#im not fully expecting it to go this way but i definitely think they’re writing a grover b plot that revolves around thalia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoonyeon0 · 2 months ago

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Hi! I read some stories about Meguro and Hayami, I REALLY LIKED THEM! Can you write about Meguro? What happens if he falls in love with someone (S/O)? What will he do to get their attention? (1)

And maybe it's too much... but... What happens if Hayami and Meguro fall in love with the same person? (2) Does Meguro wake up more threatening to his "brother" or will he keep a closer eye on S/O to keep her away from Hayami? Will Hayami try to do so in order to limit S/O so that she does not communicate with Meguro?

(By the way, can you take more time to devote to Meguro's time Especially in (1)? There is enough content about him... But I want to read more about him...)

If you write, thank you, and yes, here are some virtual hugs for you 🤗

im gonna have a BLAST answering this ask so this will be in two parts; this is part one with ask 2 for some reason ?? these aren’t even that much like headcannons im so sorry

this was made on one ounce of sleep and listening to doja cat so please forgive me if this seems wonky.

Meguro Masaki and Hayami Masaki Falling in Love with The Same S/O Hcs

let’s go! (Warning, mentions of murder and slight hints at kidnapping under cut)

Starting off the bat you would have to be a hell of person to make both Hayami, the perfect yet imperfect man and Meguro, the crying killer fall in love with you. But I digress.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Hayami was probably was the first to fall in love. He was definitely making no moves and was just watching from a distance untill he sees a glimpse of his original - or brother if you would.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Meguro was probably looking up at you like a puppy and if you didn’t notice his eyes, they had intensifying amounts of lust and love.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I have a feeling that Meguro wanted to see how love felt and the only person he knew that was in love was his brother. So naturally he went to see you to see what all the commotion was about and he obviously didn’t regret it.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I have a feeling that if you weren’t the first person to have Hayami and Meguro, it would’ve kept happening to other people mostly because they’re basically the same, both mentally and physically, they most likely have the same taste.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Getting back on track, I think Hayami would confront Meguro driven by jealousy and frustration. Of course he still has his kind smile on but if you were smart enough to look past that, his face would’ve been a whole other type of ugly.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Of course you can expect a fight to break out. I mean, it’s two big buff men who have experience in judo. But just to mention, this fight is definitely not judo - just a slug fest.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I feel like that fight would’ve ended up in a draw. Even though no one won that fight, it still didn’t mean that they could win the war.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

So here come the advances. Hayami leaves his slow approach and rushes inside of the pursuit. He definitely spends his time around you, not that you mind but it’s definitely weird.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Hayami definitely quits acting like Hayami. He gets more jealous, protective, and suspicious about people around you. Definitely don’t bring Meguro up. Even his fake smile that he struggles to keep up will definitely fall.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now Meguro on the other hand becomes more nicer surprisingly. He does this to be able to take you under his wing but obviously his idea of nice isn’t your idea of nice. He sometimes licks you and stuff and you’re definitely baffled each and every time.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

But he definitely keeps a close watch. Any advances that Hayami makes will be watched carefully and calculated (this is a lie, we all know that Meguro can’t calculate for shit 😞)

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now, im fully convinced that no one else can go between this fight - and I mean by another guy trying to rizz you up. That would end up TERRIBLY.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I’ll just say it now, this won’t be healthy. Even if you get in a relationship with either of them, it won’t be completely healthy (Hayami could somewhat be healthy but the state he is in right now, healthy is far from it).

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

So please excuse the next few head cannons, it’s gonna get dark from now on.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now if another guy tries to get all touchy with you - which can I mention is the dumbest thing to do. If you see two buff men fighting over ONE person, you should NEVER approach that person in question 🧍.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Anyways the short version of the story is that either Meguro or Hayami is gonna ☠️ him.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The more long version is it that probably started with Hayami noticing it. I told you he got super observant and of course he noticed this so quickly.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

First thing Hayami does is tells him to not talk to you because you and him are in a ‘relationship’. Now obviously Hayami doesn’t actually think that, it’s just a tactic to get this guy off your back.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now let’s say the guy has no common sense. He’ll keep pushing his luck. That doesn’t end good.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now Meguro catches on. This is bad, terrible honestly. That guy is found dead a day after Meguro realizes that there’s other competitors.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

And don’t worry, you’re not a dumbass in this story. Obviously you take a run for it because you’re slowly realizing the danger of the situation. But you don’t run far unfortunately. You probably got caught by Meguro and Hayami. It was just combination of connections and searching.

(extra a/n: by run i mean by like on the run - not actually running)

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Now, i have a feeling that once the two find out that other people want to take you too, they will agree on one thing. Sharing you. Now this is when it gets a little bit more complicated.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Sharing you definitely meant that they both had you. Which is not easy whatsoever. You can guess the conditions from then on.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

anyway I think I’ve gone blank minded. I have nothing else to give on this 🧍 this is lowkey giving yandere…that wasn’t my intention WHATSOEVER. but I can’t rewrite this it’s too long 😞 anyways pt. 2 will come tmmrw or something

𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣! 𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months ago

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Omg yeah x/y was honestly such a good era I loved mega evolutions (wtf happened to them?? Like we just got different renditions in the form of z moves and gigantamaxing ?? I forgot what it’s called but when they blow up the pokemon in a giant ass stadium LMAO) but I do miss mega evolution…I also haven’t played any of the switch games shdgsh I was meaning to but didn’t have enough time (or motivation oops) I completely forgot about greninja he most definitely has one….bonus points if it has that giant water shuriken like the ash greninja LMAO I can imagine Karasu collecting all the token bird pokemon too HAHA like talonflame, staraptor, etc.

LMAOO Kira was honestly a good choice I just remember being like this is such a rare find?? HAHA so glad I stumbled upon peregrine and found you too <3

Honestly I think it’s just because kiyora got thrown in with like no info no backstory and no dialogue…I’m glad we’re getting more of him in epinagi where they can actually focus more on him so we can see more of what he’s like because as of right now I’m just like…I barely know you dude LOL besides the fact that you’re a middle child…manifesting tabieita return so hard please come back my glorious kings I need your goofy little duo back!!!!!!! I also wanna know who’s saying Karasu won’t make it like??? There’s no way anyone from top6 BLLK isn’t making it tbh I feel like that’d be too big of a jump but clearly they aren’t reading because he really IS carrying pxg on his back like….hard carry. Shidou hasn’t done anything beyond the first goal Charles called it quits for awhile and Rin wasn’t able to do much either like Karasus always pressing Kaiser and Isagi and keeping up let’s be real there’s no way he won’t make it :| Also narratively I don’t think it’d really make sense for him to get dropped out either if anything I think the people most in danger are the people currently not in the top 23…? Or benched players like who’s making those assumptions now…..tabieita is for sure passing (also I feel like it’s especially because otoya is like 1 of 2 people doing anything on barcha from bllk so they’re bound to also get enough bids from barcha or other clubs I feel..) but yeah er I don’t even fully remember who else is on barcha from bllk haha…

JUST FINISHED READING AND OH. MY. GOSH. THAT WAS AMAZING??? I had sm fun reading it I was smiling at my phone and actually laughing. I’m CRYING Otoya and bestie getting shipped??? That’s hilarious esp how he like ends up cock blocking her attempts to get close to the others like Reo??? Peak comedy I ate that UP!!! And SHSJSBDH KARASU REUNION THAT WAS SO CUTE and honestly fit them so well with the banter too!!! I can only imagine how the aquarium date would go….imagine either he falls into the touch pool or at least gets splashed somehow and flips out LMFAOO

I LIVE for this journey of a story truly keeping the Karasu community alive and kicking I feel like this just added a millions years to my lifespan like I’ve been revived and rejuvenated thank you very much. Also Chigiris sister!!! Omg I love that we end up forming a little bestie group with her and yukis gf too!!! Girlbosses fr!!!!

