#head in hands. these stupid fuckers in marketing…….

[what-the-fuck-khr]

THIS SHIT PISSES ME OFF BRO FUCK THE VARIA WHERE IS RYOHEI AND CHROME

[bitterarcs]

There was no better conclusion to a work week than stealing the evening away with a friend, and Reno actually felt comfortable enough to include someone else in his extremely selective and miniscule group of confidants. The two of them were not sneaking around Midgar, but it held that same energy . . that same excitement. Almost like the time he snuck away to the industrial jungle gym of abandoned constriction materials, only Reno had been thirteen then and looking to get head from his friend. Reno was certainly not looking to get blown by Melissa, even the intrusive thought of it made him feel sordid five times over.

Electro mag-rod was made compact and hung by a leather band on his belt loop, then was set to rest on the surface of the roof. The smooth metal caught and reflected the distant beams of light, and the sight of his most trusted weapon brought a satisfied grin to lips. Suit and face were enough to clear the scum away, but Melissa was at his side . . there was no knowing the kinds of monsters which would arise from the sewers. More and more seemed to crawl out to be among the living each year. No concrete idea had been set to harden in mind regarding their plans, but the simple tranquility of being in another person's presence was a rarity he did not mind indulging in.

Even when it came to hanging out with his closest partner, the two men typically kept things superficial — drinks at a bar or drinks and a stupid show at either of their places. A drink on the roof would have been nice actually, but smelling the fresh smog corrupted air was fine enough. The red head made himself more comfortable by sitting down and then falling onto his back, arms lifting and hands cradling his cranium. No fascination was found with the sky, but Melissa's sudden question captured his attention. He snorted at the question, but waited to respond, knowing well when people asked such things they had ideas of their own in mind. Her response did not inspire laughter. He jerked his head upwards a little to look at her face, and the way the dim light of the burning cigarette as it reflected in her eyes and off her skin dully.

(  ❛  Yeah? I can see that. Pretty and all. Probably can act, huh. You have to deal with shitty people all the time.  ❜  )

The time it took Reno to respond, it seemed like he had forgotten about the question. A great deal of time passed, so he made little thinking noises to let her know he had not forgotten. It was a weird thing, tapping into childhood memories. It wasn't that long ago, but he felt a completely different person than the boy he had been. He didn't like talking about it, but he didn't exactly mind it either.

(  ❛  The badest mother fucker in ShinRa. Don't laugh. Okay, you can laugh, but I'm serious. Saw myself as this big kingpin, running drugs and weapons. Really thought that was where my life was headed. If it wasn't that, it was death. Slum kid either makes it big, becomes some stupid thug for someone big, or dies. You know?  ❜  )

He laughed at the absurdity just imagining him being a piece of shit, tattoo covered and illiterate asshole. Reno did make it big in some regards. He wasn't the president of the electric company nor the leader of the Turks, but one day he would take one of those positions. One day.

That derelict building between the slums from Sector 6 to Sector 5 was nothing but a den for lowlifes and criminals waiting to ambush the average underplater; but with a Turk at one's side, they were nothing but a minor nuisance. Reno was quick to take care of it and send the guys running (who knew better than try and source back-up when one donned the trademark Shinra suit), and they both climbed to the top of the abandoned place.

Once cleaned of the filth, it had a very good view of the skies above - at least of the patches that the plate structure didn't cover up. That far from the Wall Market and its endless neon signs and with whatever greenery and calm environment, they could pretend to be removed from the slums. In fact - they both had outlived that. Reno worked topside; Melissa had built herself a luxurious kingdom.

But it didn't change the fact they were slum born and bred, of course.

"What did you want to be growing up?" the woman asked while watching the smoke of her cigarette; not a vice she indulged into very often, but which felt right with the redhead's company, "I wanted to be an actress. Not of the kind that performs in bed, but..." the brunette shrugged, clearly amused despite the topic, "I guess that was close enough." @stingslikeabee

  (   is this a love confession, melissa ?  )

[camaro-and-smokes]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 7: Pack a Small Bag

Rating: EXPLICIT Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Stranger Things. Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham. Tags in general for the whole fic: Fluff & Gay sex. This chapter: Fluff, crossdressing. See all tags on AO3.

Links to other chapters on tumblr on Chapter 1 post >>

Read on AO3 >>

Summary: Steve takes Billy to his personal heaven.

::::::::::

Steve woke up to the relentless birds singing that lured itself into the bedroom through the open window. He turned his head to look at the heap of pillows next to him, and the blond curls peeking between them. Billy was snoring lightly, hugging his pillow tightly. Steve reached his hand to touch Billy's warm, bare skin on his back. With the back of his hand he trailed the curve from Billy's shoulder blades down to the small of his back.

Ever since they'd finally met they had slept together every night. And every morning Steve had had to touch Billy just to make sure that he was real, that he wasn't dreaming anymore. Billy was literally the one from his dream, they were a perfect match, a dream come true, and it was all real. To have that reassurance each and every morning always created a lump into Steve's throat, and all he wanted to do then was to wrap his hands around Billy, bury his face into the blond curls and kiss him senseless.

He couldn't help but to snuggle to Billy's side today either, to wrap his arm around Billy's waist and hug him just a little, to press a light kiss to his shoulder gently, to try not to disturb his sleep. Steve never wanted to let go of Billy, and one day he would claim him to his own for sure. He wanted to spend the rest of his time on this Earth with Billy.

But today he didn't want to wake Billy up too early. They had arrived at Tuscany few days ago, and the jet-lag was just starting slowly to ease up. He had a surprise for Billy for later, one he knew Billy would love, and he wanted Billy be as excited about it as he was. He had also made some other preparations, if Billy would be brave enough to go through with them after the surprise.

He looked at his watch. 6:43 am. He was so excited that he couldn't go back to sleep anyway, so he got up. Might as well go through some emails.

-oOo-

Billy woke up, and opened his eyes, seeing a bright white wall. Birds were singing somewhere outside, and the air had a strange scent to it. It took him a moment to remember that he wasn't in cold Chicago. He was in Tuscany, Italy. Had been for two days, with Steve.

He raised his head, and saw that Steve had already gotten up. He turned on his back grabbing Steve's pillow and buried his face into it. He couldn't help but to laugh. Everything was so surreal. One day he was heartbroken over some fucker, then he'd had a stupid silly dream, and few months later he had someone who was practically made for him: Steve Harrington, multimillionaire, Mr. Big of Chicago, Illinois. Founder and Vice President of marketing of one of the quickest growing tech firms in the world. Man from high society background, never having to think about the boring things in life, such as what to eat the following day. The man he, a meagre writer – a boy from California who had nothing when he left his abusive home at the age of 18, who had to live for a long time just by surviving day by day – now shared his days and nights with.

Their backgrounds couldn’t have been any further apart. Yet, here they were, together.

A smile crept on his face as he hugged Steve's pillow against his cheek. His Steve.

To Steve what they had just was from day one until the end of time. Yes, every feeling from the dreams was now there, in real life, for Billy too. Everything just felt --R I G H T-- with Steve. Billy had never had that with anyone before, not even when he'd been head over heels in love. Yet, he was still a bit hesitant of throwing himself into the relationship like Steve had done. It couldn’t be this easy, could it? Just to trust that the dreams were true? Maybe he should though, Steve might be his last love. Billy could live with that.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand to look at the time. Close to 9 am. Steve had let him sleep long. He had said that trying to sleep at the actual night time would help with the jet-lag, especially when they were in the country such a short time. Next time Billy would insist they stayed longer.

"Good morning, gorgeous," Steve said when Billy finally got up and walked to the patio. "Good morning," Billy replied, and gave a kiss on Steve's cheek. “I’m going to get something to eat. Did you already eat?” Steve put his phone away, and got up. “No. I’m coming with you, I only had coffee.” They got to the kitchen, and when Billy started to go through the contents of the fridge, Steve wrapped his arms around Billy’s waist and hugged him tightly from behind. “I’m going to take you shopping to Milan today,” he whispered to Billy’s ear, following it with kisses on his neck. “Uh…But Milan is nowhere near,” Billy chuckled as Steve’s stubble tickled his skin. “We’ll fly there. We have the plane to ourselves the whole time we’re here,” Steve said, his hands wandering on Billy’s stomach. “We might as well use it. A helicopter will take us from here to the airport. If you want to stop by in Rome, just say so, we can check out Colosseum and the Vatican while we're here." Billy took Steve’s hands in his and pushed them on his sides, no matter how good they felt. He was hungry. “You are ruining me.” “I’m going to ruin you so well that nothing will ever feel the same for you. That is how bad I’m going to ruin you,” Steve whispered forcing his hands back on Billy's waist, and bit the lobe of Billy’s ear gently. “So bad that you just can't live without me.” “And I’m going to love it all the way, right?” “You are.” “You’re mad.” “I’m madly in love.” Billy froze. He turned his head to glance at Steve. “Uh…Isn’t it a bit soon for that?” Steve turned Billy around and pinned him against the cold shelving of the fridge. “Billy Hargrove, you’re the one from my dreams. You’re everything I’ve been looking for and everything just…is as it should be with you. I do not wish nor want to be with anyone else. Only you. Isn’t that what being madly in love is if something?” Billy blushed. “You’re still mad all the same, Steve Harrington. Mad,” he said, but leaned to kiss Steve. “Maybe I’m in love with you, too,” he whispered into Steve’s mouth between kisses. "Just a little." Steve raised an eyebrow. “Just a little?” “Don’t get greedy. It’s only nine in the morning,” Billy smirked.

-oOo-

A black Mercedes took them from the Milan airport into the city center. Billy looked out the window, and saw them passing by the headquarters and main showrooms of Dolce & Gabbana, Gucci, and Valentino, followed by every other well known Italian designer brand in the world.

The car stopped in front of a store that had dark gray curtains in front of the window, and a simple black stylized monogram M hanging in front of the curtains. "What's this?" Billy asked when he stepped out from the car behind Steve. "Something I think you'll enjoy," Steve said smiling. They walked in and were met by two shop assistants. The other one locked the door behind them. "Welcome to M's. How may we serve you Mr. Harrington?" the other one asked. "My partner here would like to browse your collections. Please, show him whatever he wants to look at." Billy looked at Steve in disbelief. "Billy, my dearest," Steve said and took Billy’s hand in his, kissing the knuckles. "Go with them and choose whatever you like. I'll wait here." When Billy turned to look at the assistant, she was already standing by a doorway on the other side of the room. “Sir, would you come with me?”

The doorway opened into a massive showroom that had rows of clothes and mannequins wearing designer clothes, and stunning suits, but – to Billy’s surprise – also designer gowns, and lingerie – all made for men's measurements. And most of it was in other colours than black or navy blue.

Steve had brought Billy into his personal heaven.

The assistant asked for Billy’s size, and after he had walked through some of the isles, looked at the clothes in awe, and picked some to try on, he finally was brave enough to tell the assistant quietly what clothes he actually really much would like to see and try on. She smiled, and started towards the end of the room. “This way.”

After a well over an hour of choosing and trying on clothes Billy bit his lip nervously as he was about to walk back through the doorway to show the prettiest short, strapless dark burgundy coloured dress he’d ever seen to Steve. He’d chosen a bunch of clothes to take home – it was still incredible to him that he could just take it all with him, just like that – but this one was something he wanted to show Steve right away. He so badly wanted Steve to see it, and while he knew that Steve would love it, he was still a little self-conscious about showing himself wearing feminine stuff to someone else than Chrissy.

