#i am losing my mind rn in case you’re wondering

[shadowkoo]

[folkloreguk]

Mirror, Mirror (m)

A/N: I will never ever determine which body type the reader has, but I want every single one of you to know that it’s okay to feel empowered by the way your nude body looks, you’re absolutely beautiful and no size is a limit to how sexy you can be!!! You go queens!

words: ~5.4 (I’m sorry idk how to write short things anymore asdfgh)

genre: smut, optional bias (male) x reader (female), kinda fwb??, sexting

[H/N means “his name”]

There’s no feeling quite like the one of trying on your new clothes that just arrived in the mail and loving how they looked. Especially when said clothes were lingerie and you felt like you could conquer the world, even when you were just standing in front of your mirror at 7 pm after you had just stuffed your stomach with lasagna. And what better way to enjoy your happiness than to share it with your best friend?

In fact, you had two best friends. One, a girl who you could trust with your life, and two, a boy who knew all your deepest secrets. One of the central differences between the two was that you would never think about asking the former about his opinion on your new lingerie. You almost laughed at the mere thought while you went through your contacts list and selected your friend’s name and clicked ‘send’. “It’s new. How do I look?” you typed and sent quickly, before throwing your phone onto you bed. You were feeling sexy, but for the rest of the evening there was only one way you wanted to feel: Comfortable. So, you changed into your pajamas instead.

You wondered what she would say about your photo. Sending almost-nudes to your friend might have seemed odd, but for the two of you, it was a completely normal occurrence. You loved making sure you both felt beautiful and confident by complimenting each other. Happily, you walked back to your room after you had picked up some snacks in the kitchen. You grabbed your phone as you plopped down on your bed. While you stuffed a handful of crisps into your mouth, you unlocked your phone to check your messages. You had expected a text from your best girl friend, but instead you had received one from H/N, your best boy friend. Pure horror consumed you when you clicked on the chat and saw your almost-nude there. Sent at 7:01 pm. Seen at 7:05 pm. And worst of all, he had replied before you could have clarified the mistake.

H/N: Idk where this came from but…you’re hot

You: SORRY THIS WASN’T MEANT FOR YOU

H/N: Okay that kinda offends me…you have a bf and didn’t tell me???

You: NO OMG THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING HELP…it was for GF/N just for fun!!!

H/N: Ohhh…in that case…

You watched the dots signaling that he was still writing while you were still wondering how you would ever look at him without getting embarrassed from now on. It wasn’t like the two of you never talked about sex. In fact, he knew a lot about what you liked and didn’t like in the bedroom. Not because he had witnessed it. But thanks to multiple sleep overs with late-night conversations, when your lips became a little loose, you had discussed more sexual topics than you had ever dreamt of. Your cheeks were still feeling hot when you received another text.

H/N: How do I look?

Without missing a beat, he had attached a photo of him. Shirtless. His hair was disheveled, as if he had just removed his shirt, which he probably had. His sweatpants hung low on his hips as he stood in front of a mirror. He had tilted his head a little, showing off his jawline while he gazed at the camera with hooded eyes. You felt more embarrassed with every second you kept staring at his body.

H/N: OMG sorry this wasn’t for you!!!!!

Now you could only laugh at his stupid message.

You: Stop making fun of me!!

H/N: I’m trying to make you feel better!! Do I not get a compliment?

You: Thanks and you look great…can we please NEVER bring this up in the future?

H/N: Sure if that’s what you want…but if you ever need someone to rate your underwear again you know where to find me

~~~

And he really kept his promise. The next time you hung out, he was joking about everything but your little accident. You were thankful. But not mentioning the memory didn’t automatically delete it from your brain. And that’s where your newest problem begun.

You had never really looked at him in a sexual way before – sure, you thought he was handsome – but after than one damned picture he had sent you, you seemed to see him in a completely different light. There were no romantic feelings involved. But something felt profusely wrong about the way you thought about sex when he reached for a glass on the highest kitchen shelf and a small part of his abs was revealed. Or the way you instinctively licked your lips when you watched him stretch his neck in front of you. Or how your head spun when he lifted his shirt to wipe away his sweat when you worked out together.

One day was particularly bad. He had asked you to go to the public pool together, and being his best friend, of course you had said yes. As expected, he made you laugh until you were crying, scream when he playfully wrestled you in the water and giggle when he chased you on the water slide. And yet, you couldn’t help but notice his body. You almost felt bad, but then again, it wasn’t like you adored his character any less. You simply had some added adoration for another part of him. What were you supposed to do when he looked this good acting out a comic character while you played charades in the water? You might have been laughing on the outside, but you could barely tear your eyes off his neck and chest. Lately, you realized, the amount of thoughts you spent on wanting to kiss him had become problematic to you.

When you returned home at night, you couldn’t deny feeling sexually frustrated. Not wanting to give in to the inappropriate thoughts about your best friend, you turned on a tv show to distract yourself. But before you knew it, you were spending more time looking at your phone than at the tv screen. At first you browsed social media, but somehow you mustn’t have payed enough attention to your unconscious mind. You had miraculously landed on his Instagram, and when that didn’t entertain you anymore, you found yourself going back to your text messages with him. When you started at the shirtless picture he had sent you, you regretted not deleting it and forgetting about it right away. You wondered if he could ever feel the same way about you. You didn’t need any romantic feelings from him, in fact, you had no interest in a relationship at the moment. But you had never wanted someone this bad before and it was driving you crazy. So, before you could have stopped yourself, you were typing a message to him.

You: what r u doing??

H/N: do you miss me already?

H/N: ok do you really wanna know?

You: shut up you usually message me first!! and yes I do

H/N: I was about to jack off but you interrupted me

You almost choked on nothing when you read his message. Pretending you didn’t care, you replied quickly.

You: oh no am I killing the mood?

H/N: I didn’t say that

You: ????

H/N: don’t take this the wrong way but if you ever thought about sending me nudes again now would be the time

You: are u crazy?? are you actually asking me for nudes rn

H/N: it was worth a try ok let’s go back to being best friends who would never hook up

If you were freaking out about his previous messages, this one made you lose your mind completely. What was he saying? As confused as you were, you were also equally as sexually frustrated as he seemed to be. So, without a second thought, you chose the latest underwear picture you had taken and sent it to H/N.

You: that’s the most you’ll get…I won’t send complete nudes

You stared at the three dots indicating that he was writing a message. It felt like five minutes had passed when he finally replied.

H/N: fuck you’re so hot

And then he sent another shirtless picture. His bulge was prominent against his pants and the sight of it didn’t exactly help you with the pent-up frustration inside of you. But maybe it didn’t need to, because apparently, he felt the same way about you. You wanted to tell him about it. But there was no way you would be sexting your best friend at 11 pm, horny and frustrated. You knew you’d regret it and you’d only end up being embarrassed the next day. With no idea what to send him instead, you opted for simply waiting to see if he would say something. But he didn’t. Whilst waiting, you looked at his picture again. His jawline, his shoulders, his abs…and his boner straining against his sweatpants. For a moment you wondered if he was thinking about you too. Was he imagining it was you who was touching him when his hand wrapped around his cock? The more you let your thoughts run free, the worse your frustration became. And before you knew it, your hand was between your legs.

~~~

The next day you went about your duties, trying hard to pretend the previous day had been nothing but a fever dream. Luckily, you weren’t going to see him for another few days, so you could already practice an explanation of why sending nudes to each other had been a crazy idea. You worried about whether you could ever be the same around him after what had happened. But no matter how hard you tried to come up with a good reason why you should never even mention it again, you couldn’t. You were best friends who found each other hot. So what? Things could be worse. By nighttime, you had changed your mind. You were in the process of getting ready for sleeping, when your phone vibrated on your nightstand. His name lit up the screen.

H/N: you up?

You: not for long…whats up

H/N: I’m sorry for what I said yesterday about us not hooking up and so on…I was tipsy and you know my loose lips when I’m drunk

You: there’s nothing you need to apologize for

H/N: I was being weird and creepy…you’re my best friend

You: and you’re mine…that doesn’t stop me from finding you attractive

H/N: so I didn’t creep you out asking you for nudes?

You: I sent them to you, didn’t I… so what do u think

H/N: btw…thanks for that

You: likewise

…

H/N: so you’d do it again?

You: you’re not drunk now are you?

H/N: no just horny

You: dude I was about to go to sleep

If this had been a random guy you were occasionally talking to, you would have declined the request right away. You were tired and didn’t exactly feel too confident in your physical state. Nonetheless, you walked over to your mirror, pulled your shirt up until your bare breasts were almost exposed, and snapped a picture. Maybe it was the fact that you knew he’d return the favor and send you something back, or the immense trust you had in him. Posing in different ways, you took a few more pictures before you jumped back onto your bed. Impulsively, you chose the pictures you liked best and sent them to your best friend.

You: the things I do for you

H/N: fuck you look so good

You: have you always thought like that about me?

H/N: have I always found you hot?

You: yeah

H/N: I mean I never not found you hot

You: thanks I guess??

H/N: maybe we should have done this way earlier

You: agreed

Your eyes widened when he sent you a picture. He was still in his underwear, but his hand was wrapped around his visibly hard member outlined by the dark fabric. You had wanted to sleep, but somehow after looking at the photo for a little too long, you were wide awake. Leaning against the headboard of the bed, you let your head imagine whatever came to your mind. Never before had you noticed how much you liked his hands. Or maybe it was a temporary thing, now that you were already thinking inappropriate thoughts. You imagined it was his fingers softly touching the inside of your thigh, squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples. The first time you moaned his name quietly, your cheeks heated up. But the more you thought of him, and the more you allowed yourself to wish it was him between your thighs, the more natural his name sounded between your whimpers.

And the two of you didn’t stop there. You might haven’t had time to hang out with him for another week or so, but you were texting each other more than ever before. Almost every night, you sent pictures to each other. With every passing day and every time you came thinking about his body on top of yours, you became more comfortable. Your messages to each other turned dirtier with every day and every picture was a little riskier than the previous one. By the way you cried out his name every night, your neighbors must have thought you had gotten a new boyfriend. One that was exceptionally good in bed, by the sounds of it.

Now it was exactly one week and a day after you had first sent him a picture of you. You had just stepped out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around your body as you entered your bedroom.

One could’ve thought you were going to be less horny, the more time you spent texting him about your inappropriate thoughts. It should have gotten less exciting at some point, shouldn’t it? To you, it was the complete opposite. He was all your thought about at night. So when you noticed your phone on your bed, you couldn’t stop your urge. You grabbed it, unlocked it and went straight to your messages with him.

You: please tell me you’re alone

H/N: yeah I am…do u need something?

Even though his text might have sounded innocent to anyone else, considering what you had done for each other all week long, you instantly got excited.

You: I have a present for you but since you’re not here I’ll unwrap it for you

H/N: I love presents

You had taken multiple photos. Starting from your with a towel covered body, you had slowly revealed more skin to him, until you had dropped the fabric completely. In the last picture you were covering your nipples with one hand across your chest, making sure your slightly parted lips were in the frame as well. After you had pressed ‘send’, you got comfortable on your bedsheets, not so patiently waiting for his reply. You hadn’t been able to get him off your mind while you had been showering. Now you didn’t even need to touch yourself to know how dripping wet you already were.

H/N: this is what you do to me

You were surprised when you saw his message. He had attached a video. Up to that day, it had only been photos you had sent to each other. So, when you clicked the ‘play’ button, you almost felt nervous. But the nervousness changed into something wholly different within the first two seconds of the video. His hand was down his pants, clearly stroking himself. He wasn’t speaking, but even the simple sound of his breathing behind the camera made your head spin.

H/N: do you want more?

You: I wish you were actually here

A blink of an eye after you had sent the message, instant regret hit you. Had you crossed a line? There had never been serious talk of the two of you actually hooking up, although you surely had thought about it more than you wanted to admit.

H/N: me too

You sighed in relief. So he wasn’t thinking you were going too far.

H/N: but its late and we’ve got work tomorrow

You barely had time to even think about a reply. The sole fact that he was seriously considering coming over or letting you drive to his place right now only justified the saying “People want what they can’t get”.

You: you’re right…this will have to do

…

H/N: let me know if you need more

But you already had your hand between your legs, his name on the brink of falling off your lips.  

The next day, you were surprisingly focused on your work. Of course, you thought of him. He was your best friend, after all. Who would you have been if you didn’t wonder what he was up to or if you didn’t wish he was having a nice day? But that was about it. No dirty thoughts, no random sexual frustration at 2 in the afternoon. That was, until your phone vibrated in your pockets and you opened his message.

H/N: wanna hang out at my place tonight?

It was finally Friday. After over a week of not seeing him, you didn’t just want to meet him because you wanted him sexually. You missed his silly jokes and the way he made you feel careless after a stressful day. So, needless to say, you agreed.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen. Were you just going to hang out, the way friends do? Were you even going to mention your texts to each other? Your nerves were going mad when you drove to his place in the evening. It was a weird feeling to have about your best friend, you had to admit. But then again, you had every right to after the past week.

When he opened the door for you, you didn’t feel half as awkward as you thought you would. His hug felt the way it always did, and his room still was like a second home to you.

“Do you wanna order take out?” he asked.

“What’s in your fridge?” you returned the question.

“If I’d have to guess I’d say two eggs, half a bottle of soda and some yogurt,” he said. You laughed, already pulling up an app to order some food.

“Take out it is,” you grinned, falling onto your stomach on his bed. He followed your example. His shoulder was touching yours while you tried hard to focus on scrolling through the different offers of meals. But your look was drawn to his hands too close to yours and from one moment to the other, your mind was flooded with sinful pictures. You thought of him here, in this very bed, jerking off to the thought of you. Taking pictures of himself so you could do the same. Too many times you had imagined your face buried in his pillows, letting him hear the way you had been crying his name all week long, being able to make him cum with your own body and feeling his lips on your skin. Was he thinking the same things right now? Was he also struggling to focus on the simplest tasks?

“You’ve been looking at that chicken for a while now. Are you gonna order it or not?” he asked, making fun of you. How were you going to sit here, waiting and then calmly eating your dinner as if nothing was different? When you didn’t reply, he grabbed your hands along with your phone, making you look at him. You couldn’t instantly read his expression. All you knew is that in six years of friendship, he had never once looked at you this way. Inevitably, your eyes went to his lips and back to his eyes.

“Aren’t we going to mention this whole nudes-sending situation at all?” he suddenly asked, grinning cheekily. “What? You’re thinking about it too, aren’t you?”

You swallowed thickly. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

“How badly I wanted you last night,” he said. His face was close to yours. If you only bent forward slightly, you could kiss him.

“As in…now you don’t want me anymore?” you asked. He chuckled.

“Do you really think I didn’t want to push you against the closest wall and make out with you the second you stepped into my house today?” he asked.

“Then why didn’t you?” you asked, smirking and inching your lips closer to his. “Because I would have loved that.”

Instead of answering you, he finally leaned in to connect your lips. Within the first seconds you were moaning, and his tongue was on yours. You abandoned your phone on his sheets, swinging one leg over his waist to straddle him. He groaned into your mouth when you pushed your hips against his, your crotch rubbing over his bulge. Judging by the way you both reacted, neither of you had plans to take this slow.

His hands wandered over your sides and to your ass, squeezing it a little. You only moaned again, your fingers getting busy with his button up shirt. Teasingly, he bit your lip while he pushed your shirt higher, goosebumps rising on the skin he touched. His breathing became heavier when you let your hands roam his chest, pushing the fabric of his open shirt to the side eagerly. When you rolled your hips over his bulge again, you felt his erection more prominently than before, making you smile to yourself. For a moment you pulled away and pulled your shirt over your head.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he confessed, watching as you discarded your bra onto the floor.

“Me too,” you agreed. He had sat up as well, and you helped him remove his shirt eagerly. “I’ve been wondering what your hands feel like.”

At your words, he pulled you back on top of him, playing with your breasts softly. You reacted, leaning over him, so he could take one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered at the way his tongue pressed against your sensitive skin. He gave the same attention to the other side, his breath leaving behind a cold sensation where he had kissed you.

Then, you bent to his level again, lips meeting in a needy kiss. You let his tongue lead yours for a while. Meanwhile, your hands sneaked to the waistband of his sweatpants. He hissed into your mouth as you grabbed his length through his pants, palming him through the fabric.

“Are you still into biting?” you asked, referring to a late-night talk you had had in the past. He smirked, nodding. Softly, at first, you nibbled on his neck, occasionally licking and kissing him. You got the exact reaction you had expected when you bit him, not to harshly, but probably leaving a purple mark nonetheless. He moaned and threw his head back, only exposing more of his neck to you. As time went on, you made your way down his chest and his stomach, settling between his legs. As much as you enjoyed hearing his moans and attempts to make you hurry, you were just as impatient, if not worse.

In one go, you pulled down his pants and underwear. He lifted his hips so you could fully take the clothing off his legs. Your mouth watered at the sight of him below you.

“If you had told me two weeks ago, I would be sucking your dick today, I would have called you a clown,” you chuckled.

“Look how the tables have turned,” he said, laughing with you. But his expression hardened the moment your hand wrapped around his length. You stroked him a few times, before lowering your head. Your tongue licked a stripe up the side of his shaft, until you opened your lips just enough to take his tip into your mouth. He cursed under his breath when you batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” you asked, your hand continuously touching him.

“I like it maybe a little too much,” he said, only making you grin. His expression read pleasure, his brows furrowed and his lips hung slightly agape.

“There’s no such thing as liking something too much,” you said. Purposely, you watched his face when you wrapped your mouth around his cock, tongue pressing flat against the tip. Steadily, you bobbed your head, your hand covering the rest of his length. His thighs were flexing under your hands and his stomach was rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. He propped himself up on his forearms, watching you intently.

“This feels so much better when you do it,” he said, followed by a groan when his cock touched the back of your throat for a moment. Your hand was covered in your saliva by now, eyes tearing up a little bit, but you blinked the tears away quickly. Every time you pulled away a little, you made sure to swirl your tongue around the tip. Right away, you had noticed the way he hissed at that specific action. Again, he cursed under his breath and you made eye contact once more. His lips looked pink from where he had been biting them and his cheeks were slightly flushed a rosy color.

“Oh my god-,“ he moaned. “I’m so fucking close.”

You bobbed your head faster now. After another few seconds you pulled away, replacing your mouth with your hand. The muscles on his stomach were tense and he had his hands balled to tight fists next to his body. You enjoyed his moans for a while longer, before you could feel him twitch in your hands. When he reached his high, he let his body fall back, his arms no longer able to hold himself up to watch you. The evidence of his pleasure spilled onto his abs and you slowly let your hand come to a rest. One of his hands was swung over his forehead as he breathed heavily. When you looked up at him again, he still seemed exhausted but was grinning from ear to ear.

“Give me a second and I’ll return the favor,” he said, sitting up. At his words you realized once more how much you wanted him. Quickly, he cleaned himself up. As you rolled over to lay on your back next to his sitting figure, you yawned briskly, getting comfy in his sheets.

“You’re bored? If you want we can also just watch a movie, or if you feel like-,“ he said with raised eyebrows.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” You sarcastically laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m open for whatever. Right after you’ve made me cum on this mattress.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, turning so he hovered over you. “I think we can arrange that.”

He went straight to kissing your stomach and hips, while he unzipped your pants for you. His kisses tickled you a little, but the sensation was quickly forgotten by how close his hand was to where you wanted him most. In order to let him take off your pants, you lifted your hips a little. When he had thrown your pants aside, he couldn’t hide the cocky grin on his face at the sight of your underwear.

“This looks familiar…where have I seen these before?” he asked innocently, placing his hand on the material. You flinched a little when his fingers hovered over your center. It was a fleeting touch, but the lack of attention had made you needier than you would have thought.

“Imagine I hadn’t accidentally sent you that first picture,” you said.

“I don’t even want to imagine that,” he said, his dramatic tone making you laugh a little. Abruptly, your laugh turned into a whimper when he pressed one of his fingers against your covered clit.

“I get that you’re in no rush anymore, but I’m not gonna lie, I am,” you said, wriggling against his hand. He chuckled again but seemed to obey your request. His hand slid into the hem of your underwear, fingers instantly coated in your juices. In response, you only hummed contently when he curled his digits against your clit. Within seconds you relaxed into his touch. You put one of your arms under your head and closed your eyes for a while. Now and then, he teased your core by almost pushing his fingers inside of you, but then not doing so. As frustrating as it was, you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. With skill, he rolled your clit between his digits. His free hand pulled on your underwear slightly, but not quite enough for it to come off. You whined at his teasing, looking into his eyes with a pleading gaze. He watched your expression for a while, probably enjoying the fact that he finally had the real you underneath him, instead of having to stare at some photos on his cellphone. So he finally obliged, making you feel empty when he pulled his hand out of your soaked panties, but simultaneously thankful.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined doing this within the last week,” he said. Then, he lowered his head and took your clit into his mouth. You had only opened your mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be deleted from your brain before they had time to come out, replaced by empty curse words. He didn’t waste any time in taking it slow, but you couldn’t have minded less. When he inserted to of his digits into you, your toes curled in pleasure and relief. With the way you whimpered desperately whenever he curled them against your walls, he had found your sweet spot in almost no time.

For more than a week you had been imagining, demanding for his touch, so deeply that now you could barely think straight when you finally got what you wanted. His tongue could do so much better than your own fingers could ever satisfy you. It was the unpredictability that made this so much more enticing than when you touched yourself. Would he slow down for a while, giving your breathing time to calm down, only to suck on your swollen clit feverishly out of nowhere? Would he curl his fingers inside of you almost painfully slowly, or would he almost pull them out completely, only to slide them right back into your core, until your vision felt so blurry you had to close your eyes? The more you thought about how good he made you feel, the quicker you felt your orgasm approach. One of his hands softly stroked over your belly, a strong contrast to the way your insides seemed to tie themselves into a tight knot that took up all your attention.

“Oh my god- please don’t stop,” you only moaned. Of course he didn’t. He only hummed against your center, only adding to how incredible you felt. As much as you loved watching him between your legs, there was no force that could have kept your eyes from shutting anymore. Your back arched off the sheets and your hands tightened in pleasure when the familiar feeling washed over your mind. You whimpered and struggled hard to keep your legs from closing around his head. For a few seconds you were blinded by the bliss, until your sensitivity began to set in. You softly pushed his head with your fingers in his hair, and he slowed down and drew back.

It took you a while to come down and until your breathing had regained its normality. Your eyelids fluttered open, while he plopped down next to you. He swung one of his arms around your waist, an action he had done multiple times in the past – only now neither of you was wearing clothes.

“That was amazing,” you said. “And here I thought I’d forever regret sending you that photo.”

He chuckled. “Agreed. So, what do you say? Are we able to focus on what to order for takeout now?”

You nodded and laughed, hoping this instance wouldn’t be the last time this happened between you two.

[4dtk]

b’day boy

anon: “hi hi hi hi!!! how’re you!! idk if you’re requests are on but!!! can i request smth where jaehyun thinks the reader forgot abt this bday bc she didn’t text him all day but she actually flys to seoul to see him?? basically johnny helped surprise him!!” quick pretend johnny is living on the same floor as jaehyun for this fic. enjoy anon! :-)

“hey! happy birthday, man,” johnny greets jaehyun, slapping him on the back as the birthday boy answers with a nod and a tired smile.

the dorm’s still quiet in the morning, save for the boiling water and the white noise from beyond the flat. the taller male doesn’t miss the way jaehyun’s smile drops, eyeing his phone a meter away from him in case the plan’s busted.

“hm… hyung, have you heard from (y/n) lately? i haven’t gotten her breakfast text, which is weird…”

jaehyun exits the messaging app for the umpteenth time, seeing if there was anything wrong with the internet or with his phone itself.

johnny shakes his head at the question, going back to prepare his coffee as he struggles to hold back a smile.

“sorry, jae, i’m not so sure about that.”

he saves his phone as it lit up right as you messaged, spamming to the poor guy about nerves and bizarre situations due to your overthinking mind.

(y/n) the homie: ?????? what ???? the hell do i wear!!!!!!!!