Also the Karasu Y/n adopting Hiori agenda SO REAL IM SO ON BOARD HAHA I’m crying he fr is just their kid like it’s so funny and makes sm sense too….i lost it with the u20 match invites though like we really got the invite instead of his parents LMFAOOO the way you write him makes him so squishy too I just wanna squeeze him like the hamster he is idc if he’s 6 foot

But anyways I’m honestly running out of words to say because my vocabulary isn’t extensive enough to praise this as much as it deserves THANK YOU SO MUCH SHSGSHS I was never expecting a request of mine to your event to have led to something like this!!! So glad to have been able to chat with you as well as follow along with this story (I’m definitely going to go reread the entire series from start to finish at least three times)

Take care of yourself and I’m looking forward to whatever you put out next!!!! Can’t wait to ramble and chat more about karasu (or really even anything LOL) To more Karasu filled BLLK moments and writing masterpieces o7

- Karasu anon

YES i loved mega evolutions but everything after that felt like it was trying too hard to be gimmicky…i’m in the same boat i’ve played all of the 3ds games and a few of the ds ones but none of the switch ones. LMAOO i bet he missed the event to get the special ash greninja because he was on a date or smth so he had to pay nagi/hiori to give him theirs or hack his game so he could get it 😭 KARASU’S TEAM IS DEF 5 RANDOM BIRD POKÉMON + GARCHOMP I FEEL IT IN MY BONES he’s sooo garchomp coded somehow…maybe talonflame staraptor honchkrow skarmory and pidgeot?? idk though. i’ve considered writing a pokémon au before i think it would be so fun hehe but who knows

i will SCROUNGEEE wikis to find the most random characters for my fics…either that or i’ll jump straight to ocs. i think i tend to use canon characters at all costs for male characters and ocs for female characters because lbr most animangas have very very few female characters let alone well written ones (shoutout anri only female character in bllk fr) so i just make my own

YES i agree kiyora just randomly appeared and gave us a backstory and then passed…honestly i think i’d have been more interested if we didn’t know much abt his backstory until AFTER he passed to kaiser but it seems like he’ll be important for the rest of the match so i’m sure we’ll get more information on him soon

AGREED like people are saying NAGI isn’t going to start on the world cup team?? please be sooo fr he’s shown time and time again that he’s capable of insane chemical reactions w almost any player he 100% is starting. tabieitaken also are definitely going to be there even if they don’t start (i think of the three karasu has the best chance at starting just because we don’t see many other players playing in his position whereas chigiri, bachira, etc could be wingers instead of yuki/otoya)…yeah literally besides bachira and otoya barcha is a bunch of randoms 😭 i need these people to focus their worries on like nanase and zantetsu HAHA. personally i’m 10x more scared for zantetsu than karasu 🙁 i don’t want him to be kicked out of bllk we need more himbo rep in anime

OMG YAYYY I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! help otoya and bestie hating one another but accidentally cockblocking each other for the entire fic was SOO fun to write 😭 poor bestie she just wanted a rich man but she’s stuck w otoya’s ninja ass. i think my fav moment of theirs was when he won her the plushie but instead of being romantic it actually furthers their enmity 😔 the bllk fans in-universe know what’s up!! otoya x bestie AND karasu x y/n…taste fr. lowkey poor bestie because not only is she single af and enemies with a guy who pretends to be a ninja in public, her OWN bff is in the most perfect relationship ever 😭💔 karasu invented boyfriendism like he’s so HDKDHDSJ in this fic!!!

it truly was such a journey 🥹 YES i needed there to be more female characters plus i thought it would be so funny if y/n is just going around adopting bllk characters…like hyoma’s HER brother now too wdym 🙄 she needs to meet rin ong i think she would cure him (and bestie needs to meet sae i think she would humble him so bad). i know for a FACT that the girlies of fwtkac groupchat is probably sooo fun. like bestie just spams otoya slander (she finds entire twitter threads dogging on him and makes up bs to get him cancelled online), y/n sends edits of everyone (especially otoya x bestie ship edits because she finds them hilarious), chigiri’s sister keeps trying to convince them to visit her in tokyo, and yuki’s gf is the designated hype girl 🥹

LMAOAOAO karasu w hiori is like the quintessential dad who DID NOT want to get a puppy but somehow he loves the dog the most and feeds it 5 million treats a day 😭 y/n and karasu truly are the parents that stepped up 😪 but also LMAOAOA no i thought it was so funny like imagine hiori knowing that karasu is probably going to invite his gf and being like “ya i’m going to invite your gf too” it’s like that one reddit meme where the guy says “if i could sleep w anyone in history i’d choose my wife who passed away” and some random dude says “i’d choose your dead wife too” HAHAAH but not romantic because hiori is just her little squishy child fr

THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH i also did not expect an event request would get to be this extensive but i enjoyed it so much!! i’m hoping to work on my hiori requests so tentatively those will be next but we’ll see how things go hehe. and i look forward to many more conversations and ramblings in the future!!

bonus: karasu texting otoya after his aquarium date (screenshotted from an insta post i saw earlier LMAOOO)

#answered asks #five ways to kill a crow

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carebearscomfort · 2 years ago

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OH OH IM LOVING THIS CONCEPT

OKAY okay

This could go two ways

The vibe could completely change depending on wether or not they have the characters speak or not. As much as I prefer for LEGO games to have no voice lines, it looks like they’re sticking to having voices so we’ll work with that

In the original Star Wars saga you could customize some of your own characters that you could play as after completing a story (along with characters you unlock) and I can see them doing that as well.

Story wise I think they would take a similar route to that as well where they recreate stories from already existing CB content. Of course with their classic nonserious LEGO game writing. I feel like there’s a wider variety of jokes they could make that could also appeal to their older audience as well. CloudCo is fully aware they have an older audience and lean into a fair bit when it comes to merch. Somebody would definitely make a “hug life” or “hug dealer” joke yknow? That type of fun stuff.

I feel like they’d definitely recreate the first two movies, maybe an original story with the nelvana series villians, if they made it during this era definitely a UTM world story. Possibly other stuff but that’s what I’d most likely expect

If I had to bet I think they’d make a hub world where you can chose which story you wanna play, and playing one unlocks another. (Again, similar to the original Star Wars saga) Maybe they could try and combine it into one actual big world that combines the iterations, but I think a single hub world where things are chill would work fine.

Sorry this idea just tickled my brainworms a lot since I enjoy a good bit of LEGO’S content

If Traveller's Tales made a Lego Care Bears game in the style of Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga, how would some character interactions go?

Hmm....I'm not really sure. I'm not too familiar with all of the Lego movies. But I imagine there would be a lot of jokes like there are in the more modern versions of Care Bears.

#cbc thoughts #care bears

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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duskholland · 4 years ago

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okay so... im trying to sell this the best way i can lol - how about the reader wearing a pair leggings or something, and sitting on (mob??) Tom's lap. Maybe she had been teasing him the whole day so when he can feel that she's not wearing any underwear he straight up rips a whole in the seam of the leggings so he can fill her up without it being visible... maybe someone walks in at one point?? idk i hope this makes some kind of sense. also - I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG SO MUCH

– clearing out the askbox –

the idea of him like...physically ripping a hole in leggings because he’s /so/ desperate…………. ughhhh. your mind. I imagined normal!tom for this, but could also work with mob!tom! I also forgot to write them getting interrupted bc I was just super in the zone, but I hope you’ll like this anyways :) nsfw 18+

extended warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, kinda dom!tom.

––

You’ve been winding Tom up all day.

It’d started out slowly. Soft kisses to his chest when you’d woken up, a few light hickeys suckled up his neck, your hand palming at his boxers. When he’d gone to pull you closer, you’d thrown out an excuse and rolled out of bed, leaving him frustrated, flushed, and hard, and you’ve only grown more devious as the day passes by. It’s not that you want to torture him, you just enjoy what happens when you push Tom a little too far.

Bending over the counter and arching your back as you fix yourself a tea, brushing your hands over his shoulders whenever you pass, stretching purposefully just so your shirt rides up to show the lower band of your bralette, lacy and bold -- you do it all, and you love every second of it. You live with Tom’s friends and his brother, and they’re trapped in meetings together all day, so you know Tom’s unable to do what he really wants to do to you. Instead, you get to see his stares, his clenched jaw, and his flaring nostrils, all whilst you do your best to rile him up.

The thrill you get from teasing him builds all day, and by mid-afternoon, you’re practically quivering. After doing a final outfit change, you make your way down to Tom’s office, knowing he’s got a few hours reviewing some notes and scripts before he’s due on another conference call with the rest of the boys.

You knock on his door lightly, grinning when you hear him call out a brief, “Come in!”

He’s sitting behind his desk, a grumpy frown stitched to his lips as he pours over documents. When he glances up at you, some of the tension in his face dissipates, but only for a moment. Tom growls, his expression shifting from irritation to frustration, and he immediately sits up a little straighter.

“You little minx,” he says, pushing his chair back from the desk. His eyes glint almost black, watching as you leisurely make your way over to him, swinging your hips as you go. “I know what you’ve been doing all day.”

You bite your lip, shrugging innocently. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about, Tom. Are you feeling okay?”

He grunts, rubbing both hands over his thighs invitingly. “C’mere,” he mutters, greedy eyes taking you in. “You don’t get to act all coy.”

You fall down into his lap, straddling his thighs as your hands go up to his shoulders. Tom wraps his arms around you and pulls you in as close as possible, causing you to grin when you feel his firm cock pushing up into you.

“Have you been that hard all day?” You tease, pouting at him.

Tom gives the slightest nod.

“Yes,” he grunts. “Your fucking fault.”

He kisses you then, a hard collision of teeth and lips and tongues. There’s a force behind it that hasn’t come out in a while, and you moan as you feel the heat. It isn’t slick or neat in the slightest, but you enjoy it. Tom’s hurried and desperate, and it makes you feel powerful as his hands roam all over your figure, grabbing fistfuls of your back, your hips, your ass. When he reaches your bum and the very thin pair of leggings you’d slipped into just to tease him, he breaks away from the kiss, panting.

“Don’t tell me you’re completely bare under these,” Tom says, mouth against your lips. His fingers run around your waist, then trace the curves of your ass, and you know he’s realised the smoothness means you’ve gone without panties.

“Felt a bit bad about teasing you so much,” you coo. “Thought I’d make it easy for you.”

The noise Tom releases in response to that information is hot enough that it makes your centre throb, and you find yourself whimpering when he dips his hands between your legs.

