#id almost prefer it if it was a one sided thing. then id deal w it like i have b4

[inkmaze]

being normal [lying] being normal [lying] being normal [lying]

[hotwings0203]

Okay I’m at work rn and I just got this weird ass call at the front desk. This dude called asking for a reservation and I was like aight lemme transfer you to our reservations department, and the dude was like “it’s my wife’s birthday.” I said “oh well tell her I said happy birthday,” AND THEN he was like “it’s actually our anniversary.” And I was like “…okay…tell her I said happy anniversary??” AND THEN WHEN I TRIED TELLING HIM THAT I WAS GONNA TRANSFER HIM AGAIN HE WAS ALL “wait before you do, I have to tell you something.” And I was like OKAY MAN JUST HURRY UP IDFC he said “my wife says you look beautiful today.” And then I hung up the muthafuckin phone cuz who the FUCK was I to deal w that bs💀💀 sooo, in honor of that I’m gonna write a lil’ shigaraki thing that was inspired by that phone call

Tw:stalking, creepy shiggy, noncon implication, cultish behavior?

You awake to your phone ringing at your bedside table. It’s in the AM, maybe 2 or 3. The night is quiet save for the dull buzzing next to you, and the whispers of the wind spiraling through the trees outside your window.

Bewilderingly, you grope around in the darkness to locate your phone before picking it up and cracking open a bleary eye to check the caller ID.

UNKNOWN CALLER

Extremity begrudgingly, you hit the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out groggy and coarse from your slumber remnants.

“Beautiful girl”

Both eyes are open now.

“Who is this?”

“You don’t know me…but I know you.” The voice across the line is almost as raspy as yours yet slightly shaky. There’s a weird clicking noise in the background.

“Who the fuck is this, and why are you calling me at-“ you turn your head to check the analog next to you. “-three thirty four in the morning?”

“Because I wanted to formally introduce myself as your new owner.”

“My new-what?” You snap and lift yourself on one elbow. Just because of the chill that races down your spine, you squint around the darkness of your apartment. No one was there, so then why couldn’t you shake the feeling someone was watching you?

“You heard me, pretty cockslut. In a few days from now, I’ll be waiting for you, right at your door. I’ll have a collar and leash waiting for you so you can properly be my little bitch in heat.”

Your hands unconsciously fist the sheets underneath you, and you try not to let your voice wobble when you respond.

“I’m-is hanging up now you sick fuck. Don’t call this number again, or else I’ll track your number and call the police.” But you find that when you try to tap the red button, the call still continues. You hit the button again, but no difference. You start to frantically turn your phone off and fiddle with the volume buttons to wake your screen out of its frozen state but the call still continues, the person on the other line keeps rambling.

“What did you do to my phone?”

“Whatever I need to do to talk to you one on one. Tell me Y/N, would you prefer your dog bowl in pink or red?”

“I’m not choosing either, fucking bastard. Tell me who you are!”

“Aww, come on now, be an obedient pet. Use your big girl words and let your master know what you like. It’s the only time I’m being nice, I’d take the opportunity if I were you.” The clicking on the other side of the call multiples, as if we were typing away at dozens of keyboards.

“I’m calling the police.” You spring up from your bed and search the room for another landline phone or anything where you could contact someone. This was insane, you weren’t putting up with this bullshit.

“Sure, go right ahead. I can’t wait for them to see you naked, on your hands and knees, pussy drooling and mouth watering while you suck my cock in front of them.”

You yell in frustration and panic as the clicking noise grows louder, the volume swallowing up your thoughts and musings.

“Fuck, what the hell is that noise?” You raise your voice now, your remaining sleep swept away in the currents of adrenaline.

“We’re all waiting for you, Y/N. You’re such a pretty girl, don’t you wanna share some of that beauty with us? We wanna see you mouth opening, face down ass up for us, working your pussy on all of our cocks. We wanna see you getting fucked against all the surfaces of your new home, against the windows, on the basement floor, in the shower, on the bed. I wanna be on top though, above everyone else under and over you, would my little bitch in heat like that?”

Your mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. It’s silent outside, as if the world were holding its breath on the same moment as you. But on the other end of the phone, you could hear it.

Along with the clicking, there were moans. Different pitches and tempos, but the grunts and groans were definitely audible. He spoke above them, claiming his place above his subjects.

“Oh no, did I scare you off already? It’s okay, you’ll get used to us soon enough. Think of this as training. You’ll soon know your place well enough once initiation starts. All your holes will be open-“

The moans grow louder. They gasp so loud you’d think they were being murdered. The clicking grows evermore.

“-And you’ll be out on display for all of us to touch, and feel, and taste, and listen to while you just take it, take it, take it like the good little bitch I’ll force you to be”

“Leave me alone!” You half sob as you run over and pick up your phone, looking around wildly and unsure of what to do.

“I’ll plug you with so many drugs and chemicals that you’ve never even heard of just so that you’ll crawl to me on all fours and beg me to fill you up again, with anything I want.”

“You’ll kill yourself just to be anything to me”

You think you hear the groaning and sighing on the other end evolve into screams of satisfaction, but you can’t tell over the ringing in your own ears.

“So sleep well my precious babyslut. I’ll come for you soon enough.”

And the line goes dead

[boldlyanxious]

A Year of Glitter

Part 11

**Teen plus/mature rating**

Glitter series

Masterlist

Robin spoke into his radio when he saw several of Black Mask's men head towards the same alley from different locations. It wasn’t a dead end, but it had a tendency to be blocked by an overflowing dumpster on the other end so he headed that direction and asked Batman to meet him there just in case. He came down from above silently so he wouldn’t alert them to his presence. If they were discussing details it would be better to act after hearing all information.

When he got a bit closer though, he realized his first suspicion was correct. They were converging on one girl who appeared to have already injured 2 men. They who had fallen but there were several more creeping in on her and she was holding her arm in a protective manner like she had hurt it or her midsection. He didn’t make it down in time to keep her from all harm. They gave a signal and all lunged at once. She hit 2 more. One of them didn’t get back up but the other just looked angry. But while she was distracted by them, another had gotten close enough to inject something into her neck.

It wasn’t instant so she was still fighting. Even more desperately as she realized how bad this could be. Robin dropped down on the arms of the one trying to grab her and struck 2 others as he dropped gas pellets. Since Batman had not yet joined him he chose getting her out of the way over staying and fighting them all. He shot a grappling hook and grabbed her from behind so he could avoid her swinging arms.

As they swung away he updated Batman on what had happened and the only clear thing he made out that they were saying about the girl before he swung away was, “Red Hood’s girlfriend.” She was fading by the time he got her to safety. He checked her bag and found her ID but he didn’t know what to do with her. He didn’t know if she would be safe in a hospital. He left her for a moment to drop down to the alley. He found the vial they had used to drug her. It was a sedative typically used in surgical settings so she should wake after a while. It would probably be best if they could see what she knew before releasing her.

---

“Give her to me.”

Red Hood’s voice was tough and left no room for argument yet Robin still hesitated. Batman would probably show soon and he didn’t want to deal with that right now. He needed to take care of Marinette and get her somewhere safe. He would be dealing with Batman later and did not need to involve Marinette in any of his plans. He stepped towards Robin until he was against the wall, still holding Marinette. She shifted but she didn’t seem fully aware. He put his hand against Robin’s throat and pushed but without any real force behind it.

“I can’t just hand over a civilian, who was attacked, to a drug lord.”

Robin tilted his chin up, certain that he had the moral high ground.

“Your plans certainly involve interrogating her. I need to keep her safe.” He took another step forward and put pressure on Robin’s throat. “I prefer not to involve her in a fight but I have no concern for your safety if you force my hand.”

Red Hood dropped his hand from Robin’s throat and reached for Marinette. She almost came to for a moment and she smiled at him. Her eyes were glassy and her attempt to reach for him veered off course and her hand lifted halfway before flopping to the side. Robin tried to keep hold of her but Red Hood lifted her away from him. He settled Marinette against him and turned as Robin was approaching him. He didn’t know whether he planned to fight or try to get her back but Red Hood was only concerned about getting her somewhere safe. He reached out and slapped Robin away and dropped a smoke pellet so he could disappear.

He didn’t think she would be safe at her place anymore. If they knew who she was and where she worked they could have easily followed her home. He would have to have her place cleared out. He had several safe houses. For now he would leave that until she was awake and recovered. He took her to his personal safe house. He wouldn’t leave her alone in this condition and it was set up already with everything they would need because it was where he was living.

---

He placed her in the bed and went around collecting what she might want when she woke. He couldn’t be certain what she had been injected with but it appeared to just make her unconscious or semi-unconscious. Her breathing was calm and even and she was slightly responsive. No signs of any bad reactions. He brushed her hair out of her face and leaned over to kiss the spot. She hummed slightly and reached out for him. He allowed her to guide him. She moved him until he was in the bed with her. He tried to shift away but every time she would whine and follow him.

It didn’t last long. She was shifting more and then her eyes were open and on him. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking but she was probably confused.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

He pushed away a bit and reached for the water. She pushed up more slowly and then reached for her head. He moved to put a pillow behind her and also got the bottle of pain reliever.

“Did you kidnap me?”

“I guess I kinda did. But I am not the one who attacked and drugged you.”

“They know who I am.”

She took the water and drank slowly. Pausing to take some of the pain reliever too. He looked down, slightly ashamed. He had known it was a risk but he kept pushing it out of his mind because he liked seeing her too much.

“I don’t think it is safe for you now. You need to move. Possibly find a new job but that can wait. I can get you anything you need.”

She looked around instead of responding. He just let her take it all in. He didn’t want to push her. He expected she would probably end up angry at him. It was all his fault. He had known better but disregarded her safety for his own feelings. He looked over when he realized she was watching him. Her movements were shaky but she pushed herself suddenly and climbed into his lap. He adjusted so he could hold her better and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled against him and sat quietly for a few minutes.

He thought she was asleep when he shifted. He kissed her head and moved her so he could lay her back in the bed. She turned and pulled him down to kiss him properly. Her movements were still a little clumsy but she held onto his shoulders.

“I really need to clean up.” She turned to face him fully and kissed him again before adding, “I assume you have a way to help me make that happen.”

“I’ll go start the water so it warms up. Then I’ll come back to help you in get there if you need it.”

“Take me with you.”

Marinette reached up for him and he lifted her and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her down gently while he went about setting up the shower for her. He turned back just in time to see her tipping over while trying to remove her clothes. He reached out and caught her. His hands only remained until she was steady on her feet again. He focused on helping her into the shower while trying not to look down at her. She turned into him just as she got under the water and pulled him down for a kiss.

His arm went around her to keep her from falling, the other planted against the shower wall to brace himself. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him, holding onto his now wet shirt.

“We should probably get you out of these wet clothes,” she said.

She tugged at the bottom of the shirt to pull it off him. He helped her but then pulled her back under the water so she could wash off. He was avoiding looking at her. Instead he reached for the shampoo and offered it to her. She seemed to realize he was looking everywhere but at her.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like what you see?” she asked.

“I’m trying to be respectful, Darling. You were drugged.”

“Where is the fun in that? Be disrespectful.”

She reached up and pulled him down for a kiss. He held her in his arms and pulled her tightly against him. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He slid his hands up as down her back without either of them pulling away from the kiss. When his hand moved to her her side, she cried out and jerked away. He dropped her back to her feet and examined her side. It was covered by a large bruise that he hadn’t noticed because he had been trying not to look.

“You are hurt,” he said.

“It wasn’t bothering me before. I knew I had been hit. I’m not sure how many there were, too many. But one of them kicked me when I turned to hit another one.”

Red Hood grunted rather than respond. He gritted his teeth in anger, but he wasn’t angry at her so he pushed it back. He tilted her face back up to kiss her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll take a look to see what we can do to make that better.”

The flirty mood Marinette had a moment ago disappeared when Red Hood focused on the job at hand. He was careful to help her though. He didn’t want her moving too much so he put some shampoo in his own hands and lathered it into her hair. Her eyes were closed and she made adorable sounds that were making his water soaked pants feel tight. She coyly suggested that he should probably help her clean the rest of herself but he told her she could handle it. He stepped out before her and she finished up quickly. She saw just a glimpse of his side and back after he got out of his wet pants before he covered himself with a towel.

He turned back with a twinkle in his eyes. His towel was tucked low and his chest was bare and not fully dry. Marinette couldn’t help but appreciate the view. He helped her out of the tub and into a fluffy towel. She sank against him and then squealed as he lifted her. He laughed and carried her back to his bed. He turned and tossed her one of his tee shirts that she put on to get away from the cold. He covered her legs with the sheet and lifted her shirt enough to see the injured side. His hands slid against her skin and pressed gently. He thought it was just bruised and with no broken skin they couldn’t do more than put ice on it and take anti inflammatories.

“I will find out who did this to you,” he promised.

“Do you have to do it tonight?” she asked.

“I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

He leaned down and kissed her and then he pulled the covers over her and headed for the door.

“Where are you going then?”

“I have a couch out here, so you can have the bed.”

“But then I’m all alone,” she pouted. “I feel okay now. I remember everything from before. There is a patchy area there but I know what I want.”

“Is it sleep, Doll? That is all I can offer.”

“I want to sleep with your arms around me.”

He climbed into the bed with her and pulled her close. She sighed next to him as he kissed her head. It made her feel safe after everything that had happened.

Taglist

@theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @adrestar | @tbehartoo | @zynna | @technicallyburninggarden | @certainmuffinbagelcalzone | @jayjayspixiepop | @moon5608 | @rianoel

@izanae | @kittenmywaythrulife | @folk-ever-lore

[living-with-pmd]

11 Women With PMDD Share What It's Really Like

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder is the evil cousin of PMS. They share the same types of symptoms—moodiness, increased hunger, cravings, fatigue, cramps, pain, brain fog, and depression, among others—but for PMDD sufferers, those symptoms get so bad they can cripple a woman's ability to lead a normal life.  

While up to 85 percent of women get PMS, according to the US Department of Health, only about 5 percent of women experience PMDD, according to the American Journal of Psychiatry.

We asked women with PMDD what it's really like living with the disorder. Here are their stories:

"I was diagnosed with PMDD last summer. Six months prior to my diagnosis, I started taking a certain birth control and soon every month I was experiencing severe PMS issues. I am a generally happy person, but during those few days I was someone entirely different. I was extremely depressed and anxious, having much more frequent panic attacks, and was super sensitive and lonely. I was even suicidal, which was terrifying. And the worst part was I was convinced that I had always been this miserable, and that I would always be this miserable, and it was never going to change. It felt as if someone had completely burned out the light in me and all happiness and joy and hope was gone. I didn't make the connection that it was related to my period but thankfully a close friend did. I have since switched birth control, which helped a lot, and increased the dosage of my anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. Most importantly, I am aware of the way I feel those few days so I know to expect it, and I can logically remind myself that I will stop feeling that way soon. Looking back, I realize that I've probably always had pretty bad PMS or PMDD. The birth control worsened it but it was also causing a lot of issues I wasn't aware of previously as well." —Katherine H., 22, Edmonds, WA

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"PMDD is out of control. I cry really easily for about a week. My biggest issue is that I am convinced that I am failing at everything—being a wife, a mom, work projects, fitness, my whole life! And even though it feels so real I constantly have to question if my feelings are valid or if they are amplified by my cycle. I just set an alert in my phone to remind me to consider my hormones the next time I feel that way." —Krysten B., 32, Toronto, CA

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"A week before my period, I become a complete psycho, completely unlike myself. I'm tearful, want to eat everything that's sweet or salty, have absolutely no tolerance for anything other than perfection, and prefer to be left completely alone. I already take an antidepressant but my PMDD was a complete nightmare so my doctor gave me Prozac to take for just 10 days a month. Basically, I start it when I start to get that irrational feeling and keeping taking it until my period starts. And that's just the emotional stuff. On the physical side, I have debilitating cramps, backaches, and headaches that last for days. Yep. I'm a peach." —Kristen L., 40, Knoxville, TN

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"In the past, PMDD almost made me suicidal and totally broke my spirit. Yes it wasthat bad. Every month. Eventually I got tired of being a 'crazy PMS woman' and decided I needed to fix this. Since I don't like to take pharmaceuticals, I branched out to homeopathic remedies and I discovered St. John's Wort and essential oils, especially clary sage and Doterra Calm-Its. It's a lot better now but I still have my hard days." —Amy S., 43, Zebulon, NC

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"My PMDD got so bad I had to go to a psychiatrist and be put on Prozac along with another antidepressant I was already taking. I was a mess—anxious, crying randomly over the smallest thing, and eating everything in sight. One example is someone made a YouTube mashup of the Age of Ultron trailers with Pinocchio footage and the 'I've got no strings on me' song and that wrecked me for weeks. Every time I thought about scenes from Pinocchio I would start panicking and crying at my work desk. It's been a few years and I'm better now. I'm off birth control and weening myself off the Prozac. I notice a week before my period I will sob during any sad part in a movie or book I'm reading, and a day or two before, I notice I'm more likely to be anxious." —Kate W., 36, Alaska

———————————

"This has impacted my ability to work effectively. My pet peeve is when people say 'it must be close to your time of the month' when they simply don't like what I'm saying. I have run into that problem a lot at previous jobs and it makes it really hard to be taken seriously. It's bullshit because my feelings are valid regardless and also PMDD is not a joke. I am so lucky now to have a male boss who understands but it wasn't always that way. I have also have found a lot of relief with naturopathic and herbal remedies." —Amalia F., 28, Vancouver, Canada

———————————

"My PMS was tolerable until my second child was born and then everything went off the rails. I'd be looking forward to plans with others, happy, and then about 10 to 14 days before my flow would start, my mood would turn on a dime. I'd be horrible—crying, screaming that ~nobody understands~, just so much emotional pain. I'd basically lock myself up in the bedroom for a full day to cry, get angry, and feel sorry for myself. It took three doctors before I finally found one who would listen to me before I was finally diagnosed with PMDD. I took Prozac for three years for it but it made me feel numb, like a zombie and not like myself. So I quit and my family just deals with me now. As I've gotten closer to menopause the PMDD is not as bad, but can be very unpredictable due to hormonal swings from perimenopause. The worst part now is I feel like my friendships have suffered. I always seem to have episodes around major holidays and events and I end up bumming everyone out if I do show up so I end up staying home a lot." —Colleen T., 50, St. Paul, MN

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"I'm overly emotional for the week before my period. Saying that makes it sound like it's not that bad but I get so distraught that my fiance has actually scheduled it in his phone as 'blood sport' to remind himself what's coming. I'm thankful that he's patient because I also feel like everyone hates me that week, too." —Kenlie T., 36, New Orleans, LA

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"All month long I'm fine and feel even and calm and then suddenly, the week before my period, I can't handle even the tiniest little thing. My irritability goes through the roof (which is not great since I have a 5-year-old) and I feel like I have no friends. It really makes me sad." —Jessica S., 28, Broomfield, CO

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"I know my period is coming because all of a sudden all of my joints hurt, especially my knees and ankles. I also get crazy gnarly cramps and once I even had a cyst that ruptured while I was on a date and the guy had to take me to the hospital! It was so embarrassing. Thankfully my husband now is very understanding when this time rolls around each month. The worst part is people who just think I make this stuff up. Some months are better than others and sometimes the pain is completely debilitating! My emotions are also a rollercoaster. Anytime I see something cute or inspiring, I burst into tears." —Ivie C., 21, Rexburg, ID

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"My PMDD manifests in both mental and physical symptoms. From the time I got my period at age 12, I've had extreme cramps and heavy bleeding. I'd leak at school through a super maxi pad every class so I'd tie sweatshirts around my waist and have to scrub my clothes when I got home. It was super humiliating. I'd have to take six to eight ibuprofen at a time to deal with cramps, and if I didn't I'd end up on the floor sweating like I had the flu. Sometimes I'd even throw up. This meant I ended up spending a lot of time sick in bathrooms and knew where every restroom was at all times. Birth control helped manage the PMDD and other issues, but as soon as I was done having kids, I had a hysterectomy. That was the best thing I've ever done." —Mandy P., 39, Mendon, UT

https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a19972132/premenstrual-dysphoric-disorder/

[cloneslugs]

Wolf + Yayoi + Akiyama :)

this is seriously ill im sorry

Wolf

First Impression: well he seems neat <3

Impression Now: he's very soft and kind.. <3 and very cool very nice man i love you wolf

Favorite Moment: the whole rice thing b/t the divine child and him and kuro, this isnt a moment but i enjoy how he speaks to people he makes me (: 

Idea for a Story: I'd like to see him first meeting Kuro ^__^ that would be cute.. or how he grew up w Owl bc it seems so … … … well anyway he has a lot of cool background that would be fun to explore 

Unpopular Opinion: i think people draw him smiling too much in some interactions i dont want him to even remotely have a sense of humor or even emote well tbqh, not that i think hes unhappy or anything but like well … + also people are freaks w him but that's another story.. i dont think he would date grandpas

Favorite Relationship: kuro <3 it's cute how he actually engages in conversation w Kuro i like how he talks w him and how Kuro talks w him it's nice.. i think his relationship w Owl is interesting but not . good. Emma + Isshin + Sculptor & every other friend he meets i enjoy esp Kotaro ^^

Headcanon: *gives him transgenderism + autism + homosexuality*, selectively mute (:, he also just has a general issue w socializing & when he doesnt know what to say he defaults to repeating people or just ignoring people, he likes being called Wolf by like Kuro and whoever but Isshin deciding to call him Sekiro makes him feel a little something (:, he can "cook" + knows lots of misc skills like sewing and stuff, doesnt like loud noises, doesn't like being in water -_-, i think he has trouble differentiating b/t what he likes v what he dislikes bc hes used to just putting up w things and never really got to acquire preferences ever hes accustomed solely to survival, he's done kuro's hair for him before <3 but he does it very quick and messy but he tries 

Yayoi

First Impression: ig this is her k1 substory idk i just kind of like . wow this lady seems cool ig goodbye 

Impression Now: … hi <3 she holds a very very special place in my heart now i miss her everyday please babygirl come back to me i need you back ive written out how you can come back please 

Favorite Moment: her k1 substory always makes me sad um.. everything in k2 when shes taking charge.. i love watching her interact w kiryu they have a really interesting relationship.. i like when she got on ryuji for his bullshit and i really really like her introduction in k2 i love watching her handle shitty lieutenants <3 i love you.. oh also whenever she looks sad + worries over daigo thank you for being a mom ma'am <3

Idea for a Story: um i have a lot of stuff already written for her bc im a sicko .. um ig most interesting to me is how her relationship w dojima developed & also what she was up to when dojima died and daigo went to prison right after bc i think about that period (+k1 substory) a lot.. </3 seeing what she was doing in 3 when daigo was shot would be nice iwant her to be homophobic to mine i think <3 ik a rggo event covered it but id like to see more of her when she stepped up to he acting chairman & how that went ig more in depth.. or just her general role w the dojima family back when it was relevant and uh yeah <3 

Unpopular Opinion: um i personally would never call her a milf that feels so :x idek to me gross almost not even bc im a homo or anything i just never would it feels too disrespectful aieeeeeee 🙈 also i wish people didn't care for her just as daigos mom or her being more compotent than daigo or whatever idk people are weird about them in a stupid way and i </3 ik shes just a side character but whatever.. also i hate everyone who writes her like "yes i married dojima for power and i crave violence" fuck you im the only right person ever 