(y/n) the homie is typing…

(y/n) the homie: i’m trying to hard rn not to click on jaehyun’s name lol

(y/n) the homie: unnnnf i feel so bad johnny

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: u know for someone that has my contact name in wack ass emojis, i’m not gonna help you fashion-wise

johnny 🔥🥱🕴:  don’t worry k, plus it was ur idea!!!! how’s the packing coming along

(y/n) the homie: haha very funny, i am already on the plane mf

“john, hyung, you already made the reservation for tonight yea?” jaehyun asks sleepily, getting up from his comfy position on the table solely to get a chance at johnny’s coffee.

the other hums, having had made reservations for 12 people. sicheng was joining the boys for dinner tonight and taeyong was bringing his girlfriend as well, leaving one last seat for you.

one last text catches johnny’s attention, hoping all will turn out well tonight.

(y/n) the homie: i’m taking off rn, pls follow the plan or i think i’ll actually cry

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: is typing…

johnny 🔥🥱🕴:  overdramatic. i will, just focus on getting to korea safe yea

you leave it as that, buckling in and settled in quick well once the plane had reached a certain altitude.

the present you prepared couldn’t leave your mind, debating here and there whether jaehyun would like it or not.

would something go wrong? we didn’t fight before this, did we?

your thoughts travel everywhere, trying your best to relax while you find a film to distract you. soon, you ease into the movie and then, into a comfortable sleep.

it’s almost evening when the captain announces the landing in a few more minutes, bringing you to open the window.

although the clouds seemed to dance around the plane and the deep blue of the sky takes over the day, the sight provides little comfort as you practice your korean in the plane.

you repeat the restaurant’s address in your head even through immigration, steps unknowingly speeding up at how excited you were.

on the other hand, jaehyun gets more and more worried at the lack of texts, eyeing the single one sent early in the morning at 3am, while you bid each other goodbye on facetime. nothing seems to get him out of his daze, having been reminded several times of the car that was waiting for him.

as the manager wishes him a happy birthday, jaehyun could only thank him half-heartedly, staring down at his phone with a frown.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: oh man you gotta have like a full on dance number when u enter or something. your mans can’t stop sighing at his phone like it’s a magic mirror

(y/n) the homie: oh nooo, crap, i feel so bad. i’m omw, gotta thank u for going over my korean before this flight

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you learnt it from the best

(y/n) the homie: 🙄🙄🙄

your eyes pass through many different shops and districts, observing the busy streets of korea and it’s liveliness and wondering if you will ever be up to living in such an exciting country.

it was a long drive, your feet unable to stop moving while you kept yourself calm by counting the exchanged money over and over. a notification from @johnnyjsuh lights up your phone and brings you out of your anxiety for a bit, the instagram story filling up the screen as he records the grand restaurant that they would be dining in.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you here?

(y/n) the homie: yes, almost. this person right here is very jumpy and tense

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: breathe, i’ll give u the green light soon

(y/n) the homie: kk

with one foot out the cab, you find yourself needing to calm your heart, feeling the familiar heat and adrenaline rush through your body at seeing your boyfriend.

you eye your phone for the last time, entering on johnny’s cue to surprise jaehyun. with his back turned to the event room, your lips naturally curl into a smile as you watch him through the glass panel.

the gentle jazz pouring from the speakers give the atmosphere its intended ambience, as the boys catch up with sicheng and others converse with each other. they keep their cool according to plan as you enter silently, the gift clutched under your arm tightly.

“guess who?”

with your hands over his eyes, you can almost feel his shock.

“what... no way,” jaehyun’s jaw drops, gaining some laughs from the members as he turns around rapidly. his latches onto your smile, the corners of his lips slowly stretching into a grin before you stumble back at his embrace.

jaehyun holds you tight, as if you’d vanish once you left this room. his arms were wound around you all the way by the next minute, leaving you with no opportunity to breathe.

“babe, i can’t breathe,” you blurt out, making the male release you almost immediately before you attack with your own hug, loving how you could feel the rumble of his chest as he giggled.

“was everyone in on this?” you nodded as he turned to his members, most of them donning bright, sly smiles and jungwoo even winking when he met his eyes.

“y’all are incredible,” jaehyun throws his head back in laughter, an arm naturally encircling your waist as you pile your present with the other’s, making your way to your seat after.

dinner is filled with joviality and loud conversation, even coaxing johnny into revealing that he was the ringleader of the plan. the birthday boy applauds his subtlety, bringing the night to a close an hour or two later as each member finishes their share of the cake.

“i’ll come in later, you guys should head back first,” jaehyun states, pressing a kiss to your temple as the others bid you goodbye.

the lean into your boyfriend feels natural, the cool breeze brushing past your face as he interrogates you about you ghosting him.

“i was so worried, i honestly thought you forgot about me.”

you chuckle, “do you think i really could? when there’s valentine decorations everywhere? i wouldn’t forget it even if it wasn’t valentine’s,” you mused, matching up with jaehyun’s steps.

“it would be sad if my own girlfriend couldn’t remember when i was born.”

the two of you fall quiet, enjoying each other’s company as you stroll around the park near the restaurant.

“say, did you like the surprise?”

“like? baby, i loved it,” jaehyun pulls you in, the walk stopped short while he holds your freezing fingers, “thank you.”

you answer in the form of a smile, tippy-toeing to reach his lips halfway as the moon shines on. it settles your heart in familiarity and warmness, never losing that giddy fondness whenever you were with jaehyun.

“i’d travel anywhere to be where you are, jung jaehyun.”

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Chapter 12

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: No clue how I got this chapter out hella fast despite losing it all, but it was so fun to write lol! I hope you guys like it, please send me asks with feedback! I’m really excited for the next chapters!

(masterlist)

Once you heard the click of your door gently closing, you released a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding. You looked to your ceiling as your heart raced with your brain actively trying to calm it down.

Your phone was still vibrating, but you knew it was a call this time. You didn’t have the nerves to answer it, however, and simply looked at the various texts Ashido had sent you. The first was from around noon today:

I’m on my date with Kirishima right now and I am freaking out!!

She vaguely narrated her emotions before a more significant one showed up at 2:00pm.

Where are you?? I want to tell you and Hagakure everything!!!!

You smiled, happy you were now included with her list of what you assumed was best friends. Just before you got home, she texted you a series of question marks.

????

Where are you!?!

And then the flood of texts when you came home.

Were you??

Omg

Were you really went on a date with Bakugou?

Sir explodey???

Why did you not tell me about your date with Bakugou!!

You smiled fondly at your friend’s jokes and knew the rest of your night would be filled with her and Hagakure. Genuinely, it was exciting to know you would spend you night with the two excitable girls. Not only were you ecstatic that you could hear about Ashido’s actual date today, but your stomach flipped at the idea of finally telling them about you and Bakugou.

If there was even anything between you and Bakugou.

It felt a little wild that your relationships with your classmates had grown so much so quickly. You spent a moment reminiscing about living in America and how much time you really spent by yourself. It definitely helped that you lived in a dorm with them too.

Drawing yourself away from your thoughts, you texted her back:

It wasn’t a date!!

But I am on my way downstairs rn

You hastily changed out of your nicer outfit and into shorts and a sweater, something perfect for the sleepover vibes you were hoping for today. Only for a moment did you debate taking out your earbuds; you did not want to become stressed by overthinking. They really were hurting at this moment and you were sure everything would be okay.

You took your earbuds off and placed them into their case that had been in your backpack. You then pocketed the case in the front pocket of your sweater. Just in case. You ears thanked you as you rubbed them and you tried your best to ignore the thoughts rushing into your head.

You can do this, you told yourself. Half of it was because of your classmates thoughts rushing into your head, and half was because of the nerves you still had from today. It had been quite some time since you went a long period without earbuds and you feared getting a headache, but the risk was well worth it considering how your ears were begging for a break.

You took in a deep breath and told yourself to finally go!

Slowly and quietly, you opened your door, almost afraid that Bakugou would be watching you.

With no one in sight, you rushed down the stairs, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made an elevator ride seem like the worst and longest possible thing. You fled down the stairs, running on the tips of your feet to make the least amount of noise.

Once downstairs you rushed to your friends with a beaming smile.

“Hi!” You exclaimed as you plopped down onto the couch.

“Well aren’t you smiley,” Hagakure immediately commented, making heat flush up your neck.

You couldn’t help it. You had a great day with Bakugou and a productive one to boot. That and you were about to spend the night with your current closest friends. Although you started out wanting to just forget your feelings, you could absolutely get used to the way he talks to you and time you spend together.

You replied to Hagakure’s comment by just deepening your smile and shrugging. “Ashido! You have to tell me how it went!” You looked to the pink girl, who had a grin just as wide as yours. That’s a good sign. That and she wasn’t currently crying in her room. “Should we get snacks and go up to someone’s room?” You suggested.

“Yes!” Ashido replied, “That sounds perfect!” The girl immediately stood up and practically skipped over to the kitchen which was still occupied by students.

Each of you moved around silently. You grabbed three cups and a bottle of soda while Hagakure and Ashido grabbed their desired snacks to bring from the pantry. You were still quite full from your late lunch, but knew that this night would go long.

As your hands held onto the cool glass cups and plastic bottle, you imagined how tonight would be going.

It will be great! You decided as Ashido and Hagakure walked out of the pantry with two bags of chips and a box of fruit gummies. You felt the giddiness in your stomach rise as the girls approached you. Silently, you all walked to the elevator, arms full and eyes shining.

“We can go to my room,” Ashido explained as she reached out to press the appropriate floor.

The same floor with Kirishima and Bakugou, you silently noted as the doors closed and the elevator began to rise.

When the doors opened to your and Ashido’s floor, the first thing you saw was Bakugou walking towards you. Shock ran through your veins as the three of your exited before the doors closed and then stood still. It must have been quite the sight to see the three of you, practically in pajamas with hands full of snacks.

If it wasn’t clear from that image that you three were going to be talking about boys the whole night, then Bakugou sure must be an idiot.

“Tch,” He scoffed as his hand found the doorknob to Kirishima’s room.

Wait, you thought and you quizzically stared at him. Were he and Kirishima also going to talk about girls?

At the very least, you were sure that they would be talking about Ashido.

Bakugou gave you a knowing smirk. Looks like those two idiots finally got together, huh? Surely you helped them.

Your eyes widened. No one had noticed you weren’t wearing your earbuds yet except for Bakugou.

Obviously I can see you without them, you idiot. I’m always looking. His eyes squinted at you and silently gasped in response.

The blond barked out a small laugh, before opening Kirishima’s door and leaving you three in the hall like dumbstruck idiots. You knew he was directing his laugh at your shocked face, but the girls probably just thought it was at their wild appearance.

“Weird,” Hagakure laughed as she became the first to start walking to Ashido’s room. You and the pink girl followed quickly behind.

Once inside, you all immediately dropped the snacks off on the bed and desk. Before anyone had a chance to speak, Ashido turned to face you.

“Before I get started,” She began, “I just have to say…

You gulped down the lump in your throat. From her thoughts alone, you could tell she was upset and hurt.

“How dare you not tell either of us that you were going on a DATE with frickin’ BAKUGOU??” Her anger roared through the room and you were sure Bakugou could hear his name being spoken.

“It wasn’t a date,” You responded meekly, knowing full well how it looked when you walked into the dorms, a smile plastered on your face and Bakugou held the door open for you.

Ashido scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Sure it wasn’t,” She accused, sarcasm dripping off every word. “We will get to you later, missy,” She promised before jumping onto her bed and grabbing a bag of fruit snacks.

“Anyways,” Hagakure spoke, breaking the silent tension that had formed. “Please! Tell us about your date with Kirishima!” She practically begged as she sat down at the desk and began pouring herself a drink.

“Well,” Ashido giggled, “If you insist.” The smile on her face that had been there since you met her downstairs was a clear indicator of the results. You, however, still wanted to hear every juicy detail she could remember.

You sat down on the bed across from Ashido, certain this story would be long enough to hurt your legs if you stayed standing.

“I asked him Friday night if he wanted to go out. Well,” She corrected, “I texted him. Let me show you.” She whipped out her phone and moved so all of you could read it. Despite this, Ashido read it aloud as well.

“Hey, Kiri! And then a cute heart emoji.” She pointed at the emoji on her phone. “I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch tomorrow or Sunday? I found this new café a few blocks away from school and really wanted to try it out with you!”

“Then he said…”

“Sure! I would love too! Sunday works best.”

“Then I said—”

“Ashido, we can read it,” Hagakure sassed. You sincerely didn’t mind her reading the texts, it was a cute commentary addition.

“Shush!” Ashido retorted before turning back to her phone, not letting Hagakure get another word in. She pressed her off button and the screen went black. She moved to be sitting normally again and continued, “So anyways we set up a time. And we were having great conversations on our walk. I had decided from the very beginning to bring up dating him after we leave the café. So, we just chat and it’s nice and he’s so sweet and cute and—”

“Ashido,” You interrupt, unable to hide your laughter and her rambling. The girl stopped and looked at you, her eyes wide as if unsure why you stopped her. “You were getting off topic.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Sorry! Anyways, we get there, and it turns out it wasn’t just a normal café, it was a cat café! So, we buy an hour and get our drinks and snacks and it was so much fun. Seeing him with those cats was like, amazingly adorable.” She stops talking for a moment to eat some of the fruit gummies. “Also! He literally bought all the drinks and food and he refused to take any of my money which was so sweet. And I feel like he kinda knew? Like, he knew this was more than just two friends hanging out.”

“What do you mean by that?” You asked before getting up to pour yourself a glass of soda.

“Like, he seemed so nervous an quiet at the beginning, but luckily he started warming up after he saw all the cats. Except a couple times he would get super silent and just look at me with this wistful smile. It’s hard to explain, but yeah.”Ashido described. “Oh, and I wore this really cute dress and sneakers with some clips in my hair and he complimented me with this goofy smile on his face. Even he dressed up nicely in a red, short-sleeve button up.

“Oh, wow,” Hagakure mumbles. “So when did you tell him?”

“After the hour was up, we decided to not pay for another hour and just go,” Ashido explained, “They were also super crowded and busy. However, instead of just heading back home we walked to the nearby riverbank and sat on the grass hill. It was so amazing because it was covered in flowers and the sun felt so nice. Kirishima looked so great. Honestly, we ended up taking some photos because it was just a gorgeous time of day.”

“Okay? But when did you confess?” Hagakure repeated. She was getting quite impatient and wiggling around in the chair.

You laughed as Ashido shushed her. “Let me be happy!” She retorted with a glint of humor. Despite her tone, it was clear she didn’t mean anything horrible and you laughed even harder.

“Fine,” The invisible girl groaned and pouted in her chair.

You were tempted to retort and tease Hagakure about Ojiro, but decided not to change the topic when you were getting to the most interesting parts of Ashido’s story.

“So anyways,” Ashido began once more. “When we were done taking photos, we just started talking about this or that, it was very pleasant. Like, he was telling me about his goals after school and he seemed so excited and passionate, it was great.” She paused for a moment and looked at each of us before continuing. “All of the sudden,” Her voice grew louder and her wide eyes put you on the edge of your seat in anticipation.

This has to be the moment! You thought.

“A cart ran by with roses and Kirishima jumped up immediately and ran to buy a half-bouquet. It was like out of a movie!” Ashido exclaimed, her hands coming up to touch her cheeks as they grew a deeper shade of pink that her typical skin tone.

“Awww” Hagakure sighed.

“I know!” Ashido exclaimed. “So after he gave me the flowers, I was blushing so much and I could barely talk and when I said that the flowers were pretty he was like ‘yeah, pretty like you’!” I was literally screaming on the inside.”

It felt like you had butterflies on the inside of your stomach from simply hearing about Ashido’s date. It was so much sweeter than yours, despite you still being happy with your day. Ashido and Kirishima had known each other for years too, while you and Bakugou knew each other for a week. In fact, your day with him wasn’t technically even a date.

“Kirishima is so sweet!” Hagakure gushed while you simply smiled at your friends.

“So did you confess after?” You inquired while Ashido showed off the roses now in a vase.

“Okay, okay,” She fumbled and she put down the vase and got back onto the bed. “I basically didn’t have any words. I did not expect him to be so romantic so all I could get out was a small thank you. He was super red too which was a good sign. I was trying to get up the courage to say something more, but then he started talking.”

“Oh?” Hagakure added, her commentary working well with the story.

“He confessed!” Ashido practically screamed.

“He confessed?” Both you and Hagakure questioned. You stood up from your spot in shock and Ashido followed.

Her energy was at a high as she rapidly nodded, “Yes!”

“Oh my goodness,” You added, completely shocked that Kirishima could build up the courage and also happen to do it at the same time Ashido wanted to. You could not help but think about Bakugou currently in Kirishima’s room. You wondered what the story sounded like from Kirishima’s point of view.

Was he also nervous and getting of topic? Or is he already done with the story?

You were sure whatever the answer was, Bakugou was already over it.

“It was so sweet and I feel like I blacked out,” Ashido continued. “He talked about our friendship and how he admired me and how that admiration slowly turned romantic as we got older. He ended it by saying he wanted to finally be the manliest he could be and actually tell me how he felt.”

“So sweet!” Hagakure added. “Very Kirishima of him.” She giggled at the idea of the scene, but Ashido seemed as happy as could be.

“So what did you say after?” You asked, silently hoping that their date ended with a sweet kiss.

“I started stuttering, but I was eventually able to say that I like him back,” Ashido explained. “Honestly, it was a bit awkward. That was mainly because both of us were smiling like idiots though. He was so cute,” She said for almost the fifth time that night.

“That really sweet, Ashido. I’m glad you guys finally admitted it,” You encouraged. “I’ve only known you for a short time, but it was clear you guys are really cute together.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)-kun,” She smiled before reaching out to give you an awkward hug over the pile of snacks.

“How did the date end though?” Hagakure asked as you both broke apart.

“Ah, yes!” Ashido exclaimed, as if suddenly remembering something important. “We started talking about it all and agreed to go on another date soon but keep things pretty quiet. Like, we aren’t going to hide anything, but we aren’t going to sit everyone down to just tell them.” There was a brief pause, “Well, except for you guys.”

Both you and Hagakure laughed at that.

“And Bakugou,” Hagakure added, which was something you were thinking, but did not want to bring up.

They are accusing me of dating him and I would hate for these teasing jokes to get to him and hurt the small amount of friendship we currently have, you thought as you laughed at Hagakure’s addition.

“Anyways, we eventually walked home and just talked about random things. The conversation started getting back to normal, but halfway through he held my hand and it was so cute!” She explained. “I hope everything can stay normal, just with more romance.”

“Did he kiss you at the end?” You ask, unable to help it anymore.

Hagakure laughed at you and Ashido shook her head.

“No, there were a lot of people outside, so it just didn’t feel right. I think he kinda wanted to though,” She explained and shrugged. “I’m not upset about it,” She smiled brightly, “I’m just happy we finally admitted it.”

You smiled silently at your friend, not quite having the words to tell her how happy for her and proud of her you are.

Hagakure, however, had much to say. “Oh, my god!” She began her speech. “I am literally so happy for you guys! You are both so cute together, like literally from day 1 at U.A., you two have been the sweetest friends! I cannot wait to see you guys in public. Kirishima is already so red around you that a quick kiss on his check with make him turn as red as his hair!”

“That I help him dye,” Ashido interjected, a wide smile spread across her pink cheeks.

“Exactly!” Hagakure exclaimed while wiggling around in the seat from happiness.

As a comfortable and happy silence filled the room, you each took this opportunity to grab some food. You poured yourself and Ashido a drink while Hagakure opened a bag or chips and Ashido ate more fruit snacks. Once you sat down, you phone buzzed and Hagakure and Ashido glanced up at you. Although you couldn’t actually see Hagakure…

“Probably my mom,” You mumbled, hopefully answering their silent question.

They look away and you handed Ashido her drink before grabbing your phone off the soft mattress. You tried to be as silent as you could when it was Bakugou’s name flashing across your screen instead of your mom’s.

You looked up to the girls who were staring at their own phones and unlocked yours as silently as you could.

Shitty hair is literally running through a pros and cons list of texting pinky…I’m sure your night is just as miserable considering how loud pinky and whatever her name is can get.

You stared at it, trying to figure out just how to reply. You bit your lip, wondering whether to laugh and joke along with him or defend your friend.

You tested out a few different options before finally sending:

I think it’s cute…and I’m not the type to complain about having friends who actually talk to me.

You listened as closely as you could, not sure how this comment would come across. If you paid enough attention, maybe you would be able to hear his thoughts.

Is that a quip at me? You heard a voice that you hoped was Bakugou. It definitely matched to most compared to the other voices in this house you could currently hear. Or is she just trying to share more?

You heard a bit more of his thoughts before you pulled away, not wanting to intervene too much into his privacy.

Eventually, your phone buzzed once more.

I am.

Your heart dropped slightly at the short comment. But another text suddenly came in.

As far as I think, all those other extras share way too much about their personal lives.

Other extras.

Other extras?

What does that mean?

Testing the waters, you put something a bit risky.

I’ll make sure not to share my person life with you now lol

You felt so incredibly nervous about your text and the ‘lol’ at the end felt so cringey as you stared at it.

Nah, you’re fine. For now.

You smiled brightly, you couldn’t help it. That was definitely a good sign and you knew it. You felt like such an idiot as you began typing out your reply.

“Excuse me?” You heard a critical voice say from above you.

You looked up to see Ashido and Hagakure in front of you. You shockingly looked at them, wondering what they could need.

“You sure are smiling like a fool for someone who is just texting your mom!” Hagakure accused you.

“Uhh,” You stumbled, not sure what to say.

Before you could get any words out, Ashido snatched your phone out of your hands and ran across the room.

“Oh my god!” She gasped while reading over the short conversation. “Bakugou!?” She exclaimed while turning to phone to show Hagakure.

You didn’t even try to snatch it back because you knew full well that they would find out eventually.

“Oh my,” Hagakure finally spoke. “This is,” She paused and looked at you before looking at Ashido. “Is this?”

“L/N-kun and Bakugou flirting? Yes,absolutely” Ashido rapidly nodded before tossing the electronic device onto the bed. “I’m literally not even mad at him bashing us, especially me and Kiri. I’m just happy that he finally found a girl to like.”

“We should have known too,” Hagakure passionately added while you watched their conversation unfold. “They even went on a date today.”

“It wasn’t a date,” You finally interjected.

“Oh, it wasn’t a date!? Sure, it wasn’t,” Ashido replied with an overly mocking tone.

Hagakure was busting up laughing at this point and was unable to say anything else. Nevertheless, she was trying. “I can’t—I can’t—Oh my—"

“Guys!” You pouted, interrupted the two girls. You took this opportunity to grab your phone off the bed and take your place it into your sweater pocket. “Let me explain,” You pleaded.

Both girls suddenly stopped the smiles, giggles, and teasing. Silently, they sat in their respective seats and waited for you to explain yourself.

“So,” You began before taking in a deep breath, “Yes, I do like Bakugou—”

“I knew it!” Ashido exclaimed.

You squinted your eyes at her in critique. “You knew? Since when?” You questioned, knowing full well that she did not know. She had only known you for a week and only saw you and Bakugou interact once.

“Uhh, today?” She offered, “When you came home with him today?”

Hagkure snickered at Ashido’s response which received her a light smack from the pink girl.

“You guys ready to listen?” You asked, interrupting the snickering clients.

“Yes!” The replied in unison. They sat down and looked at you with anticipation.

“Okay, so,” You thought over your next words carefully. “I don’t know what it is about Bakugou that makes me like him. It’s kind of just everything?” You bit your lip, “Like, he’s super hot.”

“Ew,” Ashido groaned, “You can’t say that about him!”

Hagakure laughed even harder than before considering she wasn’t nearly as close to Bakugou as Ashido was. “He is pretty attractive, Ashido. You have to admit.”

“Stop!” Ashido exclaimed. “Bakugou is literally like a dad, he can’t be hot.”

You laughed at Ashido’s comment, her humor helping you relax more. “Just relax, Ashido! I’ll stop talking about how,” You paused, “You know, he is.”

“Thank you,” She replied.

You smiled before continuing your story. “I’ve talked to him a few times over the week, and it is obviously not perfect. Sometimes though, he just says all the right stuff and it makes my insides twist. Like today, we went to his costume designer’s place because I simply mentioned to him that I wanted to change my costume up a lot. And then he took me to one of his favorite food places.” You smiled at the memory. “It was a really nice day, but obviously not as cute or romantic as Ashido’s date.”