“Sit up a bit, darling,” he murmurs, briefly moving his hands to tug at your waist. You sit up on your shins, holding his shoulders for support, and watch, slightly perplexed, as Tom’s hands disappear between your legs. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes rippling with dark lust as he meets yours. “Such a fucking tease,” he murmurs. Without any further hesitation, you hear a loud tearing sound, and your eyes widen as you watch Tom rip your leggings at the crotch. The cheap seam bursts easily, and you whimper again as he makes the hole bigger, his movements fast and eager.

“Tom,” you whine, your heart beating heavily in your chest. You’d just wanted to rile him up, never expected to see him this frenzied. Yet, it’s a huge turn on -- shown evidently by the way he easily slips two fingers into your cunt, your tight heat wet with arousal.

“I don’t think you feel bad about teasing me, love,” Tom grunts. He’s fast with his hands, curling his digits into you and stimulating your g-spot with each thrust of his slender fingers. He pushes the thumb of his other hand into your mouth, forcing you to suck on it as he fucks your heat. “You’re soaked for me, aren’t you? You get off on this. Walking around all day, teasing me like a spoilt brat.” He chuckles when you moan, the sound muffled by his finger in your mouth. “You walk around like you’re an angel, but we both know what you really want.”

He spends a few further moments with his thumb in your mouth before slowly pulling it out and bringing the pad down to fondle your clit. You jerk in his lap, fire twisting in your core as you feel him coax you towards a high.

“Oh, you’re not going to cum yet, are you, darling?” He asks, blinking up at you with a devilish expression on his face. He smirks as he slips his fingers from you. “As if.” He breaks to chuckle and then presses a brief kiss to the pout on your lips. “Get my cock out and then you can ride me. You don’t deserve it, but I do.”

Eager to oblige, you reach down and tug Tom’s cock free from beneath the waistband of his grey sweats. After licking your palm a few times, you slowly stroke his length, paying particular attention to his weeping tip with your thumb and the long curved vein that runs down the side of his cock. Tom groans, tossing his head back as his hands grab at your ass, his face slowly flushing.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Get on me, babe. Please. I can’t wait any longer, g’nna bust so fucking fast if you keep that up.”

Smirking softly, you kiss his cheek as you sit straighter. You deposit light kisses all the way back to his lips, and you have his tongue in your mouth as you reach down and guide his cock into you. The hole in your leggings is wide enough to grant him complete access, and you both moan as you take him, fully.

“Shit,” you whimper, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. You start to ride him, quickly picking up pace as you enjoy the feeling of your cunt adjusting to him. Tom’s hands weigh down your hips, urging you on as he grunts too. “You’re so big, Tom, fuck. Feels so good.”

“Mmm, you like it, don’t you?” His voice is thick, pulled tight with arousal. “Such a needy little thing.” He breaks off, eyes watching the way you ride him, your eyelids drooping shut, your jaw half-slack. “That’s it. Make me cum, love. Make me fill you up. I deserve it, after all the teasing you’ve pulled all day, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” you whimper. He’s got one of his hands back on your clit, and the sensations pulsing out from your bud coupled with the way the tip of his cock rubs up against your g-spot with each of your bounces feels like heaven. “Want you to fill me up, Tom, please. Let me feel you.” You grip at his shoulders. “Mark me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me.”

Tom curses, and when he starts to angle his hips to thrust up and meet each of your movements, you find yourself flying over the edge. It’s hard to tell who peaks first, but you can feel him pulsing as he shoots his load into you, in sync with the way your walls clench around him. Your lips find your way back to his, and it’s messy as you both pant together, your hips moving until both of you have finished. You stay seated on him, his cock plugging you to the hilt, and Tom pushes his forehead to yours even as your mouths fall apart.

“Fucking hell, love,” he murmurs, causing you to smile. “What got into you today?”

You shrug. “Just wanted to have some fun,” you admit. “You liked it.”

Tom nods, his hands briefly running over your waist. “I did. Sorry about your leggings, though.”

“Worth it,” you say.

Your boyfriend chuckles. “Definitely.”

#haven't posted anything in a week so thought i'd treat you all :) hope you like ! was a lot of fun :))#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.filth #smut #queued

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vintagerain · 3 years ago

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Let’s talk about Genshin 2.1 ✨

Right! I did make a Post earlier about 2.0 regarding the Archon Quests and Mihoyo’s Godly writing team that involves the Traveler’s development.

But honestly I am so overwhelmed and in Shock by what I just witnessed right now that I’m sure what I’m about to say is even coherent. Whoever’s working on the story needs a raise, honestly.

Let’s talk about The Traveler.

The Traveler Is someone who genuinely cares about people and despite their fighting ability is certainly not violent. But the Fatui pushed them WAY too Far this time. The Traveler snapped. Teppei genuinely didn’t deserve what happened to him.

Rest In Peace Teppei✨

BUT WHAT I did not expect was the Signora Boss fight. I knew we would fight her but I didn’t think that’s how it would play out. I didn’t expect the Traveler to duel her in front of the Shogun. The Traveler has heard Kazuha’s story so she would fully understand that the loser was going to die. In that moment, I can’t help but think that the Traveler wanted Signora to die. Which is interesting because they’ve never really been murderous. This is also probably what led to the cutscene afterwards.

But anyway, I love Venti sooooo…

But I do have Questions. Is Signora really dead? I just find it hard to believe I guess?

Did Scaramouche set her up? At that point he’s probably had the Gnosis for a day or two so why did Signora continue to meet with the Shogun?

Also was Sara unconscious or dead? Because she definitely stopped moving… and I completed Baal’s story quest and she wasn’t mentioned despite being a part of the Kujou clan? Because if she is dead then that means playable characters aren’t immune to death. Also how the Harbingers making use of their Delusions of it’s so dangerous?

The part involving Kazuha was insane. As a Kazuha main, I am a little upset that we didn’t see him or Gorou more in the story. But his scene was truly heartbreaking especially when he left the vision shell behind at the grave in the last cutscene. But I’m also incredibly proud of him✨ But at the same time he gave me a heart attack running at her with Goddamn Fillet Blade.

I’m confused as to what made the vision reawaken though? Was it possibly his ambition to save his friend. Was this the same ambition that gave his friend his vision? I’m confused and on tears.

In any case, I will now be actively looking for that location with Kazuha. I hope we’re allowed to leave Flowers 🌻

In terms of Baal. In my personal opinion, I’m definitely more attached to Venti and Zhongli and honestly I don’t really have anything else to say about her.

In Terms of Scaramouche’s background!!

Now This was very interesting. I figured that he was related to Inazuma somehow but that was unexpected. I am genuinely curious to see how he plays out in the future. However, it is said that Ei began making the puppet centuries ago but definitely after Khaenriah which means that Scaramouche is roughly 500 years old. And immortal.

So that’s fun.

Do I like him? He’s not exactly in my good graces but I am so genuinely curious about him that I can’t say I dislike him either. Im definitely looking forward to seeing him again especially since Signora is gone. I’ll make a clearer judgment on him when I know what’s going through his head.

About the Gnoses.

The Gnoses has genuinely baffled me because up until this point it almost seems like not a single Archon actually cares about Celestia. They’re literally just handing them away. Yes, Signora did aggressively take it away from Venti but afterwards he was just like “sooo anyway….”

Like do you not care??

Although the Gnosis does give them an increase in power it seems as though it’s main function is to connect them to Celestia. But the Archons do not seem phased about losing said attachment as well as most of their power.

Venti was notorious for not using his Gnosis anyway and honestly he doesn’t seem all that eager to get it back. Zhongli handed his away, as he only kept it because he wanted to continue to look after Liyue. And Baal just gave it to her friend who traded it with ease. Yae Miko didn’t even know what it was.

On top of that. We now have confirmation that they are indeed modeled to look like chess pieces. I do now have a theory that they were all being controlled by their Gnoses in exchange for their power and the War with Khaenriah has made them all bitter towards the current ruler and they all wish to rebel in their own way. But THIS IS JUST A THEORY!! And it is my Own Personal Assumption so please take it with a grain of Salt!

Anywho. That’s all I have to say for now. I wish you all a Fantastic 2.1 and to those who are wishing on the Banners, May your wishes shine Gold!

