#literally not enough decent shots for me to choose from

[keirahknightley]

Costume appreciation series: Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998) dir Andy Tennant

Costume Design by Jenny Beavan

+bonus

[vitalverstappen]

House Rules - C. Sainz

summary: everyone knew you loved halloween, but no one knew just how much.

pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n

word count: 1.4k

a/n: literally got this idea while driving home from work today and scrambled to write it to get something out for you guys for halloween!

masterlist

It was well known that Carlos was a partier. Even if he was nowhere near the podium, you knew he was going to find his way to a local club. His energy was infectious, and his love for staying out till dawn was a constant in his life. 

You, on the other hand, adored Halloween. The scary movies, the candy, the pumpkin carving - everything about it filled you with joy. It was your favorite time of year, beating out the other holidays by a long shot. There was something magical about the crisp autumn air, the thrill of ghost stories, and the excitement of choosing a costume. 

So, it was a no-brainer to combine the two this year and host a Halloween party for the grid. As the day approached, you decorated your house with cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns, and the occasional fake body part. A photo booth was set up in one of the guest rooms, filled with props and eerie backdrops. 

Meanwhile, Carlos put himself in charge of making all of the treats, knowing you’d burn the place down if you tried. His famous witches brew was the center of it all though - a giant smoking cauldron, filled with most likely dangerous levels of alcohol and mixers.  

The costume you two landed on was Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. It was safe enough for when the little kids came by trick-or-treating, but easy to spice up for later in the night.

As the night kicked off, the house buzzed with excitement. Friends arrived in droves, dressed in a mix of costumes - from witches, to pop culture icons, to inside jokes you would never understand. 

You and Carlos found yourselves at the beer pong table. Lando and his girlfriend had been running the table all night, and it was your turn to challenge them.

“Ready to lose?” Lando taunted, flashing a cocky grin

“Yeah, sure” Carlos said, rolling his eyes with a smirk

While Lando and his girlfriend were good, Carlos quickly fell into a rhythm. With each flick of his wrist, the ball sank into a new cup, and you could see the confidence grow in him. You were terrible, missing just about every shot you took. 

“Here, cariño, let me help,” Carlos said, leaning in closer to show you how to hold the ball properly. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Lando whined from across the table

“House rules” You called back before looking at your boyfriend. “Teach me your ways”

Carlos grinned as he took your hand, adjusting your grip on the sticky ping pong ball. “Just focus on the cup. And remember, it’s all in the wrist.”

With his guidance, you finally managed to land a shot, the ball bouncing into the cup with a satisfying splash. 

“See? You’re a natural” Carlos teased as you felt a rush of unexpected excitement. 

Lando and his girlfriend ended up clawing back for the win, leaving the table to be theirs. You were silently thankful for the loss, as you weren’t sure how many decent shots you had left in you. 

You were already feeling tipsy from the game, but you still found yourself back at the cauldron. There, you found Alexandra and Charles dressed as Ginny and Harry from Harry Potter. 

“Hey! So glad you could make it!” You said as you poured yourself a red solo cup full of Carlos’ concoction, the bright colors swirling both enticingly and as a warning. “How’s it going?” 

“We’re glad we could make it.” Alexandra said. “We’ve been good.” 

“Currently just trying to dodge the beer pong table. I’ve seen Lando running it all night. How did you do?” Charles asked, adjusting his glasses 

“Let’s just say I need more practice.” You said, shaking your head though there was a small smile on your face. “Carlos helped out a lot” 

“Of course he did. He’s a pro at everything” Alexandra laughed, glancing over at Carlos who was too busy trying to convince Pierre to join in playing another round of pong. 

“He’s definitely got the skills.” you replied, taking a sip of the drink, wincing as the drink burned your throat “ But I think I might stick to just munching on the candy.” 

“Speaking of candy, did you guys spike the gummy worms?” Charles asked, raising his eyebrow with a grin 

You nodded, a fresh gleam in your eye “Yeah, you like them?” 

“They’re addicting” Charles said 

As the night continued, the drinks kept flowing, leading to hazy decisions. The apple bobbing station was more packed than you had expected it to be, George currently the one taking his shot. You walked over, curious to see what the excitement was about. 

Standing over George was Alex, egging him on to go faster. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer determination on George’s face as he fought to get the fruit. 

“You’re doing a shit job, mate” Alex said as George gasped for air

“It’s not my fault this thing wasn’t built for tall people in mind!” He complained, water streaming down his face 

“Let me help,” Alex said as he flashed a mischievous grin. He placed his hand on the back of George’s head, shoving it back into the water. 