Ashido shrugged, “That’s just how Bakugou is though! Like, me and Kirishima have known each other for years! Bakugou is warming up to you after only a week while it took him months to even consider Kirishima a friend.”

“Very true,” Hagakure interjected. She was enjoying the story, but Ashido knew much more about Bakugou than her, making her opinions not as pertinent.

“I think,” Ashido continued, “You and Bakugou have a lot of potential. In fact, now that I know you like him, I can pay so much attention to your conversations. I’ll be like a spy, I can analyze everything!”

You chuckled at your friend’s excitement, feeling great about telling your friends about your crush on Bakugou. At the same time, though, it also felt silly having a crush on him. You bit your lip while telling yourself not to become too preoccupied with the blond when each of you cared more about becoming heroes.

“And those texts are the first thing I want to analyze!” Ashido explained, “So gimme your phone!”

“No, you don’t have to,” You bashfully replied, not sure if it would be right to allow them to see texts from Bakugou when he thinks it is just her.

“Aww, come on!” Hagakure pressured. “I saw some pretty flirty stuff in those texts!”

“Maybe,” You continued, “But Bakugou is a very private person, you know?”

“True,” Ashido spoke, “But he doesn’t have to know!” The grin on her face was wicked and you could tell she wouldn’t let this topic go.

“Okay,” You gave in, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it. The texts between you and Bakugou popped up and you passed the phone to her.

She began reading it out loud because it was difficult for all three of your to read it at once.

“First off,” She said, beginning her analysis, “Just him initiating a conversation like this with you is big! He almost never begins conversations.”

“Not only that,” Hagakure added, “But he was trying to find common ground with you. That can be pretty big for Bakugou.”

“And,” Ashido exclaimed, as if just thinking about this “He even said he doesn’t mind you talking about your personal life while he doesn’t like hearing about others.”

Hagakure giggled, “Ooh la la! Sounds like Bakugou is in love.” She emphasized the word ‘love’ and elongated it in a teasing tone.

Ashido began chuckling along with Hagakure while you felt your cheeks turn red. “You guys are just jumping into things,” You insisted while taking your phone back. “I’m just going to take things slow.”

Since their laughter had died down by now, the girls nodded along with you.

“I think that’s smart,” Ashido agreed. “It’s hard to know how he will react in a romantic situation.”

“You know what might be fun,” Hagakure begins. You each look to her, awaiting her thoughts. “Since we know Bakugou is still in there, we could try and sneak up to the room to hear what they are saying about you guys.”

Ashido immediately had a mischievous smile appear on her face. She almost looked like a Cheshire cat and you knew what was next. “Why would we have to sneak up to overhear them when we have L/N right here?”

“Oh my god, that is so true!” Hagakure exclaimed while shaking here arms in excitement. You could tell she turned to look at you and she asked, “So, what do you think?”

I think it’s a bad idea, but I really want to do it, you thought. You took a few beats to think over all the possibilities that could make it a good or bad idea. You looked to Ashido’s excited face and knew Hagakure must feel similar despite not being able to see her either.

“Okay,” You finally said, effectively giving in.

You almost talked yourself out of it. However, this wasn’t something you did often, it definitely wasn’t going to become a habit, and you were a teenager with a crush who simply wanted to have fun?

“Yes! Yes, yes yes!” Ashido exclaimed while Hagakure got up and began dancing around the room.

You laughed loudly at your two friends, enjoying their humorous actions.

“Okay, okay,” You sheepishly interrupted, trying to calm them down. “I’ll need you guys to chill a bit to hear.”

Ashido saluted you and Hagakure laughed before doing the same, at least you could tell from her moving clothes. The two girls then sat down and awaited your next words.

You, on the other hand, focused your energy on the voices surrounding you. Your head, at this point, didn’t hurt at all, and made you feel even more confident about your decision to take out your earbuds. You had gotten very used to hearing people’s thoughts, but not at all processing the words they were saying.

Suddenly, Kirishima’s prominent thoughts came into view.

Today was so great. I think I’ll take her bowling on our next date.

“Kirishima is planning your next date,” You mindlessly spoke, too focused to watch Ashido. You did, however, hear her shrill scream and the excited thoughts rushing through her head.

“What about Bakugou?” Hagakure asked.

You barked out a laugh once your were able to hear Bakugou;s thought clearly enough. “He’s thinking about how you and Kirishima are absolute idiots…but he’s still happy you guys got together.”

“That’s so sweet!” Ashido exclaimed.

“Aww, nothing about you?” Hagakure asked.

You shrugged your shoulders and focused more on your friends. “I really doubt that he talked to Kirishima about today.” You smiled to try and assure your friends. “I don’t need him to think about me all the time.”

Ashido smiled, her eyes filled with a kind of pity you weren’t sure you liked. Despite this, you knew she had good intentions at heart, and you grinned back as she patted your shoulder.

“Anyways,” Hagakure spoke up after a pregnant pause filled the room. “Let’s talk about something else, this conversation is totally not passing the Bechdel test and I am over it.”

You nodded in agreement and grabbed a handful of chips before sipping on your drink. “I could show you guys the sketches for my new hero costume,” You offered.

Ashido grinned widely, “Yes! You can put on your current one and show us the new sketches.”

“Oh god,” You exclaimed, “My current one is so ugly.”

“Well now you have to show us,” Hagakure laughed.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be right back then.” Happily, you stood up from your seat on the bed and made your way to your bed to grab your hero costume, computer, and sketchbook. A wide smile was spread across your face and you clumsily handled all of your supplies.

Today was a great day, you thought as another person’s own thought rang through your ears.

Fuck, why was today the best day I’ve had in a while? You heard Bakugou’s voice ring through your ears before you reopened Ashido’s door.

[crystalirises]

Clouds

Hi guys! So, this is the second prompt for this week (which means I have to spin the wheel of angst again). So... this was inspired by @thesmpisonfire‘s post about possessive!Ghostbur. (I am so sorry if I butchered your idea ;-;)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724511

I also added the story below in case you don’t want to read it in ao3. Also, please take note of the trigger warnings as this isn’t exactly... just angst.

TW: Major Character Death and Poisoning (just... bad times...)

Fundy paced back and forth in front of the castle, his head downcast as he waited for his da— Ghostbur to arrive. When Phil had signed those papers, he felt a twinge of happiness he hadn’t felt in a long time. In his excitement, he had flung himself across the room, right into Eret’s arms. It felt nice. Eret had embraced him just as tightly, running a hand through his hair as they happily proclaimed him as their son. Fundy didn’t ever want to let go.

Still, he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the way Ghostbur watched from behind a corner. The dead man looked paler than usual, blood seeping from the wound on his chest as tears cascaded down his cheeks. Ghostbur had approached him after, throwing himself to the ground as he begged Fundy to spend at least one last day with him. Fundy had agreed out of guilt. The man was trying so hard to be the father he always wanted. One day. That’s all Wilbur wanted, and Fundy chose to give it to him.

“So— Fundy!” Fundy shivered, a chill running down his spine as Wilbur appeared from behind him. There was a picnic basket in his arms, though why Ghostbur chose for them to have a picnic together is beyond Fundy’s understanding. There was an excited grin on the ghost’s face, one Fundy swore he’s seen before. “I’ve packed us… well… you some lunch. Remember, the picnics we had together when you were younger? It… It seems like yesterday…”

Fundy winced, a memory of happier times flashing before his mind. “Oh. That’s great, Ghostbur… But, you’re not… You’re not going to just watch me eat, right?”

“Well, I thought we could spend the day catching up, you know? A-and you might get hungry at some point so I… You like salads, don’t you?” Fundy did not like salads, but… Ghostbur looked so nervous about this.

“Yeah. Yeah I like salads.”

They made their way to a far-off river, Ghostbur happily floating around Fundy as they got farther from New L’Manburg. Fundy could barely understand what his da— Ghostbur was saying. It felt as if the conversation would flicker into a new topic with every second they took to get to their destination. As Ghostbur appeared and disappeared from within his view, Fundy wondered if this one day would be enough for Ghostbur to move on.

“So… uh… Eret, huh?” Ghostbur’s voice was gravelly low, yet… it felt curious, not a single trace of malice or hurt in his tone.

“Yeah. Yeah. Eret. They’re great, you know?” Fundy looked over but Ghostbur was staring off into the sky. “Da— are you okay?”

“H-huh? O-of course, Fundy!” Ghostbur almost dropped the basket, raising his hands in a placating manner. “I just want what’s best for you, Fundy.”

Fundy smiled, “Thanks.”

They reached the edge of the river, Ghostbur insisting for Fundy to wait as he set up the picnic blanket. As he watched the ghost hurriedly unpack in a frenzied manner, Fundy drifted off into a memory. He recalled the sun on his face, his small hand tucked into a warm hold as his mother’s laughter floated down the field. His father would have finished setting up by the time they reached him, an immaculate smile on Wilbur’s face as he reached out his arms towards Fundy.

“Fundy? Fundy?” He jumped back into the present, a mockery of his father’s memory floating before him. A hint of concern flashed across the ghost’s face, his hand on Fundy’s cheek—

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking about… stuff.” He walked past him, his cheek cold from the touch. Ghostbur nodded, floating ahead of him as Fundy looked at the food Ghostbur had prepared.

“Sorry, I tried really hard to remember what you’re favorite food was but…” Fundy understood, Ghostbur could barely recall much ever since he died. He wasn’t surprised to know that he wasn’t as memorable as he wanted to be (despite being his son—)

No. Fundy was okay. He had Eret now, anyway.

The salad looked great, Fundy could hardly count the amount of berries Ghostbur must have use. The picnic mat was soft, the smell of sunshine and dirt pervading his senses as he half-heartedly listened to Ghostbur’s words. He looked at the salad, his stomach growling with hunger. He took a bite.

He choked, the taste bitter against his tongue. It was horrible. Well, that’s one thing Ghostbur didn’t have, Wilbur’s actual cooking skills. He wanted to stop at the first bite… but he didn’t want to make Ghostbur upset. He sighed, taking another spoonful of that horrid salad.

A few minutes passed, his head was beginning to pound. His whole body was shaking… the salad falling to the ground as a searing pain forced him to the ground. His stomach felt as if it was on fire— his vision blurring until all he could see was…

“I’m sorry, my son.”

Ghostbur’s hand was rubbing his back in a calming caress, as if placating him to peace.

“I tried. I really did. I want you to be happy, Fundy.”

Then why… Why was he suffering?

“When I found out, I was devastated.”

But he said it was fine—

“And really… Eret of all people… You chose the traitor over m— I’m not mad at you, Fundy.”

THEN WHY WAS HE IN PAIN?

“I love you. You’re my son, my boy! I couldn’t handle it, Fundy! I just can’t lose you!”

You lost me the day you chose Tommy and Tubbo over—

“I couldn’t have you calling them your father, you know? Eret… Eret doesn’t deserve it.”

As if you do?

“You’re my son, and I refuse to let them take you away from me! That’s why I— Shhhhh. Fundy, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

He didn’t want to die like this.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, okay? It’ll be over soon. Shush now.”

The last thing he feels is his father’s hand in his hair.

.

.

.

.

.

The clouds were splashed with a kaleidoscope of color, their outlines moving slowly across the sky. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, watching as the clouds disappeared into the darkness. And as the sun sets, he looks around until his gaze spots a lone figure nearby. A familiar lullaby gliding through the air, he knew this lullaby. He knew this man beside him. A smile formed on his face, his throat burning as he spoke.

“Dad?”

Ghostbur turned around, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Hello, son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Look, if I have to suffer nightmares from this I’m posting it.

So... yeah. Sorry if it sucks (I wrote this at like 10 cause I didn’t want this to haunt me in my sleep) or if it’s too dark. Not my usual style but I just really wanted to right it rn. So sorry if it’s too dark though ;-;

[imaginepirates]

Modern! Beckett

Alrighty, so I know these were requested forever ago (sorry, fml) but here you are with another modern au setting in which Beckett is plunged into today’s world. You live on a peaceful vineyard, so if you need something aesthetically pleasing rn, this is it. 

@fablelady @kay-maybe​ @panagiasikelia​ 

~3200 words

~~~~~~~

          Something had gone horribly wrong with the food. Some sort of toxin had made its way into your body. It had to have. Otherwise, you wouldn't be seeing a man standing in your vineyard, wearing an embroidered waistcoat, looking completely and utterly lost.

          You'd been walking barefoot through the rows of vines after breakfast, letting your toes curl against the earth. It was a pleasant sensation. A light breeze tugged at your loose hair, and the morning sun warmed your arms and back. Ripe grapes hung from the vineyard’s vines, purplish blue, ready to be harvested and sold to the nearby winery. You looked up, gazing over the endless rows of green and out to the golden fields beyond. Even further was the shimmering lake, the morning sun dappling across its surface, vast and blue and ending hazily at the mountainous opposite shore.

         You wandered aimlessly, with no goal in mind, just looking out over the vast stretches of empty land. There was another vineyard in the distance, much the same as yours, and a small road interrupted the natural beauty, but there was little else around. A small city sat beyond the crest of a far off hill. You couldn’t see it from where you lived, but you drove in to get groceries and anything else you needed.

         It was as you walked that you found yourself face to face with a small man who had somehow made his way deep within your vineyard. He stared at you with wide eyes and a perplexed expression, and you stared back, equally surprised.

         It took a few moments to even comprehend the idea of someone ending up on your property. The section of vines you were in was far from the road, and you likely would have noticed someone coming from the road in any case. He didn’t really look like he’d walked a long way; there was none of the thin layer of dust that a person accumulated while walking long distances. You had no idea where he could have possibly come from.

         The second thing that you noticed about the stranger was his manner of dress. A pale blue embroidered waistcoat, breaches, and strange heeled shoes were hardly the normal manner of dress. Not to mention the wig.

          It took you another instant to realize that you recognized the man. Which means I must be dreaming, or I must be crazy. He bared an uncanny resemblance to a character from one of your favorite movies. There’s no way this could possibly be him. Lord Cutler Beckett, in my yard.

         You must have been staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time, as he cleared his throat.

         You had a hard time forcing words out of your mouth. “Oh,” was all you could manage at first. Then, “Any idea how you got here?”

         The man had the decency to look embarrassed. “No, I’m afraid.” He fidgeted with the hem of his loose white shirt. “Where am I, exactly?”

         “In the middle of my vineyard, actually.”

         “Ah. And that is?”

         “A ways from wherever you come from, I think.”

         He seemed to agree, assessing your clothes and the area around him.

         “Would you like to come inside? We might be able to figure things out better.”

         “Thank you.”

         You walked back between the rows of grapevines, much more quickly than your earlier aimless meandering. The house was just ahead, a red roof against sandy walls. Cypress trees stood, lining the gravel driveway, at the front of the house. Beckett didn’t seem phased in the least by the outside appearance; you were sure he’d seen things like it before. It was old-fashioned, if not truly that old, in the style of Tuscan vineyards.

         Beckett got a shock upon seeing the inside of the house, though. You led him up the stairs to your back porch and through the double doors at the back of the house. If the porch a story off the ground didn’t seem strange enough to him, the modern furniture, lights, decor, and appliances shocked him. You could hear him gasp a little behind you as he entered the house.

         You entered into the kitchen. It was a large, open space connected to your living room. Bar seating separated the two spaces. “Water?” You asked. “I know it can get hot out there.”

         “Hm? Oh, yes, please.” Somehow, he still managed to keep his manners.

         You pulled a glass from the cupboard of the kitchen, filling it with water from the refrigerator. You looked back at Beckett, who stared on quizzically with his mouth slightly open. When you gave him the glass, he eyed it suspiciously before drinking.

         “Perhaps ‘where’ am I wasn’t the right question,” he murmured. He drank slowly, eyeing everything around him. You were half tempted to turn on the TV, just to give him a start, but you decided against it.

         “I think you’re going to find that everything is different around here. It might take some getting used to.” That was an understatement and you knew it.

         “Ah.” He continued to stare. Finally, his eyes snapped back into focus and he looked at you. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to play the part of the host?”

         “I have plenty of room.”

         He raised his eyebrows. “You live here alone?” “Not anymore, it seems, though I might like to know the name of my guest.” You gave him a smile, and he tentatively smiled back.

         “Beckett. Cutler Beckett.” It was your turn to be dazed. “Thank you. I’d rather not make myself more lost by trying to find somewhere else to stay.”

         “I understand.” Huh. Cutler Beckett. Right in my kitchen.

         You showed him to a guest room. It was fairly minimal, and the decorations were sparse. The room had been painted an ivory color, and you’d complimented it with pale blue decorations. The curtains sported flowering shapes in both colors, whereas the bedspread was slightly patterned in varying shades of blue. An ovular mirror stood to one side of the room. It was charming, in its own way, though you were sure Beckett was used to more lavish accommodations.

         He, for his part, didn’t seem to mind. He tapped the bed absentmindedly with a hand, looking around. He furrowed his brows, looking at the nightstand with its lamp. “What’s this?”

         “A lamp. It’s a light that you can control from next to your bed.” You then proceeded to show him the lightswitch.

         He stared, bewitched. “How does it work?”

         “I’m…. not completely sure. It’s so common, I don’t really think about that. I know that it’s a complicated mess of wires, though.”

         He continued to stare at the switch. As you left the room, you heard him give it a few experimental clicks. You smiled. It was sort of adorable, the way he was enchanted with everything. Much different from the man from the story. Softer. More human.

         “Are you hungry?” You asked. It was getting on towards midday, and you found the idea of lunch to be appealing.

         “The thought of food tempts me, I will admit.”

         “It’s decided, then. Perhaps we’ll make it a picnic.” You busied yourself in the kitchen, pulling out meats, cheeses, fruits, nuts, and crackers. Snacky foods, but delicious when combined, and perfectly filling.

         Beckett seemed a little dubious at the idea of eating outside, but you assured him that he wouldn’t get dirty, nor would he have trouble with bugs.

         “And the heat?” he asked.

         “Firstly, you can lose the waistcoat. And the wig. They won’t do you any favors. Secondly,” you snatched a floppy sun hat from a peg on the wall, “I have two.”

         You might have considered getting him different clothes if you’d been worried about someone seeing you, but you weren’t, so you didn’t bother. You instead put the large sun hat on his now bare head, the hat clashing horribly with everything else.

         You put yours firmly in place, picked up the basket in which you’d put your food, and strolled out the back door. Beckett followed right behind you, staring out at everything he could see. “It feels like Greece,” he said, “or Italy.”

         “Thank you. I try to keep that feeling, actually.”

         “You’re doing beautifully.”

         The words took you aback. You could see that he was perfectly serious, but you hadn’t expected such a compliment from him. You’d hardly expected him to say anything nice at all. The story didn’t do him justice, then. You’d always expected him to be a bit of an ass. You supposed he still had the chance, but he’d been nothing but the picture of polite company, if not massively confused polite company.

         You walked him down a winding path through the golden fields surrounding the vineyard. It trailed down to the shore of the lake, whose deep blue waters stretched out to a hazy horizon. Mountains rose up far beyond, too far away to see clearly, barely standing out against the sky. A small boat sat on the beach there, on your side,  and you had a mind to row it a ways down the bank.

         You pushed off from the bank, peacefully rowing through the serene waters. Few boats used the lake, making it ideally scenic. You would have hated for the lake to be crowded. More urban areas got choked with tourists during the summer, but you were far enough away from any big cities that it wasn’t a problem. Besides, the nearest town didn’t have major hotels.

         You rowed along, Beckett sitting opposite you in the little boat. He seemed to be enjoying himself, looking out over the scenery. The tension had left his shoulders. He seemed almost peaceful this way, staring out at the hazy mountains, looking over the golden fields and banks of trees.

         You arrived at a flat, grassy area shaded by trees. The two of you got out and sat beside the lake, shielded from the blistering sun. You unpacked the basket you’d brought with you. You and Beckett sat in companionable silence, enjoying the meal, enjoying a slight breeze. Beckett looked ridiculous in the sun hat. It seemed too big on him, somehow, and it made him look much less threatening than you were used to his being. Meeting him in person had been a lot different than how he was portrayed, you reflected.

         “It’s wonderful here. Much more peaceful than home,” he said. His expression changed when he spoke of his home, like he’d tasted something sour. “I do wonder what’s going on. And how I’m supposed to get back. If I’m supposed to get back. It’s a rather terrifying thought, that I might never go home.” By the look on his face, the thought was just now occurring to him.

         “I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you home.”

         “Are you sure? I don’t know how I ended up here in the first place. It seems rather like a dream, though I can say with confidence that it isn’t.”

         “You had to get here somehow. I don’t think you’re meant to stay here forever.”

         He looked out over the lake. “Things are such a mess there, the idea of staying here isn’t so awful, actually.”

         “Maybe you just needed time away.”

         “I doubt the world would be so kind.”

         You steered away from the subject, and the two of you ended up talking about the vineyard. He knew more about viniculture than you might have guessed.

         “It really does take me back to some of my lessons in school,” he said. “They had pictures of the Italian countryside in some of my books. It was much like this, though I don’t remember any lakes.”

         You smiled. “It’s one of my favorite places. Too many methods of production have taken on more modern approaches; the massive farms growing wheat, or the rows upon rows of corn, interrupted only by giant sprinklers and massive tractors. I like keeping things small. It’s so much more peaceful than those unnerving monocultures.”

         “I always wanted to go. To Greece, or Italy, I mean. I loved all the stories, all the history. I wanted to experience it for myself.”

         “Never got to go?”

         “No. My travels took me elsewhere. Africa, China, India, the New World. I always told myself that I’d make time for it later.”

         “Surely the places you did go to proved to be interesting.”

         “Very. The cultures of those places were foreign to me; lord knows they weren’t part my education. I found them fascinating. Tell me, have the American colonies expanded? I’m sure they’d have had to, by now.”

         “Well, yes.” You didn’t think he’d like where this was going.

         Something in your expression must have tipped Beckett off. “They are still under the control of the British?”

         “No.”

         “The Spanish? God forbid, don’t tell me the French got control. I can’t imagine those frogs doing anything good with the land.”

         “Actually, the colonies had a revolution and became their own country.”

         “Ah,” he said. “I suppose that’s wont to happen sometimes.”

         “Yes, yes it is.” You thought of all the other countries that had broken away from Britain, too.

         You packed up, stepping back into the boat. This time, you drifted out towards the center of the lake. “Did you spend much time at sea?” you asked. “You did seem to travel a lot.” You didn’t want to make it look like you knew too much about him, even though you did.

         “I spent a fare amount of time at sea, yes, though I typically settled down once I got somewhere.” He let his hand skim the top of the water. “The sea is much different from a lake, though. Calmer.”

         You were out on the lake until dusk, talking about this and that; the places you’d been and the things you’d seen, all the questions Beckett had for you about modern technology and travel, and a hundred other things. You figured it was the most relaxed Becektt had ever been. He even laughed from time to time at your jokes. How strange it is, to see him like this. I think he’s growing on me.

         You seemed to be growing on him, too. “You’re very easy to get along with, you know that? I haven’t just sat and talked with someone in ages. At least, not without wanting to get something from them.”

         “Is there nothing you want to get from me?” you asked innocently.

         Beckett looked at you, surprised. A slight blush dusted his features. Then he smiled, a little wickedly, and raised an eyebrow. “Was that flirting?”

         It was your turn to blush. “Perhaps a little.”

         “Just know that it can go both ways.” A smug look crossed his face as you blushed deeper. “Although I have to admit, I’m rather out of practice. It’s been a long time since anyone’s flirted with me.”

         “I can’t see why. You’re such a charming man.”

         “Am I? I rather think that my good attitude has everything to do with my company, and nothing to do with my charm.”

         You rolled your eyes, rowing back to shore. By the time you got back to the house, it was time for dinner, and you coerced Beckett into helping you make it. He had little idea what he was doing, but managed not to make a complete mess with any of his tasks. It’s cute, you thought, to watch him try doing domestic things.

         The two of you enjoyed a pasta dish with chicken and tomatoes, fresh basil and olive oil drizzled over the top. You had an assortment of fruits to enjoy, too. You plucked a pomegranate from the mix.

         Beckett eyed you. “I suppose you know the story of Hades and Persephone?”

         “I do. How Hades fell in love with Persephone, kidnapped her, and tricked her into eating seeds from the fruit of the underworld. She had to return to him, then, and spend half of each year with him.”

         “A man from another world, falling for a goddess of vegetation.” Beckett’s eyes focused on the pomegranate. “Sometimes, mythology is unbelievable. Sometimes, it isn’t.”

         You cut the fruit, taking out a large spoonful of the burgundy seeds and eating them. “I like the version where Persephone knows exactly what she’s doing.”

         Beckett watched you, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

         “It’s a little wicked, I must confess. The thought that she was no innocent victim, but a wholly conscious decider of her fate. Perhaps not all women want to pick flowers all day. Some of us might like a taste of power, of having men fear our names.”

         “And would you have me fear yours?” He arched a brow. You laughed. “No, no.”

         “Would you rather me kidnap you, then?” He didn’t give you time to answer, instead pulling you out of your seat to be flush against him. “Tell me, do you dance?”

         “Does the Macarena count?” He gave you a questioning look. “Nevermind,” you said. “The answer is no.”

         “Shame. Looks like you need a teacher.” He smirked. “It might be a little hard without music, though.”

         “What song?” Beckett looked confused. “Can you get any waltzes?”

         “Alexa,” you turned your head towards the small device sitting on your counter. “Play the Second Waltz.” You turned back to Beckett. “It’s a bit more contemporary, but I trust you’ll know how to dace to it.”

         The tune, familiar to you, at least, began. Beckett put a hand on your waist and took one of your hands with the other. Your free hand floated just above his shoulder, where you assumed it was supposed to go.

         “Don’t be shy,” he urged.

         The moment your hand came to rest on his shoulder, he took a step forward, forcing you to step back. He guided you to one side, then forward, and again to the other side. Your movements were clumsy, but you began to get the hang of it as he repeated the steps.

         “Not so hard, see?”

         You smiled shyly, aware of just how close the two of you were.

         “Blushing already?” he teased. He suddenly pulled you flush against his chest. “And to think I hadn’t even given you anything to blush about.”

         “You’re cheeky, aren’t you?” You barely managed to get the words out through your embarrassment.

         “Perhaps. Though I’m sure I can make you blush harder if I try.”

         “Is that a promise?”

         Beckett laughed. “You’re not so bad at this yourself, you know. But if I must…” The hand on your waist took a firmer grip, while the one holding yours came to rest on your cheek. His thumb grazed over your lower lip. Softly, he planted a kiss to your lips, staying close even after it was finished. “Perhaps staying here forever isn’t such a bad thought after all,” he whispered. He stepped back. “Though I suppose I have to find a way back at some point.”

         “We will,” you said, still a little dizzy from the kiss.

         “Together?”

         “Together.”

