#it’s not my fault there’s a fucking terrorist on the loose

[347-emeraldbitch]

Percy: I overachieved for what? All that work and it amounts to nothing!!! Almost killing myself taking every class all for it to crash and burn? I did everything right. I followed every rule!!! It’s not fair. I tried, I tried so fucking hard. Why wasn’t it enough?!?!?

Bill: I don’t know little brother.

Percy: I’m tired.

[graphicpepsi]

risk (nsfw, mdni)

OR: what happens when König gets bored on a mission and you just happen to be with him..?

König sighs, leaning back and adjusting himself for the third time in ten minutes. His sniper rifle sits loosely in his hand. Bored eyes scan the environment one final time before they land on you.

"Bored yet schatz?"

"No," You lied, "Just tired."

You had begged him for months to let you come on one of his missions. You wanted to see what a day at work looked like for him. And after months of trying (and months of the older man telling you it was too dangerous) he finally obliged and brought you along.

You wanted to match with him, so you wore camo cargo jeans and a black shirt. Even though he said this was a run-of-the-mill boring mission, adrenaline still coursed through your body at the feeling of it. König next to you, his giant arms holding a gun, the scent of his musk and cologne intoxicating in the confined space.

"I'm bored." He says as if it weren't obvious, breaking the silence. He lets the rifle fall down beside him as he stretches his arms out.

His eyes were trained on the open window infront of him. You were positioned on the highest floor of a nearby apartment complex. He told you his job was to watch for terrorists and shoot to kill.

You bounce your leg anxiously. König couldn't understand what excited you so much about tagging along with him, but it made him happy to see you like this.

Besides, you loved seeing him in his gear. Although you'd never admit it to him. To you, he was a gift from fucking god when he towered over you like that; tactical helmet, cartridges strapped to his chest, utility knives strapped to his thighs- it made him look twice as big, if that was even possible.

Watching his gloved hands unload & reload shells into his rifle could make you drool.

You look up to see his blue eyes locked on you.

"What were you thinking about, love?" He asks. His mask hides the expression beneath those unrevealing eyes.

"You."

"Ja?"

He has to be smiling, you think.

"You come on my mission to distract me?"

"You're distracting me." You correct him, " 'ts not my fault."

He pulls you closer to him in one smooth motion, his strong hands gripping your waist harshly. You're so close to him you can feel his mask move in front of you after each exhale.

"I distract you?" He repeats, tilting his head. His voice drips with knowing curiosity.

You don't try to hide the way your thighs squeeze together at the sound of his thick accent in your ear, the feeling of his giant hand on your side.

"Kö.." You breathe, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, pretty?"

You climb onto him, settling yourself down on his knee, your legs dangling on either side. He breathes out a low chuckle, like he can feel you pulsing on his knee or something.

"You want this, schatz?" He guides you back and forth on his knee with his hands, moving your body like putty, dragging your wet pussy along his thigh.

"Mmfh, please König," You bury your face in the crook of his neck, grabbing at his chest and shoulders for support.

He slides you back and forth, relishing in the way you roll your hips into his knee to get more friction. He presses you down firm as he pushes his knee against your pussy, dragging you up and down until you're a whining mess on top of him.

You're so wet but it's not enough to cum, and he knows it.

You whine into him, pathetically. "More," You try to hump his leg the best you can, but the minimal friction it gets you almost hurts.

"Poor baby," König murmurs, "Can't cum?"

You grab his shoulder as hard as you can, frustrated, even though you know he can barely tell. He grabs your hair and yanks your head out from his neck.

"Such an impatient little brat."

You roll your hips down into him as a response, mind a little hazy.

"Please Kö, so wet f'you." You mumble, looking into his eyes with puppy dog ones. He nearly growls at that. He loves when you get all riled up.

Before you can protest, he flips you around on his lap so you're facing the window, sitting in between his legs.

"Tell me if I need to shoot, ok Schatz?"

Your heart pounds at his voice in your ear, but even more so at the hand groping your pussy, thick fingers dipping into the waistband of your cargos.

"Wh- König, I don't know how to- oh, fuck."

He sinks a finger into you, sliding into your wet hole easily, like your pussy was made for his fingers.

He fucks it into you, slowly, curling it and then adding another one, then another one, and another one.

Four of his thick fingers pump inside of you, curling in just the right spot and vibrating against your pussy. He uses his thumb to press against your clit, pinching it and shaking it underneath him.

Just like that, you're reduced to a moaning, wet mess on his fingers. You lean your head back onto his shoulder, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he starts shaking his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out hard.

"König, Köni, I'm gonna cum, König-" He does nothing but speed up his hand at your whines, and it's not long before you're cumming on his fingers, creamy white seeping in between the cracks. He fucks you through your orgasm, slowing his hand down finally as he curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them slowly into you before taking them out entirely.

Your legs are vibrating, and if he wasn't supporting you you'd definitely fall.

He rests his hand on top of your wet pussy, the warmth of it making you moan. You're so sensitive that just the feeling of his rough palm against your puffy clit makes you whine.

"You gonna cum for me again kitten?" He rubs his palm roughly against your pussy before slapping it hard.

You bite your hand, muffling a loud moan because it caught you so off guard.

He spanks your pussy again, harder, "Get that fucking hand away from your mouth, brat." He slaps your cunt over and over again, your clit pulsing after each spank.

It only took a few rough spanks before you were cumming again, back arching against him with a loud whine.

"Sh, sh, good girl." He strokes your pussy, almost comfortingly before pulling your cargos back up and pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as you come down, panting.

"Oh, hang on."

He hoists his rifle up to his shoulder, takes a second to aim, and then pulls the trigger, sending a shot directly into someone's head.

"There we go."

He sets the rifle back down and pulls you back onto his lap, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

"You did so well, little liebling, good girl." He coos into your ear, stroking your back.

All you can do is nuzzle into him and try to catch your breath.

A/N: that picture made me FERALLLLL y'all wouldn't even believe how i was actin writin this like barkin woofin growlin grrrrrr gyatt DAMN is this man fine. If y'all want me to write sumth just lmkkk thanks for reading

EDIT: image credits belong to @loneghostwolf

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 1

Pairing: Soap x Ghost  

WC: 2k 

Synopsis: 141 has a new target for now. Soap is throwing out Gaelic and it isn’t his fault the dog barked, what is he supposed to do

Warnings: None that I can think of, this a slow burn so get ready to dig in for a bit

Things were different now, the team was back together. No longer were they split and sent to opposite sides of the globe. General Shepherd was in the wind and they had to be ready to go at a moment's notice the second he was found. There would be no time to meld together, to run practice sweeps through some training course. They needed to be out in the field together, getting used to one another again before they were expected to go after the man who had thrown them into the hands of a terrorist and set a madman loose. Until then though they were being deployed together, all over the world to countries whose very name was classified. Captain John Price, Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, Sergeant Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, and Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, the team was officially back together. Price was sat in a chair facing the wall where Laswell was currently projecting the image of a man. She had just finished explaining who exactly he was, apparently the leader of a terrorist cell who was currently in control of a heavily populated city. He had taken control of a twenty story building at the center of the city and the streets were now crawling with his men, young recruits joining up by the day only solidifying his power. He had become the de facto ruler of the city in the span of three days and not a soul around was willing to stop him, well except for 141.

Soap was near the back of the room where he always sat, pen in hand as it tapped quietly against his cheek. The dark haired Scotsman was watching everyone, well everyone except for Ghost who was standing in the corner just behind him. Soap's eyes found Price as the Captain turned his attention to the three men he was commanding, looking to each of them in turn. The pen stopped tapping as soon as the eyes landed on him and Price spoke, "Seems simple enough to me Laswell. You drop us outside the city, we get in quietly, take Suheil for interrogation, and extract," he glanced at Soap then who was looking anywhere but at the Captain, "quietly."

The room was awkwardly quiet until Soap finally broke and looked at the Captain who was still pointedly staring. The Scotsman’s eyes widened with pure innocence before looking between everyone else who had also shifted their gaze to him. His tone was full of confusion as he spoke, "What’re ye lookin at me for? I told ye all, that dog came out of nowhere! It isn't my fault he smelt one of your pungent asses and decided to investigate. What do ye want me to do about it?”

Gaz ducked his head looking down at his hands and holding in a laugh. The bloody brits were always teaming up on him, they always had something to say. Ghost was still leaning against the wall in the corner but he made no attempt to hide his snort before he said accusingly, "I told you back in Las Almas, Johnny. Kill the dog and repo, should've listened to me. What happened to you being better than me? Right shite in my opinion."

Soap looked back at the tall man with a narrowed gaze and what seemed to be steam coming off of his red face, "Oh give it a break will ye? We’ve all had our fuck ups and I’m not even the only one whose had theirs with a dog. I killed the big bastard, didn’t I? Maybe some of you should try washing between your ass cheeks next time and he won’t smell us."

Ghost let out a muffled laugh as he looked at the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. Price closed his eyes and then looked to Laswell who was holding back her own laugh and suppressing a smile behind a smirk, not even she was immune to the dynamics between the squad members. Especially when that dog had nearly compromised the whole mission. The Captain then leaned forward onto the table, looking down at a map of the city and the land beyond it before pointing to the map. "We'll infill here with parachutes, and leg it to the city. The outer homes have been evacuated, right Laswell?" 

He glanced at her as she answered, “Yes, as far as we know all families in the outer cities were evacuated to a refugee camp ten miles south of the city.”

The Captain nodded his understanding, returning his gaze to the map with a light sniff as he thought for another moment and continued, "We'll stay through the afternoon in one of the outer homes, we are only out at night, understood?" 

He looked to the men in turn to see their nods, all teasing was over now, their plan was their survival. Not only for themselves but also for their team members. If they failed to know what was going on and the part they were to play then they were putting everyone at risk and that was not something anyone in this room was willing to do. Price began outlining the details of the assault finally, "When the sun goes down we'll head for the center of the city, two teams. Team one will be me and Gaz, we'll take some men with us and assault the building directly from the south entrance here. We’ll cut the power when we reach the second floor and use thermal sights. We hit hard and fast, get Suheil and then get to our extraction point. Team two will be Soap and Ghost, you two will provide overwatch from here." The Captain slid his finger across the map to a spot five blocks over, tapping on a building before glancing to Laswell. "Can you get us blueprints of this building as well?”

Kate looked closer to see where he was pointing before answering with uncertainty, "Give me a second." She turned from the group as she opened her laptop. Price waited for a moment before Laswell looked up, "You can keep going Captain, I can multitask."

Price didn't need any other invitation to continue as he began outlining his thoughts, "When we grab Suheil we'll need a quick getaway. Ghost and Soap this building should have watch points three hundred and sixty degrees, if there are none inside the building move to the roof. You will be covering our exfil until the target is outbound." He glanced at the Lieutenant gesturing for Ghost to join him at the table. "Suggestions for extraction points?"

The big man pushed up from his place on the wall, stepping into Soap's field of view to look down at the schematics of the city. It wasn’t often Ghost stepped into the middle of the room, and he never turned his back on people. But he momentarily forgot Soap was sitting at the end of the table, and as he passed the Scot couldn’t help but stare. It was eye level, and even though the jeans were bootcut he filled them out in all the right places. He was nearly caught staring but glanced back towards Price as Ghost looked back at him, eyeing him for a moment before Price tapped on the table and caught the Lieutenants attention before Soap gave himself away.

The big man stared for a second, eyes moving subtly across the map before he pointed to an open plaza two blocks from the building Price had designated for Team Two’s sniper position. "If we're using helos this is a good place. They can set down and Johnny and I can provide sniper support much easier. But, we don't have control of the city and our mission is a snatch and grab. I suggest trucks and a rendezvous here," His gloved finger pointed to some of the supposedly abandoned homes of the city. “Team two can provide sniper support as you get the target loaded and out of the city. Then when you've extracted the target Soap and I can get to a second extraction point here," his other hand pointed to a place well outside of the city in the open desert without a home in sight. "We'll move through the city, quietly," his eyes flicked momentarily to Soap meeting narrowed blue eyes and the Scot could swear he saw the lips under that mask turn up in a smirk. "They'll never even know there were snipers. Sure as shite won't know where we were."

The Captain was nodding slowly in his agreement with the suggestion. His eyes stared down at the map for a few seconds longer before he looked up at Ghost, "Agreed. We’ll take the trucks and rendezvous at the same place where we slept the previous day. You and Soap will extract on your own. How long will it take you to get there?"

Ghost studied it for a moment and Soap scooted his chair closer to look before the deep, raspy voice spoke again, "I say a maximum of a day and a half, two if we get held up. Once we're outside the city we won't have to wait for night. We can cover that ground easily."

Soap looked at the distance and gave a nod of agreement, "Aye two days max. I'm always up for a race, Lt. I doubt you could keep up with me, I won’t be sporting a bullet hole this time Ghost.”

Again Soap swore he could see the smile under that mask before Price stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, "Ok then that’s how we’ll do it, don't be late Ghost. Leave Soap if you have to, especially if he hasn't learned his lesson yet. Quietly Sergeant, quietly."

The Scotsman held out his hands in front of him, palms in the air as he glanced at all of the people in the room with a look of incredulity, "One bloody time. I set a dog off one feckin time and you lot are gonna carve it into my bloody tombstone. Every one of you have fucked up before, why is it the bloody Brits only ever bring up my shite?”

Ghost watched him with crossed arms and before answering, “Because it’s fun. I’m surprised you’re still speaking English, Johnny.”

Soap bit his tongue and looked at the table, but he didn’t last three seconds before he shot back, “Shut yer pus, numpty.”

Now the smile was obvious in the big man’s eyes as he gave one of those quiet evil laughs you hear in a cartoon as it’s fading to black. “Careful Johnny, they’ll slap you with another insubordination reprimanding.”

Soap rolled his eyes so hard he swore he could see his brain back there somewhere. “Mhac na galla.” Another snort from Ghost but this time he held his tongue and looked at Price, “We'll be there Captain I can promise you that. I may not be quiet but we’ll make it that’s for sure. If there's one thing I've got, it's timing, and better knees than this big blaigeard."

Price was suppressing his own smile now as he looked at Soap. Trying not to laugh at his obvious cursing and disrespect, "Good, we leave tomorrow morning 0600, don't be late to that either Soap. We don't rebook flights here."

The dark haired Scot smiled then and nodded before he stood up, filing out of the room with everyone else to pack his gear and get ready to leave tomorrow. He may have been feigning a bad mood and anger in there but it was always for the benefit of the team. Sometimes everyone needs a laugh; he just happened to be the best at drawing them out. He knew that, it was a fact, yet something in the back of his mind still wondered if they really meant it rather than just giving him a hard time for a good time. It was always something that sat at the back of his mind, but those insecurities were written deep inside him and that’s where he kept them, no one needed to see that. He would be useless if they ever did.

[renaerys]

Has anyone said “38. That ass is highly unprofessional” for Reds yet? Because I feel like the comedy potential is enormous

38. “That ass is highly unprofessional.”

There are far too many good scenarios for this excellent prompt and idk if I picked the best one, but an effort was made. 🤡

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

Blossom watched from across the room as Brick fist-bumped the head delegate from the China team. He’d been cagey and weirdly subdued all morning, but the moment the unmoderated caucus began, he slinked away without anyone noticing. Anyone, that is, except Blossom.

“Russia? You were saying?”

Blossom snapped the pencil she’d been holding between her fingers. Denmark leaned back and slowly pulled the cup full of fresh pencils out of her reach. “What? Oh, right. I’m proposing we form a sub-committee to begin formal negotiations.”

“No way, we don’t negotiate with terrorists,” said Canada. “Terrestrial or otherwise.”

The United States stood up and palmed his fist. “Agreed. I say we nuke ‘em before they can nuke us.”

“Oh, sure, great idea, Rambo. This is Model UN, not Independence Day.”

“Wow, super in-character of you, Switzerland. Why are you even here?”

Blossom put up her hand. “We have no idea if the aliens are terrorists. I agree that we can’t discount the possibility of hostile intent, but violence should not be our opening move.”

“Crisis update!” A staffer handed Canada a red envelope, which she read aloud to the gathered students-cum-delegates. The aliens had parked one of their space ships on the Xi’an city wall, destroying a huge chunk of it and killing some civilians, and China was using it as justification to attack with full force.

“Oh my god, I think we might actually be in Independence Day,” Canada said.

“Recess! I’m calling for a recess.” Blossom left the table as the United States, Canada, and a gaggle of European Union countries began to squabble.

She found Brick talking to Israel and Argentina. The minute he saw her coming, he excused himself from the conversation and walked the other way.

“Brick! I know you saw me.” Blossom followed him to the all-gender restrooms, where he was fixing his hair in the mirror. “What are you doing?”

“About to take a gratuitous shit. You might want to get out of here.”

She grabbed his elbow and spun him toward her. “I’m talking about your side conversations. What were you doing talking to China without me?”

“Russia’s a big country, and you looked busy doing your thing. I’m just doing mine.”

“And what, exactly, is your thing?” She peered at him. “I swear to god, if that KGB comment this morning wasn’t a joke and I find out you’ve been threatening the other delegates behind my back—”

“Relax, comrade,” he patted her shoulder, “before you pop a seam in your pencil skirt.”

Blossom could not help but check out her ass in the mirror now that he’d brought it up. Of course, he was also checking out her ass, because he was an uncouth jerk who knew exactly how to get under her skin, and now Blossom was at an impasse. If she told him off, she’d be giving him exactly what he wanted, which was to make her snap and froth. If she did nothing, he’d still win with the knowledge that he’d pissed her off and gotten the last word in to boot.

Much like with terrorists, when it came to dealing with teenage boys, negotiation was not an option; the only solution was total annihilation.

Blossom placed a hand on her hip and stuck her ass out more as she examined herself in the mirror. “You mean, this pencil skirt?”

Brick’s smile fell in defeat like so many doomed German aggressors marching into the heart of Russian winter. “Obviously.”

Perish, you fool.

“Did you see a loose thread somewhere around here?” She turned slightly and ran her finger along the side seam of her skirt in an unbridled act of hormonal militarism. “Or was it on this side?”

Brick rested his weight on the counter because he was weak and cornered and they both knew it.

“No?” She smiled. “Just your imagination, then. We better get back to the conference.”

She made it halfway to the door when Brick hauled his wounded carcass away from the sink counter and desperately fired back with: “Disgraceful tactics, honestly.”

“Me? I’m not the one committing treason and encouraging intergalactic warfare.”

“Hey, I signed up for global warming and nuclear proliferation, not this made up Men in Black bullshit. If aliens attacked we’d just blast them ourselves, no negotiation necessary, we can all go home.”

“Oh my god, so you admit you intentionally sabotaged the exercise! I knew it. You are highly unprofessional.”

“That ass is highly unprofessional!”

“Stop thinking about my ass!”

“I literally fucking cannot after that!”

Blossom fumed. “Are you saying I’m asking for it?”

“I’m saying how dare you expect me not to think about how good your ass looks in that skirt!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it? Well, I’m so sorry for looking amazing in Western business professional!”

“Apology accepted!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

“Fantastic!”

“Wonderful!”

“Incredible!”

“Superb!”

“Glorious!”

“Brilliant!"

Blossom had at least fifteen more increasingly positive synonyms that she could have screamed at Brick, but Denmark popped his head in just as she was getting ready to shout stupendous at top volume.

“Um, hi. We’re taking a vote on what to do about the aliens and we need Russia’s vote, so…yeah.”

The vote was close and also meaningless, since China and several allies acted on their own against the aliens, who of course retaliated and gave the United States carte blanche to bust out the big guns. By the end of the conference, half the world’s population had been eradicated by nuclear weapons or alien technology. It was a complete and total disaster, and Blossom had no idea how she was going to explain it to her Model UN club coach when she got back to Townsville.

“Told you we should have just fought the aliens ourselves,” Brick said as they packed up their things for the flight back home.

“Please stop talking. It makes it harder for me to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Still wearing the skirt, I see.”