Billy took a deep breath, and walked to the shop's welcome area where Steve was waiting. “Hey,” he said quietly, when he stopped in the middle of the room. Steve looked up from his phone. A wide smile crept on his face as he took in the sight from the high-heels Billy was wearing all the way up to the dress, and Billy’s nervous smile. He got up putting the phone in his pocket, and walked to Billy. “May I have this dance?” he asked, reaching out his hands. Billy laughed. “Ok,” he smiled, “You may.” Steve wrapped his arm around Billy’s waist, pulling him tightly against him, and took his other hand in his. “You look amazing,” he whispered to Billy's ear, and slowly rotated them around. ”Have you ever danced like this with anyone?” he asked looking Billy in the eyes. Billy shook his head, smiling. “I’m going to take you dancing then," Steve said. "I know just the place back home.” “Am I dreaming?” Billy asked after a while. “Because this – everything – is unreal.” “Nope. Last time I checked, I had the most beautiful creature in a stunning dress in my arms. And he’s very much real,” Steve replied, and kissed Billy’s hand that was in his. “You know, we could go out here too, if you’d like.” Billy looked down to Steve's shoulder for a while, then he turned his gaze back at Steve's eyes. “As in…coming out as a pair? For real?” “Yeah,” Steve smiled. ”I don't want to keep it a secret anymore. I want to share you with the world. That you've captured my heart.” Billy laughed. “You’re insane.” Billy’s laughter never failed to make Steve smile. “You’ve been saying that throughout the day, but yet I feel very much sane. All of this makes sense. We make sense.” Billy shook his head again, smiling. ”Ok then, let's do it.”

[leviiattacks]

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n 

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

[spunkpunx]

Scrapping Over Owt - Liam Gallagher

Plot: Reader and Liam reconcile after their break up a few months prior. Set in 1993.

Warnings: Drugs (heroin, acid), Swearing, Smoking.

I’m definitely doing a smutty part 2 to this.

"You fuckin' daft cunt!" Noel shouted at his younger brother. Liam had accidentally banged a guitar against the wall on his way to carry it to the van.

"Fucken' calm down you prick, it's fine, see?" Liam snapped back, holding it up for Noel to look. The argument only began to escalate.

I was sat by the bar in the hotel, smoking a cig to cure my wavy head. We took acid the night before. Tony was sat next to me, scratching his initials into the wooden bar top with a penny. He looked tired. Coyley insisted the boys were to be in the studio first thing (10am) and where they went, that usually meant I went as well. I phoned back to Manchester to speak to Si last night, but he was shitfaced and I was tripping, so all of the relevant information had gone into one ear and fallen out the other.

"You could have fuckin' broken it you ugly big lout!" Noel shouted, and before Liam had the chance to start a scrap I shouted across the room.

"Comon, not right now lads. It feels like bits of my brain are falling away like wet cake." Tony laughed next to me, and Liam bristled, but surprisingly let it lie. It was true, my head was feeling fuzzy and still a bit mental, but it had been fun. The acid hadn't worn off until about 7am, and now, two hours later, we were all craving the extra sleep.

"Giz' a hand to take the guitars through then (y/n)," Noel said grumpily, gesturing me along. "You're a bit less clumsy than this pain in the ass." I ignored his back handed compliment and hopped off the bar stool, shoving my fags into my back pocket. Once we were outside by the van I let myself speak my thoughts to Noel.

"He doesn't want me here Noel," I told him miserably, putting a guitar into the back of the vehicle.

"Well it doesn't matter what rkid thinks cause he's a stupid twat."

"Yeah but he's burnin' a hole into my head with 'is eyes half the time, and I know yer want me here as a sound tech or whatever but I must be doing your lots head in by now."

"Stop yer chattin' woman." Noel gave me a joking smack round the back of my head. "You're here 'cause I want you here, and Coyley wants you here, and Guigs, and Bonehead, and even that little fucker McCarroll," he explained. "Maybe especially McCarroll." I rolled my eyes at him, pulling another cig out the pack.

"I might head into town today, do a bit of window shopping, you don't need me at the studio do yer?"

"Yer alright, giz one of them though," he replied, gesturing my cigarette packet. "I left mine upstairs."

"You gonna record that thing you wrote last night? It was good, and I'm pretty sure that's not just the drugs talking."

"Yeah maybe, dunno what I'm going to call it though."

"You'll think of something."

I went back into the hotel to grab my coat and bag, passing Coyley on the way in. Liam was sat at the bar with the rest of the band, except Noel. He was sat on top of my jacket.

"Hey, Li, can I grab my coat?" I asked, coming over. He ignored me. "Liam?" I repeat.

"What?"

"Your sat on my jacket."

"Stop bloody mithering me fuckin' hell," he complained. I saw Guigsy raise his eyebrows.

"Give over, I need to catch the next bus," I snapped. That twat always knew how to get on my nerves.

"Come on Liam, let (y/n) grab her jacket," Tony spoke up. The boys all looked at him, and reluctantly he gave it up. I put out my cig in the ashtray on the bar before pulling on my jacket.

——

It was raining heavy in London. I caught the bus from the hotel to Camden Market and set about browsing the records and clothes there. The stall owners were too miserable in the rain to drive the hard sell, so it was quite peaceful despite the weather. I hadn't meant to buy anything but ended up with a Smiths t-shirt, a floral babydoll dress and even a new record. Blur, and this one had come out this year. Modern Life Is Rubbish, it was called. I hadn't heard their stuff before, but the album cover seemed quite dreary so I was pretty sure the songs would be as morose as the title. I walked back along the street, stopping at a phone box. I'd only been here for an hour, it was just past 11 and the boys wouldn't be back for hours. I stepped in and dialled up the number.

"Hi mam," I greeted her as she answered the phone.

"Oh hello love, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just thought I'd call, it been like... a month I think?"

"Oh, I hadn't realised. How's Manchester?" she asked.

"Fine, I'm actually in London at the minute, boys are recording with the band."

"Oh aye, and how are things with Liam?"

"Not so good, he's still annoyed at me about the break up."

"Ah well, I'm sure things will work out."

We talked some more, catching up on what had gone on. Katy had started piano lessons, and Martin had been promoted at work. Things had been easier with mam since I'd been living in Manchester. I suppose it was because we weren't fighting as much. After we'd spoken, I decided to ring Si, to catch up properly. When he picked up the phone his voice was groggy, he'd obviously just rolled out of bed.

"Hello?"

"Hey Si, it's (y/n)."

"Ah! (y/n)! How's it down in London?" he greeted cheerily, still sounding tired.

"Did I wake you by any chance?" I asked, laughing slightly.

"Yeah, but it's about time I got up anyway. Li been any trouble for ya?"

"A bit, but it's been a laugh anyway. Mate I've taken so much acid my brain feels like mush most of the time now."

"I don't think I could ever hack it like you do, rkid. David's been asking after you."

"David's always asking after me. He's a daft cunt that one," I replied. It still felt a bit strange to me how the old group had fallen apart. I only really spoke to Si now. I hadn't even seen David since, well, that incident. As for the girls, well I bumped into Saorise at the corner shop a few weeks back, and I knew Harriet had been busy with her baby. It was a nightmare, like everyone had become all ridiculously adult while Li and I were busy dicking around.

"Aye, well he might even apologise one day," Si pointed out.

"Fat chance of that. Have you spoken to my Dad?" I asked.

"Yeah, called round the house the other day, he doesn't seem in a good way, if I'm honest (y/n."

"What? Like he's poorly?"

"He's a junkie," he explained bluntly.

"He's always been one of those," I responded, chuckling slightly.

"He's injecting shit into himself."

"Oh." My face fell. "Well, thanks for letting me know Si, I suppose I should get back to the hotel."

"You don't have to, stay on the phone, we can catch up."

"Sorry Si, I've got to get back."

"Right, okay. Call me tomorrow then sweetheart, and you better be straight to my door when you get back up North."

"Of course I will dickhead, see you soon."

——

I got a taxi to the studio, deciding it would be best to stay up to date on what was going on. I tried not to think about what Si had said about my dad. He'd dabbled in pretty much every drug at some point, but injecting heroin seemed to be a big leap. The information weighed down on my, my heart seeming to have dropped into my stomach since the situation had come to light.

"Boys, how are you getting on?" I asked through the microphone at the recording studio, just seconds after walking through the door. The producer gave me an annoyed look, but Noel beckoned me through. Liam had gone a bit quiet.

"(y/n), you gotta listen to this one, it sounds fucking good," Guigsy shared. I looked at Noel for his confirmation and he shrugged modestly, but I could tell by the grin on his face he liked it. I took a seat on the floor in front of the band, then they began the song.

Liam was doing a good line in not looking at me, but I could tell he was conscious of my presence. He looked cool as he sang the song that Noel had written only the night before, but Liam always looked cool, because he was. After the song had ended, Noel looked at me for an opinion.

"It's a fucking good song," I began. "But it just needs eyebrows."

"Eyebrows?" Liam asked. It was the first thing he'd said to me in a normal tone since our break up. "What the fuck does that mean?" he added, back to how he had been acting towards me.

"Like, it's almost there, but... well, people look weird without eyebrows don't they? It just needs that extra little thing."

"I've got an idea," Noel spoke up. He tossed a tambourine at me, which I caught. "(Y/n), you can be the eyebrows."

——

After the session the band decided we'd go to the pub. Of course, the boys got annoyed when I wanted to run back in the hotel and get changed, but Noel agreed he wanted to drop a guitar off anyway in case he had any ideas in the night. I really wanted to get drunk, just to forget about dad.

I don't know why I wanted to dress up, but I opted for the only fancy dress I owned; little black number with spaghetti straps. I wasn't even sure why I brought it. I never dressed up even back in Manchester. I actually never even wore the dress out. I paired it with the sambas I was already wearing and tied my hair back into a very loose ponytail.

"Wow, you scrub up!" announced Bonehead as I came into the foyer. Liam was watching me walk towards them, almost a scowl on his face. Tony grinned at me, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"You look lovely," he complimented. I heard a wolf whistle behind me as Noel came down from his room.

"Christ, (y/n). It's gonna be a nightmare keeping those London lads away from you tonight." I laughed at their flattery.

"Sod off, you charmers, let go to the pub."

——

I was feeling rough as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, trying to tame my flyaway hairs. I thought getting drunk would take my mind off things, but I still felt a weight on my shoulders. I balled up my fists in frustration. My skirt had been riding up all night, I shouldn't have worn it. My head felt wavy and instead of the alcohol dulling down my emotions, I felt like I could cry at any moment.

As I went to leave the toilet, I bumped into the girl from the bar. She scowled at me a little. I raised my eyebrows.

"Watch out! Fucking hell," she looked my outfit up and down. "You really dressed like a council house slut then?"

It was especially bad timing on her part. I swung at her, hitting her face quite hard. She fought back, clawing at my face and hair, but I pushed her over, essentially just throwing myself at her so we were tussling on the ground. I felt a pair of arms grab me and pull me off her quickly. There was blood, I wasn't sure whose, but it wasn't a lot. She scarpered off while I swore and was held back by a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I turned round to him, unsure of what to say.

"Thanks, Li."

"What was all that about?" he asked, offering me a fag. I took it.