~~~~~~~

If anyone was wondering about the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPG_WUgHbis

[missmentelle]

Hi! I’m wondering if you can help me. The other day I messaged a user on anon, asking for help about something and they responded with “you realize I don’t know anything about *this* right? don’t ask me about something I know nothing about” and I responded back apologizing and saying I wouldn’t message them about that topic again (part 1).

and the user took a screenshot of that last sentence I responded with, and shared with their blog that i am using gaslighting and manipulative language and it honestly floored me. I am seeing a psychologist rn bc of abuse I suffered from my father as a child, so I know what gaslighting and manipulation is - but I cannot see how what I wrote is a form of that? I have been feeling so guilty for over a day now. I feel sick that maybe I am turning into my father. I’m really starting to question my behavior and choices, because I try so hard to live my life opposite of my abuser. Please help me, I feel like I’m going crazy. I don’t have anyone else to turn to abut this. Thank you!

Hey, I’m really sorry to hear that you’ve had this experience. From the sounds of it, you didn’t do anything wrong - it’s totally reasonable to assume that a person who is open to anonymous messages doesn’t mind actually receiving anonymous messages, and it’s not manipulative to apologize when someone has made it seem like they are annoyed or offended by something you did. From the sounds of it, the other person has extremely low patience for other people, or simply enjoys “calling out” other people publicly whenever they get a chance to. There are people who get pleasure from that, and I’m afraid that this may have been a case of you simply being unlucky enough to message the wrong person. The vast majority of people are not annoyed by receiving off-topic messages - when I get an off-topic message, I’m just sorry that I can’t be helpful. I’m not annoyed with the person who sent it.  Unfortunately, this is one of the downsides of “therapy language” - terms like “gaslighting”, “abuser” and “narcissism” - becoming more familiar and widespread. It’s great when this language gives survivors the terminology they need to more accurately discuss their experiences, but it’s not so great when people start using this language to describe ordinary clashes and missteps in relationships. I’ve seen a lot of people use the term “gaslighting” to describe white lies or misunderstandings that absolutely did not fit the definition of gaslighting, and I have seen people rush to diagnose others with “narcissism” when they don’t actually know the person and have no qualifications to be making that kind of assessment. Not every unpleasant or awkward interaction is abusive, and I think the internet as a whole is really starting to lose sight of that. 

One of the biggest issues about those words being thrown around carelessly in general is that it disproportionately impacts people who struggle with social interactions - people with anxiety, autism, or a history of complex trauma. People who find that social cues don’t come naturally to them are more likely to accidentally push or cross boundaries without realizing it; most people don’t actually state their boundaries out loud in plain language, and count on other people noticing their negative reactions to figure out where their boundaries lie. When you can’t read social signals very easily, you’re more likely to miss those signals that boundaries are being crossed. As a person who has experienced complex trauma, there isn’t a whole lot you can do about that - you can definitely work on it as best you can in therapy or on your own, but at some point, other people also have a responsibility to be kind to others and to try to remember that the people they interact with may be dealing with things that they don’t know about. 

Mental health awareness is improving dramatically, but instead of making us more tolerant of people who struggle with social cues, it seems to be making us less tolerant. Even ten years ago, it seemed like attitudes were more along the lines of “Oh, Taylor isn’t so good with social stuff, they’ve been through a lot, you just need to remind them a couple times”, while it feels like today we’re seeing a lot more attitudes of “There’s no excuse for making any missteps, ever, I am not obligated to explain my boundaries to you and if you make a mistake you are toxic and I will cut you out of my life”. Obviously there are instances where people who struggle with social cues are genuinely abusive or manipulative, but it seems like we need to get a lot a lot better at striking a balance between “protecting ourselves” and “showing compassion and patience for people who struggle with things that we do not”. 

And of course, communicating online via text throws gasoline on the problem. When you communicate online, you don’t get to hear the person’s tone of voice or inflection. It’s very easy to assume the worst of someone, and it’s very easy to hit the “block” button. People never have to see the impact they have when they decide to publicly call someone else a “gaslighter”, and it’s very easy to throw around these kinds of accusations without ever being questioned for it.  I know that “just ignore it” is overly simplistic advice, but when someone is saying these kinds of things about you after a very brief online interaction, I do think it’s important to stop and think critically about whether their judgement of you is valid. If the roles were reversed, would you have been upset to receive the message you sent? Have you had similar issues in your real-life relationships? Do you have these sorts of interactions with other people on a regular basis? If the answer is “no”, it may be best to conclude that the other person was the one being unreasonable, and not give their judgement serious consideration.  Best of luck to you! MM 

[ziracona]

hey zira, what are your hot takes on all of the fo4 companions?

Haha, I don’t know how hot they are, but I can give you a speed run! (Also I am very excited to get this. FO4 was the first open world game I ever played and just the concept of that and the hugeness of the world and branching story & sudden feeling changes towards me in companion characters totally blew my mind, & it still lives rent free in my heart).

Ada, Old Longfellow, and Strong I /still/ haven’t maxed despite having too many hundred hours to want to list on this game—the former bc they were DLC, Strong because honest to god I left him at a nice settlement and then completely forgot about him and remembering that I am the energy in this Ryan O’Flanagan video but abt leaving my super mutant in a tiny settlement alone. I will get there! To max affinity I mean. But anyway, I don’t truly know those three, so my takes are incomplete. So far though, I really like Ada. She is a good girl just trying her best. Fucks me up I can tell her to self destruct. Even though I feel sure she would ignore me, I cannot imagine ever saying that to her. It was really sweet she was willing to forgive the Mechanist and move on with her life. A good girl. Longfellow I am maxing rn (was last time I played anyhow). I enjoy him. Gruff grumpy old man but he seems quite decent and I like his idle banter and when he sings to himself a lot. Seems like he’s had it rough. Strong I liked. He’s wild, and I loved how insane meeting him was, and am worried about him eventually understanding poetry and how that might mess up his sense of world understanding. But he’s a chill dude in his own way and I am glad they gave us at least one nice super mutant.

For the companions I actually do know like the back of my hand, the speedrun:

Nick Valentine: Best man on earth. One of two fictional characters I ever called husband. I would die kill or live for him. I want to be 1/4th the man Nick Valentine is. One of the best characters ever period and I adore literally everything about him. It fucked me up early in game where right after he offered to basically risk destroying his mind to help a stranger look for her son, he asked me how I was doing. First character in the entire game to do that. His first companion dialogue is abt how you’re doing TuT. The man is very kind and forgiving and fair, but knows when the draw the line and take no shit. Emotionally mature, kind, caring, longsuffering. Incredibly damaged and broken by life, but holding on and living kindly and to help others anyway. One of the four most marryablen fictional men I’ve ever seen.

Preston Garvey: Brave, kind, sweet man. I would defend him with my life. He really just wants so bad to make the world better and life has been so hard, but he’s still trying. A beautiful and underrated companion and I would throw hands for him on sight. I adore how he whistles. A true and gentle and loyal friend. Take him to Quincy and let him get his justice it’s what he deserves. People who hate him because he tries to get help helping civilians in that game are weak. I love him so much... please give him enough time to reach max affinity he’s so worth it.

Deacon: *To the tune of You Are My Dad* You are my friiiiend! You’re my friend! (Boogie woogie woogie). Initially, he pissed me off bc he lies all the god damn time, but after we got close enough he actually trusted me, he stole my heart and I would also die for Deacon. He’s a really good person who thinks he’s shit because of who he was on his past. Also him 🤝 Preston: massive survivor’s guilt. They should be friends. Poor Deacon has been the last member of the Railroad like four times, and it’s awful. Help him. Give him love and support. He’s one of my all time faves. Also, Railroad hands down best faction and if you kill them for any reason other than like a walkthrough route video and I ever get the chance I would 100% clock you in the face as hard as I can, like going for losing teeth, and feel no guilt. I know it’s a game and that’s wrong, and I’d be wrong, but I’d still do it. Also, Ryan Alosio (his VA) saw me do cosplay for Deacon once and told me it was great and it filled me with even more love. Anyway Deacon is great. Also, his whole “There are other organisations out there. And, in time, I'm sure they're going to spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit. Ignore the verbage and look at what they're doing. What they're asking you to do. What sort of world they'd have you build and how they're going to pay for it.” Is one of the like, two most iconic quotes in all of FO4 & just super good in general.

Hancock: Hardcore badass man but also a good dude and a champion for the people. Man really puts his money where his mouth is and you gotta respect that; another favorite companion for sure. Big fan of the way he stabs a guy for you upon meeting, and is a cool leader who organized his crime and does a decent job actually leading. He works hard to help people and bites back hard. Social justice advocate, dangerous man about town, not afraid to cosplay a revolutionary war hero 24/7 & u gotta respect the no fucks given attitude. A chill dude. Like that he fights the institute, hates the Brotherhood, helps the Railroad, and is friends with Nick. He’s legit af. Also, his VA gives a different answer every time someone asks him about the voice he did for hancock and they’re funny af.

Piper Wright: A cool spunky lady. Lois Lane on the case, kicking butt, and taking name. She’s nice but also hardcore and smart, supportive, fun. A good person. You always get points if you like Nick (which most companions do), and they’re good friends. She’s funny and I love her. A good heart.

Codsworth: He’s great. He’s family. He’s like my...weird brother. Getting to max affinity is heartwarming and also makes my heart go :’-] . Great early-game companion bc he kicks ass and doesn’t need stims to heal. I love getting called by my name and think that was a great feature (well, my PC’s name). He’s a wonderful funky little robot dude and I am so glad he likes me.

Dogmeat: Amazing. A good boy. Doggo of the year. His actor deserved the game award she won. Cute, full of love, and plays with a teddy bear if you give him one. 100/10z

Cait: I like her a lot. She’s been through so much shit, and it makes sense she is how she is. I like they actually gave her an emaciated and messy (though still pretty) design, since she is a drug addict. And that they make her main quest about taking that seriously and wanting to get help, and that she’ll call out the player if they fuck around and do drugs in front of her after she gets rehabilitated. Her relationship to the PC if good is really sweet, and I am a fan. I like that while she’s not sympathetic to synths and thinks they aren’t people, she forgets that every time Nick walks into a room and is like “Oh hey Nicky : )”. She’s a good girl who has been through a lot and still needs time to heal and find herself, but she’s making great strides.

Robert Joseph MacCready: Human disaster (loving). Homeboy a goddamn /mess/ but I love him. He tries so hard to be cool. I love he makes you pay him to come with, then chickens out and gives it back lol. A fool ball of anxiety and bad decisions and what he thinks brovado is. I wish he, Preston, and Deacon would quit fighting, bc I am always like “ :’-] </3 Boys Please” when they swap out, but I love them just the same. He’s doing his best, he’s just stupid and a fool. Like Philip J Fry. Keeping his goddamn soldier toy, which somehow is listed as junk instead of sent to Misc with quest items where it would be fine, safe?parylizes me with fear. I’ve lost 2 hours of gameplay reloading an old save bc I accidentally lost it.

X6-88: A more complex one to answer about. He’s bad, but like, I’m pretty sympathetic to how he got that way. He was created in a lab and had his emotions mostly dragged out of him in intense psychologically damaging training so he would be a weapon and view himself as an object. I was relieved he chose me over the institute even if he wasn’t a fan of the chocie, and think that means there’s a lot of hope for him. Wish he’d chill the fuck out and quit intimidating civilians for 6 god damn seconds, but I like him. I bring him fancy lad snack cakes home from travels all the time, bc Synths are supposed to like them. Really like that he’s the /most/ sympathetic companion towards Danse in Blind Betrayal, even though he should not be programmed for that, and Danse hated him and made it clear any time they interacted.

(EDIT) Curie: I FORGOT HER BABY IM SO SORRY. I like Curie a lot, despite the fact I temporarily forgot she existed. I stg I thought she was in here. Uhhh, okay. Curie: like her character and personality, HUGE un-fan of both the way her desire to get a synth body is to be ‘more real,’ as if Codsworth isn’t a fully realized person while the same robot type she is, instead of just like. Because it would make her happy. ALSO hate how much of a Born Sexy Yesterday she is, even intentionally in not-determinate affinity talks. It’s gross. But her herself, I like a lot. She’s my daughter and I will protect her. She works at The Castle right now as their on-site medic.

Paladin Danse: I know I’m gonna take heat for this but honestly? He didn’t do much for me. I like that he looks and sounds kinda like Buzz Lightyear, and that’s fun, but idk at all why people think he’s so hot. He’s very boring & generic looking to me. Like you’re valid! Taste all be different. But he doesn’t do it for me personally in looks or personality. I don’t at all like, hate him. Or even dislike. Tbh I am fairly neutral on him. It was funny making affinity with him though. Every other companion I had maxed, I liked more and more with each affinity talk. They’d be like “So my dad was a minuteman and died and I want to honor him” or “I just want to really feel like I’m a person, for real, myself, and I am glad I met you, because the good we have achieved together is ours, even if I can’t be sure of anything else,” or “My brother threw the cultural minorities out of our city for clout bc the rich citizens were all racist, and I tried to help—I snuck them food to the unsafe ruins they set up in for weeks, but eventually, they just vanished, and I still bear immense guilt and self-hatred over not having stopped that.” And Danae’s would be like “One time a buddy of mine got kidnapped by super mutants. They turned him into one of them, and they’re all abominations, so I killed him and it made me really sad.” And I was just like “...Oh danse. I really wanted to like you more. But what the fuck.” His relationship to Haylen is sweet though. And ofc I saved him in Blind Betrayal. I blew up the Prydwin so he’s safe now too, and he lives in the garden by my house and tells me how glad he is we’re friends, and I’m p into that. Overall, my feelings on him are not strong at all though.

Porter Gage: Not a fan. Like, I appreciated he helped me kill the old boss, sure. And bc I owed him for that, I went to max affinity to see what there was to him as a person. And like, as far as raiders go, he was okay. But he wasn’t deeply sympathetic, and he’s a slaver, and if you try to liberate the slaves he and the others own, he /will/ turn on and attempt to murder you immediately, no matter how close you were, so he made his choice, and it was to be a bad person and an asshole to the last. Really enjoyed the VA’s work a lot on him tho.

And there you have it 👈👈😎. Thanks for asking!

[anakinnaberrie]

Can you explain your process of making gif edits? I tried doing it but it's either too big so when I make it smaller it's unclear and I'm like ahhhhh

for sure! just as a head's up, i learned how to make my gifs in 2011 and i am stubborn so there are probably more efficient ways of doing so. also i use cc 2018 and this became long, so I'll try to put it into a read more.

firstly, I use the highest quality available that my computer can handle. my laptop isn't super intensive, so I cap out at 1080p for shows/movies but if its a short youtube video (like a slow mo guys) i can handle around 2k.

secondly, I import frames from videos which I know is controversial. i've found that my gifs have a layer of grain on them that people who import stills (using something like KMPlayer, or whatever people use since its not 2012 anymore) do not have, so if you're really frustrated try checking out a tutorial on how to do that. i am elderly, i refuse to do so.

once i import the scene i want, i trim off any extra frames that got caught in the time i chose. try to do at least every other frame, but realistically if your gif is too large for tumblr go for every 3rd frame, you don't lose that much in terms of fluidity. then I change the timing of my gifs to .14 seconds (also controversial — 0.05-07 is popular rn). i try to keep my smaller gifs under 100 frames and my larger under 60.

cropping is probably the second most important part in making sure your gifs aren't too huge (and look good on the dashboard). your width will either be 540px or 268px (one per line or two per line) depending on what set you're making. the height you can play with, whatever works best for you. I normally fall back on 540 x 250px for long and 540 x 400px for tall, but it all depends on what you're making. worst case scenario, set your width but not your height in the crop box and draw it until everything you want to be included is.

from there its all about coloring, which is really the most challenging part of the process. basically, the more far removed from whatever color the gif was originally, the larger your gif is going to be. My every day gifs (like the rt ones) use really simple coloring, so it ends up being from like 4-8 layers when all is said and done. For stuff like my rots color matching set or my anakin magenta set, that'll end up anywhere from 6 to 12-15 depending on how the scene looked already.

if youre not super sure about coloring I would definitely go on some resource blogs, like/rb the post and download some of the options they provide until you get a feel for it yourself. I still use a criminal minds baseline color corrector i downloaded whenever I gif that show. and, if all else fails, artsy black and white is your friend.

once i'm satisfied with the coloring, and god forbid have spent the 45 minutes it takes for me to pick a god damn font out, I turn my frame animation into a timeline animation (yes this resets the timing. i like the way it looks tho so im not pressed), convert all my layers into a smart object, and smart sharpen the gif. i got these settings from user tennant, iirc?. increase the radius to 0.4px if your gif isn't in hd, it works wonders

from there i export through legacy save for web, and i still dont know what the fuck good export settings are. this is what i use, anyway. ignore the size below, i opened an edit wip i didn't size yet. then it's trial and error to see if tumblr accepts it, as long as it's under 8mb. closer to 3 and under you are the better.

I hope this helped, and feel free to ask me more if it didn't! I'm not like, super great at explaining but I will do my best to guide you.

[imagine-loki]

Books are Better Than People Trigger warning - anxiety attack

TITLE: Books are better than People CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 18 AUTHOR: dance-in-moonlight ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine taking Loki to the biggest library in the world, The Tianjin Binhai Library in China. As soon as you walk in, he’s like a kid in a candy store as he doesn’t know where to start with 1.2 million books surrounding him… RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Yelling, mentioning of anxiety attack, serious self-doubt

ADDITION: You are Tony’s personal assistant.

“A week! Not a single word from you! Do you know what this means for the company? For me? I was late to everything!" 

Tony stood by the short side of the long meeting table, yelling at you through the length of the room. His face was red, his eyes shimmered and you could see the vein in his throat throb with his high pulse as you avoided to look him in the eye. Now and then he had slammed his fist into the table to underline his words.

 It had been going on for at least three minutes now, since you had appeared in the doorframe. You hadn’t even entered the room yet. 

The rest of the team sat in between you two, quietly staring at the table or sending you compassionate glances. Everybody was aware of Tony’s temper but they rarely had to sit through an entire tirade like this one.

The meeting had started six minutes ago, you’d been three minutes late. After a week of absence. Three minutes of yelling until Tony finally came to the point of his argument.

"Where the fuck were you?” Finally a break. He expected an answer. 

“Igh”, you tried, but you had a lump in your throat. Nervously you swallowed and tried again, this time in a tiny, tiny voice. 

“In Norway." 

"Norway? Why? And with whom?”, your boss boomed through the meeting room. He didn’t seem like it, but he could be super authoritarian and intimidating if he wanted to be. Which seemed to be the case now. 

“I-i was looking for Loki. There…was a personal matter. Dr Strange hel-" 

"You went after that PSYCHOPATH? And the fucking wizard helped you? Are you out of your goddamn mind? Do you realize you have a job to do?” Underneath the anger - and the other emotion you couldn’t quite lay a finger on - displayed on his face you could see his surprise. If he hadn’t been so upset you were almost sure he’d laughed. Even to yourself the reason sounded ridiculous, but it had been important back then. 

“I, um…” You had no more words, tears burned in your eyes. This was so damn stupid. He was right, you had acted impulsively. You’d made him angry, disappointed in you. The man you looked up to so much, who had once realized your potential and given you this amazing job you loved so much.

Luckily someone noticed your discomfort. Or maybe they were just fed up by the yelling. 

“That’s enough, Tony." 

"Shut the fuck up, Steve”, Tony hissed and angrily threw his hand into Steve’s direction, pointing a finger at him with the force of a punch. He didn’t mean it of course. Tony loved his friends and although he had trouble showing that, they knew. He was upset.

“No. Tony stop. She’s upset, you’re upset. Sit down and let her say something instead of yelling at her like a madman!”, Steve insisted. He stood relaxed, but his posture also showed that he was not intimidated nor wouldn’t put an end to this forcefully if he had to. 

“I said-" 

”Tony.“ Natasha had gotten up and walked over to stand beside you, her icy stare fixed on your boss. 

"Enough." 

With a defeated growl Tony dropped his arm and sank down into his chair, arms crossed like a pouting child as he glared at you. 

"Fine. See me after the meeting. You’re excused." 

You swallowed another lump and fought the tears that formed in your eyes. This was it. Natasha patted your back as you turned, but while you left she stayed, of course. She was a relevant member of the Avengers unlike you. 

____________________________________________________

"You’re replaceable”, you hissed at yourself once you were out of earshot. Anyone could take your position, your job. You would surely lose your job, you’ve never seen Tony this mad before. It scared you. A sob escaped your throat and you began to sprint towards the community  room to hide your face from the security cameras and the employees you passed. Stark tower was no place to be secluded, but since the Avengers were busy you counted on their floor being empty. 

You were lucky. After the door closed you dropped on a sofa and began to cry your eyes out with loud, ugly sobs. One stupid little mistake had lead to all this. Your stupid, stupid ego had almost cost you Loki, and now it would cost you your job and position. You’d been so selfish, thinking telling Tony where you were would only make them all try to get you away from Loki. You’d been away for a week, unexcused. Perhaps the whole company had experienced massive struggles, you didn’t know. You had taken all organizational tasks from Pepper once you’d been hired, leaving her with enough time and headspace to lead the company while Tony could tinker and invent and be Ironman in between of press conferences and agreeing or disagreeing to his wife’s business decisions. That being said, there was no way Pepper could have done your work while you were away, she had no insight in your complex scheduling system and appointments. Even one missed meeting could do a whole lot. 

“Shit…what do I do? What do I do?”, you whispered into the pillows, shaken by sobs. The pillow didn’t reply, so you hit it in a wave of anger. The stupid pillow wouldn’t lose all its friends. 