Favorite Relationship: um daigo.. i have lots of thoughts they are so nice together ilove them very much <3 kiryu and kashiwagi are very cute w her too they respect her very much its sweet <3 i think nishiki and kiryu helping out w daigo as dojima members when daigo is little has very sweet potential b/t lady dojima and them not saying they outright would be seeking for a maternal figure but um.. also well kashiwagi uhh well i want her to move past her [k2] baggage and um.. um.. 🙈 boyfriend 

Headcanon: she's so bisexual shes very very bisexual and she knows it and no part of it even concerns her shes just bi + also her first major crush was on a girl that went nowhere and it embarrasses her to death <3, her dad is who introduced her to wielding a sword it was a very unorthodox introduction and came about by kind of bittersweet means but she very much enjoys it (he didnt teach her anything more than the very very shoddy basics he really just helped introduce), she comes from a very non-traditional [japanese] family, really bad vanity issues i wont publicly elaborate on, um something about dealing w loneliness, she was like daigo and was top of her class in school, she comes off as prett7 different outside of professional settings + acts a lot colder and meaner than she actually is around work people bc that's the only way she thinks she'll be taken seriously, she was a very excited first time mommy <3 she still loves daigo more than anything, she used to sporadically grow her hair out and chop it all off and grow her hair out and chop it all off growing up mostly as a teen -_-, she doesnt socialize well but shes good at parroting and imitating proper social etiquette,  she has an "older sister", she loved kiryu and then she hated him more than anything and now she likes him again, perfectionist but a lot of things come naturally to her, not very expressive but her eyes give away a lot, she used to really like kazama very fondly until she didnt, shes not much of a hand-to-hand combat fighter but she can handle self defense, cooking does not come naturally to her ):, shes kept every gift + prize daigo has gotten for her, shes not much for gifts (from people not daigo) but she likes flowers 

Akiyama

First Impression: he's funny (: 

Impression Now: he's still just funny <3 but also bisexual i love him he's very endearing and easy to like 

Favorite Moment: hanging out w haruka in rgg5 or any time he is having fun w hana <3 his one substory in rgg5 where you get more of his background is nice or when he first gets together with shinada + tanimura is funny.. anything that's not rgg6 um

Idea for a Story: i want him to hang out w haruka more <3 or just some of his day to day life.. what he splurges on when he does ummm.. background on when he and hana first met + his ex fiance, hin hanging out w the rest of the group .. anything fun i think ^_^

Unpopular Opinion: he has annoying/questionable moments but so does everyone in the series um.. akiyama/hana is superior when he crushes on her hard vs her to him idk if that's even unpopular ummm idk idek any freak stuff w him nobody talks about akiyama much 

Favorite Relationship: hana (: trans bisexuality <3 him + kiryu & haruka are sweet together, him and tanimura are fun.. i think hes a nice central point for both 4+5 protags i just enjoy him <3 hes good w people 

Headcanon: hes the least athletic i think that's canon though, tried to keep a fish tank in the office but hana ended up taking over + then getting rid of it but by then he wanted an office cat or bird or something "more interesting" so that hed feel like taking care if it but by that point she put her foot down on animals, tries out lots of misc hobbies that he eventually drops (golf, tennis(very embarrassing), gardening, etc (mostly sports bc he feels like a lazy piece of shit sometimes + gets splurges of Yeah Fitness!!!)), all kinds of math teams and etc growing up he actually really likes math, has a lot of gifts he chickened out on giving hana just kind of buried in the office, bad at video games, can't cook, he buys lots of cheap things bc he doesnt really see the point of splurging on fancy unnecessary stuff, magazine hoarder bc he just picks up whatever for a mindless read when at the store and forgets if he's gotten it before 

[schnees-and-schnugs]

i promised @dameschnee123​ id write a whitley-willow angst ficlet after i bomb my midterms lmao so here we go 

The Schnee Manor felt a tinge warmer than usual. Willow could tell, she always hated the cold. Despite her helplessness, it was the one thing she could never let go of from her life before Jacques Schnee. The warmth of her father’s smile, the faint smell of his cologne that is still somehow attached to his scarf never failed to help her feel a bit more comfortable in this freezing mansion. 

How could she not have seen the warning signs? The way Jacques seemed to suck the warmth out of any room he was in? How is hands were always so cold? It was if the Gods were giving her every sign to stay away, but she just pushed on right through- falling for every one of his tricks, stubbornly thinking that maybe he loved her. Maybe he wasn’t using her. 

Gods, why had she been such a stupid girl. 

Her mother always said she was naive, just like her father. Always wanting to believe the best in people. Even he had believed in whatever manufactured good Jacques had in him. 

Stupid Stupid Stupid. Everyone.

Time blurred and somehow she found herself back in her bedroom. She didn’t remember walking so far from the front doors of the manor, but yet...

Was she crying? 

There was a dull pain in her throat and Willow could feel a sob rising in her chest. Are these tears of joy? Anger? Sadness? She spent so long numbing the pain that she couldn’t tell the difference anymore. All she knew is that she needed to kill it before it became futile. Numb it before the reality of her life hit her.

But what is there to run away from?  He’s gone

But Willow still felt the same. She was no longer being held down, but she had gotten so comfortable on the ground she can’t tell the difference anymore. But... Perhaps she’ll give in tonight. A little treat for doing the one thing she should have done years ago- getting rid of him.

On her nightstand sat a bottle of liquor, next to the family photos she cared enough to keep next to her every night. Willow wiped her cheeks.

Ironic 

Standing next to the bottle on either side were two small photos. Once upon a time she had taken the time to take photos with each of her children and frame them. Once upon a time she used to happily gaze upon these photos before retiring to bed, thinking that if her worst fears about Jacques were true, she would at least still have her babies.

But the truth hit a lot harder than she thought it would.

The picture on the right was of her and Winter. It was a regal picture- but not short on love. Winter had always been a serious child, bred from birth to be Jacques’ perfect heir. She was always easily flustered when it came to acts of affection, which really only spurred Willow on. She had both her hands on Winter’s shoulders while Winter stood there on front of her, arms behind her back. Smirking. Willow started to chuckle before catching herself. What right did she have to look upon this picture and smile? She hadn’t been the same mother in that picture for years.

The picture on the left was of her and Weiss. She was poised closer to Weiss, almost bent over with her head near Weiss’ shoulder, smiling and rubbing her cheek against her daughter’s. Willow almost couldn’t recognize herself. Somehow this woman managed to make Weiss smile. She hasn’t been able to really make Weiss this happy in years. What would she give to be able to recreate this image in the present. Just stop thinking.

Her hands were shaking as she reached for the bottle in between the framed pictures. Why did she still keep them there? To torture herself? Guilt herself? Did the old Willow place them there knowing that it’ll only hurt herself later? She didn’t need these thoughts. Not tonight. 

She quickly grabbed the bottle and raised it to her lips, but not before she caught a glimpse of the third photo in the middle, obscured from her sight earlier by the liquor bottle.

Gods.

Willow stood there, facing the camera in the midst of laughter. To her side was Whitley, six - not wait five years old- with his arms around her neck and standing on his toes, landing a big smooch on her cheek. This wasn’t meant to be the picture, but Whitley was quite the hyperactive child. The photographer had taken this photo and proclaimed it to be the more wholesome shoot he had ever done. Willow had agreed.

There was a time when she wasn’t able to go three hours without taking a glance at this photo. She had adored it so much she kept it a secret from Jacques, not wanting him to publish it or hang it up for everyone who visited the manor to see. No. This picture was hers.

Now a part of Willow had wished she had showed it to Jacques. Had let him take it and tarnish the memory before Willow ever could have done it herself. She gripped her bottle, knuckles whitening. Does she wish she had hurt Whitley more?

No... she doesn’t. She wont.

She placed the bottle back down hesitantly and made her way to Whitley’s room. What was she going to say? “Hey I know you’re very upset, and I’ve been ignoring your emotional needs for years but please just let me be your mother for once and comfort you”? No- too direct. 

What would old Willow do? 

She grimaced. Old Willow wouldn’t have needed to make excuses. She wouldn’t have watched Whitley run up the staircase and done nothing to console him. Old Willow deserved to be Whitley’s mother. She didn’t abandon him. Hurt him continuously for years. What right does she have to come back and pretend that she deserved his forgiveness?

But she wasn’t going to leave him. Not again.

She tentatively approached his door before pausing, hearing a faint sound behind the door. Crying? Or maybe closer to sobbing. Willow gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to run away. You know how to do this. Just do it. 

She always knew Whitley cried a lot more than he let on, but of course he never let her in on it. The night Weiss left for Beacon Willow was in this same position, standing nervously outside Whitley’s room door, listening to him weep before eventually losing her nerve and walking away. That night she should have gone in. But she was too afraid of rekindling the relationship she used to have with her son. Too scared to comfort him.

But tonight she will.

She softly knocked on his door. “Whitley... darling, may I come in?”

The sobbing stopped. There was a small sniffle. And then silence. 

“Whitley, sweetheart, please?” Willow hated the begging in her voice. Hated that she had to beg her son to let her in because she lost the right to be able to walk in casually so long ago.

You know what... fuck it

Willow opened the door and silently stepped into the room. Thankfully, Whitley doesn’t lock his room door- a rule set by Jacques a few months ago. She spotted him in his bed, curled up around his pillow under a mass of covers. Is he pretending to be asleep? Willow doesn’t really blame him. She could pretend that she fell for it and leave- No.

She made her way to his bed and sat on the edge, still at loss for words.

“I know you’re awake”. She cringed at the accusatory tone of her voice. Be gentle.  “Its okay if you don’t want to talk... but I’d prefer if you’d tell me how you’re feeling.”

Silence.

Then came a muffled reply: “I’m fine”

“Okay...” Willow could see the tear stains on his pillow where he had been crying into it. “Could you tell me why you’re crying then?”

“Why do you think?”

Willow scowled. She had dealt with teen talk back before with Winter. But now it feels like she’s walking on egg shells.

“I know you’re upset about what happened earlier tonight-”

“Why are you here?” Whitley sat up, glaring at her. “Shouldn’t you be drowning your sorrows away?”

Gods, this kid. Willow wanted to get angry. Just up and leave like she usually would do- preferring to sit in solitude than to deal with this. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Looking at Whitley- his mussed up hair, red eyes and nose from weeping only moments ago, she wanted to hold him in her arms until he stopped feeling hurt or until he fell asleep. Or both. It didn’t matter to her. She wanted him to be okay. 

“No... I’m choosing to be here with you right now,” she took his hand in hers. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop her. “Look I... I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You were so young and... I just- every time I see you-”

“What? Do I remind you of Father?” Whitley snapped. “Isn’t that what you always said? That he and I deserve each other?” He was fully facing her now, practically yelling. Willow choked down pain in her throat. Whitley never yelled. Even when he’s upset, he speaks barely above his inside voice. 

“No! I didn’t mean-” 

“What? Tell me whats your excuse now?”

“I don’t have an excuse! Everyday I regret failing you! It hurts to look at you because I love you and everyday I wish that I was stronger. Strong enough to be your mother instead of the mess I am now. Whitley please, darling, just know that you’re everything to me and I want you to be happy,” Willow hadn’t realized she was yelling back before until she heard the echos of her last few words. She slowly looked back up at him. “Sweet-”

He quickly pulled his hand away from hers, cradling both against his chest. She couldn’t describe the look on his face as anything other than... panic.

“Why?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Willow blinked. “What do you mean? Whitley what’s wrong?”

“Why are you saying these things? Are you drunk?” Whitley seemed to shrink into himself, distancing himself from Willow. “You abandoned me. You, Winter, Weiss, you’re all the same. At least Father pretended to care about me, and you all had to take that away too”.

No No No. Willow scrambled for anything to say, anything to calm him down. But her mind was empty. All she could do was stare. She thought she had known Whitley well enough all these years, but no... she didn’t. The shoulder pads he usually wore to imitate his father were gone, and now he just looked... small. So small. Was he always like this? She didn’t know. She hadn’t bothered to ever look any deeper than what scrapes Whitley gave her in these last few years. 

“You think that you can just come here and act like you’ve loved me all along?” Whitley’s voiced cracked. “Why are you being so cruel?”

“Cruel...” Willow barely registered his words. Whitley didn’t understand like how Weiss understood. He’s too damaged. Too caught up in his resentment and anger to ever see the people who cared for him. But what could she say? Yes, I neglected you for years, but you should forgive me? Yes, Winter left for Atlas Academy and never reconnected with you, you should forgive her? Forgive Weiss for finding a better life else where than here with you? Whitley could never find it within him to forgive them. Willow knew he’s been burned too many times and now he’s given up. He just wants to be alone. Even if it hurts him.

“Just... get out. Leave me alone. I don’t need you or anyone... just go.” 

Willow got up, feeling Whitley’s eyes burn a hole into her back as she turned to leave. Did he actually want her to stay? She didn’t know. He probably doesn’t know either. 

She heard his breath catch as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her. 

Willow didn’t know how long she stood outside in the hallway, listening to Whitley’s wails before walking back to her room. She hoped a little distance would block out the noise, but she could still hear it faintly as she sat on her bed drinking the last drop of her liquor.

She placed the bottle conveniently right between the two photos of her daughters and hoped for sleep.

[jul-iet]

weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Chocolate bars

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Bubblegum. Cinnamon

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? Performative, joyful, clever? Haha

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? From soda cans

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? ...

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuddies

8. movies or tv shows? TV shows

9. favourite smell in the summer? All of it! Seaweed, wind from the ocean, rain on hot ground, thick air

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Most. Running maybe? I enjoyed soccer, basketball

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Croissants on the best of days, otherwise— some kind of toast maybe paired with fruit

12. name of your favourite playlist? Nice to revisit ones named after places I went

13. lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. favourite non-chocolate candy? Sour ones

15. favourite book you read as a school assignment? Catcher and the Rye maybe, at the time? Or Lord of the Flies. I really liked studying Shakespeare

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Criss cross or w my knees tucked up to my chest

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? White sneakers

18. ideal weather? Sunny

19. sleeping position? Usually on my left side, sometimes on my back in a crescent shape

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Journal

21. obsession from childhood? Fictional relationships in my teens, the movie Spirit in my early childhood

22. role model? A well adjusted person with creative life and intellectual exertions

23. strange habits? A bunch I’m sure

24. favourite crystal? Don’t know that I do

25. first song you remember hearing? Apart from movie soundtracks, it’s Tiny Dancer whilst driving south through a desert

26. favourite activity to do in warm weather? Swim

27. favourite activity to do in cold weather? Get warm? Maybe read

28. five songs to describe you? Girl from the North Country, Wildflowers, People I’ve Been Sad, Shrike, Come Back to Camden

29. best way to bond with you? Be kind and interested in things

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Tank top wide legs pants and sneakers

32. top five favourite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone? Probably “haha” :P

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? NB shoes may b

35. average time you fall asleep? Between one and two, but I’m trying to remedy that

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Couldn’t recall

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? Tea if I had to choose, but I love lemonade (could make lemon tea and cool…)

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon cake

40. weirdest thing to ever happen to you at your school? Maybe the fire alarm fiasco

41. last person you texted? Group of 2

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Cardi

44. favourite scent for soap? Mmm lots

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy, maybe? None, really

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Shirt knick

47. favourite type of cheese? Brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? A rasp I think? Or a tomato

49. what saying or quote do you live by? This one rings true to my daily thoughts. By Cheryl Strayed: "You go on by doing the best you can. You go on by being generous. You go on by being true. You go on by offering comfort to others who can't go on. You go on by allowing the unbearable days to pass and allowing the pleasure in other days. You go on by finding a channel for your love and another for your rage."

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably shenanigans w my sister

51. current stresses? Circumstance, school, direction, reflection

52. favorite font? TNR!!!

53. what is the current state of your hands? Fabü

54. what did you learn from your first job? How to make coffee and to serve strangers

55. favourite fairy tale? Don’t know that I do. Is Dumbo a fairy tale? A Little Life is part fairy tale according to Hanya

56. favourite tradition? Cards

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Lightly, quickly, vaguely: childhood, panic, listlessness

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Painting, writing, smarts, quick reflexes

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? IDK anime

61. favourite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Recently, from A Little Life:

"“I’m going”, he tells Jude, but then he doesn’t move. A dragonfly, as shiny as a scarab, hums above them. “I’m going”, he repeats, but he still doesn’t move, and it is only the third time he says it that he’s finally able to stand up from the lounge chair, drunk on the hot air, and shove his feet back into his loafers.  “Limes”, says Jude, looking up at him and shielding his eyes against the sun.  “Right”, he says, and bends down, takes Jude’s sunglasses off him, kisses him on his eyelids, and replaces his glasses. Summer, JB has always said, is Jude’s season: his skin darkens and his hair lightens to almost the same shade, making his eyes turn an unnatural green, and Willem has to keep himself from touching him too much.”

62. seven characters you relate to? I feel that I’m more able to understand than relate to characters, but… the way Patti Smith expresses herself in her biographical books, Little Creek, Willem for how he deals with other peoples’ pain… I think I don’t encounter enough characters for this

63. five songs that would play in your club? Waterloo, Right Down the Line, Nobody’s Diary, Cringe, Take Your Mama

64. favourite website from your childhood? Haha freearcade for wiz 3 maybe

65. any permanent scars? From trips falls cooking singes

66. favourite flower(s)? Wild! No one particularly

67. good luck charms? I feel like my rings are good luck. I’ve had good luck symbols that have come and gone in time

68. worst flavour of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? I think root beer is rank

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? I know there’s a bunch but they come up by chance not choice

70. left or right handed? Right

71. least favourite pattern? Houndstooth?

72. worst subject? Maybe physics

73. favourite weird flavour combo? Idk if I have a favourite… dipped digestives in tatziki recently and it wasn’t bad

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 7 maybe

75. when did you lose your first tooth? In kindergarten

76. what’s your favourite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Salt and vinegar chips

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? I’d say herbs for cooking… thyme, basil, rosemary, mint

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Gas station coffee

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? School ID

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Earthy

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Fireflies

82. pc or console? Beyond me

83. writing or drawing? Writing usually

84. podcasts or talk radio? Pods

84. barbie or polly pocket? Neither

85. fairy tales or mythology? Mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes? Cookies

87. your greatest fear? Balding unfulfilled potential infection insanity

88. your greatest wish? Romantic love

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake? I feel like the way certain trips fell together was lucky

91. boxes or bags? Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight

93. nicknames? Jet yetti jules julio

94. favourite season? Summer

95. favourite app on your phone? Spotify, duolingo, YT… soft spot for all my old travel apps

96. desktop background? Lake water

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? I think around 5

98. favourite historical era? Don’t have one

[og-danny-dorito]

Hannibal Lecter Headcanons

(my gay ass over here thirsting over a godamned cannibal, why did god create this walking disaster of horniness and unbridled depression)

S F W :

- as you may know, Hannibal Lecter is a man no short of expectations, a walking spectacle of perfection itself on the surface but a complicated being underneath to test the limits of what a monster really means

- he smokes

- while he's not an avid chain smoker he does do it every once in a while, like after killing someone who was particularly difficult or pondering something that requires deep thought

- he understands if you don't smoke or don't want to have him smoking around you, he'd rather be polite than give into whatever desire he's feeling. he can't stand the shitty ones though, they're just nasty

- he's had a lot of lovers in his life, but he only remembers vividly the few that did not try to change some of his habits out of fear

- he doesn't feel much emotion at all, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel

- although he may not admit it, he wants to be accepted by whoever he cares for over all else. this can tie back to his sister, although he barely feels it since when he was a very young man, not long after her death. he'd rather feel needed, wanted really. but this is only felt in certain moments, such as sitting in silence in a room with someone or watching their movements as they do basic actions that's can entail deeper meanings

- he's very, very good at body language and how to interpret it (obviously) and how to deal with social situations

- as a physiologist he's seen a lot of different mental cases, states of mind, viewpoints, problems, etc. and so being in a relationship with someone who might have something along those lines is literally not a problem (i mean he technically fell in love with will so-)

- I mean it's his job, so he knows how to calm down someone having a panic attack in no time, but if it'ssomeone closer to him he may have a moment of concern before dealing with it accordingly

- feelings aren't exactly something he's used to, for the most part so it'll freak him out a little if he finds himself caring for someone fairly easily. of course he still feels, it's just not as intense as it used to be. it's partially why he “slips” easily when there's a particular event with someone he genuinely cares about, leaving him in a slightly shocked state of acting upon instinct before treating it like anything else

- he's very self controlled, both physically and mentally

- I headcanon that when he was a teenager/young adult (watch Hannibal Rising to get what I mean) he was much less in control of what he felt in that moment. for instance, crying when Lady Murasaki told him to forgive the men he was intending to kill. it must've hurt to have someone so close to him be so disgusted with him like that

- this can also mean that he only feels afflicted emotionally by those he's very close to. lovers not really, but people he considers as those he needs to be up to a particular standard to outside of the realm of decency? it hurts when you look at him like you're scared of him, dissaproving of what he's doing as if you're negating his efforts

- he cares about you, only you

- seriously, there's not much he genuinely cares about enough to want to keep safe for all eternity, but you're his everything. you're not just some fucktoy, you're a person, a mind, and he wants to control and watch you tick like a clock he intends to take apart and rebuild. seriously, he just wants you to love him as much as he loves you

- it's very likely that you were kidnapped against your will

- he doesn't want a partner he can control, or minipulate easily without a serious challenge. he's not much of a sadist, but he'd like to see you strain under whatever kindof inflictions he's dealing mentally. he wants to see you resist, try to fight back. it's no time any fun to dissect something that's fragile and weak

- like Michael Myers (Aka: 100% That Bitch) he wants someone strong and full of courage, someone he can see fighting for the innocent or fighting to protect something till the end of the line. your courage is what really gets to him, the fact that you won't let anyone run over you regardless of who they are

- your fighting spirit also gets him just a little bit exited when you talk back to him or snap at him when he's angry with you just an fyi

- anyway back to the less horny shit

- this may seem off topic but do you remember when deadpool’s creator said he was “pansexual” by giving a really bad definition for it and lowkey seeming kindof ignorant on what being pansexual is?

- Hannibal is sort of like that pansexual, but think of him as only liking someone when it's convenient. usually he only pretends to be romantically interested in someone because it gains him the upper hand, both males and females, but down to his core he's probably not capable of falling in love with someone unless he seriously, genuinely means it. so far this has only been males and females (cough cough lady murasaki, will graham, etc. cough cough)

- for him to genuinely love someone you need to first love him platonically, actually giving off the feeling of really caring for his wellbeing, even if he does eat people. unless he doesn't really like you prior to having you love him, he'll end up finding himself drawn to you

- it's very rare that he'll love someone first, but in the instance he does it'll probably end in a Stockholm Syndrome sort of thing where you end up loving him eventually. it's kindof dogmatic, but I mean that's just how it is. he's an intelligent psychopath with an understand of humans’ brain patterns. do you really not expect him to use that to his advantage?