Blossom threw her water bottle at him, which was both very childish and very unsatisfying when he caught it. “I’m going to wear pencil skirts every day for the rest of the semester just for you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I dare.”

“I’ll drop out.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I’ll check out your ass every day.”

“Go ahead.”

“I will.”

“Great, because I want you to.”

“Great, because I want to!”

“I’m going to look so good!”

“I completely agree!”

They stormed out of the conference center together.

“See you on Monday,” Blossom said in her best die in a trash heap voice.

“You better wear a skirt,” Brick said as if he’d just invited her to jump into an active volcano.

“I absolutely will.”

“I can’t wait.”

Blossom swallowed a scream and took off flying, knowing she’d be there all day if he didn’t get the last word in.

xxx

“Dude, are you okay? You’ve been aggressively staring at Blossom’s ass all morning.”

Brick sucked on his straw loud enough to draw Blossom’s annoyed glance. “Fuck off, Harry.”

“Are you, like, into her?”

She turned her back to him and power posed with her hands on her hips, which was an extremely flattering angle and a high-key bitch move. “I despise her.”

Harry smiled. “Oh, cool! Cool cool cool… Hey, so I was wondering who I should ask to Homecoming—”

“No.”

“But I just thought since you don’t—”

“No.”

Harry finally fucked off.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[zemossunshine]

Sunshine Chapter 20

Pairings: Zemo x You  Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

Warnings for this chapter: Even more threats, non consensual drug use & manipulation.

It's not your fault I can't be what you need. Angels like you can't fly down here with me. Lyrics owned by Miley Cyrus.

--

Your adrenaline had finally caught up with you. You felt your hot blood pulsing all over your body. The six men waited in silence, they held their guns but didn't attack. They were waiting for something. You attempted to give them the same glare that Zemo mastered the one that demanded an answer. You knew Zemo would be doing the same. You knew that whatever happened they couldn’t take Bucky, he had been through enough. You flipped your hand and focused on the two men in front of Bucky Control. They grimaced and glared at you.

“You’re not taking him.” You growled. Zemo said you were a skilled negotiator, might as well try. The man stood in front of you spoke.

“Who says we want him?” He licked the top of his teeth. You flipped your other hand and pushed out to the two men in front of Zemo, they both hissed, but made no move to respond. The man in front of you gave you a playful smile, it was clear he was the one in charge.

“You seem like fun.” He raised his gun at the same time you heard a high pitched scream from behind and then all hell broke loose. A child! Why is he here? You ran towards the young boy, mentally shutting out the gun fire behind you. You scooped him up and hid behind a pillar of a nearby building, you crouched down to the floor, with the child in your arms. You had no idea if this child had parents or where they were. You didn’t want to ask just in case the worst had happened. The child clutched onto you and buried his head in your chest.

You had no means to get this child out of here, you couldn’t hot wire a car. You could run but the people attacking you had guns. You needed Bucky and Zemo, you held the boys head as he sobbed. You stood up and the boy screamed again. You looked for any obvious signs of injury. He looked up at you with fear in his eyes. His face was puffy from tears, he couldn’t form words.

“I know your scared, but I need my friends to get you out of here. I promise nothing will happen to you.” You tried to soothe him, he shook his head and buried himself in your chest again.

“Are you scared of the men I’m with?” The child nodded. Fuck. Some people saw the terrorist and the Winter Soldier, not the men you knew. You stroked his hair and stood up, the child gripped tighter, you shifted him around to your hip.

“Cover your ears and close your eyes. Do not open your eyes until I say so. I’m getting someone else.” You knew if this child saw what you can do, he would, if possible be even more afraid. He did as instructed and leaned against you. You stepped out from the pillar with your free hand raised.

“SAM!” You roared, he wouldn’t hear you, but he would over Bucky’s ear piece. A man was stomping in your direction. You clenched your fingers and he fell to the floor. He howled as you approached him. You took his gun and hit him as hard you could across the face, his head hit the floor with a thud. The child was trembling and you heard the distinct sound of wings swooping behind you. Bucky must have called Sam before you did. Sam encompassed you and the child with his wings and the shield. You pulled on the boys arms and told him to open his eyes.

You saw the wonder in the boys eyes as he realised Captain America had come to save him. You passed him over. He held onto Sam for dear life. Sam nodded to you and you raised the gun as he took off. Bucky was charging for you, but you saw Zemo over his shoulder. He was pulling his sword out from the leaders side. Blood spurted on the floor. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth and you scrambled to help him. Bucky pulled you back with his arms gripped around your waist. You kicked out, scratched his arms, screamed at him to get Sam back to save this man. Zemo had a satisfied smile on his face, no remorse, no sorrow, no guilt.

“He said he wanted you and Zemo just snapped, he lost it.” Bucky dragged you away.

“Did he kill them all?” You looked up at Bucky in horror, you were so focused on that one man, you didn’t look around.

“No, he didn’t.” Bucky picked you up as your legs weren’t quite functioning. You came across two motor bikes. He straddled you over the back and sat on the front. He hot wired it in silence. That is the second person Zemo had killed because of you. You just couldn’t understand why. There were other options. Your heart raced as you waited, you leant against Bucky’s back and calmed your breathing. When you heard Zemo’s coat flapping as he approached the other motor bike, you fought the urge to scream at him.

“Just as well, James it better suited to this task.” Zemo must have noticed that you were refusing to join him. You heard his engine roar to life.

“James, just so you aware, I most certainly do not need to make up for anything. Isn’t that right Sunshine?” Zemo was goading you, he sped off. You felt heat rise on your cheeks from shame. You were ready to snap.

“Bucky, shoot him.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bucky revved the engine. “Don’t scream to get off this time.” Bucky chuckled at the memory of you clinging onto him so many months ago. You gripped onto his shoulders as he pulled away. Bucky caught up to Zemo in no time, who was now wearing his purple mask, he was an escaped criminal in public. Both motorbikes weaved in and out of cars trying to get away or get back to the fight, you didn’t know. Your mind was still racing. You heard a crunch behind you, you crouched on your feet on the bike and lifted yourself up, you held onto Bucky’s collar to lean as far as you could. A second hummer. Crushing cars in it’s efforts to get to catch up. You pulled Bucky’s gun from his holster and readied yourself. There were too many cars between you and them, you had to wait, whilst watching them destroy and hurt people. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Zemo do the same. You spotted a fuel tanker.

“Sam.” You murmured into Bucky’s ear. You saw an exit for a bridge under construction and jerked Bucky’s collar in that direction. Bucky raised his vibranium arm to protect you as the signs tore apart passing through. You saw Sam fly over head, he took the hint and flew down to the tanker, he pulled the driver out, quickly setting him down and followed you. You gripped on tighter using Bucky as leverage you checked to see the hummer had taken the bait.

Red wing flew out and hovered next to you. You assumed this was the best plan, but to check you glanced at Zemo. He gave you a single nod and lined himself up with Bucky. You slowly stood up and aimed your gun. The bridge would collapse when you took the shot, Sam could fly out. The explosion would throw you off and then you would crash into Bucky. You couldn’t take that risk. Weighing up your options you made a choice.

You turned to red wing and gave it a sad smile. You couldn’t see Sam’s expression this far, but he would fly out when the time was right. You knew you would hit the target. Zemo taught you well. Zemo would be devastated but Oeznik would take care of him. It was just you or potentially you and Bucky. He would have to understand. You coat billowed in front of you. You wanted to feel sad, but you couldn’t quite manage it, if these three got out alive then that’s all that mattered. Red wing flashed a light at you and Sam flew out. It was time.

“Get Zemo out of here.” You knew Bucky would hear you. You pulled the trigger and stepped off the bike whilst closing your eyes. You felt something graze your ankle and then an immense heat wash over you. You had accepted your fate, welcomed it even. It wasn’t until you felt cold air whipping through your hair, that you opened your eyes.

“I’m starting to think you got a death wish.” Sam chuckled. You didn’t even think that Sam could catch you. You look down and Bucky was pulling up Zemo from the floor. Bucky must have known Sam would catch you, he did what you asked, he got Zemo. There was a huge hole in the bridge where the concrete and fuel tanker had fallen into the water. As Sam flew you closer to the ground, you could see the men in the second hummer being arrested. You did it, you stopped them. You had a wide grin as Sam touched you both to the ground with Bucky and Zemo. As soon as you saw Zemo’s mask-less face you knew that this light happy feeling was over. You put yourself in danger again and you knew what that meant.

You tried to ignore him as he walked away indicating for you to follow him, Bucky patted you on the back forcing you to move. Zemo pulled his sword out as he walked which he had managed to clean during your little escapade. You knew it was an intimation tactic. He would never. Your gut flushed white. He rounded on you and placed the tip on the floor. He balanced his now bare hands flat on the hilt. He moved far enough away so Bucky couldn’t hear you. His face held pure contempt. His pupils were dilated but there was no honey, just darkness. You tried to reach for his hand, but he moved away. So really mad? You just had to talk him down. You were alive, not a single mark on you. Should be easy.

“With the exception of that one life, I respected your wishes today. Accord me the same courtesy and preserve your own. Why is it every choice you make for yourself involves your demise?”

“I could have knocked Bucky off, I can’t let people die for me.”

“Everyone will die before you do.” Zemo declared.

You started pacing and started rambling.“ Zemo, I know what happened to your family was awful, but I don’t understand why I am the one paying for it, your obsession to make sure I won’t get hurt doesn’t make sense. You brought me here, you must have known the risk. You say you love me for who I am, you knew I would make that choice. I understand that you are upset but I’m fine, I’m right here and I’m alive. I did a good thing, I saved us. Those men are arrested, they aren’t destroying anything or hurting anyone now. I was in an impossible situation. What do you need me to say here? That I’m sorry? I didn’t mean it? I-”

“Do you enjoy having legs?” Zemo asked while pretending to look at his fingernails. You stopped dead. Your voice died in your throat, Zemo was looking at you quizzingly. “It’s a simple question. Answer me.” You swallowed and stared at his sword. It wasn’t sharp enough to do that was it? What is worse is you might just believe he would do it. No, don’t fall for this shit.

“Don’t threaten me.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“I don’t make threats.” Zemo spat. Then he straightened himself up. “I make promises. I’m presenting you with consequences. There will be repercussions for your actions today.”

“Here’s a promise, threaten me again and I’ll leave.” You folded your arms across your chest. Zemo looked you amused That fucking tracker. That is coming out today. “You know what, Bucky would never speak to me the way you do, can you hear yourself?” You could feel the rage build in your chest, you wouldn’t ever normally say something like that.

“No? So, it was not James who threatened to and I quote make you talk earlier.”

“HOW! How do you have an answer to everything! He still isn’t as bad as you.” You threw your hands up into the air. Just in this moment you swore you hated Zemo.

“You are right. Instead, James continuously manipulated your working patterns so you elected to reside in a prison. Where he could monitor you twenty-four hours a day.” Zemo smiled. Wrong. You fucked up. You matched his smile.

“You’re wrong, Bucky was upset when I told him.”

“Truly, your naivete knows no bounds.” Zemo exhaled sharply. “James reacted in the way you expected him to. You do not have to believe me. I know it to be true.” Zemo’s eyes darted to Bucky and Sam. The training with Zemo, dancing with Zemo. Did Bucky know? The lies. The fucking lies. How many talks did they have about me? You were ready to claw your own eyes out.

“You said Bucky wouldn’t lie to me.” You were ready to explode. Bucky lied, but what was worse, Zemo did too.

“You misheard me. I said he wouldn’t lie about Hydra.” Zemo really did have an answer to everything. I hate you both. EQUALLY!

“Pain is the only thing you respond to. The next time you do something like that, I won’t care how much pain you inflict on me, it will inconsequential compared to what you will endure.” Zemo growled.

“That’s funny. I can stop you.” You rolled your eyes and waved your hands in front of him.

“You assume the only pain you can feel is physical.”

“If you touch Bucky or Sam, I will take you back to the Raft myself.” You warned.

“I won’t need to. Though, if I may, it’s quite sweet watching you lie to yourself.” Zemo smirked.

“Done. Finished. End of conversation.” You turned on your heel.

“I strongly suggest that any thoughts of you asking Samuel to take you away never enter your mind. That is the only warning you will get. You do not want to find out what would happen if you did. You belong to me.”

“I am not an object. Stop saying that.” You rounded back to him, with fire in your eyes.

“You misunderstand me. You are not an object, you are my entire world.” Zemo’s voice cracked. Upset, not angry. You reached for his hand, but he moved away again.

“Everything you have stated, It almost sounds as if you are trying to absolve yourself of responsibility.” Zemo glared at you.

“NO, no. I would never do that.” You knew that was what Zemo hated the most and Zemo was right, you stepped off the bike. Maybe the plan was that Sam was always going to catch you, just without throwing yourself into an explosion. Zemo swept his eyes over you, his shoulders lowered.

“That is the third occasion I have had to witness-“ He inhaled deeply. “Do you have the slightest inclination-“ You could have sworn you heard him swallow a sob. You felt an ache in your chest.

“Your right, your right. I’m genuinely sorry.” You tentatively reached for his hand and this time he allowed it. Your heart broke for him. Zemo was right, you didn't know loss. It must be awful for him after what happened to his family. He was there for the box, the basement, when you turned a gun on yourself and today. He watched every time. All four times. You stopped rubbing his hand.

“Third? Who is trying to absolve themselves of responsibility now?” You quipped. Zemo lifted his hands and the sword clattered to the floor. You snatched your hands away and he started to shake. His chest was heaving, he looked up at you through his eyelashes and his pupils were completely blown. Fuck. Whatever composure Zemo was holding onto had just snapped.

“Leave.” Zemo sounded carnal. You took a few wobbly steps back and then turned and headed over to the one person who seemed happy to see you.

“Thank you Sam.” You wrapped you arms awkwardly around the suit. You pulled back and put on your sweetest voice. “When did Bucky know I was working at the Raft?” You hated that you believed Zemo but you just wanted confirmation. Credit to Sam his face didn’t move at all, but his eyes drifted to Bucky. Motherfucker. You pulled you knife out and jammed the handle into Bucky’s chest.

“You are taking that tracker out. Now.”

“Sure. Hold still.” Bucky pulled out his much larger knife with a glint in his eye.

“Buck.” Sam whined.

“What is wrong with you two today?” You looked in between Bucky and Zemo who had now joined you, he was holding a neutral expression.

“You.” They both answered.

“The tracker stays, Hydra might come for you.” Bucky put his knife away. Fuck that. You turned to Sam with a pleading look in your eye.

“They are both out of line, but they’re right. Someone,“ Sam glared at Zemo, “needs to know where you are.” With those words you had reached your bullshit quota for the day, which everyone around you was fulfilling with miraculous ease. They decided what’s best for you, even Sam was on their side. You took a step away and them immediately stopped.

“Did I hurt anyone?” You directed the question to Sam, you knew you would feel guilty about today’s events later.

“Nice to know you haven’t changed. And no.” Sam smiled brightly at you, you knew he was referring to Zemo.

“Not everyone can be manipulated.” You lifted your chin. Bucky and Zemo looked at each other. Bucky laughed and Zemo rolled his eyes. I hate both of you.

“Sam I’ll come with you, help clear up.” Anything but these two right now.

“You were kidnapped. There will be questions. Knowing you, you won’t have answers anyone wants to hear. Besides that hummer was a side project, I need to work out what they wanted. I’ll leave this for you to deal with Buck.” Sam took off.

“I’ll walk then.” Bucky called out. You didn’t think Sam could lift Bucky obviously you were wrong. Zemo intertwined his fingers with yours and gave you a soft smile, it almost felt like an apology, almost. He looked to the sky and his eyes snapped to meet yours. You felt a drop of water run down your cheek. The rain was soft. But the peace that washed over you was the same. You exhaled all of your anger away.

“This, it’s your freedom?” Bucky asked. You nodded.

“You chose this. Not anyone else?” Bucky held his hand out to catch the water. “You weren’t brainwashed. I couldn’t tell you and I’m not exactly the best person to help. Sorry.” Bucky took your other hand. It seemed as if the rain had calmed you all down. Bucky had to get back and you and Zemo needed to get out of here. The motorbikes were mangled but luckily there was a road maintenance vehicle up ahead. As you slid into the back Bucky muttered something to Zemo in Russian, Zemo glanced over you and thanked him. Zemo started the car with Bucky in the passenger seat. You beamed at them both Mission accomplished. Zemo subtlety pulled a needle from his pocket and plunged it into Bucky’s neck. Your stomach dropped and Bucky slumped in his seat.

“NO! No! what ever you plan to do to him. No!” You climbed into Bucky’s lap, he was still breathing but couldn’t move, you saw a slight fear in his eyes.

“I will not be doing anything. The Winter Soldier lives within James. It doesn’t have to, not anymore.” Zemo placed his hand on your knee. Your demeanour changed immediately.

“What do you mean?” You held Bucky’s head in your hands. Zemo smiled at you cunningly.

--

Zemo parked the car obscuring an deserted alley. You both dragged Bucky down as far as you could manage. You barely helped. Zemo grunted and wiped sweat from his brow.

“One day you will need to tell me how you survived this man.” Zemo pulled Bucky up into a sitting position and sunk another needle in.

“The sex or the box? How does this work?” You tried to move Bucky so he was comfortable to no avail.

“I accept James for who he was and who he is. The world is not so kind Sunshine. Your powers crave pain. James has ample amounts. But more importantly you want this. You can help him.” Zemo crouched down and gave Bucky a reassuring smile. Zemo didn’t answer how. You lowered yourself to your knees and ran your hands over his face.Nothing is happening.

“I believe you could only do this with someone you love. Love and pain Sunshine. They are entwined.” Zemo stroked his thumb across your lips. Kiss him? You didn’t feel entirely comfortable with that. You didn’t have permission and you were with Zemo. But if it meant the end of Bucky’s pain. Fuck it. Let’s try. Bucky’s lips were parted you gently lifted his chin to close his lips, that type of kiss was too far and you straddled his lap.

“The serum enhances what is already there. Try to avoid James. And Sunshine, this may upset you.” Zemo warned. You had seen footage but of course that didn’t include everything. You knew Bucky, not the machine, so it didn’t matter.

“Don’t let me, let go.” You stared into Bucky’s eyes and Zemo cupped the back of your neck. “I’m sorry Bucky, it won’t hurt.” You needed to verbalise an apology for the kiss. You kept one hand under his chin and placed your lips to his. Pain, find his pain. As soon as you tried to feel black Bucky shut you out. You pulled back. Bucky’s eyes were wide.

“Bucky please, let him go. I can end it for you. This is it. Let him go.” You stroked his face and waited for his eyes to soften. Zemo sunk yet another needle in. Bucky looked at you with hope in his eyes. Let’s do this. You closed your eyes and placed your lips to his again. You could sense the black within him now, Bucky kept it repressed. He was offering it up to you. Images started to flash in your mind.

A prison with his troop. Being beaten by Nazi’s. Zola. The serum. The burning in his veins. Red Skull. Falling. Snow. Cold. His arm being ripped away. Zola. Hydra. The arm. The chair over and over. Hydra. You started screaming against Bucky’s lips, but Zemo held you in place. You saw the chair again. Being beaten. Mocked. Hydra. Tortured. There were some images you couldn’t place. Your nerve endings pinched.

Frozen over and over, followed by the chair. Bucky didn’t even look at his targets after he took a shot or threw his knife. He knew he eliminated the target, without a second glance. Blood, so much it dripped from his hair. Steve, you pushed back, you weren’t here for that pain. With every smidgen of black you felt, you glow grew brighter. This was all you ever wanted, just to help. Make things better.

Killing over and over. In retrospect you got off lightly. Death. The mocking. The beatings. The chair. The Stark’s. Being beaten by the other Winter Soldiers. Attacking Shield. Hydra. Attacking the Avengers. The chair. Being on the Run. Zemo activating him again. The video tape of the Stark’s death. It was the shame that was the darkest. All of the shame. You took it all.

