#he’ll give kindness where he can (limited places. people alone & without a crowd. people who can’t hurt him or have power over him)

[venti-death-watch]

like, aventurine strikes me as someone who will help a child find their family, leave someone alone or try to help them in subtle ways if he sees they’re having a bad day (and he has nothing against them), and try to be nice/relatively nice to service workers/those with less power than him (if it’s not part of a plan), but he’s also someone who like, has no issue with torturing/murdering for information, or talking people into contracts that will fuck over their entire planet for the ipc, or tearing down your life around you if you are against him. do you get it

i think a lot of people have a hard time reconciling aventurine’s ruthlessness with his kindness. and like to be honest, i fall into those traps a lot too.

he’s someone who has fought for everything he’s ‘had’, whose all-or-nothing mentality comes from how anything less than the best is not an option if he wants to survive, who i think is a lot more ruthless and cunning than people are willing to see him as.

but he’s also the guy who instantly was incredibly kind to his child self without even knowing it was him.

and tbh, i don’t see why he can’t be both at once.

[miekasa]

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

[astaroth1357]

My Protective Demon and Me: How to Live with Your Overly-Protective Hellspawn!

Intro:

So you've bagged yourself a demon, huh? Well, there are many great benefits to dating the otherworldly creatures of Hell, including increased power, longevity, and security! We can assure you that your demon boyfriend wants nothing more than to keep you safe, dear human, but this can be a new experience for the uninitiated. Never fear, because we have put together this guide to help you navigate the relationship you've just signed your soul into! My Protective Demon and Me is an instructional tool for your new demonic partnership, designed to introduce you to the protective tendencies of Seven Rulers of Hell. Listen to our advice, and you won't be left wondering why your boyfriend insists on carrying you down the stairs or loses his mind when you're injured by paper!

(Warnings: Possessive Behaviors, Implied PTSD, Yandere-ish)

Lucifer 

Now, there's no kind way to say this, but Lucifer will think of you as small, weak, and helpless on most days. We promise it's not quite as insulting as it sounds because to him, that just makes you cuter.

Because he thinks you're so pathetic, he will want to provide for you in all sorts of ways. This includes security.

Lucifer's approach to keeping you safe is a little indirect, and it may sound a tad… invasive, but that's only because he's not able to be with you in person as often as he'd like.

He uses familiars spread across the Devildom to keep an eye on you during the day. Don't fret; these familiars aren't there to tell him about your every waking breath. Just monitor you and report back to him if something's amiss.

If there's an alert, he will drop everything to be sure that you're alright. The second he knows something's wrong, he'll be right with you within a minute, Diavolo be damned. 

He may try to play it off as he just happened to be in the area if others are around, but in truth, he'd use magic to recall himself to your side. 

Speaking of magic… Again, since he can't be with you as much as he wants, you may begin to notice your body getting stronger to a certain degree over your time with him. Is he secretly using magical means to strengthen your bones or make your skin harder to tear? He will never say, so best not ask.

Potential threats against you are dealt with discreetly, mostly under the guise of safeguarding the exchange program for Diavolo. No offenders will ever make it to the castle dungeon, though, as Lucifer tends to finish them off on sight... We recommend that you make yourself scarce during these times. Torture is such a nasty thing to witness...

Lucifer would like to believe that, in being with him, you're the safest that you could possibly be, but he always worries about what danger you're in while he's busy with work. A part of him blames his lack of vigilance over Lilith for her downfall, and he has strained to recover a sense of security over his loved ones ever since... Though he may come across as overbearing, just know he only watches you that closely because he couldn't bear to lose you.

Mammon

If you've won over Mammon's heart, then he's going to guard you as fiercely as a dragon does its treasure. But be warned because this can lead to confrontation...

Mammon will see himself as your bodyguard of sorts, so he'll try to be around you at all hours of the day. He'll start by making excuses like he needs study help, but after a while, he'll just hope you come to accept him as a constant fixture in your life and don't question his hovering.

He will stick very close to you in public, particularly when among other demons. He's the second strongest of his brothers, so this alone should deter most threats but don't be surprised if you see him scan the room you're in from time to time.

Take care not to hurt yourself around Mammon because he has yet to fully process how fragile the human body is. He may panic upon seeing you hurt (and he's not the most helpful when he's panicking…).

Should you get hurt when Mammon is near, you may see his protective instincts spike considerably. He will offer to carry heavy packages, refuse to let you handle sharp objects, and hold out a hand to steer you around tight corners.

Do not threat, this added level of attention is only temporary. Remind Mammon that accidents are a part of human life, and you can get yourself through them as the species normally does. 

If someone actually tries to hurt you, we advise you to stay calm and focus on getting harmed as little as possible. Unfortunately, there will be no good way to talk Mammon out of fighting in your defense. It's best to focus on minimizing the damage to yourself and staying alive until help can be brought to you.

Mammon does this not to look down on you, but because he loves you so deeply, he's devastated any time he sees you hurt. Be patient with him, and he will learn to draw back his fear to a more appropriate level. Always know, though, that he worries about you constantly, so try not to give his demonic heart too many palpitations - yes?

 Leviathan 

Levi is in some ways more chill than his brothers, and in others far more extreme depending on the location you find yourselves in.

If you are in his room (which you will be a lot), then he will be very relaxed. As far as he's concerned, you are in his domain and thus perfectly safe. There's no need to worry about you getting hurt or stumbling upon any rivals.

If you are together in the outside world, however, he will be very on edge. You are the most important individual in his life, so any possibility of you leaving him by death or by choice is not acceptable.

He will try his damnedest to steer you away from large crowds or packed spaces because he will be terrified of losing you in the chaos. Being in any public place where he can't see you will drive his anxiety through the roof. His imagination is quite active, and his mind is always against him.

If you are with his brothers, then he will be particularly tense. He acknowledges both their capacity to drag you into dangerous shenanigans AND steal away your affections, neither of which are options he'd like to pursue.

He will rarely let you be alone with his brothers without express permission, and even then, he has likely shot a threat to them about minding your safety (and your relationship) beforehand. As he is third strongest, only Mammon and Lucifer would ignore his "requests" but only to a point. It's a terrible mess whenever he summons Lotan in the House…

If someone else hurts you retribution will be swift (and bordering on lethal) because he's far more worried about getting back to making sure you're alright. He won't have his Henry dying on his watch, after all.

If you happen to hurt yourself, expect him to stow you away in his room for even longer than usual. Your accidental demise is a recurring fear of his, so he will need a great deal of reassurance that you are still with him and not quite at death's door just yet (yes, even if you get a papercut).

Leviathan is so protective of you because he feels like he has the most to lose if you died/left. He interacts with so few people that having even one show him patience is a game-changer. He would have the hardest time moving on should your presence ever leave him, so protecting you is the best thing he can do to protect himself from that pain in the future.

Satan

Satan's protective nature is less overt than the others, but in many ways, it's more… intense.

He's more familiar than the others with the fragility of human bodies thanks to many years of casual study. Thus, he has bulked up his knowledge of your species in earnest to help keep you safe.

What we mean to say is, fear not, you're now dating a doctor. He may not have an M.D. to his name, but he's pretty damn close.

He will want to know about any slight inconvenience you may be experiencing, from a slight headache all the way to broken bones. He prefers to diagnose your problem quickly then use any combination of magic or medicine to heal your ailments. You will rarely struggle with ongoing discomfort again!

That being said, he can be quite pushy. There will be no, "I'll just sleep it off" with him. If it can be fixed, he will fix it. Your patience be damned.

If you somehow manage to hurt yourself… He will be disappointed, but he will not deny you assistance. He will lecture you if he sees you doing potentially reckless activities, though, because it's his (self-imposed) job to patch you up afterward.

It should really go without saying that most demons know better than to hurt someone he loves. He may not be the strongest of his brothers, but he is among the least merciful, and that does make a difference.

If, for whatever reason, one actually does manage to harm you, then you have an important choice to make. Do you allow him to act on his anger or be the one to show mercy when he will not? If you'd like to be charitable, please consult our helpful material, How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend: Tame Demons, Save Lives.

At his core, Satan worries about his demonic side because he knows how easily his Wrath can take over. So he does his best to circumvent these destructive tendencies with nurturing ones. He may come off like a worrywart, but helping you is just as much an assurance to him as it is a service to you. He's not destined to hurt you. He can heal you instead.

Asmodeus 

Asmo is a free-spirited individual who would like to afford you the same freedom that he enjoys… but he knows very well how fragile the human body is. He's had many human lovers over the years, so he's very familiar with your limitations.

However, he's also aware of how capable you can be despite your perceived weaknesses (he's been friends with Solomon for years, after all).

Unfortunately, this won't stop him from worrying about your safety entirely. It's nothing personal, we assure you. He simply wants to be sure the love of his life can be with him for as long as possible.

Asmo shows his protectiveness most when confronted. He's far more worried about some demonic lowlife taking advantage of you than he is you falling off a step ladder. He understands that accidents will happen and that most are ultimately harmless, but other people? They can do you far more harm.

Due to his disposition and rank, most demons won't take his claim to you seriously. This is to their folly. Though he may not be physically strong as his elder brothers or even Beel, what he lacks in raw power he makes up for in deception.

Like Mammon and Levi, Asmo will want to be close to you out in public, but he will come across as far more relaxed than those two. This is partly due to his more developed confidence and because it makes it easier for him to charm potential threats into leaving you alone. Things are taken care of quickly after that.

Should you get injured well… Asmo will not be much help for anything aside from getting you to someone who actually can. He'd likely panic worse than Mammon, so do your best to remain calm and assure him that you will be fine after a little assistance.

His treatment of you post-injury won't differ much from how it usually is, because again, he knows that when there's a human involved - it's bound to happen.

Asmo's fear of others, both tragically and ironically, stems from his sin itself. Though he always tries to champion his partners' consent, he knows more than anyone that others can let their Lust drive them mad... His worst nightmare is letting you fall victim to one of those monsters because, frankly, he wouldn't know what to do with himself if that ever were to happen.

Beelzebub 

Beel is protection incarnate. This is something he's been doing long before you met and will likely continue to do until the end of his days. Protecting those he loves is in his nature.

That being said, this means is you are dating the equivalent of a demon-shaped Doberman Pinscher, loving and loyal to you and an absolute nightmare to your enemies.

Though he doesn't feel quite the same need to hang off you as Mammon might, Beel's protection can be likened to something like a hired-bodyguard. Close, but not too close, and always vigilant almost to a territorial degree.

If someone Beel doesn't like approaches you, he may growl at them. We would recommend you heed his warning. Beel is generally a good judge of character, and if something strikes him as off, then there may be cause for concern.

Fortunately for you, Beel does not jump to conclusions nor confrontation very often. Though he may act intimidating, he won't make any moves unless given an "Okay" from you beforehand.

This, however, does NOT apply if someone actually hurts you in any way. Though he may seem sweet and wholesome, please remember, he is a demon and the demon of Gluttony at that. Someone will be eaten for their transgressions, but he would rather you not watch if possible.

Truthfully, what will scare Beel far more than possible attackers are injuries in and of themselves. He has what basic first aid is afforded to anyone who plays sports but is nowhere near qualified to save you from something life-threatening... Should you become injured or sick, it would devastate him that he can no longer take care of you. He may even be at risk of a small breakdown as a result.

The events of Celestial War have perhaps taken their heaviest toll on Beel. Whether it's true or not, he carries a lot of the blame for what happened on his shoulders... The idea of going through something like that again, but now with you, scares him more than anything. Please remember, under that kind exterior lies dormant wounds that will likely remain unhealed long after you're gone...

Belphegor 

Belphegor is a strange case because, in some respects, he is one of the most possessive of the brothers... But he's also the least overtly protective.

Part of it is, yes, his inherent laziness. Following you around all day would be quite a hassle. He also can't expect you to stay in bed with him 24/7 (not that he lets that stop him from trying). Even setting up complex background machinations to keep an eye on you would be too much work...

But that doesn't mean that he leaves you alone entirely. If there is one thing that Belphegor tries to shield you from, it's his brothers. For possessive reasons, yes, but also as a form of protection.

Belphie is acutely aware of how often his brothers' shenanigans can lead to disaster. As such, he'll try to drag you out of their problems as much as possible.

It's not lost on him that the events that lead to your first demise were all due your penchant for meddling in his brothers' affairs. So in his eyes, a fairly simple and effective way to keep you out of trouble would be to keep you from them as much as possible.

As far as injuries go… "He dislikes seeing you hurt" is the least complicated way of putting things. Seeing you with major injuries obviously triggers some uncomfortable and unwanted memories for him, as it would for you. However, his emotions quickly get muddled up in it...

The sudden combination of fear, panic, shame, and anger can strike him at once and leave him in a frozen or vulnerable state... Painful for sure, but also not helpful in that situation. Minor injuries, thankfully, do not cause this reaction.

If you're injured and Belphegor appears to be going through trauma, we recommend calling for assistance from someone nearby or a different brother if possible (Satan would be a good option). Once you're stable, Belphegor will be relaxed somewhat but may need some cuddling.

Even with his lazy attitude, Belphegor does care for you and will try to keep you safe in his own way.  He may hide the intensity of his emotions behind a veil of apathy, but they run so strong that they can be paralyzing. Never doubt that he does love you, and try your best to be there for him when things become difficult...

More from the How-To series in Masterlist 1.0; More recent HCs in Masterlist 2.0

[sunarintoes]

Street racer!bf/gf headcanons

Note: this is set in the world of adkor - an ongoing series featuring the haikyuu characters as street racers! However you don’t actually have to read it to understand these headcanons (they’re just regular bf hcs with a bit of spice)

Includes: the main trio of love interests - Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Kiyoko

✗ As a bf he would honestly love for you to attend his races but would honestly be really scared for you. Like he wouldn't want you to be at the bleachers or a checkpoint alone because he knows he’s in a sketchy crowd and wants to prioritise your safety!

✗ So during the races where he’s not with you, you chill in Seijoh’s clubroom with the managers and everyone else who’s not racing or working. There you watch the race live on the large flatscreen that’s been divided into 12 sections - each broadcasting a different checkpoint or area. 

✗ OMG!!! He would definitely want to see you try on his uniform - wear his helmet or his jacket and he would literally melt for you <3333 Iwa my beloved. Not that he’d ever really admit that he liked it, but you’d know by the way his face heats up and he becomes a stuttering mess. 

✗ Speaking of wearing his uniform- omg he would absolutely die for you to wear a jacket or a hoodie of his to the races!! And honestly why wouldn't you? It smells good, it's comfy and if we’re being completely honest… you look hot in it! 

✗ Iwa is not the irresponsible type (*cough* Oikawa *cough*) so he would not! Absolutely never allow you to sit in the passenger seat while he drives in a race - even if you are a racer yourself. 

✗ Howeverrrr, if it’s just a chill day with the two of you, he’ll take you for a spin in his car - speed down the streets of Miyagi at obscure hours of the night or perhaps the break of dawn.

✗ Dates are so cute and fun with him! He’ll drive you to cool places that are probably abandoned or restricted/off limits and then he’ll treat you to a cute picnic. 

✗ Every so often he posts pics of you with sappy captions on instagram. His instagram is mainly just car stuff though lol :P

✗ Tries to keep you away from Oiks but you end up becoming besties with him <3, he’ll never admit it but he loves that the two people he cherishes most are close with each other

✗ Following adkor plot, if Yn ends up with Iwa he’ll likely be a bit jealous if they ever interact with Oikawa (because Oiks also fancies Yn for those who don't know). This may cause a strain on his relationship with Oikawa but also Oiks’ relationship with you/Yn. Eventually he’ll get over himself and become less insecure but it will take time. 

✗ He’s also jealous of Kiyoko, she’s so pretty and kind and loving and caring and best of all? She’s safe. Kiyoko does not endanger her life and she rarely yells and she’s just so peaceful. He just can't understand how he is so polar opposite to your ex and it makes him insecure - he’ll most likely be cold and distant towards her to deal with himself.  

✗ You've definitely made out in the backseat of his car :) 

✗ Oh! Also he lets you choose his air freshener. Calls it his “good luck charm.”

✗ How cute <3

✗ This salty class A bitch

✗ My misunderstood and emotionally vulnerable baby 🥺

✗ Ok I literally love Oiks he is so fun to write

✗ Oh yeah you both definitely got off on the wrong hand (like Yn!)

✗ Y’all hated each other and were so fkn spiteful but it’s okay now

✗ You’re each other’s emotional support buddy. A shoulder to cry on. He needs it and you do too (i mean, why else would you be here?)

✗ He has definitely taken you on a race before - you sat in the passenger side and it's all g don't worry bb you were geared up to the max - helmet and all. 

✗ Homie gets so jealous 

✗ Of everyone might I add. He gets both more jealous with Iwa and less jealous. It's hard to explain but he trusts Iwa with his whole heart and knows that he’ll never pull anything but at the same time he just can’t help that he’s insecure. He really hates it, he hates that horrible bubbling feeling of green fire that burns his throat like venom and he hates that it yanks at his heart strings and controls him as if he were a marionette but he just can’t help himself from suffering from it. Thats why he started going to therapy

✗ When you notice that he’s jealous - and trust me, you will, all you have to do is delicately lace his fingers with yours and wrap your other arm around his; maybe place a light kiss on it - preferably his shoulder if you can reach. This simple action is enough to calm him down and remind him that your love belongs to him - nobody else.

✗ Dates are wild and passionate. He zooms along the streets of Miyagi with a grin so large and so carefree you can't help but fall in love all over again with how at peace and genuine he’s being. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other around you, occasionally he looks over to wink but then he turns back and and lets the wind from his open window run uncontrollably through his already unruly hair. This, ladies, gentlemen and esteemed guests, is a sight so beautiful and genuine that it would be burned into your irises as a core memory if you will - something unforgettable. 

✗ Y’all have fucked in his car without a doubt 😳 sorry bb I don't make the rules; he does. 

✗ Oh and, wear his jacket. He fucking loves to watch you parade around in something he owns :)

✗ Kiyo my beloved <3

✗ She’s so soft for you

✗ Honestly she’s surprised that you’re back with her, she thought that she’d never get a second chance and that you had already moved on from her but turns out she’s wrong as you're currently resting your head on her lap (cute)

✗ When everyone’s racing you two sit together in the Karasuno team room and cuddle while you watch the race go down on the large flatscreen. 

✗ You definitely eat snacks while you watch because duh, who wouldn't? The race makes you so nervous that you just have to sink your teeth into something to prevent your nerves from short circuiting.

✗ She holds your hand like she’s gripping onto you for dear life while you watch the races - she says it's because she’s nervous, which is true, but she’s also scared that you’ll leave her so she wants to hold you tight to prevent that from happening. 

✗ Dates are so cute, you go to small cafes and she does her manager stuff while you stress and rip your hair off over the complexities of building an environmentally friendly car. Honestly the whole time she sneaks glances at you and blushes at how cute you are when you’re stressed out. She won't admit it though. 

✗ PLEASE PLEASE reassure her that you don't feel any negative emotions towards her and that you love her. She needs it. 

✗ Okay if we’re not following adkor’s plot and you're a street racer yourself then she is going to be so worried for you! She will constantly check up on you before your race and hold you in a hug so tight you swear you’re going to die from lack of oxygen; though she only does this behind your team’s garage/locker room/club room because she gags at PDA 

✗ Definitely gives you the same type of hug after you finish the race. 

✗ I think she would melt if you wore some of her clothes or even an accessory. 

✗ Omg please drape her scarf over her and say “don't want you getting a cold now- or maybe i do because then id get to snuggly the hell out of you ;)”

✗ Kiyoko best girl and bisexual icon. Date her for warmth and happiness <3

[wheatley-imagine-scenarios]

Idk if you're taking hc suggestions, if you're not that's completely fine!! Jus scroll past this one. BUT if you are! I've got some inspiration.

I've been doing a whole heck of a lot of travelling this week and I was thinking about Wheats. How about some airport/airplane (or just travelling in general) hcs of Wheatley? Other characters encouraged, he was just the star of the show in my head lol.

Yes, I take headcanon suggestions! The portal 2 crew traveling together would be very chaotic and awesome :)

Wheatley

"Are you forgetting anything?"

"I don't believe so"

But he probably is

Also usually forgets to take something out of his pockets at airport security

And panics before realizing its just some change or something

The flight itself would be fine if GLaDOS would stop telling him terrible things and fake statistics about plane crashes

Normally sits in the middle seat

Likes to see different parts of the world

Human things are interesting, after all

Not great at talking to people, though, so there’s limits to where he can go alone without embarrassing himself

Sticks with Chell, since she’s the one he’s most comfortable around

And because they’re dating

Loves going into little shops to get souvenirs, or getting photos to keep

Goes full dad friend on vacations

Virgil

The one who checks in on everyone to make sure they aren't forgetting anything

Mostly Wheatley

The mom friend

Worried about being late, so makes sure they show up an hour or two earlier than necessary

"Pluto hasn't even gotten dressed yet, this is terrible" "We have plenty of time-" "Do you w a n t to miss our flight?"

This paranoia and anxiety fades once they get on their plane

From there, he keeps Wheatley's fear at bay by making GLaDOS shut the fuck up

Has the window seat next to Wheatley because after becoming human and seeing the sky, he takes every chance he gets to admire it

Chell

Has the aisle seat by Virgil and Wheats, so she can get up whenever she wants without struggle, and if Wheatley gets anxious/claustrophobic and needs to stand up, she can let him out quickly.