- if you do expect it tho and you're still into that then you may just be a horny bastard dude idk what to tell u

- phsycially id suspect that he'd want someone who physically is weaker than him. it's a reminder of sorts, that he still has power over you no matter what. if you're shorter he's definitely into that too but this doesn't mean he isn't into beefcakes

- tbh, he kindof likes a rugged sort of look on someone. while he does like to feel powerful, he also enjoys being able to have a worthy opponent. scars are also fascinating to him. to him it's almost like art, precious and unique in their own way. plus, he himself said they were reminders of the past, so they must have good stories attached to them

- oOO ppl in suits are nice too. like godam dude if you walk up wearing a nice suit looking all clean cut n shit there's a 100% chance you're getting rawed before you can even walk out the door

- in his free time, he'd rather spend time with you above all else. simply having you in the room is nice for him, regardless of how busy he is. if he's working he'd prefer you on his lap or sitting right next to him

- physical affection is something he's actually pretty damn good with, considering his hand is almost always on you. you can think of this as one of his Jedi mind tricks to let you know you're his, but he's kindof shy about it in public the first time

- but his shyness changes once he sees that if his hand isn't directly on you people...gawk at you. and he HATES that

- you'll feel a sudden hand fly to your waist, pulling you closer as he seems not to even register what he's doing. you squeak

- “h-hey! What was that for?”

- “Should I have asked permission first, or do you like the roughness?”

- “Is this because that guy was looking at me too much?”

- “...are you implying that I'm jealous?”

- “Oh my god-”

- yeah, he’ll deny it when asked if he's being jealous, but he is. he's very, very jealous and very very possessive. of course he's already pretty well composed, and he's a master at hiding his facial expressions, but that doesn't mean he won't quirk a brow or exhale slowly if you're being provoked in any way shape or form. expect the person who was annoying you to be gone. but don't worry about their suspicious dissapearence, instead sit down and have dinner! he's serving a nice pot pie with some Brussels sprouts and whatever other side dish you want! where'd the meat come from? that's not important, just relax

- he's sure he made the person more exquisite now that you actually enjoy them without having to talk to them

- oh! he obviously does most of the cooking, but if you can cook he's definitely up to critique and give you advice. of course you can only use his cuts of meat, and he'd much rather help you with cooking than let you do all the work. domestically he's the perfect partner since he's already fairly good at living on his own, and prefers to take care of others rather than get taken care of

- idealy he'd like to go out to a nice place to eat for a date, or just spending some time alone with you in front of the fire is fine with him. as long as you're near him. he dislikes places where there's too many people or just not a good area of town to be in in the first place, but honestly he's always been inclined to things that reek of upper class or fancy themes

- he loves to spoil you too, buying you nice things or nice clothes and making you wear them almost all the time. he doesn't really expect anything in return, but if you can't figure out a gift that's within your paycheck you can always make him something or pay him in - EHEM - other ways (you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

- although it's kindof sad, he's got a lot of ptsd from when he was a child. of course he's not open to talking about it, but just staying with him when he has a nightmare or placing your hands on his waist when he's in that state will calm him down in no time, although it's very rare 

- he'd never hurt you, but he can grow a bit distant at times when he's particularly angry. if your relationship is more manipulative, he might resort to mental abuse as a way to keep you in line. but it's unlikely you'll even be living for very long if that's what your relationship is

- hannibal’s a man of few words, so he may not say I love you very often. he means it though when he does, although it's hard to get out the first time

- he's a one of a kind lover outside of the whole killing people thing, so once you actually get used to his cannibalistic ways and meet all his standards so as not to hurt you, expect to be treated like a queen/king that even outshines the greatest nobles. you are his, and it will take divine intervention from Satan himself to keep you apart as far as he's concerned

[ezramercvr]

『JOE KEERY ❙ CISMALE』 ⟿ looks like EZRA ‘MERCY’ MERCER is here for HIS JUNIOR year as a BUSINESS student. HE is 24 years old & known to be INTELLIGENT, OBSERVANT, CALLOUS & INSINCERE. They’re living in PERKINS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ bri. 22. est. she/they.

pinterest can be found HERE

ok so mercy grew up in n never left hell’s kitchen ny fr his entire life until he was abt 20 when he finally got shipped to connecticut to go to radcliffe

his dad vinny mercer is the right hand man of a rly well known mob boss named lars amaretto………. so basically when lars said jump vinny said how high . has literally maimed n killed ppl its quite a lot n he was in the gang since he was 13 so literally violence n anger is rly all mercy knows??

when he was 20 lars demanded tht vinny sent mercy to go to school elsewhere to widen the parameters of their trade n he wld pay fr everything so vinny was like ya ok idc n off mercy went

their gang mostly runs a gun/weapon trading business, bt they’re also rly well known fr selling id’s to criminals on the run n do a side job of selling illegal drugs, mainly cocaine, heroin, n mdma/pills which mercy is basically in charge of now, the drug part is run only by him in connecticut n his younger brother back home in hell’s kitchen

the reason they decided to send mercy off to school instead of his brother donovan (ducky) is bc his brother’s face is . pretty heavily damaged after vinny caught his youngest son trying to run away when he was 15 n they savagely were jst like . ya we dnt wanna send him away he draws more attention so. thts the life mercy grew up in!

goes by mercy bc vinny thought it was a funny n ironic nickname, plus he wanted it to b a constant reminder of how weak mercy was when he was younger n his dad used to train him fr fights, wld beat him pretty bad when they were training until he literally begged his dad fr mercy

he stuck w the nickname when he left fr connecticut so tht he wldnt forget where he came from n knew wht vinny/lars cld do to him if they ever found tht he tried to get out of the gang etc. n also bc its frankly all he knows which is depressing bt thts life!

he doesn’t rly know his mom, she left when he was 4 n vinny’s been looking fr her ever since and mercy rly hopes he never finds her cause he’s pretty sure he’s planning on killing her once he does

as punishment whenever deals didn’t go well or mercy fucked up in anyway lars used to leave cigarette burns on him n he still carries on this himself bc frankly he’s paranoid if he doesn’t /:

drinks scotch like it’s water

has cheeky samples of his own products (pretty much only the coke bt . still)

enjoys hookups hates relationships, he’s been in like one (1) relationship tht was pretty emotionally abusive w/o them realizing n then jst ended rly awfully

all things considering he’s actually quite humorous but his jokes . never rly land since they never actually make much sense n they’re frankly almost always offensive lksdglknsdglh

is as straightforward as they come

surprisingly tho a rly gd friend, has stabbed someone in their hand before fr a girl he was friends with in high school even tho he offends his friends more often than not

he’s mean without reason to b a lot tho dnt get me wrong hes still a terrible person who will make someone cry bc hes having a rough day

i can’t write straights for the life of me so in my head he’s bi bt probs has a preference towards women when hooking up jst bc they’re easier to manipulate which is awful bt u kno . smiles bt it doesn’t reach my eyes

i think thts all i have on him……………. some plot ideas:

anyone who knows him from hell’s kitchen?? cld b fun, he was pretty chaotic when his dad wasn’t around so

ppl he deals to mayhaps

fwb’s fo sho

past fwb’s tht got tired of his shit lkdsgklsdg

maybe someone who he ghosted bc he cld tell he was catching feels?? n was like ew i’m good thanks.

enemies………. feel like he wld have quite a few of those

he also does need a few friends winks

anything u want!! yeehaw!

[crowsent]

👶,⭐,💘, and💻. Love you!!

thank you for ask anon! writer ask game is here if yall wanna send in something. still taking asks for these btw

👶- advice for new writers =

yall this is hella fucking generic but PRACTISE. theres a reason almost literally every writer on tumblr gives the advise of “practise practise practise” and that reason is it works. practise doesnt mean ‘oh just write bc youll automatically get better over time’ it means ‘write bc if you dont, you wont figure out what you need to improve.’ did yall know that i literally had no sentence variation in the past? i started every sentence with [character name] or [character pronoun] and i didnt realise until i was 15/16 and i only realised bc i started writing a lot.

i think there’s a fear of failure with new writers. there’s this lingering doubt of  “what if its not good?” and boy howdy i will answer that question right fucking now. it wont be good. when i compare my current work to my earlier work, my earlier work sucked fucking shit. i spelled soldier with a fucking ‘j’ and i had no idea what the hell a point of view was. and thats okay. whoever tells you that youre going to perfect writing is a fucking liar. there is no perfecting writing. 20 years from now, imma look at the writing from today and im gonna think it sucks shit. writing is a process. its a craft. you get better and better over time and the way you get better is by experimenting w different styles, different genres, different ways of writing.

and the only way you can experiment and improve is through practise. in video games, especially rpgs (which are my favourite kind of video games), you struggle in the early game. youre at a low level, you dont have good equipment, you have a hard time moving to the next area. but the only way you progress is by grinding, gaining levels, and getting stronger. same w writing. if youre a level 1 writer, just starting out, no idea what to do, just experiment. fuck around a bit. write crackships, write rarepairs, write niche self-indulgent reader/character fics. at the end of the day, you should write for yourself. its good and cool if other people like your stuff and validate all your hard work, but at the end of the day, the one who should enjoy your writing the most is yourself.

you WILL mess up and you WILL struggle, but thats the only way you can improve. i struggle with pacing the most. still do. but others might have pacing down pat and struggle instead with word choice or pov or something else. cant figure out where you need to improve if you dont write, so just practise and worry about all the fine print later

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration? =

this is definitely not universal, but i just sit on my bed, close my eyes, and meditate. cycle through all my emotions and thoughts and filter them out. then i just toss everything out the damn window. like. id just meditate for a while, focus on breathing, on experiencing the present, picture a field and a tree and myself and breathe. thoughts fly by and i let them happen but dont focus on it.

meditating gives me some semblance of emotional control bc i normally have none, and it gives me kind of this space. this safe space that only exists for me and me alone. so i use that space to let the world drift away. just me and my thoughts and sometimes, those thoughts end up being good writing ideas. but i usually meditate for a set amount of time. like 15 minutes or 30 minutes so i dont write until i finish meditating.

then when i get out of my headspace, i open up my laptop and see what i remember. thinking too hard about something causes it to muddy up. same with art. in digital art, artists flip the canvas to refresh their eyes, see if there’s anything weird or wonky about the illustration that they normally dont see bc theyve gotten used to it. flipping the canvas is like giving our eyes a jumpstart and lets us see what we could do better. in traditional art, its turning the canvas this way and that or repositioning yourself. meditating is like that. a break. a cleanse. a kind of pause where you dont think about anything and just try to process what you already have. you relax and kind of let yourself float down a river of thoughts and sometimes, a fish would jump out of that river and youd go “hey, thats a good idea. i should try that” so when you get out of the river, youre refreshed and ready to go.

same principle with showers. more ideas come to you in the shower when you dont have anything to write with bc youre not thinking about it. youre not focusing on finding inspiration or motivation so ideas naturally flow through you. you know that feeling when you want to do x then someone comes along and says “hey you should do x” and suddenly all motivation to do x leaves? same w your brain. focus too much on “i should be writing” or “i want inspiration” and its never gonna come. just let things happen. at least, thats how i do it. some people might get inspiration by reading or watching tv. everyones different so if thats not what works out for you, dont feel pressured to try my method

💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite? =

magic au. specifically fantasy au set in like a pre-modern era. shows like avatar where theres all this magic and fantastical beasts and so on and so forth. semi-modern like six of crows and nevernight are great too. i want that magic to be woven into people’s lives. harry potter is okay but there’s like this separation between magic and muggle. there’s this feeling of “magic” but like as a tool. like a spoon or a gun or a shovel. i want magic au’s that are INTEGRATED with the world its set in.

like in atla, earth kingdom people have trains they move with bending while fire nation people have machines powered by heat and steam. both correspond to their bending and makes sense for the world they live in. but if your plot is like harry potter and its less worldbuilding and more action, then there’s this book series called seasons rising (read it. so good) where there’s a bunch of spells but the spells have character. the people using the spells GIVE it character and it feels much more intimate. pokemon does the whole fantasy mixed w reality better. give two trainers the exact same pokemon and by the time that pokemon reaches lvl 50, its gonna have a different moveset, different fight style, etc bc it was shaped by the world and people around it. i like harry potter but tbh it could have been so much better

for the least favourite au, it’s A/B/O i dont like the whole “omegas are only good for breeding hurr durr” and “alphas are violent and aggressive and cant control themselves around omegas” thing and it squicks me out. major squick. i read the original harry potter squick (THAT one. yeah. you know the one) and i still hate a/b/o more. i get why people like it, and there are one or two fics set in a/b/o au that i enjoy reading, but as a whole, i severely dislike a/b/o fics.

the themes are squick, the character dynamics get so messed up, and shipping dynamics (bc a/b/o fics usually have shipping) just get so blown out of proportion. there are so many a/b/o fics that turn ooc or the character interpretations radically change or something else. no hate against a/b/o fans bc yall are amazing for writing/drawing yalls au. there are things that you can only do in this setting and exploring those things can be incredibly fun for people, but for me personally, its not an au i like to visit.

💻- three works of yours that are must reads =

i. dont know what fandom youre in anon or your genre preferences. so ill just rec you one fic for a different fandom each with kind of different genres. ts masterlist is on my side @hufflepuff-deceit and regular fanfic masterlist is on my writing blog @crownonymous 

(BNHA) Viper. its my first serious attempt at fanfic in YEARS and its my baby. currently has 7 chapters, i havent updated it in a while bc im hyperfocused on ts rn, but i love it to bits. its just all of my fav bnha fics crammed into one fic. quirkless kind of villain izuku with stain as a mentor as they work together to bring light to the injustices of hero society and where bakugos bullying has visible and long-lasting repercussions? sign me the fuck up. you can read it on ao3 HERE bc its not on tumblr. kind of fast-paced, has a lot more action scenes than anything else ive written. heavy plot-wise but has a lot of humour and comedy to break things up

(Kimetsu no Yaiba) I Pray To God He Hears You. not related to my other kny fic oleander which is a multichap retelling au. iptghhy is a standalone one-shot and kind of a character study on one giyuu tomioka. i love him so much. giyuu is my baby and i adore him. so of course i wrote a sad fic focusing on him. well technically, the fic focuses on giyuu AND his relationships.  SPOILERS for chapters 130 and 131 of the manga. focuses mostly on giyuu and sabito, but there’s a fair bit of giyuu and tanjiro and urokodaki.  you can read it HERE bc this is also not on tumblr. also deals with heavy things but more emotion-wise since it doesnt have that much of a plot. loss. grief. moving on. survivors guilt. that kind of stuff.  very sad. hurt but with comfort, especially at the end.

(Sanders Sides) Logan’s Birthday Fic: Logicality. just what the title says. i wrote 5 different fics and published them all on logans bday but the logicality one received the most feedback and honestly? the cutest of the bunch. its gonna be crossposted onto ao3 but for now, you can read it HERE on my ts sideblog. theres no plot since its literally just domestic and relationship fluff. and puns. patton is in the fic, theres gonna be puns. nothing but good things and warm feelings bc logan deserves it.

-

thank you so much for such interesting asks anon! i enjoyed answering these. have a lovely day!

[versctles]

SEND A "!" FOR OUR MUSES MARRIED LIFE

@younqdrunk said: ! for obviously alvaro/wren and if you feel like it, anyone else you see getting married, surprise me 👀

ALVARO AND WREN

Who was the one to propose: we both know it is wren because he’s very expressive and assertive like that. he was really looking for the perfect timing as well. but i bet alvaro already had the marriage thing in mind, just that wren was a step ahead of him :~) Who stressed more over wedding planning: this is pretty obvious we both know it’s wren Who decorated the house: wren again ofc, and alvaro probs helps out bc he likes being wren’s cute helper whenever wren wants to be extra Who is more organized: with domestic stuff it’s 100% wren, but then alvaro does a great job taking care of the kids and his workplace seems quite organized as well Who initiates bedroom fun: both of them do, but i mean alvaro just has to breathe in wren’s presence and wren could pounce on him at that moment Who suggested kids first: i’m not sure about this bc they both love kids, so let’s make it a tie breaker and say they both had it in mind before both bringing it up at the same time Who’s more dominant: wren is bc he can be quite the control freak, but he adores his service top boyfriend absolutely adores everything about him Who’s the cuddler: they are both equally clingy with each other, but around the first time i feel like it’s alvaro then wren warms up to him and now they just can’t get their hands off of each other What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: we both know it’s stargazing, probs while having a nice picnic out that wren prepared for them :~) Who kills the spiders: wren would cry and hide behind alvaro until it’s gone, but knowing alvaro he doesn’t kill it and probs catches it to set it free outside . an angel  Who falls asleep first: idk why i imagine it’s more of wren . maybe bc alvaro rlly makes the most out of it and tires him out 👀 Who is louder? wREN jfkbngjb don’t even ask Who is more experimental? i think they both are . always wanting to try something new w each other Do they fuck or make love? they always make love .  i can’t imagine a time they just fucked bc their love is so sensual and passionate and they are both so considerate of each other Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? neither bc i mean they have each other anyway Who comes first? this is something i’m unsure of since they have sex a lot and probs last long a lot so i’ll give it a 50/50 Who is better at oral and who prefers it? they both do, and i feel like they always take their time, barely having a quickie bc they like to do foreplay and oral before intercourse Who usually initiates things? for like major extra things, probs wren . and for like small every day things probs alvaro Who is more sensitive? alvaro is more sensitive w criticism while wren is generally just a ball of sensitivity in terms of details and stuff Who has the most patience? alvaro :~) and it’s one of the trillion reasons wren is in love w him bc he’s so grateful for his patience my heart

MAX AND ZACH

Who was the one to propose: id k why i imagine this being zach esp when they’re both out and it’s that us against the world thing ?? and he permanently just wants max by his side Who stressed more over wedding planning: neither bc they aren’t picky and just want to get married Who decorated the house: i don’t think either are rlly into domestic decorating ?? but i mean zach would put a bit of effort if some guests are coming over . and by effort, i mean hire someone else to do it  Who is more organized: i’m gonna bet on this w max bc zach is just chaos wrapped up in a box, hence why he is the tazmanian devil Who initiates bedroom fun: they both do our horny bois, esp when max calls zach daddy he will nut every single time rip Who suggested kids first: i’m not sure w this one maybe max but like rlly subtle bc he wants to keep it cool and eventually zach isn’t at all against the idea of it Who’s more dominant: we both know it’s zach, but i mean max can be quite dominant too whenever he pleases, and they end up fighting for control Who’s the cuddler: mAX !! soft grumpy boi . zach probs complains w how clingy and affectionate he was at first, but i mean he’s stuck w him forever and he wouldn’t have it any other way What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: neither one of them are fussy like i imagine them just being chill couch potatos, cuddling and watching sports is enough of a classic fave Who kills the spiders: ok i’m laughing but zach will manly scream and run the hell out of there bc he’s almost gotten bitten by a spider when he was a kid so . ur on ur own max, but i mean, zach still loves u Who falls asleep first: zach bc he rlly tires himself out until his energy drops to zero and he’s passed out on top of max butt naked, but i mean he’s pulled out already Who is louder? this remains to be a mystery to me rn buuut i feel like it’s max Who is more experimental? they both are p experimental tho zach is still bitter max doesn’t wanna get fucked in a public alley . but i mean soft cold baby, can’t blame him Do they fuck or make love? it’s an alternate thing but even when they “ fuck “ there’s still that fondness that reassures them it’s so much more than sex Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? zach is a wanker so i mean, you didn’t hear it from me 👀 Who comes first? probably max, but it’s only fair bc he’s the one getting his ass fucked most of the time . and zach he rlly likes to control his orgasm Who is better at oral and who prefers it? they both love oral and anal equally i mean come on Who usually initiates things? if it’s like surprises i feel like it’s max . he seems to be a sneaky little fly . but if it’s like no chill pins him against the wall and aggressively makes out, then it is 100% zach Who is more sensitive? max i think ? but i mean zach can be rlly sensitive too u just gotta crack him right, which max has done, so i’ll answer this w both Who has the most patience? i come to think they both do ? or at least max does a bit more than zach, but zach never gives up on him anyway

CALUM AND NICO

Who was the one to propose: calum bc he when he met nico he was sure this was the only person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Who stressed more over wedding planning: neither but i come to think calum’s mother offered to do a lot of work for it since she enjoys wedding plans Who decorated the house: once again, i feel like calum’s mother offered and these two probs bonded with her while she did Who is more organized: i’ll give props to nico for this bc calum is just phew Who initiates bedroom fun: calum at first ?? since nico seems to be the shy type, but i mean when they’ve dated longer, i bet they alternately initiate Who suggested kids first: calum bc he’s so family-oriented we love him Who’s more dominant: they both are, but personality-wise i’m gonna say it’s nico Who’s the cuddler: calum is vvv affectionate w nico he can’t even hide it What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: skinny dipping, bonus when it’s like training grounds or a pool they’re not supposed to be in Who kills the spiders: they both take turns getting the spiders out, but it’s mostly calum  Who falls asleep first: idk why i imagine nico falls asleep first since calum is crazily energetic, but he’d gladly cuddle nico as he falls asleep ok they are v soft Who is louder? nico  which is why calum is forever smug about it 👀 Who is more experimental? calum is experimental as fuck so brace yourself, nico  Do they fuck or make love? they always make love, but making love can get intense w them Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? idk why i imagine this being nico, but i mean calum is always willing to offer a hand ( heh ) Who comes first? i mean from all the stimulation calum gives, i’m p sure nico does Who is better at oral and who prefers it? calum enjoys oral and idk much ab nico so maybe both ? Who usually initiates things? calum is a lil daredevil so we both know it’s 100% him ok Who is more sensitive? nico bc calum is a giant idiot that probs dropped his head when he was a baby Who has the most patience? calum does, but i mean he loves his grumpy nico

LUCA AND WREN

Who was the one to propose: wren also bc i bet they had a rlly dumb argument before that and wren was so scared of losing luca so he rlly realized how much he loves this pain in the ass and seals the deal with him Who stressed more over wedding planning: they both do, but i mean wren is def fussier since luca just wants something simple and less costly w wren’s vision Who decorated the house: wren does, which sometimes luca finds unnecessary bc of the expenses but i mean wren knows how to make a house truly look like a home Who is more organized: they both are, but i’m guessing wren is slightly more organized ? Who initiates bedroom fun: they both do, but i guess after they’ve recovered from bickering bc that seems to be their priority over sex Who suggested kids first: wren probs saw some kids while they were out in public together and just nudging luca like ‘ how many of them do u want ‘ and it starts that conversation Who’s more dominant: in bed it is definitely wren, but generally they are both dominant which is probs why they’re always at each other’s throat and can only ever handle each other Who’s the cuddler: i think it’s wren also whenever he fucks up w luca over the pettiest things, he just gets extra affectionate when he doesn’t feel like saying sorry yet What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: probs volunteering for a good cause bc they’re such angels to the world Who kills the spiders: neither one of them actually kills the spider, but they’ll both be huddled in a corner praying for it to go away, unless one of them is brave enough to like do the honors of bringing the spider outside  Who falls asleep first: it alternates between them depends who got the bigger head ache that day Who is louder? they both get rlly loud im just Who is more experimental? they both are lbr Do they fuck or make love? they hatefuck i guess, v rare occasions they make love and it’s v memorable wherever the hell they are Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? i feel like it’s wren yikes Who comes first? they alternately do, but i think it’s usually luca ? though they both last p long Who is better at oral and who prefers it? i feel like they both rlly love oral Who usually initiates things? they both do Who is more sensitive? they both get sensitive w each other, hence why they often bicker Who has the most patience? they have the equal amount of patience w each other, even when it’s v little

[elijah-hwcng]

𝒾'𝓂 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ｃｌｅａｒｅｒ/𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝓂𝓎 𝐻𝒜𝒩𝒟𝒮 ɴᴏᴡ

╰ ☀ ✧ ˖ jeon jungkook. cismale. he/him ‖ 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕦𝕝𝕥 (ɪᴛ ɪꜱ) ‖ have you seen elijah hwang at the beach recently? i remember them being so free-spirited, but they seemed a little neglectful today. it must be tough going through such hard times at only 22. even then, they still remind me of aerosol paint, over-sized hoodies, lipsticks stains on coffee mugs, and open upright pianos.