Moments later, George reemerged, sputtering, laughing through the exasperation. “Dude, what the hell?” he yelled, wiping his face with his hand 

Alex just laughed, clearly enjoying the scene that played out “You have to commit! You won’t get anywhere with that half-hearted effort” 

Every time you refilled your cup, you found yourself reaching a new high. The colors of the party blurred together, creating a dreamy haze. You leaned back against one of the walls, watching the chaos of the party. An arm wrapped around your waist, and without even looking, you knew it was Carlos. 

You leaned into his warmth, feeling a surge of affection. “How’d the second pong game go?” you asked 

Carlos chuckled, the rise and fall of his chest comforting “I managed to convince Pierre and Kika to take over, so it’s going great now” He motioned to the table, where the couple was trying to master the game. 

“Good luck to them, they need it” You chuckled as you turned to face your boyfriend. 

Carlos looked down at you, his soft eyes quickly transitioning to ones full of mischief. “I think we need to shake things up a little and see who can handle the witches brew”

“That sounds so ominous” you laughed “You could’ve just suggested a drinking contest”

The two of you made your way over to the cauldron, a stack of solo cups waiting for you. The neon colors of the liquid glowed ominously in the dim light. You filled two cups up to the brim with the liquid, already dreading your agreement to do this. 

A few of the other drivers and their respective others grabbed cups, quickly piecing together what was about to go down. The ones who didn’t reach for a cup, whipped out their phones to record. 

“Three, two, one - go!” 

You threw your head back, gulping down the sweet yet potent mixture. The crowd cheered, laughter and playful shouts filling the air. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raced to finish your drink. 

Glancing over, you caught sight of Carlos, his focus intense. You could see the competitive spark in his eyes as he downed the cup, the two of you neck-and-neck.

With one final gulp, you slammed your cup down on the ground, throwing your hands up in victory. “Another win” you exclaimed, breathless. 

Carlos, a moment behind, laughed and wrapped his arms around you. “Only because I let you, mi hermosa”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that” you teased, enjoying the moment in Carlos’ arms. 

The party continued, fueled by more drinks and the infectious energy in the room. You danced alongside Carlos, letting the music guide you. 

As the night wore on, you took a moment to step outside on the balcony for some fresh air. The cool autumn breeze kissed your cheeks, and you took a deep breath, savoring the scent of fallen leaves. 

Carlos joined you, slipping his hand into yours as you both leaned against the railing. “What do you think?” he asked, glancing at the party through the window, where you’re pretty sure you saw Toto up on someone’s shoulders.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t want to spend Halloween any other way” you answered

He smiled, his gaze softening “Neither would I” 

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 542,974 more

tagged: carlossainz55, francolapinto

yourusername: first ever sainz-l/n halloween party! thanks to everyone for coming and making the best holiday even better! p.s. williams, franco isn't dead, i just found him sleeping on my stairs

view all comments

user1: I NEEDED A HALLOWEEN WAG! THANK GOD

user2: ikr, all of them go hard for everything else, except the best holiday

francolapinto: why did you take a photo instead of WAKING ME UP AND GETTING ME TO BED??

yourusername: you looked comfy, I didn't want to wake you charles_leclerc: mate i could've shared the bathtub with you user3: hold up, charles was in the BATHTUB??? carlossainz55: someone had one too many spiked gummy worms

landonorris: i still can't believe you cheated at pong. shoulda been DQ'd

carlossainz55: it wasn't cheating, she couldn't land a ball if the cups were the size of a lake yourusername: you guys know I get notifs for you roasting me on my own post, right?

landonorris: yes. carlossainz55: yes.

user4: is that...george? ...bobbing for...apples?

alex_albon: yes. he lost though. george is a loser.

georgerussell63: i would've won if you didn't idk push my head in

alex_albon: still a loser.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Thoughts on this scenario?: Alucard sometime before s3 or during s3 meeting Trevor's older sister (neither of them are aware they have a sibling who survived the massacre) after she show up at the castle knocking on his door with her knife like "WHY is Dracula's castle on top of my family's ruins?!" I think it would be very interesting for both of them. (Especially once Alucard tells her that her little brother is alive.)

A/N: Lol, this is effing hilarious! I can totally just see Alucard watching this woman come out of nowhere and start throwing cheap shot punches and being like: “There’s ANOTHER Belmont??” 

Alucard Meeting Trevor’s Older Sister Headcannons 

So she shows up to what she expected to be nothing more than a pile of ruins only to find said pile of ruins plus a giant ass castle next door. Which makes no sense because 1) Why not repair the Belmont home if someone was going to build something there? And 2) Why choose to make a big ugly-ass castle of all things? 

On the inside, she’s like: ‘Has it really been THAT long?’ (Maybe, lol.) 

Once the initial shock subsided, she’s like, ‘Okay, this thing’s gotta go’ because again, it’s ugly af, and it can’t be good for the open-earthed Belmont Hold to be responsible for supporting all that weight. 

So she goes to the door and starts banging on it like she owns the place. 

Of course, the doors swing open revealing a very disgruntled Alucard. 

Commence the interrogation.

She’s all like: ‘Who the fuck are you?’ 

And he’s like, ‘Um, excuse me, I live here, who the hell are you?’

And she’s like, ‘Well I lived here first!’ 

And Alucard’s like, ‘That’s a very immature argument.’ 

And she’s all like, ‘Oh yeah? You wanna go pip-squeak?’ 

And Alucard’s like ‘I’m literally a foot taller than you.’ 

And she’s like ‘Well fine, that makes you the perfect height for me to do this!’ And she knees him in the groin. 

…

…

Suddenly it clicks for Alucard. “Are you by any chance a Belmont?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

Needless to say, the two of them are quite shocked to learn the identity of the other. She’s half in denial that her little brother, if he really is alive, would be friends with a dhampir. And Alucard’s not sure she is Trevor’s sister once they get to talking, mainly because she’s well-spoken and rather intelligent when not she’s not threatening to kick his ass, something Trevor is not. 

But from his descriptions of their battle with Dracula, her gut tells her it really must be her brother Alucard’s speaking of. 

“I take it you didn’t know he was alive, then,” Alucard says. 

She's like, yeah, no shit. 

But she still has a lot of unanswered questions: how did Trevor manage to escape? How did he survive being so young on his own? Why didn’t she hear of his existence until now? 

Alucard doesn’t have all the answers, but he does have good food and wine, so she decides to crash in the castle with him until her brother returns. 

It’s good for Alucard to have the company, mainly because he was starting to lose his mind. (Something she would pick up on like right away lol.) 

But that’s okay because almost being murdered as a kid and then running from place to place fighting the odd supernatural creature has made her a bit crazy so they’re a decent pair. 

Oddly enough, I think they sort of mellow each other out: she’s just hyper/nuts enough to get Alucard to stop wallowing in self-pity. And he’s just cautious and introverted enough to keep her from accidentally (ahem*intentionally*) burning the place down. 

Sure, there’s a lot of ribbing, and witty jokes thrown back and forth between the two of them, but they’d probably form a strong bond based on mutual respect and necessity. Alucard realizes his mental and emotional state will improve if she stays, and she realizes her chances of fulfilling her destiny as a Belmont increase tenfold should she stay and learn from the ‘enemy’ himself. 

Of course, it takes a while for them to overcome their residual prejudices of one another, especially on Belmont’s side. She’s spent her entire life viewing vampires as monsters- something to be eradicated- it’s not exactly something you can unlearn overnight. But Alucard is such an enigma, and the more she hears of his and Trevor’s travels and adventures in defeating Dracula, the more she sees him as human- the more she sees him as a friend, even. 

They get very close. So close that they even think up ways to prank Trevor once he comes back, planning especially to use her existence as the central super-charged element of surprise. 

Who knows, maybe if she was there with Alucard post-S2, things would have turned out more positively with the twins' arrival in S3. If Alucard wasn’t so dependent on them and them alone for companionship, he wouldn’t have been so hesitant to quickly teach them everything they wanted to know as a way to keep them at his castle longer. If Alucard was more open and forthcoming, the twins might have felt encouraged to put all their own cards on the table before making the drastic (and fatal) move that they did. 

Thanks to her existence, any monsters nearby stand no chance against the occupants of the castle and the surrounding villages. With the newfound double-trouble Belmonts, no one ever has to be scared (or lonely) ever again. 

[kafus]

you guys are not gonna believe what i just beat red with LMFAO. set mode + no items in battle (held items ok) + i am like 30 levels underleveled on all of my guys. partially for my own amusement and pride, partially to spite people who talk about how much you "have to" grind in johto games

it took a few attempts since my strategy relies on some decent luck to happen but there's a few ways it could go and i could succeed! and it really didn't take that long!! explanation below the cut for anyone who wants to nerd about this with me

red leads with his pikachu, i lead with meganium. EQ isn't quite a one shot and i have to reset if he lands charm on me, but sometimes he chooses thunder and sometimes charm misses so it's not that bad. i just spam EQ and let him waste his full restores until pikachu goes down

next he sends out venusaur, and i set up light screen and then spam body slam until it paralyzes, which happens most of the time since i resist all his grass moves + am behind a light screen and i get a lot of chances for that 30% paralysis as a result

i let meganium go down for the clean swap into houndoom, who is able to take the venusaur out with one flamethrower after meganium chipped it a bunch (she outspeeds because the venusaur is paralyzed!!)

he sends out his blastoise next, depending on the state of light screen, sunny day from his venusaur, etc, i choose to go into politoed to resist surf or snorlax who can weather hits in general and stall the blastoise out. in my winning attempt i went to politoed, and land a hypnosis after missing it once, so now politoed is low

this is the one part that's particularly RNG heavy - i swap into magneton and use thunder twice for the KO. this requires blastoise to stay asleep long enough for thunder's shitty accuracy to actually land twice. i do have a quick claw which boosts the odds of it going well just a little bit. in this case it works out

red sends out espeon so i swap into houndoom, hopefully on a baited psychic but unfortunately he goes for reflect instead. my houndoom just barely misses out on the 2 shot and goes down to some swifts even from full HP smh. so i have to send out my snorlax who can take one psychic and take espeon's last remaining bits of HP with a body slam

now for the fun part. red sends out his snorlax. who for some reason only has normal attacking moves, snore and body slam. so i send out the gengar i trained up for catching the roamers (technically he is literally the only pokemon i ever grinded levels on in my entire playthrough because i decided i wanted him last minute and had already fought every trainer in the game, but it wasn't that bad + he's nearly 40 levels under red's team still lmfao) and well. since snorlax took a ton of unexpected damage from psychic, i first do some very careful slow ass switching to get him back to full HP... with leftovers recovery. and then once that's done i use curse with gengar

in a perfect world, i use hypnosis after curse, it lands, and his snorlax just stays asleep through all the curse damage, but unfortunately he wakes up and uses rest - this puts him in a cycle where if i'm just sitting there with gengar, he'll never die from curse damage since he rests on the turn he would faint from the damage and wakes up and uses rest again in a loop like that. SO to get him to faint from curse without having to literally PP stall him, on his second turn of rest i swap into politoed who is on low HP (this is safe because he's never going to choose a normal type attack against gengar), which baits body slam on his wake-up turn instead of using rest again, and then swap into gengar immediately to be immune to the body slam. gengar outspeeds and uses psychic to take out the singular HP point remaining

and at last all that's left is his charizard. i let gengar go down and swap into snorlax who's now at full HP again and use toxic, and now it's just a matter of a very iffy toxic stall. magneton and politoed being alive in the back means i can swap to them as sacrifices if i need a little more leftovers recovery, and in the end charizard goes down to toxic damage after rest + sleep talking him (in gen 2, if rest is called by sleep talk, even though the user is already asleep, they use rest again which resets the sleep counter and heals them again so yeah)

i'm unreasonably proud of this bullshit LMAO fuck level grinding man this is way more entertaining

[materassassino]

🐅💛🕊🗡✨️ for both luke and din

Oh, you spoil me!

Luke // Din

Characterisation: when he's tired or stressed his accent slips. Get him tired enough and he'll sound fresh off Tatooine and come out with something so hick, so desert rat, you'll do a double take.

Can hold his liquour like nobody's business. Don't believe the propaganda that this boy only drinks milk, he comes from Bumfuck Nowhere where the only things for teens to do are shoot womp rats, race speeder bikes and drink, and the Rebellion made it worse because you know those X-Wing pilots party hard.

Can cook, but as a means to survive. He can handle two recipes really well but the rest is just stews and soups because it's hard to get those wrong and they last for ages. However, he's pretty adept at following a recipe and when he does it comes out decent.

Is terrified of the day he'll be asked to choose between his family and the galaxy again, but refuses to even consider the possibility.

Has officially dropped the aloof Jedi facade almost entirely unless it's necessary for something mission-related. It was, he realised, an externalisation of his trauma, and thus he recognises its disappearance as him healing.

Doesn't have any hobbies at all. There was little encouragement of them in the covert, and now he's in his late thirties with a surprising amount of downtime and doesn't actually know how to fill it. Luke encourages him to try new things so he's seeing what sticks at the moment. He's found he actually enjoys overseeing the work to rebuild Mandalore, and he enjoys reading more than he thought he would.

Better cook than Luke, by a long shot. Handles the meals.

Has no actual idea what he looks like in the sense that he doesn't entirely comprehend what he looks like to others. Is he handsome? Is he ugly? Is he average? He genuinely has no idea what others make of him because he's only been seen by like four living adult people and one of them he's literally married to.

Familial relationships: Obviously very close to Leia. They were best friends before, but now there's just added depth, a rock-steady certainty that they will always, always have each other's back. Obi-Wan told him Leia was younger and he's vowed to never, ever tell her.

Tries very hard to both treat Grogu as impartially as possible as his master, but ultimately fails because Grogu is his son. Definitely less of a soft touch than Din, however. He will tell Grogu off if needed.

The closest thing he has to family outside Grogu and Luke is the covert, and that is now a fraught relationship, but the societal norms of the Children of the Watch don't lend themselves to building the deepest relationships. Considers the Armourer as close as realistically possible to a mother figure, consider Paz a brother, in a way, but there's no great depth there, and eventually he realises he feels more of a familial feeling towards Bo-Katan than Paz or the Armourer anymore. He's adrift, in that sense, and it's actually a relief that Luke's side accepts him so openly and generally easily. It's much easier to view Leia as a sister than it ever was to view Paz as a brother.

Platonic relationships: Is friends with all his exes: Han, Lando, Wedge... As for enemies, he does try not to hold grudges, but man he just fucking hates Boba Fett. Poor Din, caught in the middle! Also supremely good at making friends with whoever he meets.

Din's platonic relationships have all been developed extremely recently: Boba, Peli, Fennec, Cobb, Bo-Katan... he's still trying to navigate the concept of having friends. It's weird?

I have no fighting style headcanons for either of them. Just watch canon content? Luke is a powerhouse, Din is supremely competent and prone to head trauma.

Worldbuilding: the rebuilt Jedi Temple is on Mandalore, designed by Luke and built by the New Jedi Order. Eventually they discover a wellspring of the Living Waters on the surface, and they build a garden around it. Neither will live to see Mandalore become green again, but Grogu does.

headcanon ask game

[ohbo-ohno]

Obessed with the idea where you’re just really damn fast in the ghoap serial killer AU.

So Simon and Johnny let you go thinking it’d be a fun little game for them, except— much to their shock— you make them work for it. (Maybe you’re muzzled during this so that you don’t try to scream and attract attention from anyone nearby?)

Just imagining Johnny being giddy with excitement and Simon cocking his head ever so slightly as they watch you disappear into the forest. They’d take off after you, feet thundering against the ground and echoing throughout the forest— and somehow, you seem to speed up even more.

Feel like you would have the advantage of being lighter than Simon and Johnny, letting you gain more momentum, enough to prevent them from capturing momentarily; but I also feel like they’d have shitloads of stamina and their military training to boot.

So maybe in the beginning they take it easy, perhaps underestimating you— something they make sure to not do next time— and just yelling out to you in the forest. Johnny would taunt you with a big shit-eating grin on his face and Simon would say the most ominous shit that would internally freak you the fuck out.

The start to get worried when they notice some smoke and realise some campers or something are nearby.

You notice the same time they do and you take off with them hot on your heels. (Knowing that Death in the form of two men are following close behind you, that these people will likely die because of your choice— knowing and choosing to anyway, praying that they’ll be enough to distract Simon and Johnny long enough so that you can escape.)

Your start to hear sounds, and something stirs in you; but before you can make it another step you’re slammed into the ground and the air is forced out of you. Maybe you’re dazed and can’t focus on anything but breathing at the moment- you don’t even notice when you’re picked up or being moved, can only scream in frustration later when Simon and Johnny have chained you up as punishment.

(Simon ends up putting a leather shock collar on you next time they play so that you don’t get to far— unbeknownst to you of course. You just think that they’re fucking insane and logically, in your brain, said territory just comes with weird kinks on top of that.)

🍋 Anon

Lemon you’re my soulmate

I’m always so torn on how much of a Character to make a reader insert, because I don’t want to actually make an OC. I never describe readers in my WIPS either (so anyone can read them - please let me know if I ever use descriptive words and I’ll cut them out) past having them be AFAB and fem presenting, but the temptation to give them a decently unique background is sooo strong.

I love love love the idea of the Serial Killer AU!Reader being from like, rural southern America (like me lol) and having grown up chasing friends through the forest, so this whole “playing tag with a serial killer” thing ends up being just That taken to its most extreme version. She’s a little bit feral, she’s run barefoot through the woods before, she can do this

The scenario you wrote with the campers has my heart pounding. I could see that going one of two ways

(a) You make it to the campsite. As soon as you spot the smoke you’re off like a shot, and because you’re closer to the campers than Ghost and Soap, you get there first. The poor campers are having a lovely night toasting marshmallows and bam - a naked, muzzled, and filthy woman bursts into the clearing like her ass is on fire.

You try to rush them out - don’t worry about the muzzle you have to fucking go they’re literally right behind you - but they’re not listening, crowding around you instead and prying at the muzzle, at your sluggishly bleeding cuts (from the bushes you’d skimmed). They’re weirdly touchy, and you end up desperately shoving their hands away and near screaming through the muzzle to be heard.

The first one is shot through the head. One second he’s panicking and telling his friends to get away from you, the next his head is just gone - just an explosion of red and brains from a shotgun blast. That gets the others screaming, gets them dashing away from you. But you know it’s too late, can only fall to your knees and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes that it’s over soon.

You only stay like that for a moment, their screams already fading a little with your disassociation, when a rough hand grabs a chunk of your hair and yanks back. Your eyes fly open, and Simon rumbles in your ear, “No, look. Look at what he’s doing to them. Look at what you’ve done to them.” You thrash a little, throwing yourself this way and that to try and get away but Simon’s grip doesn’t loosen at all, and you don’t want him to tear chunks of your hair out. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the axe Johnny raises high above his head and the screaming girl beneath him, only to feel a heavy smack against your cheek. Simon snarls, his anger radiating through every word. “No. You fucking look. This is your fault, these people wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t fucked everything up. You’re going to watch them suffer, and then you’re going to dig their graves.”

And you do. You watch Johnny decapitate the girl, watch him guy another person and force their head down to see it, watch him strangle a third, bash a fourths head in with a rock. The dirt is more red than brown by the time he’s done, and you can’t hold back the sobs and pained moans, loud enough to be heard even through the muzzle. Johnny sits with you and the corpses while Simon grabs a shovel, reiterates again and again that these people died because you were a fucking idiot, and the three of you are out until sunrise while you dig a grave for them.

Later, Simon bandages your wrecked hands and Johnny coos over you, kisses your palms and apologizes when you whine at the sting. Simon gives you painkillers, and neither of them make you lift a finger until you’re all healed up

(b) You don’t make it to the campsite. Johnny and Ghost have already got you in their sights, and the half second you pause in surprise before taking off to your gives them enough time to catch up. You run with everything you’re worth, sprinting faster than you ever have before to get there before them and pray to God someone has a gun.

You’re almost there, you could nearly throw out a hand and be seen in the clearing, when you’re tackled to the earth. You go rolling, breath knocked out of you and your back erupting in pain as you’re viciously held to the ground. There’s a hand locked around your throat, and body straddling you, and it takes a minute for you to be able to blink past the pain and see that it’s Johnny.

“What were you gonna do, huh? Gonna go running off and beg for help? No one can fucking help you out here, bonnie. We’d slaughter them - might just do it anyway. That what you want? Huh?”

His teeth are bared, sweat dripping from his face to yours and eyes alight in a sort of primal rage. He flips you onto your stomach, fucks you deep into the dirt right there as you stare at your would-be saviors. You scream, cry, beg, and more, but the muzzle muffles you so you’re not even sure if Johnny can hear you. Your orgasm comes just as the first person’s head is blown to smithereens

Love the inclusion of the shock collar again. I feel like it fits more in this AU than the other one tbh

[vera-deville]

IKEA Shenanigans

01/20/2023 - 01/29/2023

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: There's some cussing, (more from the reader than Katsuki actually)

Gender: AFAB

Notes: So, I was going through fanfic ideas, and I came across one where the Reader's younger sibling gets lost in IKEA, and they need the character's help finding them.

Now, I find this funny (though I don't think I'd ever lose a child, but hey, there's a first time for everything). I tried thinking about which character to write for this one shot, and I ended up choosing Katsuki Bakugou.

This is quite exciting for me, because I've never written for BNHA before, though I drown myself in Bakugou fanfics practically every week-

Anywho, I hope that this is an acceptable entry into the BNHA fanfic realm! Fair warning, Katsuki doesn't do much talking in this, and honestly, there's not even much interaction between the reader and Katsuki.

Now, I did write this keeping the Reader as AFAB, but if you'd like a gender neutral version, please let me know!

Y/N has younger siblings in this one, one being a brother and another being a sister.

Oh, and this was not a request!

In which Katsuki Bakugou helps the Reader to find their younger siblings who have snuck away in IKEA.

If Y/N had a doubloon for every time her younger siblings got lost out in public, despite her keeping an eye on them and telling them to stay close, she'd probably have two or three doubloons, which isn't much, but the fact that it's happened that many times is still rather annoying.

And right now was one of those times. 

Y/N swore that she'd wring their necks the second she could, but the top most priority at the current moment was to find the little gremlins.

Y/N understood their excitement, really. The family had recently moved, and the twins who had previously shared a room, now had their own separate rooms, and they were allowed to decorate their rooms however they'd liked (as long as it stayed within the budget and actually looked decent and relatively put together).