The fighting. The non stop, always a battle to be won, fighting. Nightmares. Screaming. Sweating. Panicking. You watched yourself go limp under him in the box. You watched as you walked up to Bucky in your room, he started to lift you up, you were about to wake up. Bucky threw you against the door, you looked terrified. This didn’t happen. Bucky twirled his knife in his hands.

“You want pain. I can feel it.” He lifted the knife to your neck. Bucky shut you out. You pulled back, you hoped you got all of it. You could feel your gut pulsing. You rested your forehead against Bucky’s.

“He’s gone Bucky.” You opened your eyes and gasped. Bucky’s eyes were so bright they almost blinded you, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. As you focused on them you could see your own reflected in his. More black flecks. Sweat poured down your face making you hair stick to it. Bucky’s eyes bounced between yours and his eye lids drooped. You could see a hint of sorrow behind his eyes. You figured it must be the Bucky that went to war as a young man, or his sadness from the nightmares about you. But you didn’t care you were floating, glowing.

Bucky’s head twitched and Zemo pulled you off, you both took a few steps back and Bucky fell to his side. Zemo kissed the insides of your wrists, he looked utterly mesmerised by you. You all waited in silence. Every breath of yours was airy. You heard a very faint noise to your left. Maria stood in the shadows, she put a finger to her lips, urging you to be quiet. She smiled again and raised her phone to her ear, then slipped away. Zemo tucked your hair behind your ears and frowned. You shook your head. Bucky shifted to sit up as you stepped back to him you noticed Sam approach before Zemo.

“Sam add me to the Sokovia Accords.”

“What can you do?” Sam asked. His eyes fell to the pile of discarded needles next to Bucky. Despite being with Sam all day he hadn’t seen you use your powers.

“Inflict pain.” You answered. You saw a whirl of red, white and blue spin towards you. You braced. Suddenly Bucky was in front of you and the shield deflected off his arm.

“That’s not - She didn’t. How?” Bucky was looking at you in wonder. You smiled at him as if it was the first time seeing him and in a way it was. You had never seen him look so hopeful, so peaceful, so happy. His smile was dazzling, Bucky was glowing, brighter than you had ever seen. Sam stepped up to you.

“What is that?” He looked around or the source of the pure joy in the air.

“Bucky.” You breathed out. You felt incandescent. Your powers could be used for good. Bucky lifted you off your feet and you giggled. Something occurred to you. You cupped his ear and spoke low enough so only he could hear you.

“You called Sarah, Doll. She got the nickname Bucky, you never gave me one. Call her. Do it for me.” You felt his stubble scratch your cheek as he nodded. He squeezed you tighter and you squeaked, not from pain. Bucky just seemed to forget how strong he was for a moment. Bucky set you down. Zemo picked up the shield and brushed his hands over it.

“I believe this is yours Captain.” He handed it to Sam.

“Call us if you need us, Bucky can find our number.” You didn’t know why you said it. But the look on Bucky’s face confirmed it. Zemo linked his fingers with yours. It was time to go.

“No Sunshine. The White Wolf will summon us.” Zemo used Bucky’s very recent name and now the Winter Soldier was gone, Bucky could fully live up to it. Zemo dropped your hand briefly to kiss both of Bucky’s cheeks.

“Goodbye James.”

Next Part: https://www.tumblr.com/zemossunshine/674089265755471872/sunshine-chapter-21?source=share

[dilly-oh]

Haircare no Jutsu

He’s wearing the red hair-tie today, Kakashi noted with satisfaction, walking down the hallway behind Iruka. An excellent choice. It perfectly accentuated the subtle reddish tones in his hair, highlighting them to perfection. His ponytail bounced with every step, the strands gleaming in the sun-rays cast through the nearby window.

Kakashi had been obsessed with Iruka’s hair for longer than he cared to admit. But hey, everyone had their quirks, especially Jounin. At least his didn’t involve green spandex and dazzling teeth. He was practically normal compared to the others.

He daydreamed about Iruka’s hair constantly, imagining running his fingers through the silken strands, pressing his face against them to smell their subtle scent. He imagined pulling Iruka's hair free from that cruel hair tie, brushing it till it gleamed, then separating it into three portions and twisting them into a thick braid. No, wait, a French one? He couldn’t decide. Still lost in internal debate, he walked closely behind Iruka, eyes glued to his hair.

Which is why he failed to see the loose tile jutting out of the floor in front of him.

Now, the Copy-nin of Konoha, feared by countless enemies and Missing-Nin alike, did not trip.

He merely attacked the loose tile with his toe, lurched forward for a better stance, wind-milled his arms about wildly to ward off any incoming attacks from enemies, and face-planted into the nearest object.

Which happened to be Iruka’s ponytail.

One time, while on an A-rank mission to Suna, Kakashi, half-dead from chakra exhaustion, had accidentally fallen into a patch of prickly cactuses.

This was worse than that.

Iruka’s ponytail was not soft and silky, fragrant and luxurious as he’d dared to dream. It was like a briar patch, bristly as hell, the strands broken and split and dry as a bone. Kakashi counted himself lucky his hitai-ate was covering one eye already so he only had to worry about losing the other one. This close, he could see the horrible split ends and flakes of dandruff with awful detail.

“Yeeeoooowch!!”

The cry echoed through the hallway, reverberating off the walls. Several heads poked out of doors to stare curiously, caught sight of Iruka’s face, and retreated.

“That’s my line,” Iruka grumbled, turning to confront him while rubbing the back of his head gingerly. “What the hell was that about?” Kakashi just gaped at him for a long moment, aghast, his hopes and dreams crumbling before him.

“Good God! Is my face bleeding?!” he blurted aloud.

“It’s about to be if you don’t start explaining yourself,” Iruka snapped back irritably, crossing his arms. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“It felt like I fell on a wad of steel wool!” Kakashi cried. “What the hell kind of hair product do you use?! Bar soap?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Iruka huffed at him. Kakashi felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life. “I use my three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body-wash.” The glimmer of hope promptly whimpered, curled up, and died.

“Alright. That’s it. I’m confiscating this,” Kakashi said, twirling the red hair-band around his pinky finger. Iruka’s hair immediately flopped down around his face, sticking out in all directions like an unkempt bird’s nest and further destroying every one of Kakashi’s secret fantasies.

“Hey!” Iruka cried in outrage, shoving his hair aside. “Give that back!”

“You’ll get it back when you learn to treat your hair better.”

“Whatever, I have like three more,” Iruka snorted, rolling his eyes. He reached into his pockets, searching for a few moments, then frowned in confusion. “What the…?” He looked up to see Kakashi twiddling his fingers at him, each digit encircled by a colored band. “When- how did you- give those back!”

“Oh, I will,” Kakashi assured him, “but I have some…demands.”

“You’re holding my hair-ties ransom. You’re unbelievable.”

“Firstly, you-”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“-let me wash your hair,” Kakashi finished.

“Ew. Why?” Iruka made a face. “That’s just an excuse to get me naked, you creep.” Kakashi huffed impatiently.

“You don’t have to get naked, just take your shirt off-”

“And then I’m already halfway there. Forget it.”

“-and then I’ll bend you over the bathroom sink and-”

“I SAID FORGET IT!” Iruka exploded, his face flushing a near-match of his hair-tie. “I have two jobs! I spend all day at the Academy babysitting children who are trying to kill each other, and then all night at the Mission Desk babysitting Jounin trying to kill each other. I don’t have time for stupid things like treating my hair with the ninja art of deep conditioning.”

“Then you’re not getting your hair-ties back,” Kakashi said with finality, squaring his shoulders.

“You know what? Keep them.” Iruka turned away in a huff. “I’ll just go buy more.” And with that, he stormed away. Kakashi narrowed his eyes.

“We’ll see about that,” he muttered, hands flashing quickly in a series of signs. Several clones puffed into existence and with a short word, dispersed on their newest mission.

---

“The HELL do you mean, out of stock?!” Iruka shouted at the store clerk in outrage. The man flinched back in fear, cowering behind the counter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ninja, sir, but someone came in not five minutes ago and bought the whole lot of hair-ties,” he babbled. “Every single one! We won’t be getting more in another shipment until-”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Iruka cut him off, mind working furiously. “I’ll take… rubber bands. String. I don’t care, I’ll buy it.”

The clerk simply stared at him in mute horror, eyes wide. Iruka sighed.

“…They bought all of those, too, didn’t they?”

“…Yes, yes they did.”

Iruka paused, a sudden suspicion dawning on him.

“This person didn’t happen to have ridiculous silver hair and a mask, did they?”

The eyes went even wider, threatening to pop out. “Please don’t kill me,” the clerk whispered.

“Calm down, it’s not your fault. I’ll just…” Iruka chewed on his lip, mentally mapping out Konoha and his other prospects. “I’ll try elsewhere. Thank you.”

But it was the same story at every shop in Konoha.

So Iruka changed tactics. Not that it made any difference.

It didn’t matter who he begged one off of (Anko, Ino, even Shikamaru, who rolled his eyes in exasperation, as if he wasn’t embarrassed enough already), within five minutes it had either magically disappeared or snapped for no reason and his hair flopped back down over his eyes, prickly and annoying- not that Kakashi had a point or anything.

Even his own home wasn’t safe. Iruka didn’t know how, but someone had snuck in and removed everything that could even potentially serve as a hair tie, even rags and bandages. Iruka suspected Kakashi had won over Naruto with promises of all-you-can-eat ramen. He had half a mind to bring his complaint to the Hokage herself, before realizing she would probably find it hilarious and cackle like a loon for hours. So, no. Better to just deal with it himself.

---

Iruka was a hard man to break, Kakashi would give him that. After a whole week of this charade and no sign of the sensei’s resolve weakening, he’d earned his respect. But it couldn’t last forever. He had to give up at some point. Everyone had their limit. Kakashi smirked, raising a hand to study the red band still wrapped around his pinky. Yes, any minute now…

“I’m not going to break, so piss off!” Iruka shouted from inside his apartment. Kakashi, who’d been sitting on the roof, jumped. The man was more perceptive than he’d thought. His respect went up another notch.

“You sure about that?” he asked, popping his head in through the window. It was Iruka’s turn to jump. Then he swore, grabbed him by the vest, and hauled him inside the apartment, which was just as messy and unkempt as his hair. Because, you know, two jobs or whatever. Kakashi caught sight of a pair of pink boxers splayed on the couch before Iruka spun him around to glare point-blank in his face.  

“What the hell do you even care if my hair isn’t perfect? Life is not a fucking shampoo commercial,” he demanded. Kakashi shrugged.

“I had expectations. Dreams. How dare you break my fragile, innocent heart.” He swooned and clutched his chest dramatically.

“I’m gonna break something else of yours in a minute.” Iruka scowled at him, stewing in fury. “It’s none of your business, anyway. My hair, my choice. Deal with it.”

“I refuse.” Kakashi glared right back, refusing to stand down. “It’s a matter of honor.”

“Oh, please! Like yours is any better!” Iruka burst out, stepping forward to plunge his hands into Kakashi’s thick mane. “You’re always out on a mission, don’t tell me you have the time to- merciful God it’s like I’m petting one of those fluffy Inazuka dogs.” Iruka stared at him in shock. “How the hell do you get it so soft and silky? Haircare no Jutsu?”

“Don’t be silly,” Kakashi scoffed. Iruka just gave him a flat stare. “…Alright, yes, I infuse my shampoo with a little chakra for extra volume. Sue me.”

“I’m considering it, after all the harassment,” Iruka muttered darkly, his hands still in Kakashi’s hair. Kakashi had to fight back a shudder of pleasure as his fingertips scraped across a particularly sensitive area. Finally Iruka removed his hands (Kakashi stifling a disappointed whimper) and frowned in consternation. “…I just have to let you wash my hair once?”

“Sure,” Kakashi answered with a nod. “…And then you are legally obligated to follow a strict hair-care routine dictated by me-”

“ONCE.” Iruka held up a finger, expression firm. “That’s it. That’s the deal. Then you leave me alone.”

Kakashi weighed his options. He could keep running around Konoha, using up his chakra on clones and buying up every bit of material that could serve as a hair-tie, following Iruka around till he was old and even grayer and broke.  

…Or he could just wash his hair right now and be done with it.

“Alright, fine,” he agreed. “Let me wash your hair and we’re good.” Rather than look triumphant like he expected, Iruka hesitated, biting his lip uneasily and dropping his gaze to the floor.

“…Promise you won’t take advantage of me,” he said, voice quiet and serious for once.

Kakashi solemnly placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

And then Iruka took his shirt off and Kakashi had never regretted making a promise more in his LIFE. He truly was that tan all over, with white scars scattered here and there like constellations, accentuating the toned muscles and hard flesh.

“Oh, wait,” Iruka said, “what am I thinking? You probably need to go to your place and get-” Kakashi wordlessly held up his shampoo and conditioner bottles. Iruka blinked. “…Of fucking course.”

---

Iruka’s bathroom was just as untidy as the rest of the apartment, half-empty three-in-one shampoo bottles and dirty clothes strewn everywhere. For some reason, the fact that he was a complete slob did nothing to detract from Kakashi’s burgeoning attraction to the man.

“If you please,” Kakashi said politely, rolling up his sleeves and nodding towards the sink.

“I am not tipping,” Iruka sniffed haughtily as he stepped forward. His eyes lingered on Kakashi’s bared hands and arms for a moment before jerking away. He leaned over the sink, which, thankfully, seemed large enough to accommodate an impromptu hair-washing. Kakashi turned the tap on, careful to adjust the water temperature to a pleasant degree, then eased Iruka forward into the spray with a gentle hand. The other man grumbled, but kept still as Kakashi thoroughly wetted his hair, careful to get every bit. When he was satisfied, he pulled out his shampoo and poured a dollop into one hand, paused, then poured some more. Might as well make it count.

“Hurry up, I’m getting water up my nose,” Iruka muttered, head still under the spray. “And water all over the rest of me, too.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Kakashi forced himself to concentrate on washing Iruka’s hair and not his glistening, muscled back. He sank his fingers deep into the dry, bristly hair and scrubbed gently, lathering up the soap, making sure to pay special attention to the scalp and roots.

The shampoo was his own special recipe, imbued with his own personal chakra for extra strength and luster. He rinsed it out after several minutes, then applied the conditioner. After one more rinse, he was done, and he stepped back, allowing Iruka to straighten. Kakashi turned away to find a towel, snatched the cleanest-looking one from a shelf, and turned back.

I’ve made a horrible mistake, Kakashi realized immediately. I can’t let others see him like this. He’s too beautiful.

Iruka on a bad day was a knockout. Iruka, gloriously shirtless and gleaming, with his wet hair pooling like ink around his face and shoulders, was a vision fit for the Gods. Kakashi stood frozen, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Unaware of the other man’s dilemma, Iruka raked a hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands off his face. Kakashi gulped, his throat suddenly dry and tight. A long, tense pause drew out between the two of them like a taut bow-string.

“What the hell are you waiting for?”

“…Huh?” Kakashi stared at him, blinking.

“Make a move already, you idiot.” Iruka stood there in his shirtless glory, arms crossed over his tanned chest, wet, glistening hair framing his face. “You’ve already got me half-naked and everything.”

Kakashi sputtered incoherently for a few seconds, shaking his head.

“I...I can't, I promised-” he choked out.

“Oh my God come here.” Iruka grabbed Kakashi by the front of his shirt and reeled him in like a prize catch. Kakashi did his part, gaping at him like a fish, wide-eyed in shock. Iruka scoffed, then leaned in close enough for their lips to brush teasingly. “I never promised not to take advantage of you, dumbass.”

Kakashi was not about to argue.

---

Years later, he still kept the red band around his pinky, right next to the wedding ring that winked in the sunlight.

-End-

Months ago, I was chosen to be a pinch-hitter for the Kakairuzine (I would step in if someone had to leave), so I completed two fics in case they were needed. Since they aren’t, I might as well upload them here. This is the second and final fic. Enjoy!

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Misc #7 for the sentence starters

ssadfjsdfjh I am YELLING I love this prompt

prompt: “If I die, I’m haunting you first” (from this list)