basics

name: elijah hwang

nicknames: ellie, lijah, el

age: 22

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: he prefers not to label it, but pansexual and demiromantic is probably the best description

tldr

he’s a sweet boy, doesn’t hurt people’s feelings intentionally, but he’s a little flirty, a bit of a heartbreaker. he’s great at turning on the charm but gets flustered very easily when it’s turned back on him.

has a twin brother, daniel. his bio (and their family background!) can be found here

growing up in the shadow of his twin, elijah often acts out rebelliously for attention (and maybe just to spite his perfect police officer brother a little bit)

despite that, he does care very deeply for daniel - after all, they came from the same egg or whatever - and isn’t great at expressing it, but daniel is probably the most important person in his life

tw: drug abuse, gang violence, death

got involved with the wrong crowd shortly after high school - the whole gang, drugs, ‘bad guy, duh’ kinda shebang. he was with this gang for years, getting quite the reputation and a lot of illegal money, tangled with the wrong kind of people and relationships

he traveled a lot, but when he heard daniel and his boyfriend had been jumped, it was a little too coincidental with the gang initiation he knew was happening in the same area - the very initiation he, himself, had approved of

he has never told daniel that he feels responsible for justin’s passing, but he was so filled with guilt that he has since left the gang, lost all his assets, and now works as a stripper to pay off his debts. he has never told daniel about the gang, but he says the debts are from drugs - which isn’t a total lie

(also he’s in a band and plays the keyboard)

bio

alright buckle up lads here comes the details

like i said, family history can be found in daniel’s bio (bc i’m lazy) but - since daniel was obviously their mother, stephanie’s, favourite, elijah often felt inferior and would act out for attention. i’m talking graffiti, being noisy in class, the whole shebang

his other mother, michelle, was obviously his favourite. equally doting to both her sons, elijah adores her and was often glued to her side as a kid. the only time he would obey the rules was when she asked him to listen - if stephanie asked, he would only rebel further

growing up, he and daniel were quite close, even if he did resent his brother for being - well - perfect - but how could he begrudge him for being successful?

elijah didn’t work hard in school - it wasn’t that he couldn’t get good grades, but more that he chose not to, getting grades only good enough that he could stay on the cheerleading squad

NOW LET’S LAY DOWN THE LAW. my mans might be cismale, but he LOVES pretty things. skirts, red lipstick, DANGLY EARRINGS? fam u got it. he loves that pretty shit. cheerleading squad made him wear pants for competitions n stuff but by senior year you know my boy is strutting the hallways in that little cheerleader skirt and pretty pink lipstick. call him a girl tho? he’ll punch u. or his twin will punch u. he’s a boy, thank you very much, and he doesn’t see why boys can’t enjoy pretty skirts and make up too without having to identify as a different gender.

he loves music and art - can play many instruments, and has played the piano since he was little. music and visual arts were the only subjects in school that he excelled in because he enjoyed it so much. he wanted to go to college and study them further, but his grades just weren’t high enough

so, fresh out of high school and not really knowing what to do with his life, elijah could see his brother figuring things out and heading off to the police academy while he... still didn’t know what to do

tw: drug abuse, gang violence, death

had a party phase, hitting up every club he could with his fake ID. it was only inevitable that soon enough he’d get into drugs and - well - with drugs and beautiful men and women, it wasn’t long before elijah found himself involved in a gang with heart eyes for a woman named melanie who showed him the ropes

his role was pretty standard - using his looks and charisma, he quickly became one of their best drug dealers, did a great job swindling thousands of dollars out of other gang leaders and sugar daddies and mommies alike

elijah wasn’t big in the violence side of things, more on the deception and drugs side of it, but he knew that the gang he was in had a lot of that going on. melanie assured him he wouldn’t have to ever kill anyone and she kept to that - although whether or not she did something like that wasn’t something he ever knew. the two of them traveled a lot together with the money he’d gain from their deals, and while they were never exclusive, it was potentially the closest thing to a real relationship he’d ever had

he was in italy when he got the news from daniel, and the timing was too coincidental with the report he’d received from the newest members of the gang. melanie told him he was overreacting - “that’s life, baby boy. your brother is just fine.” - and, seeing her so flippant about it, barely caring that his own brother had been attacked, it finally clicked that his rebellious thing had gone too far, and that this life wasn’t the one for him.

elijah took the first plane back to new york because he knew daniel needed him. the guilt was driving him insane - he knew it was his fault

cradling his broken brother to his chest, elijah made a vow to himself that he could never indirectly cause this to anybody else, but more importantly, that daniel could never, ever find out his involvement with the gang that took so much from him

for the sake of his brother, who he loves so much despite his struggles to show it, he decided to drop the gang, drop the drugs, and do his best to turn it all around

falling for melanie was both a blessing and a curse - if he hadn’t fallen, he probably wouldn’t have been so heavily involved in the gang, but because she had a soft spot for him, she managed to pull some strings and let him leave the gang alive

it cost him all of the illegal fortune he’d made over the years, however, and plunged him into a heavy debt to melanie, which is now why....

𝒴𝒜 𝐵𝒪𝐼 𝐼𝒮 𝐼𝒩 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒯𝑅𝐼𝒫𝒫𝐸𝑅 𝒮𝒬𝒰𝒜𝒟

since college still wasn’t an option, and now he had experience with using his looks and charisma to swindle money, elijah figured stripping wasn’t all too different

he knows his twin would give him the money if he told him he was in debt and in need of it, but to tell him, he’d have to admit of all the illegal activity he’d been involved in and admit to his role in justin’s passing - not to mention he knows daniel would have to throw him in jail if he knew that he’d been doing more a lot more than just drug dealing

instead, he tells his brother he strips because it’s fun and to get enough money to do an entrance exam and try out the whole college thing one day and that he has a slight debt from the drugs but he’s “almost done paying it”

as well as this, elijah is the keyboardist in the band killer nuns, and is happy to at least still be doing music

he still likes to wear pretty things, although he tends to prefer jeans these days, but will still wear pretty crop tops, dangly jewelery, and make up. if he feels like dressing up, out comes the silky skirts and dresses!

(and he still graffitis his art all over buildings illegally, but he knows his twin will bail him out every time)

wanted connections

first of all, if you made it this far, congrats! let’s get to business B)

roommate; ya boy is ,, broke . he can’t always meet the rent but he doesn’t mind paying your character back in less conventional ways. he would ask his twin for money, but he doesn’t want daniel to know he’s struggling financially (taken: isaac lee)

good influence; your character knows elijah is only rebellious because he feels attention-starved - with patience and affirmation, they remind him of his favourite mother and can often convince him to tone things down

partner-in-crime; this person is a free spirit, and the two of them get into all kinds of mischief, whether it’s spray painting a building or dabbling in those drugs he decided to leave behind (taken: isaac lee) (but -- would be open to ONE more partner in crime if u rly liked the sound of it uwu)

regular client; your character knows elijah is only flirty for the money, yet finds themselves coming back every time for another taste

tutor; look... my mans out here tryna get into college. he won’t admit it but he wants to make his brother proud. help a brutha out. tutor him so he doesn’t fail his entrance exams. pls. (taken: yeri song)

gym buddy; lmao a stripper gotta stay in shape somehow man

dress up buddy/platonic wifey; note: this is a connection specifically for a female character! there is ZERO sexual desire here despite the constant “when we’re 30, we’re gonna get married and make some babies” jokes and ocassional ass-grabbing. they’re comfortable af w each other. she helps him with his make up and they go shopping together and give each other cute little fashion shows in their new pretty clothes. she’s affectionately named ‘wifey’ in his contacts list and it’s not uncommon for elijah to give her a chaste kiss in greeting and say ‘honey, i’m home’. they’ve probaly considered hooking up before but figured things would be weird and that they’re better off as friends.

hook-ups; he’s demiromantic, so he’s not gonna get a crush easily, but  he likes sex and he likes pretty people so . have at him ;)

[sentiniel-butitgetsworse]

rwde

highly unpolished, awful explanation, but scene-by-scene commentary of unbridled annoyance and rage. read at your own peril.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

so the episode opens with a fight scene. sweet! cool! but its so badly staged, sometimes you have no idea what is happening the first time round. it’s crowded and messy, not a very good look? im talking about grim being hid behind ice while the camera is panning and hitting some trees when we’re literally panning out to show someone else in focus DESPITE THE FACT THEIR MITIGATION SHOULD BE FRONT AND CENTER TO LET US KNOW IT HAPPENED CLEARLY. legit! there’s the one where nora shoots at a grim and the shell explodes into black dust and the grim is gone. did it die? grim dont usually die by fuckin smoke but this one sure fuckin did i guess ‘cause i literally dont know what happened to it? no recoil and fall, just deleted and hid behind some 2d-lookin smoke! sure! why not?!?!!!?

s/o to the white/rose speedy thing that had no reason to be there and yet they did it

---

then there was the “adam ruins everything” segment where he literally just murders? everyone? like i get that its off screen for the younger audiences but also like he fucking murders everyone. literally! did i miss something? is it a good tactic now? did they think it was very villainous of him to murder people??????? god bring me back to the beginning when he actually has a good character reason for why faunus would follow him into revolution because this adam taurus is so bad he’s worth flushing down the drain for.

“tHe BeLlAdOnnA nAme HaS bRoUgHt Me NoThINg BUt gRiEf”

also that opening shot where adam is proud. jfc what? is he even part of salem’s crew anymore? was the Adam short supposed to tell us he isnt? is anyone reviewing this and thinking 100% it’s a good idea?????

wait why is this scene even second? that’s a really awkward position to put it in the whole episode? honestly? like it kinda underlines how awkward a villain adam really is; it has no build up, no reason to be there. sure, the audience is hungry to know what happened to adam, but there’s legitimately no reason to put it as the second scene in the episode, there’s no context??????

callout post for this scene because its literally just voicelines while panning slowly through the bottom floor of the room. and the blood only shows up later??? also is the white fang only comprised of like 7 people now??? isnt it a globally feared organization (ie. isis)????

---

there are two bodyguards for the train. two? two. and for some reason they’re asking for dlc to provide more/personal protection? hello, did i miss something? anyone thought it was a good idea? what class of transportation did they get? if it was dangerous enough that on a train ride they’d need people to guard the journey it wouldn’t even be built there? or what, did they get a max-luxury, train ride with insurance kinda deal? and it had two (2) bodyguards? two (2)!!!!! or was it in the middle of the road??? i may have enough context for the environment but none on economy of this place i swear

“hey ladies we’ll protect you wink” jaune and lie ren literally sitting one (1) feet away not saying anything, could be everyone’s moment to justify “hey we’re literally huntsman despite being kids, we know what we’re doing” but qrow has to step in and apparently his  credentials would ward off some bodyguards???? like “hi yes sorry im the dad of literally 8 kids, i can protect them all” not a convincing argument here bud

illia deserves more time on screen and also closure because neptune fuckin hit on her and that’s obviously enough to change scenes right

also neptune being “you really gonna let her go? l:/” feels like he’s salty instead of wukong tbh; wukong feels/sounds like the literal i can do anything kinda guy -- which he is in mythology and probably in universe (except for intelligence i guess, despite the fact he literally outsmarts his opponents through a lot of his mythos) so i dont mind him being let off the hook, but any hesitation implied during this scene? weak

illia building up to kiss but hugging blake instead, but blake kissing wk on the cheek straight up on camera yo really

---

blake emos in the corner and because its queued up right after the wk/neptune scene its not a far fetch to say she’s emo-ing about wk but turns out its yang? would’ve preferred the setup to be stronger (blake watches yang get on the bed and feels sad/regret, zoom in on yang’s arm to show the audience but not tell them)

i give props to blake being shown “wait leme get that for you” real out the way though, because it underlines properly that blake feels ridiculously bad and wants to do something to make up for yang. good characterization/storytelling!

then they break it w/ like a 30s scene of yang and blake making up almost immediately with a “oh everyone will feel better about it soon :)” BRUH SHE GUILTY BOUT YOUR FUCKIN ARM BITCH CUT BACK TO REALITY DAMN the running away part is sincerely legitimate but also??? blake should be a/ more anxious than that and b/ be more worried about???? yang’s arm??????? for real m8

---

“dont let anyone else die” a/ assumes the bodyguard trying to defend the train literally died and b/ also really fell flat? as a line? get something better...????

genuine dislike for the tactic of qrow fights the Big Boss and everyone gets a handful of weaklings; to stall? possible. but also just feels like a bad tactic overall? also their animations always look like they’re doing an rpg battle; one ability used + animation! then return to original position. that’s a big fallacy of fighting monty oum style and i genuinely hope they recognize it soon

“YOU’RE ATTRACTING THE GRIM TO THE PASSENGERS” ??? i get the part where leading them to the back of the train may help (having them all divided in sections [grim + hunters, passengers, front of train respectively] may help but how does automation attract grim again? like, turrets shooting at them would do so if they’re in range, and they all came from the back so they’d move along towards the middle, but also they wouldn’t continue moving forward? i guess? what im saying is they should really just be around jnxr + oscar instead of way forward in front

when the bodyguard tried to get into the train and barely made it, that SNAP sound was just. raw. i felt that. good! i was very scared/horrified/eager to see if they’d literally break off his arm and he’d just be lying there in a pool of blood or something in shock. he didnt because of aura and i don’t know what to say because a/ it definitely wouldn’t be a bruise and b/ if he had aura and was in the bodyguarding business, wouldn’t he also have a proper semblance to fight off grim most likely? and he aint using it so why he so confident for dlc earlier the heck

bumblebee looks back to the carriage and one lady’s just with her baby like a cheap heartstrings tug

“WHY WON’T YOU TELL US THAT” yang’s line here assumes that they’ve asked about it before and ozpin/oscar refused to answer. i disagree? i think it works better with “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US THAT?” because it definitely was a factor they’d all have to take into account with regards to travelling w/ it in the first place. which they are. tbh yang (and jaune in the op) has every right to be mad at him real talk but also change that line please it bothered me so much

---

blake sees the hooded adam figure and honestly idk what kind of omen that is but it feels/looks weird. another no context scene i guess. tbh id take that one out of this episode entirely and shuffle it next episode probably. (and put the adam ruins everything scene at the back of the episode)

grim stop chasing because tunnel. and then they chase the train through the tunnel really slowly? feels weird but okay i fuckin guess; these are just the things im willing to pass on

ren and jaune look at each other like “lets do it” but why does ren? look up? like there’s no extra effects there, its not visible that he’s trying really hard to extend his semblance out. no cool semblance-using eye powers there. it feels kinda cheap for him to do that w/o any additional highlights that he’s activating his aura? also creepy

OH THERE’S THAT SCENE. yang starts off the Big Fight Montage with grabbing the grimm by its horns and then flips it around. cool move! then she promptly punches it up and closes her eyes. what? tbh that was ridiculously weak after a stupid good setup. budget aside i’d say there was an opportunity for a focused choreograph there; instead of a punch up, use a bullet fire up, keeping the enemy’s front half up in the air for a longer period of time. run under, punch/kick the underbelly, bounce off to the side, bullet fire off the side of the train. 

blake cutting off the tail was a good move. rt studios deciding to change shots when the enemy has the same pose, so that we cut to ruby fighting the same kind of grimm is not. it breaks clarity for the viewers, that’s not how matching cuts should work tbh

these big grimm dying in a couple of hits are also just? kinda weak-feeling. like these characters got stronger from rpg levels, but not from actual combat training and learning to outsmart your enemies, or upgrading your weapons. feels cheap.

ruby bouncing around in attempt to kill these grim is kinda cute? which may be what they were trying to do? but also not well choreographed i guess. it doesn’t flow too well, just bounces in seperate spikes.

when weiss redirects the flying grimm to ruby, it feels like its? not clear what she did. was it a semblance/shield? colour that blue, we know she uses white but white on white doesn’t work out well. ruby’s scythe sinking into the grimm also doesn’t work great because you get confusion when the shot is supposed to show it sink into the grimm, but you cant see the scythe blade sink into it. like you could only get it from context after watching it that she sent the grimm flying by doing the above, but dont recognize the action in the moment.

callout post to yang and blake fuckin shooting at nothing when there’s a clear path/shot to ruby and qrow’s big monster.

fireball just kinda looked cheap. there wasn’t a long breathy build up, and the fireball just feels way too fast (camera or distance?); reasonable that qrow would be hit by it, but cheap-feeling in the sense that it shouldn’t have happened/it felt unfair, that it happened. he should’ve gotten knocked on his ass by power/strength and being caught off guard, and it felt like more like “oh no he got knocked down! D:”

HHHHHH WEISS ICE SKATES TO THE GRIM BUT ITS NOT LIKE YOU PAY ATTENTION BECAUSE SOMETHING ELSE CALLS FOR IT AND THEN SHE LEAPS UP TO THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE GRIM. SHE’S WHITE, THE BACKGROUND IS WHITE, YOU LOSE SIGHT OF HER, I LEGIT THOUGHT SHE VANISHED BEHIND THE GRIMM BUT IT WOULDNT MAKE SENSE FOR THAT TO HAPPEN. IN THE NEXT SHOT YOU MAY SEE HER AT THE LEFT BUT HER SEMBLANCE IS BLACK TO MAKE HER STAND OUT MORE BUT THEY DIDNT DO THAT FOR THE PREVIOUS SHOT WHY????????

“YANG!” yang promptly bounces off a grimm that isnt shown to have hurt or is dead from the fight and runs off to the bigger grimm as called. understandable, but the other grimm? is just? there? not dead? not doing anything???

also the we need to ground it idea feels really cheap? the grimm isn’t a problem because of its wings, it’s a problem because it’s being dealt with by one (1) person who decides it’s best fighting it on one (1) front vs two on a train. there’s so many ways to tackle this guy! we know qrow’s capable of jumping onto it, but all he’s doing is that, instead of moving to the other side and maybe catching it off guard?????? qrow, fight fucking better.

s/o to qrow/ruby pulling off a move together, cute but also they should’ve been slicing it at different points of the grimm, because they would’ve just died right away if they both went on the same plane? or anywhere near each other? weapons are fucking dangerous we remember right?

GRIMM LAUNCHES A FIREBALL AND IT GOES ON AN UPWARDS TRAJECTORY. IT DOESNT AND INSTEAD GOES IN AN ARC WHEN IT NEVER NEEDED TO. HERE’S HOW YOU COULD DERAIL THE TRAIN. FIREBALL, MOUNTAIN, AVALANCHE/ROCKSLIDE, TRAIN DESTRUCTION. OLD GRANDMA THAT STUMBLES OUT OF THAT/APPEARS BEHIND THE TEAM AFTERWARDS IS MORE IMPRESSIVE FOR HAVING ADAPTED TO THAT FROM INSIDE THE TRAIN THAN TO JUST SIT THERE AND POP OUT LATER LIKE xD lmao wassup yall?

---

yeah thats it and here’d be the adam ruins everything scene right before the opening but we cant get what we want so w/e

[nsfw-bnha-and-dangan]

Could I request the ndrv3 guys with a bi female S/O? But they don't find out she's bi until her extremely biphobic ex sees them on a date together and goes to "warn" the guys about her? (with said ex being why she was too nervous to come out to them?)

I love this idea! I’m actually a bi girl myself so I definitely get where this is coming from!

Shuichi Saihara:

You guys were just relaxing at the library, switching novels and manga as you finished them and nuzzling into Saihara’s shoulder

When you glanced up you noticed your ex walking over, your body visibly stiffening at the sight

He wasn’t exactly… accepting of who you were, saying some horrible things after finding out that you were bi

You had kept that part of yourself a secret from Saihara, not wanting the same thing to happen with him

But it looked like your secret was about to come out as your ex came up to Saihara and tapped him on the head.

“Hey, dude, I see your hanging with (Y/N) here. Figured id let you know that she’s a bit of whore, shes probably fucking a few girls behind your back.”

“Excuse me?” Saihara asked, confusion and anger bristling up inside him.

You were already close to tears, digging your nails into your palms and refusing to look at either of them

“Yeah, she likes chicks too. What, she didn’t tell you? Figures, makes it easier to eat pussy behind your back. Sorry to burst your bubble, man, but I’m doin’ you a favor.”

Your ex walked off and you burst into tears, trying to be quiet since you were in a library. “I-I’m not… I’m not cheating on you, I s-swear!”

Saihara pulled you close and wiped your tears, trying to keep other peoples attention from you. “I know, I know you wouldn’t. But… was the other part true?”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Y-yeah… I’m bi, Shuichi, a-and I wanted to tell you but… my ex broke up with me on the spot when I told him and I r-really don’t want to lose you!”

You started crying again, hiccuping when you felt a kiss pressed to your hair. “I would never break up with you, especially not over your sexual preferences. You like who you like, there’s nothing wrong with that. I trust you and I know you would never cheat on me.”

You smiled softly as Saihara pulled you up, neatly putting your books back on a cart to be reshelved and taking you home for some cuddles and crime shows, the best date you could think of with no chance of being yelled at by your ex

Kaito Momota:

Kaito was eagerly leading you around the space museum, pulling you from exhibit to exhibit with the biggest grin on his face.

Perhaps you weren’t as into space travel as your boyfriend but you were having fun nonetheless

Well, you were anyways

Seeing your ex, who apparently worked there now, immediately had you hiding behind Kaito, shaking and trying to convince him to leave.

“Just a sec babe, I just want to finish reading this. We’ll go to that little cafe you like, I promise!”

It was too late anyway, your ex had already spotted you and made his way over, crossing his arms.

“Shocked to see you hanging around a guy now, after what you told me. Or maybe he’s just for show so you can fuck all the chicks you want and not get called out for it.”

You whimpered as Kaito turned around, touching your arm gently in hopes of calming you. “What the fuck, asshole! I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about but you need to leave, I’m not going to let you talk to my girlfriend like that!”

“Hah, seriously? You haven’t told him that you like both cock and pussy? That’s honestly hilarious, poor guy has no idea how much a little slut you are! Telling you now, buddy, might want to drop her before you catch her scissoring with some slut.”

That was it for Kaito, no one talks about his girl like that! So he punched your ex square in the face and walked off, pulling you behind him until you got outside

You were crying when you sat down on the bench, fighting to breath as Kaito rubbed your back gently.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay. Shh, I got you, I won’t let him do anything to hurt you, I promise!”

“Y-you must think I’m h-horrible after what he said…”

Kaito shook his head quickly, drying your tears with his jacket sleeve and making sure your ex hadn’t followed you out

“No, honestly I didn’t really get what he was saying, something about you liking girls? If… if your gay i-”

“I’m not gay, just b-bi… I swear, I love you, i-its not a lie!” You waved your hands quickly, earning a little smile from Kaito

“Hey, its cool, it doesn’t bother me. I wish you would have told me, but if that asshole was the reason you didn’t then I get it. I love you too, babe, and ill make sure he doesn’t touch you again!”

You sniffled and let Kaito pull you into a tight hug, fingers tickling your sides until he got a giggle out of you.

“That’s better! Come on, let’s go to the gift shop! Loser buys the astronaut ice cream!”

You squealed and raced Kaito to the gift shop, his relaxed attitude making you feel much better.

Kiibo:

You had taken Kiibo to the park, laying in the grass to watch the clouds. You kept pointing out little shapes that he struggled to see, overanalyzing and blushing when you kissed him

When a shadow loomed over you, you both sat up, squinting to see who was there.