Let me know what you think of The New Update and what you liked about it most. I quite like reading Comments and reblogs.😌

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lasquadrasfuckhouse · 3 years ago

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ohoho how about la squadra with a s/o that used to be priest/nun, but they have chosen to forsake god

their mind turned out to be the filthiest shit they’ve even encountered, yet their s/o is the one who call his/her boi “filthy sinner”

basically a smug, hypocritical, not openly perverted freak uwu

I’m sorry that u have to work on this but I couldn’t resist the temptation, since your writings brings me so much joy .///.

anon this ask is absolutely fucking hilarious to me because i'm jewish and we have a number of traditional teachings that lend towards some very pragmatic views on sex (and i never really fully understood priest/nun kink and find it funny more than anything because our religious leaders fuck FNFKFKGJFKD) but i will do my best for u!!!! and thank u im so glad my writing brings u joy 🥺

honestly i think views on priest/nun kink from the perspectives of ppl who are Very Much Not Christian should be its own brand of comedy LMAO

la squadra with a partner who was a priest or nun 🛐

HEADS UP: this post contains mentions of religious trauma. pls stay safe i love u and so does la squadra ❤️

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

risotto ✂️

he'll be very curious. he and catholicism do not get along, so he'll wonder if he should be wary or if you're a kindred spirit of sorts

part of him looking satanic and scary is cause it makes him feel safe from that sort of environment. if you express to him that you understand that and you're comforted in being an antithesis to that life too, he'll feel very safe with you.

and he does like your filthy mind, it's satisfying to him and also part of that comfort that you were like 'fuck this actually' and did a 180 into being a kinky assassin. hard line at bringing that shit into the bedroom though. not into it. he'd rather get back in touch with his humanity with you instead of feeling like a 'sinner.'

prosciutto 🚬

he'll raise a brow when he learns of your past. he wonders how you wound up here, but he won't ask. he doesn't think much of it.

he would think he wouldn't have expected you to be so depraved, but on the other hand, you did leave that life behind. it's kinda funny to him more than anything

fondly call him a 'filthy sinner' and he'll chuckle and whisper in your ear: hypocrite.

pesci 🎣

he'll honestly wonder if you're like, Okay. like, u good? most people generally don't go from 0 to 100 like that. sweet man is just concerned

HE DEFINITELY DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO BE SO KINKY. it sort of catches him off guard, but then he thinks maybe it shouldn't be so surprising considering the 0 to 100. he's still very flustered, tho

probably not into bringing it into bed. definitely not into degradation, so!!!

formaggio 🧀

he cracks a lot of jokes about it that's for sure. it's really funny to him

he kind of can't believe how kinky you are not for the fact of what you used to do but because it's too good, right? he's definitely into it tho. he likes how no one coulda guessed.

lovingly call him your 'filthy sinner' and he'll hum and grin and flip you on your back. you want a filthy sinner? he'll give you one. you're his sinner, too

illuso ✨

it definitely interests him. he may taunt you about it; embrace the 'fall from grace' as it were (something something lucifer) and he'll be even more interested.

oh, he really likes how kinky you are. he will absolutely tease you about it. you're such a depraved thing, aren't you? no wonder you left a 'holy' life behind.

call him your sinner, and he'll say you're the real sinner here, but he does enjoy being 'unholy' with you. he will absolutely take you into the mirror world to fuck in one of those fancy cathedrals, the whole ass sistine chapel even. thank u michaelangelo for this depiction of christian god so illuso can defy it by making his partner pray to him in front of it instead

melone 🍈

fascinating! he'd be very interested in learning more on your choice to leave and your perspective if you're down for it.

he LOVES how kinky you are. were you always like that? of course you weren't satisfied with that life. he could certainly satisfy you, though.

call him your filthy sinner, and he'll kiss your neck and go, mm, i think that's you, amore.

ghiaccio ❄️

how the fuck does that happen? he may be sort of mildly curious, but that's all.

it makes perfect sense to him that you're Like That, you rejected it all and became an assassin ffs. not that he isn't still a little bit flustered about it.

he doesn't get the fond name. how can he be a 'sinner' if he isn't even christian???? that shit don't make any sense!!!!! if anyone's the 'sinner' here it's you, but he doesn't get that either cause you chose to leave that life anyway. make more sense, dumbass!!!!!

sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦

they're having the time of their lives. they love to see that nonsense taken down a notch, and the fact that you do too and did it so thoroughly? oh. chef's kiss.

OF COURSE YOU'RE KINKY. THEY LOVE IT. they're rather depraved too, so they'll have a lot of fun fucking you every which way and teasing you about it.

'filthy sinner' kind of turns them on. they love being bad with you and walking further away from god with you (or whatever). they don't need the mirror world to fuck you in a cathedral, get on their level!!!!!

#YIDDISH LAUGHTER #religious trauma -/#priest kink -/#la squadra #la squadra x reader #not safe fw #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #illuso #melone #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #vento aureo #ask

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relax-and-read-on · 3 years ago

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I’m going to try and be as held together as possible. But the Primarchs are BROTHERS. Yes, the astartes are a whole another can of worms. But they’re brothers. Why? What is with the incest in this fandom? (I’m totally for lgbt I’m aro ace myself and a fanfic writer.) But this is just why?

Well, I fully expected someone to come at me eventually about this, and I thank you for actually being very polite about it! I'll try to explain myself as much as I can. I will only speak about myself and how I see it, it might be different for others.

First one all: Imo, genetically, they are not any more related than two random humans plucked from different continent. It's canon that Big E mixed up many string of DNA to make them. I do headcanons some of them as closer, genetically. Alpahrius Omegon are obliviously twins, and I like to Imagine Corvus and Konrad as such too.

Second: Culturally, again, imo, most of them don't see each others as brothers. They grew up on different planets, some with actual siblings and foster family, and only became into contact with each others as adult. Im pretty sure that canon Emperor simply decided to use a "family" structure to control them more easily, creating a sense of loyalty in them and not just going "hello im a weirdo who made you in a lab and then accidentally lost you around the galaxy".

I actually think it greatly vary, how the boys see one another. Magnus definitely see Lorgar as his brother, but if my memory is right, never gave a shit about Konrad. As a result, calling someone "brother" with meaning feel like a very deliberate choice for them.

Third, author intent: warhammer was created in.... An area were representations was, at best, minimal. Now I know it's the imperium and all, but they still somehow managed to sneak in some really awful queer coding. Fulgrim being so obliviously lgbtq+ and being the one to fall to the demon of sex and lust? (I know, slaanesh represent other things, but the link is here). Lion being LITERALLY named after a queer poet and having his entire concept being into hiding and secrecy? It suck. It really, really suck. So, I queer up some more of the characters. I make Corvus a transwoman, turn Ferrus into a gay icon, and let Leman be the bisexual horn dog he always deserved to be.

Fourth... Well, this is a bit more shallow, but: it make for great story. Literally almost everyone that is a big name in warhammer is freaking related, unless you move to the guards (Wich I do, god I could write love letters about the guards). As such, if you want to add romance to a story, and I do enjoy solid romance, and sex, and drama, you will quickly run into some issues of just... Not having enough unrelated character. Wich suck!!! I want more normal humans to have SM bf!!! Heck I want xenos to date the big dudes!!!! One of my fav ship is literally Yvraine/Guilliman yall

Im also terrible at dealing with oc, I don't enjoy writing them most of the time, and they feel extra cringy if I try to ship them with a main cast.

Fifth point, kinda related to the precedent two: something, having the boys being in love make a better story. The absolute tragedy of Fulgrim killing Ferrus, and then realising what he has done?? The pained betrayal of Sanguinius, after realising that Horus was utterly lost to Chaos? Beautiful. I like those things better with a flavoring of romance, but I fully respect someone who think it's more poignant to write about family members experiencing that betrayal.

Sixth: I write mostly to cope. I have a lot of pretty serious health issues, and suffer various shade of ptsd. I have experienced very personal and awful things before, and worked frontline in healthcare during the worst of the pandemic. It might seem like a strange way to justifie it, but going feral and posting outrageously sexual and stupid things really does help me relax and deal with bad things in my life.

And finally, the one that is the most important to me: they are fictional. They are literally plastic figurine that I can walk around on my table and can make them kiss in pretend if I want to. I could also take their mini, grab some greenstuff, and decide that, my Magnus is now "Sir flying mc pants, level 5 wizard of birbs and stupidity" and paint him green.

I have fun imagining them fucking or falling in love or eating spicy tacos or singing at eurovisions (and yes that post is coming), because it bring me joy, and I don't see it as incest. They aren't real. I can literally decide to not make them brother in my brain, just as I decided that Colchis should be based on Algeria in all my hc, or that Vulkan should not be chucked in black paint.

So yeah, that's why I write what I write!!! To be honest tho, you came around at a bad time, rn almost everything recent is peak horny posting lol. My mutuals do seem to enjoy it??? Good for them?????

If this is still distasteful to you, that's totally ok! We all have different tolerance level for fictional content. There's plenty of things that I avoid, and I don't mind at all if people block me! Your comfort level is more important than exposing yourself to potentially triggering content.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #wh40k #warhammer community #meta #primarch #wowi i wrote a novel again oops #i can never shur up can't I

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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

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Fatgum As a Dad

This was inspired by a conversation I had on a discord server, we all have daddy issues and want Fatgum to adopt us so here’s all the shit we collected.

There are some serious themes in here, mostly regarding the biological parents of the kid, but it’s vague as possible. If anyone wants me to add a trigger warning please let me know.

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

It all started when he was a kid, when he learned what an orphanage was. One of the kids in his class mentioned being from one, so when he got home he asked his parents about it.

“Mom, what’s an orphanage?”

“Well, Taishiro, it’s where children that don’t have parents go. Then people can come and adopt the children. Why do you ask.”

“A kid at school said he’s from one, when d’you think he’s gonna get adopted?”

“He might, not all children get adopted. Some of them stay in the orphanage until they’re adults.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he shouted. “EVERYONE DESERVES A HAPPY CHILDHOOD!”

“Well, honey, life’s not fair. And not everyone gets a happy life. It’s how most villains are made, actually. They were hurt more than everyone else and couldn’t handle it anymore. Not all villains are like that but many are. I think you should stay away from that kid, Taishiro. He might turn out a villain.”