Read Eternity within a Second here on ao3

~~~

Nobody wants to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, it just kind of happens sometimes. 

He was just trying to deliver paperwork and a cup of coffee. Pepper’s assistant was sick, and when he ran into her in the elevator, she’d shoved the objects into his hand with instructions to give them to Tony as soon as possible. 

It wasn’t his fault that all hell tends to break loose at a moment’s notice in the Tower. 

Everything was fine when he set the papers down on the counter and handed Tony the coffee. None of that was an issue. 

The broken window though? Big fucking issue. 

“I thought the windows were unbreakable!” Harley yelled. 

“So did I, and I fucking designed them!” Tony yelled back. “JARVIS-”

“Your suit is on it’s way, sir. The rest of the Avengers have been made aware as well.”

“You’re the best, J!”

“Sir, this might be a bad time, but it appears as though the elevators are offline, and there are intruders approaching at multiple levels.”

Tony closed his eyes as his suit started wrapping around him. “Wonderful. Is it A.I.M? HYDRA? I wouldn’t put this shit past S.H.I.E.L.D on a bad day.”

“HYDRA,” Steve answered as he shot out of the stairwell with Sam, Nat, and Bucky in tow. “I had JARVIS pull up security footage. They’re bringing the fight to us.” He locked eyes with Harley. “Kid, we need to get you out of here.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” he muttered. “That’s gonna be a bit of a problem, isn’t it? I can’t leave if the elevators are down and there’s terrorists coming up the stairs.”

He watched Steve look out the broken window.

“You have got to be fucking with me.”

“We don’t have many other options, son,” Steve pointed out. “Tony-”

“Little busy, Cap.” Sure enough, Tony was already flying out the window to take out the drones attempting to shoot into the room. “Get behind something. The kid should be here any minute. He’ll be able to get him out.” He yelled for Sam to get into the air and dove under Harley’s line of sight. 

“The kid?”

“He means me,” a familiar voice said. “Need a ride?”

And then he was face to face with Peter Parker, one of his best friends in the entire world and the guy he had a crush on. The guy who also happened to be wearing the Spider-Man suit. 

“You have got to be fucking with me.”

“I’ll explain later. C’mon, hold on tight, I’ll get you to safety.”

“This is the worst day of my life.” He let Peter lead him to the broken window. “How’s this gonna work?”

“Well, I’m gonna need you to hold on to me as best as you can.” 

Harley wound his arms around Peter’s neck, and willed the blush away from his cheeks. At least he could blame his heartbeat on the imminent danger. “Good?”

“Perfect.” Peter pulled his mask over his face. “Now, ideally I’d hold onto your ass just so I know you’re not gonna fall. Are you okay with that?”

“You gonna buy me dinner, Parker? Shit, just get us out of here! I don’t care what you do.”

He tried not to focus on the arm under his ass. Watching Peter engage his web shooter was interesting at least.

…goddamn it. 

“Ready?”

The New York skyline was beautiful. Too bad he’s terrified of falling. “If I die, I’m haunting you first.” 

“Hey, we either die together or not at all.”

“Don’t even fucking joke about that,” Harley grumbled. He buried his face in Peter’s shoulder. “Alright, Bug Boy, just get it over with it.”

And then they were flying. 

Swinging. 

Whatever. 

Harley was fairly certain he was screaming, not that he’d ever admit it. 

It felt like eternity within a second when they finally landed. His breath was coming hard, and he was shaking so violently, he was a little afraid to let go. 

It occurred to him a moment later that he was probably overstepping a lot of boundaries. He was also crying. And Peter was rubbing his back, whispering about how he was okay. 

Safe. He was safe. 

He gingerly set his feet down on the ground like he wasn’t sure it was really there. Then he loosened his grip a little. It was progress. 

“Hey, this is my apartment. I’m going to open the window so we can get you inside, okay?” 

Harley nodded. 

“Can you stand?”

No. He nodded again. When Peter let him go, his grasp found the railing of the fire escape. 

Peter braced a hand against his back as he ducked through the window. “You’re alright. I’m right here.”

He stared at Peter from where he’d slumped into a desk chair. “You’re really Spider-Man,” he said in disbelief. 

His mask was off, but he looked down at the rest of his suit. “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”

Apparently Harley had more strength in his legs than he realized. He stalked forward, backing Peter into the wall. “You are a goddamn menace, Peter Parker.”

Peter looked up at him, mouth slightly open, flush high on his cheeks. He let his thumbs graze over his face. Harley hadn’t even realized he’d been holding him there. 

“Is this-?”

“Yes.”

“You’re incredible,” he breathed. 

The adrenaline rush he felt when they were swinging through the city had nothing on what it felt like kissing him for the first time. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Harley laughed. 

Peter just rolled his eyes fondly before pulling him back down for one more kiss. “I gotta go fight Nazis.”

“Mhmm.” He peppered his face with more delicate kisses.

“Harley…”

“Fine,” he huffed, but he let him up. “Go on then.”

He tugged the mask back over his face and stepped to the still open window. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Just as he was about to jump from the fire escape, Harley leaned out the window and shouted. 

Peter tilted his head in answer. 

“You owe me dinner!”

The eyes on the mask of the suit squinted, so Harley knew he was grinning as he dropped into the city to go be an Avenger. 

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 4

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1813

Rating:  E

Warnings: Blood and Serious Injures, talk of past miscarriage and red room fuckery.

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 4

“We could use a healer over here!”

Clint’s voice had come over comms, and you looked around the area trying to figure out where ‘here’ actually was.  You eventually spotted both him and Natasha with a group of children, sheltering under a bridge.

You took a quick looked around, and ran out from your hiding spot, vaulting over a stone fence as you charged in the direction of Clint and Natasha.  Gunfire immediately broke out and you caught a bullet in the side.  It slowed you for a moment as a hot pain flared out and then died back off.  By the time you reached Natasha and Clint, the only sign that you had been shot at all was a hole in your catsuit and some already drying blood.

“Think this might be above your abilities,” Natasha said.  She was cradling a young boy, and when you moved closer she moved her hand showing you where their leg now had broken exposed bone.

“Fuck,” you cursed, crouching down.

“She said a bad word,” a very young girl said.

“She sure did.  And right now you all have special Avengers’ permission to say as many bad words as you know,” Clint said, as he loosed a couple of arrows. “Ready… set… go.”

The group of children all broke out into random cursing and you looked at Natasha.  “I’m gonna try blood.  Pray to Thor that we match.  Can you get that bone back into alignment?”

Natasha nodded.  “Okay, malysh,” Natasha soothed and took one of her lives out of its leather holsters.  “This is going to hurt a lot.  But I need you to be very brave for me and hold as still as you can.  And when we’re done, we’ll make sure you get home safe with your family.  I promise.”

He nodded weakly and she held the leather holster to his lips.  “Bite down on this, little one.”

The boy bit down into the leather and Natasha quickly snapped the bones back into place with a loud and gut turning crack.  The boy screamed into the holster and passed out. You took the knife that the holster homed and cut open your arm.

You had been part of the Avengers for over three years now.  One mission had turned into many and you had gone from being a new recruit to a full-fledged agent.  You settled into life at the compound and the memory of a time where you were scared and didn’t know exactly how you could use your powers to help people.

You had friends and a routine and you dated on and off and when you were off you would hook up with Natasha and Clint because they were just that little bit too hard to resist.  Especially when you’d just gone through a breakup.  You considered them your best friends and you loved their relationship dynamic.  They were hilarious together and their way of showing affection was so perfectly them.

Most of your missions were with one or the other or both.  The closeness had made you be able to work like a well-oiled machine together, being able to predict each other’s patterns and counter each other.  This particular mission was a big one though.  A small town in the Midwest had been attacked by domestic terrorists and the whole team had been sent out to stop it.

As your blood mixed with the boy’s, nothing seemed to happen.  You cursed the stupid limitations of your powers and you were just about to let your own wound close back up when you noticed the bones and flesh knitting back together on the boy’s leg.  You had to keep twisting the knife in your own wound to keep the blood flowing and your hand was beginning to shake from the pain.  As the wound closed you let go of the knife and your own cut rapidly healed.  Color returned to his skin and his eyes fluttered open.

“Thank Thor,” Clint sighed.  He turned back to look at the kids like he was planning what the next move should be and there was a crack from a bolt of lightning behind him, making him jump

“You can save the thanks for when I have actually helped,” Thor teased, playfully.  “Come, your extraction has arrived.”

A huge armored vehicle pulled up at the bridge and the side opened.  Clint ran to the side of the truck and began loosing arrows out past it, creative cover.

“Come, little ones,” Natasha said.  “Onto the truck.”

You and she herded the children into the vehicle, carrying the injured boy into the back and putting him on a stretcher.  When you were all safe inside, Clint climbed in and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Hold tight,” the agent driving called back.  Clint sat down on one of the benches as the truck took off much faster than you expected.

“How close are we to being done with this?”  You asked as a little girl climbed up into Clint’s lap and clung to him.  He wrapped an arm around her and held her steady as the truck bounced over the rough terrain.

“Captain Rogers is mounting an assault on the last remaining group now.  Shouldn’t be much longer,” the agent called back.  “You were the last group that had been cornered by them.”

“Thank god,” you sighed and let your head fall back against the wall of the truck.  You immediately regretted it, as it banged against metal.

You sat back up and watched Clint with the little girl.  She had calmed down and was gradually drifting off to sleep against him.

“Clint looks really good with kids,” you whispered to Nat.

She nodded.  “Yeah, he’s a natural with them.  I think because he is basically a giant child.”

You snorted and bumped her with your shoulder. “You were good with them too.  You guys gonna have kids someday?”

Natasha frowned.  “Can’t,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, but the slight strain giving away her pain.  “We want to.  But… the Red Room did something to me.  Having children creates weakness, so they sterilized me.  But… not… I mean… I have been pregnant but it ended up in a late-term miscarriage.”

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you said.  If it was anyone else you would have wrapped your arms around them and let them be weak.  Natasha would rather stab herself in the eye than let that happen though, so instead, you leaned against her a little, hoping that your weight might be comforting and allow her to be strong.  “Have you ever considered adoption?  Or surrogacy?”

She nodded.  “Surrogacy is out, it’s something about the genes.  They have a self destruct in them.  We applied to adopt but were told in no uncertain terms that no one is allowing an ex Russian-assassin adopt a child.”

“That fucking sucks,” you said, not quite sure what else you could say.  It did fucking suck and you wished there was something you could do.  You weren’t used to hearing that crack of pain in her voice.  It was akin to seeing Wanda in actual tears.

Natasha laughed softly.  “Yeah.  It does.  I’d love to be a mother.  But I guess for me, that isn’t to be.  I have escaped what the Red Room did to me.  I’ve tried making up for it.  I send money to the families of my victims.  I save people.  But they will always have this over me.”  She sighed and looked over at Clint.  “He says he’s okay with it.  I know that he would never complain about missing out, but I hate that my past has taken this from him too.  When he called me to tell me he met a healer that day when he met you, I got a little excited.  I thought… I hoped maybe you could undo what they did to me.  But that’s not how your powers work.”

You shook your head.  “I’m sorry.”

She rubbed your thigh.  “Not your fault.  You didn’t do this to me. They did,” she said. “Just have to accept that maybe after everything I did, I have to just be happy with the ending I get.  I am lucky I have him.  It’s enough.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about the things Natasha had said on the way back to base, through the cleanup, on the ride home, and through the entire debrief.  Your powers couldn’t help fix what had happened to her.  Even if you gave her a full blood transfusion they couldn’t fix something that had been done to her so long ago.  You needed an exchange of fluids and it to be fresh.

Normally a surrogate wouldn’t work because whatever they’d done kicked in late on in the pregnancy due to genes.  But if you were the one that was pregnant, the issue wouldn’t be old, your powers would be here, correcting mistakes and potential health issues before they happened, and as far as fluids, they’d be soaking in them, and sharing your blood supply.  You didn’t know for sure if it would work, but the more you thought about it the more you were sure it would.

You thought about what it would be like having a baby for someone else.  It took a special kind of person to agree to put their body through that for almost a year and then to give that baby up.  It wasn’t for everyone and it would be hard, both physically and emotionally.  Clint and Natasha were your best friends and you might be the only chance they had to have kids together.  If you could give them that, you wanted to try.

After the debrief, everyone scattered to their rooms or apartments to sleep it off.  You couldn’t turn your mind off and so after half an hour of pacing your room, you went to Natasha and Clint’s apartment and knocked on the door.

Clint answered the door and looked you up and down, grinning.  “You didn’t get enough of us this week?”  He teased.

“I just… I wanted to…” You shook your head and took a deep breath.

“No offense, dorogáya,” Natasha said, coming over to the door.  “It’s been a long week and Clint and I just want to have some couple-time.”

“Right, yeah.  I’ll leave you to it,” you said, tapping your hands nervously on your thighs.  “I just… I wanted to say…”  You took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.  “Let me do it.”

“Let you do what?”  Clint said, putting his arm around your shoulder.  “Babe, what’s wrong?  You’re so worked up.”

Your eyes flicked between Clint and Natasha.  You didn’t know why you were so nervous.  This was a nice offer.  If they said no then they said no.  “Natasha,” you said.  “Nat.  Let me carry your baby.”

// NEXT

[blakelywintersfield]

As a victim of gun violence myself, I will be keeping my guns, thanks. Fear mongering? Maybe a little bit the fact is politicians absolutely “hell yes I want to take your AR15, your AK47”. They’ve said it often and loudly that they would like you to be disarmed. If you feel no one in your home is mentally stable enough for a gun, great, but you have zero right to tell others they should do the same.

1. If you're a victim of gun violence then the NRA gives absolutely NO fucks about you. You're not a victim of gun violence in their eyes, you're a victim of a criminal who happened to have a gun. Calling it "gun violence" is liberal propaganda to blame the gun, instead of the person. The gun didn't create the violence, the person did. That's their shitbrained logic and that's how they would respond to you if you told them (without disclosing if you're a gun owner or not) "I was a victim of gun violence." Because just like your dumb ass, they're not responsible gun owners, they're reactionary gun owners, and if you're reactionary as opposed to rational, you shouldn't have dangerous weapons, and your "you can't tell me what to do" 5-year-old attitude towards that would not hold up in a myriad of other scenarios. By your logic, suspending the driver's license of an elderly individual with dementia is unconstitutional. Not allowing someone with chronic seizures to drive is unconstitutional. Not allowing people to sell food without meeting safety and sanitation standards is unconstitutional. "You can't tell me what to do 'cause muh freedumb" isn't a fucking part of the constitution, you're just a chronic nationalist boot deep-throater whose mommy told him that the world owed him everything.

2. Where did I say guns should be taken away from you, or anyone else in my tags. Where? Here, I'll post the fucking screenshot of it and you can highlight it:

Please show me where I said "people should have their guns taken away" you reactionary cowardly fuck. I'll wait.

3. Politicians stating "no one needs a stockpile of AK47s" is not synonymous with "we want to take your guns". Gun buy-back programs that are VOLUNTARY are not the same as threatening to "take your guns". What benefit would you, as one person, gain from owning 5 semi-automatic weapons in the argument of "self-defense"? Are you going to wield one in each hand, one with each foot, and one with the mouth you can't seem to fucking shut? Do you think any of these weapons would protect you against government militia (which is what the second amendment is FOR, for one, and which the NRA does NOT condone if it's conservative sanctioned militia takeover) breaking into your property with a force of 10 people in bulletproof gear and military-grade weapons that could probably blow your fucking empty head off your body in one shot? Or do you like owning all of these shiny scary-looking toys for intimidation, thinking it'll protect you from future violence, like a fucking Halloween house made to scare away children? If that's your reasoning, then you definitely need therapy because that's textbook maladaptive coping with trauma -- I'd know because I have my own array of self-defense weapons that I got in response to my traumatic event, including a knife that could fatally gut an adult man with one stab. That's not a reasonable response to trauma!! But at least I can admit it! Your pisswad ass on the other hand can't, and views anyone saying "the NRA is a shit organization that doesn't support responsible gun ownership or the responsibility of gun owners and their actions, and is essentially a domestic terrorist grooming organization" as an attack on you as an individual, because you can't stomach the idea that maybe, just fucking maybe, you may be on that list of people who shouldn't have a gun because you're too mentally fucked up to be trusted with something like that, like people who are chronically suicidal (in other words, the MAJORITY OF GUN RELATED DEATHS), people with psychotic tendencies that can lead to hurting themselves or others (not because people with psychosis are "scary evil people", but because those moments of psychosis literally keep a person from making rational observations and decisions, and these individuals are already advised to have possible harmful tools locked up or just not in the house for their own safety), people like incels that believe if their entitlement is denied that they have the right to murder, etc. Honestly, you do sound like someone who shouldn't have guns, because your unstable ass probably read up to the second tag and skimmed the rest in a blind rage before sending an ask two days after I made that post, and seemed to conveniently miss the end:

What's your reasoning for the NRA keeping silent about responsible black gun owners being gunned down by police because the cops know they're legally registered gun owners (Jason Washington, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, whom the NRA defended being murdered by police while pulled over for a traffic violation, in his car with his wife and CHILD, and verbally informed the cop like a responsible gun owner that he had a conceal and carry permit, and was reaching for his wallet in plain view of his family and the fucking pig)? What's your reasoning behind them callously dismissing police violence against black people who are unarmed or have a history of supporting gun control (Botham Jean, Clementa Pinckney, fucking JAMES SHAW JR., WHO STOPPED A MASS SHOOTING WHILE UNARMED HIMSELF), as though that makes it their fault they were murdered, injured, or otherwise victimized? What's your reasoning behind them only piping up about "muh guns" whenever politicians say "there's a gun problem" after the 29th public shooting that month, but not tackling the issue of gun control disproportionately impacting people of color while letting crazy little white kids run loose with a multitude of firearms? What's your reasoning behind them siding with idiot fascist Trump's temper tantrum over the NFL's protests on police violence -- something they, once again, consistently respond to with "they should've been armed" if the black person wasn't, and give complete fucking radio static to if the black person was armed (even if legally armed)? They're so against gun control, but never seem to care when it affects black and brown people -- only when Jack Incelson, age 16, who posts on 4chan about how he wants to cut women's heads off and fuck their dead bodies, is at risk of not being allowed to keep his AR15. If people of color are killed while armed, it's justified because "they had a gun"; if people of color are killed while unarmed, it's their fault because "they should've had a gun" -- this is something the NRA is notorious for, because they don't give a flying fuck about people who should have the right to arm themselves.

4. On that point: I fully support the Socialist Rifle Association, even as someone who does not want to own guns -- because, as stated in the post you're shitting your diaper over -- I support organizations that vouch for responsible gun owners. The SRA holds irresponsible gun owners accountable. They actually support people's right to bear arms to defend themselves against tyrannical government forces. They are active in disaster aid, in environmental defense, in protecting people of color. I do not like guns but I 100% support the SRA, because they fight for people who do need to arm themselves to have that right, and I support that sentiment. I believe people of color should be able to arm themselves. I believe queer people should be able to arm themselves. I believe poor people should be able to arm themselves. But the NRA doesn't actively fight for any of those groups' rights -- the SRA does.

But you know what the SRA doesn't do? Send out unsolicited letters begging lower-middle-class white people for money so they can "fight the gun-hating liberals" from "taking away our guns n freedumb" and offering "i <3 guns" bumper stickers and shit in return. They don't view any political party as their friend because they know that Republicans and Democrats alike do not actually want you to be able to defend yourself against the government. They don't send fear-mongering letters full of hyperbolic bullshit to scare people into thinking that Biden or Obama or whatever Democrat is in the office is going to break into your house with police, beat your wife and children, and steal your guns while cackling maniacally over you as you sob "why mister president? why would you do this to your loyal and patriotic citizens?" The SRA opposes gun control laws that unfairly target demographics that are at the highest risk of police violence. The NRA does not, and, in fact, has a very heavily documented history of siding with conservatism, including making statements about things that don't even involve guns -- stating that American men are being turned into "second-rate women", outcried banning anti-queer discrimination and compared the ban to slavery, made a call to imprison people protesting against Trump's Cabinet picks, called the Women's March anti-American. These are all recent you shithead, so you must be purposely ignoring all of this to feel justified in defending this domestic terrorist organization, or you're probably a self-victimizing white man who can't handle being told no. Or maybe both. I don't know and I don't fucking care.