“Long time no see, (Y/N)”

The second you heard that voice you went pale, it was most definitely your ex-boyfriend, likely here to start something

“W-what are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you with your little robo-boyfriend here and figured id give him the heads up about your little habit.”

Kiibo looked very confused, looking between you and your ex nervously

“Don’t d-do this…”

“What, and let him get screwed over the same way I did? Listen, dude, I don’t really get your deal but your girlfriend here likes pussy. Actually, that’s probably why she likes you, pretty sure robots don’t have fuckin’ dicks.”

Your ex laughed and walked off, leaving you with silent tears streaming down your face and a very confused boyfriend trying to figure the situation out

“Who was that? And what was he saying about you?”

Before Kiibo could ask any more questions, you kissed him messily, pulling back with a sob

“I-I… he was my ex, we had a really bad break up. A-and he was kind of right. I’m bi, Kiibo.”

“Bi?”

Sometimes you forget that Kiibo doesn’t always get human things so you quickly explain that it meant you liked both girls and guys.

“B-but I love you the most, I would never stray!” You cried, sincerely hoping Kiibo would believe you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting to be hit or yelled at like your ex had done when you told him, but you only felt the cold chill of metal arms wrapping around you

“I’m sorry you felt as though you had to hide that from me. I may not understand sexualities very well but I trust you, I know that you love me. A-as for my… anatomy…”

You shook your head and just nuzzled into Kiibo’s chest, hearing the whir of his fans. “Don’t worry about that, I don’t care. I just want you, Kiibo.”

You refused to let go and Kiibo didn’t mind at all, laying you down and using the blanket to make sure his metal body didn’t hurt you or make you too cold.

You wound up falling asleep on Kiibo for a few hours as he stroked your hair, feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion for you as you slept

Gonta Gokuhara:

Gonta had taken you to a bug exhibit at the science museum! He was rushing all over the place, pointing out all the bugs to you and telling you their scientific names without pause.

While bugs weren’t exactly your favorite thing in the world, you loved watching Gonta when he got so excited, bouncing around like a small child.

You had been checking out some of the butterflies when you heard Gonta’s curious voice above the others in the exhibit, catching your attention.

“Gonta doesn't… understand.”

“Wow, she really knows how to pick’em, jeez. But yeah, I’m warning you, you’re going to catch her in bed with some bitch, she’s a total slut. I was smart enough to cut her the hell off before it happened and I recommend you do the same.”

Your ex walked off and Gonta looked even more confused, glancing from your ex to you repeatedly. You quickly made your way over, pulling Gonta to an empty hall and making sure your ex wasn’t around

“G-Gonta doesn’t really know what just happened… that man said really mean things about (Y/N)…”

You nodded, sighing softly. “T-that was my ex-boyfriend, Gonta. And… h-he was talking about him I’m bi.”

“Bye? (Y/N) is leaving?”

You almost giggled, taking Gonta’s hand and holding it tightly. “No, um… Bisexual, it means I like girls and guys the way most girls just like guys.”

Gonta nodded, smiling softly. “Oh! Gonta understands that! (Y/N) likes having boyfriends or girlfriends! But why was (Y/N)’s ex saying such mean things about it?”

“He’s the reason I never told you, when I told him, he, u-um…” You teared up and Gonta scrambled to hug you, nuzzling your hair.

“He said mean things to (Y/N), right? Gonta is very glad he is your ex now, (Y/N) deserves a true gentleman! A gentleman would never call his girlfriend those mean things!”

You smiled into Gonta’s chest, pulling back to kiss him sweetly. “That’s why I’m with you now, because your the best gentleman and I love you, I promise I would never cheat on you.”

“Gonta knows! If (Y/N) was a boy she would be a great gentleman!” You blushed a little, that was some of the highest praise from Gonta and it had you smiling, feeling much better than before

Kokichi Ouma:

It was one of the rare days when Ouma was content with a simple date at a cafe, the two of you sharing a miniature cake.

“Mmm, (Y/N)-chan? Can you get me one of those sweet coffee thingys?” You winced, the last thing Ouma needed was caffeine, but you gave him a kiss and went up to the counter to order the horribly sweet drink

When you glanced back over someone had taken your seat, another glance had all the color leaching from your face. It was your ex and based on the look on Ouma’s face, he didn’t have anything nice to say.

The second the coffee was put into your hand you walked back over, just in time to hear the end of the conversation.

“Hey, no need to get all pissy. I’m just trying to warn you before you wind up walking in on her and some other chick with their legs in the air. Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll invite you to join, eh?”

Your ex laughed and smirked at you, moving to get up before Ouma’s hand shot out and grabbed his shirt, an eery smile on his face

“So that’s what you think of her, hmm? Listen, buddy. I’m the leader of a very large, very evil organization. And with one phone call, I can have a few of my followers come to your house in the middle of the night. They will tie you down, strip you naked, and turn you into the biggest laughing stock the world has ever seen. And that if I’m in a good mood. Now fuck off before I have to pull out my phone, got it?”

Your ex sighed and walked out, waving a hand in annoyance. Ouma pulled you to sit, taking his coffee and looking you over. “That wasn’t a lie, by the way. I could totally get DICE to do that.”

“T-thanks…” You managed a shaky smile and took a bite of the cake, blinking back tears.

“(Y/N)-chan! Stop looking so sad, ill cry too!”

“Sorry, Kokichi, I just… you weren’t bothered by what he said?”

Ouma shrugged and sipped his coffee, grinning as the sugar filled his system. “What, that you like girls too? I’m bi too, doesn’t bother me.”

You blinked, Ouma was bi? Well, that certainly made things interesting. You smiled softly and took a sip of your own drink.

“Awe come on! You still look all upset! Let’s go to headquarters and play that game you bought!”

Ouma grabbed his coffee and his cake, pulling you outside with his free hand as you stumbled and tried not to fall.

But a couple rounds of Twister with a very hyper (and handsy) Ouma was more than enough to lift your spirits, ending up in a tickling match that had you breathless and giggling.

Rantarou Amami:

The two of you were shopping at the mall, Amami helping you find a dress for a relative’s wedding, when it happened.

Apparently, your ex had finally found a job because he was working at the first store you peeked into, coming up to Amami as you ducked into a changing room

“Hey, dude. I see you’re with (Y/N) there and I figured id give you a heads up about her. She likes chicks, so I figured you’d want to know before you see for yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

Your ex laughed at Amami’s growing confusion, not realizing the unbridled anger brewing inside him. “Don’t bother asking for a threesome either, little slut likes to keep the bitches for herself.”

“Alright, you need to stop. My girlfriend is wonderful and I know she would never cheat on me, regardless of her sexuality. I don’t know why the two of you broke up but it looks like it was for good reason if this is how you spoke to her. (Y/N), get dressed, we aren’t going to buy anything here.”

You quickly got dressed and followed Amami out, letting him lead you into another store and hiding in a changing room.

“Alright, so I have a feeling there’s something you need to tell me?”

You nod and sit on the bench, Amami holding your hand reassuringly.

“S-so, you probably figured out that I’m bi… I hope it isn’t a problem for you, I swear i-”

Amami leaned down and kissed you sweetly, cutting you off. “Whoa, it’s okay. Two of my sisters are bi, its no big deal. Your not the kind of person who would sleep around, I trust you. Your ex, or whoever he was, isn’t worthy to be around you. You can tell me anything, okay? No matter what, we’ll have a conversation about it and get it figured out, I promise.”

You smiled and stood up to hug him, pressing your face into his chest and relishing in the warmth.

“We still need to find your dress, princess, as much as I would like to stay in here all day.”

You giggled and popped out of the changing room, letting Amami pick out some dresses for you try on, your worries melting away.

Korekiyo Shinguuji:

Korekiyo had convinced you to go around the history museum, spouting off facts as you went from exhibit to exhibit.

It may not have been your favorite date in the world but Korekiyo was clearly in his natural habitat so you were content, it was quite cute to see him bustling around to look at artifacts

It was going great up until a much too familiar face made its appearance, your ex tapping Korekiyo on the shoulder so you would both turn around.

“Well shit, I thought you were a chick. Oh well, this works. Dude, I saw you with (Y/N) and I figured id warn you about her. Shes, like, half lesbian or some shit. Either way, figured you would want to know so you can cut your losses. See ya!”

Before either of you could speak he was gone, leaving you shaking with tears in your eyes, clinging to Korekiyo’s arm. “O-oh god… fuck, I wasn’t going to tell you, I’m s-so sorry Kiyo!”

You were crying hard now and Korekiyo was quick to lead you somewhere else with fewer people, gently rubbing your back.

“Shh, darling, it’s okay. It’s quite common for humans and even animals to have sexual preferences outside of the opposite sex, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He spoke gently, letting you cry yourself out until you were able to relax a little, getting you to sit down.

“M-my ex… when I told him he f-freaked, he accused me of c-cheating and called me n-names. I was too scared to tell you, I d-didn’t want it to happen again.”

“I would never call you such horrible things, especially when you’ve done nothing wrong. Come on, smile, crying doesn’t suite such a beautiful example of humanity.”

You smiled softly at the compliment, always feeling so special when Korekiyo called you that. Your smile triggered his and you could see it in his eyes as the both of you returned to the exhibit, making sure not to give your ex even a glance as you enjoyed your evening.

Ryoma Hoshi:

You had convinced him to go to a tennis match, the first one in years. The two of you were sitting together, sipping sodas as you watched the players.

“Ryoma, can you explain how this works to me? They keep calling things out but I don’t get it…”

“Love means zero, and-”

He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, turning around to see your ex. He had seen a picture before and knew it had ended badly, so why was he talking to you guys?

“Dude, aren’t you that tennis pro who went to jail?”

“Why do you care?”

“Eh, doesn’t matter. I just figured id give you a heads up about your little girlfriend. I don’t know if she told you but there’s a pretty good chance shes fucking a chick behind your back. I never got lucky enough to catch her in the act but oh well, maybe she’ll let you in.”

With that, your ex returned back to his popcorn, muttering under his breath about the match. You had tears in your eyes and Hoshi could see how much you were hurting, looking into your lap as your nails bit into your thighs

Before he has the chance to do anything, a rogue tennis ball flies from the court and hits your ex square in the jaw, pulling a choked laugh from you

Your ex storms off and leaves you with Hoshi, who is looking at you quizzically.

“I-I guess I should explain, huh?”

“You don’t have to, I pretty much get it. Your, what, bi? Or pansexual?”

You nod at the first option, laying your head on Hoshi’s shoulder and smiling softly. “Yeah, bi. I’m sorry for not telling you but after him… i-i couldn’t.”

A quiet kiss on your forehead calms your worries as Hoshi turns back to the game, continuing his explanation of points to you.

[saureus]

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Motorcycle Accident Lawyer Boise Idaho Call 208 343 7510

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b71f_gySCzY

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Do I require a bike mischance lawyer, regardless of whether I have cruiser protection? 

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My wounds are not too genuine. Do despite everything I require a lawyer? 

Kurt: You won't not require a lawyer. The seriousness of your wounds is critical. In any case, accept preferred standpoint of free counsel from a lawyer. Get a free case assessment. Counsel with a lawyer to decide whether what you see as little wounds really may be something bigger. A great deal of times that underlying assessment of minor damage isn't right. I've seen a lot of times where there's been spinal string wounds that don't come to fruition until weeks after the crash on the grounds that a bone or a bit of a plate severs and effects a nerve in the neck or spinal section. At that point you unquestionably require a legal advisor. 

How would I pay my hospital expenses from the mishap while sitting tight for the claim to be settled? 

Kurt: This can be troublesome. When you acquire therapeutic costs, you have a commitment to pay them. In individual damage assert, the opposite side's not going to make it simple. They utilize those bills as weight on you to endeavor to make due with not as much as a case is worth. Coincidentally, there's a scope called restorative installments and it ventures up and pays the bills. No deductibles and for the most part there's a 5,000 or 10,000 restriction. You get that cash to help pay any break. The following committed payer is your medical coverage and that incorporates co-pays and deductibles. Eventually, it gets paid once again from the terrible person's insurance agency. Be that as it may, you need to pay in the meantime. 

Here and there we can work with suppliers to hold their bills, or to restrain their recuperation choices, and enable you to manage recouping and showing signs of improvement. This is one of the administrations individual damage legal counselors give. We work with the charging individuals to back them off, while we work with the general population who are to blame to recuperate cash. You don't have the cerebral pains and the bills, and that is one of the genuine administrations that an office like our own can give. 

What kinds of remuneration would i be able to want to get? 

Kurt: There are different kinds of pay. There's the cost of your therapeutic care and lost wages. It's somewhat harder for commission sales representatives and the independently employed to manage a lost wages issue. Be that as it may, we can manage it. Additionally, there's pay for the torment and enduring; manage being harmed and the problems for your family. Having the capacity to assess those misfortunes is one of the aptitudes accomplished superb individual damage attorney can do. Push ahead and put the damage circumstance behind you.

[criscura]

And here’s the second part!!! This one goes to @evartandadam with THIS BEAUTIFUL PICTURE. I’ve been staring at it for so LONG wondering if I’d ever be able to fit it in, and I could T~~T Please read the wonderful analysis under the pic too!!!

Here’s the first part of this guy, and the whole fic on AO3.

EDIT: Here’s the next part!

...There were more feels then intended @___@

And Ignite Your Bones

    Genos looked down at his deep blue robes, making the final adjustments to his obi while his teacher stood behind him doing the same. For a moment Sensei’s hands idled and wandered and slipped, and with a rustle of black silk they snaked around his belly.

    Lips pressed against Genos’ neck and he shivered. “Yes, Sensei?” he laughed, dipping his head forward.

    More kisses answered him first. “Nothin’.”

    “Nothing? All these cuddles are for nothing, then?”

    “…Is it weird?”

    “No…” He tilted his jaw to the side as an eager mouth pushed forward. “But…I’ve been getting many cuddles for nothing, lately.”

    “…I like this yukata on you.”

    “Mm.”

    Sensei hovered for a second. “I…like your belt, too.”

    “I assumed. You spent a while on it… What were you doing, Sensei?”

    “Eh…” You could hear the flush on his cheeks. “Just getting the knot right.”

    “’Right’?”

    “Well…” His fingers drifted back down to the obi to fiddle with the ends. “I wanted to make sure you could see the phoenix on it. There are some on the end, and last time I didn’t tie it so you could tell they were there…”

    “People still saw, Sensei.”

    His fingers froze. “O-oh? How…”

    Genos remembered the handful of comments on their matching yukata from the message boards. He was surprised there were not more, but it had popped up during a heated debate about whether or not he was truly in love with “that C-class loser.” Any enthusiasm he and Saitama’s supporters had about the robes was quashed under the many, many more fans that wanted nothing more than for the two of them to split and act like they never knew each other.

    …He did not need to mention that, though. “There were some pictures of us circulating from Tanabata. They noticed the designs, and had…theories on it.”

   Saitama wouldn’t look up. “What, uh…what kind of theories?”

    “The usual kind of rumors found in tabloids, Sensei,” he answered, holding his hero’s hand against his belly. They were not true, no, but the idea of them…it made him a little light-headed. “That we had gotten engaged, or that we had secretly gotten married, and this was our way of showing it.”

    Saitama was entirely still, and Genos almost scanned him to see that he was breathing.

    “…Sensei?”

    “Yeah,” he squeaked, “Yeah, wild. Ha. Haha. Crazy…”

    His disciple turned to check that he was alright. “Saitama-sensei?”

    “Married,” he scoffed, utterly failing to sound disdainful, “Totally…crazy. Fans sure come up with some weird stuff.”

    Genos spun to face him. “At least it’s a good rumor, Sensei.”

    This time he did check his vitals. Saitama’s heart was pounding. “…Y-yeah…”

    He nearly asked about it—he was opening his mouth to question him, but—

    “It’s quarter to three, shouldn’t we get going?”

    Genos studied his boyfriend’s bright red cheeks. “Of course…”

    “Great! Great. We’ll uh…we’ll take the train over, I think there’s one leaving kinda soon. We can stop at the station on the edge of City V, though, maybe walk over and see the shrine and all that. I think everyone is gonna be at the one in City A so it shouldn’t be too bad? But if it is, N is quiet…”

    Genos listened to Saitama chatter on, nervously hopping from one subject to the next, gathering wallets and phones and keys. He would not meet the cyborg’s eyes, but he was talking as fast as his pulse was racing, and…

   Rumors. Right. Yes. That’s all they were. Ridiculous…crazy rumors.

   Completely untrue.

   Lies.

   …pretty, pretty lies…that were making Genos even more light-headed the longer he thought about them.

    “You ready, kid?”

    The dragons burned gold against the black of Saitama’s yukata, caught just so in the midday sun, as vivid as the crimson in his ears and bright as the shine in his dark, dark eyes.

    “…Yes,” Genos said, knowing his answer was as far from a lie as was possible.

    “Cool. Here—take your bag. We can buy our tickets when we get to the station.”

    Saitama calmed as they walked, idle chatter leveling the same way his temperature and heart did. Eventually they reached the station on the outskirts of City Z and boarded with the same frustrating pomp as always. The HA was pushing the publicity of its most popular heroes in anticipation of the launch of the first round of assignments, and Genos could tell.

    Of course…choosing to make out with his teacher while dozens of new stations were recording probably didn��t help his anonymity.

   Ah, well. It was a great kiss.

    Sensei certainly didn’t seem to mind the gawkers as they rode over to City V. Every time they saw a shrine procession he would pat Genos’ arm and point, commenting on the shininess of one or the weight of another…

    Genos sighed happily. This is why he insisted they go. From the moment he met Saitama, festivals were one of the few things that would make him brighten this way, and there was nothing that would stop him from giving that to him. He was still angry he cut their first festival short by attacking the fireworks display… How could have been so stupid…

    “…I wonder if they’re gonna do the Nishimonai. They did it last year, but if they can’t train the dancers fast enough…” Saitama scratched the top of his head and laughed. “Those masks were a lifesaver once I started to lose my hair. Back when I worked the festivals, I mean. They always had me on ‘cause I knew the dances, but then when they needed me in them… Eugh. Kinda hard to hide your head when you’re on stage.”

    “I’m sure you looked wonderful, Sensei.”

    Saitama gave him a sad stare. “Nah, kid—this wasn’t ‘receding hairline’ bald, this was ‘huge spot right on the top of your head’ bald. It was so embarrassing… I kept on hoping it would grow back, though, so I didn’t shave until there was almost nothing left.”

    “When did you shave?”

    “Ah…” Saitama thought, looking at the ceiling. “I don’t really know. About two years into training? It got to the point where it was clear it wasn’t coming back, so I got a razor and took it all off.” He sighed. “My hair wasn’t nice, but I was sad to lose it.”

    Genos tried to imagine his boyfriend with hair. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen it—his picture on his ID was taken before his training—but… “…I like you as you are, Saitama-sensei.”

    That got him a flick to the chest. “You’d say that no matter what.”

    “It’s true though, Sensei. Your lack of hair makes you seem confident and strong.”

    Sensei huffed. “’Confident’? How does having a shiny head make me seem confident?”

    “You are comfortable enough with yourself to not try and cover it up. Many would.”

    “Hm… I don’t know about that. I’m just lazy.”

    Genos played with Saitama’s obi. “You’re gorgeous.”

    “Oh geeze… I’m just alright, kid…”

    “You are a great deal more that ‘ju—‘”

    “L-look over there! That’s gotta be one of City N’s shrines!”

    Genos inhaled the rant of praise threatening to burst out of him and leaned from the corner to see what Saitama was talking about.

    In minutes they were slowing to a stop at their station, and though the actual festival was several streets away they could hear the whistling and drumming of the procession while they walked to it.

    As soon as they passed a mask booth Genos bought one for his teacher and himself. He was happy to have something by way of disguise. He wouldn’t be wearing it fully, but every bit helped.

    Saitama readjusted the straps of his mask on his head. “I feel kinda bad leaving Anpanman back there.”

    “Why, Sensei?”

    “The guy lost all his hair and turned into a hero—he’s had to’ve deal with the same bullshit I do. Gotta stick together.”

    “Hmm… I could have been Shokupanman, then.”

    “…Who?”

    “The toast, Sensei.”

    “Oh! Oh yeah. Ha… I think these ones are good, though.”

    Genos eyed up the sickeningly sweet teddy bear Saitama was wearing. “They are quite…cute…”

    Sensei smirked at him from under the animal’s smile. “Too cute for you?”

    The plastic felt dangerously delicate under Genos’ hands as he tried to get it to lie correctly. His head was too big for the doe-eyed cat, regardless of how large its ears were. “It’s not…that… What they are does not matter, only that they work.” In which aspect his was failing.

    “…Yeah?”

    …Although perhaps it was a bit too...child-like, for Genos’ taste… “…Yes.”

    “You look really cute in it.”

    …And that was precisely what Genos was afraid of. “As you said when you picked it, Sensei…”

    “Yeah! It’s got your eyes, you had to have it.”

    Did he have to choose the one that was blushing? “If you say so, Saitama-sensei.”

   “Yup.”

    No matter. Far fewer fans came up to them asking for photos, so they fulfilled their intended purpose. Genos knew it made Saitama happy to see him have it too, so…he didn’t mind.

    …That much.

    “Kid…you look really cute as a cat.”

    Genos knew that tone. “Oh?”

    “We should get you ears.”

    “Oh, Sensei? To go with what?”

    The confidence drained from Sensei’s face. “Uh…you know…”

    “What, Sensei?” Genos leaned closer on the pretense of looking at a stuffed penguin that was hanging in a vendor’s stall. His voice was only loud enough for Saitama to hear. “My striped socks…? Or my lace stockings? Perhaps you would prefer one of my new dresses…”

    Their masks tapped against each other as his sensei sputtered, “W-well. Well…it would, uh… It would depend on…the ears…”

    “Hm… Yes, I suppose it would…” They ambled in the direction of the delicious, smoky smells coming from further down the street. “Then again…why would it be me, Sensei, who should wear the ears?”

    Sensei was making very good use of his teddy bear.

    “I am not the one that enjoys wearing a collar, after all…”

    “Would you shut it about that?” It was all in vain though. Genos didn’t need to see his teacher to know his cheeks would look like pickled cherries right now.

    “I am unsure what you mean. ‘Shut it’ about my very cute Sensei in his very cute collar wearing a very cute pair of ears, or how nicely you cry for me whe—“

    An enraged grunt cut him off, and in moments Saitama was stomping away.

    The boy called after him, laughing, finding him fuming at a dark storefront. “I apologize, Sensei,” he purred, trying his best to sound apologetic. It was a bit hard when he wasn’t.

    “You can’t talk about that stuff here,” he gritted. He was glaring at the windows as if they were the ones sweet-talking him into bed.

    “Why, Sensei? Because someone may hear?”

    The glare melted as the man looked up into Genos’ face, and…oh. How flustered he was did make him apologetic. “I mean sure, but…I can’t hide much in this outfit…”

    Laughter bubbled up from Genos’ stomach as he wrapped his hero up in his arms. “Sensei…I am sorry, truly…”

    “Yeah, yeah… Brat…”

    They slipped away from the store and turned onto the main square. Old songs were playing over equally old loudspeakers, mixing with the buzz of the crowd. The decorations were slim, lazy even compared to those that would have swept the neighborhoods of larger cities, but the lantern streamers and worn awnings held their own kind of charm. It was intimate and quaint in a way that almost made Genos uncomfortable. It left the impression that everyone knew everybody else—that there did not need to be any fronts because you were already accepted as a friend.

