#kimiko miyashiro imagines

[ichorai]

live like animals ; kimiko miyashiro.

track five of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; kimiko miyashiro x gn!reader, frenchie x gn!reader

synopsis ; you and frenchie try to show kimiko how to have fun on a day off.

words ; 1.0k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; mentions of fire/bombs, frenchie and reader get in a heated debate on stacking cards in uno, basically just domestic fluff

main masterlist.

“This is Monopoly,” you told Kimiko, gesturing out to the board game in front of you. You handed her a couple wads of money. “That’s yours. You can use it to buy land and houses. See, if you land on these particular squares, you have to draw a card and do what the card tells you.”

Appearing puzzled, Kimiko moved her game piece to the question mark and picked up a card without rolling. Frenchie winced, placing down his own fake Monopoly money.

“Eh, perhaps we can play something else—something that involves a bit less explaining, maybe?”

Relenting, you moved on to the next game, pulling out a deck of cards—Uno.

“Okay, okay, for this game, you just gotta put down cards that have the same color as each other, or it could be the same number,” you explained patiently, smiling at Kimiko as you handed her a few colorful cards to start out with. Forgetting to explain to keep your cards close to your chest, Kimiko splayed out her cards with a smile, pointing out that all of hers were blue, save for a single red one.

“Ah, mon coeur, don’t show us!” exclaimed Frenchie, dramatically flying his forearm up to cover his eyes.

Kimiko, worried she’d done something wrong, gathered her cards back in her hands and furrowed her brows. 

“We’re not supposed to know what the other players have in their hands,” you told her, not unkindly, “it keeps the game fair and more interesting.”

After you dealt out a fresh set of cards, on the three of you played, glad that you’d finally found a game Kimiko could enjoy—until you placed down two sevens: one green, and one yellow.

“No,” stressed Frenchie, thick brows pinching together. “You’re not supposed to stack!”

“What do you mean, everyone stacks!”

“It’s practically cheating!”

“It’s not cheating! And how ironic, the man who builds bombs for a living is raggin’ on me for ‘cheating’ Uno!”

Crimson-faced, Frenchie shot back, “It defeats the entire purpose of the game! You either place the same color in one go, or you put the same number, you cannot place down two cards of the same number but different color—it makes no sense!”

The two of you burst into a heated argument between who was right, Kimiko glancing back and forth between the two of you with a baffled expression. After almost five whole minutes of bickering, cards were hastily shoved back into the deck. 

“Fine. We’ll play another game,” you huffed, glaring at Frenchie and childishly sticking your tongue out at him. “Sorry, ‘Miko. He’s just being a sourpuss.”

“At least I don’t have to cheat to win the game,” hissed the man, accent thickening with his frustration.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

“Here—why don’t we play Twister?”

Twister was also a disaster. Kimiko had nearly snapped Frenchie’s leg in half when she toppled on top of him, and Frenchie had accidentally kicked you in the face while he was twisting around to put his left leg on a red circle. All in all—it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.

“Alright… I guess playing games is a bust. You have anything else you wanna do, Kimiko?”

The woman’s expression lit up, and she tugged on Frenchie’s sleeve, miming cracking an egg open and frying it on a pan.

“You wanna cook?” he asked, grinning. “Sure—I’ve been meaning to teach you, anyways.”

The three of you filed into the dingy little kitchen, where Frenchie began pulling out ingredients. “We can make french toast. It is not actually French, but it will do for now.”

You were tasked with whipping the eggs while Frenchie showed Kimiko how to properly cut up the strawberries. It was all going smoothly—until the frying bit.

Somehow, Kimiko had ended up burning the toast with a pan that was far too hot. The two of you winced, telling her to try again. The second time, a small spark of fire somehow kindled aflame when Kimiko accidentally spilled some oil onto the stove. Hurriedly, you ran out of the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher, yanking the pin out and spraying the white foam all over the fire, ruining the remains of the french toast beyond salvation.

Frenchie wiped some of the extinguisher’s foam from his brow.

“Well,” he said, huffing out a sigh. “Anything else you wanna do?”

The three of you settled on watching a movie. It was an old sixties film that you couldn’t recall the name of, but it had Audrey Hepburn and the characters were singing a song about being a ‘prim and proper’ woman, which seemed to completely enrapture Kimiko’s attention.

“You okay?” Frenchie quietly asked you when he noticed that you weren’t paying much attention to the movie.

Instead, you had your gaze trained on Kimiko—on her sweet smile, on her indented dimples, on the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled as she laughed. 

“Yeah,” you distantly replied. “I’m just glad we got to spend the day together.”

Kimiko turned to you with a wide, toothy grin. She began signing, and you looked to Frenchie for the translation. 

The man had his own warm beam pulling his lips thin. “She says thank you for being so patient with her.”

You reached over to gently take Kimiko’s hand in yours. “It’s my pleasure, Kimiko, really. It’s not often we get days off—what with Butcher sending us on missions every other minute and Vought looking out for us like hawks. It’s nice to just relax for once.”

“Cheers to that,” said Frenchie, sipping on a bottle of beer he had procured out of seemingly nowhere. 

The three of you fell into a comfortable once more, fixing your attention back to the movie in front of you.

Not twenty minutes later, you and Frenchie had both fallen asleep, your dozing heads resting upon either side of Kimiko’s shoulders. She, however, stayed wide awake, watching the movie until the very last of its credits, silently mouthing along to the songs.

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine The Boys reactions when Firecracker exposes your past:

"Y/n, please open the door."

"I can't." Your voice was so small, so defeated. It broke something in Hughie. You'd always been so brave, so stubborn, so hard to get through to. In an instant, Firecracker turned you into a child. The minute your name popped up on the screen, your heart sank. You'd always been elusive about your past. None of your friends ever pushed the subject. They figured there was a reason behind that. A good reason. And there was. In a past life, not too long ago, you were someone different. A monster. A killer. And the worst part was, you were good at it. The best. Everyone wanted you on their side. You were brutal, and dangerous, and violent. Those skills carried over into your new life, your job. You thought you had finally put it behind you, though. They liked you for you, not for what you could do.