Is tired of everyone else's shit, as usual

Is the one to find Wheatley's things that he forgets

"I'm all packed-" "Toothbrush?" "Right, toothbrush. Thanks"

Honestly deserves this vacation

By the end of the vacation, she’s about ready to ‘forget’ Rick and get on the plane home without him

GLaDOS

Filling Wheatley's mind with flight anxiety

Sits in the aisle seat behind the other three because she doesn't want to be crowded

Is a responsible adult who remembers her own shit

But doesn't help Wheatley with his

In fact, goes out of her way to do the opposite

Chell: "You have everything now?" Wheatley: "Yep" GLaDOS: "I think I saw your brush in the bathroom just now" Wheatley: "What, I thought I packed that-" *goes to check the bathroom*

It was, in fact, already packed

GLaDOS was just being a bitch

Rick

Will forget things like snacks

Will not forget any clothing or accessories

Sits by the window in GLaDOS' aisle

Annoys and jokingly makes fun of Virgil and Wheatley from behind

Chell can't reach him, but she will give him a death glare if she decides he's gone too far

Then he'll reluctantly shut up and sit back

I don’t like Rick, idk if you can tell-

He’ll often separate from the group to find his own kind of adventure, only for the others to have to find him and tell him that “no, you can’t hop the fence of an animal enclosure” and “no, you will not win the fight. The fucking rhino will”

Pluto

Sits in the middle, behind Wheatley

Talks to him and those next to eirself about how excited he is to be on vacation, and all they're gonna do

The child, basically

Can still see through the window

Rick moves out of the way when Pluto wants to look out

He's usually pretty good with remembering eir stuff, but is slow at getting ready

Despite moving fast, he's much too distracted by his own thoughts to actually get things done quickly

Nathan

Responsible adult #2

Gets his shit done, keeps everyone else on track

Or at least, he tries to

Sits in the aisle seat across from GLaDOS' row

Reads a book during the flight

At their destination, he likes doing tours and learning about the place's history

Nigel

Sits in the middle of Nathan's row

Sometimes asks him about the book he's reading

But mostly talks to Rain, since Nathan doesn't want to be bothered

On the trip itself, he sticks with Nate a lot

He finds learning new things interesting

Nate doesn't mind, and actually enjoys having someone to share information with

Likes any type of art exhibit/museum type thing

Rain

Has the window seat by Nigel

Likes taking the scenic routes once they get there

And anything nature themed

Or artsy, it's something he and Nigel have in common

Tags along with whoever will take him tbh

Listen, all we got for him is one line and all the obvious stuff I got from that was “Rick but gay” and I am not doing him like that

Full offense to Rick

[anactorya]

What Doesn’t Kill You (2200 words, PG-13, hospitalization, grief/mourning, mild horror)

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Halloween bingo. Prompt: witching hour. Also on AO3.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Sam’s heard it a hundred times, even believed it a few of them.

Right now, clutching the edges of his hospital chair tight enough to leave fingernail imprints in the scratchy plastic, watching Bucky waxen and still and breathing through a tube, he’s pretty sure it’s a bunch of bullshit. Because he’s fine, got a few scrapes and bruises and a knock on the head that didn’t even give him a concussion, nowhere near death’s door, and he feels weaker and more useless than he ever has. Worn out like an old dishtowel. You could hold him up to the light and see right through him.

He keeps thinking back to Steve. All the hours Sam spent sitting at his bedside after they found him half-drowned on the bank of the Potomac, waiting for him to wake up. He held it together pretty good back then, but this is different. The doctors keep saying shit like minimal brain activity and invasive life support and limits of enhanced healing, and Sam knows what that stuff means. Bucky isn’t going to wake up.

In a way, it’s more like the day Riley died, except the whole thing’s happening in slow motion and Sam gets a front row seat to every excruciating inch of that spiral towards the ground. Another person Sam loved, gone before he ever plucked up the courage to say how he felt, because he can fall backwards out of planes and leap off buildings and go toe-to-toe with alien megalomaniacs, but when it comes to letting someone else in on his heart, he’s a fucking coward.

So, yeah. Sam’s lost people before. Riley, his parents, Nat. Steve, who never even said a real goodbye. Karli, who could’ve been good if he’d gotten through to her a little earlier. But this might be the one that finally breaks him.

A hand finds his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. It’s Rhodes, his face set in a carefully neutral expression that makes Sam want to say something shitty just to wipe it off.

He doesn’t. Rhodes has always been good to him, better than he has to be, and the guy knows what it’s like. He lost a best friend too.

Except, no, he doesn’t know, not really. Nobody does. Sam’s never told them.

“Sam,” Rhodes says, heavily, “you’ve been here for three days, and I hate to say it, but you’re starting to smell like it.”

Sam shakes his head, breathes into his hands.

“At least take a shower, sleep in an actual bed. The doctors–”

“The doctor told me to contact his family, make arrangements,” he hears himself say. His voice is very distant, very flat. “I’m his family.”

“Pepper has people,” Rhodes offers. “If you don’t wanna deal with that stuff, you don’t have to.”

A flash of anger burns in his chest–at the way everyone’s talking about this like a done deal, like it’s already over, and at the same time, at the thought that if he has to organise a, a fucking funeral for Bucky he might want to be hands-off about it, not make sure himself that everything gets done right. It’s a tangled, inchoate mess of feeling, none of which makes it out his mouth. His hands are shaking.

Rhodes squeezes his shoulder. “Go home, Sam. Be with your family.”

He leaves, and the only sound left in the room is Bucky’s mechanical breathing. The bruises on his face have faded away, healing where the damage inside of him couldn’t and leaving him looking unfairly normal. Like a still photograph of himself, except for all the damn equipment keeping him alive.

Sam got wake up you asshole and you’re not allowed to leave me here alone out of his system days ago, and now all he does is reach for Bucky’s hand and squeeze it. Bucky doesn’t squeeze back, doesn’t react at all, not even a flutter of an eyelid, and after a moment Sam lets his hand fall back to his side.

#

Louisiana means you grow up knowing magic’s real. Sam knew it long before he ever met Wanda or Strange, or saw an alien god opening portals to another world on the TV news. It isn’t some big mystery, and it’s probably the same anyplace you can head out on the water–or up a mountain or into the deeps of a forest–and not see a living soul for hours on end. It just is. You know there are things out there, strange and old and probably best left alone, so you avoid them unless you’re desperate.

Sam’s been desperate before, or thought he was. He got halfway out here after Riley died, before he remembered he preferred physics to folklore and turned the hell around.

Tonight, he isn’t so sure.

There’s a post sticking up from the bank at the edge of the water, probably the remnant of an old dock that’s long since crumbled into the water. Some people claim it’s the signpost of a drowned crossroad, though that doesn’t make a lick of sense geographically.

Either way, what the rumours say is it’s a place to get help when all human means have failed. Come out here in the hour after midnight–the witching hour, when the veil between worlds is thinnest. Take a photograph and a drop of your blood, bury them beside the post, and something will come out of the water and help you. For a price.

Now, Sam scrapes away damp earth with his bare hands, Carlos’s borrowed boat bobbing in the water behind him. Hurried out here so fast he forgot to bring tools. Lucky Carlos left his penknife in there.

The photograph is from Torres’s Polaroid phase. Ankara, he thinks, after a mission. Bucky’s usual scowl has slipped as he crouches to pet one of the ubiquitous street cats (It doesn’t matter if he’s got fleas, Sam, they can’t bite vibranium!) and Sam’s in the foreground, smiling way brighter than he’d realised at the time.

Sam bisects it carefully with the penknife, making sure no part of Bucky is visible on the section he presses into the ground, and slips the other half into his back pocket. Then he grits his teeth and draws the blade across his palm, watches the blood spatter his sunlit face.

After that, he waits.

It’s almost peaceful out here for a while, just the insect noises of the night and the plashing of the water and the sound of his own breathing. The minutes tick down toward the end of the witching hour, and he almost convinces himself this isn’t gonna work.

And then.

It’s like the air and the silence thicken, a veil drawn between him and the rest of the world. Each breath feels a little harder, the night heat heavy on his skin and a chill somewhere beneath it. A sound reaches his ears from the edge of the water. A quiet splash, and a drag of wet fabric, and a shape resolves itself out of the darkness.

She’s like the swamp made flesh. Water-weed green and dripping from head to toe, fingers slender and reaching as cypress roots, eyes feu-follet balls of light in the mossy mass of her face.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice is a wet rattle like a dying breath, the sympathy in it startlingly out-of-place. “I could feel your pain miles away.”

Sam grits his teeth and draws himself to his feet. He forces himself to look her in the eyes, but there’s a wrongness about the light that burns there that makes it an effort, keeps making him want to lower his gaze. “Can you help him?” he demands. “Bring him back?”

“Help him?” says that voice. “Or help you?” Her hand comes to rest over his heart, skinny fingers splayed, and he tries not to flinch. “He isn’t the one suffering.”

His throat feels tight. “Does it matter?”

A sludgy croak of a sound. It takes Sam a moment to realise it’s her laugh. “Maybe not.” She regards him steadily. “But you’ve survived worse than this. You’d survive it again.”

It’s the kind of statement that ought to be encouraging, but the way she says it, it’s perfectly neutral, like she’s observing that there’s rain on the way, or it’s Tuesday.

The thing is, she’s right. Sam knows she is. He pulled himself back together, piece by painful piece, after Riley died. He learned to fly solo. He rebuilt his life after the Blip and talked himself around to trusting his own judgement after Steve waltzed off to the past. Now, he’s gotten used to having Bucky at his side, in his life, watching his six in the field and teasing him over dinner, but he could learn to live without it. Fly a little more carefully, trust Torres to have his back, spend more time with Sarah and the boys and the neighbours to fill the silence. He’d be almost whole again, eventually.

But godfuckingdammit, he is sick of being strong.

“Didn’t come out here for daily affirmations,” he says. “Can you help me or not?”

She inclines her head. “You can’t claim I talked you into this.”

“So you’ll do it?” He takes a deep breath. “What’s your price?”

She shrugs, trailing a hand down his arm and crouching to dig into the ground where he buried his photograph. It’s damp and dirt-stained when she unearths it, but she smiles anyway. “You’ll owe me. That’s all.”

“Owe you what?” But even as he asks, he knows the answer doesn’t matter. He’ll promise anything if it means a do-over, a chance to get it right this time, say all the things he should’ve said to Riley way back when, the things he should’ve said to Bucky months ago.

“I’ll know when I need it.” She tucks Sam’s photograph away somewhere in the folds of her garment. “Seal it with a kiss.”

Her mouth tastes like swamp water, brackish and bitter. Sam swallows down bile. And at the same time, he feels a creeping sensation like the water itself wrapping around him, twining roots around his heart, pulling him under like a gator’s death roll. He fights for breath, lungs filling up with it, tears springing to his eyes, darkness crowding his vision.

As abruptly as it crept up on him, it’s gone. He sucks in a huge breath, bending over, hands on his thighs, and when he comes back to himself, she’s gone.

#

By the time he gets back to town, he has three missed calls. One from the hospital, one from Rhodes, and one from–

His heart leaps in his chest. He’s on a plane to DC within the hour.

At the specialist treatment facility, nobody stops him to ask for ID or what he’s doing here. He finds Bucky sitting up in bed, drinking orange juice through a straw and looking bitchy about it. His face lights up like Christmas when Sam walks in, that wide unashamed smile, and Sam aches with realising how much he’s missed it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says.

Bucky shakes his head. “Rhodes told me the docs thought I was a goner,” he says. “Sent you home to plan my funeral. Don’t know that I could’ve stood being here, either.”

Sam exhales dizzily. “Yeah, well. Shoulda known better with your stubborn old ass. What’d you do, annoy the shit out of the Grim Reaper until he got sick of you?”

“Something like that. Guess I gotta thank that shitty knock-off serum for something, huh.” There’s an edge to his voice, like always when this stuff comes up, and Sam gets it, he does. Owing your life to something you hate is complicated.

He tries not to think about how much more complicated it would be if Bucky knew the truth.

“Hey,” he says instead, “don’t think you get to make a habit of this.” He tries to sound stern, but the tears pricking at his eyes make it hard. “Three days sitting on the crappy plastic chairs they got in here, I thought my ass was gonna fall off.”

Bucky smiles up at him, crooked, a little looser. “Now that’d be a real tragedy.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat, heartbeat skittering. But shit, if he’s in the hole to some creepy-ass swamp goddess for who knows what kind of favour, or maybe his immortal soul, he’s damn well gonna make it count.

So he ignores the plastic chair and perches on the edge of the mattress, close enough to smell antiseptic and orange juice and feel Bucky’s warmth through his hospital gown.

(Roots wrapped around his heart, foul water on the back of his tongue, shapes moving in the depths.)

San leans in, telegraphing his intent, Bucky’s eyes fastened on his mouth. Presses their lips together, soft.

“About damn time.” Bucky sighs into the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s; and after a moment, Sam tastes only oranges.

[thathopelessromantic]

Reckless Good (4/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+ (some implied mature themes)

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Thank you all again for being so wonderful <3 And I hope you all can enjoy the extra momojirou content in this chapter

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (x) Chapter Two: (x) Chapter Three: (x)

Friday morning does not bring Shouto any more clarity regarding Midoriya’s email or his list. He spent most of the previous night going over the items on the list, trying to come up with answers for the questions and topics included in it, and feeling inexplicably like he was failing some kind of test. Somehow, U.A. did not prepare him for this part of heroics.

Momo gave him very severe instructions to not do anything work related, but in less than a day he grew stir crazy in his apartment with nothing to do but think about the attack from a few days ago and agonize over how little he can apparently say about his own quirk. So he leaves in the morning in his usual half-assed civilian disguise. He’s supposed to have dinner with Momo and Kyouka later that night, but he needs a distraction until then, so hopefully wasting time around town will suffice.

Shouto isn’t sure how, but his wandering brings him to the Musutafu University campus. The sprawling buildings don’t seem quite so confusing this time around, though he barely has any better idea of how to get around. He wanders the campus for a while, observing the students, there seem to be less of them than earlier in the week, and trying to make some better sense of the layout. The area grows a little more familiar as he reaches the building where he met with Midoriya. He didn’t check the schedule the professor gave him before venturing this way, but it’s roughly the same time they met before so he takes a risk and heads up to his office.

The building is quieter than before, echoing the rest of campus emptying for the upcoming weekend. The bulletin board by the door is just as full, however. He takes the stairs up to the third floor to Midoriya’s office. The door, still just as chaotic, covered in posters and stickers and Shouto’s own young face staring up at him is closed and locked, the lights off inside the office. It was a slim chance that the professor would be in his office again at the same time, he supposes, but now that he’s here and Midoriya isn’t, Shouto’s at a loss for what to do or even what he’s doing there. He loiters in front of the door for a few minutes, as if by sheer will he might force it open and the professor to appear, before he wanders down the hall. A few doors down, there’s a wide office space, enclosed by large glass windows, with openings every few feet. The secretary from the other day – Ko-something. Koyama? Kobayashi? – is sitting behind one of the openings at a desk, typing rapidly at a computer.

Shouto debates with himself for a moment before he approaches the window, clearing his throat to get her attention. She turns in surprise at the sound. Her pale lavender hair is still piled high in a complicated bun at the top of her head, but she’s also wearing a pair of thin, half-moon glasses perched just so on her nose for two of her six eyes to be able to see through them.

“Entropy?” She asks, as if not sure she’s seeing him correctly. “Can I help you with something? You didn’t have another meeting with Dr. Midoriya, did you?”

Shouto almost says yes, but he remembers the disapproving look she gave Midoriya after the desk incident and figures he shouldn’t get the professor in any more trouble with his secretary by lying about some forgotten meeting or something.

“Nothing planned. I was just hoping to speak with him again if I could, but it doesn’t look like he’s in his office.”

“No, he wouldn’t be. Dr. Midoriya has a class at this time.”

That grabs his attention. “Really? Where?”

Kobayashi raises a suspicious brow at him, but Shouto will not be deterred.  Kobayashi stares at him for a few more moments before turning back to her computer. She opens a few documents, clicking through pages and charts that flash by too quickly for Shouto to make any sense of. Finding whatever it is she’s looking for, she pulls out a bright purple sticky note and writes out a building and room number for him in neat script.

“That’s where his Friday lecture is. There’s just under an hour left.”

“Thank you.” Shouto takes the sticky note appreciatively.

She waves him off, clearly unimpressed or uninterested or both. He wonders how many times heroes have come to talk to Midoriya that she’s completely unmoved by their presence at the university. Unless she just never cared about heroes at all, which would be an equally interesting pairing as a secretary for the seemingly hero-obsessed professor.

It still takes Shouto longer than he would have liked to find the building she wrote down, but the name sounds vaguely familiar so he’s pretty sure its one he’s passed in his previous wanderings, which helped. The rooms inside the building are all spaced far apart, large lecture halls rather than normal classrooms, and it feels like he has been walking through the halls for ages but only passed three or four doors before he finally finds the room she specified.

The closed door muffles sound surprisingly well, so he has to hope he’s in the right place, and that she didn’t intentionally steer him wrong, as he cracks open the door to peer in. Thankfully, the door he’s come across opens to the back of the lecture hall, so he’s mostly unnoticed as he slips in and hangs against the back wall. The room is surprisingly full for an early morning Friday lecture, and it takes him a moment to find an open seat near the back that doesn’t require him to crawl over any other students.

Midoriya is at the front of the room, his back to the room as he writes across the large white board against the wall. There are already extensive notes made in the same small frantic handwriting Shouto saw in his notebooks, while a video plays on the projector screen besides him. It takes Shouto a few minutes to realize the video is a recording of a villain fight, too distracted following the shifting muscles of the professor’s broad back as he writes across the board and trying to make out the notes without any other context, but once he’s realized what it is that’s playing Shouto finds himself equally as interested in the fight. Based on the costumes, Shouto is fairly certain the hero in the fight is Lemillion, but he’s never seen this particular fight before. He doesn’t recognize the villain he’s fighting and he has absolutely no idea where this shaky footage would have come from.

Midoriya finally turns back to face the room. His sharp green eyes scan over the room, and Shouto can feel the exact moment they land on him, picking him out of the crowd of eager faces and recognizing him as someone or something out of place. Midoriya only hesitates on him for a moment before he continues scanning the room.

“Okay, does anyone else have any observations from the fight?”

A few more hands shoot up around the room. One by one, Midoriya calls on the students, writing up their observations on the video up on the board with the other notes. Once everyone has had a chance to say their part, he steps back and takes a look at the board. There’s barely an open space for more writing as it is, but when Midoriya nods and declares it a “pretty good start” the class only laughs, rather than arguing. Shouto wants to see what Midoriya’s own observations of the fight would be.

“Now,” Midoriya pulls another white board on wheels to the middle of the room, placing it in front of the filled one. “What do we still not know? That our observations alone can’t tell us?”

The pause before people try to answer is considerably longer after his newest question. Finally, someone hesitantly raises a hand to answer. “We still don’t know what the villain’s quirk is. We’ve only seen how it works against Lemillion in this particular fight.”

Midoriya beams at the student. “Right,” He writes the answer on the board. “There’s no guarantee of what we’ve seen here is the extent of their power. We can also only assume at this point how their quirk works or what limitations they might have. What else?”

A few more hesitant hands go up. Midoriya calls on them all, writing up their suggestions as they come, elaborating on many of them as they come in. He calls a few more times for more suggestions but the replies peter out much sooner than their observations. Finally, when no one else raises a hand, Midoriay comes around to the otherwise ignored desk and leans against it to face the room properly.

“No one said anything about the hero.” He points out, calmly. Shouto is surprised that he didn’t realize this fact until it’s called out either.

“But everyone knows what the number one hero’s quirk is,” someone calls from the back. There’s a sound of agreement that goes through the room.

“Do you really?” Midoriya tilts his head to the side, considering. “He’s the permeation hero, right? His quirk is called permeation, but what else do you know about it?”

When no one jumps in with more information, Midoriya calls on someone. “Do you know how Lemillion activates his quirk? Or how he stops using it?”

The student shakes their head nervously. Midoriya smiles kindly, going back to the board and writing that under the last student observation. He calls on someone else in the room. “Is there any part of Lemillion where his quirk doesn’t work?”

The second student doesn’t have an answer either.

“The answer to that is no, actually,” Midoriya informs them. “But just from this fight, we can’t confirm that. So it’s important to note it. Lemillion has an advantage on a lot of opponents because he moves so fast, they can’t keep track of him. If there was some part of his body not affected by his quirk, that could easily be hidden by his quick movements.”

Midoriya writes it on the board too, even though he’s answered his own question. He picks someone else in the room, and it takes Shouto a moment to realize Midoriya is pointing at him.

“Do we know if there is a disadvantage or limit to his quirk that might affect this fight?”

“Any limits or disadvantages Lemillion might have to his quirk will affect every fight he has, though some situations could make those disadvantages worse, or add to his limits.” Shouto answers carefully, thinking back to his own limits and the years of Aizawa drilling it into their heads to be aware of their own limitations in a fight.

A few students turn to look at him as he talks, and he recognizes three girls in the front row from his first time on campus. They recognize him a moment later, hitting each others’ arms and whispering amongst themselves. A few others seem to catch on, but Midoriya doesn’t leave enough time for them to get distracted.

“True,” Midoriya turns back to his white board to add more notes. “Do we know any of those limitations from this fight?”

There are still a few hushed whispers going around the room, and Shouto notices a few students pull out their phones, but the discussion continues mostly the same until the class ends.

Midoriya dismisses the class a few minutes late, but still only about half the class filters out of the room immediately. The rest gather at the front of the room, surrounding their professor and peppering him with more questions about the lesson and homework and just general hero related questions, at least so far as Shouto can figure from what he overhears. Shouto stays mostly hidden in the back of the room until all the students have actually made their way out of the classroom, though a few brave students stop to say something or ask for an autograph. It’s nice to see how they flock to the professor with something almost akin to hero-worship. The three girls from earlier in the week wave goodbye to him as they leave.

Midoriya starts to clean up as Shouto comes down the stairs to join him at the front of the room.

“So what did they miss?”

Midoriya freezes, glancing up at him as if he had forgotten Shouto was still there.

“What?”

“In the analysis of the fight. What’s something they missed?”

Midoriya glances back at the projector screen where the paused video is still visible. “There’s a crack in the far corner of the room.” Shouto follows the professor’s hand to the ceiling in the video where he can see the faint lines of the concrete breaking. “It’s not structurally sound any more, so Lemillion can’t phase through it safely. But if he can shake the building enough for it actually crumble while he’s got the villain in that corner, the destruction could do some serious damage to his opponent that he could avoid by using his quirk. A lot of this fight was dragged out by the two of them trying to corner each other there, each aware of the other’s weakness.”

Shouto tries to remember what he saw of the movement of the fight and align it to what the professor is saying.

“And how many times have you analyzed this particular fight?”

Midoriya laughs. “Just once, in class today. And I watched it before to make sure there wasn’t anything too revealing about either hero or villain, or too graphic to show students, so maybe one and a half times. But I always like to show them new fights. I catch a lot, but there are always students who surprise me and catch things I haven’t thought about. I’ll go home and actually analyze it later though.”