    Had Saitama not been there, Genos would have felt lost.

    “Though…”

    Genos looked over, curious. “Though?”

    “I guess…I mean…” A careful hand rubbed behind the mask. “Black ears would probably match it, right? And my hair too… Well, what’s left of it.”

    Genos��� vents puffed so much his robe fluttered. “Oh, Sensei? Should I be searching for a set to buy? It’s nothing I’ve researched, but I would gladly order a pair now if y—“

     The world became a field of black as the cat was pushed against his face. When it was lifted, he could see Sensei smiling up at him. “Cool it, horndog. We’ll figure it out later.”

    They decided to play a shooting game first, and then a fishing game, and Saitama was insistent they buy more sweetfish while they were there. They were stopped infrequently for photos, thankfully. The combination of twilight creeping over the city and general rush of excitement meant that few saw Genos’ metal hands or dark neck or bright yellow eyes.

    Dirt crunched beneath the cyborg’s feet as they approached the stage for the Bon dance. It was in the center of some sort of playing field, the area cleared and rearranged to make room for the circle of dancers around it. Again, they went on Saitama’s insistence—the drums began to beat and he nearly leapt as he turned around to find where they were coming from.

    He joined the circle immediately, hesitating for a moment to determine which dance they were doing. Genos watched as others watched him, saw them catch onto his movements just as happily as they caught his easy smile. He couldn’t fault them, he’d caught it too. It was impossible not to.

    It wasn’t a minute before he was waving Genos to come along, and he did.

    He wasn’t…the most graceful at this type of dancing. He always felt cramped, strained—he was highly aware that if he accidentally hit someone with a stray swipe of the hand, he would bruise them or worse. He kept himself in tow as long as the circle was tight with people, and it would only continue to grow tighter as the night went on. He kept close to his teacher and followed carefully.

    There was nothing reserved about the way Saitama moved. He stepped dramatically and clapped loud, laughing and smiling and singing along like it was second nature. On some level, perhaps it was. He’d gone to festivals frequently when he was young, Saitama had told him, and then for many summers when he grew to be of working age. They were as natural to him as were movie marathons in the winter and hot milk in the fall.

     Anyone near him could tell as well…particularly those that were short in stature. Several children had started to ghost behind him, trying to mimic his motions without getting his attention. They were not successful. In moments he had noticed them and began telling them that they point this way first, and then step hard like that, and scoop like they were holding a heavy shovel…

    Genos spun with the other dancers as his chest surged. He didn’t want to take his eyes off Saitama. He moved slowly forward as his sensei taught—as the children’s sensei taught—and…he was so beautiful. He looked so right, so at home here, the light from the lanterns covering him in a golden glow, and…as Genos spun again, as he waved his hands as Sensei had showed him, he…

    …He was a few feet away, but…he felt so far. Rooted, and comfortable, and far away. He looked as happy here as he did when they were at home—happier, nearly—and though he knew it was absurd Genos could not kick the thought that if he stepped any further Saitama would not catch up and—

    He took his leave quietly. Weaving through the crowd was simple enough, although he did bump into a fair amount of people.

   He tracked the circle while it moved, breath hitching at the realization of how quickly he’d lost Sensei in it. He was there, though. He hadn’t gone anywhere, he wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t see him, no, but…he was still there. Of course he was.

    Despite that…his core was whining furiously and he could see its electric blue reflecting off his mask. His adrenaline was spiking, his ignitors were compressing and heating, his targeting system zooming across his interface in an attempt to identify the threat. There was no threat, though. He was safe. There was no reason…for…

    …Ah. Genos sunk against the port-a-potty behind him, closing his eyes to the world and sighing. He took a moment to take account of his body, another to inhale slow, a third to exhale the same way. And again, inhale, hold…exhale, hold… He needed to calm himself down. More importantly he needed to calm his systems down.

    There was no threat, because this was a panic attack.

    He glared at the darkening sky above him. A panic attack. Because of a festival. How fucking pathetic. Children were running around unattended, laughing without a care in the world, and he couldn’t walk more than three steps away from his boyfriend before he quite literally began to implode.

    It was alright. He could recover. Deep breathing, place yourself, like he did when he was younger. Focus on the drumming, focus on the damp dirt compressing under his weight. Feel it press through the tabi, the light vibrations rushing through the ground, steady, predictable, unshakable—dom, dom, dom, dom…

    God damnit! He ripped off the mask and crushed it as he snarled, furious at how little control he had over himself.

    Genos grit back tears, refusing to fall apart like this. He was an adult for shit’s sake, he would not cry because he was left alone. He was fine. He was fine. He was not going to ruin today with another breakdown. He was fine. He wa—

    “Kid?”

    His eyes flew open to see Sensei beside him. He knew immediately it was the wrong thing to do.

    “Oh—oh, I’m… What, uh… You alright?”

    “I am fine.”

    …How convincing.

    Saitama studied him, slipping the bear from his head. “…You wanna go sit on the hill and wait for the fireworks? We can get a good spot.”

    Genos knew what he meant. He tried to say “Yes, Sensei,” but a sob gurgled up in his throat and the most dignified thing he could muster was nod.

    The walk was slow, there was no rush. The show would not be starting for another hour.

     Sensei took his hand as they walked, talking about small things. He filled the silence, but he did not try to drown it, and Genos appreciated it.

    They were on top of a low hill overlooking a calm river, one that was brimming with floating lanterns lit in honor of those who had passed. They were beautiful, and…it hurt to look at them. Genos wouldn’t let himself watch.

    Sensei sat and his disciple followed. After a moment he tossed the masks to the side, patted the ground, and eased onto it. “Lay down, kid.”

    He did. The grass was soft, and the small white flowers around him teasingly fragrant.

    His teacher ran his fingertips across them before he talked again. “Is that why you left the circle?”

   The blonde nodded.

   “…I’m sorry.”

   “What?” Genos turned to look him in the eye. “Why, Sensei?”

   Saitama plucked a flower without meaning to, and put it to the ground. He did it again, and again. “You’re here for me, right?”

    “I…No, Sensei. I enjoy it as well.”

    He could tell Saitama was holding back a laugh. “You saying that and looking like you’re gonna cry at the same time…”

    Genos tore his gaze away, scowling viciously at the dirt. “I am not crying.”

    “I didn’t say that…”

    Genos listened to himself, and crumpled into the ground, and took a deep breath. “I wish I could get past this, Sensei.”

     “You will…at least a little. Eventually.”

    Old dew smeared across his metal fingers as he pulled a flower from its bed. “I’ve had more than enough time.”

    “…It’s not that easy…”

     “Yes it is,” he urged, crushing a petal without meaning to. He dropped the ruined bud and took another. “I’ve had every advantage—I’ve had therapy, support, distractions, time, time, so much time Sensei—“ The silk of his kimono hissed as he curled tighter into himself. “I’m almost twenty-two. I’ve had close to a decade to cope. A decade. And I can’t get through a fucking holiday without crying like a child.”

    Saitama was quiet for a long while. Genos could hear the roots ripping as he tugged at them, one after another after another.

     Then his hair was being pushed back, and a small bundle was being tucked behind it. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

    Bullshit. “I’m not.”

     “You are.” Soft fingers pushed his chin up and Genos shivered as they fell to his earlobe, carefully wrapping a stem around its stud. “You say it’s ten years, but…weren’t you fourteen when it happened? And you’re twenty-one now. That’s only seven.” The touch trickled down his neck and beneath his collar, and began to drag back up. “You spent those first few years hunting it down. You never really…gave yourself the chance to get past it.”

    It felt so good… So good, and soothing, and—and Genos couldn’t— “I did…”

    Saitama was quiet for a long time. He didn’t stop rubbing the boy’s neck, though, and the slow drag of his hand, his silence, the steady thrumming drifting below…

    It bled into him like an anesthetic and Genos unraveled under it.

   When the white flowers under the cyborg’s cheek turned black, Sensei talked, telling him that, “It’s okay to cry. It’s alright… You’re alright, now.”

    “I’m a grown man,” he seethed, sick of the smell of oil.

    “Yeah…and grown men cry too.”

    “I don’t want to cry anymore…”

    Sensei laid his head down beside his student’s. He was all Genos could see. “You’re human, kid. You cry. That’s part of it.”

    “I don’t want it…”

    Saitama pooled him into his arms, and they did not say anything for a while.

    When one of them finally did speak, it was his sensei. “You look pretty with those flowers.”

    Genos’ sigh was long and uneven. It wasn’t unhappy, though. “Saitama…”

    “I saw a bunch of girls wearing them in their hair before. It’s nice.”

    A few couples and families had started to dot the grass below them. Genos liked that they were so far from them. It felt safer, that way. “It’s a current fashion trend.”

    “Oh. Well…” Genos rolled onto his back as Saitama hefted up. “It’s nice.” He took another handful of white, tucking them all along the blonde’s curls.

    He had to laugh. “Do you intend on filling my entire head with them, Sensei?”

    “Nah,” he answered, “I don’t think…”

    He didn’t stop though, and Genos did not ask him to, the same way he did not ask Genos to stop staring at him. It was silly, yes, but simply watching his teacher…it made him feel better. Saitama was an absolute, a constant. He would be there when everything else had toppled. He had idolized that when he first saw the man, and he thought it was because he wanted to become like him, but…

    In a way, he did still want that for himself. He wanted to be stronger, he wanted to stand on his own two feet. He despised how easy it was for him to fall to pieces at the slightest provocation, and he needed to be able to be there for others, for Saitama, the way they had been there for him. But…

    …It was that—Saitama being there for him. It was this even, exactly this that was happening right now. It wasn’t merely strength that Genos wanted. It would feel cold if that was all there was, like reaching the top of a mountain and having no one to celebrate with. No, so long as Saitama was there…

   Saitama pushed the loose collar down Genos’ shoulder and placed a flower between his joints. Tilting his head to appreciate it, he said, “Pretty.”

   The cyborg tried to see it, and—yes, there it was. The outline of a miniscule flower against the reflections of light in his armor.

    “Was my hair not enough?”

    There was a soft ripping noise as Saitama pulled several more flowers from around them. With rosy cheeks he asked, “Could you sit up for a sec?”

    Genos complied. A shower of petals fell from his head, as expected. Saitama frowned as he slid his sleeve down his arm.

    “Sensei…?”

    He wove more flowers into it, tucking them in the seams of Genos’ armor, behind edges of plates, along the rim of his joints. Once Saitama had made his way down most of his arm he told Genos to “Look, look at how cool.”

    “Cool” perhaps was not what Genos would call it, but…it was interesting. The buds were wedged tightly enough that they would stay in place so long as Genos moved slowly. They were very pretty though, Saitama was right on that account.

    “Ha…You’re like a whole planet.”

    Genos lifted an eyebrow at him.

    “Well—yeah, you know—“ Sensei touched the center of his chest plate. “Here, you’ve got a sun, and then here’s all the trees that grow from it,” he finished, pointing to the veins of white tracing his armor. “…Eh, that’s stupid. Nevermind.”

     Said sun started flaring considerably. “No… No Sensei, that’s…beautiful…”

    “Oh… Good.” He inched closer to tuck some of the leftover flowers into the panels on his chest. Genos robe fell from his other shoulder as he did it, and he would have been more self-conscious if any of the rest of the crowd had walked as far as they did.

    They were still on their own, though, and Genos was happy for it. Sensei’s touch was even more delicate than it had been when he turned his arm into a garden. He did not mind giving him more to fill.

    “You’re kinda…in another way, too…”

     Genos waited for him to continue, but a slew of half-starts followed. “Kind of what, Sensei?”

     The lanterns glowed in Saitama’s eyes as he came up with an answer. His flush was obvious despite the dark. “You’re…really gorgeous,” he mumbled. “That’s…all…”

     There was an announcement over the loud speakers, and a warning rocket flew from the dock on the other side of the river. They both watched it as it soared and popped.

    Saitama looked back first. “…Yeah.”

    Genos laid them both back down, slipping his hand from his second sleeve when his sensei began to rub along it. It wasn’t long before the sky was filled with a rainbow of starbursts. The ground shook with the intensity of their explosions, and the flickering boxes bobbing down the river were dwarfed by their nebulas of light.

     Genos…had never lit one of those lanterns either. He did not know what to write on them. That he loved his family, that he missed them? That would change nothing. He could apologize, but the idea of leaving something so disappointing for them to read…no. They deserved better than that. Promises kept, evil vanquished. The removal of true terror so that their deaths could not be in vain. That’s what they deserved…

     Not…a metal son, one with all the wrong kinds of blood on his hands. What kind of message could he leave them…?

    There was a tap on his shoulder. “Don’t miss them, look!”

    He did. They were so bright…they were astounding. Sensei hugged him close and whispered into his ear, explaining over the booms how excited he got the time they asked him to light the batch for the finale, and…

     For a very small second Genos closed his eyes to listen. He didn’t want to miss this—he wouldn’t—but…for now, just for now, he would sit and listen, and appreciate, and memorize…

     A boom came from behind them, like a second show was about to begin further down the hill. He pulled Sensei up to look but before he could stand there was an incredible flash of white.

     He…he was aware, intensely aware, of the silk burning in the heat and the smell of burnt flowers, burnt hair.

    He felt his armor sizzle and bend and peel until it too was burnt, burnt, burning—

    In the moment he had to understand what had happened, he recognized a man half-bubbled into a giant target, screaming “Demon Cyborg” and “revenge.” It was only a moment, though, because he burst into a splatter of fire, and Genos was somehow…on the ground.

    Awkwardly.

    And he could not get up, because…

    “Genos? Genos oh my god are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t see him soon enough, he was so—Genos, are you alright?”

     Sensei—Sensei was holding him. He must have been, but his hands were coming through him…

    Genos sighed. He sighed deeply, and he sighed hard, and when he exhaled he could feel his breath being tugged into the holes in his neck.

    “I ah fhine…”

    …Having half your lips made it difficult to talk.

    He scoffed to himself, realization settling in with the flood of warning messages that were pouring into his vision. A metal son, in a metal body, without the strength to stand on his own two feet…because they had been blown off.

    Saitama was rambling on, saying they needed to get to Kuseno’s, asking for his cell phone, asking how to get there, asking what he could do to help, apologizing, begging, panicking…

    He was fine. He’d told him so.

    Just…fine.

    He had less than half a body and that was fine.

    He sighed again as he double-checked that the drones were on their way. They were. He told Sensei so, and he did not calm much.

    …Genos was tired. He curled his head into Sensei’s chest (bare—had his yukata burned?) and noticed with seething disappointment that he felt it directly on cold steel.

    It had been so long since he was destroyed this way. He’d…had this body, for so long.

    …He’d done so much with this body…

    And now it was gone too.

    Genos clenched his eyes shut and let the fireworks drown out the world, refusing to listen to the core throbbing painfully fast behind what was left of his armor. He had said he was sick of crying, and that was true. He didn’t want to cry anymore.

    So…he wouldn’t. For now…just for now…

    He would sit, and be silent.

~~~

    Oh god oh god oh god—oh—god—

    “Genos? Are you alright? You’re—you’re still there, right? He didn’t—I got him as fast as I could—“

    He was fine, right? He’d been talking and his head was in one piece—was his chest okay? His plating was gone, was his core—

    Oh god what if it got his core—

    “I need to call, Genos, what’s—I think I have my cell phone, what’s Kuseno, I have to call him—“

    He was just laying there quiet—why was he so quiet?—but okay, okay the core was glowing, it was working, but—would it brighter if he was hurt? Would it get darker? Saitama’d seen it get dark when he was tired, sometimes when he was hurt—was it darker at all? It didn’t seem like it was…

    Holy shit that thing was fast! It was a boom, and then light, and then Genos was right in front of him, melting away, shredding like he was made of paper—

    Saitama held him closer. It was only a second! It was half a second! And it burned off an arm, a leg, so much of his body, his face…

    He wished he’d look at him, he wanted to make sure his wires were alright. They couldn’t backfire and shock him, right? Right, no, Kuseno would plan for that, he’d…he’d designed him to keep him safe…

    Okay. Okay he had to calm down. He’d seen Genos like this before. He’d seen him way worse than this and he’d always come back spick and span, and fine, and safe…

    He could hear himself babbling. He had to shut up, he was saying nonsense, and it couldn’t’ve been helping Genos feel better. Genos—he had things that picked him up and brought him to the lab. Saitama would ride on them with him over. He didn’t fucking care if that made Kuseno mad, he was going and that was that.

    …Wait would he be too heavy? Genos was, well, he was heavy, but what if Saitama’s weight was too much? Maybe since so much of his was gone they could hold him too—

    “What happened?” came crying from the distance.

    People—and police?—were climbing up to them. “A monster! It’s gone, I got it, but…I think he’s okay…”

    An officer shined a light at them. Saitama realized too late his robe was at his feet. The top burned off…

    “Oh hell—don’t move, don’t get up! We’re calling an ambulance for you two right now…”

    “No, you don’t have to!“

    More people were coming. The rest of the festival goers were staring up at the hill to see what was going on. A group of school kids snuck up close and sniggered away.

    Saitama swore, if he hadn’t just punched that damned monster he would go and do it again, and do it harder, and he’d make sure it fucking hurt.

    Some woman from the staff was walking up to them. “What was that?”

    Saitama crouched to spare the lady from needing to see his junk. He watched Genos as he did it, careful not to bunch what was left of his leg… “A monster. It came up and—and exploded, I think, but… It doesn’t matter, I punched it so it’s gone—“

    “You…what?”

    “I killed it, it’s gone, it doesn’t matter, I’m waiting for his—his robot things to come pick him up—“

    She was calling out to some guy for extra uniforms, but Saitama wasn’t listening. The kid was sighing—frick was it awful hearing the wind come out of him like that—and looking up at his teacher.

    He tried to say “They are coming,” but with his mouth practically gone and his voice all glitchy he could barely hear it.

    …He looked so tired. He only had a third of his face and he still looked so tired.

    “I’m coming with you,” Saitama told him. Fear passed through his eyes—it was clearer on the one with skin, but even on the one that was pure metal it was obvious—and then he nodded, and huddled closer.

    Saitama rubbed what little hair he had left as they waited.

    Flowers fell out of it.

~~~

    He’d lost track of how many times he’d paced through the lab by this point—every room, every hallway, past each closet and elevator and corkboard. Kuseno told him it would take a while and that he needed to leave. He begged, he begged to stay in the room, to wait it out, wait for the kid to open his eyes and glare and huff and do whatever he knew he’d do when he saw Saitama was there, just as long as he got to see he was alright, but…it was a no-go. The doc told him that if he was going to concentrate Saitama had to leave, and to try and get some sleep.

    Ha. Sleep. Like that was going to happen.

    There were clocks posted all over the place, so Saitama was painfully aware that it was 12:47 and he’d been there for more than two and a half hours. Two and a half. That was sixty, one-twenty, a hundred and fifty minutes of wandering around this giant-ass lab worried that his boyfriend wasn’t going to wake up.

    Which he was, that was stupid. He was going to get up. Kuseno would give him a new body, and his brain would be fine, and his core would be fine, and they’d go home and eat udon or some shit the same way he had the other times he got wrecked.

    Everything was going to be okay.

    …Saitama turned a long corner. The lights flashed on in his wake.

    They weren’t okay now, though. They weren’t okay at all. He’d let Genos get hurt. It wasn’t his fault, he knew that, he’d taken the monster out as soon as he figured out what it was, but—

    …That didn’t make him feel better. That made him feel worse.

    Another light flashed on and he realized he was by Genos’ room again. He looked at the door, thought about it, and kept on walking through the halls. If he sat down…he didn’t know what would happen, he couldn’t handle being in one spot right now. If he could he’d be sprinting through the joint, but he didn’t know how well the walls could hold up to the wind, and if he blew stuff out of place he’d probably fuck up some major experiment and make a lot of people’s lives harder…

    Speed-walk, that’s what he could do. Move as fast as he could, through anywhere he could find, distracting himself as much as was possible. He’d read through some long-ass sign-up sheet on one of the message boards and the results from an experiment that were on another. He leafed through the endless magazines that were filling up Kuseno’s kitchen table. He opened the refrigerator about fifty times. He wasn’t even hungry, he just—

    He needed something to do with his hands. He wanted to hold something, punch something, climb a wall. He’d be ripping his hair out if he had any left, and as it was he thought he was gonna go straight through his skin with the way he kept on scratching the back of his head. He already managed to tear up the sleeves of the robe that staff lady gave him—they were getting shorter and shorter the longer he waited because he couldn’t stop from fiddling with them.

    “Augh!” he shouted, clawing at his skull. His voice echoed back raw and angry.

    Why was he so anxious? He’d done this before! He’d seen this before! Well, not—not this exactly, it was his first time riding back on that weird-ass drone with the kid (that was an affair), but…Genos getting messed up. He’d done it already. He’d been doing it for years. He was never this nervous about it.

    …Then again…it had been a while since he got this hurt, and seeing Genos in pieces always screwed with him. Normally he was so big and confident and solid-looking, and the way he would move it was easy to forget he was metal all the way through, but then he’d get busted up and…

    He’d remember. There wasn’t bone or muscle or anything there—it was all wires and gears. Saitama’d come close to death plenty of times when he was training, but he healed and got stronger. Wires and gears…those don’t grow. They can’t heal, they break and you have to fix them. Saitama knew how to set a busted finger. He had no idea how to patch up a ball joint.

    Pages rustled behind him as he swept around another dark corner, the light not flashing on until he was already halfway down it.

    The only part of Genos he had a chance of helping was his brain, and…fuck, brains were so fragile. You have a bad fall, a bad hit, and you can forget how to move, how to talk, who you are—

    He forced himself to slow down when the passed through the kitchen again. He was freaking himself out. Genos was okay, he wasn’t gonna fall into a friggin’ coma because of fighting. If anything bad like that was going to happen, it would’ve happened by now. Kuseno was a genius, he’d figured this out. Genos was okay.

    Saitama made a left, made a right, went forward. Darkness hopped up behind him as lights flickered off but he didn’t look up from the smooth gray floors. It wasn’t until he noticed he was at Genos’ room again that he did.

    He stopped and sized it up.

    Calm down. Maybe he should be sitting, because he needed to calm down. Practically running around the building was making it worse.

    Saitama turned the handle and walked in. He got why Kuseno shooed him out of the lab, he was a wreck…

    He flipped the light on and scanned the room. Genos had tidied before they left, putting Hero and his not-so-secret stash (Saitama still couldn’t process that people wanted porn of him) back into the closet, so it was as neat as it was when he first stumbled into it. Journals stacked up, bags in organized mounds…

    He breathed in deep to get his heart to stop pounding. He could barely make out Genos’ smell—smoke and oil and an electric twang, all with a backbone of something husky Saitama was never able to place—and it was so…nice. It was soothing. He took another long breath and wandered towards the journals, reminding himself to take it easy.

    The sheer amount of journals would always amaze Saitama. There were so many piles and they all came above his waist. The thought of Genos writing those by hand, almost entirely about him…

    He pulled away so he wouldn’t be tempted to look inside them. The kid kept on telling him he could read his notebooks, but it felt wrong to do it, especially when he wasn’t around. They seemed so private to Saitama. If Genos wanted him to know something, he’d tell him. Anything else…well, that was his business, wasn’t it? Yeah.

    He walked over to the desk, stared at it, and turned around. He walked over to the closet, stared at it, and turned around.

    He saw the charred and dirty blanket on the floor, stared at it, and…picked it up.