"Forget what that c-nt said." Billy says, attempting to make a joke but you just end up feeling worse. Tears stream down your face before you can stop them. You try not to sniffle too loud, hatred burning in your chest. At yourself, for what you've done, but also Firecracker and Homelander and everyone at Vought. You were pathetic. Stupid for thinking you could ever get out, start new. The names of all the people you've ever killed popped up on the screen. There were too many to count. Behind them, she spoke about how you should be locked up, that you were a danger to society. She had no proof though. Just the names and accusations. It was all true, though. You could deny it all you wanted, but it was true.

"Mon couer, we have all done things we are not proud of." Frenchies voice was close you, he must've been crouching. You sat on the bathroom floor, spine against door, knees to chest. Every night you'd lie awake and think about what you did. You'd replay every mission, every kill, every awful thing you've ever done. And then you'd get up in the morning and face the day and pretend it didn't happen. Now you couldn't do that. She called you terrible names. You deserved it. All of it. The hate, the disgust, everything. Your friends didn't think so, though. When they all looked back you were gone, the bathroom door slamming from down the hall. None of them knew how to make you feel better, what to say, but they had to try something. Anything. Firecracker had no right to do what she did. They were going to make her pay for this.

"Everyone knows. Everyone knows what I did."

[cainsau]

Just Between Us || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Hughie Campbell x GN!Reader (Platonic) Kimiko Miyashiro x GN!Reader

Summary: Set in S4E4. Hughie and Kimiko arrives at the office thinking it would be empty. But there you are, wondering where they've been and whose blood are on their clothes.

Warning: Spoilers for S4E4, ankle injury

Ever since you became a part of The Boys, you find yourself watching news on the TV more often. The people they put on the screen are not reliable most of the time. The information they share differ from what truly happened, but that's what makes it entertaining, the fact that you know they're blatantly lying through their teeth.

The TV lights up the office with its flashing, but dim colors. You don't even bother turning on the lamps, because you don't plan to stay there long.

As the presenter moves on to talk about a recent incident with Firecracker and Starlight, the door to the office opens.

Kimiko and Hughie enters, their arms supporting each other up. Kimiko's shirt is ripped off, and Hughie has a makeshift cast on his ankle. Both of them have blood on their faces and clothes, looking like they just got hit by a car or something.

You immediately get up from your seat, hurrying to help them. "What the hell happened to you two?"

As you help Hughie to a chair, Kimiko sits down and takes out her phone to type. 'We met A-Train, then got attacked by Shining Light.'

"A-Train? Are you serious? What were you guys doing with him?"

Kimiko glances frustratingly at Hughie, who is sitting on the chair next to her. He's oddly quiet. Then, she types on her phone again, 'He made a deal with him.'

"What deal?" You ask him, but he looks away.

Instead, Kimiko types, 'Getting a compound v.'

"I just-" He finally speaks, "It's the only way i can save my dad, okay?"

You let out a sigh, unable to argue. If you could save someone you love by turning them into a supe, you totally would too. At this moment though, you can't really say that out loud, so you decide to just get a medkit and patch them up.

'Treat him first. He can't heal like i do.'

"Alright." So you grab a chair and place it near him. Sitting down, you open the medkit, then gesture to him, "Give me your injured foot."

He puts his foot up, resting it on your lap, while Kimiko cleans herself beside you.

"Did you do this?" You ask Kimiko about the splint. She nods with a small smile. You return the smile, "Nice."

Carefully, you start cutting the tape of his DIY splint, then takes off his shoe and sock, revealing his bruised ankle. It's blue and a bit swollen. You take out the elastic bandage from the medkit and ask him, "Do you know how to properly wrap a bandage around your ankle?"

"No, uh, i don't..."

"Alright." You assure him, "I'll teach you right here so you can do it yourself later. Pay attention, yeah?"

He nods, and watches as you start with the bridge of his foot, around the bottom, then to his achilles tendon, and back to the bridge, which then you repeat until the roll is out. Lastly, you put the two clips on, and ensure they don't fall off.

"It feels so much better now, thanks a lot." He says, "How did you learn to do that though?"

You shrug, "I've sprained my foot before. Couldn't walk properly for a few weeks."

"You're telling me, i won't be able to walk for a few weeks?"

"Not really. You could walk a bit, earlier, right? So i'm guessing your injury is not as bad as mine. Just don't put your weight on it, and also, it would be better if you position it above your heart to let the blood flow."

He let out a breath, "Alright." Then moves the foot to a desk.

Kimiko pokes your shoulder to get your attention, then turns around, pointing to a spot on her back that has blood on it.

"You want me to help clean it?" You ask, to which she nods. "Of course."

The injury on that spot has already healed, but not completely. From the shape, you guess it was a gunshot. You shake your head. Sure, she's a supe who can regenerate, but it must've been painful to experience all that.

"You said you were attacked by Shining Light people," you say as you use a wet cotton on her injury, "What were they doing over there? I thought you were just making a deal with A-Train?"

She picks up her phone, and types, 'I killed a bunch of them, and they came for me.'

"Wait, you killed them? When?"

'A while ago.'

"You mean, that time when you left with Frenchie?"

She nods.

"I see."

You finish cleaning her injury, then tidy up the medical tools as Hughie also finished patching up a cut on his thigh by himself.

He then speaks up, "I'd really appreciate it if you don't tell the others about today."

"To be honest, they'll probably know sooner or later." You reply, which causes Hughie to look down in guilt. Then, you continue with a reassuring smile, "But yeah, don't worry, i'll keep this whole thing just between us."

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Hi ! Can I request a The boys short of all of them playingMario kart with reader ? Thank you !

Hello! For sure! I'm gonna do these as headcanons cause I think that will work better!