But he didn’t stay away. And he made it his mission to become a pro hero so he could make a ton of money and help as many people as he could. He’d help even villains, keep them from doing something dangerous and inspire hope in them.

Then, he’d adopt any kid who needed a father. All the orphanages and foster programs would be empty. Homeless children off the street and in his house, being fed and clothed. He’d care for each and every one of them, not wanting a single person to feel like they didn’t belong.

He finds most of his kids at pride parades. He walks around with a shirt that says ‘FREE DAD HUGS’ and a box full of candy. He remembered one of the kids walking up to him slowly.

“Um.. are you Fatgum?”

“Yes I am!”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Yes you can, Kiddo!” he got down, and the kid put his arms on his stomach (Fatgum’s too big for anyone to fully hug, the dude’s taller than Allmight!) he wrapped his arms around the kid before he heard sniffles. He looked down and saw that the kid was crying.

“M-my parents never hug me like this!” they exclaimed. “They haven’t since I came out. They want to kick me out when I turn thirteen!”

“Can I have their number? I’m going to... talk to them.”

He ended up taking the kid’s family to court, and since the parents were going to just kick the kid out anyways, they let Fatgum adopt them, but they kept nagging him about how he was ‘going to be raising a little demon.’

“Then call me Lucifer.” he spat right back. Now, that kid’s grown up, has pride flags all around their walls, and doesn’t ever doubt that they’re loved.

Fatgum probably bakes with his kids. Helping them up onto the counter to mix ingredients and play with the dough. If they mess something up or break a glass, it’s fine. He doesn’t yell at them or sigh and shake his head, he just kissed the kid on the forehead and helps them clean up the mess.

The food always turns out amazing, and Fatgum always tells the kids that. All of his kids are now Gordon Ramsay level chefs and have probably met Gordon Ramsay.

No matter what their body type is, Fatgum tells his kids their handsome/beautiful and are model worthy. If anyone comments of one of his kid’s body, whether it be negative or... ‘positive’ in a creepy way, you can expect that they’re getting slammed into the ground. No questions asked.

One of Fatgum’s kids is really good at make-up. Like, really good. So Fatgum did the only thing a rational father would do.

Ask for a make-up job.

It didn’t end all that well...

“Hold still.. I gotta get the eyeliner on.”

“Gosh, Kiddo it’s making my eyes water.”

“I know, just hold still... aaaand...... done! Now don’t touch it or it’ll smear!”

“Wow, that looks great! You’re really good at this!”

“Thanks, dad- you smeared it already didn’t you?”

“....Nope.”

Fatgum: I'm not gonna do it, it just seemed like a good option.

Fatgum not even two seconds later after seeing a trans kid crying: now carrying said child on his shoulders while his spouse is chuckling in a corner after signing adoption papers I did it.

This man would get his kids almost anything they wanted. Especially kids with ADD/ADHD/Autism/Tourettes/Anxiety who need stim toys.

Kid: chewing on their nails.

Fatgum: here take this stim toy, and this one, you chew this one so that might help-

Kid ends up with more stim toys than they can count.

Fatgum: just doing his job

The Daddy Issues Gang: Hi dad- oh shit wait- Hi- I- fuck- trauma ensues. crying

Fatgum: grabs the daddy issues gang we're going to the nearest courtroom say hello to your new father its me im the father ok lets go.

Kid: um, dad can I talk to you?

Fatgum, turning around quickly: yes?

Me: ‘he moved so quick, he's mad at me, I'm gonna get yelled at’ Sorry, sorry!

Fatgum: uh, no. I'm getting you ice cream and a new stuffed animal no questions asked

He'd just know when something's wrong, and he’d be great at comforting.

His usual style of comfort is to let the kid sit on his stomach and tell him what’s wrong. His body is one giant pillow for his kids to lay on, he can fit at least eight of them if they cuddle in closely.

Once filmed a commercial dressed as the Cool-Aid man, and all of his kids were in the commercial.

Fatgum: Busts down wall “OH YEAH!”

Director: “And CUT! Okay, try a little more aggressive-”

Fatgum, in tears: “I don’t wanna scare my kids.”

As stated before, if anyone makes his kids feel bad he’s punching them to the ground, but sometimes he’s not in a position where he can do that. Like if a Karen mom ever comes over.

"Linda stop bringing lemon squares if you're going to talk about my son that way because they're just as sour as your attitude."

Fatgum but he slaps the toxic members of your family and tells them to do better or he's taking you.

Then takes you anyway because you prefer him.

Fatgum with a sweater that says ‘mr dad guy on it’

Fatgum definitely watches ATLA, and quotes Uncle Iroh daily. When his kids are minding their own business they suddenly hear

“Leaves from the vine... falling so slow...”

INAUDIBLE CHAOS AND PANIC

Fatgum agency cosplayed ATLA characters on Halloween.

Fatgum was Iroh.

Kirishima was Sokka.

Tamaki was either Momo or Appa.

Maybe get a couple others in on it too, Mirio could be Aang and if Kirishima convinces Todoroki to join for a while he’d totally be Zuko.

Fatgum lets his kids squish his face.

Fatgum used to work with a hero who was hard of hearing, so he learned sign language to help them, and he’s got the skill saved in case one of his kids might be deaf.

So one day, Kirishima invites Bakugou on patrol with him, and we all love that headcanon of Bakugou going deaf, so when he gets pissed at something, he starts insulting everyone around him in SL.

Fatgum notices and starts signing back to him.

YOU’RE ALL MOTHERFUCKERS AND I HATE YOU ALL!

Hey, now, let’s calm down and not call everyone motherfuckers.

FUCK YOU TOO

Bakugou...

Everyone thinks that they’re doing magic, because they’re making all these shapes with their hands and keep looking offended at each other.

Now, Fatgum tries his gosh darn hardest to keep up with the memes, so when his kids come home with good grades, he says “That’s so pog, Kiddo!”

All of his kids are embarrassed.

In the middle of a battle, he throws Kirishima at a villain and they both scream “YEET!” the villain afterwords forever lives in fear of the word ‘yeet’ because he thinks it’ll result in a human rock being thrown at his face.

Fatgum can’t text very well, because his fingers are just too damn big-

sonhsisntextsblooklikehthis'

Translation: so his texts look like this

you learn to understand his texts

Someone better get him a large tablet instead of a phone

If he gets married after he adopts the kids, there’s going to be a huge competition over who does the rings and who does the flowers etc.

If any of his kid’s ever bring home a romantic partner, you can bet your ass he’ll be all over them.

“What’s your average grade?”

“E-eighty percent sir!”

“And do you take sports?”

“No sir, I wish to be a biologist.”

“I see, I see...”

“DAD, YOU AREN”T INTERVIEWING MY PARTNER, ARE YOU? YOU SCARED OFF THE LAST THREE I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THAT AGAIN!”

“SORRY, KIDDO! I’LL LET THEM GO NOW! I’ve got my fucking eyes on you. Don’t screw this up.”

Hope y’all enjoy this, if y’all want I can write some headcanons for if Fatgum’s kid becomes a villain-

#fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum bnha #fatgum mha #mha fatgum #bnha fatgum #dadgum #fatgum as a dad #fatgum is a dad #daddy issues gang

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sineala · 3 years ago

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A Few Thoughts About Hurt/Comfort

I have been asked this month to make a post about hurt/comfort in Avengers comics. And I love h/c -- I actually have a massive number of WIPs right now that are h/c -- so I am very happy to talk about it! Anyway, this is not really all that planned out and this mostly turned into an excursus on Tony Stark's pain. I'm sure you're all surprised.