    It was the one they slept on last time. The tear stains from his nightmare were the darkest of the bunch, the rest faded and sunk into the fabric. There were also fresh burn marks from when they’d…uh…

    The blood pooled into Saitama’s cheeks and he hugged the blanket to his chest. It was fine with their futon at home, but seeing the outline of Genos’ vents on his blanket here was somehow way dirtier. When he pressed it close he got an overwhelming whiff of Genos’ scent, and it wasn’t without a good amount of shame that Saitama dug his nose into it.

    The smell of it, so entirely him… It gave him chills.

    …Ugh. This was stupid. He was acting so stupid! He had no reason to be this worked up! Saitama sighed and sat against the wall, pleading with his stomach to stop slithering its way into his throat. Everything was going to be okay. Kuseno was taking care of him—Genos was in safe hands.

    He looked into the dark folds of the blanket clutched against him. Genos was in…safe hands. The safest ones possible.

    …And they weren’t Saitama’s.

    His fists clenched around the fabric and he admitted he was losing the fight with his stomach. Those fists had taken down armies of monsters, meteorites, changed weather patterns. With them he could wring out laundry and cook udon and clear out sales. He’d touched the moon with those hands. Every morning and every night, and so many time between, he held Genos…in those hands…

    But when he was in pieces, needing help, getting ready to die…

   …His hands could do jack shit.

    He’d felt so fucking helpless when he was looking at him at the festival. He was so crushed, so broken down—he couldn’t even talk to him—and Saitama... He couldn’t do anything. He had no idea what to look out for, where to start…

     Sure, Kuseno was helping him. Sure he called the drones…but if he hadn’t. If something went really wrong…

    If Kuseno hadn’t been around, then…

    Saitama slid further down the wall, trying to quiet his thoughts, trying to make his mind go blank before it got more out of control.

    His head thumped against the molding and he could not wipe the image of Genos’ body shredding in the fire.

    It wasn’t working, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, because…because if he reacted half-a-second too late… If he’d missed his punch, or if the monster was quieter, or if Genos had stepped closer to it—

    He wouldn’t have been able to save him.

    That was that. He couldn’t sugar-coat it. Had anything other than what happened, happened, Saitama would have lost him.

    He kept the blanket close and rolled on his side, curling up around it. He felt like he was hiding from something, but…there was nothing to hide from, not in here. Nothing but the journals, and the collectibles, and the records…

    …and Saitama’s useless fucking self.

    What was he going to do? He wanted to take care of Genos. He wanted to be with him forever. Fuck, fuck, he’d found someone he loved, who loved him, and he wanted to make him safe, and happy, and give him everything he could ever dream of, but—he was coming up short, he didn’t know how to—

    …Saitama was scared.

    He thought back over all the times Genos got hurt, desperate for anything that would prove him wrong. He carried him places when he couldn’t move… He helped find missing pieces, he’d hold tools when he was repairing himself… He could be there before he got help and stick around when he was recovering, but in the end…

    He didn’t do jack shit. It was either Genos who fixed himself, or else it was Kuseno.

    Saitama listened to the heavy quiet in the room, missing his cyborg’s constant hum so bad it ached.

    Kuseno… Kuseno was old. He had to be close to his seventies by now, if he wasn’t already there. It was a miracle he could work as hard as he did. When he was in his eighties, Genos would be in his mid-thirties. By the time the kid got to forty, Kuseno would be ninety-something, if—

    Saitama’s heart beat loud behind the blanket. Genos said that stupid flirty lady was gonna look after him. There was a person who could fix him after the doc. He wouldn’t be left with no one when the old man died. There would always be someone to help.

    …But even so…Kuseno built him, at least his body. The guy was so smart it was a little scary. He’d know things other people didn’t. Saitama was nowhere close to being that smart, but he knew there were some things you just can’t teach and Genos was so complicated… Besides, what if that woman got hurt? Did they have a back-up for her? Yeah, monster attacks had simmered down, but people died all the time from them. Not everyone was as lucky as Saitama—they could still be killed from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Ice swept through Saitama’s insides.

    Everyone else…could still be killed. They could die. Everyone, but…

    He buried his head into the blanket and shut his eyes tight, refusing to admit how badly they were burning. He needed to calm down.

    He repeated that to himself for the next minute, half hour, hours. He lost count of how many times he’d said it, doing what he could to stop his head from going all the places he tried so hard not to go.

    He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he got woken up by the door creaking open.

    “Saitama?”

    The doctor was peeking in. The bags under his eyes were massive.

    “D-doc…” He shuffled up, untangling the blanket from his arms. “He okay?”

    Kuseno nodded. “He is. We’re done for today, he’s sleeping now. There’s nothing to worry about.”

    Saitama let out a long breath, the tension leaking from his shoulders with a shiver. A second, deeper one followed it when he noticed how chilly it was.

    “I apologize, I have to keep the lab a little cold in the summer to protect the equipment.” He pointed to the dressers. “There should be some spare sweaters in those drawers over there. I know Genos wouldn’t mind.”

    That was Saitama’s signal to get up, or to respond, or to do anything, but…all he did was stare back…

    The doc smiled. “Why don’t you grab one and join me for coffee in the kitchen? I could use the company while I unwind.”

    Saitama nodded. Right. Coffee.

    He rummaged for the most beat-up sweatshirt he could find and plodded into the kitchen. Kuseno had turned off most of the lights in the room, leaving an old yellow one above the sink. It was a lot less harsh on the eyes that way…made it feel homier too.

    Kuseno was at the counter waiting for the brewer to stop dripping. “Do you like your coffee sweet or unsweet?”

    Normally he liked stuff on the bitter side, but he remembered how strong it was last time… “Sweet, please,” he asked, sitting at the table.

    “That’s Genos too…though I’m sure you don’t mean that sweet. I think he could eat a cup of sugar if you gave it to him.”

    Saitama laughed. “Yeah… Not that he’ll admit it.”

    The cup was hot when Kuseno brought it over. Saitama thanked him and took a sip.

    …Still way too strong.

    The doctor drank it without a problem, though. “So it was a bomb monster?”

    “I guess,” Saitama answered, hunched over in his seat. The steam felt good on his cheeks. “I couldn’t tell. There was this big white light, and then an explosion… I don’t know. I punched it right away.”

    “It’s good you acted as quickly as you did. Genos is lucky you were there.”

    Saitama wouldn’t answer.

    “…He will be okay, Saitama. There was no major damage.”

    Kuseno sounded like the kid. ‘No major damage’ his ass, Genos could barely fucking move afterwards. “That’s good.”

    “…You may put the cup down if you would like.”

    Why was he…

    Aw crap he was holding too hard—

    “Sorry!” Saitama cried, plopping the cup on the table before he left more cracks in it. He didn’t shatter it, but… “Sorry,” he grumbled, putting his head in his hands. He was so worn out…

    “Saitama…is something else bothering you?”

    He wanted to say “no.” He wanted to down the coffee, chuck the cup in the trash, and go find Genos so he could hold him until he woke up. He wanted to ignore it all and just be happy that nothing worse happened. But…

    Instead he kept his head in his hands and shrugged. It wasn’t worth coming up with an excuse, it wouldn’t be convincing. Saitama was a terrible liar.

    “I am here to talk. If you’d like to.” The old man’s feet swiveled over the tile as he shifted in his seat. “From the couple of times I’ve met you, and from what Genos has said of you, you seem to be very collected. If something is bothering you this much, it must be important.”

    It was. It was so important.

    “It’s…Genos.”

    “What about him?”

    Saitama put his chin against his fists. He couldn’t look at the doctor. “…I’m worried about him.”

    “Is it because of tonight? I promise that he’s alright.”

    Saitama shook his head. “No…” He let the silence hang, searching for the right words. “I’m… I’m worried about…”

    …They weren’t gonna come. All he could manage was a weak, “I can’t take care of him.”

    It was taking the doc forever to answer. He chanced a glance at him, and…what did that face mean?

    “Saitama… I’ve been looking after that boy for a while now. It isn’t…easy. He makes it rather hard, to be honest.” He put a hand on one of the magazines and folded the edge as he went on. “And I don’t mean upkeep on his body. Worrying about him, and keeping him safe… It’s difficult.”

    Saitama nodded. That was for sure.

    “…Perhaps I should not mention this, but Genos… He was in a bad way before. I believe I’ve told you that.” He rocked back and folded his hands over his knees. “It was, ah… It was a very bad way. He was angry at the world. He wanted to fight everyone around him, and when no one was nearby, he would take it out on himself…”

    Saitama had seen that. For the first year or so of him having moved in, when they’d spar Genos would be furious. And the way he’d look at his teacher… It didn’t felt like he was seeing what was in front of him. It was pure rage.

    “…I worried about him too, so much so that I would not leave him unsupervised some weeks. I was nervous that if I did, he might…hurt himself…”

    Saitama’s eyes widened when what he meant clicked.

    “He was so young. He’d lost everything so fast, I understood why he was mad, but…” Kuseno tapped his fingers together. “I didn’t like nannying him like that. He’d come close on several occasions though, and I wouldn’t let that happen.”

    His belly dropped. So…Genos almost…

    Wait. Wait. The kid tried to off himself, and he—“Why did you give him a self-destruct then?”

    Kuseno nodded, like he expected the anger. “I didn’t give it to him initially. He found ways to trigger it.”

    Saitama faltered. “…You couldn’t stop it? You made his body—can’t you block something like that?”

    “I tried, many times. You know how intelligent Genos is. He found ways around it.”

    Dim light reflected off the dirt-smeared floor, too bright in Saitama’s tired eyes. “Many times”… So that meant he’d really…wanted to…

    “Giving him the feature as it exists now is a fail-safe. Once it’s activated, his core becomes a miniature nuclear bomb. If he isn’t in a secluded area he could easily wipe out a small city.”

    Saitama gaped.

    “I know,” Kuseno laughed. “That seems…excessive. I don’t like it either. But it’s a line of code isolated to Genos’ system and protected by dozens of firewalls, and he has total control over it. Even I couldn’t activate it if I tried. It’s safe in that regard.”

    Saitama was glad he put the cup down, because he could feel the throb start up in his head. Safe? There was nothing safe about that! He turned Genos into a bomb!

   “It was the only way I could think to make him reconsider it. Genos did not care much for his own life, but he cared immensely about saving others.” The doctor smiled, deep and honest. “That is not so now. He still wants to rescue whoever he can, I don’t think that will change, but…he’s appreciative of the life he has, and I know it’s because of you. I certainly couldn’t make him see it.”

    Color came back to the white in Saitama’s knuckles as his fists uncurled. “I… I don’t know what to say…”

    “You don’t have to say anything. It’s merely what has happened. I wanted to let you know, though, because…there’s different ways to take care of people, Saitama.”

    “…What?”

    Kuseno took a swig from his coffee. “You said you couldn’t take care of him, yes? But you do. You’ve taken care of him better than I ever could.”

    The hero scoffed. “By bringing him back in pieces to you?”

    “It’s not about that. You make him happy, my boy.”

    Happy… Sure, he could make him laugh and smile and all that, but…he remembered how heartbroken he looked shattered in his arms… How livid he was when he got his reevaluation from the HA… How tired he was, all the time, how stressed out and busy and—

    “I’m a piece of shit.”

    Kuseno looked genuinely shocked. “Oh?”

    “I��m a piece of shit,” he repeated, glaring at his grass-stained hands. “I can make him happy sometimes, sure, but…but I can’t keep him safe. I can’t fix him like you can, Doc. I can’t…I can’t make him not hurt when he’s hurt, I can’t even stop him from getting hurt. I’m the strongest guy alive—the fastest, the best, however you want to fuckin’ say it, and I can’t stop the person I care about the most from getting beat up—“

    Kuseno tried to interrupt, but no, that was it, he couldn’t shut up—

    “I try. I fucking try but it’s so hard, I can’t follow him wherever he goes, and every time he leaves for a mission I think I’m gonna have a heart attack because I’m so scared he’s not going to come back, and when I am there I’m too much of a frickin’ idiot to help him at all, so I just have to hold him wondering if he’s gonna get up or if he’s gonna die and not be able to do anything either way—“

    “Saitama—“

    “And then when he is home and safe and not in pieces he’s so worried about work I can’t get him to relax, and it’s my fault, I know it is, I can’t bring in money like he does so he’s fucking stuck there, where they use him like a goddamned welcome mat and I can’t even do anything to stop it because my reputation is such shit they laugh me out the doors whenever I w-walk in—“

    He felt the tightness in his throat, but his mouth wouldn’t stop—

    “And I hate it! I hate that people lump him in with me, that people send him-m hate mail because of me, he—he shouldn’t even be with me, I’m a loser, but he sta-ay-ays, and fuck, fuck I’m so happy he’s there—“ He inhaled rough— “I love him, I l-love him so damned much, I want—I want to be w-with him forever, b-but—“

    His cheeks were wet, his hands were wet, he could feel the burning in his eyes and the dripping from his nose and this was so fucking embarrassing but it was like a pump was turned on and he couldn’t turn it off—

    “W-what if my forever is ah-actually forever, w-what if I h-hurt him because my body is fffucked up a-and I can’t h-help him-m—m—!“

    His voice cut out into hiccups and sobs and he tried to process the clear tears falling onto his palms.

    …He didn’t remember what they felt like when they weren’t made of oil.

    “I’m-m s-sorry-y…”

    At first, the only sound was his broken voice echoing around the room, and he hated it.

    “It is alright. You don’t need to say sorry.”

    It was a long time before he could take a breath, and longer than that until he could talk again. The doctor had pulled out a bundle of paper towels from his jacket and Saitama had his face shoved into them. They were soaked and reeked of something he probably shouldn’t be inhaling, but he didn’t care.

    “…Sorry,” he croaked, rubbing his nose dry. “This is…stupid…”

    “It’s not stupid. You’re human, Saitama. Sometimes you have to cry.”

    He hesitated for a second, wanting to fight him on it, but…he laughed instead. He couldn’t argue that when he’d pretty much said the same thing himself. “I guess…”

    Kuseno let him sniffle for a few more minutes before starting again. “You have been thinking about this for a while, then.”

    He nodded. He didn’t know how long, but…it felt like a real long time…

    “And…when you say ‘forever’…”

    Saitama froze mid-wipe and looked up.

    Kuseno was staring back. “Do you mean that as in…marriage?”

    If Saitama thought he knew what “deer in the headlights” felt like, he was so incredibly wrong. It took him a good ten seconds before he could loosen his neck enough to bob his head.

    “…Does Genos know?”

    He shook it in about five seconds that time. A little bit better.

    The doc gave one of the warmest, happiest smiles Saitama had seen in a long time. “I see...” It broke out into a grin, and then a hearty chuckle, and he leaned back into his chair. “I see why you’ve been worried about taking care of him. …Goodness, he will be so happy!”

    He was glad the old man was taking it so well… “I hope…”

    “I know,” Kuseno pushed. “I think he already sees himself as a husband of sorts. Before you two were together, I’m fairly certain he’d decided to fill that role.”

    “Yeah… That’s right, isn’t it…” What with the apron, and the cooking, and the cleaning, and the doting…

    For the umpteenth time Saitama wondered how he managed to miss the massive crush Genos had on him. It was so obvious when he looked back on it now.

    “I don’t think he could end up with a better man, Saitama.”

    It was hard to believe that when he could feel the snot drying on his sleeves. “Th-Thanks… Doc…”

    “Well. Why don’t we head back into the lab? I’m sure you want to see how he is.”

    Saitama couldn’t have agreed faster.

    It was weird being let into the lab once they reached it. He’d seen it the first time he visited with Genos, and it was as intimidating as it was then. There were wires and tubing everywhere, spare parts, weird robo-arm…pulley…things…

    But screw that, it didn’t matter. Genos was on the slab in the middle, in one piece and breathing.

    Saitama didn’t wait to be told he could go up to him.

    “Do let him rest, though. His system needs a while to adjust to the new parts.”

    And boy, were there a lot of them… His face and hair was the same, and his body was the same basic design of the last one, but the whole thing was completely different when you got close. He was a little smoother, a little sleeker, kind of…edgier, almost. Not in a pointy way though, more of a stylish way. If anything these parts were rounder than his last ones. Saitama couldn’t wait to see how his back looked if the front was this gorgeous…

    Aw crap he wanted to hug him so bad.

    “Well, I need to sleep. It’s almost six, and I have a few of my people coming in at eight to look at a generator that blew out on Sunday, so if you’ll excuse me....”

    Saitama turned to find the doctor settled into a chair in front of three massive screens, all of them covered with constantly changing bits of text or graphs or diagrams. It looked like what his computer did after it crashed. In less than a minute his head was bobbing back and he was snoring away.

    Almost six, huh…? And if they got here at ten last night… Geeze, it was no wonder he had huge bags under his eyes.

    Saitama watched Genos sleep for the pure comfort of knowing he was asleep, and tried to pull himself away. He could nap on the floor by the bed, or find a chair (there had to be one somewhere) and do what Kuseno was doing. That way he’d be right there when Genos got up, and he’d be able to talk to him and ask him how he felt…

    His eyes darted back to Kuseno. He was out—he was out-out. Maybe…if Saitama snuck just one quick hug, it wouldn’t be so bad… He could do it without waking Genos up, he was sure…

    He stole one more look before steadying himself on either side of the slab and stepping onto it, heaving up with a smooth motion. He hovered while he decided where to lay, and when he found a spot he settled into it right away, slipping his arms around the cyborg and squeezing him as gently as he could manage.

    Fuck, this was good. This was great. He could hear him, touch him, even nuzzle him a little… His plates were so smooth Saitama couldn’t help but run his fingers over them, and...well, he’d like to say he felt more guilty when his student’s eyes fluttered open, but again.

   He was a bad liar.

    “Morning,” he mumbled, not wanting to know how star-struck he looked.

    Genos, on the other hand, seemed like he was trying to decipher code. “Sen…sei? Why…”

    “Kuseno let me in…”

    The boy stared longer. “…Are you sick?”

    “Huh?”

    “Your eyes…have you been sneezing?”

     Shit. “Uuh… Yeah. Kinda. I’m okay now, though.”

    “Oh.” He wasn’t convinced, Saitama knew that, but… “Alright.” He was also half-asleep. If he asked again later, he’d tell him the truth then. For now, though…

    “How d’you feel?”

    “Tired.” His head made a tiny twump when it fell bakc onto the granite. “…I am sorry, Sensei.”

    “How come?” His eyes were fluttering closed…

    “I…stopped the...dancing…” He was definitely falling asleep.

    “No, you’re okay. I’m sure they’re going still.”

    “It is 6:02:24—25. They do not dance so late…”

    The sweet fucking brat. God, he was so happy he was okay. “Maybe there are some stragglers…”

    “Join…Join them, Sensei. Teach…the infants…”

    Saitama laughed. “’Infants’? What infants?”

    “In the robes…”

    Now he was dreaming. “Kay, I will. Can you help me?”

    “I’m too small…”

    “I’m sure they can see you.”

    “…Okay…”

    He strung him along for a little while after that, going until his words were slurred enough he couldn’t tell what he was saying. Sometimes Genos would do that—talk for so long as he was falling asleep that he’d start describing his dreams. His boyfriend thought it was one of the funniest things in the world.

    Saitama snuggled in close. Soon, soon they would be back and home and on their futon, and they’d be able to do this properly. Probably a little less than normal—with Saitama on daily patrols and Genos making sure that crappy charity thing was running, there wasn’t much time at the end of the day—but they always fit in cuddling.

    Genos wrapped his arm around his teacher’s waist and pulled him tighter, his plugged-in wires clacking above them. Saitama pressed in and gave a second sigh, listening to the familiar spin of the kid’s core, loving the way his body heat drifted up and out and everywhere…

    It wouldn’t be long now before he was snoozing too. He was already tired, and crying didn’t help, and screw that weird-ass room with the padding in it. He’d be sleeping with Genos or not sleeping at all.

    He should probably come up with a name for the way Genos’ sounds got to him like this… It wasn’t a lullaby, no one was singing, but it sure worked like one. Saitama was dropping faster than he could say “worry wart.”

    Oh crap—his heart pounded for a single thump when he thought of Kuseno finding them like this—and immediately stopped. He couldn’t handle anymore panic for today. Genos sighed when Saitama pressed in closer, deciding to fuck it. Today was an awful day, tomorrow would be a new one.

    He gave one last look at Kuseno so he could whisper, “Night.”