MM:

He is an expert Mario Kart player, from constantly playing with his daughter

He knows all the secret paths, the best vehicles to pick, and he absolutely has a favorite

(It's Bowser)

He does not like to lose AT ALL

The only person he's ever lost to is his daughter, and that's only because he let her

He will stew and stew and stew when he loses. He will walk away, swear he's not playing again, and within minutes is back to reclaim his territory

When just the two of you play, he will sometimes reveal what he knows, but only if he has a big lead

Hughie:

Hughie has played Mario Kart pretty much his whole life

That being said, he's not the greatest. He wins every once in a while, but only when he gets lucky, or plays someone truly terrible

His favorite is Yoshi, and will always be Yoshi

When he loses, it's no sweat. Sometimes he singles out someone he wants to beat, but winning is not usually his end goal

He becomes the person who teaches the older Boys how to play, and they quickly all beat him

You tease him because for someone his age, he should be so much better than he actually is

Kimiko:

Kimiko had never played Mario Kart before joining the boys

But after Hughie taught her how to play, she is easily the best of all of them

(Much to the chagrin of many of the more experienced members)

Her favorite is any of the princesses, but she has a love for Daisy specifically

She is an aggressive player, and focuses most of her energy on taking down her other opponents

She is a MONSTER with green shells. Sometimes she'll fall behind just to get green shells and take down the other players

The others want to beat her, but are always a little bit terrified of what would happen to them if they ever did (It's a good thing they never get that close)

When you play against Kimiko, it's not even close, so you usually just assist her in taking the others down

Frenchie:

It's no shock that Frenchie's favorite power up is the bomb

In fact, when he *doesn't* get that one, he becomes extremely angry, and has been known to throw his controller

He isn't prone to picking the same exact character, but he often finds himself playing as Toad

He had not played before, but he is usually the one to suggest they start playing (Usually with controllers in hand and the game already up)

Frenchie does not like to lose, but typically he loses his temper before the game is even over, and the computer ends up finishing for him

You have had to talk him down more times than you can count, and he listens, because you're the one who wants to play with him the most

Billy:

Billy does not like Mario Kart and he does not understand it

Hughie has tried to show him multiple times, but each time he just becomes angry and ends up storming out

He thinks all of them are childish for enjoying the game so much, and thinks it is just a violent mess of color

The few times they get him to play, he always picks Mario, because "the name is Mario Kart, who the bloody hell else would I play as"

He is the second most offender for throwing the controller

He also threatens to destroy the game any time he is annoyed with them all, but he hasn't done so yet

He does not like when you tease him for being old for not liking the game

"MM and I are around the same age"

"Well one of you acts 80, the other doesn't"

[destructivisms]

i have decided to...

OPEN WRITING REQUESTS!

i'm incredibly new to tumblr but not new to writing so this is going to be fun :) also bear in mind i have the freedom to not do any request if i want to. request in the ask box!

CURRENTLY WRITING FOR... THE BOYS (2019–)

more info under the cut!

FANDOM: at the moment, requests are only open for the boys (2019–). the brainrot is real. have watched all seasons and will write for most characters — will not write for the deep, stormfront, firecracker, and homelander (unless you have a really compelling dynamic/argument for these last two that i don't feel uncomfortable writing, idk why i can see my mind being changed; keeping it a vague no for now). and i will love you forever if you request for frenchie <3

WHAT I WRITE:

bullet point headcanons

short imagines/dialogues

ships — send like a paragraph describing your personality, likes, habits, lifestyle, anything you might find useful for me to know about you! the more i have, the more i can write.

preferences — if you really want a specific character that's not in the main group you should specify, because i'll mainly default to writing for the coup

both platonic and romantic dynamics for all of these! do you want a ship style ask but for who you'd be besties with? no problem!

i will also probably include friendships and a little insert of you in the universe in the ships :) (do you have any lore specifics? like, do you want to be a supe? you can say so! maybe you can even let me assign you a power... that would be cool)

WHAT I DON'T WRITE:

nsfw — there might be mentions of sex and having a sex life for any couple things, but i won't write straight up nsfw/smut, at least for now

longer fics — at the moment

more might be added depending on what i encounter in the ask box — i'm still not fully familiar with how these sorts of requests work.

thank you and happy reading!!

[lanitaminaj]

mon coeur

a short, cute passage on frenchie comforting kimiko after her brother got uhmm murked

frenchie x kimiko

"mon coeur?"

for several days, following her brother's death, kimiko had been avoiding the boys.

usually she'd be huddled up against frenchie, her sleepy form cradled tenderly underneath his arm, her slumped shoulders draped in one of his oak-brown, cargo jackets. the fabrics often effused a scent of marlboro cigarettes and dark-roasted midnight coffee, an oddly comforting array of aromas that made kimiko feel at home.

currently, she'd been crouched underneath one of the basement's ash-wooden dining tables, her sorrowful doll-eyes trained dejectedly onto the television's colorful pictures. she drowned herself in her favorite Japanese television shows and music videos, allowing herself simple pleasures to distract her from her reality.

frenchie, similarly, had been indulging in unhealthy hobbies of his own. his nose and jaw had begun to ache from his ecstasy overindulgence; his espresso-brown eyes rolled beneath his clenched eyelids.

he’d been in a daze of his own, yet his mind miraculously remained focus on one thing.

“mon ange,” the european man slurred, his knees crouched as he bent underneath the dining table. his little angel looked so crestfallen; her doe-eyes were bagged, a plump crescent-shaped fatness developed underneath them. her cheeks had been coated an apricot red, a sight so delicious it forced frenchie to restrain himself from taking a bite.

“look at me, mon ange,” he pleaded. “ma douce biche. regardez-moi.”

his sweet words called her to obey; her soft eyes melted frenchie’s cocaine-pumping heart as she looked heartbreakingly sorrow.

“oh, mon plus doux trésor,” the european cooed at his sad girl. his arms, fleecy and ash-scented, outstretched as they invited kimiko in. she subconsciously obliged, her muscles throwing her into the familiar warmth of frenchie’s mellow chest.

“that’s it,” he coaxed the weeping woman. his arms embraced her smaller, shaking form, his lips curling upwards as he felt the occasional hiccuping coming from his girl’s lips. “i’m here, mon coeur. papa est là.”

he rocked her tenderly, his eyes shut as he contentedly took in her smell. she smelled just like him, but with an added, unique kimiko-musk to her.

frenchie could feel his girl's labored breathing, the steady rise-and-fall of her chest and shoulders against his own enticed a little smile on the european's lips. kimiko's lips were parted against the fabric of frenchie's shirt, a blob of spit puddled onto it as soft snores exited her mouth.

"si somnolent, non?" frenchie cooed. he tucked his left arm underneath kimiko's legs, his own legs carried them to the couch that rested near the center of the room. he draped the woman's sleepy form against his thighs, his arms cradling her as he hummed sweetly to her.

"nothing's going to hurt you now, mon coeur," frenchie whispered, his brown eyes glittering with love and unshaken adoration. "je vous le promets."

[schoemu]

simple comme bonjour kimiko miyashiro x frenchie, part two of three

synopsis: and finally, nothing is a secret anymore; not the feelings, not the life, not the key to happiness.

wordcount: 2,743

genre: fluff

includes: cuddling, conversing, making peace.

To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring; it was peace.

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

Frenchie and Kimiko lay arm in arm, the female’s face cuddled up into his armpit. It's become a ›thing‹ between them a long while ago, most importantly in the hospital, where Kimiko dealt with the fear of breaking her bones for the first and last time, but the warm embrace is not only a sign of protection, it now also is a sign of love.

There are four, tight walls around the two which today they call home, with some cheap, but still as equally homely lamps they bought from the thrift store casting a comfortable orange hue on them, the blanket they stole from their former HQ keeping their intertwined bodies warm, and a cheap TV murmuring smart words to a scenery of green (since Frenchie still doesn’t do well with utmost silence—ironically enough). It is not much money that they paid to live in these conditions, but the crushing affection Frenchie feels for the woman breathing into his chest, it is priceless. 

The point of time for their small domesticity could frankly not be worse, they both know that, but when Kimiko starts to sign do you think Butcher, and Frenchie shuts her down by kissing her scalp with soundly pecks, he finally understands.

He tells Kimiko, with a kiss to the center of her forehead, don’t think about him. Don’t think about anything right now, mon cœur, and repeats the last two words, mon cœur; mon cœur; mon cœur continuously down her neck, until he hears her small sigh of defeat, the thud of her hands dropping down to the blanket. His arms tighten around her back, his forearms press into her flesh, and her fingers begin to caress his waist in idled patterns. No clear direction, no signs to be read, only the warmth of trust to be felt in the heart.

It is so little, Frenchie concludes, as he buries his nose behind her ear and closes his eyes, that is recipe for peace. 

In another circumstance, Frenchie might’ve called it ›putain de bêtise‹ (roughly translatable into motherfucking stupidity) but at this moment, he can’t think of anything other than the sweet, addicting notion of bliss. Happiness in its purest, most innocent, selfishly stupid form; the very contradiction of how the greatest thinkers of old, ancient times, or war-scarred writers would’ve defined it, but Frenchie can’t find himself caring. 

He could be ashamed of himself either way, for it is such a… boring scene he provides. It is not an ice-cold, herby glass of Pastis by the blue shore of Marseille’s most beautiful sites, with hot summer rays glowing down on their sun-screened skin, nor is it the highest skyline NYC can offer his moon-struck lover to gaze upon, while he tells her you are my little star with only his hands and his crescent smile.

No. Instead, it is a nameless place of two momentarily nameless people holding each other like they have so many nights before in a dingy apartment that only provides them the roof above their head and a crack of sky hiding between other buildings, only to fall asleep with a male voice narrating la nature in the background, and wake up in the morning with some white women sharing some tricks and other bits under forced laughter.

It is a pleasure so fragile. So incredibly fragile in fact, Frenchie’s heart could sink deep into his chest any second, if he lost a single thought about the days and deeds that inevitably follow the string of their future actions. Even now, sugar-rushed on Kimiko’s heavenly warmth, he can’t deny how his eyes lurk to their metal door every time he’s reminded, looking out for any potential danger. That is just their life, and it likely will be the end of it. A part of their daily that he has accepted, and Kimiko has accepted too. The fight is never won, and Frenchie can’t grow another limb. He can’t grow another pair of lungs, even if his last breath depended on it. Their time is limited, that is the truth of life.

And yet, they afford to bore each other. Above the passionate debates about men unable to change their minds, the endless musings of escaping from it all, of living a life that doesn’t take another’s, Frenchie and Kimiko treat themselves eternal, by simply taking a rest. Rest that goes beyond ›not giving a fuck‹ about supernatural disasters in form of blonde man-babies, killed presidents and betrayed friendships. It is rest in the form of dirty dishes in the sink, unwritten poems of hungry hearts, rest in the form of a hug that whispers, your existence in my arms is enough.

»C’est le paradis,« Frenchie murmurs into Kimiko’s ear, breaking the silence that both of them stopped counting the minutes for. It could’ve been hours of holding each other, a lifetime, and tomorrow, they’d do it again.

Pa-ra-di, Kimiko’s fingers echo, syllable for syllable from what she understood, and asks, what is that?

»Ah,« he chuckles, and it’s when he realizes the two of them have to freshen up their signed vocabulary. It’s been a while—they’ve gotten too used to SMS these days.

»Paradise,« he repeats, in English, and shuffles a little bit on the bed, to free his arms for movement. »You’ve heard of it, no, mon cœur?«

Kimiko nods—she has. Probably from Annie, on her boozed up, Christian ramblings, or… America. 

»What does it mean to you; paradise?«, he asks, slipping a bit higher on the pillows, resting his shoulder there, and Kimiko takes the cue to turn around, her back pressed to his chest, her curves against his curves like the petals of a blooming flower. Now, they can talk better. 

Nothing much. Sometimes it’s mentioned in music. Gun and rose, Frenchie reads, but quickly realizes, ah, no, Kimiko means to say, Guns N’ Roses. 

»Oui, I think I know. ›Paradise City‹, huh?«

Yes. But I don’t like the idea of green grass. I wouldn’t be able to relax. Too quiet. Suspicious. Kenji and I fantasized a lot about going to Hanayashiki.

»Ha-na-ya-shi-ki?«, Frenchie repeats, reading her fingers closely. »Qu'est-ce que c'est?«

An amusement park. Like VoughtLand. But better. It’s over 100 years old. 

»Ah, is that so? I didn’t even know they made parks that old,« Frenchie snickers. »What an exciting place to relax at… I figure the waiting queues at VoughtLand do take a lifetime, so might as well chill out, huh?«

It was shit.

»Indeed, it was. I will never get over the atrocities we have witnessed there; the donut-burgers? Mon Dieu, someone has to shut down that place, before it reaches Europe...«

Kimiko chuckles, and suddenly seeing a puppet Homelander blow up in blood is forgotten in a breeze.

»Eh bien,« Frenchie hushes quickly, before she can recall anything, »Paradis.« The male isn’t able to let go of the want to create the new word. It is not a requirement, not a need, but he wants the language he uses with Kimiko to include the truths of their relationship, even if most of them remain unspoken. 