Don't fucking message me again. Unfollow me if you were previously following me and haven't already. Get some fucking therapy instead of crawling through strangers' blogs trying to find a reason to justify your irrational anger at them. And while you're at it, do me a huge favor, you cowardly fucking cunt: go to your nearest sex shop, buy 5 gallons of lube, pour them over your guns, and shove each and every one of them, fully loaded, up your ass. That way you can keep a close eye on them since your head is obviously already lodged up there.

Alternatively, you can eat shit and die.

[se-ono-waise-ilia]

Hinata’s New Toy Chapter 2

Summary: Kiba has some new thoughts about his beloved kunoichi after her breakup with Naruto. Hinata has new thoughts about Kiba too. Mature & smutty content, NSFW.

Read chapter 1 here on fanfiction.net

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

----

Incessant knocking sounds startled Hinata as she lifted her head from her pillow. The need to squint her eyes indicated it was a sunny day, and the pounding of her head indicated she was extremely hung over. Reaching for her clock, she noticed it was 7am, Who on earth could that be?

Lifting her fingers to perform byukugan, she felt a wave of pain that went straight to her forehead, I suppose this is what peep holes are for.

Bracing her hands on the bed to push herself up, she noticed her beloved new toy was still there. Unwashed. The almost always appropriate heiress crinkled her nose in shame at the white crusty bits clinging to the silicone.

The awful sound of her door being beaten continued. The person behind it did not demonstrate the common courtesy of announcing oneself. Thinking it best to not clearly indicate she was home, she silenced the groans of discomfort she yearned to make, and tip toed to the door.

"Open the door, Hyuga. I'm here on behalf of Naruto."

It was Uchiha Sasuke.

Hinata thought ill of very few people, but the one person she could say that she truly wanted to call crude and inappropriate names was Uchiha Sasuke. She never liked the way he looked down at others as a child, and envied how easy most skills came to him. After he joined Team 7, she was concerned about the way he treated Naruto, and jealous that he soaked up all her crush's attention.

Now she understood that the intense relationship between them was just a precursor to, well, their current relationship.

Then of course he betrayed the village, joined a terrorist organization, then reconnected with Naruto and was announced "good" again, but went traveling, and then came back to steal her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, she was still correcting herself.

"Hinata," was the only explanation she got through the door.

Fortunately, there was a mirror by the door that told Hinata to re-do her bun, which she quickly did as the admittedly afraid kunoichi opened the door to the ex-terrorist/ boyfriend thief, "Uchiha-s-s-san."

Oh, how she hated how meek her voice was when she felt insecure.

The blast of cold wintery air was warmer than his presence. He look extremely inconvenienced, "Naruto said I need to apologize to you."

Hinata couldn't decipher if it was the pounding hangover headache or the audacity of this entitled man that had her internally fuming, Apologize?! For telling me to "get out" so rudely when I arrived to see Naruto. Or stealing him from me. Although, it's not like Naruto was completely innocent. He LET you act that way and it only took him over a week to decide something should be done about it. Where's Naruto then?! He's the one who was complicit in your rudeness and didn't respond to my break-up note in any way, shape or form. As if us breaking up was nothing worth discussing. Why isn't he here now, apologizing alongside you. The fucking nerve!

Alas, Hinata didn't say any of these rational thoughts. All she could muster was a simple, "Oh."

The 25-year-old wasn't one to say what she really thought regarding uncomfortable and negative situations. Avoiding personal confrontations was a key part of her social strategies (work related confrontations were another matter, the structure of the ninja work culture made her feel more comfortable voicing her opinions). And when involved in a social confrontation of the harsh sort, her strategy was to say or do anything to deescalate the problem at hand to make the entire confrontation go away as quickly as possible, even at her own expense.

So no, she regrettably did not demand answers regarding Naruto's absence in this matter, nor did she call Uchiha Sasuke the asshole that he was, is, and will forever be.

He seemed irritated at the awkward silence that he likely thought was her fault. Hinata tried to inhale the heavy lavender scent that always permeated her apartment, but was startled to find her apartment had many other contrasting smells to it that weren't entirely calming.

Memories of last night flooded her hurting head. Feelings of embarrassment, shame, and anxiety went straight to her nervous system.

Sasuke must have notice her nose twitch amongst her other symptoms of freaking out. He sniffed, and looked repulsed, "Your apartment smells like lavender, female genitals, and dog."

The blushing nin couldn't help but nod her head in a shocked, mortified daze. She wanted to breathe heavily (three count inhale, six count exhale), but Uchiha was right. Her usually spa-like apartment did smell like ... those things. The lavender and dog notes actually weren't new. But the middle part, how embarrassing!

Scrambling her known social strategies for a way to deescalate, she chose to change the conversation to focus on someone else, "N-naruto's place smells like stale ramen and sweaty men's clothing."

It wasn't intended to be a dig, but Hinata found herself proud that it came out with that tone.

For her efforts, she was gifted the response of an agreeable scoff.

To keep this remarkably successful change in conversation going, "It's worse when he makes clones. That one time he did sexy no jutsu in the apartment, it was overwhelming."

It came out so fast she didn't even stutter. It also came out so fast, it took her a moment to realize what she had implied. With significant terror, she looked into Sasuke's eyes to see accusatory confusion, "Explain," he demanded.

Vigorously shaking her poor hungover head, "I-I-I should air out the ap-p-partment and put on proper c-c-clothes."

Suddenly, one specific memory from last night came to the forefront of her mind. She squeaked with an even higher level of mortification as she patted her shorts, No underwear, oh no, "Kiba!" she squeaked and started to fan herself as a hot flush of embarrassment took over.

She was sure Sasuke was still looking at her with unnecessary critique, but no longer cared. The fact that she gave Kiba not just her panties, but her worn post-vibrator panties, with the implicit specific purpose of him smelling them while he...

Hinata leaned against the doorframe as she started rubbing the spot in her hand that was an anxiety reducing pressure point.

"If I get Inuzuka, will you convey to Naruto I apologized... and will you explain the sexy no jutsu incident?"

She found herself staring into his mismatched eyes, blinking in confusion. He nodded, then teleported away.

What just happened? Did he leave? Or is he going to get ... oh no!

Slamming the door in a panic, she used chakra enhanced speed to open all the windows in her apartment, put all used laundry into a basket with a blanket covered over it as at least some form of scent containment, sprayed an obscene amount of perfume on it (peony scented), put the still unwashed vibrator and lube into her nightstand drawer, and rushed into a shockingly cold shower with her toothbrush. Not knowing if she'd have enough time to wash her hair, she left it up as she hastily brushed her teeth sans paste, and scrubbed herself raw with lavender & vanilla scented soap.

The aggressive knocking at her door minutes later startled her, resulting in her hair getting an unplanned rinse, Maybe it's just Sasuke. He'll have to wait at the door.

"Hinata!" shouted a voice that was absolutely not Sasuke's, "Are you OK?! This asshole pulled me out of bed and said you needed me. I'm coming in!"

Informing Kiba of of the location of the emergency key was now a deeply regrettable decision.

Hinata managed to hastily throw on her luckily modest bathrobe before Kiba burst through the door. Then the bathroom door. Only garbed in pants.

He sniffed her, gave her a quick body scan, turned off the shower, then grabbed her cheeks with his warm hands to aim her face up towards his, "Are you OK?"

Even though her cheeks were already flushed with the exertion of prepping her apartment and the cold from both the open windows and the freezing shower, Hinata knew she was likely turning a strange mix of blue and beet red, Kiba cares about me and he's so handsome.

These observations weren't new to Hinata. Kiba has always cared for her safety, and he was objectively a ruggedly handsome man with an intentional curation of impressive muscles. But since last night, Hinata all of a sudden felt attraction to these qualities.

"Hinata-chan?" Kiba asked again, rubbing her loose wet tresses out of her face with his gentle fingers.

Gulping, she managed to nod. Her shirtless friend let out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, He was actually worried something had happened to me. It was just a misunderstanding. I'm sorry you felt scared on my behalf, Kiba.

She felt herself sink into his warm and dry body, feeling the dusting of chest hair tickle her cheek.

"Our deal?" Sasuke interrupted their moment. Hinata truly hated that man. As much as she loved that this weird situation brought Kiba to hold her, the poor nin had to run through the cold without shoes nor a top in fear that something was wrong.

I never agreed to any deal with you, you presumptuous rude man. You never even actually apologized. And I have no desire to discuss your sex life now or ever. I hope Naruto spills boiling hot ramen on you. A whole bowl, she mentally insulted him with all her might.

Alas, she kept it all inside. A growl vibrated from Kiba's chest as he tightened his grip on Hinata. Honestly, the flushed girl was more than happy to allow Kiba to demonstrate anger and resentment on her behalf, as he often did, "What the actual fuck, Uchiha?"

Hinata also appreciated that while she had extensive internal private thoughts describing her more negative expressions, Kiba was able to edit it down into concise and direct phrases.

"Tch," the awful man emoted, "Naruto sent me here to apologize-"

"And did you?!"

Sasuke paused, then directed his eyes to Hinata, "I apologize."

Kiba rolled his eyes, "Asshole."

Hinata couldn't help but nod in agreement against Kiba's delightfully firm pecs.

"Hinata, please explain the other part now."

"What's this fucking deal?" Kiba barked at him, tightening his hold on her. Possibly in a protective manner, or affectionate. Or both. Either way, Hinata was in heaven being held by a shirtless Kiba who was also talking back to the scariest ninja in the world without a hint of fear.

Sasuke narrowed his mismatched eyes, "She accepts my apology and gives me information, in return she indicated a need for you."

"Me?" was the detail he prioritized. Burying her head into his chest seemed like the best response. Her hands may or may not have found a comfortable resting position on his obliques.

"I have places to be, Hyuga," it sounded like Sasuke was gritting his teeth in annoyance. In Kiba's arms, she felt safe ignoring him.

Kiba growled during most conversations, but he was particularly consistent in this one, "No, she does not accept your apology. Not like yours matters to her anyway. Naruto's the negligent ex-boyfriend who didn't appreciate her, and let his new boyfriend toss her to the curb on his behalf. Fuck you, Uchiha. Go deep throat Hinata's ex."

Kami, did Hinata want to drag Kiba's face down to her face and give him the hottest kiss of her life, like the ones she reads about in romance novels. And her robe would just happen to fall off during this steamy kiss.

The aroused girl wanted to keep this fantasy going, but she knew if her body reacted, Kiba would definitely smell it. So she finally looked to Sasuke, and felt all sexy vibes disappear.

Sasuke didn't seem affected by Kiba's excellent speech, nor did he leave. He was doing that thing where he glares at people while thinking through his next move. Always intimidating, even when he's simply thinking.

Kiba had no time for that, "Kami Uchiha, what will it take for you to not be a prick to Hinata and leave?"

Folding his arms, "For the information I seek from Hinata, I will use more courtesy in the future."

Then he scanned Kiba's body with a look of ... appreciation?

"Is there any practical application of exercising your body to feature that many abdominal muscles?"

Kiba must have been surprised, as Hinata had to restrain a whimper of loss when he separated his sinewy body from hers to look at his own stomach. Not growling for the first time in this conversation, "Ninjas don't really benefit that much more from them, I just do the extra exercises and diet to make them look this way," he eyed Sasuke mischievously, "You checkin me out, Uchiha? What will Naruto think of that?"

Sasuke blushed, and it was Hinata's absolute favorite face he had ever made. And then he pouted, pouted, as if his pride withheld him from saying what he really wanted to say.

"Full offense to your pride intended, I'll teach you the exercises some other time if you leave," Kiba grinned as if he was absolutely confident in his ability to win this confrontation.

With extreme reluctance and minimal eye contact, Sasuke nodded.

Kiba made a shooing motion, but not before Sasuke looked to her with expectance.

Covering her face with her hand, "Just have him do the jutsu, but stay in his male form."

Sasuke only blinked with a "Hmm," before teleporting away.

"He's the actual worst," Kiba sighed, "but having him check me out was the weirdest ego booster. Is it OK if I hate him slightly less for it?" He looked to Hinata for approval.

She embraced the chance to blatantly check out Kiba's body herself.

Kami, he is ripped. In her line of work, she's exposed to fit men all the time. But Kiba...he did the most creative sorts of crunches to sculpt his body.

She felt her mouth salivating as her eyes drifted further down to where a V shape made an arrow to his manhood. The trail of hair helped guide the way, but that V...

She noticed he shivered, and realized all her windows were open and wintery air was coursing through her apartment. Shaking herself out of her inappropriate staring, "C-c-ccould you c-c-close the w-w-w-windows while I-I-I get-t-t dressed?"

Her stuttering was doubled by the clattering of her teeth as she felt ice-like hair penetrate her skin and frigid air wrap around her exposed skin.

He shook his head in a dog-like manner, and left to do her bidding.

The freezing girl shuffled and shivered to her bedroom and closed the door. The need to be warm overcame her sexual cravings that had dominated this past week. Ripping through her dresser, she donned her warmest shirt (dark purple), leggings (light purple), and socks (sparkly dark purple). The long-sleeved shirt clung to her curves in a flattering manner, so she resisted to the urge to cover herself with a heavy sweater for the possibility of ... does Kiba like my body? I don't quite know if he covered his eyes last night, oh Kami, why did I do that?

Her hair was an inconsistent mess of wet and dry, so she restyled it into the thousandth messy bun of this week.

Worried for the comfort of her half-naked teammate, she went to the travel section of her closet to pull out an extra change of clothes for Kiba. He used to have this endearing habit of forgetting climate changes when they traveled as genin, and Hinata brought backups for such occasions.

But that was when they were still teenagers. Before Kiba filled out. With broad shoulders and a trim waist. Unsure if the old black sweater and socks would fit, she hesitantly exited the safety of her bedroom in her warm monochromatic clothes.

All her windows were secure, and Kiba was in her kitchen with the kettle on the stove and his face buried in her tea box.

"I don't know if this still fits, but..."

He smiled smugly at the sweater, "You can have that, Hinata-chan," as he took the socks.

Her half-naked friend seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her and her body. Feeling slightly rejected, she chose to use a tactic she often read in her favorite steamy novels: putting on the male's clothes. She tugged the black sweater from Kiba's younger years over her head, and found it snug around the chest.

Alas, her tactic seemed to fail as he swiftly turned back to the kitchen without a second look, and brought his face unnecessarily close to the tea box. Why was he taking so long to pick his tea? Hinata then felt shame at her previous thoughts, Oh no, I'm so desperate for him to give me the savoring look I gave him earlier. Does he feel awkward about last night? We did drink a lot, and I said a lot, and I seduced him maybe a little, took off my pants and panties...

Holding her groans of embarrassment within, she used her social strategy of picking a neutral topic of conversation, "Where's Akamaru?"

Holding a bag of chamomile tea extremely close to his face, he continued to avoid eye contact, "He'll be along soon enough. I yelled to him to bring my travel bag to your place while he was growling at Uchiha," he scrunched his eyes closed and ran his non-tea-bag hand though his gorgeous bedhead, "Kami Hinata, when he showed up, I thought the worst. Uchiha is an asshat, but the missions he deals with are serious shit. More horrifying than ANBU shit. Seeing him and hearing your name..."

Hinata went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Forgetting her attraction to this man, she simply held her teammate of near thirteen years in the most soothing manner she could think of, "I'm OK, Kiba. It was a misunderstanding. A very strange misunderstanding. I'm so sorry."

He covered her arms wrapped around his middle with one of his. Speaking with almost a whisper, "You're important to me. So important," and he gently squeezed her wrist.

Tears lined her eyes. She felt touched he cared this much about her. Hinata returned Kiba's squeeze around his middle, "You're important to me too."

The moment was sustained until the tea kettle whistled, as did Hinata's anxiety that always found ways to interfere with beautiful moments.

Her anxiety brutally made her realize she should be ashamed for desperately throwing her body at one of her dearest friends last night and earlier in her bathroom.

Kami, last night she treated him as a ticket to her next orgasm. Not the kind and caring teammate she held in her arms.

Letting go of her friend, she moved to the couch to smother her face with one of her less embroidered pillows, I did that awful thing I read about in books when the self-serving girl treats the man who's crazy about her as a dick to ride rather than a person. How shameful.

And where her anxiety failed to punish her, the miserable hangover picked up the work. In addition to the pressing headache, her stomach growled with an uncomfortable hunger for greasy and spicy food.

Fortunately, Kiba was one of the few people who was familiar with hungover Hinata. She heard a mug being set on her coaster on the coffee table, followed by the clamoring of pans and cabinets. How on earth was Kiba the better host out of the two of them? Not only has he spent years adding decor to her apartment with gifts, he also cleaned her kitchen last night for Kami's sake.

Not feeling quite closed in on by all her mental, emotional, and physical feelings, Hinata dragged her weighted blanket on top of herself and curled up into a ball.

----

The next thing she knew, she felt a tentative hand rubbing her back through the heavy blanket, the smell of spicy fried rice filling her nose. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, Did I fall asleep? Was it a dream?

Upon clearing her eyes, she was treated to the site of a shirtless Inuzuka making the table with two bowls of steaming fried rice with lots of red chili flakes decorating the surface, "Kiba?"

"You fell asleep. Itadakimasu," he chuckled at her before shoveling rice into his large, oh so large mouth.

Might as well be a dream, she mused, forcing herself to have a sip of tea and sit properly for a meal, "Itadakimasu."

The scrumptious mix of fried rice and egg with spicy seasonings allowed Hinata a period of peace she hadn't known in the longest time. Meals from these past few months have been overcome with unresolved tension, the pain of denied and buried emotions, or the misery of loneliness.

But not with Kiba. Although he didn't have the most sophisticated culinary skills, he made the basics with that laid back feeling that all too often eluded Hinata. He balanced her so remarkably well.

With that thought, about halfway through her bowl, Hinata actually did succumb to her emotions. Dropping her bowl on the table, she attempted to cover her face as hot tears poured down her cheeks and her body shook with the waves of loud sobs.

A pressure dropped the couch cushion under her as warm and safe arms enveloped her.

She didn't know if the break up had finally sunk in, that the man of her dreams was an underwhelming disappointment as a boyfriend. Or, if it occurred to her that the artificially inspired orgasms this past week via her vibrator and unrealistic romance novels had been empowering and delightful, but also a fantasy unlikely to come true.

Or, the terrifying realization that Kiba meant everything to her.

And she didn't want to treat him as eye candy, her next orgasm, her rebound, or anything of the things that she had been treating him like since last night.

She wanted him to officially be her everything. But she already fucked that up with her impulsive, drunk, and lust clouded actions.

Needing to atone, she turned her body around and wrapped her arms around his neck with a possibly suffocating hold, "Kiba!" she cried. Sorry wasn't a word worthy of his heartfelt ears regarding the way she had treated him. So she cried his name over and over again into his hair as he held her with a proportionally tight grip, his face also buried in hair. She might have considered loosening her strong grip if it weren't for the encouraging way he cupped the nape of her neck, as if telling her to stay as long as she needed.

So she stayed, and cried until her sobs regressed into deep breaths, until her tears had stained her cheeks and she found herself blinking away the few remaining, until she realized Kiba had been rubbing her back with soothing circles, until she realized his other hand was squeezing the back of her neck in an effort to ease tension, until she was able to focus on Kiba's heartbeat as a calming beacon.

She felt herself melt into his arms as the last of her tears fell. And that's how they stayed for an unmeasurable amount of time.

When she felt stiff from the way she had been clinging to him, Hinata slowly released her arms and sat back on her haunches to fix his tear stained hair. She met his eyes and was surprised to find they were lined with silver, as if he too had needed an emotional release of his own.

Hinata brushed a lone tear from his eye with her thumb, and he leaned into her touch. She felt herself breathe shakily at the intimacy of his reaction.

Kami, she wanted to kiss him. But...

Wiping her cheeks and nose with the sleeve on her other arm, "Kiba, last night was ... I don't want you to think," he looked into her eyes with the wary search for something she couldn't identify. Hinata needed to finish a sentence, so she chose the one thought that truly counted. Not an apology, a truth: "You mean everything to me."

If felt good to finally voice a vulnerable thought. Kiba had always been a safe place for those.

Kiba's animalistic eyes pierced hers, as he remained as still as she had ever seen him. And Hinata wasn't afraid to stare right back.

She felt a shiver pass through him, not unlike the one from this morning, "You are everything to me, Hinata, and I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."

Her heart soared out of her chest.

As if he realized what he had said and implied, he retreated his hands and began to shift away from her, nervousness painting his face.

Hinata had never kissed with such urgent instinct before.

It wasn't until she felt Kiba's lips moving against hers that she came to and realized what she had done.