Like pretty much everyone else, I'm sure, I have found that everything lately has been... pretty tough. And the coping mechanism that really got me through last year and this year was reading and writing a lot of h/c, on the theory that, however lousy a day I'm having, I can absolutely make sure that Tony Stark has a worse one. And then I can make sure he gets hugs. Wish fulfillment? Why, yes. (Once at Hallmark I was trying to find a "get well soon" card, forgot what it was called, and described it to my wife as "a hurt/comfort card.") I think Marvel Comics -- the Avengers side, in particular -- is an interesting canon for h/c for a lot of reasons. Though, honestly, if you asked me to recommend you, a hurt/comfort fan, a new fandom, I would probably just hand you some Starsky & Hutch DVDs. Go watch "The Fix" and get back to me later. If you like that, there's way more where that came from. But there's still lots to love in Marvel! Superhero comics are really a goldmine as far as the hurt side of h/c. Because superheroes, and you probably have noticed this, get hurt a lot. They get hurt repeatedly, in fantastical ways that are probably impossible in real life both physically and emotionally (at least, I don't think anyone's invented mind control yet), and even the heroes without superhuman healing powers tend to get physically hurt a whole lot worse than actual people can take. Currently in Iron Man comics, Tony has a broken back and is dealing with this by locking himself into the armor as a backboard and injecting himself with massive doses of painkillers. He's busy! He's got stuff to do! He doesn't have time to lie around and heal! So, basically, if you name a kind of pain that you would like to see happen to a character, it's probably happened to superheroes. Multiple times. The downside, though, is that comics do not really deliver that well when it comes to the comfort part of h/c. They could. It's not inherent to the medium that they don't. But because of the serial nature of comics and also the fact the primary audience is dudes who want to read about people in spandex punching each other, a lot of the time they don't really feel the need to provide closure and write about people dealing with any of the hurt. (Raise your hand if you're still annoyed with the end of Hickman's Avengers run.) But at the same time, I think that's a quality that makes Avengers ripe for h/c fanfic. Because, generally speaking, fandom likes to provide the things that canon doesn't, and fandom is more than happy to provide the comfort. If you enjoy canonical h/c in comics, I think you really can't go wrong with Iron Man. One of the big innovations of modern Marvel Comics was the concept that heroes would also suffer from relatable human problems, and in practice what this means is that a lot of heroes start with a fully-loaded angst-ridden backstory and origin story, ripe for h/c. So Tony starts out by incurring a heart injury that he fully expects is going to kill him, which he responds to by vowing he won't get close to anyone so they won't be sad when he dies, and throughout the early Silver Age is constantly on the brink of death as his heart nearly gives out on him practically every issue. And then even after his heart gets (mostly) better, there are various plots involving his armor being detrimental to his health and him choosing to fight on anyway. It's hard for me to think of another superhero hitting that particular variety of h/c in exactly the same way. Sure, superheroes risk their lives constantly, because this is how superhero comics work, but Tony is the only one I can think of who is this constantly this badly off, physically. Like, think of all the other heroes who have had a continual solo presence as fan favorites across Marvel history -- Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, Wolverine, maybe even Deadpool. You know what those guys all have? Healing factors! For the most part, they are not running around continually on the verge of death, and while there are certainly memorable arcs involving several of them being severely injured and/or dead, you really have to work at it. It's not their constant state of affairs, whereas Tony is the kind of superhero who shows up to a fight already bleeding out under his armor. Yeah, I know Extremis gave him a healing factor. But he didn't have it very long, and also he did some extremely dangerous things while he did have it; I'm pretty sure I've never seen Wolverine saying that he'll just solve a problem by cutting off his own foot. So, anyway, yeah, there are a bunch of good arcs involving h/c for Tony. If you're looking for physical injury, he has a whole bunch of heart problems over the years, gets several new hearts, then ruins his brain, et cetera. That level of hurt is basically the background pain of Tony's life; every so often, his heart will get damaged or he'll have to live in the armor or the armor will be killing him, et cetera. If you're looking for more unusual trauma, I am, as always, going to rec Manhunt, a relatively obscure arc in late v3 (IM v3 #65-69) in which Tony has an extremely bad week. His tech is stolen and used to bomb a building. Then he gets shot in the chest. Then while he's at the hospital a nurse tries and fails to poison him, and she then tries to beat him to death. Then he checks himself out of the hospital and a helicopter shoots missiles at him. Then he becomes a fugitive from justice. And then, oh, yeah, he has to fight the Mandarin. It is... a lot. (Volume 3 of Iron Man is pretty good as far as h/c possibilities. You've got a lot of physical pain, Carol's drinking arc, the Sentient Armor, both DreamVision arcs, and Manhunt. Manhunt is finally supposed to be out in trade this month, by the way.) There are of course the drinking arcs, which probably count as their own type of hurt. But if you haven't read the second drinking arc (IM #160-200), please do. Marvel likes to up the stakes on events (Fear Itself, Secret Empire) by making Tony drink, and it does work, I think. I feel like I've spoken at length about Tony's drinking elsewhere so I don't really want to rehash it all here. And then there's the emotional pain. Angst and drama is something that happens to a whole bunch of characters, yes, especially in comics, but somehow Tony seems to end up with possibly more than his fair share of it. Fandom likes to make a lot of Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, so much so that you might think, if you didn't know canon, that this was just fandom running with a throwaway mention of Tony's terrible childhood and making it worse. But, no, canon really does go there with a reasonable amount of frequency. Howard's actual first appearance is in a flashback where he's ordering teenage Tony to break up with his girlfriend because she's the daughter of one of Howard's business rivals. And then we get into the verbal abuse, and the physical abuse, and the time Howard made Tony take his first drink, and the part where Howard was a demon in hell who Tony fought while he insulted him. And more! Currently, in canon, Howard is alive again and is in league with Mephisto for the express purpose of ruining Tony's life. Also when Tony was a baby, Howard tried to trade him to Dracula. I think you can make an argument that fandom is actually showing restraint when compared to canon. Tony also has a whole lot of Terrible Exes whose presence and/or former presence in Tony's life can be used for a lot of hurt. If you've read any amount of fanfic, you probably know that the exes who get the most play in fandom are Sunset Bain and Tiberius Stone -- not that Tony and Ty were ever canonically a couple, of course, but fandom is definitely enamored of this idea. Ty and Sunset both have relatively similar interactions with Tony in canon, in that they are both liars and emotional abusers, heavy on the gaslighting, with the purpose of becoming more successful than Tony. They both also attempt to murder Tony, although this is after he figures out they're evil, at least. (Yes, I know, this is not how either of them usually appear in AUs.) Tony also has a bunch of exes who also have just straight-up tried to murder or otherwise hurt him, sometimes while they are dating, and sometimes before Tony dates them: Whitney Frost, Indries Moomji, Kathy Dare, and Maya Hansen come to mind. There are probably more I'm not thinking of! But, yes, if you want to write about a guy in a series of terrible relationships, please consider Iron Man comics. If mind control is one of your favorite flavors of hurt, Tony's pretty good for that too. We all know about The Crossing. I suppose when I say "mind control" I mostly mean "armor control" because there are an awful lot of plots where someone else makes Tony's armor do whatever they want it to do and Tony is along for the ride -- Demon in a Bottle, Sentient Armor, and Execute Program are the first things that come to mind. There is also a fairly obscure What If that is What If Iron Man Lost The Armor Wars in which Justin Hammer apparently really wants Tony in a mind control collar to take off all his clothes and lounge around in his underwear. No, really. I think a lot of pain for Tony often revolves around his issues with control, generally -- his alcoholism comes into play here again. The entire aftermath of Civil War is also notable for its propensity to hurt Tony over and over and over. Is he stoically soldiering on through his grief after Steve dies? Hell, no! He cries, like, six separate times. He 100% blames himself for Steve's death. It's great. Everybody loves The Confession and the funeral in Fallen Son, but one of my personal favorites is Avengers/Invaders, in which Tony is confronted with a time-traveling Steve from WWII and in order not to screw up the timeline, he can't tell Steve he knows him. He is clearly not coping well. He shuts himself in a room with a giant wall of pictures of Steve! Also there's a part where he has to try to convince Steve he can trust him and he ends up having to tie Steve to a chair to talk to him, and Steve looks at him and asks, "Who did you kill to get where you are?" and I feel like that is probably one of the worst moments in Tony's life. No wonder he gave himself amnesia. So now we might want to ask, okay, but why is hurting Tony in fanfiction so much fun? I mean, I can tell you why I think it's fun. I can't speak for anyone else. One reason is that he is very emotional and very affected by everything he does. Sometimes you will see people complaining that the heroes of m/m fanfic cry too much and this is not realistic. This is not a problem if you're writing Tony! He can cry as much as you want and it's perfectly in character. I don't think it would be as fun to hurt him if he didn't express so much of his pain. But he does. He also feels guilty, and for me that's a very satisfying character element. If he were well-adjusted and didn't blame himself for so many things, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as watching him blame himself for everyone whose death he thinks he is responsible for, whether or not he is. And then he just keeps going, and it's, y'know, nice to watch him be resilient, too. So, I guess, I think hurting him is interesting because it's easy to hurt him, his weak points are pretty obvious, and he reacts a lot. Steve doesn't hurt quite as much as Tony does, in canon. It's certainly possible to hurt him -- I mean, they did actually kill him after Civil War, after all -- but I don't think the canonical patterns of hurting him are as numerous. Obviously deseruming Steve is a fairly popular go-to in terms of physical hurt; he's been deserumed at least three times that I know of. I think's easy to see the appeal there of taking a character who is fairly physically resilient and making him... much less so. Certainly Marvel seems to see the appeal. But other than that I don't think he has any other really common way to get physically injured. Unlike Tony, whose origin story is basically "oh no, I've acquired a disability," Steve's origin story is "I drank a serum that cured all my disabilities." Which, I mean, great wish fulfillment but there's not really as much there to poke at. Pretty much all of Steve's pain is emotional, but, unlike Tony, his pain isn't often specifically in response to someone directly, purposefully hurting him. Hickman's Avengers run is a big exception, yes. His pain seems to come up most often as a kind of situational angst. He feels like a man out of time. He feels out of touch with the modern era, with people his own age. He feels guilt because he feels responsible for Bucky's death. He feels like he can't trust the government and therefore he can't be Captain America. He worries that he doesn't know how to have a normal life. And, yes, these are deep and important worries but it's different than, like, Indries Moomji dumping Tony with the intent to make him sad enough to start drinking. Very few of Steve's villains want to personally ruin Steve's entire life the way Tony's villains do; mostly they just want to do things like bring back the Nazis. In terms of Steve's potential for h/c, I think Steve is harder to hurt than Tony is. Physically, he is definitely harder to hurt. You can deserum him, sure, but unless you want everything you write to be a deseruming fic you're probably not going to want to do that more than a couple of times. And if you want to hurt him physically while he has the serum, you have to hurt him hard. Usually past the point where a regular human would ever survive it. He's also harder to break, emotionally, than Tony is -- which means it's very satisfying when you can get him to break, but this is a guy who's only cried twice (that I remember) in canon. So if you want to get him to cry, you really, really have to wreck him, and he doesn't have as many obvious weak spots. He also doesn't generally sit around blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, and the whole "stewing in guilt" genre of plots for him basically came down to "he was sad that he thought Bucky's death was his fault," and that's really the biggest regret he seems to have, and also Bucky's not dead anymore. The Steve/Tony relationship itself, I would think, is also appealing to h/c fans because canon provides a lot of ways for them to hurt each other. Some people only ship pairings who would never, y'know, take turns beating each other half to death in major event comics. (And for a lot of Marvel Comics history, that was also Steve & Tony, so if you want them to be BFFs who have never fought, you can just set your fic earlier.) They have definitely hurt each other both physically and emotionally, so if you're looking for something easy and satisfying as a h/c fan, you can just read or write something where they... make up. What about Marvel characters other than Steve and Tony? Surely some of them are angsty, yes? Well, yes, but also it depends on the particular flavor of angst that you like. If you like the way Tony hurts, you may very well enjoy Doctor Strange comics, because they have a very similar attitude towards life -- they are both former alcoholics whose origin stories involve physical disabilities, who routinely make tactical decisions that negatively affect their continued existence and/or happiness a whole lot. It's very much an "I must suffer alone in the dark and no one will ever know what I am doing to save the world but it's the right thing to do" sort of vibe. Like, you can read comics where Strange is lying in hell with two broken legs, hallucinating that Clea has finally come to save him. Strange's biggest fear, akin to Tony's control issues, is basically that one day he's going to be an asshole again, so he's out there trying as hard as he can to do good. Also, if you like tentacles, he has all of them. I mean that. Carol also occasionally hits similar angst spots, and her drinking arc is great. A lot of people like Natasha, too; I have read zero Black Widow comics but I get the impression many people enjoy her brand of angst. The mutant metaphor is a little different in terms of overall vibe, but some people really like it as a source of angst -- the whole "protecting a world who hates and fears them" thing. It may not work for you, but if you like your hurt to include things like systemic oppression, go pick up some X-Men comics. Start with something like God Loves Man Kills. I feel like I liked this sort of thing a lot more as a teenager but that I kind of aged out of liking the mutants quite so much. It's also worth mentioning that not everything that hits the spot in one universe will be the same in the others, and I'm mentioning this because I feel like I have to say something about MCU Bucky. MCU fandom seems to get a lot of mileage out of Bucky's guilt about being the Winter Soldier, everything he was forced to do, et cetera. I have definitely read my share of those fics, and FATWS sure went right for that angst too. But as far as I can tell, he doesn't hit the same way at all in 616. And I like him a lot in 616; I'm always pleased when he shows up on a team. (He was so good in Strikeforce. Everyone was so good in Strikeforce.) But the thing is, 616 Bucky is, basically, phenomenally well-adjusted, given everything he's gone through, and I'm including the time he wrestled a bear in a gulag. He gets over having been the Winter Soldier, and now he's just, y'know, a guy with a cool arm who likes to bring guns to every fight to horrify his teammates, and he snarks at Clint. If you're looking for that angst, that is really not him these days. He's all better. So pretty much all that is canon. So what do we do in fandom for h/c? Well, as far as I can tell, a decent amount of it is canon-based or very canon-close -- there are a whole lot of stories exploring the angst of Civil War or Hickman's Avengers run. Tony's drinking comes up a fair amount, and if one of Tony's Evil Exes comes back to haunt him, it's pretty much only Tiberius Stone. I don't think I've read a lot of fic with Steve getting deserumed; it doesn't seem as popular in fandom as in canon. When Steve gets hurt, he tends to just get physically whumped pretty hard, and there's a fair amount of that for Tony too, but of course Steve can take more. There's also a thriving, uh, subgenre of pain involving Hydra Steve doing terrible things to Tony, presumably the terrible things he would have wanted to do to Tony in canon if Tony had had a flesh body. There's the usual kinds of h/c setups that appear in basically every fandom as well -- sickfic, whump, dub-con/non-con. You get the idea. But since fandom in general likes to take specific inspiration from canon, there's a lot of fic where the hurt tends to resemble things that happen more in canon. Like, I feel like comics fic probably has more tentacle fic and more mind control than canons that don't come pre-stocked with those. Probably everybody has a whole lot of "tied up by bad guys," though. And then, of course, fandom brings the comfort that canon does not. This is true in pretty much every fandom -- I mean, you aren't going to find a lot of actual canons where Character A saves Character B from mortal peril and then there's gay sex -- but, like I was saying, comics don't provide a lot of closure before it's onto the next thing. Usually with a different creative team, who has no interest in wrapping up anything from the last team. Steve and Tony talked about the incursions exactly once after Secret Wars and nobody mentioned the part where Steve spent several months trying to hunt Tony down and kill him. Tony is never going to remember the events of Civil War. Hydra Steve died ignominiously in a fire and no one has ever talked about him again. Honestly, if you're looking for a way to get some comfort in your fanfic, picking an event, any event, and just having the characters talk about it will be way more than any of them get in canon. I feel like honestly that can often be a pretty satisfying to read. And even though comics canon physically hurts characters pretty often and pretty badly, they also often skip right past the recovery. Maybe you'll get one page of a character in a hospital bed at the end of the story arc. Maybe you won't. Demon in a Bottle has one splash page of Tony going through alcohol withdrawal and then he's all better. I think Manhunt skips to Tony getting out of the hospital at the end. That's just not a story that they want to tell very often. The second drinking arc is notable in that it devotes almost as many issues to Tony's recovery as it does to getting him to rock-bottom. Similarly, Steve is done with his Nomad angst way way faster than you probably think he is (though The Captain does go in for a fair number of issues). So one of the things we often want to do in fandom is focus on all the bits that canon skips over, both in the "why did no one ever mention this story arc ever again" way and the "wow, so how long are they in the hospital after that" way. That's really all I can think of about h/c! I'm off to write some more of it!