»Let us say…« 

He grabs and guides her hands to knead them together, each finger intertwined with the other.

»This…«

Frenchie does it as well, arms caging her in circularly, and he feels like he’s praying now, but since he knows that Kimiko is not religious and also has bad experiences with churches, he figures that this sign is still free to use.

»This, we will call… paradise, oui?«

Kimiko continues keeping her hands folded, and Frenchie taps her left hand, as he unfolds his own.

»This,« he whispers, lips planted against her temple, his stubble slightly scratching her skin (but she never complains), »c’est moi…«

His lover smiles, nods, Frenchie isn’t sure whether she understands yet, but he continues nonetheless.

»And this, mon cœur,« he taps the right hand, »c’est toi. This is you, Kimiko.«

He lifts his right hand, and Kimiko immediately threads them together. One and one... making one.

Frenchie hums in satisfaction, peppering some more kisses to her cheek—never getting or giving enough—squeezing her hand.

»And together, we are paradise, you know? Forget about Adam and Eve, huh…?«, he grins, and the woman in his arms disagrees, cringes—makes a face, which Frenchie cups with his right, free hand. »You… are so adorable, Kimiko,« he sighs, the words finally slipping out naturally.

We are sinners, just like Adam and Eve, Kimiko signs in return, and even though there is nothing that should crush Frenchie more than the weight of the forever damned life he’s led in the years he’s lived, his conscience is floating on the promise of true love. She knows, and she still loves him. This knowledge, that kind of ignorance, it is dangerous, he knows that, but it’s not like he is refusing to know anymore by snorting cocaine or ketamine. He will forever carry the name of the drunken man who kills, Serge, Sergei, Frenchie, but in Kimiko’s arms, he becomes a lover. Pure, clear, sober.

»Mmm… a sinner, huh. You may be right, mon cœur,« he answers calmly, holding Kimiko’s chin with the palm of his hand, stroking her skin with his thumb, his arm resting across her chest. Her heart thumps against his elbow, and his eyes close to focus on the feeling.

»And we may never forgive ourselves for the things we have done,« he whispers, continuing on with his caress in a slow, comforting rhythm, »but I want to believe… that if there is a God who forgives… who shows mercy on those tortured by remorse...«

Kimiko shifts uncomfortably, wanting to argue back, but Frenchie holds her still, the other arm snaking around her waist from below, pulling her ever-so-possibly close.

»If such a God does exist, and if He is good, then Kimiko, He has given me… you. And to hell with me if I didn’t take this chance.«

It is not that easy, but, she signs, when he opens his eyes again—Frenchie is talking to someone who’s once been unwillingly injected with drugs, after all—yet adds to her own doubtful thoughts the hopeful wish that, I want you to be right too, you know?

He smiles and nods. »It’s just… a faithful fool’s rambling, mon cœur. I agree with you, of course. With Adam and Eve, the first sin, comes the burden of our choices… And with the ones we’ve made, ah… our lives were never meant to be easy.«

I mean, Kimiko gestures, this is easy, though. Being with you.

»Oui? Is that how you feel, Kimiko?«, he breathes out, and meets her gaze, as she turns her head over her shoulder. She nods.

»I find it easy too,« Frenchie admits, »I feel that we don’t… well, we, bien sûr, finish each other’s sentences, as the Americans say, but… that is not what I cherish the most about us. It is that we don’t need many sentences to begin with…«

He trails off, losing himself in Kimiko’s smile of affection, her eyebrows raised to her forehead, the white of her eyes vulnerable to the dry air of their apartment. It should be embarrassing, wearing his throbbing heart on his sleeve like this, but if it’s Kimiko seeing him with those gentle eyes, it feels nothing but good.

Did you drink?

»Moi? I didn’t, not to my knowledge, pourquoi?«

Just asking.

Frenchie chuckles and squints, before he whispers, »you are a good person, mon cœur,« and, before she can even inhale for an outraged gasp, adds, »someone like monsieur charcuterier… you don’t tell him about Marseille, swimming at the beach. I am not saying he can’t do good things, but, ah…« 

He chuckles, when Kimiko already agrees wholeheartedly. Don’t defend him. Butcher can go fuck himself. That asshole. Their shared rebellious distaste for the Briton has become quite comical over time, but Frenchie strokes over her wrists in a successful attempt to calm her down. She does.

»What I mean to say is, good people, they dream,« he says, »and for me, that is le paradis. To dream of tomorrow and still be content with today; what is that, if not heaven?«

Have you considered writing?

»Writing? Moi?«, the male smirks sheepishly but he knows better than to feed into that thought. He already falls into too many French stereotypes, but there’s also a bitter aftertaste, a voice taunting him for his wordy, gutful composings (don’t make me kill; it is like acid to my heart) wired in his brain like a thorn. However, it is Kimiko. And for once, Frenchie might actually consider it, when they do finally leave this place. The world looks like it is in dire need of a good dream right now, he thinks, but jokes, »we will become even broker than we already are,« instead.

I don’t care! You know what I’ve always wanted to learn?

»No, tell me, mon cœur.«

The piano.

The piano?, Frenchie repeats, his fingers dangling in the air, his smile widening in excitement, as he cuddles her closer. That idea alone, his Kimiko, making sound through the ebony and ivory tiles, is music to his ears.

»Mon cœur… that would be magnifique!«

I could play so many songs.

»Even Guns ‘N Roses, huh?«

Imagine all the movie soundtracks!

She’s so thrilled, and it moves Frenchie to absolute joy. Every time her eyes widen, her hands shake in small, giddy movements, it’s like she’s adding five exclamation marks to an SMS, or writing in all caps; Frenchie wants to capture these small expressions of excitement for eternity, but for now, he promises himself to make this simple sequence a good memory.

»You could play all your favorite musical numbers... The Sound of Music, Singing in the Rain…«

Yes! And you sing along!

»Me? Sing? Oh, mon cœur, you expect so much of me…«

You sing!

»Ah… you know what? For you… I am willing to try.«

It will sound so bad! 

Frenchie gasps, »Mon cœur!«, and grabs his cœur in question by her shoulders, looking into her eyes in feigned hurt, and Kimiko just laughs soundlessly, shrugging by saying, because of your smoking!

»Oui… but I quit it with the hard drugs, non? The therapy groups have helped— it’s what you said, too,« he retorts, pouting at her, but secretly just enjoying her having fun at teasing him.

Sure, because snorting cocaine was the problem. 

»What do you know about snorting coke, huh?«, Frenchie grins, and flips the female once, twice, so he’s now on his back, a flailing, giggly Kimiko clenched tightly in his arms. 

Do you not remember how I had to clean after your blood last—

»Non, non! Lies! I remember no such things!«

Frenchie cuddles her until he’s snuggled the breath out of his lungs, and grunts, when she shifts on top of him, stomach to stomach, Kimiko’s ear listening in on the heart that beats for her.

»You will learn to play the piano,« he muses under his breath (the likelihood of you going through with things is higher, when whispered to yourself, he learned somewhere), brushing through her locks, »et moi, I will sing for you, as best as I can. Like a duet… Judy Garland, Gene Kelly? With a very bad Gene Kelly, huh?«

I was joking about you not being able to sing.

»Ah, mon cœur, I was joking, too. Last time I checked, Louis Armstrong was a pothead, and the great Nat King Cole, he—«

Lung cancer?

»Ah, you already know, huh? Oui… smoked three packs every day, c’est incroyable,« Frenchie chuckles, kissing the top of Kimiko’s head, wrapping himself around her and her arms like a gift. It is the equivalent of silencing her, in a way, but it’s not like she wouldn't be strong enough to pull herself away. (She doesn’t, and that’s all Frenchie needs to know.)

»I will try,« Frenchie grumbles, »I will try to sing and I will try to live long.«

Kimiko kisses his neck. You better, she seems to say, and it tickles a chuckle out of him.

»Look, mon cœur. The penguins are cuddling in the cold.«

She raises her head, looks to the TV for a second, eyes heavy by the soporific that is Frenchie’s body and his voice. She smiles, nods, and leans back down, missing the words ›the ice is melting in Antartica‹ on the screen. Frenchie inhales deeply through the nose and sighs. Quelle chance.

With Frenchie kissing Kimiko’s forehead, interlacing his fingers into hers, they spell it again, paradise, and for a moment, the French man doesn’t feel lost in all what has become of him. He feels whole, content, and wishes for an eternity that shows nothing but the same scene.

What a blind, selfish, yet lucky journey it is, the road back to Garden Eden.

His stubble scratches the skin of her curled hand, and his lips wrap around each of her knuckles, when Frenchie begins to count the days in Kimiko’s eyes; not those that’s passed, but those to come. 

»Tu es mon paradis, Kimiko,« he whispers, and Kimiko kisses him silent.

hello there! :-) this had a lot of prose in it that i dedicate fully to the feelings and thoughts about my own love life and reading of the book the unbearable lightness of being. it is both a love letter to the humanity of this pair and lovers painted by milan kundera, and i feel full having written it.

(full, if it wasn't for the fact i could not find any better cuddly scenes of kimiko and frenchie.........v_v)

hope you could enjoy it! ♡

[gwendolynnderolo]

just realized that it’s unlikely that kimiko had a word for marseille in the sign language that her and her brother came up with because they would have had no reason to be talking about marseille, and when kimiko tells frenchie that they should go to marseille it doesn’t look like she’s finger spelling it, which means her and frenchie probably came up with a sign for marseille together and now i’m emotional about this

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Grimace Milkshake

The Boys Headcanons

(124 words)

Summary: The Boys get the Grimace Milkshake; hijinks ensue.

Warnings/Tags: The Grimace Milkshake, Toilet humor, Grimace’s wrath

Notes: I can’t escape the Grimace videos

Hughie Campbell

He really likes it :)

Dips his fries

Made his stomach hurt :(

Billy Butcher

Thinks it’s too sweet, doesn’t finish it

Eats the rest of his food tho

Starts coughing up purple within 4 hours of consumption

Mother’s Milk

“Hey, this ain’t half bad!”

Oh boy he REALLY does not feel good (diarrhea)

He thinks it was worth it tho

Frenchie

He’s fascinated

He does the before and after taste test with the fries to see if it tastes like berries

Bedridden for 48 hours

Kimiko Miyashiro

Only tries it because of Frenchie tbh

She doesn’t like it

She survived and is EASILY the lone survivor

[hellsdogs]

** I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE HUNTED ** kimiko miyashiro with the hound, or whoever knows asl gfjkkjfgkjfgkjfg <33 sorry for spam, ur intros and the aesthetic looks so good i couldn't help it!!!

"Yeah?" He questions out loud as he lights another cigarette. The flame flickering under the dimmed lights of the place. A small bar, one that's miles away from Tokyo. Osaka hasn't been kind to him : through all his way here he made enemies, pissed off the wrong people and now he's a marked man. Revenge has consumed him to the bone; to a point where there is no way back now. He believes he won't get no rest until he puts a bullet in the head of the men who did what they did to his family. He cannot help but to imagine himself dying at the quest. There is no fear in death as long as he takes them with him to the grave. Who will find the other first, is the question. His life is no longer one of glory but of endless travel from one hotel room to another, always in a perfectly ironed suit, bruised and alone. "How can you even tell I'm hunted?" He speaks, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey, the cubes dancing in it. "I wish I could tell you all about it but who knows, you might be one of those who wants my head on a spike. If that's the case, don't tell just now. I haven't had company in a while." He hasn't. His eyes travel to her face, studying her features. Perhaps he finds himself talking to her as he is the only one in here who can understand her. Kimura knows asl. Many wouldn't suspect the typical violent yakuza man who barely had an education to know his signs, many wouldn't guess how he learned them, why and for who either, but he did. He focuses then, as he is quite rusty. His hands move carefully, now up close to his chest as he signs the words. ** You're not from here either, are you? **

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine The Boys looking after you:

"Y/n's not doing to well."

"Hughie-"

"Butcher," M. M. interrupts, keeping his voice low. "Look at them. They're, they're-" They all turn towards the couch, the TV, where you lie, curled up in a ball. Unblinking. Watching the nature documentary about the birds of South America. You haven't washed any of the blood off you. Your clothes were soaked, your skin sticky with red, hair matted. Everyone came back to the hideout and went their separate ways, washing and changing, taking time to ruminate on what just happened. No one noticed what you were doing, how quiet you'd become. Only when they came back together, making half-hearted jokes, did they notice. Hughie tries to talk to you, but you weren't really there. Your face was blank, your eyes stuck on the screen. He was worried. They all were, even if Butcher wanted to pretend he wasn't, he was. Denying it was easier than dealing with it.

"Falling apart." Frenchie finishes. Kimiko signs to him, worry in her expression. "Kimiko is right. We need y/n. We cant keep doing this to them." Ignoring the problem. Ignoring all the little ways you were putting yourself in danger. Ignoring your sleepless nights, the contrast between constant worry and feeling nothing, the ways in which you threw yourself into dangerous situations without a second thought and then reacting like this, becoming a shell of yourself. You were vital to the team, yes, but you were also their friend. They cared about you, they worried about you. They couldn't let this cycle keep going, it would end up killing you. You'd barely moved since you got back. Butcher knew this life had been hard on you, but, he hoped like with everyone else, you would bounce back to your old self. The longer this went on though, the worse it got. There was no denying it anymore. Something was deeply wrong and they had to figure it out before it was too late.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

[cainsau]

Hi if you take requests could I send one in for being part of the boys Kimiko looking after R like a sibling figure and R is reckless and worries her and the rest of the boys.

A Taste of Death || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Kimiko Miyashiro x GN!Reader

Summary: The mission is to kidnap a Vought scientist from a lab, hoping to get information out of him, but what you get is a taste of death instead. Maybe you shouldn't have taken that Temp V for this.

Warning: non-graphic suicide

Author's Note: Hi! Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this one :]

Masterlist

The first time you took Temp V, it wasn't very obvious what your power is. Unlike Hughie who teleports, or Butcher and his laser eyes, your new ability is something that isn't really visible nor useful in combat.

Your power is a lot like Mesmer, the not-so-famous Supe who can read memories through touch. But, not only can you read others' memories, you can also feel and experience them, which you don't really know is good or bad... until today.

The team separated into different groups. You and Kimiko are tasked to kidnap a scientist from the lab or at least get some important information out of him. Unfortunately, the scientist manages to get a hold of your gun, then points it to himself.

He pulls the trigger, but the gun jams, leaving a few seconds for you to sprint towards him. Seeing you approaching, he panics, trying a few times to fix the jammed gun, and as you finally reach him, your power activates, letting you see his memories. However, it doesn't last for even 5 seconds as the gun unjams and releases a bullet that goes straight through his head.

The sensation of getting shot transfers almost perfectly into your mind, except there's no pain.

The scientist falls to the ground with a thud, and you freeze in place, with your whole body shaking.

Did you just experience... death?

Kimiko comes up from behind you. She ignores the dead scientist, and immediately turns to you. It's not your first time seeing someone getting killed, so when she realizes you're not moving, she knows there's something wrong, then very worriedly signs, 'Are you alright?!'

You're too shocked to say anything. There's a weird feeling all over your body, as if someone just drowned you in ice water. You're also getting goosebumps all over.

She shakes you by the shoulders, like trying to wake you up from this weird trance you're in. When you finally look at her, your voice shake as you speak, "I feel like... i just died?"

'What do you mean?'

"I took Temp V, and-"

She knows about you taking Temp V and the power it gives you, but she's not aware that you're using it right at this moment.

You continue, "I was still in his mind when he..."

Her previously sour expression turns into something more sympathetic. As a Supe with regenerative abilities, she's died and come back to life several times by now, it's almost like she got used to it. You, on the other hand, are just a normal person. She realizes how horrifying that experience must be for you, even though you didn't actually die.

'Did you get hurt?'

"No, no, i'm okay."

She lets out a sigh, a mixture of disapproval and relief, then aggressively signs, 'Don't you dare do something like that again.'

"Sorry."

The team notices your abnormal behavior for the rest of the day, and when they learn about what happened, they definitely won't let you take more Temp V in the future.

[goremances]

REBLOGGING MYSELF BUT

i kind of want to write a fic where homelander is the one who finds the shining light cell/kimiko instead of the boys. like... he's lasering the shit out of everyone but when he gets to kimiko in the cage he pauses.

because for a moment he sees himself in her glare. he sees himself in the way she's practically feral and he's impressed that she doesn't seem afraid of him. he sees himself seeing a supe in a cage who is obviously being used as a weapon. used for other people's

so he takes the cage with her in it back to his penthouse, even if he isn't really sure why. and eventually, he lets her out and somehow gains (some) of her trust and then idk it goes from there.

he's still awful and he's still homelander but he has something and lbr since this would be in s1 stillwell would still be kicking around and she'd probably hate kimiko because she'd be a wild card. because she'd be something that would make homelander that little bit harder to control.

and maybe that's how she meets the boys because she's a link to homelander. a link that makes no sense. and then she's stuck between the boys and homelander??

and homelander and kimiko either make each other better or most likely make each other... worse. but i think kimiko is still longing to be good since she still would see herself as a monster even if she doesn't have frenchie to act as her anchor.

i really feel like these two are different sides of the same coin. they were both created to be weapons. both created in abusive environments (that were very different). both deprived of care. both have people afraid of them because of who they are.

but then frenchie found kimiko. frenchie wasn't scared of her, he showed her kindness, love. she was able to break out of that cycle. what would have happened if the boys didn't find her? what would she have become.

this season they've both been confronting their past and going after the people who hurt them (love that for them).

WHY HAVEN'T THEY HAD ANY SCENES TOGETHER?! like no proper scenes. i need them to interact. even if just briefly.

also i'm biased and they're my faves but like...

[a-libra-writes]

The Boys and Supes having a Telepathic S/O

In this imagine we'll be mind-reading: Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher, Frenchie, MM, Kimiko, Starlight, Homelander, Queen Maeve, Black Noir

Hughie Campbell

It’s not too surprising, but he has hilariously jumpy and scattered thoughts, sometimes dispersed with calmer, tired ones. Some are dark, most are anxious, and some are the cutest passing thoughts that you just have to grin. Hughie always knows when you’re reading him because you smirk and try to hide it. Sometimes you pretend to do it just to mess with him. It doesn’t actually freak him out, though. Hughie’s found that it’s nice that you can just understand how he feels without him struggling to articulate it, and working alongside you is easy when you can just read minds to get information. It’s much less violent than what the others do... though you've reminded him several times that he doesn't need to mentally shout to get your attention.