"Bad timing, I haven't been in the best mood," I explained loosely. Liam didn't respond for a moment, but he lifted his hand and brushed his thumb under my eye. I felt my heart rise, but payed it little attention. I was drunk.

"She caught you there," he said, softly, referencing a scratch that I must have sustained. "Then again, you did a lot more damage to her." He smirked slightly, returning his hand to his side. It was strange. I hadn't had a normal conversation with Liam for months, but now it was like barely anything had changed.

"I'm sorry, Li," I mumbled, looking down at my feet, my arms wrapped around myself, feeling very self conscious in the dress I wore.

"I'm not your mam, I've done way worse to people in fights," he chuckled, but I sensed he was deliberately missing the point.

"Not about that, about the rest of it." He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek slightly.

"I know you are sweetheart. I'm sorry too," he said finally, almost sheepishly. "God, it's always been tough to stay mad at you." He opened his arms out for a hug, and at that point all my emotions flooded out very suddenly and I rushed into his embrace, trying to stifle the tears in my eyes. After a moment he must have realised I was crying because he stroked my hair. "Hey? Shh, what's up (y/n)?"

I pulled away, wiping my eyes on the back of my wrists.

"I shouldn't have worn this dress, it's awful," I complained tearfully. I could tell he could sense more to the story, I seldom cried.

"What are you talking about, it looks great on you," he scoffed, trying to make me laugh a bit.

"All these horrible men in here, staring. It keeps riding up short and I feel so fucking naked," I continued to try to explain, once again wrapping my arms up over my chest as an attempt to feel less exposed. Liam looked a little blank, but he took off his Parka and wrapped it over my shoulders.

"Here you go, go wait outside for a moment. I'm going for a piss and then we can have a chat," he said, and I couldn't help but grin at his bluntness. It made sense, he must have run into me on his way to the toilet. I nodded and he gave me a quick squeeze before leaving again. I followed his instructions, going to sit in the beer garden and wait for his return. It was a fairly fine night, but I appreciated being able to wrap myself up in Liam's still warm coat, especially with the colder night air.

I smoked the cig, thinking about how long it had been since me and Liam had been okay. It was lucky that it was Liam I had fallen out with rather than Noel. I don't think Noel was capable of forgiveness like Liam was.

"What's the story then, (y/n) my dear?" Liam asked me, as soon as he'd come and sat down. I smiled at the nickname.

"I spoke to Si," I began. Liam grimaced slightly at the mention of his name. "My dad's on smack now Li, properly. Injecting it apparently. He's in a bad way."

Liam's face softened, putting a hand over mine and rubbing a gentle circle on the back of it with his index finger.

"And... well. On a different subject, I never slept with Si. Ever. Not that night we broke up, and never after that either. I needed to tell you," I added. Liam looked up at me, surprised at the sudden confession. "I wouldn't have cheated on you Liam. I'm not a liar, and I loved you. Actually, I do love you still."

"(Y/n)..." Liam began, but I cut him off.

"It's whatever, it doesn't matter." I stood up, ready to go inside and drink more until I blocked this confession out of my memory. As I turned, Liam grabbed my hand. I turned round to see him stand from the table, not letting go of me.

"Hang on, not so fast."

He was stood in front of me now, and I could only stand there and look up at him. His hand brushed the side of my face, smoothing over my hair. Part of me wanted to run away and go inside, but I couldn't move. I had to see what he was going to say, what he was going to do next. There was a pause, like he was thinking, I could almost hear his brain working. Then his face drew closer to mine and his lips connected with my own and it was like all the tears and shouting had never happened. His hand fell from my face and his arms slipped underneath the parka he'd lent me, wrapping around my waist and pulling me impossibly close.

We broke the kiss and Liam rested his forehead against mine. We were still pressed against each other. He looked at me, lips parted with a slight smile as his eyes glanced across my face as if he couldn't believe I was there.

"I love you, (y/n)," he whispered softly. I smiled, then pulled him by my arms that wrapped around his neck into the tightest hug.

“I missed you so much, dickhead,” I mumbled into his chest, while Liam chucked at my tight embrace. He pressed a kiss on the top of my head, nestling his face into the top of my hair.

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will. 

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal. 

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity. 

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields. 

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door. 

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn’t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence. 

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space.  The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously. 

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848. 

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.” 

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains. 

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.” 

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand. 

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering. 

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup. 

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer. 

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something. 

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and  and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim! 

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door. 

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely. 

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient. 

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway. 

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay. 

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels. 

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.” 

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle. 

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator. 

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time. 

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

[lovenona]

and i repeat: anthropo-ceramics geto suguru is the type of toxic where he'd take your virginity, make a sculpture about the experience, then smash it on the ground as a metaphor

this ask is my entire life. this ask is my lifeblood. everyone please saddle up for the ride of a lifetime, otherwise known as 1500ish words of toxic geto featuring sukuna being a good fucking friend – please continue at ur own risk this absolutely contains geto being a pretentious toxic fucker and mentions of virginity/first time but yes i guarantee it does have a happy ending (link to the full college! cinematic universe here) 

let’s begin with the basics – why wouldn’t you fuck geto suguru? he has the type of beauty that lingers on the back of your eyelids even after you’ve long since departed from him; it’s the kind of fragrant, lasting beauty that you think sculptors muse over when they coax life from their marble. he’s smooth, like still water, and calming, like the sound of birds rustling and leaves swaying at dawn. he is helen: a beauty that nations would go to war over. 

and sure, he is pretentious, the kind of toxic pretentiousness that festers inside of all pretty boys who call themselves “leftists” but can’t be bothered to call their mothers or to care about their partners. but it’s the way he speaks, the way he looks at you with such fervor and attention in his eyes that you’re utterly willing to let him break your heart. 

and maybe it’s not often that someone looks at you the way geto does: it’s not often that someone looks at you like they want you, body and soul. and it feels nice to be cared about, to be flirted with, even if the figure doing the flirting condescends you in a way that is different, harsher, colder, than the way ryomen sukuna does. 

so geto suguru takes you on dates. after the avant-garde poetry reading, in which you feigned excitement as he recited a poem on global imperialism that you didn’t quite vibe with, he brings you to local bookstores with overpriced yuppie memoirs, farmers’ markets with organic fruit, human rights protests and philosophy meetings where greasy boys bitterly discuss the communist manifesto. he takes you to dinner, too, to vegan restaurants that you can’t help but rave about on yelp later and to bars where they serve your cocktails in mason jars. 

geto suguru, for all his faults, is incredibly lighthearted with you; he makes you feel beautiful and desirable and warm, even when he’s explaining anthropology to you with such intense vigor that you lose track of his meaning. after everything, you’d be lying if you said you regretted your time with him.

after awhile you let geto fuck you – and yes, he was your first time, which you were naturally quite nervous about. but you appreciated him because he waited for you; he never pressured you into behaviors you didn’t want; he never asked you for services you weren’t ready to provide. and so when you slept with him, after an invigorating open-mic night at the fair-trade coffee shop near campus, you felt ready for the intimacy. geto made you feel attractive, comfortable, safe. he praised you the whole night, gave you caresses that lit you up like fireworks, provided such a level of god-tier aftercare you still reminisce about it, even now. 

but that’s the thing about anthropology-ceramics major geto suguru: he’s quietly toxic. he’s a poison that sneaks up on you, infecting your bloodstream when you least expect it. 

you weren’t sure if geto wanted to pursue a relationship, either. you’d fucked, sure, and you went on dates, but he was always the type to avoid long-term commitments. rumors float around campus of the many partners he’s ghosted, of the relationships he exploited for his own “artistic musings.” they aren’t loud rumors, to be sure, but they hang around his aura like a strange, ghostly scent. 

geto is a pretentious little fuck. you’ve known it and agreed to enter his circle anyway. maybe you hoped, perhaps naively, that the rumors would simply not apply to you.

which was a stupid idea. three weeks after the experience, since which you have only spent one-on-one time with geto only a few times, mostly to talk about school, the art department hosts an art show. it’s a regular occurrence, where the art students show off their best works, grad students display their in-progress theses, and outsiders can browse the displays, drink wine, offer to give outstanding students jobs and internships. it’s truly a big fucking deal for the art department; many of the school’s the most successful artists received their first acclaim here. 

you’ve always enjoyed attending, even if the level of talent and expertise sometimes intimidates you, even if you know you’ll never be on this level. you know sukuna’s got a few paintings lined up to be on display – paintings you’ve modeled for, drawings you’ve watched him labor over for hours on end. you reckon that for all your begrudging time together, you might as well show your face in support. 

but what you didn’t count on was geto’s contribution.

at this art show, there are, every now and then, some interactive performances, speeches, explanations on certain works. so it happens that from the back of the auditorium you watch geto take the stage, wheeling a small, white sculpture behind him. from your perspective it could have been a flower – perhaps a lily, but you can’t be certain. 

(geto always did like sculpting precious, dainty flowers.)

he doesn’t call you by name, but he doesn’t have to. he talks at great length in that smooth voice of his about the construct of virginity, the purity culture plaguing the globe, the emotional sensitivity of having your first time. geto seguru tells an avid audience what you felt about fucking for the first time. he recreates the entire night for two hundred listeners: he recalls the foreplay, the insecurity, the orgasms. he doesn’t call you by name. he doesn’t have to. 

he may have asked for your consent the first time. but he certainly did not ask your permission to do this. 

you’re not sure if you should laugh or cry when geto dramatically smashes his own sculpture, citing the “destruction of virginity” and  the need “to demolish a social desire to classify one’s morality based upon their sexual activity” and “the symbolic popping of the cherry” among other phrases that are utter bullshit. you’re watching the fragments dance across the stage and you feel exploited. you feel used in a way that feels utterly worse than anything else geto could have done.

did he ever like you? or were you simply a muse for this moment? 

you’re about to ditch the art show and go wallow in self pity at your apartment when a familiar presence slides in beside you.

“that’s kinda fucked,” sukuna says, hands in his jacket pockets. he’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his tone tells you he’s joking. maybe he just doesn’t know. “no one gives a shit about virginity constructs anymore, idiot.” 

“yeah,” you respond, but the energy is gone. you feel strange, like you’re hovering outside of yourself. your head hurts: you’re angry. you decide you’d like to cry when you get home. “what a piece of shit.” it comes out strangled and lost. 

sukuna notices the dejection in your voice, the sag in your shoulders, the way you’re just barely able to hold yourself together. he may be arrogant, not ryomen sukuna is not mean.

a familiar arm around your shoulders, keeping your sanity together. “shit’s lame. let’s get the fuck out of here.” it’s a phrase that captures everything that remains unsaid between you: i’m going to beat the shit out of geto the next time i see him. that’s absolutely unbelievable.

you never explicitly told sukuna about your weird relationship with geto: you didn’t have to. it was always evident to the both of you. it was written in the way you’d look a little bit longer in geto’s direction, in the way you let yourself be strung along and become someone else. you’ve hung around sukuna long enough that you know his body language and that he knows yours. you’ve hung around sukuna enough that there are a lifetime of stories that never need to be told. 

you nod. “yeah.” thank you. i know. 

you’re both uncharacteristically silent when you exit the auditorium, when you collect sukuna’s belongings that are still lounging by his artwork as you prepare to leave. ryomen sukuna is famous for never shutting the fuck up. but as you button your coat, he’s silent, and it’s strange. comfortable.

“thank you,” you say with uncharacteristic softness as he throws a sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it shut. 