#posts i actually wrote

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hobiwonder · 4 years ago

Text

Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie AU

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to.

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces. The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was. A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

#bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook fluff #namjoon fluff #ok hopefully this works #pls provide feedback i am hongry

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bakugoukatsuki-rising · 4 years ago

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I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!

So!

On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.

Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.

His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.

(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)

Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.

Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.

This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.

These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.

(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)

So! Next!

Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.

I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)

This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.

I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."

I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.

Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.

This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.

We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.

I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.

The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.

Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.

Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.

Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.

It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.

And lastly. The actual cover.

I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.

Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.

Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.

Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.

Theres so much regret and again, softness.

Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.

(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.

As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.

*dreamy sigh*

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.

Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!

You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it.

That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected.

These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions.

And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it.

The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.

To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one.

I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!

Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this.

#bnha spoilers #bnha #mha #bkbk #bakudeku #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #deku #bnha meta #bnha analysis #blackiee-is-heree #asks #basketball idiot #basketball idiot replies

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kingofhearts709 · 3 years ago

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Prompt: bill and ted give each other haircuts

hello yes im sorry this is late but this is adorable and im happy to write this excellent prompt ❤️

A/N: SO! this came out SO MUCH LONGER than i expected. like i was just gonna cute-drabble it but then my brain was like "NO PERFECT CONCEPT MUST EAT IT." snd I'm very happy to have written it all. im setting this at like pre-excellent adventure.

anyways i hope you have a lovely day and to please enjoy this little thing 💓"

---

Ted blew his bangs out of his face for the fifth time since he'd sat down on Bill's bed, trying to focus on his comic and finding the ultimate difficulty in reading between the long strands. His hair almost reached past his shoulders, and Missy's abandoned scrunchies were starting to look most intriguing.

Bill was no better. Every time he ran his fingers through his hair, they wound up tangled. There was no way he'd be able to handle brushing it every single morning, but the habit of messing with his hair was too ingrained.

"Dude, we need haircuts," Bill grumbled as his forefinger caught on a twisty piece of fringe. "I'm gonna look like a seventies disco dude." Ted snickered at that, and Bill thwacked his chest lightly. "Shut up, Ted, I'm serious."

"Well, my dad won't even pay for a good haircut," Ted huffed, dropping his comic book and blowing his bangs away once more. "If he did, it'd be a buzz." He paused for a moment before suggesting, "You don't suppose Missy could cut our hair?" Bill let out a laugh.

"I would be most doubtful of her skills."

"Okay, well... How much do haircuts cost?"

"More than we can afford." Ted frowned and looked down. "My dad would probably just tell me to cut my hair myself if I asked." It went silent for a moment before a lightbulb lit up in Ted's brain, and he bounced on the bed with enthusiasm.

"...Well, why don't we?"

"Why don't we what, dude?"

"Cut our own hair!"

The idea thrown out to the wind sounded more than insane. Neither of them knew the first thing about cutting each other's hair, let alone their own.

But the thing about Bill and Ted was that, as long as they did it together, it was more than enough reason to say why not?