__________________________________________________

Fifteen or twenty minutes must have passed when your phone played a notification sound. Great. You sniffled and ignored it. You had bigger problems than your friends right now, they could wait. They should know your job usually kept you busy, sometimes no one could reach you all day. Another message followed, and then a third one. Annoyed you unlocked the damn thing and opened the messenger. It was Loki. 

> Hello Love, how are you? We decided on a place to settle, Thor and the Valkyrie are out to talk to the people. <

You had gotten him a phone before you left, he couldn’t teleport  every single hour. He was busy and so were you. 

> Hey! I’m great, but in a meeting rn. Call you later! <

You couldn’t stand the truth right now, you didn’t want him to worry. Your throat felt scratchy from the crying, so you walked over to the little break room kitchen to find a drink. The coffee machine was empty, but the fridge offered orange juice. You poured a glass and leaned against the counter with a deep exhausted sigh. 

Ping. You checked your phone immediately. 

> You told me you always turn off the phone in meetings. What happened, Y/N? <

Crap, he was good. 

> Nonono I’m good! I just forgot, I’m just human you know? <

Hopefully he’d be fine with this explanation. You really appreciated him, but right now you needed some time alone. To figure out how to gather the strength to talk to Tony. The thought of his usually friendly expression now icy and disappointed as he fired you made you shiver. You didn’t want this at all. Then again, who would? 

Your phone rang. No. Not now. You declined the call and huffed, took another sip of orange juice. 

The fourth time it rang you gave up. 

“Hello?" 

"Darling”, the caller said in his softest voice, “what happened?" 

"Nothing. I’m good, thank you." 

He was silent for a few seconds. It was long enough to make you wonder whether he’d hung up already. Eventually he spoke. 

"You’ve been crying. I hear it in your voice, don’t deny it. And please…don’t lie to me." 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath. Even if he was thousands of miles away he was  great at reading people.

“I got embarrassed, that’s all”, you eventually replied. Your voice was thin and high and you felt the tears rise up again.

“So, what happened”, he asked again, even softer this time. And then he waited as you cleared your throat and searched for the right words. Words that would deliver the truth, but not make him worry any more than he already did.

“I was a bit late to the meeting”, you began hesitantly.

“That doesn’t sound like you”, Loki said and you imagined him frowning. “And that’s not what made you cry. You’re stronger than that.” It wasn’t a question.

“No…I haven’t told anyone I was with you and Thor. Dr Strange doesn’t talk much to the Avengers if he doesn’t have to, so nobody knew where I’ve been. I missed work. I…I might have ruined a company”, you said and couldn’t steady your voice, it cracked.

“Y/N, I think you’re amazing, but are you sure you have that much of an impact? I admit I didn’t think of any consequences to your visit, but sure it will be fine. You might get a lecture about being responsible, but I am certain you didn’t do enough damage to justify any worse punishment.”

He seemed certain indeed, and he spoke so calmly it frustrated you. He wasn’t here. This was not his pot of tea right now, and even though you appreciated the advice he had never had to work a job like you, and he knew little about the hierarchy in a company.

"Loki… love, I’m about to lose my job. I really don’t feel like chatting about it anymore, please respect that. I’ll call you tonight, okay?" 

He sighed deeply, as if something was very heavy on his soul. He cared so much.

"Fine darling. But be aware that I am not happy about this. I want to be there for you." 

"I know”, you sniffled and tapped your finger nervously on the counter you were leaning against. “I’ll call you. Bye." 

"Goodbye”, he replied. 

“Oh, and Loki?" 

"Yes?" 

"Thank you." 

You hung up and put the phone down next to your glass carefully, then put your face in your palms and sighed. 

"It’s inevitable Y/N”, you mumbled into the room. “You can either hang around here and pity yourself or you can get back up and regain your composure. Come on, you can do this.” Your body disagreed, you felt empty and tired. You just wanted to sleep. 

“Come on. I’m a fierce warrior, I can handle this.” Oddly enough this one worked. You took a deep breath, finished your orange juice and then grabbed your bag on your way to the bathroom. There you cleaned your face and tried to get rid of the puffiness by dabbing cool water on your skin. Eventually you reapplied your makeup and ended up looking human again. If Tony would let you go, you’d at least not look like a complete mess. He wouldn’t see you cry. 

When you left the bathroom you almost smacked into Natasha. 

“Oh God I’m sorry! Are you okay?”, you asked and rose your hands. Nat nodded and reached out to grab your shoulder. 

“I’m good. Are you?”, she replied calmly and examined your expression. You had no doubts she saw that you’d been crying.

“Uh…yeah, I think.”

“Okay. Tony is in his office now. He said whoever saw you could send you in.” Your heart dropped a little. It was time. 

“Hey, if he’s mean, tell me. I’ll kick his ass for you." 

You smiled weakly, she was trying to cheer you up. It wasn’t working well. 

"Eh…I’ll better go”, you murmured and fled to the elevator. When the doors closed and the thing began to move upward you had to fight an anxiety attack. You would not break down at the office. No way. Stupid anxiety. 

In way too little time you’d finished your way and stood in front of the office. The big wooden double door seemed unnecessarily intimidating today. With another deep breath you knocked. 

“You’re a fierce warrior. You can do this.”

[nodesiretogrowup]

alright y’all, time for a Melissa play-by-play. I have a theory about this episode but it will get it’s own post:

And we dive right into spy time

That statue in the fountain was very upsetting :’)

GODDAMN U LAUNCHPAD, U SEXY BEAST

I like that LP says spiffy because I use the word spiffy

DEW-ble O Duck

“What I Dewey best” God I love Dewey and his love of puns

SONG TIME!!!

Ben is a really good singer

I like how the song was foreshadowing things to come

How is she wearing earrings?

A ham on cheese sandwich sounds really good rn

“I can’t remember when I’m hungry” A man after my own heart

YOU DIED

Ok, that game is WAAAAAY too advanced. It has the whole building mapped out and those glasses are WAAAY to small and lightweight to handle all that. Is it all through wi-fi? Am I overthinking the logic of a video game in a cartoon? Probably

“I had a sassy quip and everything.” He has the makings of a superhero in him

“It’s a little too real.” FORESHADOWING! Or the game was already REALLY immersive. OR BOTH

OH GOD LAUNCHPAD IS ALREADY FEELING BAD ABOUT HIMSELF!

“Haven’t you ever wanted to plug into a high-stakes, thrilling adventure?” He’s already done the spy-thing. Though it would have been cool to see Scrooge in a sexy suit

UNCLE MCDEE! I LOVE IT

Then an Uncle Scrooge from Webby. TOO CUTE!

There is A LOT of winking in this episode ;)

“We’re a team” DEWEY IS SO ADORABLE AND WHOLESOME!

Aw, Launchpad

I didn’t notice it the first time, but I love that Steelbeak is using one of those plastic swords to pick his teeth. It’s the little things

Is the theme song gonna be the short version for every episode this season?

I really dig Jason Mantzoukas’ take on Steelbeak. He’s just so cocky yet insecure at the same time. I like his voice cracking when he gets embarrassed or excited 

And I ADORE how UTTERLY STUPID he is. I think he’s dumber than Launchpad because Launchpad is aware that he’s not exactly the smartest guy but Steelbeak GENUINELY thinks he’s smart. Plus he feels the joke. That’s just dumb and unfunny (in-universe at least. out of universe it’s great)

“The Sat-a-Lighthouse. Classic villain lair.” Well we know that’s gonna show up

Bradford’s neck bothers me. It makes my neck hurt looking at it

Intelli-ray. You guys are a bit on the beak nose when it comes to naming things

GADGET!

“Rat’s are dumb, right?” YOU STUPID BEAUTIFUL MAN

THE OTHER RANGERS! And Monterey already has his mustache

Ok how did her hair grow so fast? And did she shave her fur? How did she get a more human-esque figure? I NEED THIS INFORMATION

They Secret of Nimh’ed her!

Heron acts like an annoyed/done mom with Steelbeak and he acts like a snotty kid. It’s great

EVIL LAUGH

“Did that rat make that jumpsuit on a regular sewing machine, or did it build its own tiny sewing machine?” STEELBEAK ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS HERE

I legit thought she was about to pull off his beak

“I’ll go. Not because you told me.” He’s such a punk-ass kid, I LOVE IT

CHOMP CHOMP

DON’T EXPLAIN THE JOKE, BRO

“I pay for the privilege of doing someone else’s yard-work?” THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY, YOU RICH, PRIVILEGED MAN. Whack-a-Mole is actually about expressing all the rage and fury inside you

Video graphic adventures

SKEE BALL! I FUCKING LOVE SKEE BALL

That kid didn’t even take his tickets

Ticket-rich. I love it

LET’S STRETCH BITCHES

“Can’t let Dewey down. Gotta be smart, gotta win the game.” OH LAUNCHPAD, SWEETHEART

“Calm down, LP. It’s only a game.” Dewey is SUCH a GOOD friend!

“But don’t overthink it.” That’s just good life advice in general

I love how tiny Dewey is when compared to LP. It’s ADORABLE

“THEN WE GET PIZZA.” “Yes, pizza.” I don’t know why, but the way Ben delivers that line is hilarious to me

“Pad. Launchpad. McQuack. My name is Launchpad McQuack.” I love you so much

Ok, was there an actual dude there? How could’ve Steelbeak thrown a digital person?

“Yes, I do as well.” YOU DUMB HOE, I LOVE YOU

That card game was great. Truly a battle of wits. And Dewey just being like...what. Beautiful

“Well played.” “It was?”

“Look’s like you’ve been out-smart guyed.” The dialogue in this episode is top notch 

I too do not understand smanzy card games

“But how about a game of 52 pickup...YOUR TEETH!”

“THE PAIN FEELS SO LIFELIKE!”

The sound Steelbeak makes when Dewey pulls on his...hair(?) is great

One day you’ll get to quip Dewey, one day

The cuts between the game reality and actual reality are so great

Is that the Phantom Blot or the normal Funzo? Is there even a normal Funzo?

The neck cracking also made my neck hurt

All the kids gathering around Scrooge is too cute

“Not now lass, I’m on a roll.” SKEE BALL IS A GATEWAY DRUG TO GAMBLING

“I think they just have nachos.” They have pizza too

Steelbeak pecking at Launchpad...brilliant

The little pug/bulldog kid is so cute

The scream when he’s hit with the pizza is gold

That ballpit is terrifying

Yet again Launchpad falls on someone

HE FUCKING PUNCHED A KID! WTF BRO?!

“WE MADE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL!”

Those jumpsuits are pretty nice, ngl

“Nerp”

Launchpad had the right idea, he just fumbled on the execution

Rubix cubes-shorthand for intelligence levels

She is so done with him it’s great

“We can make Scrooge SO HUNGRY, he’ll EAT all the toys!” Solid logic

“Duh, that ain’t smart.” OO, BURN

Whenever anyone/anything grabs Steelbeak’s beak I feel like it’s gonna come off

THE THEME SONG PLAYS! I LOVE IT! IT’S GREAT

How did the others get smart? Where did THEIR clothes come from?! I NEED ANSWERS FRANK!!

Launchpad is always ready to lend a helping hand

HOW DID THE GLOVE FLOAT?! I HAVE SO MANY UNANSWERED QUESTIONS!!!

“The answer was to build a tiny plane and teach a mouse to fly it?” “Yes, I figured that out.”

Is Gadget a rat or a mouse? She looked more mouse-like before she got smartified but Heron called her a rat. EVEN MORE UNANSWERED QUESTIONS! She’s probably a mouse though because that’s what she was in the original show

I don’t know why but I love when people call Launchpad LP. Maybe it’s because he has nicknames for everyone else so him having a nickname is cute

So Steelbeak was in prison in St. Canard. Perhaps he had a run in with a certain terror that flaps in the night? That would be hilarious if the two had met before but now Steelbeak is more focused on Launchpad. That would be a blow to DW’s ego

I kind of feel bad for Steelbeak. Sure he’s dumb but that was uncalled for. No wonder he snapped

“You bird-brained...” Aren’t you ALL bird-brains though? You are birds and you have brains therefore you have bird-brains. That almost feels like it could be a racist comment in this world

“I’M THE RICHEST DUCK IN THE ARCADE!” You were the richest duck in the arcade the moment you walked in

I love when Scrooge gets obsessed with something and loses his goddamn mind

WEBBY YOU CREATED A MONSTER!

“Ticket bin?” “YES!”

322 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT. Good for them

Launchpad just LEEROY JENKENS’ed his way in

His hand is as big as Dewey’s HEAD

LP and Steelbeak have great fight dialogue. It reminds me of Megamind and Metro Man

LAUNCHPAD PUSHES DEWEY TO SAFETY! At that point he didn’t even KNOW what the ray did! But he heroically saved his best friend, not matter what would happen to him! WE STAN! 

 This episode cemented my headcanon that Chris Evans would be the perfect human LP

“I SHALL AVENGE YOU, MY FRIEND” 

This scene, the climax, and the end of the episode gave me a theory, but it will have its own post

British accent=smart?

First thing he does is slick back the hair. Classy

“That cad, Steelbeak” We should call more people cads

How did LP fit into that much smaller man’s uniform? Are they extra stretchy? Because I can totally see that being something FOWL would do. It’s practical

“I don’t know what any of those words mean.” Same

“Heavens, you don’t want them to think you don’t know what you’re doing!” My constant struggle

The supersious guy is adorable

“Well, it’s certainly proving to be bad luck FOR YOU!”

KARATE CHOP ACTION

He still calls him Mr McDee. I just think that’s cute

Dear Dewford. Aww

“I won’t let him down again.” AAAAWWWWWWW

“Can’t go out there looking like this.” You can’t fight crime if you ain’t cute (or sexy in LP’s case)

LAUNCHPAD, YOU SEXY MOTHERFUCKER

That is an old-ass phone you got there, LP

Scrooge is 2 for 2 in missing important calls. Probably should turn his ringtone on

Webby is just so done

“Ah yes, you’d like that wouldn’t you, sonny.” God, Scrooge can get downright FERAL

Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it DW cameo. It looks like Drake’s DW. Does he have merch now? Does he get a cute of the sales? Who makes the merch?

WEBBY WILL FUCKING END YOU

Dewey is SO precious this episode. His cute little bounces

“I’m actually afraid and a little dehydrated, this game is AWESOME” GET THAT BOY SOME JUICE STAT

I love when shows realistically portray sound

“No time for a...crash course” YEEEEEAAAAAAAH

How’d he get a grappling hook?

“THAT’S MY PARTNER!” DEWEY LOVES LP SO MUCH!!

“How is he doing this?” The power of sexy? I don’t know either, bro

“There goes your pal LURCH-POUND! HA! You know, because he just got lurched into that POND OVER THERE?!” “That’s technically a bay.” “I’M NOT STUPID!”

“Classic villain lair!” I can appreciate a man who knows what he’s about

Why do villains alway jump INSTANTLY to the world? You gotta take baby steps. Start with a city, then a state, then the tri-state area a country, THEN the world. Gotta pace yourself

“And Uncle Scrooge only gives us like a nickel each week.” Do they do chores to earn that allowance? I mean, probably. Do Donald and Della have to do chores as well? Give them at least a dime, Scrooge!

MORE SEXY LAUNCHPAD! DAMN YOU, YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN!

“Waaaaiiiit a minute, is that my suit?!” “It suits me better.” DAMN STRAIGHT IT DOES! LP fills the jacket out

I like Steelbeak adding on his fingers

“Your fancy speak won’t work on me, Dummy-O-Duck. Ha-ha, classic.”

“That was totally my plan the whole time” Sweetie, just...no

“I guess you’re not as smart as *voice crack* ME.” “Not as smart as I.” NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR CORRECTING GRAMMAR!

THEY’RE BACK! AND THE THEME SONG! SO BEAUTIFUL!

Again, I thought Steelbeak’s beak was coming off

I like that Steelbeak went into pray position while being shocked

I’m gonna pretend the Rangers were off on their own adventure the whole time’

“Thanks for the...rescue.” AND GADGET SALUTES BACK AND WINKS! BEAUTIFUL!

“No person could survive being that stupid”

Launchpad, always willing to take one for the team

“There’s so much more I could accomplish! Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us! Solve world hunger! Land a plane!” No matter how smart he is, Launchpad still can’t stick the landing

“Launchpad, why are you overthinking this?” “Because I want to be good enough for you!” SOB

“Of course you’re good enough for me. You’re my best friend.” SOOOOOOOOOOB

“For Dewey, and Duckburg.” He put Dewey first, daaaaawwwww

HIM CATCHING DEWEY AND HOLDING HIM TIGHT TO HIS CHEST?! SO WHOLESOME!!

First thing LP does after things go back to normal? Fix his hair. Hair is very important to your state of mind, I guess

“Was it all a game?” Life is just a game

“Wait until I tell Huey I...YOU beat the game.” AAAAWWWWWW

“I’m not playing with anyone but you.” MY HEART!!!!

Scrooge is so broken. And the ticket to prize ratio, too true

“How much money did you spend to get those tickets?” Don’t play skee ball, kids. It will ruin your life

“I don’t think we should bring you here anymore.” Donald should probably be the one picking you up because Della would TOTALLY get hooked on a game/get too aggressive and I could see Beakley falling into the same trap

The comb just sticks there

The subtitles call him Suave-Pad, I LOVE IT!

“I like purple. A lot. Ha! Man, I’m glad I got that off my chest.” A DW reference or a CODEWORD?

“WARM THEM, YOU OLD FOOL! WAAAAARN THEEEEEM! Oh, dash it all, I’m going for a soak.”

“Restoring your ‘intelligence’ as it were.” BURN

She’s on a first-name basis with him...interesting

“OR ANY KINDS OF RAYS!” No mad sciencing here

“Who’s stupid now?” Gloating is very unbecoming

There are...certain people I wish I could force to shut up like that

His muffled screaming is great

Again, Rubix cube solving proves intelligence

How did he not notice it was wet when he picked it up?

I NEED THE SONG IN FULL SOMEWHERE TO DOWNLOAD

This one was super fun and emotional. I was not expecting this to be the episode that the Rescue Rangers would make their debut in but I’m glad they were here. Dewey and Launchpad’s friendship is so pure and adorable. I almost wish there hadn’t been a b-plot but it was fun. I know other people are upset over Steelbeak/the Rescue Rangers being different but I like them. This show is different from those shows. Steelbeak was repurposed into being Launchpad’s nemesis so he needed to match him. Plus we already have a bunch of smarties in FOWL. And this Steelbeak seems younger and less experienced so it would make sense that he’s not as clever. The Rangers didn’t really change that much from their show, just got a new origin that helps them fit into the world that has already been set up. I think this episode is going in the top 5.

[amaranthinecanicular]

hero worship

And now for our main story: a sudden and potentially devastating attack in Downtown Tokyo last night was thwarted by pro hero Red Riot of the Ground Zero Agency, in a feat of heroics so miraculous, it may have to be seen to be believed.

That’s right. Some experts are already predicting a dramatic shift in the Hero Billboard Chart, and after watching this footage, I think my antennae might be detecting a change in the wind, wouldn’t you say?

Ha ha, I think I’d say that pro heroes Deku and Ground Zero better watch their backs if they don’t want to lose their Billboard slots. Please be warned, this footage may not be suitable for young audiences.

[I didn’t realize it was @krbkweek2020, but now that I know, this fic’s perfect for Day 3: Tragic Love. Continue under the read more or on ao3. Warnings in the tags.]

:

one.

He dreams of things that happened. He dreams of things that didn't. He dreams about Kamino, and he dreams about hands reaching for him, and hands and hands and hands, and he dreams about falling, about his fingers not reaching Kirishima’s fingers, about reaching Kirishima’s fingers and watching them disintegrate.

It’s two in the morning. Bakugou is sweating cold. He is staring at his hands. They light up the dark with twitching firecracker-pops and they won’t—stop—

And then Kirishima, through the door: “I have them too.”

Bakugou’s hands lie still and quiet.

He gets out of bed. Goes to the door. Stares at the thin line of gold spilling in from the hallway, split in two by the person on the other side. He considers telling him to fuck off. He doesn’t.

If Kirishima is surprised when Bakugou opens the door, he doesn’t show it. There are sleepless purple smears beneath his eyes. His stupid hair, his stupid crocs. His jaw is set, and he doesn’t flinch away from Bakugou’s gaze.

“Well?” growls Bakugou.

“I could hear you through the wall,” Kirishima says. “I just wanted to let you know that I have them too.”

“Why the fuck should I care?”

Kirishima doesn’t blink. “I just wanted you to know.”

Then he does blink. “Wow, do you always sweat so much in your sleep? Dude.”

Bakugou tries to slam the door; it bounces off of Kirishima’s croc. He laughs, and Bakugou scoffs in disgust, but when he heads back into the room he lets Kirishima follow.

They—talk. That’s all. Kirishima is a fucking idiot, but he’s easy to talk to. They talk about school, and the new moves they’re perfecting, and the test next week Kirishima will need extra tutoring for. They talk about their plans to go hiking on the next break, and the prank Mina pulled on Kaminari, and can Bakugou recreate that one thing Lunchrush made on Monday? Yes, and he’ll do it better.

Around three thirty they’re still talking. They talk about the ash on the walls. They talk about Kamino. They talk about nightmares. I have them too, that was what Kirishima said, and it was like he was offering his hand all over again. I have them too. No pity. No accusations. I have them too—setting them on equal ground. That was why Bakugou opened the door. That was why he took his hand.

Kirishima dreams about the same things he does. Grasping for each other and failing to reach. “It’s never that you’re too weak,” he says. “It’s always that I’m not strong enough.”

Bakugou doesn’t know when he falls asleep. All he knows is that when he wakes, with sweat on his brow and shadows in his skull and his hands sparking and unable to stop, Kirishima is still there. He’s holding Bakugou’s hands. Nothing is burning. Nothing is turning to dust.

“You’re going to be okay,” Kirishima says. Like it’s certain. Like it’s fact. Like it’s already happened, and Bakugou wonders if he missed it, somehow, between the kidnapping and the rescue. Between the loss of All Might and the start of the nightmares. As though Kirishima can still see a future that Bakugou himself has lost sight of.

He hates himself for that, and he hates Kirishima too, except for how he doesn’t.

You’re going to be okay, says Kirishima, and when he says it Bakugou believes him. He promises himself that he’ll never tell Kirishima exactly how much he needs to hear it, but he suspects he knows already. Usually Bakugou would resent that. He doesn’t.

:

And now for our main story: a sudden and potentially devastating attack in Downtown Tokyo last night was thwarted by pro hero Red Riot of the Ground Zero Agency, in a feat of heroics so miraculous, it may have to be seen to be believed.

That’s right, Joho-san. Some experts are already predicting a dramatic shift in the Hero Billboard Chart, and after watching this footage, I think my antennae might be detecting a change in the wind, wouldn’t you say?

Ha ha, I think I’d say that pro heroes Deku and Ground Zero better watch their backs if they don’t want to lose their Billboard slots, Matagiki-san. Please be warned, this footage may not be suitable for young audiences.

:

Aiko-chan today at 10:14 AM DUDE GUESS WHERE I AM

Me today at 10:19 AM i think you have english rn??? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Aiko-chan today at 10:20 AM English can suck it my contact gave me a tip that the convenience store by my house has a very exclusive back door item so I’m waiting on a line that goes around the block

Me today at 10:25 AM oh you have a “““contact””” huh

Aiko-chan at 10:25 AM Stfu you know it’s hanakawa now do you want to know what the exclusive item is or not

Me today at 10:27 AM yes pls

Aiko-chan at 10:27 AM Red Riot limited edition winter costume figurine

Me at 10:27 AM JFKSJ HOLY FUCK

Aiko-chan at 10:28 AM Do you want me to get you one

Me at 10:28 AM GET ME TEN

:

Posted by Uwasa K. | K.O! Magazine | June 18

For the first time in a long time, (since the end of All Might, perhaps?) the future of our heroic society is uncertain. That’s why Knock Out! Magazine sat down with our favorite statistical analyst on all things hero, Takei Kazu! Join us as we get the scoop on the hot hero must-haves of the season, Ground Zero’s fall from grace, the future of the hero industry as we know it, and of course, everyone’s favorite hero, Red Riot!

K.O!: As always it is an honor to speak with you, Kazu-san!

KAZU: As always it is 100% a pleasure for me as well.

K.O!: For those unfamiliar, would you please tell us a little about your quirk?