Midoriya finishes closing down the programs and restarting the computer. He takes a picture of the notes on both of the boards before he begins to erase them. Shouto grabs an eraser to help him clear off the boards.

“I was surprised to see you here,” Midoriya says. “I didn’t realize you attended the open lectures here.”

“I don’t.” Shouto shrugs, putting down the eraser. “I was actually just hoping to talk to you again.”

“Me?” Midoriya asks, seeming genuinely surprised, as if there was anyone else around for Shouto to talk to at this moment. “What for?”

“Your lecture series,” Shouto says easily, though he doesn’t think he really had an answer to that question right up until he answered. “I got your list of topics last night.”

“Was there anything wrong with it?”

“No. There was a lot on there I hadn’t even considered. After reading that I’m not sure how much I can even tell you about my quirk.”

Midoriya laughs, though he immediately covers his mouth to smother the sound when Shouto turns to look at him. “Sorry. Entropy-”

“Todoroki.” Shouto interrupts.

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he blinks in surprise. “What?”

“Just call me Todoroki. I’m not working.”

Midoriya looks like he wants to argue with him, but after a moment he nods hesitantly. “T-Todoroki, I’m sure you know more about your quirk than you think. You’re just not used to thinking of it in those terms.”

Shouto shrugs. “Maybe.” He hands off the eraser to Midoriya and the professor cleans them both off before placing them back where they belong.

Midoriya shakes his head. “I’m sure of it. But if you would feel more comfortable talking about it some more, we can. I have to take some of this back to my office, but I’m done with classes for the day after that.”

“Should we talk over lunch?”

Midoriya almost drops the papers he’s gathering. “L-lunch?”

“Sure, it’s just after noon. Lunch.”

Midoriya recovers from whatever shock he seemed to experience, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and shoving the rest of his things in the same leather bag he had the other day. “Right. Lunchtime. Sure.”

Shouto considers the professor as they make their way out of the room and back towards his office. He’s not sure what exactly about his suggestion of lunch threw the professor off so much, and he doesn’t seem inclined to let Shouto understand either.

Midoriya’s office looks roughly the same as Shouto remembered his first time visiting, though the desk in the middle is considerably less decorated than the first one. He recognizes some of the posters however.

“You’ve started redecorating.” He observes.

“Hm?” Midoriya looks around before he follows Shouto’s gaze to the desk. The lighting is still rather dim in the office, but Shouto swears Midoriya is blushing as he turns away. “Oh yes. Well, with what I could salvage before they got rid of the old desk. I’ll have to get more though, some things were ripped and can’t really go back up. And most of the stickers were just completely lost.”

“You seem to care about this stuff,” Shouto says, looking around the room. “Why put it somewhere when there’s a risk of it being destroyed like that?”

Midoriya sighs, running a hand over the corner of the desk. “After the first time I lost some posters to an…accident,” he says the word carefully as if he expects Shouto to call him out on what happened, or suggest it was anything besides an accident. “I tried not putting them up. But it was just too empty after that. And these things are meant to be hung and admired. I’d rather get some use out of it.” He points to one of posters of an old hero Shouto recognizes but can’t remember the name of. “And some of them, like this one, are gifts from students. I want them to know I appreciate the gifts they give me.”

Midoriya turns away, putting the papers away in his filing cabinet before he goes behind the desk and grabs a few of the notebooks from the bottom shelves, tucking them away in his bag. He turns back to Shouto with an almost nervous looking smile. “So, lunch?”

 They end up at Sato’s bakery, a short subway ride away from campus in the small café area he has in the back. Shouto already had to come this way to pick up the deserts he promised to Kyouka, and Midoriya assured him he was a fan of the food. Admittedly, Shouto had never tried anything off the lunch menu they offered, but he didn’t mind following Midoriya’s suggestions.

The café is painted in the same warm yellows and pinks of the bakery up front, but the walls are decorated with more pictures of food and serene naturescapes, rather than the class pictures and signed hero posters that adorned the bakery walls for those hero fans visiting just because it is Sugarman’s business.

A waitress who greets Midoriya by name comes by to take their order, though she spends half the time at their table chatting with the professor about a visit they got last week from Chargebolt, Pinky, and Cellophane that ended in a near-stampede of fans and Sato had to close early when they sold out of everything before noon.

“At least Sato’s classmates are good for business,” Midoriya says with a laugh as the waitress finishes her story.

She rolls her eyes and waves him off, though she smiles as she does it. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. I’ll get those orders in for you guys right away.”

“You’re friends with Sato, too?” Shouto asks once they are alone again.

Midoriya wears the same deer-in-the-headlights look as when Shouto suggested lunch. “What? What do you mean ‘too’?”

“I’m fairly certain the first day we met Shinso was also coming to meet with you, you’re…very close with the hero doctor, Aizawa, and Sunspot told me after you took me to the hospital, one of Ingenium’s ‘friends’ had him escort her back to our office. That’s at least three pros.”

“I could have just been meeting with Shinso for the lecture series, same as you. Does that make us friends?”

Shout ignores the question. “There’s no way you would ask Shinso to be a part of the lecture series. You know too much about heroes to think an underground hero would participate in something so public. That also still doesn’t explain the other two. Two pro-hero friends is still more than most civilians would claim.”

Midoriya scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Well I’m not exactly a normal civilian. My work at the university and the hospital leads to me crossing paths with heroes pretty regularly. Eventually, we became friendly.”

Shouto remembers the proud disbelief of Shinso when they ran into each other the other day, and the protective way Dr. Aizawa talked about Midoriya, fielding Shouto’s questions, and thinks this picture of casual friendships of convenience he’s trying to portray is utter bullshit.

“So Sato’s the same? You just cross paths a lot?”

Midoriya looks even more embarrassed, shifting in his chair. “I guess. I don’t think we could really be considered friends, I just frequent the café and talk heroics with Sato when he’s in at the same time. We’re familiar with each other is all.”

Shouto doesn’t really believe the brush off of their relationship anymore than he did of the first three, but he lets it go for now.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Shouto trying to figure out something about the professor sitting across from him, and Midoriya looking like he would like more than anything to disappear from the café. The same waitress delivers their food, dropping off an extra pastry neither of them ordered.

“Compliments of the owner,” she says to Midoriya with a wink.

Midoriya sinks further in his chair at Shouto’s arched look.

“Can we just talk about the list?” He asks.

Mercifully, Shouto pulls out his phone to look at the list again while they eat.

Once off the topic of Midoriya’s various pro-hero friends, he starts to open up again, elaborating on the different suggestions he had for the lecture series. He listens to Shouto’s questions carefully, considering each answer he gives as if Shouto is asking for answers about the truth of the universe and not just his own damn quirk. Most of the time he answers off the cuff, but occasionally Midoriya pulls out one of his notebooks and considers something scribbled in them before giving a definitive answer. Shouto sort of wonders how he finds anything among all the hectic writing.

They talk so long the waitress brings them both another dessert and drink, and so long after that the café lunch hours eventually end. Other than the occasional customer grabbing something from the bakery and the handful of employees left, they are the only ones still in the store.

Eventually the waitress herds them out of the café into the still-open bakery lobby. Midoriya apologizes at least a half dozen times, but she only waves him off with nothing more than a fond, exasperated look. They’re left alone in the bakery, save for the cashier who sends them a knowing look as they’re booted out of the café.

“I’m sorry,” Midoriya says with a short bow. “I should have known to go somewhere with longer hours when we were talking about quirks.”

Shouto doesn’t think he’s ever had something he cared enough about so strongly that he would need to plan extra time out for it, but he’s fascinated, and inexplicably, charmed by it. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I needed to come by Sato’s anyways.” Midoriya relaxes besides him, a relieved smile passing over his features.

Shouto turns away before he stares too long, asking the cashier for the order he had called in the day before. Midoriya drifts away to look over the display case while they wait for the cashier to grab Shouto’s order from the back. She returns, opening the box so that he can confirm the order is correct.

“You didn’t strike me as having such a big sweet tooth,” Midoriya comments as she rings Shouto up.

“I don’t. It’s for Kyouka.” Shouto replies easily. He watches Midoriya’s face, can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure out who Shouto is talking about.

“Earphone Jack?” Midoriya finally guesses. “I didn’t really expect her to have such a big sweet tooth, either.”

Shouto shrugs. He had never really put much thought into it. He just knew Kyouka was almost as in love with Sato’s chocolate cake as she was with Momo. Though he doubts either of them would appreciate that comparison.

After Shouto is finished, Midoriya asks for a few things from behind the counter as well. Many of the selections have run out completely this late in the day, and a few options have only one or two items still left, but Midoriya still takes a while to make a decision, deliberating carefully over the limited selection.

He shoots Shouto another apologetic look as the cashier rings up his items. “I always get something for my mother when I visit Sato’s. She likes to try new things, but I think I’m finally running out of new options for her to try.”

Shouto nods his understanding, waving off Midoriya’s unspoken apology. He wonders if he should bring some of Sato's treats to his own mother the next time he visits. He usually brought her flowers, but she might like a small cake for a change.

The two leave the bakery and head back towards the subway. Midoriya easily fills the silence while they walk with more talk about quirks, quickly derailing his own train of thought part way through into a discussion of local heroes. Shouto gives a nod or makes a sound of acknowledgement where it seems appropriate, content to let Midoriya talk and absorb the barrage of information the professor seems to be overflowing with. He thinks it’s all going rather well until they reach the subway station entrance, and Midoriya stops in his tracks.

Shouto looks back in concern as the professor smacks himself in the forehead. His bag of pastries swings wildly for a moment, precariously close to smacking him in the face as well.

“Are you alright?”

“I just talked your ear off the entire walk, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you didn’t need to hear any of that. And what if you had more questions? I-”

“I didn’t mind,” Shouto interrupts. “Even if I didn’t ‘need’ to hear any of it. It was interesting.”

Midoriya lowers his hand and stares at him apprehensively. “You’re not just saying that just to be polite?”

“I never say things just to be polite.” Shouto says honestly.

Midoriya laughs, though Shouto isn’t sure exactly what about his statement warranted laughter, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “No, I guess you don’t seem the type to do that.”

Not sure how to reply to that, Shouto looks away. The timetable inside the station shows the next train should be arriving in a few minutes. They stand in silence for a moment before Shouto clears his throat.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” Shouto says at the exact same time Midoriya blurts out: “Would you like my phone number?”

They stare at each other for a moment, but Midoriya reacts first with a small wince. “I mean, you’re welcome. It wasn’t any trouble. Obviously I like to talk about the subject.”

“Your phone number?” Shouto asks, wondering if he somehow misheard.

Midoriya sighs. “I was just thinking it might be easier, than tracking me down in person, if you had any other questions. Or I guess it could just be easier to track me down in person again, too. If you could text or call. You don’t have to obviously, I know a hero’s personal number is important and private, for a reason. Which is why I offered just to give you mine. And if you did use it, I would never abuse-“

“How many personal numbers for pro-heroes do you know?”

Midoriya blinks in surprise a few times, startled. “I can’t tell you that. Wait, no. I mean-”

“I trust you.” Shouto pulls out his cell phone, passing it over to the still-dazed professor.

Midoriya takes it, but just stares down at the cell without moving.

“So you can put your contact information in,” Shouto reminds him carefully, as if he somehow forgot what a phone was in the midst of their conversation.

Midoriya moves again, finally, if only to give Shouto another disbelieving look. “I think you trust people too easily, Todoroki.”

“You suggested it.”

Despite appearing like he still wanted to argue the matter, Midoriya looks away from Shouto to open his phone and add his contact information. Shouto briefly worries there’s something embarrassing for him to come across as he unlocks the phone, before he remembers the last time Kyouka went through his phone and deemed it “utterly boring” while complaining about the lack of “potential blackmail material,” which he figures means it’s probably safe enough.

Midoriya returns his cell to him, just as the train begins to pull up to the station. Shouto hesitates getting on the train. He has no real reason to keep Midoriya for any longer, but he feels oddly reluctant to leave his company just yet. They stare at each other for a few moments in silence, as if waiting for the other to say something, but Shouto was never good at finding the right thing to say, and he was rapidly running out of time for Midoriya to say something if he wanted to catch this train.

“Thank you,” Midoriya finally blurts out. “For considering being a part of the Hero Talks series. Even if you ultimately decide not to join, I appreciate the consideration. And the opportunity to talk to you about your quirk.”

“Thanks for…wanting to talk about my quirk.”

Shouto steps through the subway doors. He turns just as they start to pull out of the station, and Midoriya is still standing there with a bemused smile on his face.

 X

Kyouka opens the door in leggings and a shirt Shouto is almost positive is Momo’s.

“You’re early.” She says as greeting, though it sounds more like an accusation.

Shouto holds up his package from the bakery. “I have cake.”

Appeased, she lets him into the house without any other complaint. Shouto slips off his shoes and follows her down the familiar entrance way towards the kitchen. Momo is standing over the stove stirring something. Her long hair is down for once, but she keeps brushing it out of her face with the back of her hand as she watches the pot intensely.

Shouto leans closer to Kyouka to whisper. “You’re letting her cook?”

“She wanted to try a new recipe.” Kyouka hisses back, elbowing him in the side. “Shut up.” She glances at him. “I was planning to order pizzas in like an hour.”

Shouto nods, satisfied with her answer. Kyouka rolls her eyes. Dropping the cake box on the counter, she abandons him in the doorway to join Momo at the stove. Momo jumps slightly as Kyouka touches her side, but she relaxes easily, smiling softly as Kyouka gathers her hair and pulls it back into a loose ponytail for her.

“Thank you,” Momo says quietly.

Kyouka stands on her tiptoes to kiss her cheek before she steps away. “Shouto’s here.”

“Oh!” Momo jumps again as she finally sees him in the door way. She blushes, as if embarrassed by their behavior, as if Shouto hasn’t been witness to their relationship since high school. “Shouto, hello. You’re early.”

Shouto shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood. I couldn’t keep sitting in my house.”

Momo makes a face. “I’m sorry. But it’s for your own good. You need to rest.”

“But I’m not even injured any more,” Shouto argues. “And I-”

Kyouka shoves a plate with a small slice of cake on it into his hands. “Eat this and stop arguing with her.”

Shouto doesn’t know how she moves so quick.

She goes to sit at the kitchen table with a plate of her own, a much larger slice of cake on her plate. Shouto joins her, if for nothing else to stop standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Kyouka.” Momo scolds. “Before dinner? You need to eat something with more substance.”

“I need the sugar. Get my energy back up.” Kyouka says with a sly wink as she slides the first bite into her mouth.

Momo’s blush returns with a vengeance. “Kyouka! I-”

“You should probably eat some too,” Kyouka continues with a satisfied smile. “Don’t want you to be too worn out after our pre-dinner exercise.”

“Should I leave?” Shouto asks, interrupting their not-so-subtle flirting.

“No.” Momo says at the same time Kyouka says “Yes.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, having some kind of silent conversation. Kyouka gives in first with a dramatic sigh.

“Just eat your cake, Todoroki.”

Eventually, Momo decides whatever she is making can be left unsupervised and comes to join them at the table. She did, despite her arguments, take a piece of cake for herself, though it is significantly smaller than Kyouka’s slice. They talk about work, fill Shouto in on what he’s missed recently at the agency or from their old classmates and the cases they’ve been on. It fills the time and they lose track of themselves in the conversation.

Until Shouto notices something off.

“Is something burning?”

Momo shoots out of her chair, almost knocking it over in her rush, and darts over to the stove. Kyouka follows only a moment behind. Shouto turns to watch them turn off the burner and peek into the forgotten pot. The smell of something burning gets stronger. Momo drops her head in defeat.

“Not again.”

Kyouka rubs her back comfortingly with one hand, and pulls out her phone with the other. “How’s pizza sound?”

Momo nods in reluctant agreement, but doesn’t move from her slumped position.

Shouto clears the table of their empty plates while they’re distracted. He takes them to the sink, washing them off quickly and ignoring Momo’s half-hearted protests that he doesn’t need to clean up after them.

“Pizza will be here in twenty minutes.” Kyouka declares, interrupting Momo. “Let’s go sit in the living room until then, okay? Let this place air out a little.”

Shouto takes the hint and opens the window over the sink.

Kyouka nods her thanks to him before she ushers Momo out of the kitchen. Shouto starts to follow them, before he sees the cake box still open on the counter. He stops to close it, but hesitates. It seems a little impulsive, definitely silly and unnecessary, but he snaps a quick picture of the cake before he closes up the box.

He scrolls through his, limited, contacts until he finds the new listing. Midoriya Izuku. He drafts a new message to him with the picture attached.

kyouka couldnt wait until after dinner so it was our appetizer

Shouto sends the message before he can second guess himself, and leaves the kitchen. It’s just an easy way to make sure the professor gets his number is all, since they didn’t actually exchange them. Nothing weird about it.

Kyouka and Momo have already made themselves comfortable on the couch, though they’ve left room for him on the opposite end. Just as he sits down with them, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He just barely resists the urge to grab it immediately.

“Movie?” Kyouka suggests. “Or the same show we were watching from last time?”

“We could watch an episode before the pizza gets here,” Shouto answers, though he can’t clearly remember what it even was that they watched the last time he was over. “Change it after if we want to.”

Momo agrees easily, obviously still thinking more about her cooking disaster than what they’re putting on for entertainment, so Kyouka starts up the new episode. Shouto waits for the opening to finish before he slides his phone out of his pocket, ever so discreetly. Kyouka and Momo already seem more invested in each other than him or the TV show, so he deems it safe and unlocks his phone.

There’s one new message from Midoriya.

‘Our appetizer’? I thought you didn’t have a sweet tooth.

Shouto replies right away, before he can second guess his reply or his eagerness to reply. i can indulge sometimes

A moment later Midoriya replies again, this time with an attachment. It’s a picture of one of the pastries he purchased on a small plate. He’s at a table with someone, part of their profile in the picture alongside the treat. Shouto can’t make out much except for a pink shirt and dark hair the exact same shade as Midoriya’s.

The text below it reads, Mom and I couldn’t wait either.

Shouto smiles, unbidden, before he locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket. Kyouka and Momo still seem distracted, but he forces himself to focus on the television. They’d never let it go if they caught him smiling at his phone of all things. And he has a feeling they’ll probably want a recap of what’s been happening, so he’d better have some idea of what the episode was actually about.

They get through most of the episode before the pizza gets there and then three more as they eat, giving up switching to a movie. But if Shouto’s being completely honest, not that he would be if asked, he has only a vague idea of what happened in any of the episodes. He did, however, draft three potential new texts in his head to send Midoriya later.

[silenceofthecookies]

One piece matchup for @basilisa-scorpii / @some-piece​ 

I’m 25 cis woman. Bisexual, however, I tend to lean more towards men or more “masculine” women, when it comes to physical attraction. I’m a tall gal (180cm/5’11) and on the chubby side of the scale, especially when it comes to boobs (I’m outranking OP girls, I’m afraid, rip my back xD), apple body shape, long legs. Dark, almost black, wavy hair, dark eyes, olive-ish complexion. Pierced girl here: 3 in left ear, one in right and a labret; totally planning more as well as tattoos. Rather tomboyish with a huge love for punk style, I like wearing black clothes and “break” them with something warm and vivid, like yellow or red.

ISTJ and Capricorn. Extremely introverted. Shy and reserved towards “stranger danger”, but I like people in general and I like company, as long as I’m having a safe distance and the “people time” is balanced with solitude. I have a huge tendency to be gloomy, can come across as rude and insensitive to people who don’t know me well, since I don’t really care about social boundaries, I’m sarcastic and have quite a morbid sense of humor. I am horribly hot-headed, but I do my best to tame it, so I rarely explode… But when I do, then it is indeed an explosion. Around the right people, I tend to get softer (aka the face people usually see on my blogs, doing my best to not be a bitch lmao) and more chaotic. Once I become close to someone, I am loyal to death and kind of overprotective. I’m not really affectionate and can’t express emotions well, my love language is an act of service. Biggest flaws: stubborn af, clumsy, oblivious, over-cautious, control freak, workaholic.

I love reading (sci-fi, fantasy, thriller, crime stories, magical realism, comics), travelling, history and archeology (ancient and medieval Europe), ornithology, stargazing and astrophysics, mythologies and folklore, cooking, writing, Greek history, language and culture. 

I also like: wandering around early in the morning/at night, reading on a windowsill, visiting random places in my city and around, rainy summer days and storms, birds, cloudless nights, dark chocolate, when someone plays with my hair, freedom of choice, meditating, good hot tea, hiking, sitting in water (hooot baths!), tattoos, piercing and body art, liquor, atmospheric bars with good music, good beer and good, small company.

I hate: crowd, clingy and noisy people, being told what to do and when, covering my neck and chest, being touched without asking for permission first, hot and sunny weather, losing control over situations or myself, cruelty against animals, kids and weaker people; bigotry, judgemental people, injustice, symmetrism, sterility, overly spicy food.

Any additional info you would like to share, fun facts, etc.

I’m neurodivergent (autistic and I suspect I might have ADHD in addition, though it both can go together and shares some similarities so who knows).

Used to be very sport oriented (trained basketball and for short time fencing) but because of health issues I can’t do that anymore. I do like being active whenever my mental and physical states allow me to (I just love yoga cause I can flex how flexible I am lmao)... But I need to be watched cause die hard or do nothing and I end in even worse condition, so yeah, someone with one more brain cell than me is needed around xD

I have a very high tolerance for toxic substances, such as alcohol, drugs, lots of meds… And luckily very good pain tolerance, cause most painkillers don’t work on me and whoa boy.

(No wonder I hate dentists with passion.)

I get along better with people who are straightforward and honest, even if sometimes they might tell me something I do not wish to hear. I will sniff bullshit out on a mile and if someone lies to me once, it’s over. And on top of that, I just don’t get hints, implications, allusions. Also, since I absorb emotions like a sponge, people who act too dramatically quickly overwhelm me, either it’s negative or positive emotions. 

I’d be the definition of a slowborn protagonist… Because it’d take me ages to realize someone has a crush on me and even longer to open enough to accept them lmao I’m a horrible, hopeless case.

I match you with... 

Trafalgar Law!

Bas. I kid you not. I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out if your match should’ve been Law or Zoro. Went down my list as usual, ended up with those two anyway. And here I wanted to surprise you ☹ Anyway, here’s why I picked Law:

Law is very calm, levelheaded and in general, not noisy at all. He’s a balanced person who generally won’t overwhelm you with his own feelings and emotions. He’s straightforward with his words and actions, because who has time (or energy) for beating around the bush? When Law says something, he means it. What also makes him a good match for you is that he is very calm, even in emotional situations, so he can step in before you explode.