Retreating with an embarrassed squeak, she felt heat rush up to her ears as unfiltered thoughts poured out of her, "Kiba you mean everything to me and I don't want you to feel like a rebound because you are so much more than that and I know you caught me staring at you so many times because you have such a beautiful body and you are so handsome but that's not all you are, you cooked such a lovely breakfast and you take care of me by buying me treats for my anxiety you are the sweetest man I've ever met and I hope I didn't ruin anything by my actions last night, I can't believe I gave you my panties but I wanted you to think of me the way I began thinking of you and I would never do such a thing for anyone but you and that's because I see every part of you and adore every part of you and want to please your nose as much as I want to please the rest of you and-"

Her rant was cut off by his mouth. He kissed her as she only thought people in books could be kissed: with passion and hunger and desire. She returned in kind as she held his face with her hands.

As Hinata wondered where his hands could be, for they weren't on her, Kiba broke the kiss with heavy breathing and his own unfiltered rant, "Fuck. Wait, no, I don't mean it like that. Hinata, I'm wild about you. You mean so much to me and I don't want to fuck this up by going too fast. You're too damn good for that. I feel like I need to court you and romance you like they do in all those slow burn erotic books I privately read too. I want you, Hinata. I need you."

Hinata found her face dangerously close to his again. She finally noticed his hands were destroying two of her lovely embroidered pillows with his claws. Then her eyes followed the trail of devastatingly tendons and veins bulging from his strained forearms, to his chiseled shoulders, and sculpted chest, "Fuck, Hinata, when you look at me like that, it makes me want to touch you. I know I shouldn't say this, but...I want to..." he bit his tongue to hold back.

Nothing in the world existed but Kiba and his evident desire for her, and she hadn't even looked down yet.

Taking it slow sounded like a practical idea. In theory.

In reality, she desperately needed to know what he wanted. Leaning forward and again cupping his face in her hands, she simply kissed him, lips against lips, no movement, inhaling via the nose, heavenly. Parting with barely any space between their lips, "Tell me," she ordered.

His eyes roamed to her mouth, to her neck, her her chest, to the place between her legs. Her sitting position on her heels kept her legs closed, keeping the scents on her arousal safely trapped. For now.

He seemed to only be capable of vocalizing a defeated whine.

Hinata knew this was a moment to prove she could take it slow, to make Kiba feel like he meant more to her than a spontaneous fuck. If Kiba and her were serious about this, which she knew in her heart they were, she could take it slow. She would.

As she placed one foot on the floor, opening her legs. She heard the fabric of her long gone decorative pillows rip even further as Kiba's pupils dilated and he snarled. Snarled.

Daring a look down at his pants, she saw the physical evidence of his desire. And she wanted to snarl back.

She didn't know if she launched herself to straddle his lap or if he finally released the pillows to pull her onto him and tightly grip her backside, but the reality was that they were now breathing each other's air as their bodies ground together. The barrier of clothes didn't stop the wondrous pleasure and excitement that coursed through them.

This rubbing was so intense it had Hinata's jaw loose and fingers weak as she rode her man. Kiba's strong and controlling grip had her moving up and down his length at just the right pace. His teeth were bared as his forehead almost touched hers, and Kami did it turn her on.

"Kiss me," she moaned. She felt his mouth capture hers, hot and claiming. It slid to her jaw, her neck. Then she felt claws pierce the fabric of her leggings with an erotic pressure against her skin.

Then she felt it. That crawling sensation through her body starting from her core that indicated she was on the edge, "Inuzuka," she whimpered. His face arrived in her line of sight, and his eyes were full of lust and adoration as she came undone.

Everything stilled except the hands that continued her movements against him, as she felt her brain connect to her center in a burst of pleasure that had her gasping.

Draping her arms over his shoulders as the glorious sensations lessened, the instinct to please him took over and she leaned in to bite his earlobe and whisper, "Inuzuka, cum."

She found herself on her back with his arms wrapped tight around her. He thrusted into her, hard. He tilted his head to gaze at her, eyes half-lidded, and she watched him experience his own mind blowing orgasm.

When his body ceased its jerking motions, he shifted his weight to the side to rest his head on her breast as they both just breathed. She lazily played with his hair. He slowly rubbed her hip bone.

Then there was scratching at the door with a recognizable bark.

Neither of them made a motion to move.

Another bark. Kiba half heartedly shouted, "Give me a minute."

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, a goofy smile plastering his face. She giggled back at him, and leaned up to meet his lips with an appreciative and happy kiss. She felt him grinning as he nearly collapsed his body on hers, if it weren't for the third bark. Kiba ignored it as he peppered her jaw with kisses.

Feeling exceptionally happy yet also concerned for her dearest canine friend, "Kiba, Akamaru might be getting cold!" She chided while her fingers betrayed her, weaving their way through his messy hair. His mouth found one spot at the juncture of her jawbone that made her want to squirm.

"The Hokage wants to see us," A flat-toned Shino said through the door, immediately quelling their affectionate activities. She motioned for them to get up, and he pouted.

Slithering off the couch, she made her way to the door as he covered his stained pants with her blanket.

The mirror informed her that her already messy hair was officially a disaster, especially the back part that had rubbed against her couch cushion. But it was just Shino, so she took the hairband out as she answered the door to let her two teammates in.

"There's been a change in our mission squad, and we are to report to Hokage-sama," Shino greeted them in his usual business-first, mannerisms-second style, "Good morning. Did Kiba sleep over?"

Hinata was attempting to fix her hair by brushing and braiding it, "No, he arrived early this morning for unexpected reasons."

Kiba held the travel pack Akamaru gave him strategically over his front as he made his way to the bathroom, "I thought Hinata was in trouble. False alarm. Uchiha Sasuke's an asshole."

"Kiba stayed to make me breakfast, and then..." She felt herself blushing. Should Kiba and her remain discrete? But Shino is their teammate, and deserves to know about the change in their relationship for a variety of reasons. Yet, the idea of announcing their confessions and activities so casually didn't seem quite right.

Fortunately, Shino's blunt perceptions saved her the hardship of handling the situation, "I see. You two are good for each other."

Smiling shyly, she put on her ninja sandals as Kiba came out with his usual ninja garb. They made eye contact, and the tension between them brought her to him. She felt her face smile widely without her consent as he leaned down to nuzzle their cheeks together and he whispered in her ear, "We'll talk later," she felt his nose twitch, "As much as I adore this scent, I won't be able to focus around the Rokudaime."

"Oh, of course!" she squeaked as she took off her sandals and dashed into the bedroom for fresh panties and pants. Speaking of which, she was reminded that these leggings now had claw marks in a quite noticeable place. Biting her lip, she put them and her panties to the side to give to Kiba later.

----

Fuck, was it hard to focus on the Hokage when Hinata was fiddling with her braid oh so cutely.

The memories of last night at her place, last night when he was in his room, and this morning on the couch flooded his brain. Most significantly, the confession of how much they meant to each other.

But that's the part he's trying to comprehend with as much maturity as possible: she cares about him on an emotional level, but her body is pretty much in heat.

Kiba knows what he wants with absolute certainty: Hinata.

But he doesn't want a fling, or a short term relationship. He wants her for the long run, and he wants it to be romantic as fuck.

Here's the problem: although she doesn't want to treat him like a rebound, her body is showing all the signs of a person who's craving some fantastic fucking.

Could Kiba do that? Yes, but it would ruin his long game strategy of the cliche slow burn plan. He wants his relationship with Hinata to be like one in his romance books. Which he realized he admitted he reads to Hinata during his rant this morning.

Yes, he reads romantic and erotic novels. They are very entertaining and educational. As a teen, is mom and sister not only gave him the talk about safe sex, but also a talk about how to have good sex. And reading about it via these books was his favorite way to up his game.

Admittedly, their dry humping this morning threw off his plan. But damn, it felt amazing. He also owed Hinata some new embroidered pillows.

"Hinata is to be removed from your upcoming mission. We will place another sensory nin on your team to compensate," The Rokudaime's words shocked Kiba into focus.

"Why the sudden change? We leave tomorrow," Shino questioned.

Kakashi sighed, "Apparently, the Hyuga clan have been invited to the Winning-of-the-War anniversary event in the Cloud a month early. As a gesture to make amends for past conflicts, among other agendas," he stared as the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with his subordinates.

Kiba looked to Hinata, who was staring back at him. Her face indicated she had no idea about this invitation. She blinked her eyes at him with a hint of disappointment.

She was going to miss him.

Then her eyes drifted further down his form, and she let out a wistful sigh.

...And his body. Kiba never thought there would be a day when he wanted to shake Hinata out of her sex-crazed state. But here he was. Simultaneously turned on and resentfully objectified. Is this how girls feel when he hits on them with hookup intentions? Now he gets it.

----

The day progressed with Shino and Kiba working with their replacement team member, Yamanaka Ikuyo, while Hinata went to her father discuss her family vacation to Kumo.

Kiba hoped she started the conversation with, "What the fuck?"

He chuckled and continued his day dream while Shino went over their usual team formations and adjusted them to the Yamanaka's sensory style. Ikuyo seemed to be a seasoned pro, and was excited to have a detective style mission, so her motivation made her easy include on their plans.

The sun was setting after a long day of planning, so Ikuyo parted from them to independently study the mission scrolls and her new teammates strengths. Kiba didn't understand such a level of discipline, but appreciated it as it gave him an excuse to invite himself over to Shino's for dinner. Bug boy didn't mind.

Even though they all had clan households they could reside in, modern Konoha culture had this new trend of adult ninja taking a few years to live on their own before settling back into clan households for good. Kiba was the first on Team 8 to get his own place, Hinata followed suit with tremendous encouragement. But Shino didn't lean into the trend. He hated feeling left out of social things with his friends, and the possibility of being left out of family events made him even more depressed. So he happily resided in the Aburame household.

Which was the safest place for Kiba to go. Hinata and Kiba would only be in the same village for one more night before her trip. Such a one-night-only situation was the ideal vibe for a steamy and desperate sex-fest. Which sounded spectacular and like the night of his dreams.

Unfortunately, it would not only ruin his long game of romancing Hinata properly, but it may also ruin their romantic potential entirely. And that idea scared the shit out of Kiba.

What if after a glorious night, Hinata felt like she got-it-out-of-her-system? What if they didn't talk afterwards, and she went to Kumo thinking they are now just casual fuck buddies? What if it enabled her to see him as only a sexual object, and not a viable romantic partner? Or what if she did what she said what she wouldn't do: treat him as a rebound, and then after a month apart, she just wouldn't be interested in him?

These insecure thoughts plagued him every time he drifted into a day dream of all the ways he wanted to touch her, and all the ways he fantasized about her touching him. Instead of playing attention to Ikuyo's explanation of her skills (he would figure it out in real-time), his thoughts alternated between sexy images, the consequences of them sleeping together too soon, and then the best part: what if he stuck to his plan and he truly had everything.

Visions of endless handholding in the village, cuddling in her spa-like apartment, walking Akamaru together at sunset, buying her fresh flowers, moving in together and taking care of her, cooking for her his greasy friend rice whenever she wanted, saving money to buy her a very special and very dainty piece of jewelry...

Those were the fantasies that made Kiba feel invigorated, motivated, and most seldom seen: disciplined. He would stay with Shino tonight as an extra measure, maybe write Hinata a romantic note, and dream about her for a month until he could truly have his shot with her.

Maybe this month apart would be a good thing. She'd have a respectable amount of time to get over the break-up with Naruto, simmer down her rebound seeking sex drive, and then he could commence with his ultra-romantic slow burn plan. Just like in the books.

Just as Kiba was feeling confident in his fantasies and plans while drinking tea with Shino on his porch, all was foiled when Hinata landed in front of them.

"Tea?" Shino offered without a second thought. Kiba was clenching the edge of the porch, trying not to mouth breathe as he stared at the woman of his dreams, who was wearing a lovely yukata reserved for clan meetings. A yukata that had fallen off one shoulder with the abruptness of her landing.

"Yes, please," she replied in a frustrated manner. Not frustrated at them, but by the the undoubtably disagreeable meeting she had with her family. She took her graceful body to lean against a nearby pillar, and stare at the night sky.

The silvery light of the moon bounced off her milky skin, and Kiba wanted to confess all his desires to her in that moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Shino helpfully offered as Kiba unhelpfully gazed at his angelic beauty.

Said angel shook her head, "I'd rather not,"

Her eyes then met Kiba's, and the tension from this morning snapped into place. It felt like slow motion when she stood up straight, walked to him, and offered temptation, "Walk me home?"

Yes, of course. He'd do anything she asked. He'd walk her home, kiss her forehead goodnight at her door. Kiss her neck goodnight her living room. Kiss her lips goodnight as he languidly made love to her under the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window.

He found himself falling into these fantasies as he stood in front of her, staring into her twin moon-lit eyes, showing how much she yearned for this as much as he did.

"Kiba requested to stay here tonight," Shino interrupted. The emotional nin wanted to simultaneously throttle him and shower him with thanks.

Hinata's eyes drifted to Shino, then back to Kiba's in confusion.

Shino, never failing to bluntly insert his perceptions into awkward moments, "I don't think he wants to be your rebound hookup before you leave for a month. That would hurt his feelings."

Even though every word out of his friend's mouth was the truth, it made Kiba lower is eyes in shame that he couldn't find those words for himself. Hell, if it weren't for Shino, he might go home with her to avoid telling her how he really feels.

"Oh..."

Then an unexpected pain hit Kiba's chest. She didn't deny any of Shino's words. No matter how much they meant to each other, the reality was that the timing of their feelings of affection overlapped with Hinata's desires of needing a validating night of sex.

Kiba went to Akamaru, who was lounging against the house. He sat cross legged next to his beloved partner, and pet him in a self-soothing manner.

Shino didn't stop being blunt, "Hinata, although you and Kiba are good for each other, perhaps now is not the time to kindle such a serious relationship, considering you and Naruto only broke up a week ago."

He could feel her grow uncomfortable with the unwanted observations and advice. Kiba wanted to pummel Shino for saying such cutting truths, "Shino, enough," he growled under his breath.

But Kiba couldn't face this anymore. Now was the time to wish Hinata well, give her a platonically affectionate wave, and leave to the guest quarters.

Standing up and forcing his face into his classic arrogant look, "We have a mission first thing, Hinata-chan. Shino and I are a bit caught off guard not having you with us. We'll miss you."

Whistling to Akamaru, "We'll say goodnight, and see you in a month after you show those Cloud nin how badass the Hyuga clan are," he forced out a wink and a toothy grin.

But then he noticed her eyes were welling with tears, and he felt his own eyes begin to water as well. They would figure it out after her mission. Dropping the inauthentic arrogance, he allowed himself to use a more affectionate tone, "See you later then."

Oh, how he wanted to hold her. But he knew if he did, he wouldn't let go without revealing his most vulnerable thoughts. So, he turned away from her with a wave.

"Kiba!" she cried before her scent surrounded him just before her arms did.

His hands instinctively covered hers as she held him from behind as she did this morning. After telling her she means everything to him. He interlaced their fingers together and squeezed. He felt tears through the back of his shirt, "Kiba, I-I-I didn't mean to treat you like that. P-P-Please forgive me."

He didn't know how much more his heart could take today, "It's OK, Hinata. I understand," he found one of her anti-anxiety stress points on the inside of her arm, and rubbed it gently.

She pressed harder against his back, and he wasn't going to let go of her arms until he knew she had recovered.

"Kiba, maybe when I've returned, you and I could..."

Before he knew what he was doing, he used one of her arms to bring her to his front, one hand cupping her cheek, the other holding her hand against his heart, "No way am I gonna let you say that now. When I get to Cloud for the celebration, you and I are gonna party our asses off and drink all their good sake," He saw a hint of smile on her face, "And when we get back to the Leaf, I'm gonna ask you out on a proper date. It's gonna be romantic as fuck."

She leaned her cheek into his hand and gifted him with a lovely smile. For the second time today, he brushed residual tears from her cheeks with his thumb. He wanted to end it there, but he sudden'y realized that there was one important thing that she should know, "And while you are in Cloud," he took a shaky breath and stepped away from her. He couldn't hold her for this next part, "You recover from ... that guy... however it makes sense to you. It's OK."

In other words, he was encouraging her to find a rebound there. The details of what that would mean made him sick to his stomach. But it would be OK, because he would ask her out in a month and they would have their chance then.

That's at least what he told himself.

Her eyes did that thing where she looked concerned with eyebrows scrunched together and up, eyes big and blinking, lower lip jutted out in protest. Yet she managed to nod in understanding.

He wanted to run away and destroy something. But he couldn't let that be their last interaction. Grounding himself with the thought of their first date to come, "What kind of flowers would you like?"

Oh, the things those fluttering lashes did to him. His angel smiled up at him, "Peonies."

Not trusting himself to say anything else, he nodded and returned her smile.

"I'll walk you home, Hinata," Shino's timing was often too on the nose, and Kiba was grateful.

She nodded to him, then looked back to Kiba. After a moment of thought, she grew on her tip toes to lean into him. He didn't dare move as she gave him a tender and warm kiss on the cheek. And then, the new light of his life was off with Shino.

He didn't know how much time had passed between when he was standing and when he was on his knees. At some point, Akamaru sat in front of him and pressed his head against Kiba's.

It was probably only 24 hours since she gave him those perfumed panties. And somehow a day later, he felt like he had given her his heart. Kiba shrugged against Akamaru's fur, "Not quite the romance in the books seen in books, but we'll get there."

Akamaru gave a bark of agreement.

----

A/N What a day in the life of Kiba and Hinata!

So, this story might be longer than the originally intended three chapters. Oops. I have the next chapter half written. The smut tho... yeah.

Also, the way Sasuke checked Kiba out?! The thought of them being work out buddies brings me so much joy. It's like a bro-style crackship.

Reviews please!

[facepalming-since-chernobyl]

My brain is rotting

Maybe isntead 

All dumb shit - (x)

“ Whether or not you believe Lena Luthor was behaving out of character on Supergirl season 5 or not, there’s no denying that Lena has a lot to make up for and make right on Supergirl season 6. “ 

yeah, out of character. She was never manipulated by her brother, never killed people,never threw a tantrum, never did morally wrong experiments, never was sure she is right when she wasn’t, was never blinded by her emotions, blah blah blah

It’s clear that there is a lot to be done with Lena Luthor during Supergirl season 6 after a season of her siding with her brother and the writers consistently destroying the relationship between Lena and Kara over the big Kryptonian secret.

What a lot? All they need to do is put the bitch in jail. Tell me, why Lena won’t admit on public she was hapily helping Lex with lobotomizing whole fucking humanity? That she kidnapped and enslaved people? Why? Because she KNOWS she would end in a jail. What makes her a fucking coward. What makes her redemption a SHIT.

If there’s any way to make sure this is done (and done correctly), it’s to bring Lena into the fold and give her a pivotal role in these stories. Let’s start by making her a super friend.

 Pivotal. LOL. She HAD pivotal role in season 5 and that’s why this season SUCKED BALLS. And she was a superfriend. And guess what? She used Kara and manipulated them all, put them in DANGER, because she was butthurt. 

Making things right needs to be Lena Luthor’s top priority on Supergirl season 6. She really screwed up. (I personally don’t agree with the narrative that the show painted of Lena’s actions, as it was very clear that her past abuse and trauma was clouding her judgment and she was actively being manipulated by one of her abusers, but nonetheless…) Her relationships are in shambles, but for the first time in her life, she has the chance to put the pieces back together.

I’m dyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Her top priority should be going to police and confessing her crimes. But we all know she won’t, because she is a coward.

Sure, you don’t agree because Boo Hoo Hoo Luthor showed her true colors. Yeah, sure, she had traumatic past and Lex and Lilian abused her all the time, we just don’t know how exactly. Plus, sorry not sorry, your traumatic past don’t give you the rights to kidnap, enslave, manipulate, lie and torture people. And plan to lobotomize whole humanity because you are too poor to go to theraphy... WAIT.

STOP excusing abusers and toxic people’s behavior. It’s fucking disgusting. Especially when all what they have to do is cry (crocodile tears) and help to fix shit THEY CREATED. ONCE AGAIN. 

The abuser she first SHOT IN COLD BLOOD and then happily work with, when he was magically brought to life, because oh yeah, he made Luthors look good. LOL

Her relationships are in shambles and it’s her fault. What first? She had that chances in s2. 

Lena’s finally seen the light and the truth about who Lex and Lillian are, so it’s given her a new lease on life, one where she can begin to put her past behind her and move forward for the first time in her life. She can, hopefully, start to have a life that isn’t constantly dragged down by her family. And I think the best way to do this is to make her an official super friend.

I’m dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyying. Lena shot Lex with cold blood because she knew who he was. And then she was still manipulated by him. For the THIRD TIME. And she had that life in STARCITY and she threw it away, because she wanted to be a LUTHOR. Once again, it’s on HER. She could walk away every fucking second. But she chose to stay. And do horrible

On this point I’m pretty sure she is a dumb bitch that can’t learn on her own experiences what makes me wonder about people calling her a genius. 

Lena’s often kept out of the loop until the very end when she invents some life-saving device and stops the villain, which is tiresome and shows that the writers truly don’t understand the complexity of the character and how impactful her relationships with the other characters could be.

How many times the shit she “helped” to fix was HER fault? Because she knew better and didn’t listen to her friends? This is IN character and writers know exactly who she is. Sorry not sorry, canon.

I’m not saying that Kara and company are going to immediately trust Lena to be on their side and always do the right thing. That will be part of the tension of Lena joining the group at first, proving that she’s capable of helping them and being a positive addition to their group. With Lex on the loose (hopefully not for long), this provides the perfect opportunity to begin Supergirl season 6 with Lena in the fold, finding more reasons to keep her there along the way.

Sure, once again Superfriends need to offer their hand to their ABUSER and invate her to their circle. So she can fuck shit again. Positive addition, yeah - butthurt, complains, eternal bitching about how people call her Luthor, being always right, not listening to the others. But oh yeah, she can produce more kryptonite to torture Kara. Once again, why keep her? Put her in the jail, case close.

(...)now is the time that Supergirl seems to be relying heavily on the team element, and leaving Lena out would be disastrous. The entirety of the Lena vs. Kara story on season 5 could have been avoided if Lena was brought into the fold earlier (and seeing only a few alternate realities doesn’t convince me that there was no way Kara could have told Lena earlier… that’s a pathetically easy way out of the story and the writers surely know it).

Sure. Blame Kara once again for rightfully protecting herself. And sure, CANON can’t convince you that telling Lena earlier would have changed a shit. Some people can’t understand that Lena is the pathetic control freak and has to know everything, because if not boo hoo hoo, people call her a Luthor.

This is canon Lena Luthor. I’m sorry she doesn’t fit your headcanon.

 And aside from Kara, Lena needs to work out her relationships with the others, too. She had minimal scenes with Alex — which is the second most important relationship to develop next to Kara and Lena’s on Supergirl season 6 — on season 5 and Brainy, too. But have Lena and Nia even been in a scene together? That’s a tragedy in and of itself. Plus, Kelly was the only one on good terms with Lena, and that could grow into a beautiful friendship, especially because of the relationship that Katie McGrath and Azie Tesfai share off-screen.

Her most important relationships are: her and her ego, her and her last name, her and her mommy issues, her and her brother. What she needs to develope is a fucking conscience. 

And Jesus Christ, leave Nia out of her fucking clucthes, we don’t need her corrupting poor Dreamer (aside of the fact Dreamer is protective of Kara and is going to show Lena her middle finger in s6). Why we need being tortured but going through Lena making friends with everybody?

Lena’s been a series regular on the show for three seasons, yet she’s continuously the person left out. Nia’s a superhero and knew Kara’s identity before her, Kelly has close ties with Alex and Kara even if she’s not officially in on the secret yet, and Brainy instantaneously became part of the group when the Legion showed up during season 3. Because of the ridiculous good vs. evil story, Lena has not been allowed to grow and develop real relationships after three seasons. Supergirl season 6 must rectify that.

LOL, she was in the cricle. All the time. She just didn’t know Kara’s secret. But sure, it kept her form growing up *dyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*. All of the characters that knew earlier were worthy Kara’s trust. Canon showed Lena was and is not. She is ruled by her BUTTHURT. That’s the problem with Princess Lena. She was blinded by her emotions by MONTHS. And for sure it will happen again, because Miss Luthorgirl is unable to understand her own fucking flaws and blames everyone but herself.

After painting Lena out to be a villain for the entirety of season 5, Supergirl season 6 absolutely cannot follow their history of major interpersonal developments occurring off-screen with Lena, especially when it comes to her relationship with Kara.

Not painiting. She was the villain. Yeah, all we need is focusing on Lena’s being sad and uspet and Kara trying to fix shit again. Because we don’t suffer from it since s2. 

Maybe instead of wasting time on a white privileged white bitch, who makes the same msiakes all the time and never paid for it, who kidnapped, tortured. enslaved and lobotomize people and her friends, let’s focus on dansen, developing Kelly, focusing more on Alex and Alex and Kara, giving Nia more screen time. I wonder, why the author thinks Lena and her whiny ass should get anything more?

This goes for all relationships, honestly, not just those involving Lena. While I do think everyone should get these moments on-screen, it absolutely has to happen with Lena if we’re going to believe her journey going forward. Making all of these moments happen off-screen is quite a bad habit that has constantly dragged Supergirl down, but should we actually get to see the emotions and growth exploring during Supergirl season 6, there’s a lot of potential, particularly because of how talented this cast is.

Sure. But the others, REAL representation, are not that important as Lena and her privileged ass. Who needs her journey going forward? She had her chance. She fucked it more than once. 

And now, amazing how this person totally IGNORED that Lena kidnapped, killed, lobotomized, enslaved, tortured Kara and hurt her physically and emotionally like NO ONE EVER HAD, that she supported and happily worked with a mass murderer and terrorist, that she planned to DESTROY Kara and her family. Like all she did was some bad things, but it was not her fault that much, because her family abused her and Kara lied to her, what a crime!, let’s not talk about what she really has done. The shit since s2. The list is LONG. Because, ha ha haaaaaa, Lena doing bad things, while being “blinded by her emotions” is NOT only s5.

Lena Luthor is not a poor victim of circumstances and her family. Her crying and helping people fixing HER shit is not a redemption. Her apologizing to Kara is not REDEMPTION. All of she has done is still THERE. If she wants redemption, she needs to PAY for her SHIT and earn it. 

The problem is, I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. She can rot in jail. And tbh, this is what she deserves. 

Kara deserves better. Superfriends deserve better.

[biotic-boshtet]

Aftermath - Chapter 6

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning

Years

Norah Jean comes to slowly at first, then lurching up as she registers the sound of several different alarms reverberating through the room. Instinctively she reaches up to turn off her hearing aids. The hearing aids aren’t there.

“Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now- this facility is under attack.”

She squints in the bright lighting, bare feet touching the floor just as a tremor rips through wherever she is. She wobbles, bracing herself on the bed until she can steady herself, accidentally pinning a lock of loose hair down with her hand, tugging uncomfortably. Why is her hair loose? It’s never loose, not even to sleep.

“Shepard. Your scars aren’t healed yet, but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack.”

The voice over the intercom sounds familiar, but Norah Jean can’t place it. The room she’s in a freezing cold.

“There’s a pistol and your armor in the locker on the other side of the room, hurry!”

The sound of gunfire grows, and Norah Jean looks up to see a heavy mech tearing through a target she can’t see. Another rumble tears through the structure. Her whole body aches.

“Grab the pistol and armor from the locker. You don’t have time to wait around, Shepard! Grab your weapon and armor!”

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there, sheesh.”

“Shepard, we don’t have time for you to be difficult, get that armor on, now!”

Armor on. Four minutes. She’s gotten slow. When was the last time she put her armor on? Used to be sixty seconds. Doesn’t feel right either. Rubs wrong. Norah Jean absently rubs her right pauldron and freezes. There should be a gouge there. Her favorite gouge. She never got it replaced because she liked the way it looked, how it broke the clean lines of the iconic N7 stipe. Because only fools had perfectly maintained, scratch-free, dent-free armor all the time. The padding isn’t broken in yet, the ceramic plates are too shiny, and the joints are too stiff.

“This pistol doesn’t even have a clip.”

“It’s a medbay. You’ll have to find one yourself. Someone’s hacking security and trying to kill you.”

She falters for just a second when she spots the familiar black and gold insignias in the corridor, stooping to grab the clip from the floor. She’s not sure where she’s seen it before. It’s hard to fight the unease churning in her gut. She pushes it away as the beginning of a migraine blooms in the base of her skull. Keeps walking in armor that isn’t hers.

Taking out the mechs is easy enough, with clean shots to the head. Efficient. Quick. Automatic. Thankfully she hasn’t forgotten how to do that. The collar padding rubs uncomfortably on her neck. Norah Jean rips half a dozen strands of hair from a shoulder joint for the zillionth time.

After dozen more twists and turns and a lot more mechs shot down, Norah Jean finally runs into another person. And, by the looks of it, one she can actually help.

“Shepard? What the hell?”

She dashes into cover, crouching beside him. He’s a biotic, she knows instantly and cringes internally at the way his field rubs against her own, like a pair of balloons. “Looks like you could use a hand?”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were still a work in progress.”

“I just woke up. You probably know more than I do.” She snaps back at him.

“Right. Sorry about that. I’m Jacob Taylor, I’ve been stationed here for- Damn it!”

Another wave of mechs shows up. Both Norah Jean and Jacob make their moves. Clean shots to the head.

“Things must be worse than I thought if Miranda’s got you running around. I’ll fill you in, but we better get you to the shuttle first.”

She takes a deep breath, shoving her curiosity down. “Give me the abridged version, then.” She pops out of cover long enough to send a shockwave clear to the other side, scattering the mechs, blue glow subsiding as she ducks back down. The mechs that didn’t get blown clear off the platform get back up.

“Heh, pretty good for someone who just woke up.” Jacop pulls one of the remaining mechs into the air, dispatching it with a few shots. “Anyway, two years ago, the SR1 went down over Alchera after an attack by an unknown ship. Most of the crew survived, but you died. We put you back together.”

Norah Jean does the same with the very last mech within a few seconds. Biotics are the only thing that feel right. Everything else is different. Wrong. She died. But her biotics are a familiar buzz, humming underneath her skin like a live wire. Two years.

She follows Jacob through the next few rooms until they come across a man bleeding on the floor, and Norah Jean is struck with the same eerie familiarity she felt with the voice over the intercom, Miranda.

“Bastards got me in the leg.”

“I think…” She closes her eyes against the already dim light in the room. “I think I remember you, Wilson, right?”

“Yeah. That was me. How about we talk about this after we fix my leg?”

Her eyes flick up towards the hopefully stocked first aid station on the wall. She gets there and back before Wilson can complain too much. The applicator is different than she remembers, fumbles with it for a second before applying it correctly. She gives him a hand up.

“Thanks, Shepard. Never thought you’d save my life. Guess that makes us even now. I thought maybe I could shut down the security mechs, but whoever did this fried the whole system, completely irreversible.”

“We didn’t ask what you were doing. Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the bio wing.” Jacob crosses his arms and eyes Wilson.

“Weren’t you listening? I came here to try and stop this! Besides I was shot, how do you explain that?”

Norah Jean pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re all fucking strangers to me, lets get someplace with a lower ratio of angry mechs, and then we can sort out whose fault this is.”

“Right. We need to find Miranda. We can’t leave her behind.”

“Forget about Miranda! She was over in D wing, the mechs were all over that sector. No way she survived.”

“A bunch of mechs won’t drop Miranda, she’s alive.”

“Then where is she? Why haven’t we heard from her? There’s only two possible explanations, she’s either dead, or she’s a traitor!”

“It doesn’t matter right now. Right now, we need to go! If Miranda’s as good as you say, she’ll probably be waiting for us at the shuttle bay.”

“You’re probably right, Shepard. Wilson, drop it, let’s go.”

The door on the other side of the room whooshes open and a squad of mechs marches through, guns drawn. Norah Jean swears under her breath.

“Wilson! I need you to overload the safety mechanisms on that container. It’ll take out the mechs and clear a path to the door.”

“You better be right.”

The crates explode easily, taking out all five mechs. Jacob stands up and turns to her.

“Okay, we took ‘em down, but this is getting a little tense. Shepard, if I tell you who we work for, will you trust me?”

“This really isn’t the time, Jacob.”

“We won’t make it if she’s expecting a shot in the back.”

“If you wanna piss off the boss, its your ass, Jacob.”

“The Lazarus Project, the program that rebuilt you, its funded and controlled by Cerberus.”

Cerberus. It finally clicks. The humanity first terrorist group. Black and gold. Fucked up experiments to “give humanity an edge”. Akuze. For a second all she smells is blood and acid, all she hears is the wind howling over empty sand. She blinks. Back to reality. Cerberus. Two years.

“I spent a good bit of time wiping out Cerberus labs. Why the change of heart?” Her corona flares and dies with her steady breaths, but her biotics remain under her control.

“Knew we shoulda replaced than damn implant.” Wilson mutters, eyeing her with nervously.

“Those answers are way above my paygrade, but the gist of it? Things change. The Alliance declared you dead. They gave up. Cerberus spent a fortune bringing you back. Look, I’d be suspicious too, but right now we have to work together. I thought you deserved to know what’s what. Once we’re off the station, I’ll take you to the Illusive Man. He’ll explain everything, I promise. But we have to get to the shuttles first.”

“Fine. Lead the way.”

Wilson stepped forward, punching in his security code on the door panel. “Come on, through here, we’re almost to the-“

The door opens, revealing a woman in a black and white catsuit. Her pistol is aimed squarely at Wilson’s chest.

“Miranda? But you were-“

Miranda pulls the trigger. “Dead?”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“My job, Wilson betrayed us all.”

“Even if you’re sure, did he deserve that welcome?” Norah Jea’s corona flashes briefly before she smothers it down again.

“He sabotaged the security systems, killed my staff and would have killed us.”

“Are you sure about that Miranda? We’ve known Wilson for years, what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m never wrong, I thought you’d have learned that by now, Jacob.”

Shepard twitches her hand away from her gun. “Okay. What’s out next step.”

“We get on the shuttle and we go.”

“What about the rest of the people on this station?”

“This is the evac point, if they’re not here now, they’re not coming.”

“We can’t leave without knowing for sure, we have to go back and look.”

“Don’t you get it? The only one worth saving is you. Everyone else is expendable.”

“She’s right, we all knew the risks when we signed up. Without you, there’s no point to any of this.”

Expendable. The thought turns her stomach. She sighs. “Let’s go. I’ve had enough of this station to last a lifetime.” She died two years ago, and the people who brought her back were expendable. She needs a drink.

“Or two in your case.”

-

Norah Jean turns to Miranda. “I need at least a dozen hair pins or something. I’m not going anywhere until I can get this damn hair situated.”

Miranda sighs and digs into a belt pocket, pulling out its contents and examining them. “The best I can do is seven pins and a hair tie.”

“I can work with that.” She takes the pins and hair tie and braids her hair, out of practice hands moving slowly to make sure the braid is neat and tight. Tying off the end, she works it into a flat coil at the base of her neck, using the pins as frugally as she can. “There. As long as I keep the helmet on, it should hold up.” Her head is pounding, and the pins certainly aren’t doing her any favors, but the hair is dealt with for now. Maybe she should just cut it all off. Its been two years since she’s braided it.

She checks over the pistol and shotgun assigned to her before putting on her helmet and following Miranda and Jacob to the shuttle bay.

-

“What? Veetor is injured. He needs treatment, not an interrogation!”

“We won’t hurt him, we just need to see if he knows anything else. He’ll be returned unharmed.”

“Your people tried to betray us once already, if we give him to you, we may never get the intel we need.”

“Prazza was an idiot and he and his men paid for it. You’re welcome to take Veetor’s omnitool data, but please, just let me take him.”

“Tali, you don’t have to just take Veetor and go, we could work together, just like old times.” Norah Jean knows Tali’s answer, even before she asks, but she’s so desperate for something familiar, she’ll try anything.

“I want to, Shepard, but I can’t. I’ve got a mission of my own. It’s too important for me to abandon, even for you. When its over, if I’m still alive, we’ll see what happens.”

“Sounds dangerous, what are you up to?”

“I don’t think Cerberus needs to hear about it, but it’s in Geth space, that should tell you how important it is.”

Norah Jean nods, then turns back to Jacob and Miranda. “Veetor is traumatized, and he needs medical care. Specialized medical care. Tali will give us the omnitool data and take him back to the flotilla.”

“Understood, Commander.” She tries to ignore the icy note in Miranda’s voice.

“Thank you, Shepard, I’m glad you’re still the one giving the orders. Good luck out there, if I find anything out there that can help you, I’ll let you know.

-

Norah Jean stands in the semi dark as the QEC powers down, rubbing her temples. Two years. Gone. She died. The door opens behind her.

“Hey, Norah Jean, just like old times, huh?”

She can’t turn around fast enough, stumbling over her own feet to come face-to-face with her best friend. He’s wearing black and gold.

“Jeff!” Her voice cracks, and she knows her face is doing something ugly as she tries not to cry. He throws an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her back, and it’s all she can do to keep her composure as she hugs him.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell a soul that Commander Shepard is an ugly crier.”

“I thought I was all alone.” She pulls back enough to wipe her eyes. “I can’t trust anybody here. They’re all Cerberus.”

“Well, you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me.”

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” She wipes her eyes again, sniffling as they leave the QEC room.

“Look who’s talking, I watched you get spaced!”

“I got lucky, there’s a lot of strings attached. How’d you end up here?”

“It all fell apart without you, Norah Jean, everything you stirred up? The council wanted it gone. They broke up the team, sealed records, and I was grounded. The Alliance took away the one thing that mattered most to me. Hell yeah, I joined Cerberus.”

“You really trust the Illusive Man?”

“I don’t trust anyone who makes more than I do, except you. But they aren’t all bad. Saved your life. Let me fly-“ He pauses, looking out the windows into the dark hangar. “And there’s this. They only told me last night.”

Norah Jean watches as the lights slowly illuminate the massive ship docked there. The Normandy. Only she’s twice her original size. Black and gold. The wrong insignia. Two years. The SR2.

“Its good to be home, huh, Norah Jean?”

“Yeah. I guess we’ll have to give her a name.”

-

The captain’s quarters were disgustingly huge. The empty space echoed and the fish tank was too loud. The lights didn’t turn all the way off. The personal bathroom was nice. Even if she didn’t recognize the ghost in the mirror. Two years.

The clothes in the closet fit her well. They aren’t hers. They’re all stiff and new. No familiar comfort of an undershirt too worn to wear under her uniform. Its all utilitarian, even the civilian clothes look like part of a matched set. The wrong colors. Black and gold stare her down everywhere she looks.

The desk is big. A model of the SR2 catches her eye. Then she sees the photo. She died two years ago, but the photo on her desk was taken mere weeks before it happened. She and Kaidan sit on the bench on the back porch of her parents’ house in Anchorage, doused in golden sunlight. Neither of them are looking at the camera. They’re so focused on each other that the rest of the world might as well not exist. Two years is a long time to be gone. That photo had only existed in two places, her own omnitool and Kaidan’s. The Norah Jean in that photo died. Maybe she doesn’t exist anymore. The frame goes dark when she turns her head away.

-

Dr. Chakwas would be lying to herself if she tried to say she hadn’t been waiting for the Commander to drop by. If very nearly felt like old times, the Commander’s boundless curiosity leading them through several rounds of questions. What she’s been up to the last two years, why she was here now, this and that. Then Shepard gets a look of sheepishness that would fit better on a new recruit than Commander Shepard, scuffing her boot on the deck and glancing around the medbay.

“Have you got another question, Commander?”

“You’ve got a pair of clippers in here somewhere, right, Doc?”

“Yes, they should be in a case on the shelf in the back.”

“I’m gonna borrow them, thanks.”

“Of course, Commander.”

-

The buzz of the clippers is almost as comforting as her biotics. Their weight in her hand feels good as she flips the switch on and off a few times. Turns them back on.

Her hair falls away as easily as those two years. Brown curls just barely brush her shoulders. She can’t place the feeling she gets as she looks in the mirror, recognizing a little more of the person who stares back. The lights are still too bright, but her head hurts just a smidge less.

-

When the Commander returns the clippers, gone is the three feet of rich brown curls, replaced by a bouncy bob, pinned back and away from her face. She carries herself differently, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She seems surer of herself than she’d been a few hours ago.

Chakwas stops her before she gets out of the medbay door. “You know I was half worried you’d come back with a buzz-cut. Your new hair suits you.”

“Yeah? I figured it was time for a change. Thanks again, Doc.”

“Any time, dear.”

[bennybentacles]

TUActober 2020: day 4- prophet

(prompt by @totallyevan )

i struggled so much with this and i hope yall know i reworte this like seven times bc i hate what i was writing.

|...|

it started with him just wanting to tell one person how the world ended. he just spoke to his savior of how the world got swallowed by the scorching heat and it quickly snowballed into something so big that it began to terrify him

it started with small questions, "what was the future like?" and he would speak of its color and tunes and the wonderful monuments that have been built, talking about it as if he is not sure if they really existed because the people could not know he's from the past. hes pretty sure it was said on back to the future or hot tub time machine.

then people started flocking in, asking for more thing like, "how would i change the world?" and Klaus would be left wondering on how could somebody change the world.