KAZU: Of course. My quirk, Statistic, allows me to determine the statistical likelihood of any given outcome, in any given situation.

K.O!: You’re famed for your shockingly accurate heroic projections, but what put you on the map was your legendary prediction of All Might’s meteoric rise, would you say that’s correct?

KAZU: I would. And at a time when he was overseas and most others considered him an outlier at best, mind you.

K.O!: How could we forget! With that in mind, we have to ask: what insight can you give us to the future of our beloved heroes?

KAZU: Regarding the most recent UA sports festival, I’d say there’s an 80% chance that Aizawa Eri is the hero-hopeful to keep an eye on. Over in the professional hero world, I predict that Real Steel will rise one slot in all official rankings, while Deku’s rising star shows zero chance of falling any time soon. But these statistics are mundane—odds are you want my take on higher-stake situations.

K.O!: I’m sure our readers agree with you! Please enlighten us.

KAZU: Let me just say this: if Ground Zero continues on the warpath as he has, the country’s crime rate will see a dramatic decline. However, his approval rating will likewise plummet, as will the statistical likelihood of his surviving the year. I leave the public to decide if the tradeoff is worth it.

K.O!: I see! And can you put a rest to our readers’ fears of Ground Zero turning villain?

KAZU: In this case I’d rather abstain from giving any specific percentages, as I have no wish to cause a panic. All I will say is that though the likelihood is not 100%, it is not 0% either. On a brighter note, I can say with 100% confidence that the value of all Red Riot merchandise will dramatically increase.

K.O!: You heard it here first, folks: the gift of the season will be any and everything Red Riot, so you better get your shopping done now! Kazu-san, do you have any thoughts regarding the rumors that Red Riot’s heroism on May 14th will earn him the coveted No. 1 spot at the next JP Hero Billboard Chart event?

KAZU: That would be unprecedented given the circumstances, but as of right now I’d say chances are around 30%, and rising every day.

K.O!: Many of our readers are worried about the state of the hero industry. What do you have to say to them?

KAZU: Given Ground Zero’s current behavior, I can see how the future might seem bleak. Find comfort in the knowledge that if the Ground Zero Agency keeps turning out heroes of Red Riot’s caliber to counteract the Ground Zeros of the world, the future of the agency, professional heroes, and Japan looks bright indeed.

:

An excerpt from Echoes of All Might, by Tokuda Taneo:

Of course no analysis of All Might’s lasting influence would be complete without discussion of his successors. Many scholars, heroes, and experts smarter than I have drawn parallels between All Might’s famed debut and any of several incidents in Deku’s youth and professional career; just as many publications have compared All Might’s debut to heroic moments throughout Ground Zero’s life. These positions have been well-argued and well-defended. It is not my intention to detract from the accomplishments of either of these heroes, nor am I suggesting that either of them are undeserving of the title of All Might’s successor. Rather, I propose that there is a third hero who is equally worthy of the mantle of Symbol of Peace, and, in this specific instance, more worthy of the rank of Number One Hero: Kirishima Eijirou, otherwise known as Red Riot.

Consider All Might’s debut. That impossible, miraculous feat of heroism. Over one hundred civilians saved, single-handed. Do you remember the first time you watched it? Do you remember how many times you hit replay? Do you remember the feeling of hope it evoked? In this post-All Might age we find ourselves in, it may be difficult to imagine just how monumental a moment it truly was. No one had ever seen anything like it; it was unprecedented. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he did it.

This is what you must understand about the events that took place on May fourteenth of this year: what Red Riot did shouldn’t have been possible.

An alumnus of the UA class forged through particular adversity, Red Riot cofounded the Ground Zero Agency and proceeded to rise to number eight on the Hero Billboard Chart over the course of the next decade. He was well known for his close personal relationship with Ground Zero, and perhaps less well known for his exceptionally well-rounded performance in all factors contributing to his prestigious Billboard rank: an admirable number of resolved cases, an approval rating below only Lemillion and Nejire-chan, and an underappreciated record of social contribution, which included hundreds of hours of community service. Among fellow heroes he was noted for his friendliness and his straightforward personality. It would not be an understatement to say that he was widely admired, even beloved.

By all projections and statistics, Red Riot was an excellent hero, but let it be clear: what he did on the fourteenth of May should not have been possible. He was outranked by two of his teammates. His quirk, though undoubtedly strong, was not flashy, nor particularly versatile. If even one professional says they thought he could hold off four of the best heroes in the country, on his own, in addition to the rookies Axis turned, in addition to the civilians Axis turned, for three quarters of an hour, without a single casualty—to be quite honest, they’d be lying. This should have been a tragedy of epic proportions. The Ground Zero Agency should have painted Tokyo red long before anyone could stop them. This should not have been possible.

But he did it. And he gave us hope.

Does that remind you of anyone?

:

More reports this morning of Ground Zero allegedly assaulting fans. While Red Riot’s popularity continues to skyrocket, the current Number One hero’s approval rating continues to plummet.

Personally I think his behavior is a real insult to Red Riot’s name, Matagiki-san.

I agree, Joho-san. Maybe someone is getting a little jealous of the shift in spotlight?

Ha ha, your words, not mine. Let’s go live with Izumi-san on the streets of Tokyo to hear what the people have to say. Izumi-san?

:

Aiko-chan today at 10:28 AM Are you sure about 10 tho they’re like triple the usual price

Me today at 10:29 AM T E N ILL KEEP ONE AND MY BROTHER CAN SELL THE REST ONLINE FOR $$$$$

Aiko-chan today at 10:31 AM … :/

Me today at 10:31 AM wat

Aiko-chan today at 10:33 AM Nbd just. Isn’t that in poor taste??

Me today at 10:34 AM no way dude red riot was the people’s hero he’d want us to make bank

Aiko-chan today at 10:37 AM Ye I guess you’re right. Hey aren’t you in history right now shouldn’t u be paying attention

Me today at 10:37 AM fuck history this is LIMITED EDITION WINTER COSTUME RED RIOT

Aiko-chan today at 10:37 AM I KNOW!!!

:

GroundRiot Touching Moments Compilation ENG SUB 504k views - 1 month ago rred_zer0 20.6k followers

A little softer compared to my other compilations, in the wake of everything that happened yesterday. Red Riot, you’ll be in our hearts forever. TW: BLOOD, GORE, FOUL LANGUAGE

102k likes - 1k dislikes Share Download Save 11k comments Add a public comment

pastel gal 1 month ago Thanks @rred_zer0 for coming into my home and punching me in the heart 4k likes • dislikes • reply view 13 replies

gzrrrr55 1 month ago The joy and heartbreak this awakens in me is just *chef kiss* the perfect combination. @rred_zer0 you’re doing the lords work 2.6k likes • dislikes • reply view 33 replies

RazzleDazzleDeku 3 days ago honestly FUCK ground zero 2k likes • dislikes • reply view 12 replies

riotwaifu 1 week ago 4:16 do you SEE those abs UNF the world lost so much on May 14 T.T 324 likes • dislikes • reply view 9 replies

Lemonllion Ok i’m not the only one who thinks some of these clips are really personal right??? Like,,, is it just me?? Who else thinks this is kinda inappropriate??? 3 likes • dislikes • reply view 64 replies

Hana Spring 2 weeks ago ive said it before and ill say it again, these two are soulmates. fight me. 2.4k likes • dislikes • reply view 15 replies

sirthatsmyemotionalsupportbastard 1 month ago rip red riot long live groundriot 599 likes • dislikes • reply view 6 replies

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In defense of Ground Zero Posted by wtrhse1212

So a lot of people have expressed disapproval over how Ground Zero has been handling and reacting to the May 14 incident. I don't usually like to get involved in this discourse bullshit, especially where it involves Ground Zero, because full disclosure: I think the guy’s a prick. If you follow me or know me from the boards then you know how I feel about him and his alleged treatment of Deku in the past. Those feelings haven't changed, but come on. The guy doesn't care for popularity and public opinion so he's not going to say it. Fine. I will.

Leave him the fuck alone.

First of all, reports have been exaggerated. Do a little research (and because most of you are lazy assholes I’ve included sources below) and you’ll find that he didn’t “assault” anyone. The worst he did was a threatening light show. And if that counts as going overboard to some fans, well, honestly? They deserved it.

I don't talk about this much but I've got some skin in the game. My parents were pro heroes who died on duty, and for most of my childhood, I hated the whole institution. I couldn't understand why people told me I should be proud of my parents’ sacrifice instead of being allowed to mourn. Why my family tragedy was celebrated instead of discouraged.

Thanks to Deku, most of my opinions regarding heroes have changed, but this one stuck. What happened to Red Riot was a tragedy, and it should be treated as such. That's not to say he wasn't heroic, and that his actions shouldn't be honored. It's to say that right now is a time for solemnity, not celebration. It's to say that it is a major flaw in our society that martyrdom is so encouraged. It's to say that Ground Zero shouldn't have to deal with rabid hero fanboys coming up to him and asking for a play by play of Red Riot’s death, as though he were a character on a saturday morning cartoon instead of a real person with real loved ones who are just trying to get by in the wake of his loss.

I don't blame Ground Zero after all the shit we've put him through. Leave him alone. Let him grieve.

TLDR: We shouldn't be encouraging our heroes to die for us. And we certainly shouldn't condemn our heroes for mourning.

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:

two.

An excerpt from HERO Tonight’s interview with Chargebolt and Cellophane of the Ground Zero Agency:

HERO Tonight: Joining us now are pro heroes Chargebolt and Cellophane. Welcome heroes, and let me start by thanking you, of course, for all you do.

CHARGEBOLT: Ha ha, you’re welcome!

CELLOPHANE: All part of the job.

HT: This is the first interview anyone from the Ground Zero Agency has given since the incident on May fourteenth. Would you mind if we get right into it?

CELLOPHANE: Fire away.

HT: Can you tell me about Axis?

CHARGEBOLT: Ooh, I wish Deku were here, he’s the one you want to talk to when it comes to hero and villain stats.

CELLOPHANE: Yeah, but his fanboyism is part of his charm, right?

HT: I think we all want to hear from you two. The villain?

CELLOPHANE: Well, as far as his history and personality goes, I can’t say much. I know a lot has come out about him in the past few weeks, but honestly I haven’t really been paying attention. I think all of us at the Ground Zero Agency have been a little… preoccupied.

CHARGEBOLT: Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Look, I don’t know where he came from or why he did it. I can’t tell you about his tragic backstory because I just don’t care. You want me to talk about what it was like fighting him, what it was like being under his quirk’s influence, that I can do. But he wasn’t the star of that night. That was Red Riot.

HT: Of course. In that case, let’s go back to the beginning. When you responded to the call, did you have any idea the night would turn out the way it did?

CHARGEBOLT: Hell no. They tell you to prepare for things like this, say it's inevitable, but I don't think anyone ever can. Not really.

CELLOPHANE: Yeah. Any inkling of how bad things were going to get only started when I saw the villain with my own eyes. Until then it was just another night on the job.

HT: Can you elaborate on what tipped you off?

CELLOPHANE: It was a couple of things, I guess. Not the report itself, that was vague, a villain with a personality affecting quirk that—supposedly—required skin-to-skin contact to activate. He had taken down a few local heroes. No casualties reported. But when we got there, the atmosphere—the movies like to put the big villains in downtown Tokyo, but the truth is, most of them know better. And the few who risk it usually don’t understand the lay of the land yet, so they get taken down pretty fast. Of course there are cases like the League of Villains, but—

HT: Those are few and far between?

CELLOPHANE: Exactly. So civilians treat it like a spectacle. You come to expect that. But that night…

CHARGEBOLT: Silence.

CELLOPHANE: Silence. No one. The few civilians we saw fleeing from the scene—they didn’t speak to us, they didn’t look at us. They didn’t even scream. Just blind terror.

CHARGEBOLT: Their heroes had turned on them. What else would you expect?

:

There are different videos. Different shots and angles that capture different moments and perspectives and emotions. Each of them have millions of views.

But the video, the one the news pulls clips from, the one everyone has seen and seen again, goes like this:

There’s a civilian hiding in an alley. The video opens with a shaky shot of her face, tear-streaked and wild-eyed. Her quirk is a thin film of slime that activates as a fear response; experts will agree that this is what protected her from Axis. She says that the heroes have gone wrong, that everything’s gone wrong. She apologizes to her mother if she doesn’t make it out of this.

Heavy footsteps. The camera swings around. The mouth of the alley offers a perfect view of the Ground Zero Agency landing in full force, fog billowing dramatically as they stand in such a way that will be ripped and framed and sold on posters for months to come. The Ground Zero Agency, the posters will say, in bold, dynamic letters across the bottom. Some will include the subtitle: Founding Members. Or: Together for the last time. None of them will be approved by the agency itself.

The civilian whimpers the name, Ground Zero, a perfect little sound bite of relief and joy and fear.

Ground Zero himself shouts down the villain. The man who will later come to be known as Axis is no more than a shadowed silhouette half a block away, saying nothing. The heroes ready themselves to spring into action, and then they go wrong.

The resolution isn’t high enough to tell whether the effects take in Chargebolt or Alien Queen first. A shiver seems to ripple through them at the same time. Then Alien Queen swings around and her hand melts right through Cellophane’s visor.

There’s shouting. Cellophane writhing, screaming. Red Riot and Ground Zero in tandem: Ground Zero setting off localized explosions to force Alien Queen back, while Red Riot ducks in and barrels her out of frame. In the background, the darkness lights up all at once, and the flash of electricity blinds the camera. The civilian yelps as the electric wave rolls out to shock her feet. The camera drops. More screaming, and Ground Zero’s voice: "It’s the fucking mist, keep clear of it—"

When the civilian picks up the camera again, Ground Zero is fighting off both Chargebolt and Alien Queen while Red Riot drags Cellophane to the mouth of the alley and speaks to him urgently. Steam drifts out of the melted ruin of his visor.

There’s no warning. Cellophane moves with unnerving, spider-like efficiency, and in seconds Red Riot is mummified. In seconds more Cellophane rigs a noose from the roof, winds it around Red Riot’s neck and levers him six feet off the ground, kicking wildly.

Ground Zero roars Red Riot’s name. He tries to close the distance but Alien Queen and Chargebolt are unrelenting, and his movements are backlit and blurred. He’s on the defensive.

“Riot!” he calls again.

A tearing sound. The camera refocuses: Red Riot, his body sharper than before, bulkier, geode. He goes Unbreakable and shreds through every layer of tape at once. His boots crack the ground. Red Riot roars, and beneath it is Ground Zero, howling with laughter.

“You are fucked,” he snarls, maybe to the villain or maybe to his teammates, just as Red Riot launches into the fray.

For thirty seconds: Red Riot and Ground Zero, fighting back to back. Thirty seconds: fans and specialists alike will narrow in on these moments with wistful nostalgia, this maneuver, that combo move, just look at how well they knew each other, how evenly matched they were, look at the breathtaking intuition, practically premonition, the country isn’t likely to see another superhero teamup of that caliber anytime soon. For thirty seconds, it is Ground Zero and Red Riot against the world.

Cellophane catches Ground Zero’s ankle in a loop of tape, and he hits the concrete hard. The mist sweeps over him. He rises a second later, still swinging, and in the background Axis tilts his head. It’s barely a warp of shadow, the resolution is so poor, and then Ground Zero goes wrong.

It would take a few replays at half speed to see what happens, that’s how subtle the shift is. He doesn’t even twitch. One moment Ground Zero is holding off Cellophane, and the next he reaches over his shoulder and engulfs Red Riot in heat and flame.

:

CHARGEBOLT: Axis wasn’t a big guy. He wasn’t flashy. He was just—a guy. Nondescript. Suit off the rack. Kind of scrawny. But there was menace coming off him. This oppressive atmosphere of bloodlust just, pouring out of him, weighing everything down. You could taste it. But we deal with a lot of villains like that, right? No big deal. But his eyes—

CELLOPHANE: They were dead. There was nothing in them. Just this flat certainty that he was going to kill us. He wasn’t happy about it, or sad, just—certain.

CHARGEBOLT: I tried to shake it off, but by then his quirk already had me, though I didn’t know it yet.

HT: Let’s discuss his quirk. It has become synonymous with his villain name: Axis. Would you call that an accurate title?

CHARGEBOLT: As accurate as a snappy buzzword can get, I guess.

HT: Our reports say that the bloodlust you mentioned was part of the quirk. The fog on the streets that night was coming from his body, and if absorbed through the skin it switches the morality of the intended victim, by the villain’s choosing. What was it like being under the influence of a quirk like that?

CELLOPHANE: Horrific.

CHARGEBOLT: You don’t know it’s affected you at first, is the thing. You still feel like you. Some—switch flips inside your head and you have no idea. You turn and attack your best friend and it’s the most natural thing in the world. And that little voice inside you that tells you right from wrong, that voice that you learn to trust the most as a hero—it only starts screaming after it’s over, and you see what you’ve done. After it’s too late.

:

Alien Queen tackles Red Riot past the mouth of the alley. Offscreen there’s the sound of hissing, audible even over Red Riot’s roars of pain. He’s already taken down the first responders, and Chargebolt, and Cellophane. The civilian is still clutching her phone, though she doesn’t seem to realize it.

Red Riot and Alien Queen swing back into view as Riot crashes into the side of a car. He double takes, turns, and tears one door off; a father and son tumble out. He tells them to run, and when Alien Queen tries to follow, he throws the door at her. A second skin of acid shimmers over her body and then the door is shearing in two, each half blasting into the building behind her. He doesn’t give her time to recover, follows up like a rocket, and if you slow down the video you can see them reach for each other, see them make contact at almost the same time. Alien Queen claws at his face, burns him from hairline to chin. Riot drives a fist into her nose, melting his knuckles down to the bone. She drops, and Riot turns and leaps and tackles Ground Zero out of the air.

At this point, the civilian’s phone has been recording for twenty seven minutes. It will record for nineteen minutes more. All of it is devoted to Red Riot’s fight with Ground Zero.

:

HT: From start to end, the fight went on for forty three minutes. That’s forty three minutes of Red Riot holding off his teammates—fellow Top Twenty heroes—as well as amateur hero first responders and hostile civilians. How is it that in all that time no one came to provide back up?

CELLOPHANE: There were a lot of different factors. A big one was poor communication. There was no one immediately in the area—the villain had already taken over the local heroes, and no one thought the Ground Zero Agency wouldn’t be able to handle it. By the time our call for backup got out, the closest hero was ten minutes away, and the closest hero with a quirk actually suitable to combat Axis was even further. Two poorly informed heroes did actually jump in, and Riot was forced to handle them too.

CHARGEBOLT: Hell, we said the original report was vague, right? If communications were better from the get-go, if we had known what we were walking into, everything would have been different. We were led to believe that the Axis quirk required skin-to-skin contact. Red Riot fights most often in close quarters, so we suggested he take the night early.

CELLOPHANE: It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, or that he’d be a risk or a liability—he said he wouldn’t let the villain touch him and that was that. It was just… he’d had a great week, you know? Look back at that week’s stats, he was killing it. He deserved a break. We said we could handle it. But he just did that signature move of his—that fist bump thing, you’ve seen it, right? And he insisted.

CHARGEBOLT: And we just… let him.

HT: And thank goodness you did.

CHARGEBOLT: Right. Thank goodness.

:

As the fight goes on Red Riot’s skin chips off in fractals, from his arms, from his chest, slivers at first and then in great shattered chunks. He never stops. The wet red flesh beneath crystallizes before the fog can touch it. He never stops.

:

HT: In the weeks since the incident, Ground Zero has become something of a phenomenon. He was the only party involved not to take a leave of absence after the fact. Crime rate is in an exponential decline, due directly to his involvement. But his approval rating has declined as well, and he refuses to give a statement.

CELLOPHANE: Ground Zero has always cared more about doing good work than looking or sounding good doing it. It’s something we at the agency have always admired.

HT: Speaking of, the Ground Zero Agency has recently received criticism for its response to an incident involving Ground Zero and a handful of fans. Do you have any comment on this?

CHARGEBOLT: Comments. Oh, we have comments—

CELLOPHANE: As Alien Queen said in the agency’s official statement, we apologize for any emotional distress those involved may have experienced, but we stand with Ground Zero.

HT: There are rumors of the suspension of Ground Zero’s license. Would you care to comment?

CELLOPHANE: No comment.

CHARGEBOLT: Yes, comment. Put aside the fact that Ground Zero did nothing wrong and consider the fact that this world needs Ground Zero, now more than ever. Anyone calling for his license—the Hero Public Safety Commission, the public, the media—is just stupid.

HT: And what of the recent statistics stating that Ground Zero’s chances of survival have decreased dramatically?

CHARGEBOLT: Kazu is a hack, and so is K.O. Those reports aren’t official.

HT: But it is a compelling report.

CELLOPHANE: An unofficial report. No comment.

HT: Of course. And what of the leaked reports that the villain rate of survival has decreased dramatically when apprehended by Ground Zero?

CHARGEBOLT: That’s not…

CELLOPHANE: Those reports aren’t official either. We have no comment.

:

The young civilian woman leans out of the alley, the phone leaning with her. She’s looking for an opening to run. There are six minutes left. She takes one step. Then another. Ground Zero drops before her on the third, and she yelps, stumbles back; the camera focuses on advancing boots and then the video smears into hot color as the civilian is lifted off her feet. There is one long, nauseous second filled with nothing but screaming, and screaming, and screaming--

Riot charges into the alley, and Ground Zero drops the civilian to spin and fire two Howitzers at point-blank range.

The smoke clears. In frame, on a sharp angle from the ground: Red Riot’s ravaged back, wet muscle exposed and blistering in the heat. But he’s standing, and his hands are gripping Ground Zero’s hands. Muted explosions discharge between their palms. Neither gives ground.

“You’re going to be okay,” Riot grunts. He is speaking to the civilian. “You’re going to get out of this, I promise—”

“Worry about yourself,” barks Ground Zero.

Riot grunts, and then he inhales, a slow, scraping, shuddering sound. The blistered flesh hardens, and he roars, and slams Ground Zero into the wall with such force that the gauntlets smash cavities into the brickface. Ground Zero thrashes and snarls but Riot holds fast.

“Wake up!” he shouts, in a voice like gravel. “Snap out of it! You’re the number one hero, aren’t you?”

Ground Zero bucks; Riot keeps the gauntlets pinned with his weight. The camera can’t catch their faces. There is only Riot’s head bent low to Ground Zero’s ear. Only Ground Zero’s wild blond hair over Red Riot’s shoulder.

“Come back to me,” Riot says, low and urgent. They are the last words anyone but Ground Zero will ever hear him say. “Wake up. Come back to me.”

Ground Zero’s hands, twitching and sparking. His snarling shouts become snarling breaths. The thrashing slows, then stills. Riot’s voice drops in volume and rises in intensity; the phone can no longer pick up the words. One of his hands drops from Ground Zero’s gauntlet to brace on the juncture of his shoulder and neck, pull himself closer. His thumb is pressed into Ground Zero’s jaw. There are wispy, barely-there sounds of the civilian trying not to breathe.

Ground Zero’s arm comes free of the wall with barely a whisper of brick and mortar. His head tips to rest against Red Riot’s, temple to temple, and when he speaks, he sounds very tired.

“AP Shot,” he says, and the light is blinding.

:

HT: Since the incident many have lauded Red Riot as the rightful Number One Hero. Others argue that one act of heroism, however exceptional, does not outweigh a career of heroics, as in the case of All Might, current top hero Deku, and your very own Ground Zero. Where do you stand?

CHARGEBOLT: Are you kidding me?

CELLOPHANE: Chargebolt—

CHARGEBOLT: No, I’m sorry, are you kidding me right now? You’ve seen the footage, right? Of course you have, you all have. How is this even a question? Deku and Ground Zero are top notch, no doubt, but when it comes to being a straight up hero? Everything that entails? That’s Red Riot. The full package. A career of heroics, what kind of bullshit—try a lifetime of heroics, and half of it no one remembers because it happened before he even got his license and the other half no one knows because, what, it wasn't flashy enough? No one cares about how he helped old people with their groceries or found missing pets or spoke at schools about self confidence and bullying or, or how he encouraged everyone he ever met to be better. Just—better. He was my hero before that night and he better be everyone’s hero afterward.

CELLOPHANE: Charge…

CHARGEBOLT: I'm fine! I'm fine. Sorry. I got a little—I'm fine.