A relationship with Law is very much drama-free. He’s a doctor, a captain and an insomniac gremlin, he doesn’t have the time nor energy for fights. You’re both adults, and problems will be handled as adults, by talking. Law won’t raise his voice unless you do so first and even then, it’ll take a while. In the rare case a fight escalates, he'll just walk away and wait for the situation to cool down.

Law is very patient with you. He’s not a person who will quickly get attached. Once he falls in love with someone, it’s unconditional. If you’re in disbelief he’ll show you through his words and actions that he’s serious. If you can’t accept it, he’ll wait until you can. He’ll give you all the time and space you need. Be prepared for some teasing about that way later in the relationship when you’re both comfortable with it though.

Law shares in your dislike of crowds, so dates will usually be something away from them, or something where you can easily get away from should it be overwhelming. Much like you, he too has times where he needs to recharge from social interactions by having some alone time, and he will never judge you or guilt you for needing some time for yourself.

Let’s not forget Law is a doctor. He understands your health, both physical and even to a degree mental, and will help you where needed, mostly by telling you not to push yourself and stopping you when you’re doing so anyway. He’s concerned about you but not in an overbearing way, trusting you to know what your limits are. Be prepared for a little nagging when you do know better but do things anyway.

Law’s love languages are quality time and acts of service, preferring to show this feelings for you through actions rather than through words or physical affection. He's happy you're not too clingy either, though that doesn't mean some affection isn't needed from time to time.

In general, Law will always respect your independence and even encourage you to do things with people beside him. He knows he's very busy and sometimes won't have enough time for you, so he wants you to have other people as well that you can enjoy yourself with. He doesn't easily get jealous either, though he is curious about your friends, wanting to meet them at least once, if only so he knows who you're talking about when you tell him about your day.

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.||19

chapter 19: the bridesmaid

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the conversations

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty, SMUT (skip the ¨** if you don’t want to read it), flashbacks in italics

word count: 6.5K

song I recommend to listen while reading:

angel eyes-abba

as long as you’re mine-Wicked

New Years Day-Taylor Swift

Falling-Harry Styles

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Desire is defined as a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen. However, in a friendship, that feeling should never go beyond a certain established point because it will all collapse. 

It’s hidden between smiles, dirty secrets and willing eyes. Keep it quiet, or it’ll go all to hell. It’s better, sometimes, to keep it hidden. No one gets hurt. Even if people pointed it out. 

Maybe they were oblivious, it probably was that. But when y/n and Tom looked back now it seemed to be more than obvious that there was something more than a clear friendship. But maybe, it should’ve stayed as one. Clearly, their friends thought the same. Or at least, they wanted to change a few things because they truly didn’t want to follow up their mess. Because those friends had been there every time they had fucked up. And this mess, they didn’t know how to control it. 

Even if neither Tom nor Y/N had ever admitted it, Haz and Liz had always been there right beside them whenever they needed them. 

“I mean she is getting too close to him, isn’t she?” Tom asked Harrison as they both stared at Y/N, they were at a party. “I mean—out of everyone why is she hanging out with Andrew Jacobs?” 

Harrison shrugged. “I—well, Andrew was kind of the one who was getting close.” 

“Yeah, but—“Tom cleared his throat as he took a sip ofthe beer in . “But, uh… it’s Andrew and she seems…” 

Harrison raised his brows. “Are you jealous, mate?”

Tom laughed, rolling his eyes. “No, I’m not, I’m just concerned about my best friend-“

“Ouch,” Haz input. 

“Girl best friend,” Tom cleared out. “I mean Andrew is not good enough for her.” 

Harrison stared at his best friend. “They’re only talking, man, don’t worry about it.” 

“Right,” Tom gulped. “Still, I’m going to save her from him.” 

“Tom,” Haz stopped him. “Why are you doing this? She’s having fun.” 

“Is she?” Tom frowned. “I mean… I know her, I wouldn’t say she’s having fun.” 

“Relax, she’s probably just listening to his jokes, he’s funny,” Haz said, “not her type, mate.” 

“And what is her type?” Tom frowned. “So far she’s only dated jerks, so—Andrew is kind of her type then.” 

“So you perfectly fit into her type too then, no need to act up,” Haz pushed. “Don’t worry, lover boy, she loves you just fine.”

“Harrison, stop.“

“I’m just messing with you,” Haz sassed, but truly he wasn’t really joking, he knew Tom was burning with jealousy even if he didn’t want to admit it. “No need to act up, Tom, you guys are meant to be.” 

“Can you stop that? We are friends, that’s it.” 

“Then why are you so jealous?” 

“Am not.” 

Harrison laughed. “Well, even if you aren’t, I’m still convinced you have nothing to worry about, y/n will probably blow him off in a bit.” 

But Harrison had been wrong, and Y/N had accepted a date with Andrew Jacobs. That day, Tom lost it. Harrison remembered how flustered Tom had been, even if he didn’t want to admit that his attitude was derived specifically from y/n’s date. 

Tom had woken up in a bad mood and had avoided talking to anyone. 

“What was that name of that girl?” Tom had finally spoken to Haz. 

“What girl?” 

“Y/N’s friend, she was hot.” 

Haz raised his brow. “I dunno who you’re talking about.” 

“Elizabeth… Lizzie,” Tom said, “I’m gonna call her, see if she wants to hang out.” 

Harrison frowned. “Lizzie?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I thought y/n had asked you not to hit on her friends,” Haz reminded him. 

Tom shrugged. “If she’s out with Andrew Jacobs then I can call up one of her friends.” 

“Oh, so…” Haz rolled his eyes. “That’s why you want to call her.” 

Tom shrugged. “No, it’s fair play, if she’s out there dating my friends then it’s only fair if I date one of her friends, too.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s not really how it works.” 

“I’m just angry, alright?” Tom sighed. “I… She didn’t speak to me at all that night, and when she did she only made fun of me, and she ignored me all night long, and then just,” Tom scoffed. 

“She was slightly drunk.” 

“I mean, I mean… She only just broke up with that other guy, Tony, gosh, and she’s already dating someone else? And I mean, I am her best friend, why does she keep ignoring me?” 

“I mean, you were kind of the reason they broke up,” Haz explained. 

“I’m not.” 

Harrison shrugged. “Why do you care that much? You do that all the time.” 

Tom clenched his jaw. “This isn’t about me.” 

“This is about y/n giving her attention to anyone else but you,” Haz pointed out. 

“That’s not true.” 

“That’s your biggest fear Tom, losing her without you ever admitting what you really feel for her,” Haz snapped. 

Tom rolled his eyes as he stormed off the room. “I don’t have feelings for her.” 

Harrison, to this day, thought that Tom had taken too much time to admit it and he wondered if things could’ve been any different had they said it earlier, or had they not said it at all. Tom always avoided anything that involved his feelings and excused himself on practicalities.

Funnily enough, Lizzie had the same feeling. Because Lizzie remembered how y/n would silently cry and ignore it, and how Lizzie knew y/n. But Lizzie never pointed it out because she knew y/n liked to remain hidden. But she knew her best friend, and she remembered how she had acted this way since they were kids. Like that time when y/n had a crush on their friend Luke, and y/n, upon her realization had told Luke that his eyes were so blue she could drown in them, but then asked her mother to change school, and when she couldn’t, she had avoided talking to Luke Miller even if he liked her back. Or how y/n, after giving her first kiss with one of her brother’s friends, ran away to Lizzie’s house and hid under Lizzie’s bed. 

Y/N ran away. That’s who she was. She never stood up for her feelings, and she never spoke them up. But y/n, y/n wrote her feelings. And she stood behind the crowd and never liked to be seen, and never wanted anyone to speak it up. She was private, she never showed off. She never liked chick flicks because y/n never liked any type of PDA, and y/n never liked the whole idea of someone yelling to the world that they loved someone. 

For y/n, it was always in the details. Y/N was someone who loved to chase, y/n liked challenges, and proving the world that they were wrong. 

That’s why when Tom had come up in her life,and it seemed that he loved to do the exact same thing she did, y/n hit the jackpot. She crushed on the guy who relied on the details but who avoided talking about his feelings, the guy who had her wrapped around his finger like a ring but didn’t care at all. Someone whom y/n should and could o run away from, but someone whom she didn’t have to, because he pushed her away when she was about to run away. It was perfect. 

But then, she fell. How could she not? Lizzie didn’t blame her. Even if at first she didn’t quite understand it, and even if Lizzie hadn’t initially noticed. But then, Lizzie heard her. 

“Y/N, oh my god, Tom texted me,” Lizzie said. They were at her place, girls night in, they were having a grown up slumber party where they could basically talk about y/n’s date. They were currently preparing margaritas as Y/N was taking a slice of pizza.  “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

“He… what?” Y/N looked up, leaving her slice on the plate. 

“Of course he did,” Hannah laughed. “The look he was giving you all night long.” 

“The… what?” Y/N pushed.

“Should I text him back?” Asked Lizzie. 

“Uh… What? What did I miss?” Y/N asked. “Is…” 

“You didn’t notice because you were up all night talking with Andrew but Tom was looking at Lizzie!” Jess explained. 

“Did he, now?” Y/N cleared her throat. “And what look did he give you?” y/n asked. 

“The kind of eyes he used to give you,” Hannah said. 

Y/N laughed. “He’s never given me any eyes.” 

“Please!” Jess yelled. “You both basically undress each other every time.” 

“We do not,” Y/N laughed. “We are friends,” she bit her lip. “But what… did you guys talk?” 

“Just a little,” Lizzie giggled. 

“Look, I… I know Tom,” Y/N sighed. “It’s a game he likes to play.” 

“Does he, now?” 

Y/N laughed as she ran to the couch and stood up there. “Please, don’t fall under the lies that are his eyes.” 

“Oh we’re getting poetic y/n, cool,” Hannah grinned as she handed y/n her glass. “Fine then, explain.” 

“Tom Holland,” y/n smirked. “One look, and you’ll be doomed. One smile and he’ll have you wrapped around his fingers, he’ll make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, didn’t he?” 

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Maybe.” 

“Angel eyes,” y/n mocked. “Please, he’s done that with thousands of them, but good thing you’re my friends because I can warn you about his poison eyes,” y/n giggled. “He’ll blink once and you’ll be tangled up in his sheets, you’ll fall for him,” y/n brought her hand to her face dramatically. “Because who wouldn’t fall with him?” She sighed. “But!” She raised her voice. “He’ll be clear, he doesn’t want anything more than a one night stand, but oh, every girl falls for it because he’s being…” 

“Honest?” Jess asked. 

“Ding ding ding! He’s honest,” Y/N laughed. “But then he’ll have your heart and break it and you’ll be alone, wondering what you did wrong, but you know it deep inside he was always honest, even if he revolved with hope, even if for a slight moment he made you believe… He was clear, he never wanted a relationship.” 

“Oh come on, y/n,” Hannah laughed as she threw a pillow at y/n. “He’s not like that, he’s nice with you.” 

“Have you ever thought about him wanting more than a friendship?” Jess wondered as y/n sat back down on the couch.

“Huh,” y/n blushed. “No, I could never like someone like him. Please, he’s a lie… And even if… I do admit I am crazy about his eyes,” she coughed. “Woah, what did you put in this?” She sighed staring at the glass, making her friends laugh. “No, no, he wears a disguise, and besides you know what I want, I…want someone to lean on, but you know, someone who lets me be free? Whom I can trust, and…” 

“Someone to hold,” Lizzie laughed. 

“And I mean, I’m not gonna lie, maybe the thought roamed around my head, but then I realized… I could never like someone that would make me feel so lonesome, you know?” Y/N explained. “I want someone whom I can settle down with.” 

“Andrew Jacobs?” 

“No, no, not him, gosh it was...awful,” Y/N laughed. “But we…I mean,” y/n sighed. “I want someone who loves me for who I am and whom I know will be there in the morning, someone who gets the details.” 

“The details?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, and…” 

“But please, we’re not telling you to date Tom, how about a friendship with benefits?” 

“y/n would fall for him,” Lizzie nodded. 

“Okay, Lizzie, and this isn’t to discourage you, but I think Tom… “ Hannah bit her lip. 

“Tom what?” 

“Please, don’t you see it? Tom is clearly attracted to you,” Jess laughed. 

“No, no, that’s in his nature, he flirts, but he won’t do anything because our friendship is more important,” y/n said as her friends gave her some looks.  “And because I don’t like him and he doens’t like me. He just likes to have toys and then throws them away when he’s bored, and I don’t wanna be a toy.” 

“But please, he seems so easy to fall in love with,” Jess grinned. 

“That’s what makes a good playboy, you never feel like you’re being played,” warned Y/N. 

Lizzie chuckled. “Maybe I can change him.” 

“Please,” y/n rolled her eyes. “You can have an affair but that’s it, and I know you Lizzie, it’s better to forget him. Otherwise there’s no getting over him.” 

“Please, y/n, maybe you won’t like him but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a taste,” Lizzie said. 

“You should listen to y/n,” Hannah warned.

But Lizzie didn’t. And she texted Tom, because she didnt. And in the next party, there she was, with Tom’s hands around her waist, and with y/n walking away. And she realized it, y/n’s eyes told her. Everything. 

And Lizzie never told y/n, but Lizzie had been the one to cut off things with Tom, he had played his part, but Lizzie had been the one to end it all.  Because she saw y/n, and she saw her best friend was foolishly in love with him. Because y/n had cried that night, and she had blamed it on school, or on her hormones but y/n was compeltely broken. 

She feared her best friend had done the one thing she said she’d never do. Lose herself completely. Falling in love with the guy who could never love her, with the guy whom she could chase. The unreachable. 

But Y/N hadn’t realized she might end up more hurt than intended. Because little by little, Tom would show even more that he loved her back, but Tom showed he was an idiot. 

And Lizzie remembered seeing y/n cry when Tom would flirt with y/n and then end up with any girl in the room, y/n was out of her head in the last months before she left to Mexico. She was completely devoted to Tom, and Lizzie had read some of y/n’s writing. 

And she had received a crying y/n that didn’t want to explain anything, just that she had opened up about her feelings and that Tom had pushed her away. And Lizzie remembered listening to y/n: 

“I wanted to wait, but… There’s nothing else I can do, I… I’m such a fool,” y/n sighed. “And now what? I’m a fucking idiot, I opened up and he pushed me aside, and I…” y/n had sighed. “And now what? I lost him, but maybe it’s the best cleanse myself, and forget him, but… There’s a part of me that thinks he wants me to, and tells me to hold on to him, but… Right now, I need to leave.” 

“y/n, he’s an asshole, he’s not able to love,” Lizzie said. “You’ve said it yourself.” 

But Lizzie had seen something on y/n that she’d never seen before, she didn’t want to be quiet. She didn’t want to run away. It was when y/n received the call to represent the BBC as a reporter in the press conference Tom would be holding. 

“You don’t have to do it,” Lizzie said. “Just tell them that you’re y/n, the one who’s involved with all of this, and you shouldn’t be there, I’m sure they have more reporters.”  

“I want to be there.” 

Lizzie sighed. “You’ll only get hurt.” 

“I know, but I just can’t believe myself,” Y/N sighed as she stood up. “I don’t know how to do this,” y/n rubbed her face.  “I love him, and I don’t know how, I don’t know what else to do. He changed my life alright, and in these past few days… It’s a completely different life, I need to change and I don’t know how to… Make him love me again,” Y/N sighed. 

“He loves you.” 

“But… I hurt him and I know, but I… Look! I had the perfect man, I truly.. Miguel was incredible alright? He was everything I asked for in a man, everything, if you picked my diary from my childhood.” 

“I know, he’d be the description,” Lizzie nodded. “I know, y/n.” 

“And I let him go because of Tom, who’s.. Definitely not the type of guy I planned on falling in love with.” 

“You can’t plan everything, y/n, especially you can’t plan whom you fall in love with,” Lizzie said. 

“And right now, I don’t know what to do, I only want to scream…. And I want to shout it to the world, hey I fucked up!” She opened up her arms and yelled. “I love him! I love you, Tom! But what the hell, right?” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s funny… isn’t it? I shouldn’t be here, this isn’t me. I’m always calm, I’m...private but right now I think I should just… do it for him? Finally speak up, maybe….”Y/N licked her lips as she walked around the room. “I love him, I love him,” she whispered to herself. “But we’ll only end up hurting each other, right? Gosh, I never thought I’d be making a fool…”Y/N plopped herself beside Lizzie and then screamed into the pillow. “But, the scariest part is… He loves me back, I… “ She sat up. “I don’t know what to do, I want to turn around and back away, because that’s my nature, I’m scared of him, but I want him, and I love him. And… gosh, I fucked it up, I… But I was scared because I’m scared he’ll wake up one day and look at someone the way he looks at me, and they’ll fall, because he’s so easy to love, you know? And I don’t want him to play with me, and I don’t want to fall for those angel eyes but… Gosh, I just need to look at them, and I need to see his smile, once more.” 

Lizzie smiled just slightly listening to her. 

“Is it weird? Is it weird I wanna risk it all even if it’s all a lie?” Y/N bit her lip. “Because I look back and think of all the good times, and I see it, we can build up to something nice from it… “y/n smiled, and Lizzie hadn’t And I know I can’t live without him. But I also remember all the bad times, and I wonder, does it have to be the same? With all the pain? But…. Gosh, I just need to see him one more time. One look, just one look and I’ll be down at his feet again.” 

“Then why don’t you see him one more time?” Lizzie asked. 

“Because then I’ll want to stay forever.” 

“And don’t you want that?” Lizzie inquired. 

“But what if he doesn’t?

There were Lizzie and Harrison, the friends tangled up in the mess. Harrison had met up with Lizzie moments after Tom had conveniently disappeared. They, along with the security, stopped the press that was clearly going after Tom and y/n. Neither of them knew what the hell they were going through. 

“Can I… May I know what the hell was that?” 

“She still works for the BBC, remember?” Lizzie said. “I—didn’t know she’d be doing that!” 

Haz sighed. “I—I just never expected y/n to do something like that.” 

“You think I did? I thought she was going to look up for him after this,  not blurt it all out, “ Lizzie sighed, “where did they go?” 

Harrison shook his head. “I don’t know, I just need them for god's sake to talk this shit out.” 

“They better,” Lizzie agreed. “I don’t want to… I mean I’m here to support her but I can’t keep up tangled in this drama, not if they don’t talk it out, I mean it’s been 5 years now? And they keep on pushing away their feelings and avoiding it.” 

“Yeah, right, they’re probably going to… talk it out.” 

But they weren’t. Tom and y/n were excellent at avoiding their feelings and they were even better at avoiding to speak. 

Just after blurting all that out, y/n had rushed out of the Lancaster room and into the Lobby, she was nervous and she, of course, did what she did best, she ran away, but to her luck, Tom had rushed after her. And to their luck, yes Haz and Liz had been again saving their asses. 

“Y/N,” Tom yelled. “Y/N.” 

Y/N stopped mid alley and turned to him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Tom ran out of breath just as he stared at her. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” Tom smiled. “Uh… that was…” 

“Stupid, yes I know, I probably ruined your career, and I know… I’m sorry I’ll just-” 

But she couldn’t finish her sentence, because Tom had cupped her face and kissed her, with his other hand pulling her close to him. She melted into his touch, their sweet kiss was nothing but a way of telling each other that they could work this out. She closed her eyes and kissed him back but then quickly pulled away. 

“Tom, Tom, we should…. Talk,” Y/N said but Tom had kept kissing her cheek. “Or we can... “ He looked into her eyes. “We can… do that later.” 

Tom rushed to the lobby Tom had rushed to book a room. Tom was sweating. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked. 

“We...we need some privacy and we certainly won’t get it elsewhere,” Tom explained. His hand was on her waist. And y/n feared. Y/N was shaking, too as she looked into the hotel, as she expected a tumult running for them, they were the prey, and they were hunting for them. Tom was solving it, but y/n felt naked, as if the hunters would come for her. The wolves were waiting for her, to eat her. 

And y/n wanted to do what she did best, disappear, but Tom was willing to disappear with her. Maybe he’d felt it, too. Maybe he feared it, too. He took her hand in his. 

He licked his lips nervously. 

“And please, if anyone asks, I took a cab,” Tom begged the receptionist as he then rushed into the elevator, pulling y/n with him. 

He was sweating. 

“How did you—“

“They called me,” she showed him her credentials. 

“Right… you’re a reporter,” Tom licked his lips, and then realized he was still holding her hand. He let her go. 

Y/N looked down at their hands and nervously stared at the elevator, “you didn’t press—“

“Ah right, right,” Tom gulped as he pressed the button for their floor. Maybe this was stupid. 

“I meant everything I said,” y/n whispered. 

Tom glanced ar her and took a deep breath. “So did I.” 

Y/N bit her lips. 

“Were you going to—?” Tom frowned. “Run away?” 

“From them,” y/n admitted. “Not from you, never from you.” 

Tom finally turned to her. “For a moment I—“

“I did think about it,” y/n said. “I mean…if I’m honest I felt sick for a moment, I… spoke up in front of a bunch of people and admitted you—well, uh, I kind of admitted you’re the love of my life in front of them,” y/n admitted embarrassed. “I finally had to stop blending in with a crowd and I—“

Tom smiled cupping her cheek again. “Yeah, you did.” 

“But then I realized it, I don’t ever want to run away from you,” she whispered. “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Tom took a deep breath, and instead of answering her question as they should, he kissed her again. Because it felt like the right thing to do. His hands went straight to her waist. ‘His fingers are pressing against her back, their bodies merging into one. But the elevator stopped, they quickly let go off each other and stepped back. 

A man walked in staring at his phone. Tom cleared his throat as he glanced away from her. There was a tension, there was such an awkward situation going on. Both of them were angry, but alas, both of them didn’t want to waste any time. They had been in love with each other for 5 years now and only now they were both sure it was reciprocated. Of course they had to talk it out, they were both hurt but if they were honest, they didn’t want to keep their hands off each other. 

But finally, the elevator opened again and they were on their floor. They awkwardly walked their way out, and started l

Tom looked at her. “Eh…” he gulped. “I’m sorry for...kissing you back there.” 

Y/N blushed. “I didn’t mind.” 

Tom smiled, just slightly. 

“But uh, yeah, we… We need to talk, right?” Tom said. 

“Yeah, there’s… there’s a lot to talk about,” Y/N agreed. 

Tom walked to the room. “Yeah, we…” He looked her in the eyes, and he then stared at her lips. 

“Yeah, we need to talk,” Y/N whispered, but they were both significantly getting closer. 

In her heart, she knew this was absolutely the last thing she should be doing, but she leaned in anyway, closing the gap between their lips, scared he wouldn’t kiss her back, but he did and he pulled her closer, slotting his lips against hers, his fingers tracing down her back. 

He pushed her against the door, as her hands explored his hair. His mouth moved beyond her jaw, and his hands were walking down her body, holding her thighs. Sloppily, his wet lips traveled down her neck. She closed her eyes and her own hands were trailing down his back. 

He looked up at her, catching his breath. 

“Or we can leave the talking for later,” she said. 

He nodded quickly and clumsily opened the door, and as soon as he opened the door, y/n threw herself back to his arms. The kissing intensified, as his hands were now holding her whole body, he pressed her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around him. His hands held her legs. As he would try mounding their lips, she couldn’t help but smile and giggle. 

Tom had to pull away to look at her. “What?” 

 “I don’t know,” she giggled. “This is—different.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” Tom reminded her.

Y/N blushed. “I know but…” she grinned as he kissed her again. 

“No, I—I get it,” he chuckled against the kiss. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

She laughed as he pushed her into the bed, Tom laughed too. 

“What now?” Tom giggled. 

“I don’t know,” she grinned staring at him. “I’m sorry—I’m” 

*

Tom laid down beside her. They both started laughing. 

She turned to see him. “I’m sorry, I’m nervous.” 

He smiled at her as he took her hands in his, kissing her hand. And her lips went back to him. He grinned, and turned her around to place himself on top of her, she smiled against his lips as his hand traveled back down to her thighs, it felt cold against her, making her squirm. 

Y/N started to unbutton his shirt, making Tom grin, his own hands went up her shirt and cupped her breasts. He pulled his mouth back, tugging on her bottom lip, and he then pulled up her shirt slightly, his lips trailed down and landed on her collarbones as he sucked lightly, but his fingers traced down her stomach feather light causing her to shiver. 

She grinned and pushed back his shirt, leaving him bare chest. It was her turn to push him around, rolling on top of him. Tom’s eyes widened as her hands caressed down his chest and abs, her lips back on him, now her wet kisses melting Tom, making him moan against the kiss, as she felt a growing bulge underneath her. 

She ran her hands through his chest, slowly, staring at his body. 

She sat up as she took off her shirt, and Tom quickly snapped off her bra, without any hesitation. 

“How did you—“y/n chuckled. “Ah, I forgot you were experienced with—“

But he didn’t let her finish, as he pulled her back down and rolled on top of him. It seemed to be a game they were both trying to play, as if they were just trying to prove a point to each other. He started pushing down her pants and grinded against her, her own hands travelling back down to his pants as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. He helped her pushing down his pants and her own as she palmed down his boxers. He moaned as she sloppily kissed and nibbled on his earlobe. 

He then pulled back from her, to look into her eyes, he smiled. 

She grinned. “What?” 

“I’m just making sure you’re the right one,” he whispered as he walked his fingers from her thighs to her neck, brushing slightly, so lightly. 

She blushed, feeling her whole body warming up. “I love you.” And she meant it. 

“I love you, too,” and he kissed her, with her hands on his back and his slightly teasing her thighs, as they brushed against her panties, but they landed back on her waist as if he was trying to merge their bodies each time he kissed her. A hand finds its way back to knead her breasts and her own hands travel down to his back, pressing it lightly. 

He grinned as he trailed wet kisses down to her chest. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, y/n, you’re so beautiful,” he whsipered, as she giggled. 

His fingers ran over to her heat, where she squirmed, only teasing as they danced on top of the fabric. 

“Tommy,” the nickname slipped and she felt his smirk against her chest. 

“Tommy?” He looked up. “I’m sure I’ve never…” He chuckled. And y/n saw a part he’d never seen of Tom, he was shy. But he peppered with kisses all over the way to her mouth. 

And he kissed her again, as if couldn’t get enough of it, but it came to a point where they were only smiling. 

“Are you blushing?” Y/N asked him, 

He chuckled nervously, “maybe.” 

“I never imagined you would get shy,” she admitted as she caressed his face. He kissed her cheek.

“I—I am not…” 

“Even last time,” She grinned as she pushed his hair back from his face. 

“I—“He chuckled. “I don’t know, I—you bring in the softness in me and I’m not—“

She took a deep breath and pecked him, wrapping her legs around him. He grinned and continued to walk his fingers through her body, And he helped her pull down her underwear and she pulled down his boxers.

Tom reached over for his wallet and took out a condom. Y/N was about to ask about it. 

And it was different than the first time this had happened, it felt more intimate as he took her hands, and intertwined their fingers. He grinned as he was aligning with her, she wrapped her legs around him and squeezed his hand. He filled her up and she moaned but he slowly found a rhythm, it was sensual and they were connected. And it was completely satisfying. 

And different from what Tom had ever had before, it was slow, at times but y/n turned him around and quickened it up, and her movements, Tom swore were out of this world. And her hands traveled down his chest and her lips wouldn’t leave his neck. His hands would struggle to find its pace, touching her ass, rubbing her heat and kneading her breasts but his lips would try to find hers, and eventually they were holding hands again. 

And they were barely kissing, between moans and I love yous, and between giggles and smiles. And before they knew it they’d both reached their highs, and both their backs had arched and they had kissed. 

*

Tom laid down beside her, catching her breath, but he pulled her back to him, as sweat was streaming down their bodies, and she laid down on his chest, kissing it. 

He ran his hands through her hair and just watched her. 

“So, that’s one way of talking,” y/n whispered. 

Tom laughed, rubbing his face. “It’s way more fun than talking.” 

Y/n walked her fingers on his chest and then pecked his lips again. He smiled. 

“But we really need to talk,” Y/N said. 

“Hm, wouldn’t you rather do that again?” Tom suggested. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Tom.” 

“Well, what’s really to talk about?” He sighed. “Really? 

Y/N sighed, as she looked up at the ceiling. “I—well.” 

“Well?” Tom rested his head on his hand as he turned to face y/n who was currently hiding under the sheets.

“I was really hurt, Tom,” she admitted. “When you left, I mean.”

“I know, I was an idiot.” 

“Why did you leave, Tom? I spent all night telling you I loved you, and… Asking you to run away with me.” 

“That’s the thing, y/n, I didn’t want to run away,” he sighed. “I guessed I was scared, I thought I wouldn’t make you feel as happy because I looked back at all the pain we’ve gone through, all the tears, all the times I was not man enough to admit I loved you and every time I pushed you away if you showed any type of feelings.,”

“You knew then?” 

“I’m not sure, I guess I thought I was going crazy,” he continued. “I thought I was exaggerating or giving myself false hope, because everyone kept saying it, you know?” 

“What did they say?” 

“That I couldn’t love, that I… was only a playboy, and, most of the time, they were right,” he sighed. “I knew deep down that’s why you ran away to another country, because that’s who I grew out to be, you know?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Maybe I did it for the same reason you didn’t run away with me when I crashed the wedding,” he said. 

“Maybe.” 

“Why were you going to marry him?” 

Y/N shrugged. “I guess I got trapped in all the fantasy, and I knew I’d end up a sad wife, but I knew that I’d rather learn to love someone than admit that I had lost you forever, I really did think you had left for good.” 

“I think we both know why we ran away.” 

“Because we know each other,” y/n said. “It’s our biggest strength and our biggest weakness.” 

Tom nodded. “I can’t live without you, y/n.” 

“That’s scary, isn’t it? I guess that’s the reason as to why I put on the white dress.” 

“Why?” 

“I thought I’d be lonely without you, and I guess I thought that marrying Miguel would take away that loneliness.” 

Tom nodded. 

“And these days, everything went to hell,” y/n continued. “And even if right now we seem to be calm, I can’t help but think of all the tears I shed for you this week only, and how I had run out of reasons to stay.” 

“Do you have them, now?” 

“I do,” y/n looked into his eyes. “But I’m scared.” 

“I am, too,” Tom agreed. “And I feel like this is just another fantasy.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed as she cupped his face. “You fear it, don’t you?” 

He sighed. 

“I know what you’re scared of,” y/n whispered. “You’re scared I’ll run away.” 

Tom bit his lip. “And you’re scared I’ll find someone else.” 

Y/N licked her lips. “We’re scarred.” 

Tom caressed her hair. “I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t want to see you again.” 

“No, I know you did,” y/n said. “I meant it, too.” 

Tom’s eyes widened as he watched her. 

“We need some time away from each other,” y/n sighed. “I… I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t planning on seeing you again. I wanted to become strangers, but then I thought about it and I just don’t want to be someone you used to have a laugh with, you know? I don’t want to become a stranger whose laugh you could recognize anywhere.” 

“But maybe it’s for the best, isn’t it?” 

y/n’s eyes glazed. “I was hoping you’d say we didn’t have to.” 

“But we have to, don’t we?” Tom gulped. “And maybe we’ll find each other again, have a fresh start, fill in the blanks.” 

Y/N watched him. “It’s going to be hell.” 

“But maybe it’s for the best, Y/n, even before all of this, I feared you had run away from the hotel, and just minutes ago you were going to ask about the condom, because we fear who we are,” Tom said. 

“But we’ve proved each other wrong.” 

“Yeah.” 

“It seems stupid, isn’t it? After all this time and now that we both know about it we try to stop it,” y/n brushed his lips. “But we need to heal.” 

“And I know you didn’t get married to Miguel because you need to find yourself, and I need to find myself too, we need to heal our broken parts.” 

“Otherwise we’ll end up hurting each other more,” y/n stared at the ceiling. “And I know that asking you to love me right now would put us in big problems, both our reputations are...delicate.” 

Tom bit his lip. “We could keep it a secret.” 

“That wouldn’t stop us from hurting.” 

Tom took a deep breath. “We will find each other again, right?” 

“Yes, but until then, I’m going to miss you,” y/n kissed his cheek.

“I know,” Tom sighed. “I won’t be able to walk down the bakery again.” 

Y/n intertwined her legs with his. “I liked the past conversation better.” 

Tom laughed. “It was way more fun.” 

“But we knew this conversation was coming.” 

“I guess that’s why we both tried to avoid it,” Tom pointed out. 

Y/N snuggled close to him. “I hope I never lose you.” 

“You won’t.” 

“I’m just scared we won’t need each other anymore,” Y/N sighed. “But I know I’ll find my way back to you.” 

“This isn’t the end, y/n.” 

“But it does feel like it,” y/n sighed. “At least we can make this moment last as long as we desire.” 

Tom kissed her again. “Tonight, there are no limits.” 

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[whynotgio]

A Walk In The Park.

Sunlight tries to penetrate the dark recesses of my mind, good luck. Blackout curtains cover my eyelids, ear sockets, nose pits and mouth hole. Ain’t no sunshine getting in here, ever. A low growl builds from outside the door. No Homie. Another growl followed by light whimpers and scratches. Homie chill out. 

Anyway, sunlight penetrates the duct taped blackout curtains- no wait that’s not it. Sunshine tries to penetrate the dark- Bark. Damnit, Homie be quiet! The entire door frame rattles from the weight of the demon trying to get inside. Bark! Bark! 

Fuck okay Homie hold on! The door swings open and the beast is on top of me before I know it. Homie get down! Saliva and slobber shoot from his mouth and land on my face. The smell is disgusting but I can’t help but laugh. Alright bro that’s enough come on. He’s laughing too, but his accident prone canines are getting a bit too close for comfort. It never really occurs to me how strong Homie actually is until I’m trying to get him off of me. Or whenever he sees Linda’s pomeranian. 

I wriggle out from under him and roll off the bed to start my day, unfortunately he doesn’t get the memo. He lies on his stomach still as a rock, eyeing every movement I make, just waiting for his chance to pounce. Homie...Chill out. His tail starts wagging against the wall hard enough for my next door neighbor to think I were hanging up a picture frame. Shit. I’m careful not to make any sudden movements, slowly looking over to the dusty alarm clock on the computer desk. 5:09PM. Shit. The semi open journal on the naked mattress displays today's half baked attempt at poetry. 

Something scary is happening,

And it will not be ignored. 

I don’t know where or when it’ll strike 

So I’m prepared to leave at any moment. 

Knife, Rope, Water, Medicine.

These are my survival tools.

God I can’t believe I spent all day working on that. Alright Homie, my fault. I reach over to pet his head and he snaps out of defensive position to meet me halfway. Let’s get you outside before you pee the bed.  

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It feels good to be outside. The air is crisp with that east coast pre-winter breeze, where it’s cold enough to see your breath but nice enough to smoke a blunt. I like days like this, brings back memories of cutting class just to hang out behind the school. Why didn’t we ever go anywhere? Homie’s loving it too but I don’t think the weather really matters to him, he just likes being outside. Kinda like those oldheads who always sit in front of the building. I'm pretty sure those lawn chairs they sit in have been there longer than them.

Homie peed already, 3 times to be exact. Now he just has to poop. I used to hate this part, our first few walks would take hours because he couldn’t find a good place to do his business. But that was like 2 years ago, before we really got to know each other. Now I usually just go in my head and let Homie lead the way. As long as we stay away from big crowds and he gets to sniff every inch of the sidewalk, our walks go off without a hitch. Sometimes he gets fixed on a leaf or something and we have to come to a complete stop, like right now.

Looks like Homie led us right to the block I usually try to avoid. He’s got his nose inside a crumpled paper bag, most likely smelled an old churro or something, We got food at home leave that shit alone. This area really isn’t too bad but I’ve got some bad experiences here. Come on Homie let’s go. Better safe than sorry.

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Alright once we get upstairs the plan is to shower, clean the room, make something to eat and finally finish today's poem. Poetry usually flows right out of me- yeah yeah gay I know- but for some reason this one is giving me some trouble. Kind of feels like I've been working on it forever now. 

We get to the front of the building and Homie runs up to the door, waiting to be let in. I know buddy I know we’re almost there. Left pocket, empty. Right pocket, empty. Hmm.  Left back pocket, crumpled paper. Right back pocket, empty. Oh shit. Left... right… aha! hoodie pouch… empty. No no no no no fuck… Homie turns away from the door and places his two front paws on my leg, jumping up and down. Dammit! Okay sit down and take a deep breath, deep breath… okay. Homie waits silently at the door. Come here… He walks over and nuzzles his head onto my lap. I’m sorry buddy, looks like we’re locked out. 

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

We’ve been locked out before, a few times actually. Memory is pretty shitty ever since the accident so I forget alot of stuff. Looks like I don’t have my phone either. Mom should be home soon anyway, we’ve just got to kill time until 7pm. Good thing it’s nice outside today. Homie is cozied up next to me watching the leaves blow by. Must be nice to not know why you’re here, or rather not care. The gps tracker watch mom got me for christmas reads 5:42PM UNKNOWN LOCATION. Well, might as well try and finish this stupid thing.

Something scary is happening. 

I don’t know why or what,

But I know that it's real.

And I know that you can feel it too.

You try to pretend it’s not there.

You distract yourself with things 

you think you like. 

But you can never forget

Something scary is happening.

Homie lets out a few forceful exhales while nudging my shoulder.  What’s up? He walks to the apartment door and begins jumping up and down. I’m sorry buddy we have to wait...- 6:05PM- at least another hour. He drops his head and lazily walks back over to our spot against the wall. Is there anything you want to do? Homie jerks up and begins panting heavily. Yeah that’s a good idea.

It’s weird being in the park during the day, we usually come at night when it’s dark enough to not see other people. I don’t hate people or anything, I don’t even really mind them most of the time, they’re just always trying to say something. I wish we had a limit on the amount of words we could say in a day, then people would really have to think about the things that came out of their mouth. Or maybe we could have point requirements for certain words, your sentence has to meet this minimum level of excitement to use an adjective. No more amazing dinners or great times. Unless your dinner starts with a magician pulling a scarf out of a chicken, it was just dinner. And great time doesn’t even make any sense, for something to be great it has to be of ‘considerably greater quality than the average’ but there is no more or less when it comes to time, it just is. Cheesecake can be great, time is inescapable. 

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

We’re a lot further into the park now so it’s just us. I don’t  really know how we got here but the area feels familiar. There are a few yellowed packs of backwoods strewn around two big rocks, maybe I smoked here before. The area is spacious but not big enough to be noticed by someone who wasn’t looking for it. Homie seems to know exactly where we are, he’s sniffing around the outskirts of the clearing. What are you up to? He doesn’t pay me any mind, just keeps on sniffing around. I wonder what he’s looking for, probably gold. This rock looks comfortable enough Homie seems entertained for now so… 

Something scary is happening-

Damn I wish I had some weed, I wonder if Naz is up right now. Hmm that’d be pretty weird though, it’s been way too long since i’ve seen her… Whatever happened between us? Ah whatever, probably best that I don’t cop. It’s not like I would even get high, the smoke just goes right through me whenever I try. Probably because of the meds, why couldn’t they just give me a weed prescription? Or maybe even some benzos, at least then I'd be able to share with my friends. Who the fuck wants to split a prozac with the depressed guy at the party? Whatever.

The me you see? He’s just the bait.

So that when scary things happen 

I’m nowhere to be found. 

He takes the damage while I run away. 

I hide inside his mind, waiting patiently.

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

The sun is gone now and Homie is nowhere to be found. How the hell did I lose track of time like that again? Homie!! Nothing. Shit. This is not good. This is really not good. HOMIE!! Fuck, fuck, fuck okay. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He’ll show up, he always does.

The clearing does not look as welcoming as it did earlier. Slivers of moonlight try to shine through the dense treetops, illuminating randomly spaced out spots of the clearing below, the rest covered in a thick blanket of darkness. That familiarity from earlier is kicking in again, along with a heavy sense of dread. I swear I know this place.

Homie! I must be scared because I’m whispering now. Homie stop fucking around and get out here right now. There’s a rustle in the leaves to the left. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Stop fucking shaking. There it is again, a louder rustle this time, followed by a low guttural growl. You know what fuck this, whatever that thing is it’s not my dog. As I turn around to walk away an all too familiar bark echoes from the opposite direction of the rustling leaves. I knew it. Knowing that my dog isn’t the creepy thing calling me in the woods is both comforting and terrifying, so I smile quickly to myself while getting the fuck out of there. On my way out I take one last look behind me. It’s hard to make out but it’s definitely there, a slight space in the bushes from someone, or something, that pushed aside the leaves to slip through. 

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

7:15pm. Back in the main part of the park now, still haven’t found Homie but I'm glad to be away from whatever that thing was. Hoooooooommmmmiiiiieee! A bark travels from what sounds like the track and field. 

The park seemed completely empty until I got to the track. There’s a small crowd of people on the field holding candles, some have signs too. Seems like the end of a protest, or maybe the beginning of a party. Either way it’s weird for them to be here, people don’t really come to this part of the city to do things. What’s even weirder is finding Homie sitting next to the bleachers, watching the protesters from a distance. Hey you! Homie turns his head and barks when he sees me. What the hell are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me. He jumps up to lick my face while I aggressively rub his head and put his leash back on. I really should be mad right now but I’m just so happy to see you. Homie sits back down and continues watching the protesters. What do you wanna join them or something? He pays me no mind and continues to stare. I watch him watch them, then watch them, then watch him again. Weird. Alright come on let’s get home.

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

Back at the front steps now, the light is on in mom's bedroom but she doesn’t seem to be hearing the doorbell. She’s probably sleeping or something. Funny how the medicine affects us differently, her pills put her to sleep and mine keep me up all night. To be honest i’m not really looking forward to seeing mom right now, we kind of had a falling out a little while ago. It was nothing too major, I guess the doctor's office called her or something and, well long story short I haven’t been going to my sessions. We had this big old dumb argument about it and never really got to make up. That must have been, hmm… wait when did that even happen? It’s a small apartment but we’re somehow able to go weeks without so much as a goodmorning together. Well, here goes nothing. Ma!! No response. MAAAA!! Nothing. Homie patiently waits next to my leg while I scream at the second story window. Well don’t you wanna go home too? Bark or something. He cocks his head to the side and stares at me but offers no help. Whatever. Her window looks open enough for a stone to pass through so I start looking for ammo. I’ve got 4 or 5 nice rocks ready to launch when the light in her window shuts off. 

Homie’s ears perk up, as she comes down the stairs. I drop my window tappers and peek through the glass of the front door. There she is, dressed in grey jeans, a thick sweater and one of her signature funky hats. For as long as I can remember my mother has been wearing hats; fedora, kangol cap, big straw beach hat, new era 51, silk head scarf, the list goes on and on but, if it can be worn on your head best believe she has one in her closet. I never really understood why she insisted on wearing hats, she has such long beautiful red hair. I asked her about it once and she teared up and said, “being beautiful isn’t always a nice thing”, after that I dropped it. 

She’s walking towards the front door and does not look happy to see me. She actually looks really fucking sad. Ah shit here we go, Hey ma i’m- She opens the door and walks right past without saying a word. Seriously? Ma! Nothing. MA! She continues speed walking down the block and disappears around the corner without even looking back. Homie starts to follow her but I yank him back to catch the door before it closes. Not now Homie, mom’s not too happy with us. 

We’re inside the apartment now, God it feels good to be home.

Here you go Homie, you get a big bowl of nasty dog food and 3 meaty treats for being such a trooper today. He ignores the food and slowly walks away. What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry? He makes his way to my room, scratching the door until I open it for him. 

It’s the same as I left it earlier today, semi packed boxes strewn around, a naked mattress propped up against the wall with an empty computer desk sitting across from it. Homie silently watches me move around the room. Why do I feel like you’re trying to tell me something? He exhales forcefully out his nostrils and plops himself down next to the mattress. Alright weirdo you can stay right there, i’m gonna take a shower. He doesn’t even look at me. Okay clothes, clothes, clothes. Ah! There's a box labeled ‘ISAAC CLOTHES’ in the corner of the room, it’s duct taped and covered with a thin layer of dust. That’s weird, why would I put my clothes in a box with my name on it. With that thought a blinding light bursts from one of the boxes and the floor becomes nothing. SSSAAAAAAXKKKKKK. I try to cover my ears but it’s too bright to even find my hands. The floating orb creeps closer, forcing me to scramble into the corner of the room. The closer it gets the louder it screams. SSSSSAAAAAAAAXXXKKKKKK. Bright rays pierce my eyelids and fill my skull with burning light. The screeching stops and the pain is gone. There is nothing left, only light. What was once me is almost gone, I think this is the end.