“why?”

“for asking my permission,” you say, gesturing to the gallery wall behind him, to the painting of you – “eros” – that you had posed for awhile back. even now, you find that it captures an essence you did not know you possessed. “he didn’t. ask, i mean.” 

ryomen sukuna has always craved your attention. and maybe he’s glad he’s got it back – but it feels sour. he doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking upset for you. he doesn’t understand why he wants so badly for you to be happy again. what he does understand is that he plans for retribution. 

“that’s fucked,” he settles on. “what bastard doesn’t ask for consent?”

you smile – and he does too, one that’s less feral and almost kind. and so you fall back into routine, already, some kind of weight lifting from your shoulders. ryomen sukuna may be a menace, but you can rely on him, trust him: that much you know. 

“you know,” sukuna says offhandedly as you exit the building and enter the parking lot. “i know where geto’s car is, i’m just saying. and i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have an extra precision knife in my backpack right now.”  

[ygreczed-3]

The Red Guard and the Snow Angel

Summer Falls desert concept art

Hank and Connor

Gavin and Nines meditating + thunder, snow, fire and wind seal

Gavin and the thunder spirit

More concept arts - traditional art & inking

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

When they go through the Summer Falls desert, Connor and Nines pass out fairly soon due to their intolerance to fire magic. They only get better at night, when the temperature drops, so they stay awake to watch out while the humans sleep. During the day Hank and Gavin have to take them on their horse/Sumo and walk beside them, even though the intense heat isn't making things easy for them either. They reach a village in an oasis where Connor and Nines get better, and when they realize there's a spring in it, they decide to go and rest a bit as the night arrives.

Nines and Gavin are gone meditating on a less crowded part of the spring.

Gavin : That's stupid… How can this make me stronger than my training ? Nines : Stop talking and focus on your breathing.  Gavin : Grmphh.. Nines : Can you feel the source of magic inside your body ? Gavin : … Yeah. Nines : You have to… establish a connection with it. Show him you don't fear it Gavin : But I fear it. Nines : The war spirit you host is an incredible source of power, and you can believe me, it is as bellicose as you are. It only needs a goal to aim for and you'll be able to channel its energy.  Gavin : … You know I'm your enemy… Why do you help me ? Nines, closed eyes : I know I can compete with you. I'm ready to be challenged. And it's funnier to fight a skilled warrior than a scared little boy. Gavin : … Fucker.

X

Connor and Hank in the hot spring

Connor : I think that's what your hug feels like. Hank : hm ? Connor : The hot water. I think it's what hugs feel like. Hank : You said my hugs... Connor : Did I ? I was just thinking… about how you hug Sumo sometimes. He loves it. Hank : Yeah, this big boy loves cuddles  I admit that. Connor : It must feel good. Hank : What… You've never been hugged before ? Connor : Golems do have… intimate behaviors, of course but it's not… I mean we're… not physically warm, so... (NB : I was thinking golems in this universe would be like vampires, not as freezing as actual snow but still colder than humans) Hank : ...Thought you didn't like heat that much. Connor : Warmth from human's touch is different from fire magic : it feels more… safe, less aggressive. I think I'd like that. Hank : … How do you know that ? Connor : I touched your back to heal it, remember ? Your warmth feels nice. Hank : Yeah okay, you touched me, but you don't know what my hugs feel like ? Maybe you'd hate that. Connor : I wish I could know.

They look at each other, but then Hank looks away and stands up.

Hank : It's late, I'm tired. I'm going back to the inn. Connor seems disappointed, but then Hank keeps going. Hank : You coming ?

When they enter the room they share all together, Nines is already in stasis and Gavin is snoring loudly.

Hank takes Connor's wrist silently, looking at him in the eyes as if tacitly asking for permission. Connor just lets himself be enveloped by wide arms, and rests his cheek on his collar bone.

Connor sighs, closing his eyes as he enjoys that nice bear hug. He feels that warm something in his chest growing in his body, invading his stomach with pleasing flutters. 

Connor : Hank… Hank : Shhh… it would be embarrassing to wake those two idiots up now.

Connor bites his lower lip as he silently reaches for Hank's hand, his skin turning white as he presses gently each of his fingers against Hank's. It's known to be a quite intimate gesture among golems, and the closest human equivalence to it would be a kiss. Connor is aware that it could even be interpreted as indecent given how close their bodies are, and that if Nines was to wake up at that moment he would probably choke on thin air. Of course Hank has no clue about that and just thinks it's funny.

Hank : What, you wanna dance ?

Connor realizes they're holding each other on the left side and touching hands on the right side, and it seems like they're going to waltz. He chuckles from the absurdity of the situation from a human's perspective. 

Connor : I wouldn't know how to. Hank : Good thing, I'm a terrible dancer. Connor : Ahah...hmm, Hank, I like it. Can we stay like this for a moment ? Hank : Sure.

X

One night in the middle of the desert, Gavin is on the watch as Hank sleeps in the tent. Connor is with him, but Nines inexplicably stays around the fire, silent. Gavin is bored out so he just starts the conversation. 

Gavin : I feel like the old man and your stupid brother are getting along. Nines : I have this feeling too. Gavin : Doesn't bother you? Nines : What can I do ? I asked Connor to be careful, but I'm not blind… He's shining with glee whenever Hank is around him. I can't… force him not to feel. Also, I think Hank isn't that bad of a person… for a human. Gavin : Still certain we're the bad guys ? Think about it : you were made to serve us.  You betrayed your creators and let us starve like dogs. Nines : Humans didn't create us. Kamski did, and if he had wanted to, he could have made unthinking, obedient golems. Maybe we were meant to break free. Gavin : Oh yeah, so why can't you even procreate ? Simple answer: you were not designed to be an individual species from the start. You were built with no other purpose in life than to help us survive.  Nines : Didn't that even occur to you that humans did bad things too ? Gavin : We're just trying to survive ! Nines : So we are. Gavin : … So what ? You're saying we're two evils ? Of course we are. But I have to protect my people, you understand that ?

Nines stays silent, exploring the surprisingly genuine glare Gavin throws at him. Of course he understands that. His own despise for humanity is only driven by his deep desire to protect Connor, Marcus, and his people. He looks back at the fire heating them, unconsciously processing how ridiculously similar they are.

And yet, something starts growing in his mind, the irritating sensation his relationship with Gavin has changed from the moment they met, and that he unexpectedly wanted to protect him as well.

Nines : Would you kill me ?

He can't even explain how this sentence even made it out of his throat. He already knows the answer. Gavin stares at him longingly, noticeably surprised by the question. He stays silent as he puts more wood in the fire.

Gavin : If I had to, I probably would. But I… hum… don't want to. Nines : … hm. Gavin : What about you ? Would you kill me ? Nines : I don't know. If lives were at stake, certainly, even if I'd find this decision… regrettable. Gavin : ... Oh wow, is that your way to tell me you like me ? Nines : … Don't set your hopes too high.

Gavin breathes in a laugh and goes back to silence, smiling smugly. 

X

They arrive in Nestlepeek and split in two teams, Hank and Connor go to the center of the town, where Connor hopes to find more precise information about Kamski and where he hides.

Gavin and Nines were supposed to go buy supplies, but as they head to the covered market, they are challenged by a man in the street to defeat his champion in a fight. As Nines realizes it's all for illegal gambling, Gavin accepts and finds himself in a cage, combating a birdman.

He thinks he's got the hang of it but as soon as the birdman starts flying Gavin can't touch him with his sword anymore and becomes vulnerable to his aerial attacks.

Nines : Gavin ! Summon the spirit ! Gavin : No way ! Nines : You'll lose if you don't ! Gavin : I know what I'm doing, alright !? Nines : You obviously don't ! Thunder magic gives you advantageous long throw attacks, you can't win against a flying foe with close combat techniques ! Gavin : I think I killed enough Golems to know how to fight flying foes ! Nines : You bastard…

Nines uses his snow magic to catch the champion in ice and immobilize him.

Owner : What the hell !!! Who did that ?! Nines : I did. I'll replace your champion, open the cage.

The owner is confused first but then he sees the opportunity and accepts. Nines enters the cage and gets ready to fight.

Gavin : … You wanna die ? Told you I could do it. Nines : We've been talking about this fight for ages. It's time to see what you're capable of.

They start fighting and they're pretty even for the first ten minutes. Their fight gathered a lot of gamblers and spectators.

When Nines starts to take advantage, Gavin's eyes suddenly turn bright yellow, and he charges at him : Nines can see the thunder magic halo surrounding him. He parries many strikes but Gavin has gained in speed and ferocity. Soon enough, Gavin throws him to one extremity of the cage, and as the crowd around them is screaming in excitement, Gavin holds up his dagger. He's trembling, electricity forming around his hand. 

Nines can make eye contact but somehow, Gavin isn't answering his glare.

Nines : Gavin- You hear me ?

Gavin doesn't say anything, and Nines is sure he's gonna die when the human warrior shoots down his dagger… only to hit one of the cage's bars just behind him. Gavin closes his eyes, and opens them, showing blue-green orbs again, and he straightens up, breathless.

The crowd boos them as Gavin takes a step back and drops the other dagger. He asks the owner to open the cage and leaves the place, Nines following him, still out of breath as well.

Nines : Gavin !

Gavin stops, letting Nines get closer, until they face each other again.

Nines : You did it. You mastered the spirit… Do you realize that ? Gavin : I could have killed you, then everyone around me. That's what the spirit wanted to do… Do you realize that ? Nines : But you didn't. With a bit more training-... Gavin : I almost killed you, Nines, for fuck's  sake ! Nines : … So what ? Thought you were ready to. Gavin : Listen, this beast wanted you dead, everyone dead so bad… How can I… How can I use this power when I know how dangerous and unstable it is? Nines : … But you stopped it, right ? You can control it. Gavin : You fucker, if it wasn't for you, I know I couldn't have stopped it. I would have killed all those strangers, I know that, and I'm not… I'm not a murderer. Nines : … What do you mean, for me ? Gavin : Drop it. I need some air, don't follow me.

X

Hank and Connor enter the library, Connor is looking for the archived events-records to see if Kamski came into this village (which is most likely given it's the first one you can find after the desert)

It appears that the local people can fly so the library is very high, and most scales don't even reach the top of the bookshelves.

Hank : How the hell can we reach the archives ? Connor : Wait a minute, I'll go there and take some volumes with me.

Connor spreads his wings, that widen to support his weight as he takes off to the highest point of the library. Hank is impressed by how graceful Connor looks in the air. When the golem comes back with a consequential pile of old, handwritten books, he's just there, mouth open in amazement.

Connor : Here we go… the last 10 years of history in this village… Ready to pull an all-nighter ?

Hank doesn't reply.

Connor : Hank ? Hank : You're beautiful.

Connor blinks once, his lips slightly parted from the surprise, his eyes conveying nothing else than confusion and yet, low-key content.

Connor: ..I'm sorry ? Hank : When you fly I mean… that's impressive… and beautiful. Connor : Huh… Thank you, I guess ? Anyway hum… let's… let's find a table… Hank : “Thank you” ? But do you even realize how beautiful you are ? Connor : I was created to meet some human ideal. Why would I be proud of something that isn't my doing ? Hank : Ah, don't be so modest.  Connor : … you know, I think I find humans more attractive than Golems. Each one of you is unique, and I love everything you call “flaws”.

Hank laughs halfheartedly at his last line.

Hank : You don't make sense, kid.

X

They read the archives until it's dark outside. Hank can't help but yawn as Connor lights the candles to keep reading.

Connor : You can go back to the inn, Gavin must be there already, and Nines can take over. Hank : Nah, I'm good. Connor : Hm… Hank : You okay ? You look… worried. Connor sighs : … What if we can't find Kamski ? What if… I was wrong, what if we had to go back to Detroit and Jericho with just nothing ? I don't want to return to a situation where I'll have to fight you… I just can't.  Hank : … Yeah, I understand that. I don't think I can remain a Red Guard after what we've been through… After I got to know you. Connor : If we were to fail… nothing will never be the same again. Without you.

Hank just looks at Connor with sharp eyes, as if he's got the urge to say something. At this point Hank knows he's falling for the Golem, but of course, he won't say anything, because he's sure it's only one sided, Connor is so young and handsome he can't possibly feel the same.

Actually the dark haired golem is totally in love with the man, but again, he thinks Hank can't reciprocate his feelings since he's probably into women (after all he used to have a wife), and definitely not into Golems anyways. It just feels so unfair to both of them to consider going back to their normal life when they just want to stay with the other so bad. They just wish they could stay together and run away in some romantic and lovesick lunacy. Again, they won't tell each other about it.

[thunderheadfred]

🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

[herwritingartcowboy]

Bonnie And Clyde

This is part 4 of my 13 days before Halloween. I hope you all love this as much as i did writing this. Not really Halloween or Bonnie and Clyde i jsut wanted a title. But hey a (sorta) Villain and a hero together is ohhhhh~ evil. But till next time bye my butterfly’s

Minors don’t interact.

Fandom: One punch man

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, mention of beer,

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

You were a skilled fighter as you were a agent. “Ms.L/n we have a new mission for you” “what is it?”  “An a assassin” “Cool were should i be posted” “Um city b” “Okay i’’l have them here in a few minutes”.

You were in your post trying to see anything, till one little movement in the shadows that could be missed with one blink. You walked into the building showing your badge walking up the stairs till you shall him. “Hey FBI!”, the person can only vanish as you can feel him behind you can turn around pointing your gun. “Your fast dear but let’s calm down a bit and make this quick”, he can only go in again as you moved only getting a cut on your cheek. “Ah fuck you ass” “Stop getting in my way now this is only becoming annoying i got a job to do so move out of my way” “Try me pretty  boy”.

You ended with your sleeves, cuts, and a bloody nose. “Your a good fighter way faster then me two only in another life i would have loved to met you. But i guess i saved enough time for them to leave” “You are such an ass i’ll kill you”. “Do it if you got the balls to” “I will ugh”. The male can only leave as you stood there with a smirk on your face.

You got back to your office as you started to wrap up your bandages. “Hey boss what happen to ‘i’ll have them here in minutes’” “Fuck off”. Your captain can only laugh as they mocked your voice, “But seriously you okay” “Yeah just can’t wait to met that fucker again” “What! Your going to try and met them again”. “Not a them but a male black hair and dark eyes” “So you only fought him to get his features” “Yep and the head of the work place needed to get away”. You only smiled as to think about the next time you will met this man.

It’s been a year trying to get this guy but he’s to damn fast. You’ve been in and out of the Hospital with deep cuts and almost broken bones but that never stopped you. “Ms.L/n please take a break” “No C/n, i need to take him down no matter what” “This is might of what he wanted to see you crumble as your pride fades away” “Shut your ass up before i stab you in the fucking neck”.  Your captain can only nod walking away after, you can only let out a sigh as you close up your building as you went to your local small market. You grabbed your beer and started to walk home. As you drank your beer bottle you can only think about that dumb male nija. 

Your last fights were some what different from the first, as now you can only ling on the wall of an alley way as memories kept coming in. 

“Fuck you asshole” “I don’t know why i can’t just slice your neck right now ending these stupid meetings” “Then do it i’m tired to either i die or you in bars”. You both only doge attacks from each other but you can only smile as you trapped him between a corner. You soon met his gaze as he can only glare at you. “If only i known you in a different life i would of had you in my bed by now”, the male who told you who’s name was Speed-o’-sound sonic can only blush a beat red. As you smirk guiding your hands up to his face, “What are you doing we are suppose to be enemies”. You hand landed on his cheeks as Sonic can only look into your eyes. “I hate you Sonic but i love this game we play, don’t act like i can’t see your eyes look at me up and down with lust”. You can only smile as Sonic now can place his hands on your hips. “I don’t know why but i want you to ta-”, you both heard sirens as you can both separate from each other as Sonic took off.

That was a week ago as now you wanted him, yes you were lonely now finding the man of your dreams but he was a villain. You hated this you both knew this might not work but you wanted it you wanted him. You finally pushed yourself up as you kept walking to your apartment. ‘This beer didn’t even got me that drunk’, you can only think as you pulled out your keys unlocking your door but once you opened the door you felt him. You can only turn your head as you shall him. “I missed you” “You were busy hum” “Yep but it’s time to continue our last meeting”.

Sonic can only moan out your name as you can only fuck his hole. “aaaaaa-a fuck” “Looks like this is the only thing i can beat you at” “F-fuck y-you”. You can only slow your hips as Sonic can only wine, “P-please m-mommy fuck me” “You want me to fill you up with cum” “yes”. You can only move your hips again as you both cum on each other that night. Frustration, passion, lust, and love was shown as you both now lay on your bed. 

“Y/n what does this make us?” “Lovers i think” “I think i’m going to like this”, said sonic as he laid his head on your expose chest . “Would you use this on your end” “Nope i love you to much”, Sonic can only blush as he relaxed in your touch as he slept. But you were still up just thinking about what the fuck you just did.

Now that was a year ago as now you were hero cause of your skills and being tired of being a agent and wanting more excitement in your life.  You came home to an empty home as Sonic was busy with his work. You cooked a meal for you as you had leftovers for Sonic just in case he came back hungry. Soon the door slammed open as you turned to see sonic walking a bit slower. “hey what happen” “Stupid bald guy i hate him i’ll kill him” “I haven’t seen you in a week and you come home angry”, Sonic only rolling his eyes. You can only set up a plate for the male as he changed and sat by you as you both ate. 

“Um Y/n question” “Yeah what” “Can you see if i can still produce sperm”.

“Y-yeah baby m-make me cum l-like a whore~”, Sonic can only moan out as you kept hitting his prostate. “Yeah my little whore~fuck”, that night he came all over the sheets. 

As you cleaned up the towels and changed the sheets as sonic changed you both got into bed as Sonic laid onto of you. “Y/n thank you but i have another request-” “You need me to lick you asshole next time” “Yes but no um a mission i have is near were a lot of low class heroes are can you maybe” “Beg and i will” “Hey only in sex you can dominate but after no” “Aw my little brat but okay”.

Now you were driving away hand covered with blood that was not yours as Sonic can look forward. “I thought, Y/n i-” “No no Sonic you fucked up sleep on the damn couch”. You slammed the door not wanting to look at his face.

You can remember was killing that poor couple, till a knock at the door took you away from those thoughts. “Y/n i know killing isn’t really your thing but you really want me to know everything” “Sonic i swear” “I know we are no Bonnie and Clyde but”, you opened the resting yourself on him as he held you. “Wanna fuck” “No but i want to cuddle” “Even better” “Scary movie and popcorn” “Scary Movie and Popcorn”.

_______The_End__________________________________

In the future i will write a Sonic x reader series. Kinda of a preview of what i will be like but we will see.

[katutsukushii]

Headcanon that bakugou dates someone quirkless and everyone is super confused but also invested. There are bets and private group chats and someone has done a background check on them. Someone definitely tried to check BK for any type of manipulation. (That poor soul is no longer with us).

I’m going to go and make this Karibaku, if that’s alright.

Okay, so.

Imagine if Kariage lives in a really rough neighbourhood, so he’s always been around illegal substances and black-market quirk-related content. And then he hears talk of bullets that can erase quirks, apparently they’ve started circulating around the villain communities, but they’re incredibly rare and have barely been used.

But then, one night, he’s walking home from Katsuki’s place, it’s the weekend and so he finally got the chance to go see him again since Kat is always busy at UA, and before he knows it he hears fighting in an alley, and just as he’s about to rush by the entrance to it, he hears a gunshot and suddenly there’s pain in his leg. A stray bullet.

It’s all a little bit blurry after that. 

Before he knows it, he’s in the hospital and he’s being told his quirk is gone.

Fine. Whatever. He wasn’t using it anyways since he was going to art school and it was only making his goddamn asthma worse.

But fuck.

Katsuki.

Now, he knew the blond wasn’t the way he used to be in middle school, he knew that his opinions on quirkless people used to be complicated and had since changed. But he just couldn’t get the damn thought out of his head, what if he had lost his chance before he even got to try and make it work with his friend?

He’d had a pathetic crush on him since Middle School. Katsuki knew about it, he was sure of it. They’d been dancing around each other for years.

And now... he didn’t know if the dance would continue.

He didn’t know if Katsuki would want him now that he’s... well, useless.

But then, the next day, Katsuki is right there by his side, holding his hand all the while he’s calling him an idiot for not being more careful.

Kariage pulls him in and kisses him before Katsuki manages to get himself kicked out.

After that, they officially starts dating.

The last thing he expected was for Katsuki to become increasingly more and more pissed off as they got further into the relationship.

At first, he figured he was the problem, maybe he’d done something.

But soon Katsuki told him.

“Told those stupid fuckers I was dating ya a while back cause they kept asking who I was talking to. They asked if you’re in the hero course and when I said no they asked if you have a weak quirk or something, I said you’re quirkless. They’ve been fuckin’ placing bets on how long it’s gonna take for me to dump you cause of it and shit.”

Kariage just shrugs and pulls him in, kissing him and hugging him until he finally calmed down.

A few days later, though, he gets a message on his IG. 

After a short chat, they finally end up asking the question they’ve clearly been meaning to ask, “so, how did you get Blasty to date you? What did you do to him?”

The moment Kariage texts Katsuki about what had happened, his boyfriend is trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Only then does he find out the lack of faith his friends have in him, the doubts and the judgement. 

Whatever. He doesn’t need those fuckers.

All he needs is Kariage. And he has him - quirk or not.

[headfulloffantasy]

Mafia AU - Rivals

Pairing: reed900, disclaimers: violence, death (no character of importance), setting: they are both bosses of rivaling mafias controlling the districts of Detroit

The whiskey Nines was putting down in a tumbler in front of Gavin had the same color as the desk he put it on, probably mahogany. Crossing his long legs, the other mafia boss sat back into his chair and eyed Gavin with one of those callous expressions Reed had gotten used to over the years. Still, there was that glint in his eyes, something telling the mob boss that Nines was more interested than he let on.

„So. You wanted to talk about my allotment in the Ferndale district business, am I right?“

The arrogance with which the words were said sent an itch under Gavin‘s skin, but he didn’t let any of that show on his face. If Nines wanted to play that game again, he would join in just for the fun of rubbing the other the wrong way and ruffling his polished demeanor a bit.

„Actually, I would prefer a beer.“

He looked up from the whiskey and it was the first time their eyes met that evening, fixating each other like wolves circling. The blue of Nines‘ irises thinned a little as he observed his rude guest with an unimpressed gaze, as cold as the color of his eyes.

„Sure. Whatever you prefer. Get the man a beer.“

The last sentence was directed at one of the servants standing around them, who immediately rushed off to fetch whatever the two men ordered. Richard, better known as Nines in the underground, didn’t take his gaze from Gavin the whole time.

„About Ferndale.“

„About Ferndale.“ Gavin pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, just because he knew how much the other hated smoking inside. The glacier irises just followed his movement though, yet he didn’t intervene. „You need to withdraw your men. That red ice market is ours.“

„Eloquently put, as always.” The mafia boss leaned back and took a sip of his whiskey which probably was worth a small fortune, just as much as his suit and his hairstyle with that dumb tuft of hair that always hung into his forehead. “As far as I remember the district belongs to Cyberlife. If your dealers make their businesses there, a part of the income naturally belongs to us.”

Before Gavin could reply, they were interrupted by the servant arriving back with the beer that had been ordered and handing it to the guest who unceremoniously popped it with the back of his lighter.

“Doesn’t mean you have to send in thugs. You could have talked to me first. And Ferndale doesn’t belong to Cyberlife. Just to make that clear.”

Nines swayed the beverage in his tumbler from side to side and Gavin could already tell that he would change the topic. It was the same between them as always when he paid the Stern villa a visit. Them arguing over some territorial disputes in the politest way, at least from Nines’ side, jumping from topic to topic and circling around anything that could end in a mafia war.

“I see you brought two Chloes with you. Heard they are your brother's most advanced models. Aren’t you feeling safe here?”

The two androids standing at the wall behind Gavin looked over at hearing their name. Guard androids, high end, perfect in martial arts and absolutely deadly. Just a precaution, how Elijah had put it.

“With you in the same room? Of course not.” Smiling over the edge of his beer, Gavin took another sip. Of course the fucker had his favorite brand already cool and ready.

“What a shame, Reed. And I just thought you were starting to get warm with me.“

Another smirk, another amused glint in those eyes, perfect lips moving only an inch. Trying to distract himself from immaculate hair and flawless freckled skin and blue eyes that bore themselves right into his soul, the mob boss took a long drag on his cigarette.

„As soon as you retrieve your people from Ferndale.“

Nines didn’t get to answer though as several police officers suddenly kicked down the doors and stormed into the room, yelling and pointing their guns at them. The Chloes and Nines‘ body guards immediately reacted, pulling their weapons and rushing forward to cover their leaders. Before Gavin knew what was happening, he felt a hand grab him by the shoulder and drag him behind the desk, down behind cover as the bullets started to fly over their heads.

“Phck!“

„Be quiet, idiot.“

„Oh, you shut up, dipshit!“

„Gavin, now is not the time to argue!“

It wasn’t the fact that Nines had snapped at him, finally dropping that facade of politeness in the face of danger, that made Gavin close his mouth, but the circumstance that he had called him something different than ‘Reed’ for once. Gavin didn’t get to think about it long though as one of the invaders had managed to get closer to them and was pointing their gun at Nines’ head peaking over the edge of the desk.

“Down!” he yelled while pulling Nines out of the line of fire by that stupid high collar, making the other fall on top of him in the process and pressing the air from his lungs. Wood splintered in all directions as the bullet hit the edge of the desk and struck the ground only inches next to where they laid. Quickly reaching for his own weapon, Gavin fired just in time to prevent the Officer from taking a second shot at them. The man collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, one clean bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

“Can’t you keep your head down, goddammit?!! He almost got you!”

Nines was still too startled to grasp the other’s words, only blinking in surprise at finding himself pressed chest to chest with his rival, hearts racing against each other, and his face mere inches from Gavin’s.

“Stop staring and get off me, asshole!”

That seemed to wake the other mafia boss from his trance and he regained his composure, face hardening and arms pushing himself up with ease to climb off his rival, now careful to stay behind cover. His hair was all messy now, ruffled in different directions and a stubborn strand still hanging into his forehead, but it didn't manage to take away from his handsome appearance. Quite the contrary actually.

Gavin cursed internally when he felt redness creep up his face and he sent Nines a glare as if that could convince his heart to calm down. He pulled another pistol he had hidden somewhere and pressed it into the other’s hands with more force than probably necessary.

“Here, use this. I hope you know how to use it, mister ‘I don’t do dirty work’.”

Nines only lifted a brow in amusement, but the speed with which his fingers pulled back the slide and cocked the gun told Gavin that he very well knew how to handle the weapon.

“Interesting to know how many weapons you managed to smuggle into my meeting room. I will make sure to let you get checked more thoroughly next time.”

“You better be grateful I have a spare gun, dipshit! Also, you are welcome for saving your ass. Now follow me and be quiet.” Gavin didn’t see Nines smile behind his back.

“Maybe you will let me take the lead this time. At least it’s my villa.“

Gavin rolled his eyes and stopped crawling towards the second exit while the fight was still going behind the desk.

„After you, your highness.“

[adhdeancas]

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down) 

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products. 

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold. 

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him. 

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth. 

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes. 

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks. 

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended. 

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore. 

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing. 

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register. 

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling. 

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words. 

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff. 

Damn transphobes. 

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect. 

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go. 

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous. 

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and- 

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again. 

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.” 

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar. 

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him. 

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone. 

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen. 

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually. 

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief.  What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried. 

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes. 

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

[splat-precipice]

Heist Au: Femme Fatale

Elena’s Mark is Bruno Madrigal. Goal: gather intel on the Madrigals home and inner sanctum

Elena walks up to Bruno by himself by bar at Madrigal's swanky party. Long since abandoning her “date” a cheating senator, at the poker table.

Elena orders a cocktail, and chats up the bartender. Through experience she know it is better if she doesn’t initiate conversation, let the mark think it’s his idea. Gives them confidence, and trust her faster.

“Hey… do I know you?”

Elena smiles as she sips her cocktails and looks sideways at the handsome, but slightly tortured looking Madrigal. 

“My God” she adopts an enticing giggle before turning to him, “Does that line ever work?”

Elena is surprised however, when his face remains serious and earnest, closing the gap between them.

“Your hair is short normally, but I know your face”, Bruno says his green eyes boring into her false blue ones.

“SHIT. You’ve been made, get out of there” a voice in Elena’s ear warns. But it’s too late, Bruno grabs her wrist and begins to lead her out of the party hall.

Elena is kicking herself for not taking Viv’s defense lessons seriously. The man is pencil necked and skinny, but she can feel the strength in him as he guides her to a secluded part of the mansion. And its hard to accesorize a taser in this dress.

“Look handsome, I don’t know you. But I would like to.” Elena allows a vulnerable tone to enter her voice. This isn’t a man who wants a vixen, he wants a damsel. “But, Sweetie you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you”, Bruno stops them in the dark alcove behind a curtain shielding them from view. Elena notes, perhaps a blind spot in the cameras.

“Elena! Get out of there”, Viv yells again. 

“I’m here with the Senator, he is probably missing me”. Bruno just nods at that and reaches to Elena’s ear, concealed by her hair.

“Someone talking to you I suspect? Let’s have some privacy”, As Bruno removes her hidden ear piece and taps it off.

“Y’know why us Madrigals are so good at what we do?”

“What are you good at? The stock market?”, Elena now adopting the airhead blonde persona.

Some stupid little idiot, playing spy and in over her head and inconceivable as a threat.

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you” Bruno still hasn’t let go of her wrist.

“We know when they money trucks are changing. We know which cops can be bribed, we never lose. Never” Bruno is staring intensely into her eyes. “Because we KNOW for a fact.”

“I can see the future. They make me see the future.” There was that tortured look again. Elena heart ached a little at the pain she saw there, but remembered. The Madrigal’s are murderers. And Bruno Madrigal, fucking delusional.

‘Let him lie’, Elena thinks listening intently. ‘But even in lies you can hear truth’ She wished she  had her earpiece to record all this.

“What do you mean?” Elena asked gently. There was no persona for this, no archetype. She will have to navigate this as herself. Bruno was too unpredictable to nail down safely. She will have to try sincerity, and fuck if it handn’t been a long time since she tried that on a man. 

“I saw our future. The both of us. We’re… together. We love each other”, he says this shyly. 

‘Jesus kill me now.’ Elena thinks, trying to keep her face impassive.

“I don’t believe in magic, and I certainly don’t believe in love,” Elena counters back, getting tired of this. She is way off mission and potentially in danger? It was hard to tell anymore.

“You will, and yes you do.” Bruno he moves that hand from her wrist to her hand, gently holding it. 

‘The fucker looks like he is already in love,’ Elena realized staring at him. ‘How long has he entertained this delusion, waiting for a random woman to apply this fantasy to?’

Elena was so confused and wary of the situation. Viv said run, but an opportunity was presenting itself. Usually, she would seduce men and run. But now, if she played his little game of “True Love”, could she have all the intel she wanted from this poor man? It felt wrong to her, he obviously was not well. But, this score would set them for life and it wasn’t just her that depended on it. She hated herself for it, but made a decision.

“I’ve been hurt before, it’s so hard to trust.” Elena said, allowing her doe eyes to project the vulnerability of a younger, dumber version of herself. 

“I promise... I would never hurt you.” 

[thenixkat]

HCs and OCs for a fic

Toyomitsu family: Descended from one of the first giant mutants in Japan. Tend to have monster or animal related transformation quirks in addition to being huge. Own farmland and forested areas all over the Kansai region. The family founded the Devil’s Market yakuza group which has been extremely long-running and focused on buying and selling illicit goods, general goods, and general supplies and labor for larger people. A Toyomitsu has been either the boss or first lieutenant of the Devil’s Market for as long as it’s existed. They had to move out of their Osaka base when All For One set up shop, their current main base of operations is in Esuha city. The family also runs a franchise of butcher shops across most of Japan under the name of Oni Meats which carries a vast selection of animal protein from around the world. Nearly all members of the family have prey drives from their monstrous transformations.

Ma- Manami- (Quirk) Bugbear- transformation quirk. If the user is sufficiently fat then they can transform into a hybrid bear/reptile monster. Has great senses and night vision as well as enhanced strength. Can induce fear by staring someone directly in the eyes. -->Prefers not to be involved with the less legal dealings of the family and Devil’s Market. She’s more than capable of being as much of if not more a terrifying mob boss than her little brother. She just likes farming better. -->Generally doesn’t look people in the eyes unless she doesn’t like them b/c her terror-inducing power stays active regardless of her form. She prefers not to scare folks who don’t deserve it. -->Gets on very well with her sister-in-law, if she wasn’t married she’d steal her brother’s wife. -->Met her husband in a fighting ring. She eviscerated him with her claws and he broke one of her arms and several of her ribs. They started talking while getting patched up. -->Is about 7’10” and built like a well-padded brick house. -->Is the one who judges new recruits into the gang. Tends to have them do farm work for at least a month to get a bead on their personalities.

Pa- Noel ‘Blue Devil’ Diablo nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Energy absorption- emitter quirk. Can absorb, temporarily store, and redirect kinetic/thermal/electric energy. Too much energy kept in the body for too long causes reckless and impulsive behavior and hyperactivity. Devil- mutant quirk. Has devil-like horns and a tail. -->Used to be a nomad b4 settling down with his strong beautiful wife. Supported himself on his travels with fighting, gambling, handyman skills, and musical skills. -->Brings nothing to the table in his household other than his good looks, good nature, and knack for fixing things and a broad range of skills. -->Holding in excess energy makes him glow blue, especially his horns. -->Loves his family just so much. Is the goofy dad and great flirty husband. -->Loved to carry his kids until they got waaaay too big for him to pick up. Stands on a char to talk to his kids and wife on their level. B/c they are just so damn tall. -->Is 6 ft tall with a strong build with very little body fat b/c of a side effect of his quirk. He gets cold easily b/c of this and it bothers his joints.

Grandpa- Ryuji ‘The Dragon/ Dread Emperor of Giants’ - (Quirk) Dragon- transformation quirk. Can transform into an eastern dragon or humanoid eastern dragon with the severity of the transformation depending on percentage of body fat. Can also control the weather. -->Controlling the weather means that his farms never have a bad year. He does sell this service on the black market through the Devil’s Market. -->Wanted to be a hero when he was young and stopped when his mom got sent to jail for vigilantism and murder for stopping a serial killer from preying on women in the community -->Retired after a betrayal from some too ambitious underlings lead to a crippling knee injury. Still acts as a source of wisdom for the family and the gang. -->Is the go-to babysitter. -->Prefers to be in his transformed state and hates the anti-public quirk use laws with a passion. -->His full dragon form is as long as a bus and can fly. His humanoid dragon form/human form (sans antlers) is 8’5”

Grandma- Akane- (Quirk) None. -->An ex-mercenary who beat Ryuji in his prime AND in his full dragon form with nothing but some rope and her bare hands. -->Very good with guns and knives -->Takes advantage of the fact that as a plump quirkless woman she tends to get overlooked by people with powers to end fuckers. -->Was the one who got rid of the over-ambitious underlings who attempted a coup against her husband. -->Is about 5’10”, very chubby, wears glasses, and is rather soft-spoken. -->Is an icon to the quirkless members of the Devil’s Market and teaches them how to fight people with powers.

Uncle- Wani ‘The Butcher’- (Quirk) Crocodilian- transformation quirk. Similar to grandpa but crocodile instead of dragon. Has a great sense of smell and hearing as well as night vision. Is bulletproof at full strength. -->A strong proponent of community defense to the point where more people came to him about community issues than go to police or heroes. He gets problems handled permanently. -->Also heavily invested in technology and occult studies to see if there was a way to make life easier for people -->Also prefers to be in his transformed state -->Caught and ate 3 quirk diagnosing doctors in the area who were trafficking children into human experimentation. Managed to rescue most of the kids. -->Was arrested and sent to Tartarus for a string of killing corrupt cops and heroes fucking around in his neighborhood. His family often visits him. -->Fell for his wife when she bet him she could drink him under the table with the loser paying the tab. She won. -->Is about 8 ft tall and at least half as wide b4 going to jail. In prison he rapidly lost weight, the family is planning a jailbreak.

Auntie- Jay ‘Jaybird/Hummingbird’ Johnson nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Fast Twitch- emitter quirk. A speedster type. Can move and think at superhuman speeds for a few minutes at a time every hour. Has a very high metabolism and needs to consume large amounts of food in general. -->Was a villain before settling down. Still pulls off a robbery every now and then and has a fondness for gems. -->A Black American who came to Japan to hide from law enforcement after a heist gone wrong. -->Thinks that the way people throw the word villain around to just about any fucker committing any kind of crime while using a quirk really dilutes the word. Thinks that villains need fun costumes and proper themes and intent. -->Her sister-in-law was one of the first women she’s ever met who never criticized her eating habits and she would kill for the other woman. Ride or die friendship. -->Is constantly hungry due to her speedster metabolism and has to eat a lot. -->About 5’8” and leggy with plenty of visible muscle.

Sister- Onini ‘Oni/Gargoyle’- (Quirk) Gargoyle- transformation quirk. Can transform into a stone-skinned gargoyle with the severity of the transformation being dependant on amount of body fat. Heat Sink- emitter quirk. Can absorb, store, and release thermal energy. -->Tried to become a hero but was bullied out of school -->Named after one of her mom’s friends -->Considers cousin Kenji to be effectively one of her brothers -->Became a firefighter and uses her quirks on the job even tho it’s illegal. Not like the people she’s saving are gonna complain. -->Tends to flirt with strong women. -->Actually tends to stay partially transformed b/c she likes having a tail and passes herself off as a mutant -->If she gets too hungry and loses control she can become a heat vampire and freeze things to death while feeding on their body heat. -->Spends a lot of time helping out on the farm and her mother is most likely to pass ownership of the family land to her once she retires. -->The most likely person in her generation of the family to have biological kids. --->Keeps teasing Fatgum about when he’s gonna officially adopt his interns. -->Is about 7’5” and technically is too heavy to fly but she glides pretty well.

Cousin- Kenjiro ‘Kenji/Ken/Shuten’- (Quirk) Fast Oni- transformation quirk. Can transform into an oni with enhanced speed and strength. Transforming causes his metabolism to speed up and he burns fat to stay in oni form. Has a speedster metabolism in regular form, if he doesn’t eat a substantial meal every 5 hours he starts losing weight (fat and muscle) rapidly and is consequently always hungry. -->Would love to stay in his transformed form but can’t due to the timer. -->Is jealous of Taishiro’s height and metabolism so he makes fun of the way Tai’s face looks when he’s transformed. Also jealous of Onini’s ability to not be constantly hungry. -->Is constantly hungry from the day his quirk came in and had to take appetite suppressants during puberty to keep from losing his head and chowing down on anything and anyone in reach during his growth spurts. -->Has been mistaken for Fatgum more than once due to their similar-ish size and clothing choices. It frustrates him to no end b/c he’s way darker than Tai and prefers wearing blue or white. -->Has intentionally eaten people. Most notable example being him ending a war with a rival yakuza group by capturing, butchering, and cooking the rival leader and openly serving him for dinner at the peace treaty/gang merger. -->Strongly supports Fatgum as a hero and the two combine resources to help the community whether that is through funding housing for the homeless or getting a very good tailor the resources to make clothing for specific clientele or sending the other to deal with a situation appropriately. -->Brings a knife to a gunfight b/c he’s a superstrong speedster and a gun ain’t go do shit if you ain’t got no hands. -->Thinks Overhaul is a stupid asshole b/c it’s not that hard to get blood out of a kid or train a kid to be ok with it. -->Is about 7’10” and has heard every short joke under the sun from Tai

Fatgum-Taishiro ‘Tai’- (Quirk) Fat Absorption- Transformation quirk into an uncanny valley cartoony blob man that is as strong as the amount of body fat he has. Can absorb, neutralize, or release kinetic energy. Eyes glow in the dark like a cartoon when his quirk is active. Has a great sense of taste and is incapable of feeling sated/is always hungry. Also has an extremely efficient digestive system that breaks food down in seconds. Can also convert fat into muscle as well as generally having enhanced strength and speed while transformed. -->Was a late bloomer. His quirk didn’t start coming in till he was 8 and it took a while b4 he was fat enough for it to have notable effects. -->Preferred being in his skinnier form during middle and high school due to bullying and self-esteem issues that he didn’t work through until his early twenties. -->Started high school at 5’7” (170 cm) at 14 yrs old and was 8’2 (250 cm) when he graduated at 18 yrs old. Puberty was hell and pants were his enemy. -->Had a friend in hero support who took it as a personal challenge to make him clothing that he couldn’t destroy, that would grow and shrink with him, and that he couldn’t outgrow heightwise either. Ended up inventing ‘indestructible pants’ and making bank. -->Does not have canine teeth due to a mutation related to his quirk. Does have several rows of teeth that can replace themselves like a shark’s due to the same mutation. The fuckery of his mouth is only really noticeable if he’s ‘stretching’/pushing his transformation to its fullest extent or if someone’s feeling around inside of his mouth for whatever reason. -->Does not have a gag reflex -->Has been constantly hungry since his quirk emerged and like Kenji had to take appetite suppressants during his growth spurts to keep control of himself. An asshole classmate once replaced his appetite suppressants with appetite stimulants to see what happens. Several people ended up hospitalized, Taishiro still has nightmares about it and said asshole student actually managed to get expelled. Has a restraining order against said asshole classmate who fucked off to England to be a hero there. -->Is so glad he’s done growing. Went through clothes like water when he was a teen. -->Going several days without getting enough calories in tends to activate his prey drive and he really doesn’t like that b/c heroes shouldn’t murder or maul people. Figured out this aspect when he mauled a bully after his quirk just came in and later during a survival training exercise in hero school in which he ended up eating a live bear after several days of living on trail rations (scared his teammates for life with that one). -->A lot of aspects of his costume with the bright colors and friendly mannerisms is to reduce the intimidation factor/terrifying aspects of his appearance. He is aware that in his transformed state he’s a giant uncanny valley cartoony egg man monster that can fucking absorb people into his body. -->While transformed his limb, mouth, and eye proportions are extremely fluid and change nearly at will. If he wants to his face can be entirely mouth, which he knows is terrifying to other people. His arms and legs can rubber hose it though they aren’t as strong when he does that, does mean he can grab from angles that shouldn’t be possible. -->Was bullied as a kid for being ‘quirkless’ b4 his quirk manifested and then he was bullied for being fat. It did a number on his self-esteem as a teen leading him to prefer using his thinner form as his default. -->His thinner form was considered a heartthrob in school to his frustration. Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the fact people found him hot to make money or flirt a free lunch off of someone. Was in a hot guy calendar made and distributed by one of his classmates. -->It absolutely gets on his nerves when people only find his skinny form attractive. -->After graduation, he lost muscle b/c that starter hero paycheck ain’t shit and the Hero Commission refused to let him write off food costs as business expenses. Had to save his food money for patrols leading to him losing weight. -->Participated in underground fighting rings to both make some money on the side and get better at using his quirk -->Has tried Trigger b4 and carries a small vial of the good version of it just in case he really needs it one day. (Listen, you ain’t finding shit trying to pat down fucking Fatgum) -->While transformed the absorbing things into him thing is automatic, put too much pressure on the flabbier parts of his body and you’ll just sink in. It takes effort to release things and took him a while to learn how to do this as a kid. Before he learned how to release things, he’d just turn off his quirk to get things out of him. -->Was blackmailed into working for the cops after getting caught during a raid of one of the fighting rings he was participating in. Decided to be a double agent and give away info on cases to the Devil’s Market to help them stay ahead of the cops. Also blew a decent chunk of the Osaka police force’s budget on his feeding since they wanted to use him. Ultimately this is what caused the police to break their partnership with him b/c he was too damn expensive to keep on the payroll. -->Once he became decently popular he and the Devil’s Market started funding a superhero trade school to get people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get into hero schools for various reasons trained up and educated enough to get a hero license. -->As a hero he just doesn’t enforce the dumber laws like anti-public quirk use laws b/c who cares if people use their quirks if they aren’t hurting anyone. Also prefers not to label criminals as villains unless they’ve done some truly heinous shit b/c he knows that villains get harsher punishments in the justice system. Is also a strong proponent for rehabilitation for criminals. -->Once got caught in a scandal where he and a close friend and classmate managed to get a quirkless friend of theirs enrolled in their hero school with the help of a hacker. It took months for the school to catch on, during which said quirkless friend excelled in the hero classes. Fatgum and his friend nearly got expelled when caught. Later he helps that quirkless friend get a provisional hero license to become Japan’s first quirkless hero. -->From his family history, to his accent, to his size, to his ancestry Fatgum got torn apart by the media when he first started making waves. It took years but his image as a fun friendly beloved hero won out over ‘loose canon with criminal ties who’ll probably turn villain any day now’ -->Most of his sidekicks are folks he knew in his underground fighting days or rehabilitated criminals. Sidekicks and interns from actual hero schools are picked based on both potential as well as ‘how well can you bend the law/see in shades of grey instead of black and white?’. Essentially interning with Fatgum is a long process of unlearning propaganda and a practical application of morality on a case by case basis. -->Is aware of the hornier corners of his fandom and doesn’t know how to get them to understand that death via snusnu is not a way they want to go out (“How do you know this?” “...No comment.”) and telling them that they would def either die or require medical attention only makes them hornier. He finds it distressing and tries to avoid these people. -->Only found out that his name and birthday were puns when he was in middle school. He was not pleased. His parents had a blast since they were waiting for him to figure it out. -->When transformed his face, hands, feet, knees, and elbows are the most vulnerable parts of his body. Hence the leg armor (and occasionally arm armor). -->Due to his size, he’s got a few glaring blind spots, the main one being that he simply can’t see past his belly when looking down. He has tripped over short people b4 b/c of this. At least one of his friends from school would take advantage of this when he was in his larger form to sneak up on him.