HT: …Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but Red Riot definitely is my hero. Thank you both for speaking with me today. Please continue to take care of us.

CELLOPHANE: Thank you for having us.

CHARGEBOLT: Yeah. Yeah, thank you.

:

The light fades. The cracked lens focuses. There is Ground Zero, and there is Red Riot. They’re holding each other. There is a crater in Red Riot’s chest.

“No,” says the civilian. “No.”

Riot’s body is slack in Ground Zero’s arms. Smoke trickles from the entry wound and plumes from the exit wound, and below them, at their knees, the mist is lapping. Ground Zero scrapes a breath into his lungs. He clutches Riot close with one arm, and raises the other against the civilian. Her breath catches.

Two hands come up to frame Ground Zero’s face. Ground Zero falters, and Red Riot cracks their skulls together.

Ground Zero collapses in a nerveless plummet. Red Riot catches him. The hollow in his chest is ragged, seared flesh and bloody red stone. He lowers Ground Zero and then reaches for the civilian, and when they finally leave the alley he curls around her, but there’s no need. There is no one left to fight.

On the other end of the street, like a smear of ash against the burning city, stands Axis, in exactly the same place he’s been all night. When Riot takes a step toward him, the civilian grabs his hand.

“Red Riot,” she says, a warning, a plea, but he just smiles at her. He tries.

He staggers over. Axis doesn’t move. The civilian doesn’t move. Riot is barely standing—when he reaches Axis he almost falls, and has to brace against Axis’s shoulders. Axis watches him. He watches him cough and cough and crumble all over. He watches him draw back a fist and he keeps watching, and he keeps watching, and Riot sinks the fist into his solar plexus, and then it’s done. Axis crumples. The mist dissipates. All that’s left is Red Riot, standing against the sky.

“Riot,” the civilian whispers.

Red Riot falls.

The civilian slips to her knees. There is the sound of movement off camera, a groan, and then an animal cry. Ground Zero blasts past her. His body blocks Red Riot from view, and he’s shouting, he’s screaming, but the civilian’s voice is closer, clearer, and drowns him out:

“Riot,” she whispers. “Riot. Riot.”

The phone slips from her fingers. The lens shatters, and the video ends.

:

:

three.

“Do you ever think about it?”

Kaminari’s eyes are a little too wide. His fingers are twitching, sparking. Bakugou is on patrol because he’s always on patrol. They’re working out a schedule to keep him company.

Kaminari says, “Like, everything, obviously, but specifically do you ever think about the fact that we killed him? Everyone decided to scapegoat Bakugou, but we did that. We all did that. And they still cheer for me in the streets. Do you ever think about that?”

:

The first time Izuku went to Kacchan and Kirishima’s apartment was for a housewarming party.

It was a private thing, only a handful of their closest friends. Izuku bought them a toaster. Kacchan blew it up because he decided he liked the toaster from Sero better. They had champagne, and Kirishima handed out spare keys. When Izuku teared up, Kacchan snatched the key back and detonated it, and Kirishima, without missing a beat, pulled out another.

Izuku turns the key in his pocket now. He knocks again—again no answer. The neighbors keep to themselves, one of the main reasons Kacchan liked the place so much, and no one ogles the number one hero loitering out front. Izuku waits for five minutes. He waits five minutes more. Then he pulls out the key and opens the door.

It’s a crime scene: something that could be an accident if not for the subtle clues that point to arson, the things that so carefully escaped unscathed. A pair of red plastic crocs sitting by the door. The workout weights. A framed poster of Crimson Riot. The alarm clock with two flexing arms poking out.

Everything else is melted or charred or black. There are holes in the walls where fire chewed through. The refrigerator is sad and slumped over, forever drooping where the stainless steel melted and cooled into its new position. The television is smashed and the chairs are ashy splinters. Most of the doors have been blown off their hinges, and the oven is a husk—if the stove still works, which Izuku doubts, it would probably just light the place up all over again. Not that he thinks it could do much damage.

He should leave. He should come back when Kacchan is in. His feet carry him further inside, to the wall of photographs, and his boots leaves footprints in the soot. Most of the photos are gone now, but Izuku remembers there was a subtle pleasing aestheticism to them, proof that Kacchan excels in interior design, as he does in everything else. There were snapshots from high school, their class and their teachers. Kacchan and him as children, brandishing nets and stag beetles. Individual candids of Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero. Beautiful landscape views that balanced out the portraits—Kirishima and Kacchan liked to go hiking together—and most of them are on the floor, now, glass shattered and paper warped and blackened.

Izuku reaches for one of the survivors. It’s blurry, tilted and off-center. Half the frame is taken up by Kirishima’s laughing face, while the other half is crowded by Kacchan’s wild grin flashing over Kirishima’s shoulder. Between them: Kacchan’s middle finger, flipping off the camera. They were the hero community’s best and worst kept secret: the pros all knew and the tabloids suspected, but no news outlet worth their weight could scrape enough evidence together to print a story. They didn’t wear rings; there was no PDA. They took painstaking care to ensure that no one knew they lived together. Eventually the hurricane eye of the hero newscycle moved on, but now they’ve picked it up again, determined to wring as much drama from the story as possible. Izuku’s eyes feel hot.

The smell hits him like a fist: smoke, chemical, gunpowder. It’s a taste on the air, oil that won’t wash clean. He spins around.

Kacchan is standing in the doorway. He’s staring.

:

“We didn’t kill him,” Sero says. He is patient and smiling. He’s always smiling. Mina doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling since the day the world imploded, and she doesn’t think he’s ever looked so tired.

Sero says, “It was a villain. It was a quirk. That wasn’t Bakugou and that wasn’t us.”

“We did though,” says Kaminari. “We killed him. We did. It didn’t even feel wrong.”

Mina lays a hand on the back of his neck, and he looks at her, desperate in a way she can’t define.

“They’re still cheering for me,” he says again.

“I know.”

“We did it, Mina. We all did. But they’re still cheering.”

“I know.”

:

Mina is on patrol with Bakugou.

It’s not the way it was. Of course it isn’t, everything is changed, but how do you prepare for the loss of a best friend? It’s the kind of thing heroes spend their whole lives failing to anticipate. And once you’ve failed, how do you prepare to cope with the living?

There was something equal before, between her and Bakugou. In how they fought, how they conducted themselves in public, with villains, with fans. She didn’t realize she’d taken it for granted--she didn’t know she’d miss it. Now Bakugou apprehends villains before Mina realizes a crime has been committed. He moves on before she can follow. He is machine, and she is left to be human, comforting the victims, dealing with police, running damage control, signing autographs and answering questions and smiling when they cheer for her. She smiles. Why won’t they stop asking about Kirishima? She smiles. She sees what Kaminari meant now. She smiles. How can Sero do this all day?

She catches up to Bakugou on a rooftop, perched like a gargoyle, glaring down at the street and waiting for something to go wrong. He doesn’t blink.

Her smile drops. She slumps against his side. His skin is slick with soot and sweat; the chemical smell of him burns the inside of her nose. He doesn’t push her off. He barely seems to notice she’s there.

Sero says he hasn’t seen the video. His therapist doesn’t recommend it, he says, and he doesn’t want more memories than he has already. Mina thinks she believes him. Kaminari admits that he watched it, though he claims only the once. He also says he’s getting regular counseling. She doesn’t believe him on either count.

She wonders sometimes if Kaminari isn’t the one they should be most worried about. She wonders if she can bring that up with Bakugou, or if that’s one of the things that have changed. She wonders if he will ever allow her to grieve with him--she wonders if the public will ever allow her to grieve at all. She wonders if she’s coping how Kirishima would have wanted.

She wonders if Bakugou has seen the video.

“You don't have to stand fucking suicide watch,” Bakugou says, without taking his eyes off the street. “I'm not that weak.”

“We're not worried about that,” says Mina.

She’s seen the video. Of course she has. There’s a scar on Sero’s face in the shape of her hand. Kirishima’s body, acid-burned and raw. She had to watch it. She had to.

She says, “We just don't want you to be alone.”

Bakugou stares at her. His eyes are hollow.

“Eijirou’s dead,” he says. “I am alone.”

:

“Deku,” Kacchan says, and that’s all he says. Ash falls from his fingers. Izuku didn’t hear him come in.

“Kacchan,” he says, and Bakugou brushes past him into the apartment, without a backwards glance. He doesn’t ask what Deku is doing there. Deku tells him anyway.

“Your mom called my mom.”

Bakugou grunts. “She called me too.”

“She said she couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I didn’t pick up.”

He moves from room to room with machine efficiency. The kitchen: he wrenches open the busted fridge and sweeps a few water bottles and energy bars into his bag. The bathroom: the shower runs for six minutes. He emerges with wet hair, water steaming off his skin, back in his tattered uniform. It was barely enough to rinse off the oily residue of the smoke; the acrid scent keeps clinging. Now into the office. Izuku follows, feeling helpless, feeling six years old on the playground and unable to reach him.

“All Might has been looking for you too.”

“Who gives a shit.”

His voice lacks its usual venom. It lacks—anything. The words rattle around like he’s hollow, like he’s empty.

All Izuku can give him is the truth: “It wasn’t your fault.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer. He doesn’t give any indication that he heard at all—moves around the apartment with eyes that are at once intent and unseeing. Replaces his gauntlets. Replaces his mask. Izuku is sure others have told him the same thing. Did he hear any of them?

Into the bedroom, where Bakugou bee-lines to a dresser. He pulls out a blue muscle shirt and finally takes pause. Lifts it to his nose and breathes deep. There’s a moment of perfect stillness that Izuku couldn’t break even if he wanted to, even if he tried.

“I know it wasn't my fault,” Bakugou scoffs, when the moment passes. He even rolls his eyes, and for a moment he seems so very like himself that Izuku feels an urgent sympathy for the yawning space at his side where Kirishima should be.

“We got bad intel. There was no way for us to anticipate it.”

It’s exactly the right thing to say. Izuku wants to cry. “Kacchan, when is the last time you slept?”

The blue shirt goes into the backpack, an orange shirt is dug out and dumped on the floor. Bakugou starts for the door.

“Kacchan, wait!”

He claps a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder and removes it just as fast, because the palm is raw, the first layer of skin burned away by microscopic explosions, the flesh beneath sizzling. Bakugou stares at the steaming, five-fingered imprint left on his shoulder, blank-faced, rooted to the floor as though by a psychic quirk. The thought makes Izuku feel ill.

Bakugou says, “I keep thinking about the sports festival. The one on one matches. Our first year at UA.”

“What?”

“I was horrible to him. I had him dead to rights half a minute before the match was called and I could’ve stopped but I didn’t. I kept going. I wanted to hurt him just because I could. I never said sorry.”

He blinks, once, slowly. Then he heads for the door.

“Lock up when you leave or don’t. Later, Deku.”

Izuku can't think of a thing to say. It doesn't seem Bakugou wants to hear it either. He’s already gone.

:

:

four.

Three months after Kamino, Bakugou is woken by a nightmare. It is not his own.

Kirishima is sitting up, one leg flung over the side of the narrow twin bed. He’s gasping, hiccuping. He’s clutching at his forearms. The livid red scars are smudged pale in the dim.

“Hey,” Bakugou says, and sits up too. “Hey. Kirishima. It was just a dream.”

He reaches for him, and under his palm flesh ripples into stone and then into flesh again.

“Dream,” says Kirishima. “Wow, right, dream. Right. I had them before but not like—I can’t believe you dealt with this shit for so long. How did you do this?”

He laughs, and Bakugou hates the sound of it, half-hysterical and breathless.

“Shit, man, you’re so manly, how the hell did you do this—”

“Of course I am,” Bakugou grunts. He seizes one of Kirishima’s hands. Knocks their foreheads together.

“Deep breaths. Slow.”

“I don’t—”

“Stop talking. You’re going to pass out, you moron. Like me: deep breaths.”

Kirishima takes deep breaths. He tries. They’re shuddery, but he holds them in his lungs as long as he can, and then lets them go in a long stuttery sigh, over and over. His quirk activates in fits and starts like a jumping muscle.

Bakugou doesn’t know what happened at the internships. The raid. The girl. There are rumors, of course there are rumors. He knows a thing or two about those. But Kirishima’s not allowed to give him details, and in the end all Bakugou knows for certain is the pattern of the scars on his arms, how they map the exact striations of his quirk.

And the nightmares. He knows about the nightmares.

“You made it out,” he hears himself say. “You survived, you won, you’re fucking strong.”

Kirishima presses close, and Bakugou presses his hand, presses his thumb into the scar over his pulsepoint, counts the thumping as it slows. Things would have been different if he’d just gotten his license. He could have been there. He could have fought Kirishima’s nightmares instead of soothing them, he’s always been shit at comforting—

“I’m really happy you’re here,” Kirishima says. His breath fans against Bakugou’s cheek. “I’m really happy I woke up and you were here.”

Bakugou swallows around a dozen false starts. This thing they do, or have, this thing he can’t name—he thought it was a one-time thing after Kamino, but they never kicked the habit. Kirishima kept coming around, and they kept falling asleep, and they kept waking up. What can Bakugou say? He’s glad too. He wants to always wake up beside him.

What he chooses is: “It’s my room, dumbass.”

—which is a stupid thing to say, so he adds in a huff, “Do you always sweat so much? That’s fucking gross.”

Kirishima laughs, and Bakugou relaxes in degrees. That sounds better. That sounds right.

Kirishima lies back down when Bakugou shoves at his shoulder, and he rolls onto his side when he’s elbowed in the ribs. Bakugou lies down too, and then they watch each other. They’re close enough to share a pillow. Kirishima’s quirk has settled. His breathing evens out.

He’s smiling. Bakugou can see the faint outline of it, and abruptly he wants to be asleep, just so he can wake up and see that smile in the daylight.

:

The apartment is just a place to go, impersonal, ravaged. Bakugou goes back because it’s convenient. He restocks on food and water. He downs an energy drink. He replaces the shirt in his pack for a red threadbare tee. He goes to work.

He never took the leave the commission offered him. He didn’t see the point. Maybe it’s ironic that he’s a better hero now than he ever was; in one month he’s put away more villains than he has in the past five. He doesn’t give a shit. Maybe he’s barreling into an early grave. He doesn’t give a shit about that either. It’s not that he has a death wish, not like everyone thinks. And everyone thinks something. They all tell him what they think: He should be proud of Red Riot. He should be ashamed. It was his fault. He’s a villain, Axis only brought it out. He loved Red Riot. He hated Red Riot. He was jealous of Red Riot. Red Riot wouldn’t treat civilians this way. Red Riot wouldn’t treat villains this way. Was he dating Red Riot? What was it like fighting Red Riot? What were his last words to Red Riot, because I’ve watched that video like a million times and my friend thinks you said you’d kill him but I told her you wouldn’t have said that, because you loved him, so if you could settle this bet—

No, it’s not like everyone thinks. It’s just that Eijirou is dead and he stripped all the softness from the marrow of Bakugou’s bones, softness he didn’t even know he possessed. What’s the use of grief, now, or of mercy, what’s the use of anything without him? He looks inside himself and all he sees is the lack.

:

Bakugou can map out this city with their lives together. This four way intersection where the gridlock was so bad that Eijirou gave in to road rage for the first and only time in his life. He swore a blue streak and Bakugou was so delighted he kissed him hard enough to make his own mouth bleed.

That BBQ restaurant where Bakugou got food poisoning. Eijirou laughed and laughed, but he took care of him even when Bakugou spitefully threw up in his hair. There are dumpsters in the back, so he drops behind the building and tucks his backpack between two of them.

The alley where they almost got caught making out on patrol. The other alley where they did get caught, and by Deku, no less. It’s been a long time since Bakugou so sincerely tried to kill him.

That block where Eijirou almost died.

That block where Eijirou did die.

That’s usually where he loses Kaminari, when Kaminari is tailing him. Sure enough, ten minutes later he’s hunting down muggers halfway across the city, and his chaperone is gone. It’s amateur hour—none but the desperate and the stupid are out when Ground Zero is on the prowl. They aren’t worth the sweat it takes to put them down. Maybe he hospitalizes one of the muggers. Maybe he kills the other. Maybe the victim is crying. It doesn’t matter. Eventually Kaminari will catch up and deal with it, or he won’t. He turns to go.

There’s a scuffling behind him—a third villain, how the hell didn’t he notice—Bakugou pivots with a Howitzer already loaded up, and then his knee gives out and his vision goes dark—

It’s only a second, and when he comes to, the victim is wailing and the villain is missing his legs. There’s steel in Bakugou’s ribs. Some cheap goddamn butterfly knife. It’s shallow, treatable, but it shouldn’t have happened. Amateur hour.

Options: go grab his bag and patch himself up on-site, or go grab his bag and give himself proper treatment back at the apartment. Either way step one is the same.

But the bag isn’t there.

Bakugou’s vision swims. It swam when he got food poisoning, when Eijirou helped him stumble out through the back door and he threw up between the dumpsters. Where the bag should be, where Eijirou’s red shirt should be, but it isn’t, and he isn’t, and Bakugou wants to be sick but Eijirou won’t be there to laugh at him and take him home.

Blood pulses in Bakugou’s ears. It fills up his head like a brain hemorrhage until all he can see is red. The thief could be across the city by now, but it doesn’t matter. He could be anywhere in the world and Bakugou would find him. He’ll blacken his bones. He’ll crush his skull.

He does find him, of course. He’s less than five miles away, trudging along a crowded street without a care in the goddamn world. Bakugou combusts the concrete in front of him, grabs him by the collar and then has to grab him by the arms because the clothes sear to ash in his fists.

This fucker thought he could steal from Ground Zero? Bakugou laughs. The thief is going to cook between his hands. Bakugou laughs and laughs.

“Ground Zero, stop!”

Bakugou whips his head around. Kaminari is there, knees bent, eyes wide. Electricity is arcing off his body. Ha. As though he could take Bakugou down. As though the gathering crowd could deter him. As though anything in the world could keep him from roasting this piece of shit villain alive for even thinking he could take Eijirou away—

This—piece of shit villain—

The red bleeds away. Bakugou turns back to the man, and—and he isn’t a villain. He’s homeless. Whimpering. Rattling in Bakugou’s grip. I’m sorry, he’s saying, I thought it was thrown away, I’m sorry, don’t hurt me—

Bakugou drops him. He tears open the bag. Pulls out the red shirt. Presses it to his eyes and holds it. Holds it. His hands are trembling.

When he picks up his head, everyone is staring.

“Keep the rest,” he mumbles, and tosses the bag at the man’s feet. The crowd is stirring, and now there are voices: You should be ashamed. Why can’t you be more like Red Riot? Villain!

A soft drink comes arcing in his periphery and Bakugou vaporizes it without thinking. He ties the shirt around his neck.

“Bakugou,” Kaminari croaks, and Bakugou—goes. And goes. And goes.

:

“You’re going to be okay,” says Bakugou. Like it’s certain. Like it’s fact. Like it’s already happened, but Eijirou missed it, somehow, didn’t get the memo that these wounds will not kill him. There’s too much blood for him to speak but his eyes are sad and his hands are desperate, he presses them to Bakugou’s face, just holding him there, and holding him, and holding him.

“You’re going to be okay or I’ll kill you,” Bakugou sobs, and he hates Kirishima for this, hates him for leaving, hates him for dying, hates him, hates him, no, no wait, don't go, I love you, god, fuck, don’t leave me alone, please—

:

He lands—he crashes. He doesn’t know where. A park. There are flowers. What time is it? Three? Five? No one is out to snap pictures of the number one hero, bone-weary and aching. His legs threaten to give out from under him; his head threatens to roll off his shoulders. He snarls, shakes himself like a dog. Landmarks. He needs a landmark to orient himself. The watery grays and blues of pre-dawn warp familiar sights into eerie ghosts of themselves, but he knows every inch of this city, and if he can just—

There. Yes, he knows exactly where he is. They walked here two years ago, on Christmas Eve. No flowers then, but the park offered a good view of the lights, braided in the trees, frosting the buildings. The bench where Eijirou nodded off on his shoulder is across the park. It wouldn’t take long to get to the apartment from here. Clean up. Sew himself back together. Crawl into bed and close his eyes, just for a minute—

And then he’ll wake up.

Bakugou doesn’t go back to the apartment. He doesn’t bother making his way over to the bench he knows. He collapses into the nearest seat and sears shut the gash in his side, and once that’s done he unknots the shirt and lifts it to his nose. Smoke. Nitroglycerin. He breathes and breathes but Eijirou isn’t there. He isn’t anywhere.

His hand thuds to his lap. He stares at nothing.

A long, thin shadow falls over him.

“My boy. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me.” He doesn’t look up.

All Might lowers himself to the bench with deliberate care. He has a cane that he uses to steady himself; there’s a stoop to his spine. It used to infuriate Bakugou, seeing him so fragile. It took him a long time to realize that he wasn’t.

Silence settles softly. They watch the flowers.

“It’s not the same,” All Might says, “Losing a mother or a friend, and losing a life partner. It’s not the same. In the ways that we are different—I can’t speak to that. I won’t try to.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer.

“But I know what it is to lose someone you would have given your life for. There’s nothing that can compare.”

“You didn’t kill Shimura Nana with your own hands. Nighteye either. Don’t pretend we’re the same.” The words are flat as the side of a blade. All Might does not flinch.

“No,” he agrees, after a time, slow, and heavy. “No, I didn’t. But I know it wasn’t my fault, like you know it wasn’t yours. Not really. And I know how it is to blame yourself anyway.”

Bakugou opens his mouth, but can’t find it in himself to reply. He wasn’t lying to Deku. He knows it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done, and there's a special kind of torture in being so helpless anyway. Sometimes shit happens and the only person you've ever unselfishly loved dies.

His vision is swimming again. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces them open.

“My boy,” All Might says. “When was the last time you took a rest?”

“Don’t need it.”

“I don’t think young Kirishima would have wanted—”

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted. He’s dead.” The fight drains out of him. “None of it matters.”

All Might shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Just because they’re gone, it doesn’t mean they cease to matter.”

“Why should I give a shit what you think?”

“You don’t have to. You have no obligation to me, my boy. I’m just a rambling old man,” and he lays a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, “who loves you both very much.”

Very suddenly Bakugou wishes he’d sat on the bench he sat on with Eijirou. The line of his mouth trembles. He sets his teeth, and grinds them until they ache. “I know what they think of me,” he snaps in the hand’s direction, “None of it’s true.”

“What’s that?”

He snarls. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. They either think I’m sating some newly awoken villain tendencies or I’m a fucking suicide risk. Well, I’m not a villain, and I’m not out here trying to get myself killed. I’m not out for revenge. I’m not running from the fact that he’s dead. I know he’s dead.”

Smoke. He looks down. His hand is wringing the shirt—he unlocks his fingers, stares at the singed fabric. Eijirou has had this thing since he was twelve. He would wear it to bed in the winter, when Bakugou would insist he put on a shirt. The color’s washed out and the seams are stretched to hell. There’s a flaking graphic of Crimson Riot on it.

“I just—”

That stupid shirt. His stupid face, half asleep. His awful morning breath. His smile. You’re going to be okay.

“I just…” Bakugou’s voice splinters. “I just hate waking up without him.”

All Might is watching him; Bakugou can’t bear to meet his eye. It sounds absurd, now that he’s said it out loud. All the sleepless nights. All the desperate hero work. Just to avoid— A laugh barks out of him. It’s hoarse and hot in his throat. All Might’s hand moves from shoulder to neck, grounding, anchoring, folding over the top knob of Bakugou’s spine. Bakugou laughs, and he laughs, and it’s ugly, and it’s wet, and he laughs and it catches and it tears and he curls around it and he cries.

:

:

:

end.

Bakugou has a dream where he wakes up.

It’s morning. The light is smeary and peach-colored. Eijirou is there.

“Mornin’, Katsuki,” he says. He’s fifteen. He’s twenty eight. They’re in the apartment. They’re in the dorm. It doesn’t matter where they are, or when, because Eijirou is here, with his stupid hair and his awful morning breath. He’s smiling.

Bakugou tackles him into the pillows, and kisses him when he laughs, and kisses him, and kisses him, and he says I’m sorry, and Eijirou says for what, and Bakugou says for the sports festival. Our first year at UA. I had you beat and I could have stopped, I should have stopped, but I didn't and it was fucking rotten of me, I just kept hurting you and hurting you and—

Eijirou knocks their foreheads hard enough that Bakugou swears. The pain is clear and sweet.

