back, even as your heart races.

"i just can't believe you said all that. on live tv," it’s clear you’re not mad, unsure of how to handle this side of him— this soft, unfiltered honesty as his lips trail down your neck to your shoulder.

his fiery gaze softens just a little, and then presses another kiss to your lips, this one slower, deeper, as if to reassure you. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. just… don’t ignore me, okay? it hurts."

"you’re unbelievable," your voice holds more affection than you’d like to admit. "you just gonna let millions of people know how much stamina you have, huh? bet they all think you're some kind of—"

sex god. but before you can say it, katsuki presses a firm kiss to your lips, cutting off your words, his hands slipping around your back to pull you in even closer. he doesn’t let you retreat this time, his lips working their magic on you, unable to ignore the way your body betrays you.

"don't fuckin' care. you're still my wife, sweets. you’re the only one who matters to me. maybe i just need to show you how much i love you. properly."

you scold him with a half-hearted shove, but there's no real heat behind it. "you really know how to make a woman want to kill you and kiss you at the same time, don’t you?"

as he pulls away just enough to look you in the eye, feeling the heat of his gaze. you can’t deny the way his words, his kisses, have melted the tension between you. "you know you're the only one for me, sweets. always."

"i know. but you’re still crazy for doing that."

he chuckles, pulling you close, burying his face in your hair. "yeah, well… crazy’s what you get when you’ve got an amazin' fuckin' wife like you."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ SHAMELESS KATSUKI ENJOYER NUMBER TWO OMGOMG

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers