#it's just been this one prompt kicking my whole ass on account of needing to back my claims with research

[miodiodavinci]

sniffling and whimpering as i rewrite the response to this prompt for the third time, this time taking time to Actually write down all the points i want to cover first in detail instead of kind of just winging it because my brain is intense agony over all this and wants to be done as soon as possible

[obsessedasusual]

The Worst Flirt - Juice Ortiz x Reader

Pairing: Juice Ortiz x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, terrible pick up lines

Summary: Juice is really bad at flirting, you take pity.

Note: Let's move these WIPs to my completed folder! I should be asleep, work is gonna kick my ass tomorrow. Inspired by the "are you asking me out?" "no. i mean yes, maybe... as friends?" prompt by @screnwriter! Read it somewhere and couldn't get it out of me heeead.

It was your favourite way to spend a Friday night, unwinding after a long week at work with your girlfriends, sipping on a fruity cocktail at your favourite bar while have a well-deserved whine about that bitch Louise in accounting.

“Okay but, Y/N. To be fair to Louise, you did send the invoice for the wrong amount.” You glared at your friend from across the table.

“I know I did but that’s besides the poi- can we not have logic tonight please?” You began to laugh, “I just need to drink my shitty mojito and bitch about fucking Louise.”

“I hear that – fuck you, Louise!” came your other friend. You laughed and cheers-ed with her.

It was her turn to launch into a story about a shitty colleague next, you sat back and laughed at her anecdote – it sounded like she was also in the wrong, not that you’d ever tell her that.

You soon found yourself slurping at nothing but ice, “I need another drink, you guys want a second?”

As if you needed to ask. Side stepping around the other patrons you made it to the bar and waited for the bartender to get to you, people-watching in the meantime. It seemed like everyone had the same idea as you, get to the bar and drink away the past week. There were men in suits drinking their bourbon, a group of what looked like newly-21’s downing jager shots like they were going out of fashion, a few people down back deep in a game of darts, and in a booth by the door, a bunch of guys in leather, smiles on their faces and staring at… you?

You raised your eyebrows and hastily turned back to the counter, where was this bartender? You tapped your fingers against the bar and tried to ignore the eyes staring at the back of your head, startling when you heard a throat clear to your right.

“I hope you know CPR, because you’re taking my breath away.”

“I don’t actually, so I hope your will’s up to date.” There was silence a beat longer than you were expecting so you caved and glanced to the man next to you. He wasn’t looking at you at this point, he was looking at the drinks that lined the walls behind the counter but also, he wasn’t? His eyes were squinted, like he hadn’t expected that retort and now had to rethink his whole game.

You watched him curiously, waiting to see what he’d say next, taking in the tribal tattoo on his head. A second later he nodded at himself and turned to face you again, “Are you from Tennessee-“

“I’m from San Diego.”

“I’m gonna need you to not interrupt me.”

“Sorry about the wait hun, what can I get you?” You held a finger put to the mystery man as a silent ‘please hold’ and turned back to the bartender.

“Could I please get two mojitos and a raspberry cosmo?” The bartender moved to prepare your drink and your attention went back to the man waiting patiently at your side.

“Okay, Casanova. What else ya got?”

“Hear me out – keeping on theme this time… if you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.” The disbelief in your eyes was obvious, “Get it? Because you ordered a fruity cocktail, fruit and fruit?”

“I know you don’t really think that was any good.”

“Yeah well, that’s about the last pleasant one I know. The rest are very R-18 and I feel like that won’t get me anywhere.”

You smiled at the man in front of you as he closed his eyes in annoyance at the table of leather clad men egging him on from afar, “Friends of yours?” you queried.

He sighed heavily, “Okay look. The guys have been on my case nonstop, talking shit that I’ve got no game because I haven’t picked up a girl in a long time. Truthfully – and please don’t take this the wrong way – I’m just here talking to you to shut them up.”

Your smile widened in surprise but he interrupted before you could speak up, “I mean no offence! You’re gorgeous and all, and in any other scenario sure – I’d probably try to-“

“How long’s ‘a long time’?” You quoted him. He gave you a confused look so you elaborated, “You said it’s been a long time since you’ve picked up a girl, how long?”

He stared at you before shyly looking away, “14 months, give or take.”

“14 months?! Why? Girlfriend or something?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous chuckle, “something like that.”

The bartender returned with your drinks and you thanked her and paid, “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll help you out tonight because I’m feeling charitable and this seems like a good opportunity to get free drinks. I’ll go take these drinks back to my friends, you go tell your big, bad buddies that you’re making moves, order some fries, and meet me at that table over there. I’ll see you in five, Mohawk.” You winked at the stunned man and made your way back to your friends, drinks carefully held in your hands.

As you approached, your friends couldn’t help but wolf-whistle at the scene they’d just witnessed.

“Who was that?”

“He’s hot.”

You laughed lifting your glass to your lips and taking a long sip, “Long story, it’ll make for a great tale when we’re hungover tomorrow morning. But I’m gonna hang with him for a bit, come get me when you��re ready to leave.”

“Holy shit, you’re really about to bang a biker.”

“I am not! I’m just sitting with him, how do you know he’s a biker?” As if you didn’t know.

“Take a look around the room, Y/N, it’s pretty obvious who the bikes out front belong to.”

You hummed in agreement, “Anyway, I’ll see you ladies in a bit. If I scream, that means come and help me.”

They laughed as you walked away to the table where the terrible flirt was waiting.

“So, you got a name, Casanova?” You flashed a kind smile as you took your seat.

“I’m Juice.”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s true!”

“You’re telling me, your mother popped you out and named you Juice?”

“Well, no it’s a nickname I guess but it’s all anyone calls me.” He shrugged.

“And that’s what you want me to call you?” you questioned curiously. He smirked then, “I’d rather you call me tonight, but Juice works too.”

You laughed and shook your head, “I really walked right into that one huh?”

“Oh yeah, couldn’t have gone better.” He seemed much more relaxed now, “You got a name or should I just call you ‘mine’”

“Jesus Christ, how many of these have you got up your sleeve? My name is Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you, Juice.” You offered your hand to shake, he accepted with a laugh. “Tell me something, Juice. What brings a group of big, bad bikers dressed in leather to a place like this? I can’t say I’ve ever seen you guys here before.” You’d seen the leathery men ride around town, sure. But you’d never actually come across them before, especially in a bar this side of town.

Juice thought for a second, “We wanted a change of scenery, I guess. Not really a reason to it. Can I ask you the same?

“It’s how we spend our Friday nights! Escape the nine to five, complain about our bosses, drink some very fruity drinks, then wake up with a headache tomorrow morning. Cured of course with a big breakfast cooked by whoever is the least sore.” Honestly, you loved your Friday nights with your friends.

“Sounds like a wild night.” He teased, you took him by surprise when you laughed more dramatically than necessary and reached across to grab his hand.

You kept the smile on you face as you spoke, “Your leathery friends are staring at us, pull my seat closer.”

“Please never call them that again.” But still hooked his foot on your stool leg and dragged you closer to his side. “They still looking?”

“Yeah, but they look very impressed I have to say.”

The night went by faster than you realized. Juice was a lot of fun, he had you in stitches more often than not with the stories he would tell. He seemed way too sweet to be in a motorcycle club but you didn’t pry.

You had just finished your fifth drink and were feeling great, hands covering your face to try and stop the tears that were falling from laughing too hard. When you composed yourself you saw from the corner of your eye one of Juice’s friends making his way to you, “Your friend’s coming over.”

“What one?” he groaned.

“He’s tall, almost grey hair maybe?”

“Chibs.” He nodded.

Before ‘Chibs’ got to your table you grabbed Juice’s hand, “Kiss me.”

“Wait, what?”

You closed the short distance between the two of you and pressed your lips to his.

“Get it, Juicy!” you heard the shouts from somewhere in the room.

Juice gained his composure and moved his lips softly against yours. All too soon you pulled back, took a breath, “…I’m not usually that forward, but I think your friends will lay off you now.” You could feel the heat in your cheeks when you fully realized what you’d done… and that you had enjoyed it.

Juice blinked slowly and nodded, lightly swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, “Yeah, I think that’ll do it.”

“Y/N! Leave your boy toy and let’s go! Cab’s almost here.”

“That’s me.” You pointed at your friends leaning on one another.

He frowned and nodded taking a deep breath, “Do you wanna get food? One day… tomorrow? Do you wanna get lunch tomorrow? After your ritualistic breakfast thing with your friends?”

You bit your lip to stop the grin threatening to spread across your face, “Are you asking me out, Juice?”

“No. I mean yes, maybe… as friends? No, not as friends, I mean, as friends of course but you know… more than that, too.”

You laughed at the flustered man in front of you and unlocked your phone to hand to him, “Add your number. We can tee out the details in the morning. When we’re not being rushed by our friends.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He grinned at you as you went to move away, “Is that a mirror in your pocket? ‘Cause I can see myself in your pants.”

You threw your head back as you laughed at that one, “You are truly something else, Casanova. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” you nodded and met his eyes as you felt your friends hand grab at yours and start to tug, “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

As you and your friends made to leave the bar, you turned back in time to see Juice being pushed and pulled by his friends who were obviously proud of their boy for getting a girl’s number.

“What was he like?” Your friend asked eagerly. You chuckled quietly.

“He was the worst flirt I’ve ever met.”

[super-unpredictable98]

Head First (Robert Sheehan RPF)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: strong language

a/n: Okay then, the time comes for my first RPF... I decided to write something fluffy, totally silly and simple, and mostly something you could all relate to, tried to make it so everyone can see themselves. Hope it works lol

(Masterlist)

It all started with that interview. You were PMSing hard and your cramps were killing you.

"Sorry, I'm not gonna bother you during your press day," you mumbled on your way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some paracetamol and a heating pad. I'll be out of your hair."

"Hey, you still hurting?" Rob asked with a worried frown.

"Yeah, this month is kicking my ass. I think I'm gonna take a nap."

"C'mere," he said, patting his thigh. "I'll warm you up."

"But the interview..." You looked at the laptop prepped on a pile of books on the coffee table. The press for the new season of Umbrella Academy was about to start and your relationship was still not public, so your plan was to stay in the bedroom the whole time preferably quiet.

"Don't worry about that, just lay down over here and take your nap, nobody will even see you," he assured.

The fact that he wanted to stay close to you at that time meant a lot and you simply couldn't resist.

So you slept for about an hour while he answered the questions and played games, all while gently running his fingers through your hair and rubbing your lower stomach. It was all going well until a sudden sound woke you up, and still disoriented, you lifted your head.

"What's wrong?" You murmured.

"Nothing, love, it's okay," Robert stoked your back and you settled back down.

"Who's there with you?" The interviewer asked with a chuckle.

"It's my girlfriend, she wasn't feeling so well and I couldn't leave her alone."

"Is y/n okay?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, she just needs to rest."

And that was it. All hell breaks loose online after that five second interaction. Even if your boyfriend assured you there was nothing to worry about and you didn't 'ruin' anything, you still had a horrible feeling about that.

Later that week while Robert cooked dinner, you were taking a quick look at Tumblr. It had been a while since you posted anything or checked your dash, and oh man... It was filled with opinions. Both good and bad, but everyone had something to say.

The gifs from the interview, more specifically the moment where your head is visible were spreading like wildfire. Pictures pinpointing every detail of your forehead and eyebrows, memes, and people had already reached your Instagram.

Luckily your name on Tumblr was just a random witty joke, so no one knew you were there, but the comments on your pictures and new followers were starting to fill your notifications prompting you to private your account, not to mention all the tweets and even some tiktoks.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. A little scary taking into consideration that some people were somewhat upset. There were no death threats (yet), but there were enough remarks about your looks, your age, your weight, and your voice to leave you uneasy. Most people were nice, but the ones who weren't were always louder and the first ones to show up.

Didn't know Robert was doing charity work

Man needs glasses LMAAO

She must have a great personality...

One particular Tumblr thread caught your attention. It was someone you knew from your time as an avid consumer and creator of the hillsite.

Essentially, the thread was a passive-aggressive rant about how you were not his type but it was so sweet and kind of him to give someone like you a chance, mentioning that you were probably faking not feeling well just to mark your territory by showing up seemingly accidentally.

"Y/n is the one dating him, you just sound jealous," you murmured to yourself as you typed that response. "At the end of the day, who's there? The ugly bitch you despise so much."

Okay, that wasn't your proudest moment. Your emotions got the best of you and you just wanted to fight back and make this person feel bad like they did to you.

"What's wrong, darling?" Rob asked, noticing how quiet you were.

As he closed the oven and made his way to the couch, you immediately shut the computer. He had no idea you had that account from years ago and you hoped he would never find out.

"Nothing," you smiled, opening your arms to embrace him.

"I know you, c'mon, spit it out," he chuckled, tickling your sides. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

"It's nothing serious, just your fans are kinda tearing me a new one right now," you laughed, trying to make it seem like you didn't care. "Some of them anyway."

"Oh, I see," Robert nodded. "Hey, I'm sorry some people are giving you a hard time just for being with me. I love you, no one's opinion is ever gonna change that, but reading that shit is just gonna make you spiral."

You wanted to be as relaxed as he was, the world could be on fire and he would take it as an opportunity to make s'mores. Usually you were good at letting things go, but being a target like that was very hard to ignore.

"I know, I shouldn't be wasting my time with this, but-"

"But you're curious, aren'tcha? Why would you care what a handful of dickheads has to say?" He smirked knowingly. "Believe me. This is one day for you, about 20 years for me. Just trust me on this, okay? Dinner's almost ready."

"I'll try..." You said, already reaching for your phone to check your notifications.

"Nonono, give it to me," Robert snatched it from your hand and held it up in the air, way too high for you to reach. "I made your favorite, we're gonna eat and talk and forget this social media hell. This is why I don't like this shit."

"But, Rob-"

"No buts," he insisted, stealing a kiss. "If you wanna read something so bad, read my manuscript and tell me what you think before I send it to my editor. Either that or I'll have to keep you distracted in other ways."

"Hmmm... Yeah, that might not be so bad."

**

Tag List:@seanfalco​ @salvador-daley

[havenoffandoms]

Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it! 

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?” 

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road. 

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level. 

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber. 

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick. 

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months. 

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.” 

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer. 

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens. 

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden. 

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.” 

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…” 

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off. 

“You mean that?” 

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.” 

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again.  Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent. 

Lambert can live with that, he thinks. 

Request a prompt.

[softomi]

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen. 

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

[bixbythemartian]

Here for dual purposes

A) I'm not sure if this matters to you with the creative commons thing, but your story is floating around in screen grabs on Instagram but it does have your previous username visible and idk which instagram account posted it bc it wasn't me that found it

But I know this bc

B) I had the absolutely delightful experience of my brother asking me if I'd read this one story and then proceeded to show me the Instagram post of tumblr screenshots of your "kicking the food/feeding the cryptid/new friend time. Ish." story and I got to be like "yeah!!! I follow him!" and then I pulled up Tumblr on my phone with your pinned post of stories, specifically the wizard/kitchen/cheese one and gave him my phone. Then I got to read over his shoulder/watch him grinning and laughing under his breath in enjoyment of your writing. We quote funny things back and forth and I'm positive that we're gonna be quoting that one: "That earned him a steak" + "right" "and you said my house was-" "yes" xD

Thank you for sharing your writing, I've enjoyed it a lot on my own and it was cool to share it with my sib tonight! I hope your night has some unexpected but appreciated goodness in it

I apologize, your question gave me a chance to say something I've been meaning to for a while, it gets a little long so bear with me.

my stuff being screen capped on instagram has been going on for years now, and for my own mental health I decided my best option was... to not give a shit about it.

I was extremely distressed when I discovered it the first time (probably not too long after I published the thing under the fridge story, that's the first one I wrote that did big numbers) and a lot of people told me I should do DMCA stuff and try to get it taken down. People offered to help me walk through it, they were very well meaning, but I had a panic attack so bad I quit the internet in general for a while, and had to think about it from a lot of different angles.

If I gave a shit about the screencappers, I would have to stop publishing stories, to preserve my mental health.

I just do not have the spoons to hunt that shit down every time one of my story does numbers. I barely have the spoons to write the damn things, it's why they're so infrequent. If I cared, I can't write like this anymore.

However: I like publishing stories, and I think they make people happy and contribute a little bit to everybody having a better day, so that's a net gain broadly, even if it's a tiny one.

So I decided that I just am not going to give a shit about it. If people want to comment with links to my tumblr, that's fine, but nobody needs to go on a mission. I suspect it's the inevitability of doing numbers on social media, these days.

(And yeah, I'm at peace with the fact that a lot of the screen grabs are of my old user name, I knew that was gonna happen when I made the switch in names. What can ya do.)

THAT all said:

I do love that story, the wizard story was one of the first prompted stories I published on tumblr, and it's got a special place in my heart. My particular favorite line is: "You know. Whole ass wizard in my kitchen."

I'm so glad you got to share something you love with your brother! That's always wonderful, and it's very cool that it was my work. Tell your brother I said 'hi!'

[shesawriter39049]

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now!  Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students. 

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid  sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright  baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!” 

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is- 

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell  just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now. 

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with. 

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood  immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn  enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi.  A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert. 

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans  head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck”  You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck!  Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well.  “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno,  you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K...  “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that”  You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household.  So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!  

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and  he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her  to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans.  “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

[raith-way]

Fandom: DCEU / Suicide Squad

Fic: Memento Vivere

Pairing: Revina Revnic/Rick Flag

Kiss Prompt 10: …desperately

Requested By: @asirensrage

Tagging: @jinxsflame @hughstheforcelou @uno-reverse-reversed @hiddenqveendom @ocfairygodmother @jewelswrites-ish

The Mission Comes First

Rev had learned, what felt like a lifetime ago now, to fear the words routine mission. Any time a mission became routine, she knew to keep on guard because some kind of shit was going to hit life’s proverbial fan. Despite knowing that, she had let herself relax. Because the mission had been a simple one. Her and Harley had been the only ones deployed, into a dark nightclub filled with music that she could feel vibrating in her soul and bodies sliding against each other with wild abandon. It made her crave the quiet, but she got a kick out of watching Harley mingle and enjoy time outside of her cage. As far as the mission went, they were just doing a little recon. (Rev’s first specialty.) Watch, listen, learn, report. It was the kind of mission that she could do with her mind completely disconnected. Instincts picking up the important bits while her thoughts strayed.

Harley danced, Rev observed, and Rick talked into her ear the whole time. Strict orders that kept her eyes sharp and whispered words that made her thighs tense. For a little while, it was the best mission ever. Harley was distracting the crowd with what looked like an impromptu dance battle, giving Rev a clear view of their target and his dealings, and Rick was dripping filth over their private comm about all the things they were going to do as soon as this mission was over. Her body had started to move along with the masses as she imagined a completely different body pressed against hers, and that was when it happened. When the routine mission flipped, ass-up, and she had frozen inside the club as she heard strange voices over the comm.

Focusing on the mission had been torture after that, because the comm had gone silent. The private channel and the public one. She gave Rick five minutes, she trusted him enough to take care of himself, but she could only control herself for five minutes. Once time was up, she started jumping with the crowd just a little out of beat. She caught Harley’s eyes, and she knew the woman could understand her because she clapped her hands in the air and pulled attention to herself. Rev used the window of opportunity to slip out of the club unnoticed, and she could hear the heavy door clang behind her as she strained to see around her. Rick’s command center for the night was nearby, and that was where she went. Started at a leisurely walk and then slowly built into a jog, until she was nearly running. The nightclub had been in one warehouse, and Rick was set up at a different warehouse far enough away to not be noticeable. Too fucking far away, in her opinion.

The first body was a bit of a shock. Neck twisted at an odd angle, sprawled across the ground, but she didn’t slow her run and just jumped over the body instead of stopping to inspect. The second body was less of a shock, face and chest shining wet and red in the darkness, and she jumped over the body and upped her speed. By the time she reached the warehouse she was looking for, she had vaulted over two other very obviously dead bodies and was breathing heavy from the panic rather than the fast pace. The next shock came from the bright light inside the warehouse, and she skidded to a stop in front of the rolled-up door. Just outside of the falling light. The thick leather heels of her boots caused some noise, enough to get some attention, and Rick’s eyes snapped up to hers.

“The fuck’re you doin’ here, Revnic?” Using her surname wasn’t a good sign, but she didn’t care about which of her names that he was using because she could clearly see blood. He was sitting behind a table, just a plain white fold-up table, and leaned back in his chair. The coat he was wearing to ward off the chill was gaping open, showing the dark shirt underneath, and she could clearly see rips in the material. Rips from blades. On the floor under him, she could see grouped drops of blood. (Not puddles of blood. He wasn’t bleeding that much.)

“Strange voices, dark comm, what the fuck?” No one had ever accused her of not getting to the point, and she completely ignored Rick’s I’m-the-team-leader-show-some-respect glare.

“I was doing a perimeter check, and I got stabbed,” he answered as he sat up straighter. He visibly winced as he slumped forwards in his chair, like she wouldn’t worry if he hid the damage behind the table, and she reached up to pull at her hair. Her stupidly dyed hair that had been dyed for this stupid mission, where Rick had been stabbed while not even being involved in the mission part of the mission.

“What? Why’d you get stabbed?” she rushed out. If they’d been found out, someone would have come after her or Harley. Why go after Rick? Better yet, how’d they get the jump on Rick?

“Not like I stopped to interrogate them. I was a little busy with being stabbed,” he mumbled and rubbed absently at his jaw. Had one of them clocked him? He quit rubbing at his face and pressed his fingers against his temple as he looked right at her. “I got a little distracted.”

“Are you telling me that you can’t handle phone sex and not getting stabbed at the same time?” She finally marched forward, out of the darkness and into the harsh light of the warehouse Rick had claimed, and she bit down on her grin as Rick instinctively sat up straight in his chair.

“It wasn’t phone sex,” he complained. As soon as she was close enough, she grabbed at his shoulder and pushed him back in the chair.

“Comm sex sounds stupid.” She was talking while pulling up the dark tee that he was wearing, and she swiped her hand across the blood that had streaked down his torso. She heard him hiss through his teeth, but she could see now that the wounds themselves weren’t so bad. Two lucky strikes, enough to break the skin and make a mess, but he probably wouldn’t even need stitches. Just a big band-aid slapped on for a day or two.

“Mission ain’t over, Revnic,” he told her as she swung her leg over his lap. Her shirt was dark enough that it wouldn’t show bloodstains, and it wasn’t like she’d care if she did walk back into the club with blood all over her shirt.

“Just checking on my team leader.” She kept one hand pressed against his stomach, high up on the left with already drying blood sticking to her skin, as she leaned forward and knocked her chin against his. “Next time you need to take a break to kill some interlopers, you keep me on.”

“That get you off, Rev?” The words were said against her lips, warm breath against her skin and the taste of the mints that he favored slipping down her tongue, and her free hand locked around his neck with enough force to leave bruises in the shapes of her fingertips along his hairline.

“Knowing you’re alive gets me off.” She whispered the words into him, so that he could taste the truth of what she’d said, and she thought of his voice cutting off. Of not being able to hear him. Of not knowing if he was alive or not.

Before she could have another thought, of Rick dying or him killing four men while she danced with strangers, they crashed together. She bit at his lips until he cursed against her teeth and gripped her hips hard enough to ache, and she lost herself in him. They pushed and pulled at each other, desperate to leave marks that belonged to them, and she ducked down to feel the thundering pulse in his throat pushing against her tongue. Sealed her lips around the thin skin and sucked, nipped with her teeth and pulled, to leave a mark over the place that proved he was alive. She could feel fresh blood against her hands as her fingers curled against his skin, like she could pull him apart and bury herself inside his chest cavity right next to his beating heart, and she could feel her hair being pulled as she was ripped away from his skin so that his lips could devour hers. Her mouth felt hot and sensitive, bruises were blooming across her hips and thighs, and it wasn’t enough.

When Rick pulled away, she actually whined. A high-pitched sound slipped from her throat as her hips rocked forwards, and Rick sat up straight to hold her steady against him. One hand curled around the back of her thigh, fingers pressing in, and the tight grip he had on her hair allowed him to hold her back. Even if she did lose a few strands of hair while trying to taste the jumping muscle in his jaw. Her eyes opened to look at him, to see how his usual stern expression hardened into something that echoed the hunger in her, and she tipped her head back to bare her throat as she let out another quiet sound of need.

“We have a guest,” Rick said slowly. He was looking directly at her, looking at the way her tongue swiped across her bottom lip as she chased the taste of him, and she forced herself to focus. Behind her, she could hear heavy leather shifting against concrete.

“Don’t stop on my account, boss. I’m gettin’ quite the show,” Harley told them cheerfully. Mission, right. If Harley was here, that meant that the mission was over. (Could also mean that Harley had gotten worried and decided to check on them, or it could mean that she had gotten impatient and just killed the target. Rev was okay with all the options.)

“Love ya, Harls, but… no,” Rev said and looked over her shoulder. When she bowed her spine to look over her shoulder without dislodging Rick’s hand from her hair, her hips rolled forward and Rick’s fingers slipped to grip at her inner thigh. From her bent angle, she could see Harley pouting and kicking at the ground.

“Always ruinin’ the fun,” Harley sighed. Rick echoed the sigh, so perfectly that Rev almost laughed, but she was saved from getting that lecture as Rick suddenly gripped her hips and lifted her from his lap.

“Harley, report,” he snapped out. Harley straightened, standing at perfect attention, and even her salute was right on point. Once Rick was standing, Rev dropped to sit in his chair and waited for the debrief to be over. In the meantime, she had some plans to make.

[phantom-curve]

Happy 2nd Borthday!! From your prompt list, 24 or 29 for Willex? AU your choice.

Thank you! So, I somehow managed to combine both of these prompts and it may or may not be absolute chaos. Inspired by the time my husband told me he learned to take my tickle aversion seriously after I full on kicked him in the balls, please enjoy ticklish Alex and regretful Willie, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive!

#24: whispering in their ear, lips touching skin & #29: tickling the other one (Rated T for language)

So, it probably hadn’t been the smartest choice to let Willie know just how ticklish he was. Usually, Alex kept that little tidbit to himself as long as he possibly could. Maybe it was because Luke, Reggie, and Bobby had figured it out in third grade and continued to use it to their advantage every chance they got. Maybe it was because his dad always told him that real men weren’t ticklish. Whatever the reason, Alex didn’t typically share how ridiculously sensitive to tickling he was unless he absolutely had to. And right now, he was desperately wishing he hadn’t ever told Willie about it. Because what he had also neglected to tell Willie, was exactly how violently he reacted to tickling. And not in a cute way, but in an actual I will seriously hurt you way.

Which was why Willie was currently rolling around the floor of the Molina’s studio, curled in on himself, moaning in pain.

“Willie?! Oh my God, I am so sorry!”

Alex wanted nothing more than to reach out to comfort the other boy but given the fact that he had just elbowed him full force directly below the belt, it didn’t really feel like his comfort would be appreciated. Willie didn’t respond with much more than a quiet groan and Alex’s guilt grew exponentially.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna...I’m gonna go grab some ice and I’ll be right back!”

He fled from the studio before Willie had a chance to respond, tearing up the path from the studio to the Molina’s house as if his feet were on fire. Julie, bent over a Calculus book with Luke hovering distractedly at her side, raised a judgmental brow as he burst into the kitchen.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having your little study date out in the studio? Where’s Willie?”

“Hmmm, yeah, yes, I am, but uhhhh, I need some ice.”

Alex had already stuck his head in the freezer, rummaging past bagged tamales left by Tía to hunt down the ice pack he knew was lurking somewhere within the frozen depths. Luke chuckled loudly from his spot at the breakfast bar.

“What gives, dude? Did you try and impress him with your mad drum skills and accidentally chuck a drumstick at his head because you were so distracted by his beauty?”

Alex pulled his head from the ice box to stick his tongue out in Luke’s direction.

“No. Not all of us fuck up playing just because the object of our affection happens to smile at us.”

Luke’s cheeks turned a bright red and Alex silently applauded his victory. Luke hadn’t managed to properly play through the bridge of Finally Free once since Julie had started sharing the mic with him during it. Take that Biceps McSleeveless. Julie rolled her eyes, oblivious as always to the underhanded barbs passed between the boys.

“Okay, so, why are you suddenly pawing through my freezer like you’re searching for Narnia? And, again, where’s Willie?”

Alex felt his own cheeks warm to match Luke’s. It wasn’t really worth lying about, even if it meant accepting a certain amount of ribbing from Luke in the aftermath.

“I, uhhh, might have maybe told Willie about how ticklish I am? And I might have maybe hit him in the balls when he tried to test just exactly what I meant??”

Julie, to her credit, maintained a strict poker face. Luke, on the other hand, lost his shit completely, falling off the stool as he laughed his goddamn ass off at Alex’s misfortune.

“It’s not my fault!” Alex tried to protest. “I told him I couldn’t be held accountable for my reactions when I was tickled! I just...didn’t tell him that my reaction might be no holds barred violence? Fuck he’s never gonna go on an actual date with me now.”

Alex felt his shoulders slump, the shame weighing heavy on his conscience. If only he could be like the other boys, normal and not so ticklish that he completely blanked and went into fight or flight mode with his dial always turned to fight. Things had been going so well before the whole tickle incident too! Willie had been kind and patient with Alex as they worked their way through a series of physics questions in his homework. At one point Alex had even sworn that Willie got so close Alex could practically feel his breath along his neck, the atmosphere shifting into a kind of charged tension as Willie whispered directions for solving the problem right into Alex’s ear. Just the thought of Willie’s lips against the skin of his neck had Alex feeling a bizarre mix of hot and cold all over. He shivered at the memory, and then remembered he was standing in front of the open freezer door. Julie squeezed in next to him, grabbing an ice pack from one of the shelves and pressing it into Alex’s hand.

“Lex, breathe, okay? Willie probably feels just as bad for tickling you in the first place. You were as honest as you needed to be about that and he’s probably kicking himself for pushing past your boundaries.”

“Right, yeah, okay? Right? Like...we can both be at fault here, yeah? I can just...go apologize and give him the ice and everything will be okay, right?”

“Right,” Julie agreed, guiding Alex back towards the back door and shooting Luke a death glare as he rolled around the kitchen floor still laughing. “Just...go apologize and see what happens. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Okay...okay,” Alex nodded. “Not the end of the world. I fucking ball racked the dude I’ve had a crush on for months but it’s not the end of the world. Yeah. Okay.”

Julie nodded and practically shoved Alex down the path back to the studio before closing the door behind him, the lock clicking into place as a clear indicator that she would not be letting him back inside before he dealt with this. Alex tripped his way down to the studio and took a deep breath to steel himself before wrenching the garage doors open and slipping back inside. Willie had managed to move from the floor to the couch, though he was still half folded over in pain. Alex offered him the ice pack with a sheepish smile.

“I’m uhhh really fucking sorry about that. I didn’t...I should have warned you that when I said I was really ticklish I actually meant ‘don’t tickle me unless you want to be violently assaulted.’”

Willie looked up at him through his long, messy brown locks, taking the ice pack with a kind of dignity Alex only wished he could fake right then. And then, he smiled, actually fucking smiled, like everything was fine.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I shouldn’t have tried to test it. You told me you were ticklish, and I should have left it at that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Made me...made me uncomfortable? Willie, I fucking elbowed you in the...!”

Alex gestured helplessly and then realized exactly what he was doing and let out a high-pitched whine of embarrassment. Willie giggled softly.

“I mean, I was kind of asking for it. You have a right to react like that when someone touches you in a way that you don’t like. I’m just mostly sorry that I took advantage of you like that. I swear that was not how I pictured our first date going.”

Alex’s brain short circuited. Nothing but a blank blue screen as Willie’s words repeated in his mind endlessly: first date first date first date.

“This was a date?”

Not the best line, but could Alex really be blamed for such a lame response when his brain wasn’t actually properly working anymore?

“I mean...yeah I was kind of hoping it was?”

Willie laughed quietly, only a small bit of awkwardness tinging his tone.

“No, no...I mean, yeah! I...I also wanted it to be a date...if that’s...cool with you?”

Look, Alex had never claimed to be smooth. Socially awkward and anxious, yes. Smooth? Hell no. Willie stood, stepping close to Alex until the scent of his coconut shampoo tickled Alex’s nose. He dropped the ice pack to the floor with a plop, reaching up to move an errant strand of hair out of Alex’s face with ice cold fingers. Alex felt frozen to the spot, especially as Willie leaned in close, just like before, so that Alex could feel his hot breath across his neck, his words floating through the small space to twist themselves into Alex’s ear.

“Hey Alex, wanna go on a date with me?”

Alex stuttered for a short second, desperately searching for the only acceptable words to answer a question like that.

“Yes...yeah...yes, definitely.”

Willie laughed again and Alex could swear he felt the way the other boy’s lips quirked into a smile against his skin.

“Awesome. I promise not to tickle you this time.”

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Teenage Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: this is LONG so please dont let this flop

prompt: y/n is 12-16, takes place from Avengers 1 to Avengers 2

The Early Years (1) The Intense Years (3) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

starting out with tony powering stark tower with clean energy:

it was very late, you were supposed to be asleep

“what are you doing up, missy? it’s way past your bedtime”

“it’s my fault, i let her stay up to see her dad’s big achievement” -pepper

just vibing on the couch with absolutely no intention of sleeping anytime soon

you really did take after your dad

“how was the show, sweetheart?”

“uh, cool?”

coulson showing up when he did

you were excited bc you knew he had to be there for superhero stuff

“hi, agent coulson!!”

“hey there, kiddo!

BEGGING to come with your dad

“no. absolutely not. there is absolutely no way im letting you get involved in any of this”

you got involved

but like, not the whole “im a 12 year old superhero” involved

“y/n, sweetie, this is dr. banner, you’re gonna be his assistant in the lab!”

“—what?” *bruce utterly shocked*

talking that man’s ear off oh my GOD

he taught you a few things along the way, though

it ended up being very educational

“yeah i built my own suit! it’s definitely not as cool as my dad’s...and he put a bunch of safety controls on it. obviously, i could bypass them and do whatever i wanted, but it’s best not to break his trust, you know?”

“you are astonishingly wise for a 12 year old”

bruce being kind of scared around you because he thinks he could hurt you

also scared you might hurt yourself on the scepter

CASUALLY talking to the rest of the avengers

“so, you’re stark’s daughter? now i’ve met three generations of starks.” -steve

“oh, wonderful, there’s a smaller one!” -thor

“hey, y/n, it’s good to see you again. still practicing those moves i showed you?” -natasha

listennnn as you got older you started to exert more of your father’s personality traits

you developed his sarcastic and occasionally ill-timed humor...and

YOU WERE COCKY AS FUCK

“i mean, i’m not saying that i’m better than you but i know you’re thinking it”

when the helicarrier was attacked nobody really knew the correct way to protect you

“dad? dad??”

“right here, y/n, come with me”

tony brought your suit for emergency purposes

“you put this on and you stay here, understand?”

oh, another thing you got from him? NOT LISTENING

helping where you could, the first step to becoming a superhero, right?

being really upset when coulson died

but understanding that it was apart of the job

going back to new york for some alien ass kicking and having the whole team check on you every thirty seconds

“y/n, how’s it going?” “stark junior, are you doing okay?” “need any help out there, kid?”

“you guys don’t have to babysit me” “i’m still kickin’ it, thanks”

tony calling right before he went through the wormhole

“hey sweetheart, just gotta let you know that i love you and i am so proud of everything you’ve done”

the avengers holding you back from him when he fell back to the ground because you were unreasonably worried for obvious reasons

“is he breathing? steve? steve, let me see him! JARVIS, are you there?”

falling on the ground and hugging him (with your clunky-ass armor still on)

“hey! yeah, i missed you too”

*clink clink* pat on the back

schwarma stop

“you’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it”

having your own input on the stark tower remodel

taking a slight pause for random stuff

you’ve definitely drawn his mustache/goatee on your face before

“please tell me that’s not permanent marker”

“it’s permanent marker”

you and pepper doing mother/daughter things for bonding (but you and her already had a great relationship)

unreasonable amount of cussing from your father has rubbed off onto you and now he doesn’t notice when you say bad words

natasha taught you how to shoot so that was cool

“if i can shoot a repulsor, i think i can shoot a gun”

“whatever you say, baby stark”

obviously the team is just a bunch of protective uncles and an aunt

“i miss [insert avenger here]”

resume to iron man 3

just tinkering in the shop with pops

“are you sure that’s safe, dad?”

“duh, why wouldn’t it be safe?”

you were right and it was not safe

sometimes you proved your dad wrong and it made him happy?

“well would you look at that, you’re right”

learning how to help your dad with his anxiety and panic attacks

the house in malibu got blown up and your dad disappeared

you were benched by pepper effective immediately

“don’t you think it would be better if i were still out there? someone has to be out there and...i don’t know, protect the people?”

“y/n, please, you’re still a kid. i can excuse fighting aliens but i draw the line at terrorism”

“you can excuse fighting aliens??”

pepper sent you to a different house and hired a...babysitter

zip zip zip its AOU time yall remember the beginning of that at the hydra base

*explosion* “oh, shit! didn’t mean to do that...”

“watch your language, y/n!” -cap

“don’t tell my daughter what to do!”

having an external monologue that everyone just kind of rolls with

“glad i put a heater in this suit” “anyone up for burgers?” *humming Eye of the Tiger*

going back to the lab with tony and bruce and being very uncomfortable with the idea of ultron

“okay dad, you know how im usually right?”

“lighten up, kiddo. remember what i taught you about trial and error? this is a learning experience”

*bruce and you side eying*

“i’ll ground you”

“what?!”

“kidding, im kidding”

a lot of kid jokes from other partygoers

“isnt it past your bedtime”

“very funny”

actually dressing up nice for a change, as opposed to an oil-stained band tee

but then ur outfit was ruined because you had to shoot murder bots :(

“not cool! i designed this room!”

tony still got all the blame for ultron while you and bruce went 😬

tony made a joke about ultron being your brother and you didn’t talk to him for hours

“oh, come on! you have to learn to laugh at your mistakes!”

“poor choice of words, stark” -literally everyone

🎶getting to see your worst feaaar🎶

which was a mixture between tony not surviving the wormhole and being abandoned and vulnerable again

your phone got confiscated “because of ultron”

meeting wanda and pietro on better terms

“you are stark’s daughter?”

“um, yeah, that’s me. i sincerely apologize for anything he’s ever done wrong while i’ve been alive”

actually getting along with them (plus you were in a similar age range)

“uncle rhodey!!!”

“staying out of trouble, i hope?”

“define ‘trouble’”

okay okay, enough of that. besides a few robots hitting you and you hitting harder...and ultron taking a couple personal jabs at you after accessing some of your social media accounts...it went back to normal(ish)

you made a friend of wanda and visited the avengers compound weekly and helped with training

and nat gave you some spy pointers to help you if you ever found yourself without the suit

when you left the compound after thor that day, you had some nice father/daughter time

“why don’t i give you a driving lesson, yeah?”

“you’re gonna trust me to drive this thing?”

“sure, why not?”

you drove very fast, wonder where you learned that from

he was clasping onto the seats and whispering curse words

“next time, you can drive with happy”

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Ok, so I’ve tried and tried several times to get this posted, we’ll see if this is the time it goes through. Half the reason why this review series has slowed down is not just the multitude of real life stuff I have to deal with, but also Tumblr just refusing to work with me and deleting my posts. I also can’t save my work else where due to Tumblr messing up the formatting. It’s been a frustrating mess and so far no one @staff​ has come up with a tech solution or work around. 

Summary: Rapunzel helps to rebuild Old Corona, (after its near destruction from the Black Rocks) which will become the permanent home of Red and Angry, who have returned to Corona to settle down. However, she begins to notice strange footprints around the area, as well as the livestock becoming more unruly and fearful. The group comes across a monster hunter named Creighton, who explains to the group that the area is being stalked by a werewolf, who possessed one of Corona's citizens. Aiming to save this person rather than kill them, Rapunzel sets out to find who it is. 

When Was This Decided?

No seriously, when was this decided? It’s a pretty big leap go from ‘the rocks makes various towns inhabitable’ to ‘let’s rebuild!’ What’s changed here? Cause the rocks haven’t been removed and Rapunzel failed in her mission to nullify their power. In fact the rocks were not only reawaken in the second season finale but shown to be under the power of someone who’s intentions were made unclear to the heroes.

So I ask again; who thought this was safe thing to do now? What provisions have been made to accommodate the rocks? They blocked the well, remember, and destroyed the fields; how are the people getting food and water? 

And most importantly why wasn’t the audience informed beforehand? When you change up the status quo in a story you need to provide just cause to the viewers. I legit thought I had accidently skipped an episode when I first watched because this plot point was not set up properly.  

Why Were They Ever Left Alone to Begin With?

In a story where neglect is a central theme and motivating factor for all the main characters, it is super tone deaf to have those same characters perpetuating neglect themselves. The decision to live on their own should not be left up to Angry and Red because they are children. Children are not mature enough to provide for themselves neither emotionally nor physically and when placed in situations where they have to do so it psychologically damages them. Which the series already showcased with Varian so why is this suddenly deemed ok? 

This Completely Undermines the Past Two Seasons

The entire conflict of the past two seasons was the rocks forcing people out of their homes. Eugene was made an orphan from them, Varian lost his entire support group because them, they drove out the Saporians from their encampment which prompted them to invade Corona, and Rapunzel and company spent an entire year on the road trying to find a way to stop them from spreading supposedly. 

All of that has now been flushed down the drain with this decision. And its super insulting to watch because it’s the writers telling us that we’ve wasted our time caring about this plot for two years. You don’t resolve major conflicts off screen and without explanation; it’s lazy!  

Also Where Is Varian and Quirin During All This?

This is not only their home and legal charge, but it’s also the ending to their ongoing story, and they’re not even here in a silent cameo. 

Wouldn’t Quirin be overseeing the rebuilding of his town? Wouldn’t Varian be using his skills to find workable engineering solutions for them, fulling his season one goal of saving his home and making his village better with his inventions? Also wouldn’t Edmund want to catch up with his brother and help out now that he’s here? 

In fact not a single person who actually lives in Old Corona is to be found in these opening shots. 

Oh, But We Do Get Earl

Earl might be from Old Corona, or he might not be. We’ve literally never seen him before. The artists had to create a brand new character model for this character, the writers had to write new lines for him, and the casting director had to hire an actor and have him record these lines for only less than a minute of screen time, never to be seen again. Even though they legit had shepherd models already to go from season one that they could have used. It’s a waste of resources and a prime example of the mismanagement going on in this show. 

It’s Too Late In the Series to Waste Time On a New One Off Villain

Speaking of a waste, Creighton might have more story reasons to appear in this episode than Earl does but her inclusion is still a poor decision. The show already has an overabundance of villains, so many in fact that they shipped the bulk of them off in season two, and this is the final season; the season where we should be wrapping up plots and minor characters stories not kicking off new ones.

Taken on her own Creighton isn’t a bad character presa, she works for the episode, but when we could have gotten a resolution to Caine’s, Hector’s, or the Disciples’ story arcs instead it highlights how misused the series assets are. 

All This Lore Will Be Forgotten In Just a Few Episodes Time

We finally get like some magical rules and backstory only for future episodes to ignore it from here on afterwards. Red can turn into a werewolf whenever she pleases, night or day, with little explanation as for why.  

Just Arrest Her Rapunzel

You’re the acting queen. You have the power and the right to arrest or even merely detain someone who is threating your citizens and refuses to leave. In fact it’s kind of your job. You don't even have to throw her in a dungeon if you thought that too cruel. Just lock her up in a nice room somewhere in the castle until you’ve sorted out the mess yourself. 

The series wants to treat Rapunzel as the underdog when she isn’t, and her failure to wield her power effectively doesn’t make her look ‘nice’ it just makes her look stupid and grossly incompetent. This is a conflict that didn’t need to have happened and Rapunzel let it happen.  

Oh, So Now Y'all Riot

You didn’t complain when the king orphaned children with his crack down on crime. You rolled over as he dolled out overly harsh punishments to poor people who committed minor offences. You gleefully went along with the royals as they  scapegoated a child for their mistakes, even as they endangered your homes.  And ya’ll sat on your asses while invaders pulled off a coup and enslaved you. 

But this is what you get mad over? A rumor about a mythical creature existing that your princess has zero control over. Seriously? 

Man, I hate the townspeople in this show. 

Pointless Dream Sequence Is Pointless

This scene tells the audience nothing new and just wastes screen time. 

This Is the Wrong Lesson to Focus On Rapunzel

We do not tell the 12 year old to unload their phycological issues onto their baby sister!

You’re telling me parents were involved in writing this show? What the hell!?

Rapunzel you are the adult here. At 20 now you should be more adept to handle listening to the deep seated emotional traumas of a little girl than a fucking 10 year old! And if you’re not, or don’t want to, then it’s your job to find another adult who will. 

That’s the core problem with this entire episode. It treats Red’s and Angry’s problems as some eternal issue that they need to work out and not as the inherent failure of the adults around them that it is. 

It is neither Red’s nor Angry’s decision on weather or not they get live on their own. Nor is it their responsibility to be each other’s therapist. Yes, a change in living arrangements is always stressful and for children with abandonment issues it can be hard to readjust, but that’s when you need to step it up and deal with the problem; not shove it off onto the kids themselves! 

Monty Is Useless

Is this all Monty is good for? Being a red herring in ridiculously simple mysteries? Is this why we wasted a whole episode introducing him back in season one? Really?

Why Are We Still Treating Old Corona As Being Separate from Corona Itself?

Look, I get that it’s a joke, but it’s a joke that highlights how poorly thought out the worldbuilding is in the series. Is the Coronan government in charge of Old Corona or not? If so then you can just make those lease laws yourself as the acting regent Eugene. If not then Frederic shouldn’t have had any say in the matter of relocating Old Corona’s citizens nor putting a child outside of his jurisdiction under arrest.

But more importantly this is a just a repeat of that vague level of responsibility Rapunzel has for people who live off the island. She can’t order a whole village to be rebuilt while simultaneously claiming that she bares no accountability for Varian and Quirin’s problems in season one. 

Replacing Guns with Crossbows Isn’t the Safe Option That the Censors Think It Is

I find it kind of amusing that censors will ban showing a 17th century blunderbuss but allow it to be replaced by a weapon that is still mass produced today and can be bought in any Walmart across the country. Like I’m a major advocate for gun regulation in real life, but even I have to find this to be a bit silly. Crossbows aren’t some fantasy weapon. People still own and use them. But it would be seriously hard to get ahold of a working antique firearm.  

Seriously This Is How the Girls Have Been Living and the Adults Haven’t Done Anything About It Until Now?

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse by now, but it’s so engrained into the episode I have to keep bringing it up. The show itself is visually telling us that Red and Angry can’t keep living this way, but it never wants to call Rapunzel and the other adults out for not rescuing them from this life sooner. 

So All This Tells Me Is That Rapunzel Could Have Easily Checked Up On Varian In Painter’s Block, But Didn’t.

Remember they’re right next to Old Corona; meaning that Janus Point is also right next to Old Corona. Meaning that Rapunzel could easily have checked up on Varian right after Painter’s Block and choose not to. With each passing episode Rapunzel has less and less excuse for her behavior in season one. 

Yeah Remember that Plot Point That Wound Up Being Entirely Irrelevant to the Story?

In jokes don’t cover your ass when you make poor writing choices. Quite the opposite in fact as all you’ve done is remind the audience of all the various dangling plot threads that you will fail to follow up on. The disciples plot goes no where and serves no purpose, and it should not have been introduced as this big important thing if you weren’t going to do anything with it. 

Nice Idea, Poor Execution

I’ve heard fans of this episode tell me that they enjoy it because of this scene with Red. If you’re a naturally introverted person or neurodivergent and have trouble communicating at times then Red’s speech here can strike a cord. Which is cool; I’ll never deny someone’s feelings and if a piece of media speaks to you on a personal level for whatever reason that is great. What I’m here to discuss though is story structure and whether or not the story’s themes are presented well in context of what it’s set up. 

The conflict here does not work from a pure structural standpoint because it’s a surface level deflection of the real issues. Red’s problem isn’t that she is being ignored, it's that she’s been abandoned. Now communication issues can arise from that abandonment and feeling heard can be step forward in working those issues out, but Red’s central trauma isn’t going to be magically fixed by people ‘listening’ to her, i.e. being granted whatever she wants, but by providing her with a real home and with a real guardian to look after her. 

Because what Red wants on a surface level is harmful to her, and the reasons why she wants what she wants needs to be addressed more so than then sedating her angry outbursts in the moment. This is treating the symptoms not the cause.

So What Is or Isn’t Real About the Curse?

Once again, we finally get some actual lore and rules for magic and the writers are already throwing it away during the same episode they are introduced. I now have as little context for how the wolf curse works within the Tangled world as I did before the episode started. 

This Is Sweet, But Once Again Context Brings It Down.

So just to reiterate, this a surface level resolution to the conflict of the episode that doesn’t actually address anything. It might feel like an appropriate ending but only if you ignore the fact that Red and Angry are orphans who’ve been abandoned but the adults. 

Angry apologizing here to Red does not solve any of their problems, especially since Angry, as a child herself, is not responsible for her sister’s behavior, feelings, nor well being. That falls to the adults and they fail to address Red’s core issues and their own failings to her in their apologies as well. Not to mention that the very next scene undermines any optional progress that could have been made here. 

Listening to Someone Does Not Mean Giving Them Whatever They Want

This does not fix anything. Red and Angry are still left to live on their own without any real supervision. Giving them a big play house is not providing for them, it’s spoiling them. Would you let all the other orphans in the local orphanage roam free without an adult to take care of them? No!? Gee I wonder why? Could it be because letting a 12 and 10 year old raise themselves is a very stupid idea? One that will potentially damage them later in life assuming that they don't get themselves killed in the meantime. 

Moreover this is yet another example of the series overall problem with not understanding that compromise and resolving conflicts does not mean rewarding the characters at the end with everything that they want without having them work for it. That’s not how life works and it’s not how good story telling works. 

This Is Beyond Irresponsible

No! Bad Show! Bad! 

You do not get to pretend that negligence is the same thing as compromise. Yes I know Eugene said to come to him when they have a problem, but as demonstrated by this very episode children do not always know when to ask for help nor can they always find it when needed, that is why parents exist!  

Nor does the show get a free pass for turning it’s main characters into child abusers who neglected three minors multiple times now. Even when they themselves are victims of that same abuse!

How utterly blinkered do you have to be to not see the problem here? 

It’s the Return of the Pointless Parallels

Let me count the ways for how stupid this is. 

Red and Angry’s conflict has no impact on the on going narrative. Even with them now being reoccurring characters they still manage to contribute nothing to the future storylines involving Cass. 

Neither Rapunzel nor Cassandra learn anything from Red and Angry’s spat; Rapunzel because she refuses to acknowledge her own flaws and Cassandra’s not even here for any of it. 

The sister’s dynamic between Raps and Cass is not well established and the writers mange to piss all over it by series end because of gay baiting and poor writing. Therefore relying on lazy parallels to other siblings in the show to bolster this connection falls flat.  

Red and Angry’s argument has nothing in common with Rapunzel and Cass’s current fighting. One is about abandonment issues and the other is about shallow validation. Trying to tie these two themes together actually winds up undermining both conflicts. 

Red and Angry are children. Rapunzel and Cassandra are not. That very much matters. 

Red and Angry didn’t drag innocent people into their petty bitch fight and endanger them because they wanted to feel special. 

This Makes Zero Sense

I don’t know; she looked pretty happy during Crossing the Line. 

She was also able to control the rocks just fine then, so what happened? 

Not to mention soon after this Zhan Tiri is telling her she needs some sort of incantation to control the rocks, despite being able to already control the rocks.... 

It’s almost as if the writers are full of shit and don’t actually know what they’re doing. 

So Are We Remembering the Burnt Hand or Not?

Does the hand matter or not? Is it ever a motivating factor in what Cassandra decides to do? Is her waning control over the rocks connected to her burnt hand; even though having a burnt hand is what allowed her grab the moonstone in the first place? Did the moonstone heal the hand? Does Raps singing the healing incantation later on heal it? Does Cass have a forever burnt hand? 

Who the fuck knows! 

Not the writers that’s for sure, cause it never comes up again. 

Don’t introduce plot points and then not resolve them. That’s writing 101 guys. 

Wait if she needs the incantation to control the rocks and the angry thing is a lie, then how the heck is she controlling them just now? Make up your dang mind show! 

I swear I lose brain cells whenever I have to rewatch the evil Cassandra plot. It is so dumb  you guys.... so, so dumb. 

Conclusion

It’s not the worst thing ever but series has far better episodes on offer than this one. Even in a season as suck ass as season three. 

So there’s praying that this review posts this time and if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me in my projects feel free to leave a tip on my Ko-Fi. Thank you. 

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

[pallasperilous]

Funny Bone

The other day Supernatural9917 threw out this meme as a cracky Halloween Dean/Cas prompt and I was SO MAD, because I then had to write it:

And so here it is. Goddammit.

Funny Bone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761150 Words: 4930 Castiel/Dean Winchester Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Skeletons, Bad Pick-Up Lines, No Angels AU, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Gore Mature (mentions of lewd acts, canon-typical violence, and some truly horrible pickup lines)

It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland. It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

Discovering the bunker in the first place was a helluva surprise. The whole facility is legitimately batshit; Dead Guys of Letters knew how to live (and, apparently, die. All at once.).

But after plowing through a dozen rooms worth of priceless treasures and crusty boobytraps, even Sam was looking kinda full up on shock and awe.

“We can hit the basement tomorrow,” he said. There was a big smudge of dust across his nose and some cobwebs in his hair.

“Nuh uh,” Dean answered, kicking the door shut with the toe of his boot. “If there’s shit still kicking down there, we gotta clean it out before it cleans us out. It’s that or we’re sleepin’ in the car.”

“Ugh,” Sam said, as if twenty minutes ago he hadn’t been losing his mind over a rare book about werewolf hemorrhoids.

So discovering that the basement included a no-shit actual dungeon felt more like an unanticipated bonus, and stumbling across a skeleton while exploring it barely even registered. Skeletons and dungeons! They go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong.

It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor, inside a big circle of greasy black ash.  It looked a little mildewy in in places. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland.

It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

“Welp,” Dean had said, holstering his gun and wiping his hands on his jeans. “We’re all clear. Let’s head back upstairs, salt the shit out of everything, and then we can pick up some groceries.”

“Do I get to buy a vegetable that doesn’t fit in a bun, or are we still in the refractory period?” Sam snarked from the corridor.

“I don’t see you cookin’, “ Dean started, shuffling back towards the hall, and that’s when the skeleton butted in.

“Are those astronaut pants?” it asked. “Because your ass is outta this world!”

Dean absolutely did not scream, but it’s possible there was a yelp. 

He almost unloaded a clip into it – unclear what that would’ve possibly done, but it’s good to start with the simple, available solutions. Next he nabbed the lighter fluid off of Sam and dumped out half a pound of kosher salt as a chaser and set the fucker alight.

This does not have the intended effect.

“Baby, I’d like to put my meat on your grill,” the skeleton says, greenish flames dancing between its ribs, “because you’re hot, and I’m smokin’.” Then it sits up a little, just enough to shoot Dean some finger guns.

“What the fuck,” Dean says.

Sam makes a little evaluatory noise. “Sexually harassed by a skeleton,” he chuckles. “I think that’s a new one. Even for you. Is that a new one? I know a lot of strange shit went down in Purgatory.”

The skeleton perks up even more at that, grungy eye sockets sweeping up and down Dean’s body. “Are you a time traveler?” it asks. (Maybe he asks, because the voice is pretty deep and dude-ish, although possibly just on account of its vocal cords being leather shoelaces.)

“Wh…no, I’m not a time traveler,” Dean fibs. He’s more of a time trafficking victim, anyway. “Oh, wait, god,” he says. “Please don’t tell me you’re asking that because –“

“– I can see you in my future,” the skeleton finishes, eagerly, and Dean really wishes this thing had eyebrows so he could tell if they’re waggling.

“Yeah, okay. That’s enough for today,” Dean groans. “I need a drink.” He starts to back out of the room as a pre-emptive strike against Bones commenting on how he hates to see Dean leave, but loves to watch him go. Dean’s working on stumbling back again Sam’s left shoe when the skeleton pipes up one last time, this time with a husky, anxious edge.

“I realize that Purgatory isn’t accessible through a simple chronological shift,” it says, teeth chattering. “But it does require travel between modalities, and if you’re capable of that, I would very much like to speak with you again.”

Dean and Sam’s heads slowly swivel back towards the skeleton, like two little pizzas on the same Lazy Susan.

 An hour later, they’re still in the dungeon, working on dousing the skeleton with every possible anti-bad-stuff solution they’ve got, just in case he’s a vampire skeleton or a ghoul skeleton or a witch skeleton or maybe just a wendigo that’s incredibly bad at its job. In between progress reports, he’s still hitting on Dean.

“Dude, don’t you have an off switch somewhere?” Dean asks him.

“Well, Dean, you certainly make me feel like a light switch,–“

“– because you turn me on,” all three of them say in unison.

The skeleton looks a little embarrassed, which is kind of impressive when you think about it. “You’ve…heard that one before?” he asks.

“I spend a lot of time in bars,” Dean deadpans. “Okay, sage is a no-go.”

Sam strikes a line off on the clipboard he found upstairs. “Is this part of a curse or something?” he asks, glancing up at Bones. “Like on top of being a sentient skeleton, you can only speak in horrible pickup lines?”

The skeleton shakes his head, which produces a sound Dean recognizes from his kneecaps on cold mornings. “No, the spellwork allows me to speak freely on most subjects; except who I am, or how to free me. But it’s helpful to use language modern humans can easily understand.”

“Huh. Well, in a way, it is Dean’s native tongue,” Sam says, smirking.

“You shut your face,” Dean hisses.

“When I first saw you, I lost my tongue. Can I try yours on for size?” Bones asks Dean.

“Buddy, I don’t know where you get your information from, but nobody actually talks that way,” Dean tells him. “Nobody sober, anyway. Who isn’t a virgin.”

The skeleton slumps. “I learned from my last visitor. He tried to release me on several occasions, but he either died or abandoned the project.”

Dean arches a brow. “The project being…you?”

“I would be very valuable under the right circumstances.” The skeleton shrugs and casually holds out an arm for Dean to scrape at with the demon blade. “He gave me lessons in modern vernacular as a way to pass our time together.”

“Sounds like a peach,” Dean says, before he can catch himself. “If you have a peach-related pickup line in there, man, you’d better just sit on it.”

“That’s what-“

“I will smash you with a hammer,” Dean barks.

The skeleton relents, but with obvious reluctance.

 They call it quits before Kansas rolls up the sidewalk for the night and leaves them stranded with nothing but two Clif bars and a gross of septuagenarian cans of franks ’n beans. Bones shifts nervously when Dean leaves – “Which is better, pancakes or waffles?” he asks.

“Pancakes,” Dean says, with a sense of grim duty.

“Because I’d like to know what you’re making me for breakfast,” says Bones, his voice trailing off as Dean books it down the stony corridor.

  By lunch the next day (bologna sandwiches, so sue him, he’ll make something good later) they’re pretty sure that Bones doesn’t pose any known, immediate threat – other than to Dean’s sanity – so they switch gears to springing him. Maybe he will be worth something, or maybe he’ll crumble into dust and Be Free, or maybe he’ll just stop being chained to the basement wall, in which case he can become their skeleton butler or something.

There are weird runes on the ankle cuff, so Sam snaps some quick photos and heads upstairs to feel up the library. This leaves Dean in the basement with Bones, some good old-fashioned power tools, and Bones’s ex-suitor’s gross sense of humor.

“You know I can understand you just fine when you’re talking normally,” Dean says. “You’re just reciting some prehistoric shit that idiots say to girls to get a pity-laugh, hoping it leads to a pity-fuck.”

“What’s a pity-fuck?” Bones asks, all mildewy innocence. Dean’s pretty sure the grunge in his eyeball sockets is dried eyeball.

“Pretty much what it says on the tin, my guy,” Dean answers, and reaches for the acetylene torch.

 “Enochian,” Sam says, when Dean surfaces for another sandwich and possibly a beer. He’s really disappointed about the torch.

“Gesundheit?” Dean replies, around a mouthful of bologna. Like everything else here, the kitchen is pretty schwa, although the inside of the fridge required three exorcisms and half a jug of bleach.

Sam paws around the smelly old book in a way that makes Dean feel sorry for the girls Sam dated in high school. “The symbols on the cuff. I think they’re Enochian. It’s a fake celestial language made up by some sixteenth century con artists.”

Dean coughs up a bit of Wonder Bread. “I respect the hustle, but what’s it doing on an ankle cuff in a dungeon younger than Mickey Mouse?”

Sam frowns. “Well, it could be for show. But just because some nutbars made it up doesn’t mean it’s totally powerless. Maybe it does have some kind of…heavenly mojo.”

“Liwl probbem,” Dean observes, finishing off his sandwich. “Def nuh heggen.”

“Huh?”

Dean takes a swallow of beer. “I said: there’s no heaven.”

Sam shrugs. “We didn’t think there was a Purgatory, either.”

“Okay, but if we find out angels are real,” Dean snorts, “then Bones can fuck me in the ass.”

 Sam reports his findings to Bones, who sits placidly on the back of his pelvis, carpals splayed out on his kneecaps. What’s even holding him together? Dean can see what’s left of his ligaments, but they look like petrified gas station jerky.

“Do you know what they mean?” Sam asks him, pointing at the sigils.

Bones’s jaw creaks open a little, then closes again, and then he shakes his skull (something rattles inside.) Finally he makes a little frustrated noise and replies – “Baby, are you a book? Because I’d like to check you out.”

“Hey!” says Dean. “Keep it in your pants, man, I’m right here.”

Sam squints. “I think…Dean, I think he’s trying to tell us something, but the spell on him means he can’t say it directly.”

Bones clenches his fists, releases them, clenches them again.

“Yeah. Keep him talking. Let’s see how close he can get.”

Clack clack clack.

“Uh,” Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. Do I need to, like. Give you some kinda opening?” he asks Bones.

“Sweetheart, I’d like nothing better,” Bones answers, then clacks his knuckles on his brow with exasperation.

“Sorry, Christ. Hit me with your best shot, buddy. Dealer’s choice.”

Bones clears his…ghost throat? and tries: “Tell me, Dean…did it hurt?”

Dean blinks. “When I…fell from heaven?”

Sam claps his hands. “Fucking knew it. It is Enochian, and it does have something to do with this. I think he wants me to check the library for another book. Maybe there’s one misshelved or something that I can actually use to translate. Or I can Google around, maybe there’s a subreddit.”

Dean’s pretty sure Bones has never heard of a Google or a subreddit (for that matter, does Dean actually know what a subreddit is?), but it seems like there’s a glimmer of hope deep in those scum-holes.

 Sam gets translations for a few of the words – “obedience” and something he’s fifty percent sure means “millstone” – but the rest is still gobbledygook, and he hasn’t come down with another update in hours. The dungeon is pretty roomy, but it’s not like there’s a foosball table or a cable TV pickup down there, so Dean and Bones wind up lying on the cold-ass ground, staring up into the dark reaches of the ceiling together and, like. Chatting.

Occasionally Bones goes quiet and Dean glances over at him. He really could just be a totally normal, completely dead dungeon skeleton. A good power washing and the right mounting hardware and he’d be ready for a high school biology classroom.

“So if these runes are a celestial thing, does that mean you’re some kinda demonic...thing?” Dean asks. “Cause I gotta say, you’re a much less of a douche than the demons I’ve met.” He snorts. “I know you probably can’t say.”

Bones sighs (how? With what lungs?). “The last person who tried to free me was a demon.” He shifts a little, maybe surprised that he can say this out loud. “It had been so long since somebody had spoken to me…I’m afraid I came close to actually enjoying his company. But he was no better than his kind usually are.”

“Don’t suppose you caught his name? Maybe Sam or me killed him for you already.”

“He called himself—no, I can’t say it.” He makes a sound resembling a harumph.

Then his skull creaks over to look at Dean. “Does your name start with ‘C’?” he says, very deliberately.

Dean is momentarily puzzled, but he works it out by the time Bones wincingly adds “…because I’ve got a D that wants to come behind you.”

There aren’t too many demons under the “C” tab in Dean’s blood-stained mental rolodex, and when he says the name out loud, Bones makes a sound like an entire set of dominos being thrown down a spiral staircase.

  Crowley is pretty pissed, which is fun.

It’s nice that the dungeon floor already has a perfect trap on the floor; they don’t even have to hit up Ace Hardware for paint. A damp shop cloth and a little nail polish (Wet ’n Wild in “Red Red,” don’t leave home without it) brings it right up to working order.

“Why does it smell like a nail salon fucked a bloody wine cellar?” Crowley says, after he’s settled down a bit. He manifested right in the creepy torture chair (in the shackles, even! What service!) and he made some escape attempts followed by angry noises about rust stains. Now he’s recovered his dignity and has kicked back a bit, legs crossed, fingers steepled, oozing maximum levels of 2 cool 4 school.

“How do you know what a nail salon smells like?” Dean retorts.

“I get a monthly mani-pedi. There’s no shame in a little self-care, boys.” Crowley’s eyes trickle down to their feet. “Imagine what fungal horrors those work boots must conceal.” Then he squints, and looks up, finally taking in the whole room. “Could swear I’ve been here before. Little upscale for you, isn’t it? Did we splurge for a vacation rental?”

“Crowley, why don’t we roleplay Titanic?” Bones growls from the wall behind him, and Crowley’s face goes slack. “I’ll be the iceberg, and you can go down.”

Crowley swallows and slowly twists back, as far as the shackles let him. “Feathers, is that you? Well, as I live and breathe.”

“You do neither,” says Bones, with so much gravelly contempt that Dean suppresses a little shiver.

“Oh, I still breathe now and then, when the mood takes me. I’m a sentimentalist.” Crowley cranes his neck a little harder and squints into the dim. “Goodness, you’ve dropped some weight since we last spoke, haven’t you. Finally let go of all that pesky soft tissue?”

Bones tilts forward and kind of clatters onto hands and knees, then tipsily begins to rise up to standing. Dean’s a little concerned he’s gonna topple right over and they’re gonna spend the next two hours collecting him in a basket, but when he moves to help out, Bones waves him off. After a couple false starts he makes it up onto his feet bones and then shuffles out to the end of his chain, right under one of the overhead lights. He’s still a good couple feet off from Crowley, but Crowley looks like he wouldn’t mind a few extra acres.

Bones sways a little bit, just enough for Crowley to wince. “You didn’t come back.”

“I got busy.”

Sam shifts impatiently. “What is he?” he snaps, gesturing at Bones.

“Exceedingly dull,” Crowley says. “I should’ve guessed you were friends.”

Dean uncorks a fresh bottle of holy water.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Crowley amends, quickly. “And even if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do with him. It’d be like giving a laptop to a pair of howler monkeys.”

Dean puts his thumb over the mouth of the water bottle and holds it over Crowley’s head. “Try me.”