    He thought the old man smiled at that, but…it could’ve been the lights.

~~~~

    “I merely believe that if they are going to falsely accuse you of being a poor hero so that they may lower your rank, the least they can do is give you credit for the monsters you do defeat.”

    “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ll be alright.”

    “I will worry about it. It’s the Heroes Association—they are expected to display some shred of decency. Instead they’re determined to deny the best hero they have the recognition he deserves for some petty show of power.”

    They’d barely been home for a full day and the kid was already off.

    “Well…don’t let it get to you. I don’t.”

    “You don’t let anything get to you, Sensei.”

    “I let you get to me.”

    His mouth hung open as he cooked up a response to that. “I… I am…” Then he was turning back to the laptop, fans buzzing at about a hundred kilometers a second. “That is different, Sensei.”

    “Oh yeah? How so?”

    They’d finished dinner an hour ago and Genos was stuck at the computer, answering the emails he’d been sent while they were in the shop. It didn’t help that he always stayed home after a big repair—on top of working on a monster report from the festival he was dealing with normal office crap too. He’d been at it since this morning.

    “I…I always give you the appreciation you deserve, so…there isn’t…”

    “Shouldn’t it matter more then? If I’m supposed to be in a huff about getting credit for stuff.”

    “I—“

    “Hell, you give me credit for stuff I haven’t done. It balances out when you think of it…” Saitama stretched out his leg and poked the cyborg with his toe. “I think I ended up the winner here.”

    “How are you the winner, Sensei?” He waved at the screen, ignoring the way his fans were whistling. Kuseno had done something to them, the noise was softer now. “You’re losing credit, money, status, reputation, purely because that two-faced ass wants to intimidate others into listening to him—“

    Saitama poked him again. “’Cause I ended up with you.”

    He could almost see the error message popping up in Genos’ eyes. “That’s—that’s irrelevant.”

    “It’s completely revela…relevant. Yeah.” He kept his foot on the boy’s leg, trying to remember what his new plates looked like. They were so cool. He peeked some over the past couple of days, but he knew if he tried to seriously check them out he’d get handsy, and…Genos wasn’t up for that yet.

    Saitama tilted his head back to watch the end of the sunset through the now-empty door. Genos was miserable as they took the lanterns down, and they’d barely talked about making up a send-off for the last day of Obon. Sure they missed it, but shouldn’t they have done one anyway? It was the right thing to do.

    He turned back to the blonde mashing away at the keyboard on the laptop. Maybe he’d bring it up later.

    “Call it a day, kid. You’ve been going back and forth with those guys since you opened your eyes.”

    “Because I can’t leave them alone for more than an hour.” He leaned closer to the screen and frowned at a big chunk of text in a message. “They mixed up my and Metal Bat’s first event, and now they’re trying to convince us to go to each other’s… I have absolutely zero interest in baseball gear, why would I want to volunteer at a sporting goods store?”

    Saitama laid quiet and waited. When Genos got frustrated he’d lean back in his seat and turn his nose up at the screen, like the person could actually see him responding. Saitama would laugh if it didn’t make him look so hot. He’d laugh, really, if all of him wasn’t…so hot.

    Genos didn’t want to risk his jeans catching on his new plates, so he borrowed his boyfriend’s old sweatpants. His hips were smaller than Saitama’s, though, and they kept on slipping down… It took physical force for the man to stop himself from reaching out to his back and running his hands all over it. It was so hard, what with it being all brand-new and shiny…and awesome, and pretty…curvy…

    …Sexy…

    Yeah. It had been a while since they’d done anything.

    Saitama shook his head and breathed deep, kicking his mind out of the gutter. If worse came to worse he could lock himself in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, and when Genos made a move, he’d have a damned field day. Right now that wasn’t important.

    The kid huffed and slid further down his seat. The light from the screen lit up his neck, his chest…slid over his coils and his belly and his arms…

    …Not important. Saitama just needed to keep on telling himself that, and maybe his frickin’ dick would get the message. As it was he was happy Genos stole the worn-out pants. If he hadn’t, Saitama would be wearing them, and it would be so much harder to hide how badly he wanted to jump him.

    He hopped up at the slam of the laptop and hurried to cover his crotch. If he laid on his side and put his leg…yeah, yeah that’d work. “All done?”

    His student nodded. “Yes, Sensei. You are right. If those idiots cannot fix their mistakes with the ten hours of help I’ve given them, then another two will do nothing.”

    Saitama mustered up the cheesiest smile he could and put his arms out wide. Genos smiled back and took the bait.

    There was a clatter and a thunk as he fell into his teacher. “You are warm.”

    “I hope so. If I was cold, it’d be a problem.”

    “It’s nice, Sensei…” He glanced above their heads and bit his lip. “You know… We are well within means to be able to afford air-conditioning. We have been for years.”

    Saitama pointed over to the fan in the corner. “But we’ve got your Biggest Fan. He does as good a job as the AC. He’s cuter, too.”

    The kid’s hair tickled as he buried his head into his Saitama’s chest. “Cuter, Sensei? Do I have competition?” He looked over to the corner and added, “I was going to touch-up his face, but maybe it would be in my best interests to let him look a little beat up…”

    Saitama did the same, and…yeah, the big black eyes were all faded and scratched up. “I don’t know about that. Nothing can compete with you, kid.” Oh—oh man, oh man—“Besides…”

    Genos stared like he was expecting a bomb to go off.

    “No matter how cool he keeps us…you’re way cooler.”

    “Sensei.”

    “Pff—even when you let out a little bit of…hot air!”

    “Sensei,” he laughed, “That is rude!”

    “No it isn’t—you’re so hot sometimes I have to fan myself off.”

    “Sensei, if you continue—“

    “What? Are you getting blown away by my jokes?”

    The kid plopped his head back onto Saitama’s pecs. A muffled “Sensei” whined out from between them.

    “That it? Did I defeat you with the power of my puns?” He leaned this way and that, nudging Genos’ forehead harder with his own the more he tried to hide. “That it? Eh?”

    Finally he muttered, “You are truly incredible, Saitama-sensei.”

    “With puns? Yeah, totally.”

    “…I never thought I would find someone with such a talent for exceptionally bad wordplay.”

    Saitama was half-kidding when he cried out and argued that no, he was great at wordplay, and of course “toilet humor” counted, and Genos did it just as much!

    His student was climbing on top of him to get more comfortable as they went on, though, and…maybe Saitama lost track of what they were saying…

    “So you concede then?”

    “Huh?”

    Genos slid to the other side of him, hand toying with the tie in his pajama pants. “That you are terrible at puns, Sensei.”

    There was kinda…no way to hide himself, this way. “N-no… Not even close.”

    “Hm,” was all he answered. He was watching the string as he tossed it around, and…

    …Were they not gonna mention they were both staring at his boner?

    “Ha,” he breathed, laying his hand on the man’s ribs. “So you will not have any…hard feelings because of it?”

    “Oh you know,” Saitama cried, tossing around until he could hide himself. On his side was the only way to manage it…

    Genos stared at the space between them, smile dimming until it disappeared. “I…am sorry, Sensei.”

    Why was he… “How come?”

    The carpet rustled against his fingertips as he traced boxes onto it. “I have not been, um…as intimate, as I should be, I believe…”

    Saitama tilted a bit closer. “That’s nothing you have to be sorry about. There’s no, like…quota. I’m not gonna come after you with a sheet that says we haven’t fucked for the twelfth time that week.”

    A barked laugh, and then, “Sensei… Still. I am sorry. And…thank you, as well.”

    “For…”

    “For not insisting that we should be.”

    His metal fingers were cold when Saitama brushed over them. “I mean…it’s the right thing to do.”

    “It is rare to find men that will always do the right thing, Sensei.”

    That…didn’t sound good. “No it isn’t. There are lots of good people, and heroes too. They do the right things.”

    The kid scoffed. “For all the wrong reasons. Fame, or money, or prestige… Power…”

    “You’re in it for the right reasons.”

     He didn’t say anything.

    “…Genos?”

    “…May we get ready for bed, Sensei?”

    He glanced up at him before hiding his eyes away, ‘cause he knew Saitama would figure out something was wrong in half-a-second— “Kid?”

    “I am very tired, Sensei,” he started, clumping his teacher’s waistband in his fist, “It has been a long day. Long…days. Please.” He curled into himself and whispered, “…Please?”

    They did. Saitama didn’t push it, but he sure as hell didn’t take his eyes off him. The same couldn’t be said for his disciple. He was doing his best to make sure he didn’t make any eye contact at all, unless it was with the floor.

    The stars didn’t even have a chance to come out by the time they were lying in their futon. Neither of them could fall asleep this early and they both knew it. Instead Saitama hung there on his side, staring, waiting.

    Genos shuffled.

    Saitama pulled him closer and Genos buried into his shoulder, clutching at his chest. These palms were softer than the old ones… Saitama had to wonder if it was because they were brand new or because they were a different kind.

     He let the thought slip away so he could focus on the boy huddled into him. It was another minute, two minutes, five, until he finally mumbled into his neck. It was so quiet, though, that Saitama pulled away and asked if he could say that one more time.

    “I am sorry.”

    Saitama leaned so far back Genos flopped onto the futon. “What? For what? You keep on saying that…”

    “Because…because I have many things to apologize for…Sensei.”

    “No you don’t…” He took up the kids’ folded hands.

    “But I do. I destroyed your yukata, I interrupted Obo—“

    “You don’t have to apologize for that. You didn’t do it.”

    Genos kept his eyes down. “…I lost my body, Sensei.”

     “No you didn’t, you’re laying right here.”

    “Sensei,” he laughed, softly, “That isn’t what I mean.”

    Saitama held a little tighter. “What else could it mean? Besides that’s not… It’s not like your body is mine, so…”

    “I…lost, Sensei.”

    He said it like it was a death sentence, and…Saitama didn’t… “Against that monster? It wasn’t really a fight, I wouldn’t say you lost.”

    He crumpled into the sheets. Wrong, that was the wrong thing to say… “It was an ambush. I let my guard down, and—“ He rolled onto his back and breathed in, forcing himself to talk while he glared at the ceiling. “I was there. There was an attack, and I was there, and I could do nothing. I should have been able to.”

    “But yo—“

    “I should have been able to.”

    Saitama watched his fists tighten, his chest puff up, his eyelids flutter. He still wouldn’t look at him.

    “I was there too, though,” he said, quietly. “If you’re in the wrong, then…I am too…”

    “For what? For saving me? Like you always do?” Genos asked, and…

    …It hurt. “No, I don’t—for not doing it faster.” His chest thud heavy. “…And I don’t always save you…”

    Genos turned his head towards the divide. “…Do you know how many times I would have died, Sensei, if you hadn’t come for me?”

    Saitama stared. “I—uh... No…?”

    “Neither do I. I stopped keeping track once the number dipped into the twenties. …That was within six months of me moving in with you.”

   Something chinked in his too-tight fist and he let it loose, pulling up his hand to inspect it. He sighed and let it fall with a slap.

    “I didn’t know how to handle that… How to repay you, for that.”

    “You don’t have to repay me. That’s not how that works.”

    Genos shook his head. “I…know. I know. But…that gratitude, that—that guilt, of knowing I couldn’t do the same…of knowing that I needed you, and you came, and—“ He inhaled sharp and clenched his eyes shut.

    His teacher reached out to him, sliding his hand onto a burning metal chest. “Genos…”

    He whipped his head back and forth.

    “Please…talk to me?” Saitama wanted to help, but…if he didn’t get it… “I want to know…”

    Black beaded at the edge of Genos’ eyes and he gave a furious groan. His fist smashed into the floor and they both jumped at the splintering crackle.

    One very, very tiny sob came out of him before he said, “I am sorry…”

    Saitama took the hand in his. It was shaking. “Kid.”

     He stared up, fighting the tears despite the tracks already leaking down his cheeks. “I should be strong…”

    Saitama started to say, “But you are,” because he was. He was so ridiculously, incredibly strong, in so many different ways, but…that’s not what he needed to hear. He wouldn’t believe him, not now. This wasn’t about all the monsters he’d taken out, or how determined he was, or anything like that.

    “Genos,” he started, carefully putting both arms out to him. He waited for the blonde to face him until he closed them around his steaming body. Then he said, deep and sure and quiet, “I’m proud of how strong you are.”

    A small groan fought its way from Genos’ mouth. “I am not going to cry,” he whispered. He was blinking past his tears. “I am not going to cry, Sensei, I am not going to cry…”

    Saitama wiped them away. “I believe you.” And he did. Even though his skin was getting wet and stained, he did.

    “I…I let them see me…” He hissed through his teeth as he breathed back a fresh wave of sobs. “Sensei… They saw me, they s-saw me Sensei, they saw me be weak—“

    Saitama pressed him into his chest. He went on talking, rocking into his hold, saying that “They saw me, they saw m-me, they think I'm weak, I messed up I b-broke they saw me break, Sensei, Sensei...”

    Saitama didn’t need to ask who “they” were. He already knew.

    He let him talk until the words faded into an angry whine, and the whine into long, uneven breaths. Then he pulled back.

    This was a long shot, but… “We should send off lanterns, kid.”

    Genos looked up, and to his credit he had fewer tear streaks than Saitama thought he’d have. “What?”

    “Floating lanterns. The ones you put in the water? You said you never did them, right…?” He combed his fingers through his hair, brushing it back. “We should do them.”

    Genos blinked, and thought, and shook his head. “Obon is over, Sensei.”

    “I’m sure we could find some.”

    “None one will be hosting the ceremonies now.”

    “We can do it on our own.”

    “But…where…”

    That was a good question... Genos probably wouldn’t want to go back to City N, the big port in city A would be nice but it would be too crowded with it being summer vacation…

    …Oh! “What about the aquarium?”

    “…The one we visited during Golden Week?”

    “Yeah.”

    He considered it for a while. “Where will we get lanterns?”

    Saitama smiled. “We’ll find them, I’m sure someone has extras.” The boy glanced up at him, not saying yes, but…not saying no either. “You wanna try?”

    “…Will you do it too?”

    “Yeah, of course.”

    His hands curled up into his chest. “…Al…Alright.”

    They got changed and left, lucky enough to catch a train that was leaving a couple minutes later. Saitama kept up a trickle of conversation—dumb sales around the cities, or a cool series he heard about, or whatever he could think of that would keep Genos occupied. He wasn’t saying much, so…if Saitama didn’t, he could only imagine the kinds of things that would fill up his head.

    They stepped off the platform and walked towards the aquarium. It was a good thing Genos grabbed his hoodie—the place was more full than Saitama thought it would be, and they got a few curious stares. No one came up to them, though, thank god. The last thing they needed was some dumb fan putting up pictures of Genos looking like he was gonna cry. Poor kid had it rough enough already…

    The trip to the building was quiet. They didn’t need to stop in, but Saitama wanted to see if they had some lanterns left over. There were crumpled signs for them in garbages they passed so chances were good. After making sure no one was lingering around the front counter he walked up to it.

    “Hey,” he started, surprising the girl who was sitting behind it. She was typing away at a computer. “Sorry, but—do you have extra lanterns?”

    Her forehead crinkled up. “Uh…lanterns, sir?”

    “Yeah, the floating ones from a couple of days ago. Are there extras you could give us? We’ll pay for them.”

     She glanced between Saitama and the big, tall, upset-looking guy behind him, and said, “Let me call my manager?”

    After a short conversation on the phone and an “Excuse me,” she came back with them under her arm. “How many did you need? I grabbed two, but…I could get more if you want.”

    “Kid?” Saitama asked. “Do you want any more?”

    He shook his head, and Saitama answered, “Nah, that’s fine. How much are they?”

    “Nothing, sir. Don’t worry about it.”

    Really? He totally expected them to charge way too much for some convenience fee. “Yeah? You sure?”

    “Yeah. My manager has been trying to figure out where to fit them all. We aren’t a storage unit, but the city seems to think so… You’re helping us out by taking some.”

    Saitama gave a big thanks and started to walk away. “Oh…crap, sorry—do you have a pen and matches?”

    He caught a definite frown at that. She pulled out a drawer and handed over a sharpie and a matchbook after some shuffling. “Please remember to return them.”

    “Okay. Thanks again,” Saitama added, tugging on Genos’ sleeve. “C’mon kid, let’s get to the dock.”

    They doubled out and padded behind the building, walking the same way they had last time they were here. It was far enough down the shore that the few stragglers from the beach were well behind them. It took some time getting there—Genos sunk into the sand, so they had to go slow—but they made it all the same.

    “Okay,” Saitama started, pulling out the marker and laying a screen against the dock. He put the other one in front of his student. “The first thing you have to do is write on it. People will put down names of the ones they’re writing to, and usually some kinda message.”

    Saitama stared at his lantern, popping the cap off the pen, and—

    …stopping. He figured he’d be sending one for his grandparents, but…shit. It had been a really long time since he’d talked to his mom or dad. A really…really long time…

    He shook his head and wrote down “Baachan” and “Jiichan” on one wall, and “Oba-chan” and “Oji” on the next. On the third he added, “Get home safe,” before handing the marker over to Genos.

    He tried not to think about the empty panel. “So what we do now is fold it along the edges—“ He folded the crease in the lantern— “And click them together so they make a box.” He held it out for Genos to see before moving on. “Then we take this candle and put it inside the grooves in the boat. It won’t be perfect, but it’s not gonna slide all around that way. Then we light it… Ah, can I see the matches?”

    Genos handed them over.

    “Thanks. We light it…put the box over it…and tada!” He held out the lantern, appreciating it. He forgot how pretty these were, the white paper catching the light from the fire…

     The screen slid against the wood as Genos straightened his own, looking between the two lanterns. The tip of the marker hovered over the first panel—Saitama could see that it was trembling.

    “You can write whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

    Genos breathed out. “This…is supposed to be what they follow as they leave.”

    “Yeah, that’s idea.”

    The flame from Saitama’s lantern flickered, fighting off the pale moonlight. Genos started to write, “Kikku,” but he shook his head and put the marker down.

    “I can’t…Sensei, I can’t do it…”

    Saitama rubbed his knee. “You talk to them bunches when we visit. This is like…a text. Or a postcard.” He squeezed gently and pushed, “It’s just something nice for them to have until next time.”

    The blonde took up the marker again. It took him a full minute before he was able to finish his sister’s name. Slowly he wrote “Papa” and “Kaa-chan” right under. He hesitated before moving on.

    “…I don’t remember if I knew my grandparents.”

    His teacher squeezed harder. “That’s okay, you don’t have to put them down. I’m sure they’ll get the message.”

    Genos put his marker to the screen like he was going to write more, and…that was it. He stopped, staring, ink bleeding out into the fibers of the paper.

    “Genos?”

    His eyes were huge and glowing so bright there were making shadows against the dock. “I do not know what to say.”

    Saitama pointed at his own lantern. “Whatever you want. I told them to get home safe, which…I guess that’s kinda silly…but it’s no big thing. ‘Miss you,’ ‘Thinking of you,’ ‘Love you…’ They’re all good.”

    The glow dimmed. “I want to tell them…so many things…” He sized up the sheet, hands framing the three panels he had left. “It would never fit.”

    “Go with what you think the most.”

    Moonbeams and fire were the only lights left. “I am sorry.”

    Saitama felt that in his gut. “Then…write that.”

    He put the pen down shakily, avoiding the veiny splotch of black, and took his time writing, “I am sorry.” He exhaled and added behind it, smaller and faster, “I am so sorry.”

    Saitama ran his hands over his leg. “Do you think anything else?”

    The boy thought, and bit his lip, and nodded.

    “I miss you.”

    He pulled the marker away, staring like the screen was going to melt in front of him. Saitama skootched closer. “Anything else? You have lots of space.”

    Carefully he brought it back, readjusting it in his hands as he fidgeted. Saitama could hear his core huffing in his sweatshirt.

    “I am trying to make you proud,” he wrote, “I am so grateful for what you gave me. I am doing my best with what is left.”

    He hovered, wiping the back of his palm across his eyes, and went on to the next panel. “I wish we could have had more time together. I miss you.” And right under it, “I love you. I miss you.”

    He paused to look at the half-full screen, and added, “I am so happy to have had you.”

    He sniffled once, twice, and went back to the page, drawing a flower. Saitama couldn’t tell what it was until it was almost done, and once he’d finished it there was a big chrysanthemum in the corner. He moved onto the next panel to draw more, and Saitama recognized some from the bouquets they’d left at the grave—lilies, and roses, and those pretty dangling ones that looked like bells.

    Just before he got to the bottom edge, Saitama put his hand out.

    “Do you mind if I write something?”

    The kid blinked back, surprised. Saitama felt a little bad, but…what he had to say was important.

    “Go ahead…Sensei…”

    Saitama took the pen and gingerly slid the frame over. “This is beautiful, Genos,” he mumbled, taking it in before filling up the last corner.

    In simple, big letters, he wrote, ”Thank you.”

    He stared at it, thinking it was…kind of nice, the way the flowers framed it, and turned his head up to his boyfriend. “Do you want to add something?”

    Genos shook his head.

   “Let’s put it together, then.”

    The waves crashed against the legs of the dock as Genos built his, and they lit his candle before putting it back inside.

    Saitama stared at the water and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess…we’ll do it here.”

    Genos could have been part of the wood for how still he was.

   “Lemme…” Saitama grabbed onto one of the legs—it was splintery, he hoped it held up—and stretched, stretched, stretched—“Got it!”

    At least he thought he did. The lantern bobbed this way and that, and for a second it looked like the fire went out, but no, it was fine. He watched to make sure the tide was bringing it out instead of in, and turned around. “Do you wanna send yours off?”

    When Genos didn’t answer, he tried again. “…I can do it for you, if… If you’d rather that.”

    A shake of the head, and half a step forward, and the dock was creaking under him. The candlelight was flickering against his body, and it was strange to see all that yellow against so much blue—the yellow from his curls and his eyes and the fire, on the blue waves, the dark shore, the shine of his core.

    He glanced over and Saitama realized he was staring. “Do you need help?”

    Genos shook his head again. “I can do it.” And he tried, copying what Saitama had done—grab the pole, lean down, put the lantern in the water. He hadn’t factored in the extra two-hundred-and-some-odd kilograms he had on his boyfriend, though, and every time he got too far the wood would start to snap.

    Saitama was there before Genos had a chance to ask. “I’ll hold you,” he told him, taking his hand. His student looked back at him—oh geeze he was trying so hard not to cry—and leaned down.

    His lantern had a much gentler landing.

    The dock groaned as Genos swung back up. They both stared at the lanterns drifting on the water under them, not saying a word. Saitama sat down first.

    “Come on, let’s watch.”

    Genos took a second before he followed suit. His shoelaces tapped against his sneakers as his feet waved above the sea, all his attention on the lights below them. They weren’t moving much, but they were going out, so they’d just have to wait until they reached a safe point.

    “Are they stuck, Sensei?”

    “Nah,” he started, pointing down. “If they were stuck they’d be going back towards the dock. We’re lucky right now, since they’re going out on their own.”

    Genos looked at the horizon. “Oh,” was the answer.

    Saitama took his hand. “You okay?”

    The boy nodded at first, and immediately changed his mind. “I’m…better than I thought I would be, Sensei. Not as good as I should be, but better nonetheless.” He got a bit quiet before he continued with, “It is already quite late, Sensei. The next train won’t arrive until 11:46, and the one after until 12:35, when they begin their afterhours schedule. We…we do not need to sit here. For that long, I mean…”

    The hand around his tightened. “We’ll stay.”

    They sat like that for a while, listening to the water as it came in and out, and the occasional laughter drifting over from schoolkids getting into trouble. Saitama explained how he hated going out like that when he was younger—he never knew what to talk about—but he liked getting outside, and the fires they’d make to sit around, and how happy everyone was. He was mostly ignored too, so it was an awkward kind of win-win.

     Genos told him he couldn’t remember much from then, but he was sure there were fires in the summer, or perhaps it was the winter. He loved them nonetheless. They were comforting.

    Saitama told him about the first time he saw the crabs coming out for food and fun, and how he thought he was just tired. He kept on rubbing his eyes but nothing changed—there were still dashes of silver running around the sand. Eventually he chased one of the damned things down and got a nice pinch on his fingers for it.

    Genos laughed. He commented that Sensei had always had trouble with animals, his voice quiet.

    The lanterns were far enough out you couldn’t read what they said.

    The moon went higher, and higher, and Saitama asked Genos if he knew the story about the moon princess. He did not, and asked what it was. His teacher couldn’t remember either—only that she was pretty, and nice, and had a bunny that made medicine mochi.

   “That’s the bunny on the moon,” he said, pointing up at it. “You see?”

    Genos smiled. “Yes, I do.”

    “He looks like that rabbit monster we took out when you first moved in.”

    “He does, Sensei.”

    Saitama mentioned a new anime series King texted him, and Genos listened. Saitama wondered what to get at the store tomorrow, and Genos told him that they needed potatoes, and tea, and butter, and a few other things.

    Saitama let his mouth shut, having run out of things to say. Genos did not insist that he talk, and he did not say thanks for getting quiet. Instead he pulled his sensei’s hand into his lap and pushed closer, head in the nook of his shoulder.

    “They are so far away.”

    He rubbed the soft curls with his free hand. “Yeah. They’re going home.”

    Genos’ breath came hot against Saitama’s skin. “Home…”

    He gave the boy space to sniffle, and to sigh. He let him bury himself into his chest and all Saitama did in return was comb through his hair the same way he had been, constant and unhurried, like the tide under their legs, like the lanterns that were now only lights on another wave.

    “You wanna get going?”

     Genos bobbed his head into his sensei’s collarbone. He didn’t move at first.

     “…Is it okay?”

    Softly, Saitama asked, “Okay for what, kid?”

    “Okay to leave them.”

    He watched them disappear behind the water, reappearring half a second later. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

    A tiny sob broke out into his t-shirt, but that was the worst of it. They stood together and walked down the dock, back past the shy little crabs and the embers of a bonfire, back along the walkway to the aquarium.

    The world was all street lamps and crickets and wind in the bushes, and the hum from Genos’ chest, and the heat of his hand in Saitama’s palm.

    They got home two hours later, after a quiet walk and a quieter ride.

    Genos cried even more quietly into his hero’s hands until he fell asleep.

   They kept the door open that night. The breeze was nice, and the sky was so clear you could see moonlight over everything.

   In the corner, fluffy and overturned, was Hoshi. They’d forgotten him there. From where the two of them were laying it looked like he was watching the sky too.

    His shadow was pitch black and small. As the moon rose it got smaller, until it too was nothing but a sliver of dark against a sea of pale blue light.