Billy Butcher

You two got off on the worst foot possible because Billy hates the idea of your powers, let alone when you use them. He’s torn between never wanting to think about it and thinking about it a lot. What you’ve seen in him, in others, how you could use it to kill them… but you don’t. And you’ve never tried to hurt him or the Boys. You read all his bravado and hate and (occasional) admiration, yet you stick around. The longer your together, the more he thinks better of you, and the more he hates you can read that, too. Sometimes Billy thinks bizarre shit or mean things just to set you off, but it never works. It’s a rocky and bumpy path, Billy eventually giving up trying to block and hide and protect himself… so you hear all that self-hatred and bitterness, bundled up in all the sadness and admiration and feelings surrounding you. It’s so many feelings. Whenever you’d reach out mentally, trying to ask if he was alright, Billy would never respond. He never blocked you outright, either… so you’d keep saying soothing words, trying to do what you could to comfort him.

Frenchie

He’s very interested in your power and the application of it. Right away, Frenchie is thinking scandalous, weird shit just to get a reaction out of you and test the limits of your powers. Often he’ll scream in his head to see if you “hear” it better, test the distance of the link, try to get your attention with his thoughts when you can’t see him, and so on. Eventually you get so used to Frenchie’s weird experiments and silly thoughts… so when he finally gets you to laugh or gasp or cringe outwardly, he just laughs triumphantly. Frenchie doesn’t bother to filter or hide his thoughts like some. There’s no point and he has better things to do, he says… His mind often goes 100mph anyway. You’ll hear how much he earnestly cares for others, how he cares for you, how he hates some people and what he thinks of his past and himself. All in all, you and Frenchie would quickly become close just by virtue of how open he is with his mind.

Melvin Milk

While MM thinks your powers are a bit strange and maybe too invasive, he quickly figures how they can be used to help others. He emphasizes that to you right away, and greatly admires you if you’re the sort of person who tries to use your powers like that. That doesn’t mean he wants you rooting around in his head, but his thoughts are never as destructive as Billy’s or erratic as Frenchie’s. Often you hear MM worrying about others, his family, his team — and the anxious, obsessive thoughts that push their way in. You hear him worry about you, how he cares about you, open thoughts that he forgets to hide because he trusts you and doesn’t see you as any different. When he’s stressed, you know just what’s bothering him, so you can help him best. This close bond also means if you use your abilities to hurt or manipulate others, his disapproval will be clear as a bell, as though he were shouting it in your head.

Kimiko Miyashiro

Being able to directly understand Kimiko and her pain makes you a bit of a go-to person to handle her, with Frenchie begging you to please help him understand. At first, Kimiko was unsure and wary of you. She couldn’t pinpoint your powers right away, but once she did, it made her anxious and untrusting, like you’d use her mind against her. It took a lot of reassuring and time before she began to trust you and slowly open up. It was so easy to just think and show you her pain, when she couldn’t speak it. There are still times when Kimiko doesn’t want you in her head, and she pointedly walks away or tells you to leave if that’s the case. But other times she appreciates how she doesn’t have to struggle to express her trauma. She just has to walk in the room and you’re already there to comfort her.

Starlight

You would have to be working alongside the Boys too, because otherwise you would quickly suss out the double-crossing game she was playing. Many times Annie has thanked god you were on her side, because she struggles to keep her thoughts guarded around you. It’s hard enough to keep up that mental barrier all the time, but you’re nice and considerate in spite of your abilities. You both work well together, though sometimes she’s anxious you’re picking up on all the nice things she’s thinking about you, or shit she’s thinking about others… it makes trying not to read her kind of hard. Annie prefers when you’re honest about when you’re doing it. Sometimes when she’s afraid and sending anxious thoughts without thinking, she meets your eyes across the room and you give her a comforting smile. It makes her feel ten times better.

Homelander

He’d be furious if he figured it out, so it’s best to just tell him outright. The only way for John to handle this ‘maturely’ is if he already had feelings for you, and you had a record of being honest with him… and if you used what you read from others to help him. It’s a balancing act of pretending you aren’t reading whatever John is thinking and using it to settle him down when he’s clearly distressed. While your powers mean you’re in a unique position to understand and handle him better than anyone else, it also means you’re hearing a lot of his more disturbing, intrusive thoughts. Even the times when he’s thinking fondly of you are entwined with feelings of possessiveness and co-dependence … but that’s just how John is, really. When you feel he’s about to explode, you’ll whisper soothing words in his head and try to talk him down… and it’s always surprising when out of nowhere, you’ll hear him reaching out across the building, quietly asking you to talk to him first.

Queen Maeve

First, she hates how vulnerable it makes her feel. Maeve has made it clear she doesn’t want you poking in her head - even if it’s often involuntary - and although she cares about you … she hates the idea of you reading every bad thought she has about herself and others. When she thinks you aren’t paying attention, her negative thoughts will intrude in your mind, and it makes you hurt to know she’s s upset. Though you also get all the unfiltered thoughts of how she feels about you and worries about your safety, the things she’s too afraid to say openly. Sometimes she goes to your arms and spills out confessions in her head because she just can’t say it out loud, and you stroke a hand up her back while her mind becomes more frantic. Though she hates it when you intrude in her mind, sometimes when you whisper nice things and try to soothe her, she lets you stay inside.

Black Noir

Your powers actually make your relationship with him easier. You’ll hear all the sweet things he thinks about you, all the funny shit he thinks about everyone else. Seriously, he’ll think up the most ridiculous stuff just to get you giggling in the middle of a meeting. You both can have an easy silence in your shared apartment, saying nothing with words, just having a witty and fast conversation mentally. He can be surprisingly talkative, which makes you wonder how starved he’s been for communication and companionship. Most people think your relationship is bizarre, but it works for you two. Black Noir also likes that if either one of you is in danger, you can send each other mental warnings. Many times he’s honestly said he’s comforted by the idea he can mentally reach out and you’ll respond.

[dhampiravidi]

Imagine Black Noir & Kimiko becoming friends.

[eddievedders]

Irvin Yalom– he once said you, you die twice. Once, when you stop breathing, and again when somebody utters your name for the last time.