of course there are butterfly effects and paradoxes. he knows everything should stay the same but he also knows he already changed the timeline by stepping foot on it, what's one advice to just nudge the people to the right direction. "let the spirit come on through you" he had said

he knows he should've though of it better, should've made a huge speech about the wrong things he had seen but he's nothing more than a mortal who could only think of the present and nothing else. and can you blame him when my chemical romance wrote some good ass lyrics and it would be a crime to not spread their wise words in the sixties

the people brought his words well. too well, he might say even. people began praising him and his wise words, and at first he lived for every attention he got but it got too constricting, too much and he wants it to stop, just stop.

"did you see how the world end?" people began asking him and he wanted to sit down and tell them the tales of the end of the world. of how his stupid family brought the world to its knees amd burnt it alive. he wanted to scream that it was their fault why the world collapsed and why his brother was trapped in the wasteland for decade.

but he did not. instead he said something else. "the world, It goes, all troubles on a burning pile" ans he grins sharp at that.

he is not wrong. but he also quoted a song and it does not make sense in any means but the people still bought it, still gasped in fear and he fears how long he could hide behind this facàde

turns out he could do it for a very long time. he expected to be thrown out in a week, and then a month, and then half a year but now two years in, he is still living a comfortable life

well, as comfortable as it could be with hundreds of people breathing down his neck. "share us your wisdom oh wise prophet" they begged and he winced.

that had became a problem of his too, these people treating him like a god amongst men and he does not want it yet he can't wash it of him. like how he could not wash the blood of his hands that he still sees from time to time

"Some people hope, Some people pay" he finds it is easier to quote songs that was made in the future, having the work cut for him. Klaus knows it's bad, and stupid, and he'd get caught by someone in a few years but he needed this.

he needs to survive. he needs to live. and he does not want to die so he smiles and quote famous songs and he smiles even if his heart yearns to be free from the burden he has

"how should we go through my boy?" he was asked one night, with him exhausted beyond what he thought was humanly acceptable and he smiles softly as he stared at the high ceiling before him.

"let the wind take us to our destination" it might be a song lyric or a book quote or maybe Klaus is getting better at spouting bullshits. he really does not know and he hopes it sounds smart enough that he would not get thrown out on the streets because it would suck and Klaus is not sure if he could survive living in the streets in the sixties. he would die in days

"great. i'll have the car prepared. we'll leave tomorrow" to where? he wanted to ask but he felt the sandman slowly grab at him and he could only nod as he slept.

..

Klaus quickly realized that maybe he should've asked where they were going because he could only panic as he saw where the hell he was the moment he woke.

at first it was just LA, then they went to Massachusetts. "the salem thing?" he remembered asking Ben in hushed whisper, eyes wide as he saw how his brother nodded in affirmation.

then they went to to Virginia, and Wisconsin and the next thing he knows he's on a cruise spouting up song lyrics to hundreds of strangers. " all we do is sit in silence, waiting for a sign" he remembers screaming, his previous point long forgotten yet people only nodded in understanding and Klaus felt like jumping off the ship because these people are in too deep.

Klaus knows that the only way he could escape is if he vanishes into thin air, maybe go back to his past? present? future? honestly time travel is messy and we don't fuck with terrorists

"you need to calm down Klaus" Ben had said at one point, when he had go as far as sneak alcohol into his room and he sobbed suddenly. "i don't want to do this anymore" he had admitted as he cried and he saw Ben take a seat in front of him

"you put yourself into this position in the first place" Klaus felt as if he was slapped in the face. "i did not have a choice!" he screamed, and he saw Ben's lips form into a sneer and he braced himself for the harsh words that his brother would say because this happened way too many times. it happened back in the motel while he is having his chest burned off and it would happen now. classic Ben move

"you had the choice! you just chose to go this path Klaus" the thing is Ben is right. he is right. Klaus really dug his own grave in this one, maybe even carved out his own headstone with the way things are going bad so fast. "fuck you Ben" he managed to hiss out before he threw the bottle of vodka

..

he is going to leave. he hated this life, hated having people follow him behind like a bunch of ducklings. ugly blue ducklings.

he wanted peace, he wanted freedom, he wanted it now. it's been three years since he got dropped from the sky in a flash of blue ans Klaus wanted the peace once more.

so he ran. a prayer circle, he had said. it was a stupid plan. a rough plan. he did all of that with no help from Ben because Ben is an asshole and horses are loose in the hospital or whatever. they are both annoying and Klaus wanted to leave

so he did. he smiled as he gestured up, whistle leaving his lips and he quickly escaped, leaving his followers behind. still whispering a tune that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Klaus ran, leaving behind hundred of people who believed in him, listened to him spouting out lyrics that only he and Ben knew and had worshipped the ground he walked in. the experience was good while it lasted. but he's had enough. what he really wanted was back in Texas and he's about to go to him.

[altimys]

Zero Escape Thoughts

I just finished playing all the Zero Escape games over the course of the past three weeks. Some thoughts.

Overall, I really liked the series. Most of the characters are well-written and dynamic, the plots entangled and unpredictable, and the ties to science, psychology, and sci-fi quite well done. I’d been dying to play these games since high school when I first heard about 999, and I’m very glad to be able to finally accomplish that goal. Spoilers ahead, of course.

999

999 is by far the best one in the series, maybe because it was planned as a single game and the series wasn’t anticipated. I’m a fan of the visual novel style, and the puzzles in here took advantage of math and cryptology, which was really cool. Junpei was an excellent protagonist, because he had the right balance of naivete, heroism, and wit to pull through the story. The banter with all the other characters made him feel a lot less shounen protag and more like a real person, someone who could say a lot of silly stuff at odd times, or slyly try to make Akane say perverted things. The other characters were also quite charismatic!

When the reason for the Nonary games was revealed, the impact was unforgettable. Unintentionally dragged into a plot to reach across time to save the one you loved. Like fated lovers, though it felt more than a simple romance because of how everything was entangled, and the fact that Junpei was not exactly saving adult Akane but the Akane that was a child. The true end was really great, with Aoi and Akane on the run (felt like noble outlaws), but the hope that Junpei could and would catch up with them.

Virtue’s Last Reward

I admit, initially I was not impressed with VLR, because the mechanic of the AB game and the overly mascot-like Zero III felt like some contrived death game rather than a masterfully crafted plot like 999. As the game progressed however, the mystery of the bombs, Radical-6, and the killer on the loose really got me engaged, wondering what the heck was really going on.

Sigma was also a pretty fun protagonist to play as, with his clueless nature and his sometimes perverted lines (ahaha). I felt like his relationships with the other characters were much more developed (as compared to Junpei), and his banter with Phi was more fun and relaxed as compared to Junpei and Akane in 999.

They really latched onto the multiverse theory with the jumping and everything, giving it more of a mechanic than 999, which was okay, but it kind of makes the “fate” of 999 lose a bit of its impact. Otherwise, the jumping mechanic was really cool, and did reasonably frame the reason the Nonary game here was started in the first place. However, the weakest plot points here were that somehow Hongou was said to have done the original Nonary game as a Free the Soul experiment, which was a weak excuse for a connection to the first game (no mention of FtS whatsoever then) and Akane being so cold as to never contact Junpei in that history and help conceive a game that *had* to kill people before it achieved its goal. Also, who is ? in the last scenario, and where did K go? It felt like it was implied to be the player, but the question is never answered.

The game introduced Luna, and I really came to like her a lot. I felt extremely hurt every time I had to betray her. I cherished her ending with Sigma, and did kind of ship them a little (LOL). Little did I know...

Zero Time Dilemma

The tone of this actually was more of a contrived death game than VLR, because it was implied that there was no chance at all nine characters surviving whatsoever, unlike 999 or VLR. Luckily, they got rid of the mascot and just went with a sinister Zero. The deaths were much more gruesome than the previous two games and definitely showed more blood. Shock value?

The fragmented timeline both adds and subtracts from the overall experience. It helped me as the player experience firsthand the disorienting gaps in time and memory that the characters were going through. However, the lack of a chronological timeline, or at least following different timelines in a more organized or linear fashion made decisions lose their impact. Every event felt transient.

Junpei and Akane were written far too out of character from what I would imagine them being like one year after the events of 999. Within one year, would it be possible for Junpei to be that jaded and edgy? Would he not try to revert to parts of his old self and at least be neutral, if not nice? Akane also had some serious yandere bits, which were bizarre because I didn’t think someone who is so focused on saving humanity would be that unhinged, especially if it was the death of someone she steeled her heart from interacting with. I would have expected her to show frustrated disappointment or even disdain, not straight up crazy murder time.

The new characters were difficult to get to like. You could like Carlos through his friendly banter with C-Team, and Diana because you could tell she was kind and synergized with Sigma and Phi, but Sean, Eric, and Mira were difficult to like, because no rapport was really built between the three of them at all. Almost all the Q-Team interactions were wrought with tension and misunderstanding. I also felt like Mira was supposed to play the role of The Killer (like Ace or Dio), but since the teams were so separate and memory so limited, it was incredibly difficult to rouse the same kind of suspicion and fear, so she just because a lackluster pretty killer. Not really much of a satisfying redemption arc for her in her post-game files either.

D-Team was simply my favorite, probably because Sigma and Phi were still true to their VLR personalities, and as mentioned before, the whole team synergized very well. The two bombs that were dropped in this team were the parts that make this game redeemable for me. The first reveal, that Diana was the one Luna was based off of, made me drop my jaw, but it also did not prepare me for the second reveal, which was the entire Sigma/Diana/Phi/Delta thing. Suddenly, everything made odd sense, even though it was kind of fucked up. No wonder the D-Team chemistry was there. Even now, I’m still kind of shocked at how unbelievable it is...

Well, the true ending was okay, but it felt largely unsatisfying, since Zero was portrayed to be some kind of anti-hero/anti-villain, but really it came across as just a big asshole who didn’t really care about justifying the means. Even with the “we will save the world because of this” mentality that was induced in the participants, it really felt like a letdown that we wouldn’t be able to serve justice for all the horrible things that happened to the characters, nor actually see the foiling of the future terrorist’s plan. Really felt like a cop-out. Other post-game complaints are (1) where the fuck is my post-game D-team files and (2) where is ? and K???

I do think ZTD is the weakest by far, but the writing that surrounded team D was emotional and well done, and is my favorite part. Without that, I don’t know if I would really have liked everything else that happened in ZTD.

Erhhh well, thanks for reading, I guess! Despite its faults (like overexplaining concepts like jesus shut up sometimes), I do like this series a lot!

[lnc2]

rattle my cage

Summary: In which history, despite Alya’s best efforts, does not repeat itself.

A commission from @booyahfuruya who requested Adrienette in the panther cage.

AO3

It was all Alya’s fault.

Not that she would ever admit to it.  If pressed she would adamantly insist it was all Nora’s doing.

Never mind that the tenacious blogger should have been babysitting and not chasing superheroes across the arrondissements– no, it was her sister’s overprotectiveness that landed Marinette in this mess in the first place.

This mess being a locked panther cage, a debilitating crush, and a literal pile of animal shit.

She cast a too-wide, uneasy smile towards her stupidly attractive, blessedly naive co-captive and waved.

Adrien, confused, waved back.

Ugh.

She really needed to have a talk with Tikki one of these days about what it meant to be Lady Luck. 

Because, honestly, she was starting to have doubts.

What was lucky about having a best friend who considered unmasking her superhero alter-ego her life’s purpose?  A best friend who pawned her actual responsibilities onto her too-accommodating boyfriend.

A boyfriend, who, by all accounts, was (justifiably) terrified of said best friend’s older sister.

An older sister who would and did not take kindly to the discovery that her baby sister’s boyfriend let her run off after a magical terrorist. An older sister who, after putting the fear of god into the boy, sent him after her, neglecting to put away her other sisters’ football in the process.  

A devastating oversight that sent said best friend’s father tripping and spraining his ankle.

All of which now culminated in being dragged out of her bed by an indignant, grounded Alya, coerced into helping out at the zoo while Monsieur Cesaire was recovering.

“Please, M.” She’d said, with the biggest, brownest puppy dog eyes Marinette had ever seen.  “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

So, like a sap, she’d agreed.

Something Marinette was now deeply regretting.

Apparently, making it up to her meant pulling a Ladybug and “accidentally” locking her in the panther cage with Adrien before disappearing with her equally traitorous boyfriend.

E tu Nino?

In another life maybe, maybe Marinette could forgive Alya this so-called favor.  Another life where Adrien hadn’t just days before confessed to liking another girl.

She’s special. Very pretty. She’s got dark silky hair, deep and mysterious eyes.

Kagami Tsurugi was ladybug lucky and Marinette was the very good friend who’d volunteered to keep them company on their first date this afternoon.

She’d never dreaded ice skating more.

Even the solace of Luka’s company couldn’t stem the tide of that impending heartbreak.

And Alya, bless her, couldn’t seem to let it go.

“That could be you,” She’d said.  “You can’t give up now!”

It’d been a loud and frequent argument these last few days.  One Marinette apparently needed to revisit. Again.

“I’m really sorry about this,” She said, wiping her sweating palms against her jeans.

Akumas she could take down no problem.

Adorably earnest boys?  Not so much.

“No worries,” Adrien said, looking unfairly attractive for someone who was currently shoveling animal excrement.  “It’s not your fault Alya ran off with the keys.”

She smiled, nervous.  “Yeah. I guess not.”

“Besides,” Adrien said.  “I’ll just text Kagami and let her know.  We can always hang out another time, right?”

“Sure.”

She changed the subject then.  There was only so much a girl could take and Marinette felt stretched to the limits on her best days.  They moved on from fencing to school to his audition for the new Ladybug and Chat Noir movie when the screaming started.

Marinette froze as a woman’s terrified cry echoed through the park.  Adrien met her eyes across the cage, grimacing.

“What are the odds it’s just an escaped gorilla or something?”

She stared. He sighed.

“Right.” And then, more quietly, “Fuck.”

Marinette barely registered the epithet and his rushing towards the locked cage entrance as she whipped out her phone to call Alya.

The phone rang once, twice, three times.

“Don’t you dare leave us here while you play Lois Lane-” She growled, angrily hanging up when she was sent to voicemail.  She tried Nino next with the same result.

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“Aaaand the Ladyblog is live. Fuck.” Adrien said, echoing her thoughts.

He tossed her a worried look which she ignored.

She didn’t have time to reassure him.  She was already dialing the zoo’s front desk only to be met with the akuma emergency notification recording.

No phones, then.

Another scream followed by an earth-shaking explosion that nearly sent them both to their knees.  Adrien helped her to her feet and patted her sides. She waved off his fussing with a flustered, nervous laugh.

Now really wasn’t the time.

Reluctant but assured, Adrien tried the back entrance again, muttering a low string of curses with every useless yank of the door.

Marinette’s eyes scanned the cage for something, anything.

Maybe, if they worked together and had the proper leverage –  one of the heavier logs scattered throughout the habitat? – they might be able to fashion some sort of battering ram.  Although as the door opened inwards she doubted they’d be strong enough to do any good. And even if that managed to work the possibility of one or both of them getting hurt in the process was too risky. 

Marinette couldn’t even begin to think about what Gabriel would do if she injured Adrien by being so careless.  Her designing dreams dashed before they ever truly had a chance to take form. Adrien crippled, spending months in physical therapy, only to fall in love with his nurse.  Marinette growing old, unsuccessful, and dying alone.

Ouch!

Tikki pinched her side, sending her a look she knew all too well.

You’re catastrophizing again.

Right. Right.

So the battering ram was out.

There was some sheet metal near the exit - if she managed to unravel it they could try to catch the light and attention of any passersby.  Assuming of course there was anyone left nearby and that said people would be able to do anything in the first place.

She quickly dismissed any success there as unlikely.

She tugged at her pigtails, regretting her choice in hairstyle and its woeful lack of bobby pins even as she doubted something like that would work on the cage’s lock.

Or at least, she hoped it wouldn’t, no matter how convenient it may be in the current circumstances.

Although … Marinette met Tikki’s anxious gaze. I have something better than a bobby pin.

Tikki could get them out of here.  Preferably in a way that wouldn’t involve revealing her identity.

God, she could only imagine.

Hey hot stuff.  Real sorry to drop this extremely dangerous secret on your lap but Paris needs me. 

Yeah, no.

Marinette could do this without going that far.  All she needed to do was find a way to get Adrien away from the doors… and come up with some sort of explanation for how she managed to get them open in the first place.

Something that, upon consideration, shouldn’t be too difficult.  As ridiculous and incomprehensible as her stammering and excuses have been over the past year he always seemed to believe her.  A heart of gold and oblivious – Adrien Agreste really was the whole package.

Decision made, she nodded to her kwami who returned it with an adorable determination.

Excuse on her lips, she pointed towards the opposite side of the cage.

“Adrien I think we can use that log–”

“I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She whirled around to find Adrien much closer than before, mouth set in a firm line.  He was staring beyond the bars of the cage towards downtown and the likely akuma.

The what for was on the tip of her tongue when she caught sight of a pair of familiar, electric eyes blinking out at her from his open shirt pocket.

Wait…

“Plagg – claws out!”

Marinette reflexively shielded her eyes against the blinding flash of green light.  It was useless though– the stomach sinking feeling of shock and dread was already setting in.  She knew exactly who she would find when she dropped her hands.

Chat Noir gave a sheepish wave.

Son of a bitch.

“Um, hi."

Marinette blinked once, twice,

and then screamed.

“Wait– shh, no!” Chat (Adrien) said, ears flat, hands outstretched placatingly.  “Don’t scream. Please don’t scream, Marinette.  It’s me. I’ll explain everything I swe–”

“You...” She said, holding up a shaky finger.  “You...”

“Me.” He said, his lips quirking up into the smallest smile in spite of everything.

Oooh.  She could just kill him.

“You- You’re so stupid!” She cried and his smirk fell from his lips.

“Excuse me? ”

“We– we could have called someone!  Or jerry-rigged a battering ram! Or… or… you– we could have–” Marinette pulled at her pigtails and let out another muffled scream.  “I can’t believe you.”

“Me? ” He said, angry now.  “ You can’t believe me?”

“No,” She snapped.  “I can’t. If you had just given me a second I could have gotten us out of here!”

“With what?” He said, gesturing wildly.  “Your magic lockpicking kit?”

She stomped her foot, furious.  “I was working on it!”

“Well that’s great, Marinette.  Real great.” He crossed his arms and she wanted to smack that patronizing look right off his stupid face.  “But I don’t have time to wait around when there’s an akuma on the loose and Ladybug needs me.”

“What Ladybug needs,” She said, reaching up to poke at his temple.  “Is for you to fucking think.”

“I was thinking!”

“There are cameras, Chat.” She hissed, waving hysterically towards the blinking object in the corner of the cage.  “Oh my god.  Cataclysm that and recharge Plagg. We could have gotten out of here without the dramatics.”

Chat rolled his eyes.

“Oh I’m dramatic, she says.”

“Who’s wearing leather spandex?” She snapped before opening her purse.  “Tikki? Can you open that door?”

Chat Noir gawked as the little red and black sprite floated out of Marinette’s bag.  Tikki gave him the stink eye before phasing through to the other side of the cage. A few seconds later there was a distinct click and the door swung inwards.

Ladybug.

“We’ll talk about this later,” She said, cutting off his rising tide of gibbering, flailing, and panic.

Chat nodded, dumbstruck.  Unfortunately, his brain hadn’t caught up to his mouth and he said

“Where was that idea ten minutes ago?”

Marinette scowled.  “It was one of the first things I thought of, dumbass.  I just thought, you know, it would be best not to out myself.”

The reality of the situation had yet to set in but hearing Ladybug’s frustration come out of Marinette’s mouth was grounding.  Sort of. Maybe.

His mind flashed to their original plans for the day and he let out a mortified squeak.

Oh my god.

“How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Who said I wasn’t freaking out?” Marinette said, deadpan.  She pointed towards the security station. “First the cameras, then the akuma.  I’ll go find a place to transform.”

She shot him a familiar, scolding look that sent his heart stumbling over itself.

Oh my god.

He’d found her. He’d found her.

“Wipe that dumb smile off your dumb face.” Marinette said. “I’m still mad at you.”

Chat saluted, still smiling.  “Yes ma’am.”

“Ugh.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him towards security.  “Go.”

“Okay, okay.  Just…” He looked down at her over his shoulder, eyes soft.  “We’ll talk later yeah?”

“Sure,” Marinette said, traitorous cheeks turning pink even as she pushed him away.  “We’ll talk later.”

Much, much later. 

Like, after she’d had time to scream later.

With her promise of a future discussion secure, Chat bounded off towards the security station, the very picture of caught canary. 

Marinette met Tikki’s exasperated gaze with her own.

Her kwami shrugged.

“Well… at least he’s pretty.”