"Ted, my friend, your idea is definitely most forward-thinking!" Bill complimented, jumping up. "We both know what each other's hair looks like, so we'll totally be able to replicate it!"

The wide grin on Ted's face was enough to break it, jumping up with Bill and looking around.

"I'll go get hair stuff," Bill said as he rushed towards the door. "You get a chair set up." Ted nodded as Bill bolted from the room, going to the corner to grab an old twisty chair that they never used. It still twisted, and was just about the right height for cutting hair, it seemed.

Ted was testing the chair by spinning in fast circles when Bill came back in with a pair of kitchen scissors and two huge towels. He swayed a little as he regained his normal vision from spinning, seeing that Bill was also carrying a spray bottle filled with water, a brush and comb, and a tube of hair product.

"I grabbed some other stuff from Missy's counter, too," Bill said as he dropped it all down on the bed. He picked up the tube and read it, "Something called...'Gar-near Fruck-tiss.' The instructions say it makes your hair smooth." Ted gave an intrigued head tilt before giving a nod and a smile.

"Well, dude, smooth me!" Ted joked, and Bill gave him a look before they found themselves air-guitaring.

Bill wrapped one of the towels around Ted's neck and shoulders, making sure he pulled his hair out from underneath. Bill leant down to assess it, squinting to see if it would help him decide on a course of correct action.

"How short should I cut it, dude?" Bill finally asked. Ted brought up a hand and hovered it palm down before holding it right where his chin ended as reference, and Bill nodded, picking up the spray bottle and spraying Ted's entire head all over until his hair went damp through.

"Bill, you are most concentrated," Ted hummed as Bill ran the comb through his hair to measure it down. It was already frayed from whenever his last haircut had been, it seemed. "Do you actually know what you're doing?"

"Uh...," Bill hummed, shrugging. "I used to watch my mom get her hair cut before when I was a little kid, I guess. They always wet your hair and then do this trippy snippy thing."

Ted snorted as Bill snipped the scissors a couple of times in the air before diving into Ted's hair, holding the length to cut off between his fingers and slowly scissoring away.

It was quiet while Bill worked on his hair, Ted doing his best to keep still, even if he really wanted to turn his head and see exactly what was happening. The only sounds filling the room were Bill walking around him and the snip of the scissors.

As soon as Bill cut off the last edge of Ted's hair, he stepped back and studied his work, furrowing his brows before grinning.

"Dude, I totally nailed you!" he exclaimed, and the redness to Ted's cheeks caused him to add on, "Uh- Your hair, I mean. It looks most bodacious." Ted looked around the room frantically for any reflection, and jumped when Bill held up a mirror in front of his face.

Bill really had done an excellent job. His hair was back to its regular length, hanging right around his chin. His bangs were still a problem, though, and he looked over at Bill and gestured to them.

"Oh, dude, yeah," Bill huffed as he dropped the mirror back where he'd grabbed it and picked up the scissors again. "Sorry, Ted, I forgot your main problem is your egregiously long bangs."

"They're like curtains for my face, duder," Ted hummed as Bill began to separate the bangs from the rest of his hair. He cursed when he grabbed too much of Ted's already-trimmed sections before Ted spoke up, "Oh, dude, grab one of Missy's scrunchies!" Bill raised a brow before following Ted's gaze to the bedside table, where about four of Missy's scrunchies were sitting. How they got there, Bill personally didn't want to think about it. Regardless, he went over to grab one and handed it over to Ted so he could pull his hair back and let Bill have full reign on his bangs.

"Where do they usually end?" he asked as he eyeballed possible measurements with his fingers. His face wasn't unreasonably close to Ted's, considering the circumstances, but it still made Ted nervous.

"Just, like, enough so I can see okay, I guess," Ted said, and Bill nodded as he took the comb and brushed his bangs even before sticking the handle in between his teeth and bringing the scissors up.

At this angle, Ted could see Bill's entire process as he watched his hair being snipped off. The way his face was scrunched in concentration, his gentle movements to make sure he wasn't tugging Ted's head any direction.

He didn't realise Bill was finished until he saw his reflection in the mirror when it was held up.

He looked good, if not better than before, with Bill's handiwork.

"How'd I do, dude?" Bill asked, and Ted reached up to touch his already drying hair. "Want me to put the Fruck-tiss in it?"

"Uh- Yeah, dude, sure." Ted looked over to see Bill grabbing the tube and opening it up, squirting a generous amount into his palm. "Do I have to wash it out?"

"Uh...," Bill turned the tube in his hand and scrunched his nose, shaking his head. "It says to leave in for fifteen minutes and your hair will be, 'smooth and sleek.'" He looked up. "Ready?"

"Yeah, Bill."

After a moment, Ted felt Bill's hands and fingers running right through his hair, keeping away from his scalp as per the instructions on the tube. It was smooth and gentle and overall intimate the way Bill paid careful attention to Ted's hair, running his fingers through. He might've put too much product in, but they could always wash it out if needed.

"Alright!" Bill said when the product was more or less incorporated. "You have been fully transformed into your most authentic self, my friend!"

"Dude, excellent!" Ted said as Bill took the towel off of him, trying not to get the hair everywhere (it already was, but that was beside the point). "My turn, Bill!" Ted stood up and took an exaggerated bow towards the twisty chair, gesturing for Bill to take a seat. Bill bowed back before dropping down and smiling.

Ted mimicked his actions from earlier, draping the towel around his neck and grabbing the spray bottle. However, Bill's hair was curly and almost like a jewfro, and he briefly wondered how he was going to cut it down.

"Dude, I don't think water is going to help," Ted said as he looked around at Bill's head. "You do have one stellar mullet now, but the rest is growing up." Hesitantly, he ran his fingers gently through Bill's curly hair, feeling just how insanely tangled it was. Bill briefly shivered at the motion, telling himself internally to just relax.

He'd already cut Ted's hair, so he should know what to expect, but still, the shock of actually feeling Ted's hands and fingers gave him the most unusual of feelings in his chest. He wasn't necessarily sure if they were nerves or emotions, but either way, it sent a shiver down his spine every time Ted's skin connected to him.

Bill bit the inside of his cheek as Ted stuck his tongue out and tested a single lock of hair, snipping off the end before grinning, nodding as he started to continue.

"Dude, it's like trimming a bush!" he laughed as he went all around, mimicking Bill once more by holding each lock between his fingers. Bill's blond hair fell and separated with each snip that the scissors gave. Ted's movements were slow and calculated, his genuine care for making sure he cut Bill's hair in the most correct way making Bill feel a little more than special.

It took Ted longer than it took Bill to finish up, giving a lock one last cut before jumping back and grinning as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, how is it?" Bill asked, gesturing. "Gimme that mirror!" Ted straightened up as he remembered, turning in a couple of circles before picking it up off the the bed and holding it up.

Ted hadn't done a terrible job, he had to admit. He turned his head back and forth, his smile growing as he saw Ted show up behind him in the reflection. He took a hand and ran it through his hair front to back.

It took Bill a second before he concluded that Ted forgot to cut off his mullet, and he grinned with a scoff.

"Dude, you totally missed the back," Bill said, his hand flipping the hair in Ted's view. Ted frowned as he stood up straight and tilted his head.

"Did I, dude?" he raised his eyebrows, reaching down to move Bill's away and examine it. "Bill, if I might be totally honest, you have always had this mullet, though I will admit it's much longer than normal..."

"No way, dude," Bill rolled his eyes in response. "Gimme those scissors." He reached back to grab the utensil from Bill's hand, a most dangerous risk. Ted, however, held back the pair with a grin.

"Dude, you'll be a total mullet-head!" Ted laughed as he turned and jumped up on the bed, knocking a couple of the items onto the floor. Bill spun around in his seat and looked at the scissors clasped wrong-way-up in Ted's fist.

Bill eyed him for a long moment before bolting up from the chair in a lunge, a total disregard for all those 'safety with scissors' rules from grade school. Ted leaped off the bed for the corner, Bill chasing him there. They could only run around in the small confines of Bill's room, so there weren't many places for Ted to go, nor space to make between himself and Bill.

It became apparent when Ted got onto the bed again and Bill fully tackled him so he had him trapped underneath.

Ted was still laughing even when Bill had him pinned by the wrists and was currently looking down on him with the most fondest of looks, a huge smile gracing his entire face.

"Dude," Ted said through chuckles as he flipped his newly cut bangs away from his eyes, "you look definitively bodacious with your mullet. I think you should keep it." Bill tilted his head.

"Ted, my friend, there is nothing in your head that could ever convince me." Ted let out a laugh before he looked at it over Bill's shoulder, comtemplating.

"I like it on you, dude."

It didn't take long for Bill's brain to immediately agree with that statement.

"You think so, dude?" Bill found himself asking, and Ted looked back to Bill's face, smiling with a nod.

"Most triumphantly." The words put a smile on his own lips, and the warm, butterfly-feeling in his chest was new but most definitely welcome as he squeezed Ted's wrists.

"Well, then, Ted, my most excellent and esteemed partner, I suppose I must keep it just for you."

#the king speaks #bill and ted #bill s. preston esq.#ted theodore logan #bnt #im so so so sorrh this took so long #ily 🎸#bill and ted's excellent adventure #bill and teds bogus journey #bill and ted face the music

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