You know what… 

                                                                                       this isn’t too bad.

A monstrous bark rips a hole through the light and returns me to the world of shadows. The walls fold back together and the ground returns beneath my feet. Homie stands in front of me barking at the orb as it fades away. The light is much dimmer now, but I can still feel it’s otherworldly density pulling me into its orbit. It shrieks one last time, this time in a low whisper. ISSSAAACCC… And with that the light fades away completely.

Deep breath. Homie stands guard, staring at the corner of the room the orb faded into. Homie are you okay? He snaps out of his trance and slams into my chest, knocking me back to the floor I worked so hard to get up from. Bro… His ears perk up and he waits patiently for me to stand up. What was all that? Homie says nothing, but his eyes hold secrets. Why do I get the feeling you know exactly what’s going on right now? Homie barks loudly. You do don’t you! Homie barks again and sprints out of the room.. Something tells me we won’t be back for a while. I turn off the lights and take one last look around before shutting the bedroom door, it’s funny how your whole life can be packed away into a few boxes. Homie barks again but it sounds like he’s outside. I race down the building stairs and find him waiting for me at the entrance. How did you get out here? He says nothing and takes off in the same direction mom went. 

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

After about 15 blocks of trying to keep up with Homie we finally stop at the park entrance. What are we doing back here? He sniffs the ground and heads further into the park. Homie, be honest with me… can you talk? He continues to sniff and walk away. Damn, some verbal answers would be real nice right about now. 

Homie leads us right back to the track and field. The small group from earlier has formed into a very large crowd and they have a small wooden stage built now. Most of them are holding up signs and candles. There are a few people on the stage, it looks like two teenagers setting up a microphone. Homie’s trying to get me closer to the group by biting and pulling at my pants leg but something is holding me back. 

Everything begins to blur together and the lights from the candles start to expand and streak across the field. Oh no, it’s happening again. The lights are getting closer but Homie isn’t scaring them away this time. Homie please, please do something. 

A loud attention grabbing shriek blasts from the makeshift wooden stage and snaps me out of the trance. I instinctively wipe my eyes and they’re wet and warm to the touch. Blood, no… tears. I was just crying, why was I crying? Microphone feedback echoes from the staging area again and an angelic bass boosted voice clears her throat. 

“Sorry about that…”

Whatever small amount of noise the crowd was making immediately comes to a halt and every head turns towards the woman on stage. 

“Thank you Tahmid and Nazeath for putting together this wonderful event, I can not put into words how-”

The woman's voice cracks on the last word and she bows her head for a moment to regain some composure, dropping her funky hat in the process.  

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

Naz rushes over from the side of the stage to pick up the hat and whisper what I assume are encouraging words in my mothers ear. She continues speaking and my feet edge closer to the stage with every word.

“-Thank you, I can not put into words how lucky my son was to call you two his friends. And of course thank you to all the beautiful young souls who came out here tonight to honor his memory. I just wish he were here to see how much he was loved...”

At this point I'm close enough to the crowd to read their posters. WE MISS YOU ISAAC, REST IN PARADISE, FLY HIGH, GONE TOO SOON. What the fuck is going on? I glance over at Homie but he refuses to make eye contact.

“-It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year since Isaac was taken from us. Sometimes I swear I can still hear him typing away in his room at 3am...”

Some of the listeners in the crowd chuckle at this, some silently cry.

“I know a lot of you probably know my son from his blogging site, which I didn’t even know about until after he… after he passed. I wish I had known though, maybe then I could have understood the pain he was going through, maybe I could have helped.”

She chokes up a bit towards the end but after a few deep breaths she’s back to normal.

“I’ve had the luxury of going through my son's website this past year. The things he wrote, his stories were all so… tragic. Reading them hurts, it hurts because I can feel everything he was going through but I can’t do anything about it. Reading them hurt, but I would be lying if I said they haven’t helped me, and I think they helped all of you too. Zach had a way with words that made you feel understood, like you weren’t alone… So that’s why it brings me so much joy to see you all here tonight, because I know Issac’s words have touched you too.``

A solemn round of applause for the grief stricken mother, I think I'm going to throw up. I look at Homie for help but he’s gone. Panic starts to rise in my chest but it doesn’t stay for long, I know exactly where he’s going next.

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

I arrive at the clearing in the woods from earlier and find Homie waiting for me. The small gap in the bushes is still there. I look at Homie hoping he will take the first step, but he just waits by my side patiently. Are you ready? He stands up on all fours and barks. Well, here goes everything. 

The trail takes us about 10 minutes to get through and ends in another clearing, this one hugging the side of a river. It must have been a secret fishing spot or something, there are some scattered beer cans but otherwise the area looks completely untouched. Homie lays down on his stomach while I investigate the open area. I try to kick an empty beer can into the river but my foot goes right through it, that’s crazy. So how long have I been dead then? Homie stares at me and says nothing. No, no… Has it really been a whole year? He cocks his head to the side and stares blankly. I really wish you could speak right about now, some answers would be nice. I sit down on the river edge and stare out across the water. There’s an old abandoned tire factory on the other side of this river, and to the left a small bridge people usually throw their trash over.

So, one year ago today… Homie walks over to me and offers me his head to rub while I think out loud.

...One year ago today I woke up, brushed my teeth, and decided to walk into the Bronx river. Homie says nothing.

So that poem i’ve been working on, that’s the last thing I wrote huh? I flip to the end of my journal and see a page has been ripped out. Wait, left… right… there it is in my back left pocket. I smooth out the crumpled up paper and begin to read.

Something scary is happening. 

I don’t know why or what,

But I know that it's real.

And I know that you can feel it too.

You try to pretend it’s not there.

You distract yourself with things 

you think you like. 

But you can never forget

Something scary is happening,

I don’t know where or when it’ll strike 

So I’m prepared to leave at any moment. 

Knife, Rope, Water, Medicine.

These are my survival tools.

And the me you see? He’s just the bait.

So that when scary things happen 

I’m nowhere to be found. 

He takes the damage while I run away. 

I hide inside his mind, waiting patiently.

Now this method has worked for years,

And with it I've survived many scary things. 

But for some reason lately, 

I feel the scary creeping in. 

Luckily there’s a void in him,

Which will keep me safe from everything.

The only catch, absolute darkness.

A small price to pay for safety from everything.

Blackout curtains cover my eyelids,

ear sockets, nose pits and mouth hole. 

Ain’t no sunshine getting in here, ever.

Guess that’s why it’s been taking so long to finish, I didn’t want to get to the ending. IIISSAAACCC. The voice calls out to me from the water. Streaks of silver and grey light from all corners of the river swim towards one spot and a bright bluish orb rises out of its place. The floating orb of light edges closer to us but I feel no fear. I look over at Homie, he doesn’t look scared either.

IIISSAAACCC… Are you ready? 

Warm tears stream down my face as I feel the orb pull me into its orbit, deep breaths. 

What if I don’t want to go? What if it was all just a big misunderstanding, can I take it back? 

The orb stops in its path and dims it’s light enough for me to stop squinting. 

You made your decision long ago. There is no back or forward Isaac, only now. 

He’s right, or she, I guess pronouns don’t really matter to ethereal spheres of light. I give Homie a big hug and rub his back for the last time. 

You are the best boy. Thank you for everything.

He licks my face and begins to whimper. Fuck this is hard.

I need you to stay here okay? You got to keep mom safe. You’re not my guard dog anymore, you’re hers. I love you.

I turn around and walk towards the floating ball of light in the middle of the river. It kind of looks like a moon now, which I guess is more comforting than walking into the sun. Last time I did this I only made it 4 steps before falling through the surface, now I'm almost halfway across the river and the ice hasn’t even made a sound. I turn around for one last view and see Homie sitting right in front of me. Homie what are you doing! He cocks his head to the side and stares at me with his tongue hanging out. Ice shoots up my spine as I realise, The light isn’t only here for me… Homie walks past me and towards the floating orb. Dammit Homie! Why did you go in the water! I told you to stay! I told you to stay! Homie bows his head and lets out a whimper. IISSAAACCC… It is time. The tears are really coming out now. Fucking dog. 

I grab Homie by the ears and stare deep into his eyes. Hey, I’m sorry, you’re not the one I'm mad at. You were just looking out for me, like you always do. He licks my face and barks happily. Alright, deep breaths, let's do this. I’m ready. The orb begins to change from it’s comforting bluish hue to a bright waxy yellow. The light grows stronger and brighter until all I can see is white. My body has melted away and I can feel my consciousness slipping, I guess this is the end. 

Hey Homie are you there?

                                                                                      Por supuesto hermano.

[hecrowned]

           𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑   𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘  :

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟏.  :   THE OUTSIDE.

NAME  :    benjamin   florian   châtillon EYE   COLOUR  :   a   transformative   hazel. clusters   of   brown   collide   with   bright   green,   each   one   appearing   to   be   the   majority   depending   on   lighting.   emerald   gems   fused   with   coffee   hues,   speckles   of   opaque   clouds   scattered   throughout.   in   the   sunlight   they   shine   of   evergreen   trees,   bright   and   beautiful   yet   deep   and   captivating.   in   the   dark,   they   drip   of   honey   and   earthy   hues.  HAIR   STYLE   /   COLOUR  :    born   with   bright   blonde   locks,   many   would   joke   that   it   was   as   if   he   had   been   touched   by   the   sun.   beginning   just   shy   of   platinum,   ben’s   locks   naturally   darkened   as   the   years   progressed,   settling   into   a   soft   honey   for   the   majority   of   his   teenage   years.   by   the   time   he’s   been   king   for   some   time,   that   honey   has   shifted   into   a   deep   chestnut   and   later   to   a   dark   chocolate   brown. HEIGHT  :     six   foot CLOTHING   STYLE  :     elegant.   regal.   proper.   he   is   hardly   seen   in   anything   except   for   a   suit   and   ever   since   his   coronation,   he’s   largely   seen   with   the   added   accessory   of   his   crown.   he   sticks   to   blues   and   yellows   with   almost   everything   he   wears   donning   the   symbol   of   his   nation. BEST   PHYSICAL   FEATURE  :     smile

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟐.  :   THE  INSIDE

FEARS  :    magic   -   something   he   consistently   tries   to   hide   or   push   down,   confined   spaces,   his   own   anger,   failure,   disappointing   his   parents   and   the   world,   his   proclamation   backfiring,   gaston,   losing   his   friends/family,   being   viewed   as   a   monster,   being   a   monster,   public   embarrassment,   losing   all   of   his   power,   ending   up   alone

BIGGEST   PET   PEEVE  :     when   people   treat   school/education/learning   as   something   that   is   insufferable   or   boring   or   uncool,   people   who   talk   with   food   in   their   mouth,   people   who   are   needlessly   rude,   when   someone   thinks   not   trying   is   cool,   people   who   say   online   book   summaries   give   enough   to   truly   understand   a   book,   when   he   can’t   get   a   word   in,   when   someone   treats   him   like   his   kindness   equates   stupidity 

AMBITIONS   FOR   THE   FUTURE  :     he   just   wants   to   be   a   great   king   at   the   end   of   the   day.   he   wants   to   change   auradon   for   the   better   and   transform   it   into   a   place   where   everyone,   no   matter   their   background   or   heritage,   can   find   peace   and   happiness.   he   hopes   to   continue   making   changes   to   the   isle   so   that   it’s   somewhere   that   can   flourish.   he   wants   to   make   alterations   to   magic   laws   and   sidekick   rights   and   listen   to   the   people   and   grow   with   them.   he’d   like   to   fall   in   love,   a   love   that   lasts,   and   he   aches   to   remain   close   to   the   friends   that   he   already   has.   he   used   to   strive   for   perfection   but   these   days   he   thinks   he   dreams   of   simply   ending   each   day   with   a   smile   and   being   the   best   king   he   can   be.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟑.  :   THOUGHTS

FIRST   THOUGHTS   WAKING   UP  :    he   wakes   up   wondering   will   it   always   be   this   way   ?   late   nights   filled   with   fear   and   restlessness,   an   inability   to   sleep   and   failing   to   distract   his   mind.   he’s   always   groggy,   exhausted,   and   if   he   has   managed   to   sleep,   it   never   feels   like   enough.   it’s   not   long   enough   or   deep   enough.   it   weighs   him   down.   every   morning   is   filled   with   an   onslaught   of   stress   and   responsibilities   and   pressure   that’s   delivered in   a   perfect   little   package   by   his   staff   in   the   form   of   morning   tea   and   a   to-do   list. “it   will   get   easier”   lumiere   had   once   told   him,   but   it   hasn’t   yet,   he’s   just   made   it   seem   like   it   has   and   if   anyone   asks,   he   tells   them   it’s   easier   now.   it’s   not.   he   questions   if   easier   will   ever   come   or   if   tolerating   the   weight   is   the   best   he’ll   ever   do.   he’ll   turn   off   his   alarm   and   get   up   without   needing   to   hit   snooze   and   force   himself   to   shift   his   focus   to   everything   he   must   accomplish   in   a   day. WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   MOST  :      auradon.   his   work.   his   loved   ones.   there’s   not   just   one   thing   that   takes   up   the   majority   of   his   mind,   it’s   a   messy   amalgamation   of   the   things   that   are   important   to   him   and   sometimes,   the   things   that   he   most   fears.   the   words   of   proposals   fill   his   mind,   the   decisions   people   are   waiting   on   him   to   make   hover   in   his   thoughts.   he   thinks   of   the   topic   of   meetings   of   the   week   and   how   he   can   prepare   for   them.   yet   the   sound   of   a   loved   one   laughing   at   a   joke   he’s   told   will   play   on   repeat   in   his   head   and   he’ll   see   something   that   will   remind   him   of   a   friend.   he’ll   have   flashbacks   to   things   he’d   rather   not   remember   because   of   a   sight   or   a   smell.   he’s   someone   who   leads   a   very   busy   life   and   as   a   result,   he   has   a   very   busy   head. WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   BEFORE   BED  :     all   of   the   mistakes   he   made   that   day   and   how   he   can   do   better.   he   thinks   about   if   he’s   let   anyone   down   and   if   he   has,   how   he   can   make   it   up   to   them.   he   thinks   about   what   he   hasn’t   managed   to   get   through   and   he   thinks   about   everything   he’ll   need   to   get   through   the   next   day.   he   wonders   if   he’ll   be   able   to   fall   asleep   or   if   he’ll   just   sit   there,   staring   at   the   wall   until   he   finally   just   gets   up   to   do   something   in   the   time   that   he’s   wasting   by   trying.   he   wonders   if   he   does   sleep   if   he’ll   be   haunted   by   nightmares   and   if   he   is,   what   they’ll   be   about   this   time.   he   questions   if   they   will   be   so   bad   that   he’ll   wake   up,   incapable   of   falling   back   asleep. WHAT   THEY   THINK   THEIR   BEST   QUALITY   IS  :     his   kindness.   he   firmly   believes   that   it’s   his   greatest   strength   and   that   striving   to   be   good   to   others   is   one   of   the   most   important   things   a   person   can   do.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟒.  :   WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE   OR   GROUP   DATES  :     single   !   ben   has   a   very   limited   amount   of   time   with   the   person   that   he   loves   and   while   he   thinks   group   dates   are   a   lot   of   fun,   he   really   just   wants   to   spend   the   time   that   he   does   have   with   that   person.   he’s   someone   who   pours   his   everything   into   the   person   that   he   loves   and   if   he   could,   he   would   probably   spend   all   of   his   time   with   them,   but   he   can’t.   he   likes   the   emotional   intimacy   of   a   single   date,   the   opportunity   to   be   vulnerable,   and   the   ability   to   put   all   of   his   attention   on   that   one   person   that   matters   most. TO   BE   LOVED   OR   RESPECTED  :    ben,   just   ben,   aches   for   love.   to   give   love   and   to   know   how   it   feels   to   be   loved   in   return.   but   king   benjamin   requires   respect   to   be   an   efficient   king   and   a   successful   leader.   for   years   ben   wanted   to   believe   that   he   could   switch   between   the   two,   that   he   could   snap   in   and   out   of   it   and   it   would   be   fine.   but   doing   that   made   it   so   that   he   didn’t   know   who   he   was   deep   down.   it’s   taken   time   for   him   to   accept   it,   but   he’s   both.   the   part   of   him   that   is   king   and   the   part   of   him   that   wants   nothing   more   than   to   curl   up   with   a   book   are   both   equally   him.   he   can’t   have   one   without   the   other   because   he   wouldn’t   be   himself.   this   means   that   he   often   faces   a   choice:   which   part   of   him   will   he   listen   to. 

he   thinks   that   it   might   be   better   to   be   loved   in   life   because   there’s   nothing   quite   like   love   but   he   knows   that   if   he   had   to   only   choose   one,   he   would   choose   respect   because   he   has   a   duty   to   thousands   of   people   and   he   has   to   put   them   first.   he   needs   to   be   a   king   before   just   a   person   and   if   a   king   is   simply   loved   but   not   respected   then   they   will   accomplish   nothing   for   their   country,   they   will   fail   to   be   heard,   and   they   will   be   taken   advantage   of   by   councils   and   nobles   who   view   them   as   nothing   more   than   a   figurehead.   he   needs   to   help   those   who   have   no   one   and   he   wants   to   change   the   world   for   the   better,   but   he   must   command   respect   if   he   is   to   do   that.   he   thinks   that   if   him   being   respected   and   never   loved   would   mean   that   everyone   else   in   the   world   could   know   what   love   was   like,   it   would   be   a   sacrifice   that   was   well   worth   it.

BEAUTY   OR   BRAINS  :     brains.   he   cares   much   more   about   how   someone   thinks   rather   than   how   they   look.   he   wants   to   be   surrounded   by   people   he   can   have   stimulating   conversations   with   and   people   who   can   encourage   him   to   learn   more   as   well. DOGS   OR   CATS   :    dogs.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟓.  :   DO THEY…

LIE  :     he   wishes   he   didn’t   but   he   does.    he   spent   a   lot   of   his   life   presenting   himself   to   be   someone   that   he   is   largely   not.   he   lies   about   being   okay   and   he   lies   about   being   happy   and   a   lot   of   times   he   lies   to   himself   about   those   things   too.   he   portrays   himself   as   an   open   book   but   is   in   actuality   a   very   closed   off   and   private   individual,   he   hates   opening   up   and   will   almost   never   do   it,   so   he   finds   himself   lying   to   avoid   having   to   spill   his   soul   to   someone. BELIEVE   IN   THEMSELVES  :     yes.   there’s   days   that   he   doubts   himself,   of   course,   days   where   he   thinks   that   he’s   made   more   mistakes   than   anything,   days   where   it   feels   like   he   can’t   do   anything   right.   but   he   always   picks   himself   up   because �� he   knows   that   he   can   do   it,   he   has   to   do   it,   he   has   to   believe   in   himself   —   he   has   no   other   choice. BELIEVE   IN   LOVE  :     absolutely.   he   finds   love   in   everything.   he   sees   it   in   passing   smiles,   in   letters   and   notes,   in   the   way   the   flowers   bloom   in   the   spring   and   the   way   the   leaves   fall   in   autumn.   he   thinks   everyone   has   love   within   them,   that   it’s   the   core   of   all   people,   and   that   everyone   deserves   to   feel   loved   in   some   form.   he   doesn’t   think   there’s   anything   in   the   world   that   could   make   him   lose   his   belief   in   love. WANT   SOMEONE  :    of   course.   ben   has   kind   of   dreamed   of   finding   the   one   since   the   day   he   heard   stories   of   true   love.   he   wants   to   spend   his   life   with   that   someone   special   and   grow   old   with   them,   filling   a   lifetime   with   experiences   of   love   and   joy.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟔.  :   HAVE  THEY…

BEEN   ON   STAGE  :     yes,   not   only   does   he   speak   on   stage   to   enormous   crowds   fairly   often   but   he’s   done   a   few   plays   and   musicals. DONE   DRUGS  :     no   CHANGED   WHO   THEY   WERE   TO   FIT   IN  :     YES.   for   most   of   ben’s   life   he   has   put   up   a   perfect   facade   and   pretended   to   be   this   person   that   he’s   not   so   he   wouldn’t   disappoint   people   or   appear   like   he   was   going   to   fail   to   meet   their   high   expectations.   auradon   is   very   critical   and   he   has   done   everything   to   make   everyone   happy.   he’s   gotten   better   about   it   around   friends   but   he   still   is   guilty   of   it.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟕.  :   FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE   COLOURS  :     blue   and   yellow FAVOURITE   ANIMAL  :      he   really   can’t   pick   one,   he   loves   them   all  FAVOURITE   BOOK  :     his   favorite   book   literally   changes   nonstop,   he   can’t   pick   one.   he   finds   he   struggles   to   rank   books   because   they   all   offer   something   different.   he   tends   to   lean   towards   classics   and   surprisingly   enough,   seems   to   enjoy   tragedies.   in   a   weird   way,   they   inspire   him   to   learn   from   his   mistakes,   to   grow   and   to   change,   and   to   find   the   light   even   in   the   darkest   situations. FAVOURITE   GAME  :     chess.   hands   down.   but   he   really   likes   staying   active   so   anything   that’s   physical   he   tends   to   enjoy.   he’s   also   a   sucker   for   a   good   game   of   uno   or   risk,   he   takes   both   very   seriously.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟖.  :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE

I LOVE  :     love. I FEEL  :     tired. I HIDE  :     behind   a   mask.   I MISS  :     who   i   used   to   be. I WISH  :     for   all   to   find   peace   and   joy.

TAGGED     BY     :     @griimhilde TAGGING     :     anyone   who   hasn’t   been   tagged   yet   PLEASE   do   this   bc   i   want   to   read   about   ur   chara

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too: 

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post) 

A Change of Scene by SurlyCat

When Dean goes over to see his Dom on Christmas Eve, he isn't expecting Cas to play naughty Santa, and neither of them is expecting how it turns out for them.

ooooomg fuck me up with that sex to lovers thing featuring bdsm. yessssss 

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. He was in bed with a guy, sure, and technically they were snuggling, but it was Cas. The guy had absolutely no reference on what was appropriate physical contact between two dudes sharing a bed in the... normal, completely unsexy, no-funny-business, way.

cas is fallen, dean is confused (what else is new), A+ cuddling. that’s the fic. 