[handwrittenhello]

where the road then takes me

Prompt: Law of Surprise Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Renfri, Geralt/Renfri, Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier & Renfri Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: When Jaskier runs into a pack of wild dogs while searching for his lost hen, he's lucky that Geralt is nearby to save him. But he has nothing to repay the witcher with except the Law of Surprise, and who do they find upon returning to the farm, but Jaskier's sister, Renfri, back early from marauding?

For @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo!

(ao3 link in reblog)

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Jaskier, eighteen, had grand dreams.

They were little more than dreams, unfortunately, because seeing as how he and Renfri had grown up fending for themselves, stuck in a tiny village on the border of Creyden, he didn’t have much opportunity to go to school or learn to play the lute or anything, really, besides tending to the farm while Renfri got… freelance work elsewhere. That was all he cared to know about it—she would leave, and return home every couple of weeks with a decent bag of coin and blood-spattered clothes, which Jaskier would bitch about cleaning. She made enough for them to live, though not comfortably—Renfri had kept him fairly sheltered, but he knew that they were one of the poorer households in town.

Which was why Jaskier only dreamed of traveling the Continent, singing songs and weaving grand tales for the commonfolk. Instead, he was stuck here chasing down their old hen again, after the coop had blown down in the storm for the fourth time. Henrietta was a sneaky fucker, already gone by the time he woke up in the morning. He cursed but pulled on his boots and stumbled out into the cold morning air to look for her.

He cursed all the way to the edge of the forest, where she’d apparently disappeared into, judging by the tracks and the few scattered feathers he found. “Damned hen. Ought to just eat you and be done with it,” he muttered, pulling his cloak tighter around him before heading into the forest.

He followed her trail as the sun slowly rose, stopping when he heard barking in the distance. Fuck, he hoped that was the hunters’ dogs—he hadn’t thought to bring a knife to defend himself with. Whatever it was, he trudged onwards, because they couldn’t afford to lose a hen. Renfri would kill him if—when—she found out.

And then he heard it—familiar squawking, accompanied by those same barks, louder. He crept closer and saw exactly what he’d feared—a pack of wild dogs circled Henrietta, one of them darting in every so often to snap at her slashing claws. She was fending them off pretty handily, actually—Jaskier knew how vicious she could be firsthand.

But the dogs would no doubt attack in force soon, and then she’d have no chance. Without thinking, Jaskier picked up a rock and threw it at the nearest one, hitting it square in the nose. It recoiled and turned its attention away from Henrietta, which was exactly what he wanted.

Unfortunately, it turned its attention towards him, which was exactly what he didn’t want. “Oh, fuck,” he spat, and turned tail as the pack gave chase.

He dashed over tree roots and fallen logs, blind stupid terror coursing through his veins. He had no plan beyond don’t get caught—and he could only run for so long before tiring. He threw a glance backward and saw that they were gaining on him—and fast.

Not looking where was going, he was taken completely by surprise when he slammed into something hard, bouncing off it and landing with an oof on the mossy ground.

Dazed and still half-blind with fear, he didn’t even notice that he’d slammed into a person until they moved, stepping over him and taking on the dogs with an easy confidence, sword swinging with preternatural force.

Two swords, armor, incredible speed and fighting skills? As the man finished dispatching the last of the pack and turned around to reveal mutated cat eyes set in a heavily scarred face, Jaskier realized who the man was. He sucked in a sharp breath.

The witcher sheathed his sword, holding out a hand as if to calm Jaskier. “It’s alright,” he rumbled, voice full of gravel. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Jaskier picked his jaw up from where it had dropped. “I know that,” he answered, getting to his feet and half-heartedly brushing the dirt off himself. “You’re a witcher.”

“I am. Usually fight more dangerous things than wild dogs, though. Also don’t usually see unaccompanied kids running around being chased by them.”

“I had to get their attention somehow. Henrietta was—wait, Henrietta!” Jaskier, remembered, abruptly spinning on his heel and dashing back to where the pack had cornered her.

“Wait!” the witcher called from behind him, but Jaskier paid him no heed.

He was gratified to see that while he’d been running for his life, Henrietta had seen fit to begin making herself a nest right in the same spot. “Oh, aren’t we cozy?” he grumbled, creeping closer in an attempt to grab her. He was almost upon her when the witcher ruined it, crashing through the underbrush behind him and sending her clucking away just as Jaskier pounced.

Jaskier sighed and turned to face the witcher, who at least had the good grace to look a little guilty. The guilt soon disappeared, though, when Jaskier rounded on him and began to lecture. “Now look what you’ve done. It’ll take me ages to catch her,” he complained, watching as the witcher’s eyes grew incredulous.

“You risked your life for that scrawny thing?” the witcher asked, amused disbelief coloring his tone.

“That scrawny thing is probably the most valuable thing we own, so yes,” Jaskier snapped. He couldn’t stand it when out-of-towners looked at him like that, like he was a stupid farm boy who knew little more than dirt and chickens. Which, to be fair, he didn’t, but it wasn’t as if he wanted it that way.

The witcher’s face cleared to something more akin to understanding—thank the gods it wasn’t pity. “Then I suppose I owe it to you to help catch her,” he said, and in the blink of an eye he’d snatched Henrietta up. Jaskier accepted her into his arms somewhat stunned.

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to stammer. The witcher said nothing in return, and they stood there for a long, awkward moment, before Jaskier realized he was probably waiting for something. “Oh! I don’t—I don’t have anything to pay you with…” he trailed off, recalling all the old adages, that witchers never worked for free. Fuck. Renfri wouldn’t be home for days if not weeks still, and the only coin he had he needed to save for the market day after tomorrow.

The witcher began to speak—what it was he was going to say, Jaskier didn’t know, but he interrupted as an idea struck him. “But I can offer you the Law of Surprise!” he suggested, recalling the ballads of children promised to witchmen. “We’ve a bitch due for pups soon—perhaps we’ll return home and you’ll find yourself with a companion to warm the long nights on the road!”

“Hmm,” the witcher replied, but it wasn’t a no, so he figured that it probably meant he wasn’t about to be forced into the witcher’s debt. Humming, he led the way back to the farmstead, the witcher a silent, hulking protector at his back.

Once they arrived, Jaskier was quick to secure Henrietta in the barn, where normally there would be pigs, but now, after sickness had taken their only sow, there was only dust and hay and the occasional mouse. He left Henrietta to her mouse hunting and led the witcher to the cottage, throwing open the door, excited to see what surprise he might find.

“Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought a witcher home?” asked Renfri, perched on the table and cleaning underneath her fingernails with one of her many knives.

Jaskier paled. “Renfri! You’re—you’re not meant to be home yet,” he choked out.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” she drawled, eyebrows knitting together. Jaskier, helpless, threw a glance back at the witcher, who was wearing a thunderous expression. Shit.

“I—not in this case, no,” Jaskier said tersely. “Fuck.”

“Some welcome,” she said faux-calmly, hopping down off the table. Jaskier recognized the tenseness in her form that spoke of a predator preparing to pounce. Sure enough, she lunged a moment later, her knife held a half-inch away from the witcher’s throat. Jaskier yelped. “Did he hurt you, Julek?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the witcher’s face.

“No, nothing of the sort, now put that down,” Jaskier hissed, tugging ineffectually at her arm. “He saved me, in fact, and…”

“And?” Renfri asked lowly.

“…and I may have promised him the Law of Surprise in return,” Jaskier finished all in a rush, wincing. “I swear, Ren, if I’d known…”

“That’s the thing about surprises,” the witcher interjected. “But you needn’t worry. I have no plans to claim your—sister?” Jaskier nodded. “As I said before, I need no payment.”

Renfri lowered her knife, and Jaskier breathed a bit easier for it. Renfri was a formidable fighter, but Jaskier doubted even her strength against a witcher. If a fight had broken out, he’d have had to—well, not help, because he was rather useless in a fight, but it was the principle of the matter.

“I suppose I could do worse for myself,” Renfri mused, looking Geralt over critically.

“Wait you’re—Renfri, he said he wouldn’t claim you, you don’t have to.”

“And what if I want to?” Renfri answered. “He seems a decent sort. And not too hard on the eyes, either.”

The witcher, looking uncomfortable, stood there and said nothing.

Jaskier threw his hands up. “You’re insane. And you!” he said, turning to the witcher. “Are you agreeing to this?”

“The life of a witcher isn’t well suited to… companionship,” the witcher replied, face twisted. “Walking the Path is difficult.”

“And if I promise that I can handle myself?” Renfri asked, twirling her knife in one of the many tricks she was proud of. “I’m no stranger to the road. It’s Jaskier you’d have to watch out for.”

“I resent that,” Jaskier said mildly, mostly out of principle. But the prospect was too exciting to dwell on it for long—was Renfri truly proposing that they set out with a witcher? “Ren, do you mean it?”

“If your witcher is fine with it, then I don’t see why not,” she replied. “What do you say, witcher?”

“Geralt,” the witcher corrected her. “If we’re to travel together, you ought to at least know my name.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeated. It rolled off the tongue wonderfully. “Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to write so many songs, just wait,” he gushed. “The Witcher and the Shrike—I can hear it now.”

Renfri pulled him out of his thoughts with a cuff to the shoulder. “Ow,” he said mildly. “Wait—you are planning on sharing, right?” he interjected. “Because, I mean, look at him.”

“Am I a toy to be shared among siblings?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a no, you don’t want to sleep with both of us? Because I’ll respect that, I will, but also, not to objectify you or whatever, but dear gods please, I think my poor heart might break if I didn’t get to fuck you at least once.”

“Jaskier! Leave my Husband Surprise alone,” Renfri said, shoving him away. “Go get packed. Essentials only!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Jaskier placated, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get up to anything while I’m gone, you lovebirds.”

As he left, Geralt turned to Renfri. “Is he always like this?”

“Yeah, he’s chronically stupid. Gets it from our father.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Don’t know, but it’s too late now. You’re stuck with us, witcher,” Renfri replied, looping an arm around Geralt’s.

Geralt made a show of sighing, but in truth, he wasn’t annoyed as all that. At least it would make life more interesting.