But that didn't mean that they had the free all to disappear the second their older sister, who, mind you, was put in charge of watching over them while their parents were in a different section of the insanely large store, just because they could.

Because of this, Y/N had to find them, wherever they were, before her parents could get wind that she'd lost them.

And so began the great search of two pint sized demon spawn in the middle of IKEA, where they could be anywhere.

But first things first.

Y/N had to figure out where exactly she was.

After briskly walking around (with no help from her lack of sense of direction) for five minutes, Y/N located the map of the floor. Seems she was at the living rooms. Makes sense. There were literal living rooms around her. Probably should have figured that one out faster-

Y/N searched every living room, and somehow got lost in one of the rooms (though she did eventually find her way back to familiar territory), and still no sign of her younger siblings. Next up, she maneuvered her way into the sofa beds section (referencing the map she took a picture of earlier), and funnily enough, she saw a splash of very familiar sandy-blonde nearby. Whipping her head back, she scanned through the people, but couldn't find what she thought she'd seen, so she went back to her original search.

Luckily for Y/N, the sofa beds were not as confusing as the rooms, and searching through the whole section, she still couldn't find the brats.

And just like that, the dining section had been passed, just as the the wall units and media storage, workspace, and kitchen sections has been (with, mind you, still no sign of the two troublemakers).

At this moment, Y/N started panicking more than she had before, because she started thinking that perhaps she'd missed her siblings in one of the previous sections, or perhaps they had somehow evaded her sight and rushed back to one of the said previous sections. She didn't know how much time she had left before her parents came upstairs and found her, alone, without the two tiny human beings she was entrusted with.

God she'd make a terrible parent-

After panicking for what felt like fifteen minutes (when in actuality, it was just four), Y/N stood back up from her crouched position, straightened her back, rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and started walking back to where her search first started. Whether the kids were actually there or not, she did not know, but...it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

And so she passed the kitchens, the media storages, and everything else in between until she once again found herself in the maze of living rooms, and the verge of another panic attack. She crouched down, hugging herself, and quite vocally scolding herself over the fact that her siblings were most probably in the sections that she had not searched yet, which were the bedrooms and children's things.

Too busy cursing herself for her stupidity of having wasted precious time trying to find the twerps, and more importantly, having lost them in the first place, Y/N didn't notice the heavy, but calculated footsteps steadily approaching her (still) crouched figure.

When a hand pressed on her shoulder, Y/N wildly sucker punched whoever it was that dared touch her, and grew nervous when the stranger skillfully grabbed her wrist before the damage could be done.

Locking eyes with the stranger's vermillion ones, Y/N felt her soul leave her body because, as it turned out, it was no stranger that she'd just tried to sucker punch.

No, absolutely not.

It was Katsuki fucking Bakugou.

Her long time crush.

IN IKEA.

If the ground could swallow her up whole, Y/N desperately though it'd be a brilliant time for that to happen.

"The fuck are you doing on the ground?" Asked Bakugou.

Y/N could feel his inquisitive, yet grumpy gaze, and stood up, dusting off whatever dust particles may have gathered on her outfit. "I was just tying my shoelaces. I'm surprised to see you here though. What're you up to?" She applauded herself in her mind for seeming so cool and casual and not a complete mess, completely forgetting her choice of footwear.

Katsuki took note of the ironic buckle shoes Y/N, which had no laces, but didn't make it verbally known, and instead told her that his parents wanted to get some stuff and he had to come along.

As much as Y/N wanted to continue talking to her crush of who knows how long, she did have a very important mission. Love comes only after idiots who get themselves lost. Unfortunately.

"Actually, I'm looking for my younger brother and sister. I've been searching for them for ages, and the twerps still refuse to be found. So, I gotta go find them. See you at school on Monday!" Y/N said as she started making her way back to the bedroom and children's IKEA sections as she still hadn't searched those areas.

"Wait, your siblings wouldn't by any chance be twins around the age of seven, would they?" Katsuki asked.

Surprised, Y/N nodded her head and told him that he was indeed correct.

Without a further explanation, Katsuki told Y/N to follow him, as he skillfully lead her through the crowds of people and the mind-numbing layout (at least in Y/N's opinion) of the store, all the way to the children's IKEA.

And right there, were two children, fighting over who saw first and, therefore, gets to buy the canopy they found.

Y/N facepalmed (slightly startling Katsuki) at the pathetic sight. The idiots could have just bought a canopy each, why the hell were they fighting over one freaking canopy?