Boys On Film by LoversAntiquities @tragidean​ 

But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.

“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”

Dean chokes on his burger.

idk what to say, i love a good sex worker fic and here you go. @tragidean​ is always here with that first-class content. 

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) @valinde​

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy.

“Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

all my fellow wing hos should flock* to this fic. i also love me a good switcharoo with angel dean (and hunter cas, as this is an alternate canon universe). and dean gets all claim-y, which is also my jam. 

*this was unintentional but a pretty funny joke 

For Science! by pm_lo 

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

i believe this was the first abo fic i added to my bookmarks. story time: many, many moons ago, i kept track of my reading list. i was doing that “50 books a year” thing so it was mostly for tracking that, but i had another tab for fics, because i read few enough that i could track them. i rated things and sometimes left notes, and by all the abo ones i was like “don’t tell anyone i read this.” yes, i shamed myself for liking abo. it was a dark time in my life.

anyway, then i read this, and was like, all right i can see what’s going on here.

this is a great fic for multiple reasons, and the format is one. it’s written as dialogue-only transcripts from their experiment. it’s hard to make that kind of format work, but pm_lo ain’t fucking around. 

Just a Stranger On the Bus by Amelia_Clark 

December 31 9:32 PM When Castiel boards the bus in KC, they think it’s empty at first—but when they toss their backpack onto an aisle seat and climb in after it, there’s a muffled yelp from the dimness at the back of the bus. They turn in time to see a man in a faded Carharrt jacket, sitting up and yawning as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. The man’s hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and there’s drool on the side of his face; nonetheless, he’s ridiculously good-looking.

“Hey man,” he says. Castiel does not correct him. “This can’t be Chicago.”

the non-binary tag, just like the trans tags in general, are a house half-built and left to rot in the rain. even if that wasn’t true, this series is goddamn amazing. also there’s rimming. also there’s a line in there that said something like “they don’t dislike their body, it just never felt like theirs” and i had a lightbulb moment irt my own experience. did dean ever wear carharrt in the actual series? if not, mistakes have been made. 

Just Turn Around and Go by PorcupineGirl @porcupine-girl​

Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.

It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas.

Well, here we go, he thinks as he opens the refrigerator and digs around for sandwich supplies. First day of the rest of your life. Time to move the fuck on. As he slams his meat and mayo and pickles down on the counter, he considers adding the bottle of whiskey he knows is hiding in the cabinet, but decides that he has enough self-respect to wait 'til five. Then he'll get fucking blackout drunk. Yep. Awesome.

y’all, do i even have to say anything about this? roommates to friends to a pathetic amount of pining without saying shit to disgustingly in love. also i think i cried, but i’ve been in tears so many times in the last week, who’s to say. 

Plus One by ceeainthereforthat @ceeainthereforthat​ 

Castiel Novak might have to attend three weddings in two months, but he’s not about to let his brother play matchmaker. His family’s Internet streaming company is too important to let a relationship steal his time, but he knows exactly what to do–hire someone to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Dean Winchester has worked five-star hospitality long enough to know how to fit in with Castiel’s crowd, and this job could score him the connections to make his acting career take off. It’s a business deal, no matter how they’re drawn to each other. When the lines of their contract start to blur into real feelings, can they withstand Castiel’s family and jealous fans working to split them up?

there are a lot of great fake dating stories out there, but this one takes the cake (or, at least, a slice of it). also, i cried a lot rereading this, both “ohhh god i love their love” tears and also “ohhhh god this hurts so bad” tears. 

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche) 

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

they’re both oblivious idiots in love, cas is grey-ace, dean’s a total dork, it’s all just very lovely (and frustrating in the way oblivious idiots can be!!!). 

PS - annie d is writing marvel fic lately and i’m sure it’s fantastic if you’re into that kind of thing. 

Support Your Local Gay Beekeeper by Powerfulweak

It’s not like Dean goes on Grindr very often, just when he’s bored and alone. The blue-eyed guy's profile reads "Beekeeper, 29, 5'10, Single, I watch the bees." Dean is intrigued. He has to send a message.

this is a series that starts with some great phone sex and then goes on to very, very awkward sex injuries. a goddamn cringefest that had me in complete horror imagining it. but it’s fun! they persevere! people so rarely write about Sex Going Wrong and i love @powerfulweak​ for taking the bullet for us on that one. 

Take Me Home Tonight by Persephoneshadow @persephoneshadow​

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?” “Well, you, ideally.” Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!” ---- Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

your classic denialist “i’ll be your wingman” turning to “actually imagining someone else touching you makes me want to punch someone.” which is dumb, because cas actually wanted dean all along. 

Words with Friends by betts

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood.

Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak."

***

Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

look i think you’re always in good hands with @bettsfic​. but this one has some good sexting and phone sex right at the start, which i’m totally into, and then it gets even better. cas is a lil bossy, by which i meant to say he’s the kind of bdsm geek who has equipment installed in his bedroom for sex purposes. 

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

be still my heart! a long distance/texting/phone sex thing! i want to read it again right this second. cas is such a cool nerd, dean is a brat, it’s a good time all around. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3 

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :) 

[recentanimenews]

Catarina Is Changing up the Relationship Chart in My Next Life as a Villainess Episode 2 Recap

  Welcome back to another recap post of the wonderful My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! series. Let's refresh on what happened before the new episode airs tomorrow! In the last episode, Catarina discovered who she really was and the world she now has to survive in the place of the villainess of her favorite otome game, "Fortune Lover."

Doom flags are everywhere and Catarina has to do her best to avoid all of them so she can live a longer life this time around! Unfortunately for her, she's already engaged to Geordo and Keith arrived right on schedule, which follows the game's story. But it's no biggie. All she has to do is make sure things don't go sour with either relationship to avoid getting killed or exiled. Easy peasy, right? ... Right? Hmm ...

**SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 2 AHEAD**

    It's been several months since Catarina's memories from her past life came back to her, and ... she's still doing that garden thing to increase her Earth magic, huh? I'm 99 percent sure that method won't pan out for you, girl! Tragically, some of the veggies aren't growing. Geordo and Keith offer some assistance ...

  Oh my, it seems like they're both quite attached to Catarina! What does Catarina think of all this and how could their rivalry affect her as it intensifies?

    That's not it at all, Catarina! Open your EYES! How oblivious can you be?

    Being oblivious isn't the only glaring problem Catarina has. Her table manners are a total mess! She's been invited to a tea party ... how do you expect that she'll behave? I think she's just gonna gobble up all the food, after all, free food is best food, right?! Not to worry, dear reader, for Keith will be sent alongside Catarina so she doesn't misbehave. It's not a problem anymore! But wait, isn't she the older sister? What example are you setting here, Catarina?

    First impressions are important, right? Catarina managed to properly introduce herself to the folks responsible for the party. And without Keith's help, at that! We're so proud of you, Catarina! So far, so good. We also get a first glimpse of someone closer to Catarina's age.

    Mary is pretty shy compared to her sisters, who are way more outgoing. If you ask me, Mary's the cutest of them all!

    Catarina is the belle of the ball at the party. People just won't leave her alone! Between wanting to introduce themselves, trying to befriend her, and talking endlessly ... Catarina is quickly reaching her limit.

    I get it. Totally relatable!

    What's this? Everyone's too busy chatting it up and no one's eating that wonderful spread of sweets on the table. A true CRIME! I don't blame Catarina at all. I too would be hitting up all those delicious cakes on display! Hm, but wait, is this how a dignified daughter of the Claes family should act?

    Before Catarina is able to stow away the sweets to take home and gobble up later, Keith appears right on cue to remind her of her standing. She is the older sister, right? I'm beginning to wonder.

    The galaxy brain solution to this predicament? EAT ALL THE SWEETS NOW. If only Catarina's mother was here to see all of this unfold right before her very eyes!

  Of course, this comes back to bite Catarina (get it? bite?), because her stomach ain't having none of that! She makes a strategic retreat to "powder her nose." Brilliant!

    Phew, Catarina managed to save her dignity. (In more ways than one!) On her way back from ... uh ... freshening up, she encounters a gorgeous garden she hadn't seen before. Look at those beautiful flowers! The amazing fountain, too! And at the center of that garden is ...

    ... The shy and cute Mary! Why isn't she also gabbing it up like her sisters with all the other guests? Turns out events like parties with a big crowd aren't exactly her kind of thing. I'm sure many of us totally get where Mary is coming from here. 

  Of course, our Catarina thinks it's because of her villainous and evil face that Mary won't show up to the party. (That's not it at all!) She turns the conversation to the elegant garden and how skilled the gardener is to grow such beautiful flowers, only to discover it's Mary herself who tends to the garden. Amazing! 

    Catarina?! Down, girl! But she has to get the gardening deets from Mary, so she can level up her own gardening skills. She must do anything and everything to avoid those doom flags! Unfortunately for her, Mary doesn't have experience with growing veggies—but that's not enough to stop Catarina! If Mary could see the fields herself, maybe she can impart some of her gardening wisdom and tackle this problem together. Teamwork! (What's in it for Mary, though?!)

    Turns out Catarina wasn't giving her vegetable garden the right amount of nutrients to grow. They replant the veggies elsewhere to see how they do with this new insight. Thanks to Mary's help, the garden is looking healthier. Take that, doom flags!

    Catarina leaves Mary with the one line that changes her life forever, making Mary completely affectionate toward Catarina. Turns out what Mary gained was a new friend! According to Keith, Mary hasn't been having a good home life, since Mary's mom was Marquess Hunt's second wife, which the family wasn't exactly too pleased with. This caused Mary's older sisters to treat her like she's a thorn in their side (heh, thorn), verbally abusing her for most of her life. Geez, no wonder she didn't feel like hanging at the party! But thanks to Catarina, Mary now feels like she's not alone anymore. Yeah, friendship!!

  Keith also mentions that her engagement to Prince Alan is set to happen soon.

  Wait. Her engagement to Alan??

    ALERT! ALERT! A NEW DOOM FLAG HAS ARRIVED!

  Is it wise to befriend the girl who's going to marry the guy who is one of the conquerable routes in the game? Isn't that like saying "yes, I would like to have this doom flag, please"?! 

  In Alan's route, he has a huge inferiority complex toward Geordo. But when the heroine of the game appears, he softens and his relationship with his brother improves. A lovely story! Catarina barely appears in this story, so it should be okay, right? The rival for this route is Mary. So, does that mean she could either get exiled or die?

    Nope, only Catarina. What kind of cruel joke is this?! Well, Mary is a nice girl, after all. And in the game, Catarina constantly bullies the heroine. There's gotta be a way to turn this around. Let's think more on the way Alan's route is supposed to go ... Hey, wait a minute!

    Isn't this EXACTLY what Catarina said to Mary? She said Alan's line first before he even had the chance to?! How will this affect the outcome? Will Mary even fall in love with Alan now? We'll have to wait and see how this pans out.

  Things seem to be going smoothly. Does it even matter if Alan was able to comment on Mary's gardening skills?

    Mary reveals that Catarina told her she's special for her green thumb. Of course, he couldn't dare say the same thing now, could he? This couldn't cause a problem for their future relationship, could it?

    Of course, it would. Alan waltzes into the manor, demands to see Catarina and tells her to stop SEDUCING his fiancee! Apparently most of the time when he invites Mary over, she declines because she's at Catarina's place. And when Mary accepts his invitations, all she talks about is Catarina! Wow, she's totally smitten by Catarina.

    Instead of calmly talking and working things out, Catarina tells Alan he's full of it. Oh, and he's boring and has zero appeal. Real mature, Catarina! Alan takes this as a challenge and dares Catarina to a duel of her choosing! But ... what's Catarina good at again?

    Oh right, climbing trees. How could I forget? Look at her go! It's like someone pressed the Turbo button on a controller. Alan can't possibly win. He's unable to regain his dignity. And so he constantly visits Catarina to challenge her endlessly in tree climbing—and always loses. He doesn't want to give up though. He'll win no matter what!

    Of course, this had to stop at some point. Alan comes by on a day when Geordo is also there and the situation gets really tense. To ease things, Catarina offers a different challenge: a piano duel! It's probably best that way since her mother is bound to find out about the tree climbing sooner or later.

    To everyone's amazement, Catarina can hold her own in piano playing, but Alan is on a whole other level. He's exceptionally gifted at it, having everyone who's listening swooning over his beautiful music. But Alan won't take the positive attention lightly. His inferiority complex comes out in full display when Geordo compliments him. He feels as if Geordo is secretly mocking him. 

    Catarina, being the great pal that she is, chases after Alan to talk things out. Everyone has something they're good at and something they're lousy in—it's part of being human! Even the seemingly perfect Geordo has a weakness of his own.

    Snakes! Now that Catarina knows Geordo can't handle snakes she has something she can use to her advantage when things get hairy. What precious knowledge!

    But that would only work as long as Geordo thought it was a real snake and not one made out of paper. Whoops! 

    This situation is too hilarious for Alan to continue to be upset. Look at that smile! I'm sure in her own way Catarina is helping Alan come to terms with his inferiority complex.

  It seems like another doom flag was avoided, but when will the next one pop up? We'll find out tomorrow when the next episode of My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! airs! See ya next time!

What's been your favorite part of the show so far? Isn't Catarina totally relatable? Let us know in the comments!

  Catch My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! every Saturday at 10:30am PST / 1:30pm EST on Crunchyroll!

  ----

Nicole is a frequent wordsmith for Crunchyroll. Known for punching dudes in Yakuza games on her Twitch channel while professing her love for Majima. She also has a blog, Figuratively Speaking. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[sattdinsistapotatis]

SEAL TEAM- Whumptober fic

#2 Explosion and #4 Human shield

Fandom: SEAL TEAM

Whumpee: Clay Spenser (and a little Mikey)

Word count: 2234

“Clay takes Jason’s son Mikey out for lunch when a bomb goes off inside the mall, Clay saves Mikey and gets hurt in the process”

“So…what do you think?” Mikey asks with his mouth full of blueberry pancakes and Clay shoves a tissue to his face to stop it all from falling it out, “I think I’ve just found my new favorite place,” he answers happily and takes another bite. He’d been a bit worried when Jason asked him to watch Mikey for a couple of hours, especially because he’d have to fix him lunch, and Clay really didn’t want to poison Jason’s kid and burn down his kitchen. Luckily Mikey knew exactly where to go.

Mikey grabs the syrup bottle and goes to pour more onto his already dripping pancakes when someone yells loudly from somewhere outside of the diner, with a frown Clay puts his fork down and stands up to check.

There’s a woman standing in the middle of the mall right outside of the diner and she’s shouting like there’s no tomorrow, Clays about to turn around and tell Mikey that the poor woman’s probably drunk when he catches sight of something all too familiar to him in her hand and before Mikey can get a word out Clay’s throwing himself on top of him and tackling them both to the ground. Not even a second later the bomb goes off and everything around them plummets into chaos. Tables fly left and right and the sound of glass being broken surrounds them.

Something heavy lands on top of them and a stabbing pain shoots through Clay’s neck, a second later something warm travels down Clay’s front and onto Mikey’s shirt and face. They stay put for a while, in case there’s a second bomb, but when nothing happens for a while and everything around them begins to stop falling or breaking, Clay jumps into action.

“Mikey, you alright!” he asks frantically, probably way too loudly as well but he can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears and the shouts of pain from all the people around them. “Mikey!” the boy in question groans under him and manages to mumble a weak yes and Clay begins to lift himself off to check for himself. 

He finds the task difficult as it turns out that the weight on top of him is a body. He rolls to the side and as soon as the man is off of him, he rolls back to check on Mikey, “where’s all this blood coming from, Mikey?” he practically yells and Mikey, eyes blown wide and terrified, points to Clay’s neck. Immediately a hand flies up to check and he feels how the back of his neck is sticky with blood, he wipes it on his pants and smiles reassuringly at Mikey. He’ll take care of that later.

“We’re gonna be okay kid,” he assures Mikey and grabs him by the cheeks, “I need you to hold onto me, okay?” when Mikey nods he grabs him from under the armpits and lifts him off the floor and into his arms, “keep your eyes closed, okay little guy? No peeking”

 “No peeking,” the small voice says right beside his ear and Clay gives him a squeeze before he begins to maneuver around the broken chairs and tables inside the diner, and he’s extra careful not to step on any of the bodies strewn across the floor. When he walks past a dead pregnant woman he puts a hand on the back of Mikey’s neck and pushes him deeper into his neck, there’s no way he’s letting him see this. They make their way to the windows which have been blown out by the blast and Clay hauls himself through one of them and hits the grass outside.

Already he can see ambulances, firemen, and police pulling up to the scene and he begins to run straight for one of the ambulances, desperate to have them check Mikey over.

“Hey!” he yells and catches the attention of a paramedic unloading a stretcher, “hey! I need help!”  the paramedic sprints forward, his partner not far behind, and Clay lowers Mikey to the ground, “you gotta let them check that you’re okay, buddy,” he tells him in what he hopes is a comforting voice, but his heart almost breaks when he sees the tears running down Mikey’s cheeks.

“Hey, you’re okay, we’re both okay,” he shushes gently and wipes the tears away, “they gotta make sure you’re not hurt,” he explains and Mikey hiccups but nods understandingly. The paramedic puts a hand on Mikey’s shoulder and begins to steer him towards the ambulance, but not before saying, “you should let my partner check you over, sir,” but Clay waves dismissively. “I’m fine,” he answers automatically, but as he moves to follow them to the ambulance he begins to feel faint, “I’m okay,” he tries to reassure them, “just make sure that he’s-“ he trails off as an overwhelming dizzy spell takes over and the last thing he hears are the desperate calls of the paramedics, “sir! Sir, can you hear me? Sir-“

 _

A knock on the door interrupts whatever commander Shaw was about to say and every head in the room turns to the door, a woman peeks her head in, “I’m sorry to disturb you but there’s been an incident at the Dayton mall and we’re sending military personnel to aid.”

“What kind of incident?” Blackburn asks and the woman’s face turns grim, “a bomb,” she answers and Jason’s out of his seat before she’s even done, “I gotta go,” he says and commander Shaw sneers, “we have enough capable people to send for you to be able to sit this one out, we do have a meeting to fini-“

“My son is at that mall,” and without waiting for an answer he runs out the door, the only thing on his mind is the safety of his son. He pulls out his phone and pulls up Clay’s contact. He presses call and waits for the all too familiar voice to pick up but when the call goes to voicemail the pit in his stomach grows.

-Call me as soon as you get this

Just as he presses send his phone lights up with an incoming call, but it isn’t from Clay. “Is this Jason Hayes I’m speaking to?” the man on the other side of the line asks and Jason answers hastily, “I have your son here at St Marshall’s Hospital, I believe he’d like to speak with you,” there’s a rustling on the other side of the line before the small voice of his son is heard, “dad,” it’s all Jason needs and he practically collapses in relief. “Mikey! Oh god, Mikey, are you okay?”

“I-I’m okay dad, w-where are y-you?”

“I’m on my way buddy, I’ll be there soon,” he unlocks his car and practically throws himself inside, “where’s uncle Clay? Is he with you?” he’s about to curse the kid out for leaving his child alone but the next words from Mikey has him reconsidering that thought, “I-I don’t know w-where he is, h-he was really h-hurt, dad,” Jason’s foot hits the gas pedal and he speeds out of the parking lot.

He probably breaks a couple of speeding limits on his way to the hospital but all he wants to do is wrap his son in his arms and never let go, “I h-have to hang u-up dad, other’s n-need to use t-the phone.”

Jason tries to pretend the shakiness of his son’s voice isn’t breaking his heart, “okay buddy, I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” and before he has the time to say goodbye the line cuts off. Without hesitation he calls Ray.

“Hey Jase, how’s it-“

“Have you heard the news?”

There’s a pause on the other side of the line before Ray’s voice interrupts it, “no, what’s going on?”

“A bomb went off at the Dayton mall, Mikey’s at St Marshall’s hospital but he’s fine, I don’t know where Spenser is though but apparently, he’s hurt,”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, how soon can you be here?”

“Give me twenty minutes,” and with that Jason hangs up.

He pulls up to the hospital not long after and practically runs out of his car, the E.R is a mess and there are people everywhere, injured and screaming and crying and it’s not something Jason hasn’t seen before, but he’s never seen it at home. Not like this.

“Mikey!” he yells into the crowd of people who are all looking for missing loved ones, “Mikey!” he calls again and suddenly there’s a body tightly wrapped around him and hanging on for dear life, “dad!” Mikey cries and Jason’s arms close around him. “I got you, I got you,” he mumbles both to reassure Mikey but also himself, he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost him.

“Uncle Clay g-got really hurt, he p-passed out and then t-they took him a-away!” Jason closes his eyes and gives himself a moment to breathe out, of course the kid gets hurt, of course he does. “Did they say where they were taking him?” he asks calmly as to not frighten Mikey even more, “M-Marshall’s,” that’s a start, he’s somewhere in this hospital, I can work with that. But first, Mikey.

“And you? You’re okay?” only then does he take notice of the bandage on the back of Mikey’s head and the blood on the front of his shirt, “it’s not m-mine, it’s Clay’s,” Mikey mumbles as he sees his dad’s gaze on his shirt.

“And your head?” Jason chooses to ignore the large amount of blood on Mikey’s shirt, his thoughts are of no good to his terrified son, “I hit it when u-uncle Clay p-pushed me to the g-ground, but I’m a-alright,” tears begin to trail down Mikey’s cheeks again and Jason quickly wipes them away with his thumbs and soothingly caresses Mikey’s cheeks. “I’m sure he’s oka-“

“Jason!” Ray sprints through the doors followed by Naima who quickly runs up and hugs Mikey close to her, “anything new?” Jason wipes a hand across his face and sighs heavily, “Mikey’s alright, a little banged up but okay, Clay’s somewhere in the hospital but I haven’t gotten around to asking, have you called the others?” Ray nods, “yeah, they’re on their way.”