Crowley scoffs, rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he is, since he’s useless as long as he’s chained up. And I wouldn’t have left him down here if I had a single clue how to smuggle him out.  I haven’t even been in here since the Bay of Pigs; I’d worked a loophole in one of the defense spells here that let me in. When it broke down, I lost my exploit. Wasn’t worth the bother after that.”

Dean slides his thumb a millimeter north of a perfect seal, and a fat drop of water busts its ass open on Crowley’s forehead and sends up a thin line of steam. “Good thing I’ve got a limitless supply of bother,” Dean notes. “Sam, we still got those syringes in the trunk?”

Crowley snarls. “Go ahead and melt me like the cartoon shoe in Roger Rabbit, it’s not going magically make me come up with a solution.”

Bones grunts and rattles his leg chain. “Do you speak Spanish, Crowley? Because you look like the Juan for me.”

“Did I teach you that one? You absolute xylophone.” Crowley glances back at Dean. “Do your worst, Squirrel, I deserve it.”

Sam frowns. “He uses the lines to get around the spell’s speech restrictions. This is something about speaking languages…were you able translate the Enochian symbols on his cuff?”

Crowley blinks. “What symbols?”

 After a whole lot of faffing around with mirrors and terrible cellphone photography, they confirm that Crowley can’t see the symbols at all.

“More demon-proofing. Clever little buggers, those Men of Letters,” Crowley sighs. “A real shame they were peeled and eaten like bananas.”

Finally Sam just hunkers down with a pencil and pad to transcribe the entire ankle cuff, and Dean awkwardly holds up Bones’s ankle, like he’s being sized for a glass slipper. When they shove the results in Crowley’s face, Dean watches his eyes dart along the words.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, boys. Along with the usual wankery, there are instructions on how to release the cuff. I can translate it,” he finally says, with an unusually low inflection of bullshit, “but I’ll thank you to release me, first.”

Dean is flummoxed. “What, you’re not gonna haggle for a cut of the profits or anything?”

“Activating the release mechanism will free him completely, and restore his…restore him. I’d rather be at a safe distance.” He glances back at Bones, looming in the shadows. “A continent or three should do the trick.”

“If it doesn’t work–“

“I’d be more worried about what happens if it does,” Crowley sighs.  “But feel free to summon me back for tea and sympathy. Here, I’ll even give you my number. But please, no personal photography. I pity you enough as it is.”

  Crowley finally smokes out, and Dean has a beer to celebrate while Sam looks over the list of what they need and Bones clatters his fingertips like castanets. The ingredients are (as always) larded with shit that’s exotic and expensive; Sam is looking crestfallen at some of the items. “I’ve heard of all of this, but I’ve only seen maybe half of it for sale anywhere.”

“Baby, are you a yard sale? Because you’ve got some serious junk in that trunk,” Bones monotones. He’s back to lying on the floor.

At least it’s getting easier to translate this shit. “They’ve got all the ingredients here somewhere,” Dean says. Sam looks skeptical. “C’mon, Sam, no way these dudes would use a lock when they didn’t have the key.”

The ensuing scavenger hunt takes a few pints of elbow grease, but at least by the end they’re both familiar with the Bunker’s floor plan, document filing system, and inventory records. They find virtually everything in-house, though they do end up driving to the nearest farm stand for some hen’s eggs and rosemary (and heirloom tomatoes, because they look bomb).

Dean christens – or maybe exorcises – the kitchen range with some red meat, and they fuel up with burgers before taking the plunge. Dean’s still licking the ketchup off his fingers when Bones pipes up one last time. “Can I ask you something?” he says.

Dean and Sam brace for impact.

Bones sighs. “That’s not the start of a pickup line. I genuinely have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you so intent on freeing me? You could have just left me down here. I’m not a threat this way. You only have Crowley’s word that you might profit - or suffer - from my release.”

Sam gives Dean a look; it’s the look that says I sure hope you have an answer, because I think this entire thing has been dumb as shit and half as necessary. It’s a look Sam uses pretty regularly.

“Uh. It’s the right thing to do? As far as I can tell, you haven’t hurt anybody or done anything else to deserve being down here. We went through all those records upstairs, and there’s no note that says ‘by the way, that skeleton downstairs eats babies for breakfast.’ This place is cool, but the dudes who built it were obviously shady as fuck.”

“I see.” Bones sounds a little disappointed.

Sam fake-coughs into his hand, and Dean sets down his paper napkin. “Also, you seem cool. Like, you’re easy to hang out with. Other than the stinky one-liners, and we’re gonna wean you off of those.”

Bones straightens himself out a little. “Thank you, Dean. You know, on a scale of one to ten, I’d rate you a nine.”

“Okay, okay. Why not a ten?”

Bones sets his chin on his knuckle bones with a tidy little clack. “Because I’m the one you’re missing.”

Dean groans, but he thinks the guy might be smiling, somewhere behind that skeletal grin.

 By hour two, Sam’s pretty tuckered out from pulverizing a billion and three mummified dove livers while reciting nonsense syllables, and Dean’s right arm is about to fall off from holding up this giant silver swizzle stick that’s either a really weird short sword or a decorative javelin, but Bones has never looked perkier. He’s lying on a nice white bedsheet and looking fresh as a recently exhumed daisy.

“Okay,” Sam rasps. “Light the candle and we should be good to go. Any last words, Bones?”

“Are either of you religious?” He crosses his arm bones over each other.

“Fuck no,” Dean answers, before Sam gets a chance to launch into it.

Bones shakes his skull fondly. “You should reconsider. Because you’re the answer to my prayers.”

Dean makes a gagging noise and lights the candle.

 What happens next (well, after the cuff pops open) is some of the freakiest shit that Dean has ever seen, and his Freaky CV is pretty fucking impressive, thanks. Bones tells them to avert their eyes, “just in case”, but he takes a peek between his fingers anyway, because he’s an idiot.

For a second Bones is just lying there, and Dean has a second of real disappointment that maybe he’s Moved On Past The Veil or something, but then he starts…foaming. It starts out kind of uniform and colorless, but then it really picks up speed and volume and starts to separate into swaths of distinct and horrible colors and textures. He closes his eyes again for a second to give his stomach a chance to reboot, and when he looks again the foam is gone, and instead there’s a whole lot of angry jelly trying to form into organs.

Just as the jelly is really getting its shit together and looking more like lungs and intestines and stuff, the heart-jelly pulses once and sends out a fistful of big squishy vines…veins? and a fat white worm of nerve scrambles down the spinal column and starts putting out franchises. This is followed by some disturbingly tasty-looking red sheets of muscle that swiftly sheathe over all the whole scene, and then the muscles start sweating out fat and cartilage and this is the point where Dean decides that looking away is actually definitely one hundred percent for the best. Even then, the sounds are tough to handle.

Kinda wild: he’s seen people taken apart, but watching one get put back together is somehow gnarlier. Well, if this guy is even a person. It’s a human skeleton, sure, but god knows even Mickey Rourke has one under there.

Finally everything seems to have quieted down.

“How you doin’ over there, Bones?” Dean asks, and dares to take a peek.

Bones is crouched down in front of them, fists balled up in the bedsheets (it’s a relief that the bedsheets didn’t get accidentally sucked into the muscle layer or something, like one of those surgeons who leaves a sponge behind). Dean sees white guy skin and some dark messy hair and gets the gist of a decent build.

The face slowly cranes upwards, and Dean is really truly ready for anything here; tusks, fangs, Klingon forehead ridges, gingivitis. Instead he gets a faceful of hot math teacher. Bones’s eyes are still closed, but he’s frowning like he’s mentally reviewing his strategy to explain the quadratic equation to a roomful of horny teens.

He slowly rises to standing (yikes! Naked! Dean is a Moderately Bad Man, so he glances, but just long enough to register “nice), uncurling slowly and carefully.

Then he’s all the way up. Bones squares his shoulders and straightens the last kink in his spine, and the frown resolves. Dean’s about to say something, when his eyes snap open, and this cold white light absolutely blasts out of them, and fuck, Crowley wasn’t kidding: this guy is definitely A Thing. The whole room flattens and distorts in the light. Shadows race up the walls like they’re looking for a way out, then snap together into the shape of enormous ragged wings, stretching thirty feet higher than the actual ceiling clearance.

Then the light dies down; the wings fade into regular-grade shadows. Instead of a terrifying unearthly avatar of Oh Shit, Dean’s looking at a buck naked thirty-something math teacher. Who happens to be an unearthly avatar of Oh Shit. And has nice eyes.

“My name is Castiel, angel of the Lord, Seraph of the First Shield,” the avatar says, in a piss-shakingly resonant version of Bones’s voice.

Then: “Do you speak English, Dean?”

“Yes?” Dean fumbles.

“So do I,” says Castiel, and smiles.

Then he makes finger-guns.

  Castiel sticks around for a grand total of five minutes before he’s suddenly gone again, because angels are (a) real and they can (b) teleport? at (c) any moment because (d) fuck you, then he reappears six hours later (clothed) standing over Dean’s bed, having apparently forgotten that humans like to sleep; this time Dean does shoot him, but luckily he doesn’t seem to take it personally.   

“I located Crowley,” Bo- Castiel says. The silver sword-javelin thing is sitting on the kitchen counter in front of him; apparently it’s an Angel Blade and it lives in Castiel’s coat sleeve and can vaporize demons. It doesn’t look like it has any Crowley on it, but maybe it’s self-cleaning.

“Did you kill him?” Dean asks, now that he’s semi-coherent and wrapped around a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Not this time,” Cas answers. “He did help, after all.”

“Sure,” says Dean.

“You don’t need to let me fuck you in the ass, either,” Castiel says, and Dean honks some coffee up the back of his nose.

“Oh,” he gasps. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. Didn’t realize you could hear that convo all the way down there.”

“Angels have excellent hearing. Mine wasn’t impacted by the spell.”

Dean can think of at least three very private moments Castiel almost definitely could hear every instant of, and longs for death. Or maybe not, since apparently this guy lives in Heaven and could hear him there, too. “Great. Good to know. Noted.”

“But…” Castiel looks wistful.

“What?” Dean nudges him. Dean Winchester: angel nudger.

Castiel frowns. “If I said…” he stops himself. “This is…what I want to say is very irregular, at least between angels and humans.”

“Jesus christ on a goddamn pogo stick, man. It’s three in the morning, some of us have a circadian rhythm and a limited lifespan. Say whatever it is you gotta say.”

Castiel looks up and drowns Dean in his swimming pool eyes, which Dean has learned belong to a radio ad salesman in Illinois, who Castiel possessed a few years back before jumping several decades into the past to run some errands and getting rope-a-doped by the Men of Letters and then warehoused in their basement; after they all spontaneously bought the farm, he just slowly ran out of the power reserves needed to keep his vessel from turning to mush and hey presto, talking skeleton.

Classic story, really.

“If I said you had a beautiful body, Dean,” Castiel says, solemnly, “Would you hold it against m-“

Dean doesn’t let him finish. {AO3 version}

[thetriggeredhappy]

Could i request an ace sniper fic? I really like that headcannon, and i dont think i've seen much fic about it

absolutely and hell yeah, anon. aspec sniper is best sniper. went with ace/aro specifically for this one but every iteration of aspec is fair and valid. also the demo-sniper-scout friendship because i love the idea of them hanging out

(no warnings)

-

Lunch break, Hightower. Scout and Demo were the only two who ever consistently visited Sniper in Hightower on account of being the only ones who would ever bother going all the way to wherever he’d posted up for the day, and they were aware of that fact, and so had started a habit of eating lunch up there with him whenever they could. It was a good system. Especially because going to that trouble had the added bonus of privacy, being able to talk about things they didn’t feel like talking about in front of the other mercs. Not that Sniper was particularly talkative—he preferred to listen.

Things they were embarrassed about were a topic, sometimes.

“—and so I’m beatin’ myself up over it, right? Like, yeah I’m barely scrapin’ by on my second senior year and workin’ one job for real and another one under the table and I’ve got sports the rest of the time so of course I can’t pay much attention to her, so figured she’d get annoyed, but I still felt bad right? But then, turns out, buddy from my track team sees her like four days after we break up holdin’ hands with some other guy!” Scout rambled from his place vaguely lounged back against Demo’s arm as both Sniper and Demo ate their respective lunches from their respectively marked tupperwares. None of them remembered who started it, but they tended to sit almost shoulder-to-shoulder, and it had escalated into leaning against each other and a wall and looking out over the field as they talked. “So, like, man, wantin’ to focus on her college stuff and too busy for dating, yeah right.”

“What you get, dating a lass who’s younger than you, lad,” Demo hummed around his mouthful.

“Yeah, yeah. Only a year difference, but man, felt it all at once, huh? Anyways. She got told off by a buddy of mine about it, and we had an argument at some point, but... yeah. That’s the messiest breakup I ever had, probably, just because everyone knew everyone,” Scout trailed off. Silence for a second. “What about you guys?”

“Told you mine,” Demo said, had to pause to finish his mouthful to get the rest out. “Chemistry class, dated three times, she cheated twice.”

“Oh yeah. Jesus, yeah, fuck,” Scout sighed, remembering. “Why’d you put up with that a second time?”

“She was cute,” Demo shrugged, almost dislodging Scout and jostling Sniper a little on accident. “Ah, sorry Mickey.”

“Y’alright,” Sniper assured under his breath.

“Any messy breakup stories for us?” Demo prompted.

Scout tilted his head a little back towards Sniper. “Hey, yeah. I feel like I ramble about relationship stuff like, constantly—“

“You ramble about everything constantly,” Demo teased.

“Eh, fuck you,” Scout said offhandedly, rolling his eyes. “But I talk about that stuff constantly, and Demo brings up stuff sometimes, but you’ve, like, never told us any stories.”

“Not much to tell,” Sniper shrugged simply. “Not my thing. End of story, really.”