“Are you done being stupid?” he says. “You never have to apologize for treating me like an equal. You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

Bakugou reaches up to hold his face. Eijirou reaches up to hold his hands. Nothing is burning. Nothing is turning to dust.

“Shit, yeah. We’re gonna be okay. Dumbass.”

“We’re okay?”

“We’re okay.”

:

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Hana no Shou Kazama After Story Translation

My attempt at translating the “Hakuoki Shinkai Hana no shou Stellaworth Early Reservation Bonus" Kazama Chikage Short story [ 薄桜鬼 真改 華ノ章 ステラワース早期予約特典　ブロマイド 風間千景 ] from Chinese to English

Actually finished this before the 2 SSL cross stories... but I’ve decided to pace my translation releases as to not needlessly torture myself. hardy har har. 

Anyway, enjoy this translation....

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

Hakuoki Shinkai Hanashou Stellaworth Early Reservation Bonus Kazama Chikage Short Story

Translation by KumoriYami

In the Satsuma domain, which is located in the southern most part of Kyushu, a secluded mountain is home to the Kazama family that controls the Western Oni clans.

In the Kazama head residence, the identity of Kazama Chikage's wife Yukimura Chizuru who had arrived at the Kazama family/clan, was treated with the utmost of respect by the other Oni clans.

She had grown up as an ordinary girl so far, and for the first time she has been treated like this. She seemed a bit overwhelmed by this. (--> She seemed a bit overwhelmed by this as she had grown up as an ordinary girl and was being treated like this for the first time.)

Once the welcoming ceremony was held/completed, Kazama brought Chizuru to a room.

"Tonight you will rest here. You should be tired after travelling for so long."

He stopped a foot away from the door and spoke.  Chizuru looked anxious as she looked down.

".....Thank you very much for your feelings."

Her tone was very blunt. (Being in) An unfamiliar land, strange dwellings, strange oni.... obviously she (shouldn't be) used to this, but she was still very nervous about being in/(part of) the Kazama clan.

(Forget it, it's only a matter of time.)

As he thought of this, he opened the door.

"Ah..."

Once the room came into view, Chizuru could not help but scream.

There were two sets of covers in the room, ones meant to be used by couples together. [honestly I don’t know what this refers to]

Seeing this scene, Kazama snorted.

"What's the matter/what's going on/wtf? Currying favour like this?"

[(”是想拍馬屁嗎?” is the 2nd sentence here) I've just put down what came to mind.... though it apparently means are you trying to flatter me or someone for the sake of getting a favour done]

He had to blame the people responsible for preparing the room for this. Thinking about it, Kazama stepped into the room.

However, Chizuru still didn't move, remaining standing in front of the door.

"What's wrong?"

"Eh, that's..../ oh, that...."

She spoke hesitantly/nervously. Just looking at her, I could understand what she was thinking.

"I have said before, the "deed" will be done after the wedding. Have you forgotten?"

"I remember..."

"That being the case, you don't need to be so worried... or are you looking forward to it?"

"No, no one is looking forward to it!"

After Chizuru spoke, he shrugged his shoulders, heading into the(ir) room.

(Actually it's a needless worry. Forget it, doing anything (now?) will decrease/damage her value.)

Having said that, this girl could truly be determined in coming to Kazama's village. Kazama felt that this was a bit unexpected.

Before she met Kazama in Kyoto, she knew nothing about being an oni, or the fact that the Yukimura clan was wiped out by humans.

(I originally played around with the Shinsengumi as an excuse to get in touch/interact with them [says them](/her?))

While she was walked her own path, different from that of her twin brother, Chizuru did not lose herself.

Even though she was constantly informed of devastating news about the Shinsengumi, she shed tears and continued forward.

(While she looks like a weak girl, how much power is hidden within (her).... (even)I don't know... )

However before he noticed it, he was already captivated by the firmness in her eyes, and he could no longer look away.

"Um... Kazama-san, how long are you staying here?"

Kazama did not say that he was staying in the room, (causing) Chizuru to feel that he was very suspicious/wary and (she)hesitated as she asked.

"Do you want me to leave so soon? To actually to drive away the fiance away from the woman's room (/boudoir) (before marriage), truly a courteous/proper wife."

"I didn't mean that...! I only thought, with such a long journey, Kazama-san would be tired."

"....ha."

She was still the same as ever. Her words offered a sense of intimacy that made Kazama laugh.

Then he reached out and silently grabbed the girl's chin.

Chizuru was surprised and looked back at Kazama.

"In the future, you will be learning a lot of things as the wife of the leader of the Kazama clan. Since you have come here with me, you must be aware of that?"

His inquiry made Chizuru's expression become serious.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded.

“....Yes, I am very aware of that/these things.”

Kazama was very pleased with her answer.

Then he wordlessly removed the hand that was holding Chizuru's chin.

"Tomorrow I will introduce you to the village/clan's other female oni. The preparation of congratulatory messages, wedding clothes and so on need to be asked about/addressed."

"O-okay!"

Although she responded enthusiastically/cheerfully, I'm afraid (that)/unfortunately she sounded uncertain/nervous.

".....Also,"

Kazama deliberately raised his voice, slightly narrowing his red eyes to look directly at Chizuru.

Upon seeing this, Chizuru's face grew stern in countenance, concentrating as she waited for his next words.

"It doesn't matter how you want to show respect to me, but "Kazama-san" cannot be used to address your husband. You will call be by my name directly from now on."

"Name... that is to say, Chikage-san?"

Chizuru spoke in an awkward/hesitant tone.

"...Ha."

"Why are you laughing? I said it as you wanted it— "

"I am just thinking that your consciousness as a wife was finally born/I am just thinking that you're finally conscious of how you're going to be a wife. You'll be doing this when you serve me in the future [-.- geez this guy. seriously it’s no wonder why harada didn’t like kazama’s behaviour lol]. That's all."

Once Kazama said this, he stood up and left the room.

"Really, why am i doing this..."

After, he heard words that sounded like a complaint from behind him. [?]

The conversation between the two soon to be newly weds was known only by the moon.

--fini--

———————

*sigh* i wanna play FE:Three Houses but i don’t have a nintendo switch or money for the game rn cuz of hakuoki lol...also Yamazaki’s short story is still at 40% since I felt like starting to translating that unknown live drama which so far meant me snipping subtitles off the video for a while....and in other news i hit mastery rank 27 in warframe... and the Star Trek Picard trailer from SDCC2019 WAS FUCKING AWESOME!

[jestbee]

THE FINAL GOOGLE FEUD - timestamps

That video was one of my favourites in a while so here are some timestamps under the cut

They’re quite Phil heavy... for some reason.

00:20 Dan advises we shouldn’t get up to anything we wouldn’t tweet. Phil disagrees and saying you ‘get up to a lot when you aren’t tweeting’ um... what things, Phil?

00:29 they’ve tucked their webcam on the tv away - They’re so into privacy. Not that they’re shouldn’t be, of course, it’s just an observation.

00:43 Phil sometimes runs through the lounge naked when he forgets a towel. I mean the bathroom is on another floor entirely Phil but... good to know.

01:00 Dan says “people aren’t going to delete their hard drives so what are they going to do with these recordings...” I mean, I know he’s talking about the recordings from Siri etc but I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of recordings Dan has on his hard drive he doesn’t want someone getting a hold of 

01:22 Crazy eyes Phil is in full effect in this video. They’re both a mess. I love them. 

01:31 not too crazy to forget getting that spon in though, are you Phil?

01:45 Phil’s northern ‘where my bloody phone’ is just lovely

01:49 Phil’s voice is a lil bit off-camera and I like it

02:03 Dan used to have dry skin, now it’s oily. I think it might be just age mate, mine used to be oily now it’s dry... these things happen. 

02:07 you ‘forgot’ did you Dan? Or maybe you’re not as up on your memes as your purport to be and had to look that one up

02:23 the ice cap was better. Thank you for an opinion, Phil. 

02:38 Dan doesn’t want one of the Try New Things t-shirts. I am disappoint. 

02:42 garbled amazingphilshop.com spon

02:46 I love it when they instantly know which song the other is going to sing and join in. Synchronised

02:54 Phil back with his nipple obssession

02:55 do they call it a Prince Albert in other countries? Do people outside the UK get that joke?

03:00 Phil is offended nipple isn’t included

03:10 “the dirty place” Oh, Phil. Come on. 

03:16 Ladydoor, really? I thought we got past this

03:27 Dan’s whiny little “you don’t deserve it” nice.

03:34 Phil dreams some weird stuff, and Dan is sceptical because he knows all of Phil’s family 

03:52 Phil thinks eyebrow piercings look pretty cool 

03:57 Phil is offended at the idea of people getting BOTH nipples pierced. apparently his nipple obsession only extends to one nipple at a time. 

04:20 Phil calls Dan out for not being cultured. 

04:29 synchronised rocking starts

04:36 synchronised rocking stops

04:49 The phone rings - Phil’s phone voice is adorable 

05:53 This entire section is pure GOLD - Why is Phil so flirty?

05:03 Phil’s “No I can’t, I don’t have legs” reminds me of interactions between @ineverhadmyinternetphase and @charlottekath for some reason. I am surrounded by adorkable nerds who are too cute for this world. 

05:13 them unspokenly knowing they’re doing best of 3 in rock paper scissors... just that long standing tradition going strong to this day. beautiful. 

05:19 Phil: Shall we do a mukbang instead of this video? (Not that I’m not enjoying this video, Phil. But Yes please eat your pizza and 10 thousand dips with us!)

05:32 How Phil managed to keep that white tshirt clean while eating pizza is beyond me. 

05:58 Phil: Men can be milked Dan: *oh-my-god-why-is-he-like-this expression*

06:14 Phil almost does that shoulder punchy thing he does to Dan

06:21 Phil back with the nipple talk - this time it’s about whales

06:27 Dan makes bull semen joke, Phil explains it away to simple kicking

06:54 no Capita£ester jokes because they are getting tired but, like.. Phil you are a millionaire.

07:05 I’m not sure what Dan is really trying to say here but lol for the extra spinning tour spon.

07:09 Dan guesses dog AGAIN. Also, ‘Same’ suddenly those pet play fics aren’t that far fetched huh? 

07:29 Dan is so done with this game 

07:41 Phil is starting to get annoyed - cute lil neck grab 

07:49 Phil has told the whole kid-drawing-hands story before, I’m pretty sure

08:08 Dan guessing dog pays off - Phil is not amused

08:25 even less amused that cat doesn’t work

08:40 - 08:58 Phil debates on whether to put sharks as an answer

09:12 Phil: “A tampon, see I said!” When? What did they cut out?

09:18 Why the eyebrows over shingles... what do you think shingles are, Dan?

09:28 Dan is done with this game again because it isn’t relatable to him specifically 

09:31 Phil gets it wrong again and head desks for the first time

09:36 I can’t help but think the Jestina thing started as something a little closer to home and Phil is in on the joke. Idk. Does Dan have an Aunt Jess or something? Also, why Peru? idgi

09:52 Phil’s expression on the “what?” is... idk. I liked it. 

10:02 finally Phil gets one right - Dan isn’t impressed

10:07 Dan, wtf is this accent?

10:14 Phil attempts to skip the question and cut it from the video. Didn’t work, did it?

10:20 Phil forgets the category they picked

10:28 Phil is surprised he is the only one in the world that hates cheese - hands in hair and on the back of his neck... I’m not ashamed to say I rewound this little bit. 

10:36 Phil is concerned this will be a bad video because they aren’t winning. Oh Phil, do you think people come here for the gameplay?

10:40 Lean in further Dan, I dare you

10:45 Dan intensely wants to know who this person is. Who is the person I don’t know Phil? Have you been speaking to other people without me there Phil? Who is it who is it who is it? Oh wait... someone hates Christmas? 

10:51 Dan with the accent again 

10:56 please stop dabbing. it wasn’t funny when you started and it still isn’t. sometimes I wish they wouldn’t latch on to every internet meme that children find funny tbh

11:04 I know that in your household spoon is used as a term of endearment and that has therefore left you a little confused but here in not-dnp land, people aren’t generally confused as to why they’re called spoons enough to google it. 

11:10 Phil is really losing the plot rn. More head-desk hide-in-tshirt combos

11:12 attempts to put his head directly in Dan’s lap

11:20 Phil writes ‘Dan sucks’ as an answer - why is this so cute? 

11:26 Don’t pretend you didn’t linger on that arm touch there

11:28 Dan being loud and Phil telling him to shush is my favourite. Also Dan actually looking chided and listening? Amazing. 

11:42 I’m going to kill you to death 

11:53 Phil’s face at getting the answer wrong looks so done. Why do I like this? Why... I have issues. 

12:10 I will never forgive them for the jump cut before Phil booping Dan’s face softly with his fist. never. 

12:16 They didn’t used to roughhouse this much did they? I’m almost used to it except that I’m not

12:22 Dan... why the accent? I know you’re trying to suggest the common google user is stupid and this is the voice you are using to express that but just... stop.  I just realised... it’s Jessica. He thinks the general google user is Jessica. 

12:31 Phil asking the questions we’re all thinking

12:44 Phil throws down the gauntlet

12:49 Phil knows what he’s done

13:04 Phil is mad and I am... into that? apparently?  - at least he’s courteous enough to be quiet about it unlike Daniel 

13:13 Why would I want to make someone cry? Jealous. Um, Phil, why would you want to make someone jealous? And why is that where your mind went first? 

13:23 they mock all of the vaguely sentimental answers just in case we think they might have googled them at some point. Protest too much boys? 

13:37 Phil is intense while Dan sings us a song from the ii playlist

13:41 you are children. 

14:00 smug Dan is smug

14:08 More angry Phil and I need a minute

14:20 Srs bsnss Phil is concentrating with everything he has

14:30 Yeah, I don’t really get that either, Dan

14:42 Phil loses. No more Google Feud. 

14:49 Phil stops the end screen to propose something crazier

15:10 Dan tries to wheel Phil out of shot again as is his go to move. But... I mean, did you notice he isn’t pushing on the chair? That’s just Phil’s knee. I felt like you needed to be made aware of that fact. Just... for reasons. 

15:20 Phil attempts to continue his all or nothing with a forfeit of licking something and looks around the room for something that he could lick as punishment... I could suggest something if you like, Phil. 

(At this point this video might have driven me a bit crazy) 

15:27 Phil head desks right on to Dan’s arm 

Blah blah blah end screen. 

[nikatyler]

So, tumblrpocalypse, huh? I’m ready. I mean, I think I am ready. I have exported my blog just in case, I’m joining the protest tomorrow...guys, we are going to survive this. We can do it.

In other news, I���ve finally started playing gen 3 of NSB and it’s been great so far. Also, I’m proud of Ross. I’m not gonna say anything else but like...buddy, you have impressed me. Lol anyway, I feel like I’m always complaining about homework these days and yeah, there’s still a lot of it, but I have one last week left and then there’s Christmas break. Let me have this naive moment of thinking we won’t have any homework over Christmas. I already know we will. *sigh* Senior year. I’m losing my mind. There’s so much to do. It feels like we were doing nothing the three previous years and now the teachers have gone crazy. But oh well, I’ll survive that as well, just like the tumblrpocalypse.

So yeah. See you guys on Tuesday. In case you miss me (which I don’t think you will but oh well), you can always find me on twitter.

dandylion240 replied to your photoset “~ the best days of my life”

They look so sweet together

I knoooow ;_; When it comes to ranking how good my ships look together, these two are probably one of my favourites. Then again they’re probably one of my favourites in general, I like how their relationship developed and how Caleb actually made Ross a better person (even though he doesn’t feel like he did anything special but Ross is aware of the change and he’s grateful for him).

simmering-pancakes replied to your photoset “This dog scares me. He looks so innocent but he’s actually worshipping...”

As one does!

Yup. My Sunday afternoons are like this. Allll the time.

simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “December would be so proud of her.”

LOL xD I'm happy to see they have a better relationship now ♥

Me too ;_;

simside replied to your photoset “You’re gonna freeze to death. Just saying.”

I love them so much.

Saaaaame. And to think it took me ages to realize that they’re “shipping material” lol

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “This dog scares me. He looks so innocent but he’s actually worshipping...”

I luv doggos who summon Satan

I actually love all doggos

Mood but me too

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “P**nbots? On my innocent spaceblr?”

truly a big mood

Wonder if she’ll have to deal with them after 17th December...is the ban effective or not? 🤔 We shall see! tbh I don’t think it’ll work the way they intended because this is tumblr  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

jackssims replied to your photoset “Caleb: Oh my g– they’re dead. They were old and they…died.”

Darling dying in front of Caleb rn is WILD bc in my NSB, MC Command Center married him and Darling. They had three kids before Darling died (I guess MC didn't let Darling become a vampire?), and then he immediately married someone else. Quite the contrast to your NSB Caleb and his story arc

I think I literally went “hkjhflgkafjlkj” when I read this. I made such a weird excited noise because god I live for dumb little things like this

jackssims replied to your photoset “Vlad the fashion legend is back.”

An icon

The one and only

pixelhart replied to your photoset “Wrong direction, sweetie.”

10/10 amazing

She’s talented

gamingtweety replied to your photoset “Father Winter: “I’ll forgive you this one time. But don’t forget, real...”

Caleb at the background like "yeyy she got the gift!!" ����

He’s the supportive stepdad Sunset has always deserved

glammoose replied to your post “94”

I took my list way too seriously too, I'm not sure they actually order it by plays? I also have last.fm to track it

I think so too. I might also be getting confused because I listen to a lot of music offline when I can’t use the internet. There are some songs I listen to every day on my way to school and they’re not on the playlist because I clearly don’t listen to them as often when I’m at home.

create-a-sim replied to your post “94”

Bon Jovi <3

Y E S

not gonna lie we lowkey stan? (Ew I hate myself for writing this sentence. The meaning of it is true I guess but the way I decided to say it is...yikes I do hate myself for sure) But yeah. Also it was an accident. I was fine knowing just the most popular songs and then somehow whoops nevermind kinda obsessed

“somehow whoops nevermind kinda obsessed” sums up my entire life tbh

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “Sunset: *tells one joke and gets hysterical*”

oh this is a mood

A very relatable one

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “Sunset: “Hey Father Winter, I’ve been a good kid, right?” Father...”

Can't get over how pretty Val looks in this picture *.*

She’s gorgeous *-*

elisabettasims replied to your photoset

He is too pure for this world.

Yeah. Also, too pure to be a vampire, but I’m kinda glad he’s one because I don’t have to worry about him dying lol

simtress replied to your photoset “Holiday Cottage I just wanted to build something Christmas-y. I’m not...”

So nice!

Thank you ♥

kymmaisims replied to your photoset “1200 Followers Gift: Gen 5 Pose Dump And the award for the worst...”

Thank you for always making so many great story telling poses! I appreciate you so much.

I don’t deserve such kind words, thank you so much ;_;

[thisbibliomaniac]

"I’m posting this rather sheepishly. My bestie wrote it. I am not sharing it for the slightly embarrassing part in the middle, but rather the message at the end.

Is she talking to you?

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

Murder in Plain Sight; And I Am Part of the Problem.

​

I am an anti-vaxxer, but I am a closet anti-vaxxer.

I haven’t always been “in the closet.” In fact if you knew me 6 years ago, I was outspoken on the topic. If I knew you were pregnant, I would try to share with you what I had learned about the dangers of vaccination. I would talk openly with other mothers whom I had met in Mommy groups. I would try to educate my siblings whose teenagers would soon be offered the Gardasil vaccine. I would explain how I became an anti-vaxxer. I would explain how I have a bachelor’s degree in medical biology and a master’s degree in organizational management focusing on hospital administration, and that I wrote my thesis on medical ethics between physicians and pharmaceutical companies. I would share my experience as an LPN throughout college and how I worked in a pediatric office for 10 years. That I was in the military and received countless vaccines. I would say over and over that I myself, was pro-vaccine and that I thought anti-vaxxers were crazy people.

​

When I was pregnant with my first child, my husband sat me down and asked me to watch the movie The Greater Good.

My entire life changed.

I printed out every single vaccine insert off the CDC website and read them thoroughly, highlighting and doing the math, statistically figuring out how likely my child would be affected by a vaccine injury. I spoke with 2 of my Aunts and asked them when they knew that my cousins had Aspergers. I asked my husband’s Aunt who is also an RN at Mass General about my husbands’ cousin who also has Aspergers and they all said the same thing; they were never the same after the MMR.

Now call me crazy but that’s not a coincidence.

​The more I learned, the angrier I became. I was angry with pharmaceutical companies, angry with doctors, angry with nurses and angry with parents! All my education, all my beliefs were completely changed, and it was from information that was readily available to me.

Eventually I grew tired of meeting resistance in every conversation and being called crazy. I grew fearful of the angry, uneducated parents who I would see threaten other parents and children on social media. I grew fearful and almost paranoid of pharmaceutical companies. I worried that people would be mean to my children and ostracize them from the group by not inviting them to parties because of my decision. I took on the philosophy- “Hey, if you don’t want to educate yourself on what you’re injecting into your child, then its not my problem.”

It is still heartbreaking to me whenever I see a pregnant woman. I wonder if she is going to unnecessarily allow people she trusts to give her teeny, little newborn the hepatitis B vaccine.

Is she going to lose her 2-month-old or 4-month-old to SIDS?

I grew to only share with close friends, and only if it came up in conversation. Often that was met with the “are you freaken crazy” stares. The blessings would come when I would meet a new friend and we would learn that we both were anti-vax! I have learned to ignore the pro-vaccine posts on social media, when I really would want to comment things like “why don’t you get a clue and educate yourself?” I would cringe when I would hear people call anti-vaxxers “google doctors,” as if any of us just googled this and made our decision in 5 minutes. I have learned to not even look at the comment section of any news channels when they would post on a measles outbreak, always blaming the unvaccinated. I’ve learned to control my rage when I hear and read people blaming my perfectly healthy children for spreading disease. I have learned to just roll my eyes at the philosophy of herd immunity. Especially when a parent of a vaccine injured child would still encourage others to vaccinate because it would protect their now immunocompromised child. As if their child is more important than mine. Where is the logic there? You all know what I am talking about.

Social media is such a vital tool when it comes to spreading awareness. Unfortunately, it gives anyone and everyone a platform. Which can be said about any one of us, depending upon which side your on.

One day while scrolling down my feed on Facebook I came across this video posted on one of the vaccine pages I follow. It was a mother who was angry and sharing her experience in a beautifully written poem that she acted out, rather impressively. The thing was, I swore I knew her or at least had seen her before. So, I looked her up and saw that we had several mutual friends and that she lived in the next town over!!! I instantly messaged her right away! Sometimes I think social media is the armpit of the world and I hate that I am addicted to it like a junkie to heroin, but sometimes it sends us blessings, because we met. And it was instant friendship.

We clicked, we bonded.

We share truths and secrets, we laugh, we laugh A LOT and yes, we cry.

Her name is Hillary Simpson and she has become my best friend and she is one of the leaders of our revolution. She is changing the world and she is changing me. She is bringing me out of the closet. She is fearless and she makes me want to be fearless. I’ve seen people come at her and she is unphased. She remains calm and only seeks to inform, she doesn’t get swept into Facebook wars. She receives threats against her and her family and remains strong. She is raising warriors. And she is never going to quit.

I watch her and I wish I wasn’t so afraid. Why should I be? The decision we made was an informed one. My husband and I are both educated people. We have 2 healthy children. Why am I afraid to tell people that I am against vaccination? So what if someone thinks I am crazy? What if I share what I know and that knowledge opens the mind of just one person, one person whose life could possibly be greatly affected by the vaccination.

Most importantly I am learning that there are more of us out there than I ever imagined, and our numbers are growing. We have all heard the saying “It takes a village.” Well in this case, it takes an army and that is what we are.

An army of angry mothers and fathers that are tired of being victimized, by not only big pharma but the media and even other parents.

I may not ever go the extent and lengths that Hillary has gone to and continues to go to, but I will not shy away from conversations anymore. I will not allow people to shame me and my choice. I will speak up and say I don’t vaccinate my children and maybe if you educated yourself you would also see that what is happening with the vaccine industry is murder in plain sight."