“You should take Mikey home, Jason,” Naima says and just as Jason opens his mouth she interrupts, “your son needs you right now, we’ll stay here and look for Clay,” and while Jason doesn’t want to leave the hospital without knowing that Clay’s safe he knows he needs to focus on his son first and foremost. So, he closes his mouth and nods, with a grateful look towards Naima he grabs Mikey’s hand and says, “call me as soon as you find him,” and without another word he leads him out of the chaotic E.R.

 _

The first thing Clay notices as he wakes up is that he’s cold. His chest is exposed and his blanket only reaches up to his waist, he goes to pull it up and finds that the action causes his body tense out of pain, a groan escapes his mouth and he immediately hears a chair drag across the floor and footsteps approach him. “Looks like goldilocks finally decided to grace us with his presence,” and Clay groans again, this time not out of pain but confusion, what the hell is Sonny doing here? And where exactly is here?

“You with us?” Trent too? What’d I do this time?  

“Spenser?” Jason? Oh fuck, Mikey. “M-Mikey?” his voice feels dry as the Sahara and he succumbs to a coughing fit just as the name leaves his lips. As he moves with every cough he feels as if someone’s repeatedly stabbing him in the back and whimpers out of pain, “you hurting?” Trent quickly asks and before Clay can answer he’s already pressed the button to notify the nurse.

“Mikey’s fine, he’s at home resting, mom and Emma are with him,” Jason answers and Clay doesn’t think he’s ever felt so relieved before in his entire life, but the relief is short-lived as he remembers exactly who’s kid Mikey is.

“J-Jase, I-I’m sorry-” Jason holds up a hand to stop him and Clay immediately does, “you have nothing to apologize for.”

This doesn’t make any sense to Clay, he put Jason’s kid in danger so why isn’t he angry with him? “He told me what you did, he told me you saved his life, told me you covered him with your own body, so I’ll say it again, you have nothing to apologize for,” Clay wants to argue with him, wants to tell him that if he hadn’t agree to get waffles for lunch they’d never been at the mall and they’d never gotten blown up in the first place, but the pain from his back and neck is overwhelming him and he can’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

“You got bits of everything in your back there, little brother, some table, bit of a chair, someone’s cross necklace, ironically,” ah, that explains the pain Clay thinks as he listens to Sonny’s familiar drawl, “get some rest, kid,” Jason tells him and Clay feels compelled to listen, “we’ll be here when you wake up.” The last words he hears are, “I’ll try to sneak Cerberus in,” and Clay falls asleep with a smile on his face, he’s missed that dog.

Thank you for reading!

[alo-piss-trancy]

hello! do u have any omo hcs for any mha chars? if not, that's okay :) btw some of the stuff u posted from a while back was from homestuck, just wanted to point that out ig- have a good day!!

To answer your other thing first, yeah I know hom/estuck! :D I never got super into the fandom side of it or even finished reading it unfortunately bc it's just SO LONG (I got up to some point in the middle of Act 4 or 5 I think? That was years ago though). I know the 4 kids and the first batch of trolls around their age (K/arkat and all of them) but once it gets to the older ones from that other timeline or whatever I got lost and only really know about D/irk and Ja/ke haha. I've still tried to avoid spoilers about the stuff I didn't read and the ending and such since maybe one day I'll have nothing else to read and finish it lol. The most interaction I really do with it nowadays is reading the occasional omo fic or looking at art because the piss side of that fandom was chock-full of quality content (and in some places still MAKING IT ) that I'm still working my way through.

But you didn't ask about that you asked about SUPERHEROES! SO HERE WE GO! :D

I've posted a few for certain popular chars like De/ku, Baku/gou, and Tod/oroki before (which I will reblog right after answering this in case you'd like to see those), so I'll do a few of my favourites this time!

M/ina (aka pink bae) :

* Pretty big bladder, but not a high tolerance for pain after a certain point. As soon as she feels a nagging urge she usually just goes instead of waiting. She can technically hold a lot/for a long time if need be, but it really bothers her and psyches her out.

* Drinks WAY too much soda. Not that it really affects her bladder, it's just unhealthy lol

* Very whiny and vocal when she needs to go. At first jokingly/to vent her annoyance, then if she's desperate enough it's solely to distract herself because somehow talking about it is easier than struggling in silence. Groans really exaggeratedly to show how annoyed she is.

* Super bouncy, like hopping up and down on her toes or bouncing in her seat in class/on the bus. Tugs the hem of her shirt down to cover or places her hands to the front of her bladder and presses while doubled over/bouncing on toes. You know that kind of stuff.

* Doesn't really grab her actual crotch unless dying. She'll press her knees together/grind her thighs though, or rut against the edge of her chair

* She tends to sweat/get flushed when super desperate/straining, and if she's especially nervous she might lose control of her quirk enough for her feet to slip in a light bit of acid. Usually she can keep the quirk under wraps even while bursting though.

* If she wet in public/in front of important people, she'd be pretty embarrassed and would take a few days to get over it. But if it's in front of friends she doesn't mind as much. It's still an uncomfortable experience but she can usually find a way to turn it into a joke with everyone instead of them laughing at her expense. She has a good sense of humor about it and hey, at least she finally got to pee.

* Will pretty much pee anywhere. Boy's bathroom, outdoors, a bucket, whatever. The only time she'll hesitate or refuse is if it's super gross.

* Has gone in the pool once to see if the rumor was true. Only once though.

* Probably doesn't have an omo kin/k, but is open to experimenting either way.

Toko/yami (birb boi) :

* Tiny bladder (like smaller than De/ku's). Gets squirmy shortly after a single juice box or small soda. Cannot get through drinking a large-sized drink without multiple potty breaks. Mostly sticks to water except for rare treats because caffeine goes through him so fast.

* Very self-conscious and shy because of said tiny bladder. Doesn't like looking weak or seeming baby-ish compared to his peers and def doesn't want to have to ask multiple times on long trips or classes, so he tries his best to monitor his liquid intake and sneak away when everyone is busy. This usually works out okay since he's so good at hiding out in corners/being quiet, but it's becoming harder now that he has /gasp/ friends who want to keep tabs on him or include him in stuff. He would low-key rather die than tell anyone he has to go at all, let alone if he has to go really REALLY badly. Dorm sleepovers will be hell.

* He isn't really pee-shy as far as public bathrooms go, but if he has to take an emergency pee outside or smth he has a hard time going, esp if he has someone with him trying to stand guard. Some people probably like to joke that because he's part animal he can go outside whenever he wants. That is Not The Case and it isn't funny

* Da/rk Shadow, on the other hand, gives no fucks and will try his best to force birdy to say something or blurt it out himself. Mostly at very embarrassing and inconvenient times with crowds, or hollering at everyone to wake up and move out of the way during said sleepover in the middle of the night when To/koyami is trying to sneak past the maze of sleeping bags to get to the bathroom quietly. Da/rk Shadow would be lying if he said he didn't get a bit of amusement from making birdy boi so embarrassed, but at his core he also does it because he's concerned the poor guy's gonna hurt himself testing his limits so often, and he would be even more embarrassed if he wet himself so HE'S DOING HIM A FAVOUR REALLY.

* Mostly fidgets with his legs. Lots of jiggling and partial bouncing and shifting weight from foot-to-foot. Crossed whenever he's sitting. Squeezing and rubbing thighs together, the whole she-bang. If he's alone and it gets this bad you can count on a full-blown potty dance.

* If he really has to keep up a good impression and can't afford to let anyone know, he can stop the fidgeting, but pretty much only by standing stock-still and straight and not really moving. His whole body ends up shaking from the strain though so it isn't actually that much of a cover

* If he's literally about to pee himself/knows he has to hold it for a LONG time with no other options he'll cave and hold himself really tight, but he seriously has to be on the verge of a full blown accident before he'll dare do this. Even around close friends he'd usually rather just try his best to keep his legs together and put up with the few leaks praying they don't notice.

* He leaks a LOT of tiny trickling leaks. He never loses control in one big gush, it just keeps dribbling out and he stops it for like half a minute and then it starts again, rinse and repeat each time more agonizing than the last until he finally loses full control and the rests hisses out.

* He tries to be quiet when desperate but the worse it gets the more he starts to let out little whimpers and moans, which can then devolve into incoherent rambling. By the time he's about to lose it he's basically Izu/ku levels of chatter, albeit much much quieter.

*When he does finally let go completely (whether that's in the bathroom or in his pants lol) he definitely has those fullbody pee shivers. You know the lil shudder all the way up his spine, complete with the softest little moan and his eyes slipping shut? His head feathers floof up for a second when he does it and it's adorable.

* If he wets he's going to be completely mortified. He doesn't cry (openly at least, his eyes will be watery), but he isn't as good at maintaining a stoic facade as Tod/oroki could. He's shaky and his words come off broken, he can't quite calm his breath hitching. Depending on the witness, he might try to BS an excuse to leave immediately and pretend it didn't just happen, not confronting them for several days until he's tracked down. Or he might break down enough to be unsure how to leave/end up staying to be comforted.

* probably doesn't have a ki/nk for it himself but would hold/wet for a partner. I don't care how edgy he looks he's 100% a SUB

* Da/rk Shadow would enjoy being the dom and even have birdy hold for him maybe, using his shadow powers to poke and tease at his bladder

Ts/u (froggy) :

* BIG bladder. Is that friend who never seems to have to pee no matter how long you've been hanging out. She also has a decent pain tolerance and keeps control fairly well. It takes a lot to push her into a state where she's at risk of wetting.

* Always well-hydrated. Always. Mostly water, juice, or tea, she doesn't drink soda very often. Doesn't mind it though and the caffeine doesn't seem to affect her much, but the fizzing's weird.

* She doesn't really give outward signs of desperation. She doesn't bounce around or grab herself. The most she'll do is press her thighs together, or cross legs if she's sitting. Usually she just tries to stand still and focus on keeping control, and will be less talkative. Usually she's very observant of her peers and the situations around her, so her classmates can tell something's up when she gets like this and keeps missing details or not joining conversations.

* Still appears pretty calm, even when bursting. You'd have to know her very well to tell that she's nervous.

* Not shy at all about asking/leaving to go when needed, unless it's an extremely formal or serious situation. Even so, if genuinely close to wetting she'd excuse herself or find a way to take care of it.

* If desperate during an actual hero mission, she would intentionally wet herself as soon as the need started affecting her performance. Pride isn't worth making errors and putting others' lives at risk, and taking time to find a hiding place/get out of her costume wouldn't be an option.

* No problem going outside or in odd receptacles, even around friends. She's not going to go out in the open, but has no problem going while someone keeps watch or asking for a bottle during a long bus ride.

* Pretty chill about going in water, but still has standards. In the shower/further out in the ocean where it doesn't affect people? Perfectly fine. In the pool or a closed lake where people are hanging out? That just makes you a jerk. River? Depends on whether it's a super clean stream or already gross, and where it leads to.

* No omo ki/nk to speak of. Pretty confused about it, but perfectly chill with giving it a try if someone asks.

Kyo/ka (earphone girl) :

* Average bladder. High pain tolerance. Can hold for a while longer if necessary, but she'll struggle/wet eventually.

* Not shy at all about leaving/asking, barring special circumstances. Not a fan about going in weird places/outdoors, but will if she has to. She'll gripe about it though.

* Doesn't get nervous so much as frustrated when desperate. She's the type to bang on the door to snap at someone to hurry up, or yell at the bus driver to pull over before she soaks their seat. Her squirming is mainly just leg crossing or jiggling when seated, foot tapping when standing. Lots of sighing/growling and grumbling to take her mind off of it.

* If she's genuinely close to losing control though or in one of those special circumstances, she won't be nearly as frustrated. Instead she gets unusually shy and quiet, withdrawing to the corner and trying to stay unnoticed while she squirms and whines under her breath.

* Will only grab herself once she's on the verge of losing it. This is when she gets truly nervous and starts to panic.

* Wetting is embarrassing no matter what, but her reaction heavily depends on the circumstances. Close friends can comfort her after some sulking and then she can kind of chuckle about it. Regular peers get some threats not to talk about it, then she'll withdraw for a few days before she can get over it. Strangers she just tries to get out of there ASAP and wants to crawl under a rock

* Probably has a pretty big omo kin/k (mostly seeing others desperate, but sometimes indulges herself), but she's super embarrassed about it. You'd have to work real hard to get her to bring it up/ask you to participate. If she can though, oh boy is she gonna be into it. She gets a real thrill out of the dominant side of it, teasing people and watching them squirm (she's a very affectionate dom so expect some kisses and hugs while she casually straddles your bladder), breaking down their defenses until they lose control just for her. She does love being the sub on occasion though, it's nice to be the one flustered and nervous/having to be coddled for a change since she's usually so chill and tough.

Ko/da (animal whisperer) :

* Average bladder despite his large stature. Not overly weak, not overly strong. Mild pain tolerance. Can force himself to hold on for an exceptionally long time if necessary, but will be much weaker and prone to accidents afterwards.

* Pretty dang shy about asking/leaving, and is also legit bladdershy in public restrooms unless they're completely empty. Usually holds it during classes and then slips back to his dorm room's private restroom during lunch hour. Once he grows comfortable enough around certain friends he can use their dorm/house bathrooms, but that still takes some coaxing and a lot of visits to ease into it.

* He actually has less trouble going outside as long as there's plenty of cover and nobody's around (like a forest or smth). Animals don't judge the way people do. It's definitely not his first choice, but between say, a campground public bathroom and the woods, he'll take the woods.

* While most of his classmates/teachers in 1-A have gotten to know him enough to understand most of his miming communication, when he has to spend time with other classes/teachers or strangers in town, it can be a struggle. He's much more hesitant to 'speak up' about his need in the first place, and even once he does they don't really understand at first and it gets really embarrassing (short of doing an actual potty dance or starting to leak they might not figure it out in time). Sometimes he just writes it down instead/types it on his phone, which helps, but he's so used to charade communication that half the time he forgets that's an option.

* He tries not to be too obvious about his need when desperate, but isn't the best at hiding it. He gets really sweaty and can't quite wipe the nervous expression off his face, and his body posture is really tense and shaky. To be fair, he looks nervous a lot of the time, so most people might not pick up on the exact reason unless they know him well.

* When it gets REALLY bad he starts to squirm a little, pressing his knees together or rocking on his heels, shuffling in his seat, or the classic 'both hands gripping the edge of the chair with legs on either side, but you're not actually grabbing your crotch so it isn't obvious right?'. Any further and he'll do the actual crotch grab and a full potty dance, complete with tears budding in the corners of his eyes and little whining hums and whimpers.

* If he wets, he will be completely humiliated. Horribly ashamed, trying to clean up the mess but with no idea how, crying and on the verge of panic. That's all just alone. Have it happen in front of friends or in public and it's even worse, because now they're all gonna think he's a baby and not cool like them and he doesn't know whether to keep apologizing/crying or run away to hide forever.

* Luckily he's pretty easy to comfort once people try. He won't learn to laugh about it or anything but if people convince him they aren't mad or gonna make fun of him, he can meekly accept the offer to hang out or go back to join whatever group he left once he's cleaned up and had time to decompress.

* Doesn't really have an omo kin/k, but is a big sub with a humiliation kin/k so he could go along with it for his partner. He kinda likes the whole squirmy, blushy side of it and all the comfort and spoiling he gets afterwards uvu

Pi/xie Bob (blonde kitty teacher from the summer camp arc) :

* I actually don't have many for her since she was only in a few episodes, I just think she's really cute and cool

* Probably pretty good bladder capacity and strength to hold. High pain tolerance and endurance

* Would wet during a mission to avoid making mistakes bc she's a professional and isn't that embarrassed in the moment, but she thinks it's kinda gross and will shower ASAP afterwards. Also because her group is kind of idol-esque so there's a reputation on the line.

* Will go outdoors without much fuss if she needs to, but definitely prefers more civilized accommodations. You know she's got a nicer private bathroom than whatever general camp one the others have to use. Pros get privileges.

* Bounces/whines a lot when desperate and kind of paws at her crotch without really grabbing it. Lots of leg crossing and wriggling/hunching over. Only when by herself or with her close friends though. If she's in Pro-Hero mode trying to make good impressions or teaching camps, she can mask her needs remarkably well to focus on the task at hand. She forgets what she's saying periodically or has a shakier smile, but that's about it.

* FYI those giant cat paw gloves make getting a decent grip on her crotch imPAWsible

* Wetting is kind of embarrassing but she's also super relieved so it kind of balances out. Unless it happened live on tv or smth she'd probably be able to get over it pretty quickly. In front of any camper students she'd be embarrassed on the inside, but not let the flustering show. Instead she turns it into a teachable moment.

* Could have an omo kin/k or could not. We don't know a ton about her so I like flexible hcs.

[carnivigorous]

RULES: REPOST, DON’T REBLOG. JUST PICK A MUSE OF YOURS AND FILL IT OUT.

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MUSE: Sedel Everette Angaelus

BASICS

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL/SHORT/AVERAGE?  

This man is very tall.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT?  

He’s pretty insecure about it, feeling he towers over everyone and cannot be efficiently cute like people of a smaller stature. Most every day task is difficult where his legs don’t fit in places, he has to duck to get under most doorways, if there’s a low-hanging ceiling in a stair-case he has to be extra mindful. It’s a good thing he hates heights and will never go on a roller coaster, because he’d surpass the height safety limits.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE?  

It grows out straight reaching just above his rear with the left side straight cut and the other choppy; but strategically so. It’s very much on the softer end, almost silky. He trims the ends to keep it healthy, but will never cut off more than necessary.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR/WITH THEIR GROOMING?  

With four feet of hair you kind of have to. His baths/showers can last up to an hour with just his hair, he lathers thoroughly with shampoo and conditioner, sometimes only conditioner to avoid damage. He has to bathe fairly often given his areas of expertise.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE?  

Yes. He feels his looks are one of the only good thing he has, not that he’s particularly confident. He loves to play around with makeup, fashion, and hair, so he’ll express that through his own appearance. He uses his looks as a mask to cover up his monstrous nature.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK ABOUT THEM?  

Yes, hence he’ll try to blend in with whoever he’s around the best he can. He’ll adopt traits of people he’s around, until he’s comfortable. He wants to be liked, having only really known solitude. What’s more he wants to be accepted, fully aware that’s a stretch and would require another to condone the horrors he’s committed; which would only leave a terrible taste in his mouth.

PREFERENCES

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS?  

Indoors, typically. Unless it’s silent outdoors and in pleasant company.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE?  

Rain!

▸ FOREST OR BEACH?  

Beach! He loves the crashing waves washing up onto soft sand, and docks to sit on and watch the tide rise.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS?  

Both are nice, he likes subtle gems, but metal accessories are nicer.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES?  

Perfumes, but nothing too overpowering. He likes sweet scented things, like strawberry or vanilla lavender.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE?  

Personality, appearance is a bonus. They need to accept him for who he is, or work with him for betterment. Someone can be the most attractive person in existence and have the most shallow, untrustworthy, toxic personality and that just won’t fly.

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD?  

Being alone. He’d like to go to a market or mall, but wading through crowds of people would leave him exhausted and stressed very quickly.

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY?  

A happy middle ground. He acknowledges that rules are necessary and finds total chaos to be destructive. Though he tends to lean more toward anarchy.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES?  

Both. He’ll tell a hard truth if needed to someone he cares the deepest for, and white lies to protect others that may be more sensitive from his horrible nature.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC?  

As a mortician, science. But as someone who has had run-ins with demons and the supernatural, he finds them to be one in the same; magic simply far more advanced science humans haven’t come to understand.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT?  

Conflict that ends in peace is ideal, as you can’t have one without the other.

▸ NIGHT OR DAY?  

Night.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN?  

Dusk. There’s a charm to watching the sun disappear painting clouds with rich pinks and oranges, with the promise of tomorrow.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD?  

Cold! Give him negative degree temperatures, let him justify wearing sweaters and adorable winter fashion. Give him sparkling white snow covering everything in sight, and cold silent nights where his breath is visible under lantern light. Alternatively, just being in colder rooms is more comfortable.

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS?  

A few close friends. It’s difficult for him to get close to someone and simply call them an acquaintance. He gets attached.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME?  

Reading!

QUESTIONNAIRE

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS?  

I won’t even count eating people as that’s something that was forced onto him. He gets envious of people, his tendency to get aggressive real quickly and snap at any given moment if tension gets just a bit too much, he may or may not steal some of the cuter clothes on bodies he’s worked on for himself.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM?

Losing his parents stunted him in emotional support, knowing only the hospital and horrors they put him through. After getting out he found someone he got close to ( even enough to call it love ) and after their decent into insanity Sedel opted to kill him through mercy. Since then he’s been terrified of closeness and hesitant to trust.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS?  

He doesn’t recall much about his childhood, but he remembers sitting in the living room watching people pass by outside the windows and the smell of baked goods filling the house. He hates how he didn’t appreciate those moments of pure contentment enough as a kid as they were taken away so abruptly. More recently, it’s any time he could come close to a feeling like that usually while baking, or sewing while some nice swing or jazz plays.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL?  

Yes, and he hates it. Though he will not harm children or the innocent.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN?  

Bad. His mind warps and overflows with thoughts convincing him he’s done something wrong, or blaming him for said thing. He sits and festers in powerlessness and the inability to be able to do anything as wrath has more power over him than sorrow he bares his teeth and plummets into a panic. Fingers dig into his hair and head, and depending on the cause for the breakdown a simple touch could have him lashing out at whoever came near him. If unmedicated for a long period of time, at its worse, he’ll rampage. He’ll lose sight of people he knows, and view everyone as a danger to him; enticing what ever force that moves him to attack and kill whoever comes near him. Extreme caution is to be taken as well as soothing words and his medicine in order to calm him down.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE?

That’s a huge maybe. If he got to the point of believing so, deep down he’d hold onto his doubt. If someone proves time and time again that he can trust them this deeply, then eventually it might sink in that he can.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE?  

If it’s requited, he’s over the moon. The thought that someone could see past his mountain of negative traits and still like him for him and deal with his shenanigans is the warmest feeling. He tends to be physical in his affections, overwhelmed with appreciation. His eccentricities lessen a bit around them as he grows more comfortable, finding he can more more of his raw self. Whether it’s requited or unrequited he’ll make them things, support them in near everything they do, offer what ever comfort he can, and generally want to make them feel wanted and express his appreciation for them ( if that’s what they’re comfortable with ). He’ll do what he can to make them comfortable, be it time, space, or a hand to hold.

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tagged by: @streetsteel​ ♥! 

tagging: TAKE IT.