“Not your thing?” Scout repeated, audibly confused, sitting up a little bit to look back at Sniper. “What’s that mean?”

“Never much liked dating, relationships, any of that,” Sniper replied without needing to think too deeply about it. “Didn’t care much, that’s all.”

“Thought that was me as well for a while,” Demo said carefully. “Realized I just didn’t have time for it, mostly, between the job and friends and that, so I’d rather wait until I do. Same with you?”

“Nah. Had the time, had the energy, just didn’t like it. Not my speed. Made me uncomfortable, mostly,” Sniper murmured, itching idly under his hat. “Went out with a few sheilas from around, they’d either properly like me or not, and... I just never liked them much. Mostly went because I didn’t know what else to do. Thought I was turning down too many chances, something like that. But then I figured out, nah. Just skip the whole thing.”

“Wait, for like, dating? Or for one-night stands?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Both. Or, er, neither. Wanted nothing to do with either.” Sniper pulled his hat back on straight. “Figured for a minute in my, er... must’ve been mid-twenties? Figured maybe my problem was just that I was into blokes instead, but nah. Just as bad. Just as... nothing, really. So I stopped bothering with forcing it.”

“Good on you,” Demo said appraisingly, jostling him cheerfully, and the corner of Sniper’s mouth quirked up a little.

“Nothing, huh?” Scout repeated, musing aloud. “What, so... like, how people will go on a first date and just never try and call each other again? Just, no sparks? But for everyone?”

“Presumably. Don’t have a frame of reference for what those sparks are like,” he said, then sat up a little a moment later. “No, wait, I know I’ve felt, er... felt something similar. Not sparks, the, er, the nervousness. Then I realized that wasn’t a romance sort of thing, it was me being, er... jealous, and intimidated, and just thinking they were good-looking objectively. Happened with a few blokes, s’why I thought I’d try men for a while. Didn’t last, not past properly meeting them. That’s all, really.”

A nod of understanding from Demo, a general sort of ‘huh’ noise from Scout. A pause. “Would you ever do the, er... marriage of convenience, then? No risk of it getting messy,” Demo joked.

“Nah,” Sniper said, laughing a little. “Nah. Thought about maybe trying it for citizenship at some point, but only on paper. I don’t tend to stay places too long. S’why I like this job.”

“Man, I’m kinda jealous,” Scout huffed. “It’d kick ass to not have to deal with crushes and shit.”

“Eh. Sometimes I’m curious, what it must feel like,” Sniper admitted. “Wouldn’t change it, it’s just... interesting to imagine. I like romance novels.”

“Really?” both Demo and Scout asked, sitting up and looking at him, and he huffed a laugh.

“Can’t be that hard to believe. Liked Jane Austen later on in school, kept reading more. They’re... I liked fantasy when I was young, it feels like that. Adjacent. And I know what love is, I’ve got parents I love, had pets, had relatives who were essentially siblings, it’s just something different from the sort I know about. S’pose it’s, er... just strange sometimes, nice to laugh at the characters for being so ridiculous about things.”

“Don’t tell me you pick up novels from the dimestore, Mickey,” Demo said disapprovingly. “Or those dry historical ones. Tell me it’s all good, not just the same few stories recycled.”

“Only if I’m particularly bored,” Sniper admitted, and Demo made a sound of vague disgust. “And I don’t read much, besides. Have other hobbies.”

“Is it the same thing with why you don’t talk to the rest of us guys much?” Scout cut in, speaking for the first time in a bit. “Just don’t feel it? Not a thing on your radar?”

“Nah. That’s because I’m just not the talkative type. I like you lot plenty, it’s why I go sulk in the base with you all quietly, if I didn’t like you then you’d never see me,” Sniper replied. “If anything, I think it means I appreciate you all more. Less worrying about balancing things, all that.”

“That’s fair,” Scout said, settling back down, nodding vaguely. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

A pause between the three of them. “So I don’t have any particularly interesting breakup stories,” he added. “But I’ve got farm stories, if you’d like.”

“Obviously!” Demo laughed at the same time that Scout chimed an emphatic “Fuck yeah!”, and Sniper rolled into a story about how particularly dumb sheep are as farm animals, and that was the end of that discussion.

[everybodyscupoftea]

just the plug?

college jj x reader

someone requested part 2 of the plug, which i honestly hadn’t considered. it took me a while to get this up because i wanted to do it justice, but here it is. wanted to get undertones of what can go wrong when ~love languages~ don’t match :)

warnings: per usual cursing, lil bit of angst

You thought, after your talk at the coffee shop, that the two of you were on the same page, but JJ’s actions left you feeling a little uncertain. It was almost like he was content to just not talk about it anymore, and you were left wondering if you had misread the whole situation after all.

The two of you still hung out all the time, keeping all your plans and previous routines. JJ started paying for the food more, and he always cleaned up the kitchen when the two of you finished, but he never brought up the relationship status.

You’d seen his past relationships, how he’d slept around in his younger years, and you didn’t want to judge based on that, he was older, but what else where you supposed to base his actions off of. Kie tried to repeatedly reassure you that JJ really liked you, but how were you supposed to know for sure if he never said anything.

One afternoon, you were studying in the coffee shop before your night shift. Grad level accounting was kicking your ass, and the closing shift always left you way too drained to give it the level of focus it required. You sipped at the latte your coworker made for you and highlighted a particularly important formula in the textbook.

Your phone lit up next to you, and you glanced over to see a text from JJ just as the screen went dark again. He’d texted asking if you’d had any lunch yet. Which, thinking back, no. Before you could respond he sent another text guessing no and promised to bring you some food.

A few minutes later, he pushed the door open, holding a bag of takeout from your favorite bagel shop down the street. Plopping down across from you, he smiled, taking his hat off to mess with his hair a few seconds before putting it back on.

“My hero,” you told him, reaching for the bag.

JJ laughed, “Yeah, well, can’t let you waste away, you’re too important.”

You smiled, “Important, huh?”

“Couldn’t survive without my plug for a few more months at least.”

And that brought you right back down to earth. You took a bite of the bagel and responded, a bit bitterly, “Right, my sole purpose in your life.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, leaning back in the chair.

That’s why you were confused. He did so many nice things for you, but it was like the dynamic never changed. You’d never held hands past that first night, hell the closest you’d been to him was an occasional hug because, ‘I’m not much of a hugger, bro’.

You decided to just spare your feelings and change the subject, “You got any big plans tonight?”

“Picked up Ethan’s shift, so we’re closing together.”

Perking up, you eagerly asked, “Movie night after?”

He sighed, picking at the wrapper his bagel had been in, “I wish, but I gotta meet with my bio partner tonight for our project. I normally wouldn’t have picked up the shift but I saw no one else had volunteered and I know how much stress you’re under, so I didn’t want you to have to close alone.”

“Oh, um, honestly it’s fine. You can go meet her; I know how extensive the project is. I’m pretty much done with my work anyway and it won’t be my first rodeo closing alone.”

JJ sat up straighter, “You sure?”

With a shaky smile and a nod, you responded, “Yeah, totally. I’ll text you later?”

“For sure, thanks, bud,” JJ stood and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before walking out of the shop, already texting his partner. You pressed your hand against your chest as a cold feeling overtook and squeezed.

The next night was your actual closing shift with JJ and he was late. You were tapping your foot in annoyance as he came running in, 30 minutes past the shift start, hastily tying his apron.

He bent over a little to catch his breath, “Fuck, my bad. Totally lost track of time.”

“All good,” you told him, not liking that it had become your go-to response for him as of late.

JJ looked around, “Looks like we aren’t too busy though, that’s good.”

“Well, we aren’t now, but I had a rush for about 10 minutes earlier.”

He did at least look like he felt bad, “Sorry, finishing touches on the project.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said, tiredly.

“Would you feel better if I handled most of the closing duties and you could leave 30 minutes early?”

“Believe it or not, J, I enjoy our closing shifts together, so no, it will not. We’re still on for tonight, right?”

He looked a little hurt and confused, “Yeah, I, uh, did I do something wrong?”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a few seconds, “No, everything’s fine.”

“Right, you keep saying that, but I feel like that’s a lie.”

With a shrug, you responded, “Feel whatever you want, but I’m telling you it’s all good.”

The shift was a little awkward and tense afterward. He kept asking if you were okay and your answers were getting shorter and shorter until you finally snapped, “Fuck’s sake, Maybank, can’t you just take my word for it.”

He held his hands up, looking hurt, “I’m gonna go start dishes.”

You sighed again, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. How did the two of you get there? Lack of communication maybe. You’d had two tests that week and you were exhausted. JJ was supposed to be a safe place for you to feel accepted and to feel relief, but lately it felt like he wasn’t as close. It was as if you could feel him slipping through your fingertips the closer it got to his 21st birthday.

By the end of the shift you just wanted to curl up in bed and not think about it anymore. You debated canceling to just sleep, but less time with JJ was actually the opposite of what you wanted. True to his word, he’d done most of the duties. He grabbed your hand on your way out, swinging them between you, reminding you eerily of the first time. This time though, it hurt.

JJ didn’t stop at the po-boy place, and he didn’t stop at the pizza place you sometimes switched it up with. He whistled softly and the two of you walked all the way to your apartment without getting any food at all. You unlocked your door, assuming he just wanted to order something, and got a huge whiff of something.

You turned to look at him and he was smiling widely, “I know you just took your last accounting test before finals, so I wanted to do something nice for you.”

JJ led you to the kitchen, and there he had a crockpot of what looked like roast cooking. You were honestly touched and with a smile, asked, “So was this your project finishing touches?”

“Yep.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I think you’re doing great, and I know this semester has been hard. I wanted to do something nice.”

When he hugged you, you melted into his embrace, not realizing how much you just wanted a fucking hug. Honestly, him initiating it without prompting was enough for you to look past the lack of conversation as of late.

JJ told you to go take your shoes off and get comfy, that he’d fix up plates for the two of you, so you did. Changing out of your jeans into sweats felt great, and when you got back, JJ had set the table and put both of your plates on it.

The two of you sat down and he joked, “Sorry there’s no wine, still not 21 and I couldn’t ask my plug, that would ruin the surprise.”

“Please, don’t ruin the moment with plug jokes.”

He looked confused, “Wait, I thought you liked plug jokes.”

“Plug jokes were funny until they started making me feel like that’s all I am to you.”

“All you are to me? I thought…I thought we were together?”

You couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh, “Since when? When did we have that conversation?”

“It was implied, right? Like when we started hanging out more and I started paying, that’s boyfriend shit.”

You weren’t even sure where to start with that. JJ was looking at you expectantly, “Sir, I need verbal confirmation. Not just this implied, unstated stuff. How the fuck was I supposed to know that was your intent until you tell me.”

He paused for a minute, “I suppose that’s true.”

You waited for him to continue, and he just took a bite of rice and gravy. When he glanced up at you, you gave him a look, “So, are we still not gonna have the conversation?”

“Was that not it?”

“Oh my fuck, JJ.”

He laughed, “Okay, to get this straight, I thought I was your boyfriend, but you didn’t know that. Now you’re upset, even though I’ve been wining and dining you the whole time.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“So are we on the same page, that I’ve been trying to communicate through my actions?”

You nodded reluctantly, “Yes, that’s clear now, but I still need words.”

“And I can do that, babe.”

The cold that had taken root in your chest these last few weeks suddenly warmed and you smiled, “Thank you, now was that so hard?”

JJ laughed, “I guess not. I was just, scared, I guess. I didn’t want to put a label on it too fast and put you off. Plus, you weren’t talking about it either.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I just felt like you only saw me as your plug, you kept making those stupid jokes. And you never really touched me.”

“I was trying to give you personal space! I know you aren’t the touchiest person.”

“That’s never been a problem with you,” you admitted to him with a small smile.

He looked pleased and immediately stood, pulling you into a tight hug, “I’ll try to be better.”

“So will I,” you told him, punctuating it with a kiss.

[pinkjeanist]

“just take care of yourself.” || fatgum

     ⇥     After his doctor tells Taishiro to slow his eating for his health, you start to sit with him while he eats. Talking becomes a good way to distract him, but it soon becomes his path to healing- and surprisingly, it does for you, too. [1.5k words]

a/n: this one has a lot of feelings. i just really love him. i also think it’s wild how this is the second fic i’ve written today. wack. this is another fic to add to the lofi collection, which i havent done much for recently, so it’s nice to get back to that!! [navigation] [just take care of yourself]

A lot of people didn’t realize just how much Taishiro had to eat to get all of his fat back after using it in a fight. Of course, he gained weight much faster than most, but one must also take into account that he’s eight-foot-two, and has to gain at least twice his minimum body weight if he wants to ensure that he has enough fat for his jobs to go well each and every time. But despite eating being one of the main components to his quirk, there always came a point where he just couldn’t eat more than he already had. His stomach was hyper-functioning, but not limitless. 

You knew this, and you knew Taishiro did as well, but he’d always been a go-beyond-plus-ultra kind of guy, and put the public’s need for his quirk and heroship over his own well-being. This resulted in a lot of long nights with him bending over the toilet to throw up what he couldn’t keep down, and you giving him belly massages when it started acting up. But eventually, it got to the point where even his own doctor told him he needed to slow down, and take more time to eat instead of rushing back to duty. 

This was very hard for him. You knew you wouldn’t be able to ever completely understand why, but you were there for him nonetheless. Long nights turned into sleepless ones for him over his growing anxiety. The stomach pains came and went a little less than they had, but the dark clouds kept looming over him all the same.

At first, you weren’t sure if you should try to help him. Despite his outgoing and friendly nature, he was a rather independent person, and it just didn’t feel like your place to try to get him on the right track. So you started to spend more time with him while he ate, just to keep him company and make sure he was okay, instead of trying to do anything too direct.

Most of what Taishiro ate was fast food, since it was easy to gain fat with it and even faster to get his hands on. You couldn’t eat much of it, but he could eat it for hours if he went slow enough, so you ate a couple fries every now and again and spent the rest of your time at the table getting him to talk as to slow down his intake. It was sometimes hard to think of things to talk about, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working like a charm. 

At first, it was mostly like the afterwork small-talk you usually made: “How was your day? Anything exciting? Whose asses did you kick? Is Amajiki doing okay? What do you mean Kirishima got his hand stuck in the printer?” And he was content talking about it. But after a few days, all of his answers were the same, seeing as not much had been changing. So you had to get creative.

“What’s your opinion on pineapple on pizza?” 

“Absolutely delectable. Food of the Gods. Next question.” You chuckled to yourself and bit into one of the many sandwiches stacked on the table. 

“What about pickles? I’ve never seen you eat those.” 

“If you saw me eating pickles, that would be an evil clone of me. Pickles are detestable to mankind.” You laughed this time, and he smiled warmly at you before taking another bite of his sandwich. You silently pushed his drink towards him to remind him to wash it down after. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about a food you didn’t like except coconut.” You set your sandwich back down in the box and took a drink. 

“Well, most stuff goes down easy, but I can’t stand coconut for the life of me. Pickles are even worse.” 

“What else don’t you like, then?” 

You spent the rest of that night talking about food until it made you feel more full than you were. For the first time in a while, he didn’t ask you to massage his belly and back, and you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night to find him in the bathroom. But what made you happy the most, was that he seemed happier, too. 

But after a while, you were finding deeper conversations making their way to the table (no pun intended) more often. One minute you’d be discussing things that should be recyclable, and the next you were talking about how useless you felt seeing all of those terrible landfills and the rising emissions and not being able to do much more about it than putting bottles and plastic in the right bin. And, on some of the nights that veered in that direction, you both started talking about things you didn’t have the time or guts to have said before. 

“I think my quirk is gonna kill me one day, darlin’.” You paused in your eating, but his eyes remained downcast at his food. “This kind of eatin’ isn’t good for a regular person, and even with, uhm- how I am,” Taishiro loosely gestured to his body. “I don’t think it can take this much. Not in the long run, anyway.” 

You’d considered it a few times before, but nothing had ever happened to cause real concern. The doctors never said anything. You were starting to realize that maybe they didn’t have to. Maybe it was something you should have seen before, something you should have realized a long time ago. Hearing him say it made your heart sink. 

“I don’t like hearing you talk like that, honey. I don’t-” You gave a frustrated sigh, setting your food down and resting your arms on the table. “-I don’t like to think about...about not having you here.” 

“I’m a hero, darlin’. I’m surprised you don’t think about it every day.” He was slow when he took a bite of his sandwich. He seemed distant, now. 

“Do you?” He turned to you, stilling again. You swallowed. “Do you think about dying? Every day?” 

He set his food down again. You could tell he probably wasn’t going to pick it back up for the night. “I think about what would happen if I left you all alone. What would happen to you if I were gone. Not so much thinkin’ about dyin’ as I do about you.” 

You could feel your eyes grow wet. You could see emotion welling in his own, too. You didn’t think you’d cry that night when you sat down for dinner, but anything could always happen, you guessed. 

The two of you started talking more about the future after that night. Death seemed a little too real, a little too close for comfort, so you talked like you could outlive it. You hadn’t considered marriage much before he brought up how much trouble he’d have to go through to find a dealer who could make a ring in his size. You hadn’t considered having children until he started talking about how cute all the babies and kids were on his patrol, and how good you’d look with one in your arms. 

So you told him all the places you wanted to go one day, and where you might want to have a wedding. You discussed all the baby names you’d thought of, and which ones would fit a baby of what you thought your offspring would look like. You would want a girl named Honoka, Taishiro would want a girl named Sumiko. You both thought Mamoru was a good boy name, though. 

You could see the progression of Taishiro’s health every time he gained weight, and you could also see the light grow brighter in his smiles. You could swim in his happiness when he laughed. You could feel his love for you in your bones every time he kissed you, or touched you, or when he whispered little nothings to you in the dark. He was becoming whole again, if you had ever known a time when he was completely there in the first place, and you could feel yourself growing with him. 

His soft touches on the small of your back and on your cheeks made you feel more grounded. When you asked about his day, he responded in earnest, and you clung to every word. He pulled you back to Earth when you hadn’t even realized you were drifting away. 

You hadn’t realized how unreal everything felt until you thought of what lay ahead, both for you and Taishiro. It was like you were close to graduating again, having to consider what you wanted with your life and where you’d go from there. You’d always thought getting married. You’d always thought about having kids. But you had never considered it- not genuinely, not when it was an option available to you. You could feel a change bubbling beneath your surface. 

But you could see him changing, too. Even when you weren’t there to eat with him, you could tell he took his time with it. You could see him start to care about his own thoughts and needs as much as he cared about your’s. He started to feel whole to you, no matter whether he had fat on his bones or not, and you could tell he was starting to feel it, too. 

-

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[fluffyferalkacchan]

Kacchan & Deku: Win to Save and Save to Win - A circular path of parallels (part 1)

Okay so it had probably already been talked to death by now, but i'd like to write a detailed list of how Midoriya and Bakugou's respective paths are and had always been paralleled since the beginning. And it's not just with the whole "save to win and win to save" thing, which is the most obvious textual part of it, but there are a lot of more subtle hints along the way too. I mean in nearly every single arcs, for each of Midoriya development, Bakugou had one too (albeit in a completely opposite direction).

This post is also partly in response to some anime-only fans who complained about Bakugou's development in the Joint Training Arc coming from the left field... Which actually isn't? Like Kirishima said it had never been as obvious before but there were definite hints about it and I'll try to show them as thoroughly as possible in this post.

Warning ! This post will be quite long and will contain Manga Spoilers up to chapter 317 in part 3!

¤ From the Pre-UA era To Deku vs Kacchan: their starting lines

(more under the cut)

When I said that the parallel started early, I really meant early. In fact, it started as early as the very first panel they were in.

I think it is very telling that the first time we saw them, Midoriya is trying to defend another kid, while Bakugou is seen using his quirk (and actually introducing the reader/viewer to the whole concept of quirk in the first place). It tells us right here, right then on the very first second, that Midoriya Izuku is physically weak but a savior at heart and Bakugou Katsuki has a strong quirk but is a bully asserting his dominance.

This of course led to diametrical beliefs on what a hero is and should be and we've got those two very iconic moments to illustrate:

And of course it reflected into their behaviors, even as kids.

What I find really interesting in the way those flashbacks were presented is that Midoriya's saving moment was told through Bakugou's POV, while Bakugou's winning side was seen through Midoriya's eyes.

Those moments were deemed important because they deeply impacted the witnessing party and not actually the "wining/saving" one.

(I think someone commented once that while the river scene was highly pivotal for Bakugou, Midoriya probably doesn't even remember it. And likewise Bakugou probably doesn't remember fighting and winning against some random older kids, but Midoriya definitively does. And I totally agree!)

At those moment both Bakugou and Midoriya saw in the other something that they were clearly lacking and their reactions to this realization were wildly different as well.

"He doesn't take himself into account, you know. Something doesn't feel right. It makes me wanna keep him at arm's length. Back then, I ignored my own weakness, so I ended up bullying him" - Bakugou Katsuki

"You who had so many things I didn't have... To me, you were an amazing person much closer than All Might! That's why I keep chasing after you!!" - Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya saw this amazing kid kicking ass with his strong quirks and his first reaction was admiration and wanting to get as close as possible to this person, because he was all too aware of his own weakness and shortcoming.

Bakugou saw this selfless kid trying to help him and displaying qualities that he didn't have and his first reaction was to lash out and push that kid as far away as possible because he didn't want to recognize his own weaknesses and shortcomings.

Which, you know, probably describes their entire childhood dynamics haha...

... and then the sludge villain happened.

And it brought with it the iconic "My legs moved on their own" and "Your eyes were begging for help" moments which we all know about of course, but this scene also had another more immediate parallel that I'd like to talk about.

Bakugou tried to fight the sludge villain on his own but ultimately failed to win.

Midoriya tried to rescue Bakugou on his own from the sludge villain but ultimately failed to save him.

The sludge villain was a reality check for both of them, in a "Nope kiddos, you might aspire to be heroes, but you still have a very long way to go. Here let's insert an All Might to show you just how far away your goal is," kind of way?

Anyway fast-forward 10 months of intense training to prepare for the UA entrance exam.... and really do I even have to mention this?

I mean the only way it could have been even more textually obvious is if Midoriya had been ranked sixth instead of seventh so that his name would be right next to Bakugou's... like there's even this panel explicitly pointing everything out.

So yeah... nothing to add there, *shrugs*

After that came the Quirk Assessment Test:

I'm going to come back to this later on in a more detailed way, but regarding their personal development; Midoriya's development is external while Bakugou's is internal. And I don't quite consider the quirk assessment test as "progress" for any of them yet because both of them sort of completely miss the point.

Aizawa told Midoriya "How can you save anyone if you can't move after one hit?" which had the underlying message of "It's not okay to hurt yourself"... But Midoriya totally went like, "Okay then I'll just hurt myself in a way in which I can still move afterward!" So yeah he is just sidestepping the problem here, but well there probably wasn't anything else he could do here.

As for Bakugou, he had always feel threatened by Midoriya's presence, but not in a fighting skills context. They are not really competing on the same field and it had never occurred to Bakugou that Midoriya could really beat him in a one-to-one fight.

As hilarious as the thought of Bakugou truly believing that somehow Deku had managed to take head on building-high robots quirkless is, I think what really happened is... Bakugou saw his own 0 rescue points and thought "Oh... so that's how Deku got in. Damn nerd probably went and save shitty extras left and right!". Which is a more realistic feat to manage quirkless. Anyway my point is, Bakugou realizing Midoriya isn't quirkless should have been a "Shit! He's leveling the field and standing on my playground now!" moment...

But no, what overpowered him here is the thought that the whole time Midoriya had been hiding his quirk from him and went like "What? Am I not good enough for you to use your quirk on me?! STOP LOOKING DOWN ON ME!!! EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, SHITTY DEKU!!"

So yeah... kind of missing the point too.

Which is why the quirk assessment test wasn't really their starting point but more like them trying to look for it but missing it?

Speaking of starting lines... Let's move on to the Deku vs. Kacchan first round.

B"From watching the match, it appears Bakugou acted n to surpass Bakugou, All Might pointed that those were the first passionate emotions Midoriya had shown other than "I want to be a hero!". This was the very first moment where Midoriya's desire to win was stronger than his desire to save.

As for Bakugou, this was the moment where he truly he realized that Deku is a threat and not just through his natural heroic/saving disposition like before but on the battlefield which used to be 100% Bakugou's area of expertise. And if even with his non-existent control of quirk Deku had managed to win to such extent, what would happen when Deku managed to truly master his own quirk? Total defeat?! Bakugou is self-aware enough to realize that while his own fighting skills and quirk mastery could still progress, they were already near the top with a not wide enough margin for improvement.

This was the moment where Bakugou realized where he truly stood compared to everyone else around him and that if he wanted to reach the very top again, then only relying on his fighting skills and his quirk control would never be enough. This is what prompted out his feelings of "I have to change or I'll be left in the dust".

And since Deku went and encroached on Bakugou's playground and beat him in the process, there's no way in hell Mr Complete and Irrefutable Win over there wouldn't aim to do exactly the same at some point.

Anyway the two gifs above showed us their motivation to reach their respective Win/Save side of the spectrum, but they both have big issues they need to work on in order to do so.

"From watching the match, it appears Bakugou-san acted on his own because of an obviously personal grudge. As as All Might-sensei said previously, it is foolish to launch a large-scale attack indoors.

In the same way, taking into consideration the damage he received, Midoriya-san's plan was also rash." - Yaoyorozu Momo

Yaoyorozu's analysis was super spot on and hit straight where their weaknesses lie: Bakugou needs to stop acting on his own and learn to cooperate with/trust his teammates and Midoriya needs to stop hurting himself/self-sacrifice and learn to properly control his quirk.

Both of them also have these super heavy shackles that keep pulling them down and impeding their progress at every turn:

Bakugou's complex feelings and emotionally explosive baggage towards Midoriya that makes him go feral and irrational at the drop of a hat and clearly prevents him from properly considering Midoriya as the rival that would keep pulling him up

Midoriya's total and utter idolization of All Might that gives him a tendency to imitate his idol and clearly prevents him from properly realizing and unlocking the potential of his own quirk

And at that point, they clearly don't realize how cumbersome those shackles could be if left unaddressed too long.

Anyway... this episode/chapter was called "Bakugou Katsuki: Starting line", but I think it can be considered both their starting lines, because this is when they were made aware of what they are lacking and showed their resolve to change.

Midoriya's progress and development is intrinsically linked to his quirk mastery and fighting style, which are inherently physical skills (which is where Bakugou's excels in). It stands to reason then that his progress would therefore be very flashy, hard to miss, and highly praised due to the external aspect of his development.

On the other hand Bakugou's progress and development hinges on him properly getting in touch with his emotions and connecting to other people in healthy way, which are inherently inner-strength qualities (which Midoriya has no shortage of) . It stands to reason then that his progress would therefore be very subtle, mostly unnoticed, and hardly taken into account due to the internal aspect of his development. (Like it'd probably only takes him having a full meltdown or throwing himself in front of someone else for other people to notice how far he had gone!)