Katsuki stayed quiet, and decided to just witness the scene before him when Y/N walked over to her siblings and smacked them both on the back of their heads.

Furious, the children started directing their potential anger at Y/N for showing up out of nowhere and smacking them, only for the eldest to start her own tirade against the young ones. Pretty soon, Katsuki was blessed (not really) with the sight of three siblings, one with a decent age gap between the other two, mind you, arguing with each other about the most random shit.

One was pissed about the other two sneaking away to the other fucking side of the store, one was pissed about getting smacked in the head because apparently they told them that they'd be going to the children's section (and the canopy), and the last one was pissed about (also) get smacked in the head, as well as the canopy, and a stuffed animal (Katsuki didn't know where that one came from), and a bunch of other things.

"Y/N, sweetie, there you kids are!" Yelled a familiar voice.

Immediately, the three siblings morphed into completely different people and greeted their mother and father with the faces (and attitudes) of angels, as if they hadn't been straight up fighting a few seconds ago.

Bakugou couldn't help but wonder if they all had split-personality or something.

"Hey mom! Did you guys get what you needed to get?" Asked Y/N, skillfully taking the canopy away from the twins, who were eyeing it greedily.

"We did. Though it was a hassle finding our way through the place. Did you guys get lost? Your father and I had to ask five different people for directions, can you believe it?" Y/N's mother said. "Oh, and your father being your father, said that he knew exactly where we were, but he only got us more lost than we already were."

Y/N and her siblings laughed at this, and Katsuki felt incredibly weird just standing there, with this family interacting in front of him, completely forgetting his existence. And yet, it was sort of nice seeing Y/N the way she was. It was...domestic in a way.

And right as he was thinking that, they matriarch of the L/N family noticed him, and asked Y/N about him. Katsuki unconsciously straightened his spine, while Y/N introduced him.

"Oh, this is my friend from school! We randomly bumped into each other here while the twins were picking out their canopies, and he was helping us choose some stuff." Replied Y/N, sneaking a threatening glance at the twins to make sure they keep their mouths shut about her lie. The twins obliged.

Now, feeling even more awkward, Katsuki (somehow) pleasantly greeted Y/N's parents, and lied about how his parents were probably looking for him, and he had to get going. Y/N's parents told him it was nice meeting him, before telling their kids that they'd best be going as well, and get their items all checked out.

The twins went along with their parents, and Y/N lingered behind for a bit. Looking at Bakugou, she said in a sweet voice, "It was nice you outside of school. We should totally hang sometime!"

Before Katsuki could tell her that he wasn't going to fucking meet up with her outside of school, since he already saw her dumb face enough in school (that's a lie, he definitely wanted to meet up), Y/N told him one final thing before prancing away, "Tell anyone I lost the two shitheads and your neck will be lacking a head~"

Yup, Y/N was still the same even outside of school.

With a smirk on his face, Katsuki made his way back to where his parents were supposed to be, already awaiting seeing Y/N at school on Monday.

~ Vera Lisle

[stonerwitch]

i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back (i have a lot of regrets about that)

summary: kate can’t leave seth, even if he wants her to.

a/n: this is also available on my ao3 and i would worship the ground you walk on if you commented or gave me a lil kudos over there https://archiveofourown.org/works/51804403

Kate had been driving for a whole day before she slams her foot on the break, angrily sighing and putting the car in reverse. She makes her way back to the motel, thumbs nervously tapping the steering wheel and blood still caked onto her face.

He’s probably not even there anymore, she thinks.

Before she knows it she’s pulling up to their room. The light’s still on, so Kate’s hopeful that he’s still there. She grabs the bag of money Seth rudely shoved into her arms the day before and uses the room key she still had to get inside. Surprisingly, he’s still there. He’s passed out—high as a kite, but he’s there. She locks the door behind her and closes the blinds, sets her bags down on the table and makes her way towards Seth.

Seth. The name sounds bittersweet on her tongue.

Seth. The man who kidnapped her and her family. The man who had a gun pointed at her head, more than once. The man who hijacked her family vacation. The man who protected her from monsters. The man who came back for her and her daddy even though he didn’t need to. The man she ran away with. The man who aggravates her to no end. The man who makes her feel safe and not alone. The man who holds her late at night, whispering words of comfort as she falls asleep.

Kate doesn’t really understand how Seth can be all of those things to her. How can the man who took her hostage be the reason she’s able to sleep at night? She doesn’t like to dwell on that thought, likes to file it away in her mind and do her best to ignore it.

She’s tucking pillows on either side of him, something she started after Seth shot up and almost choked on his own vomit. Once Kate is done, she grabs her bag and walks into the bathroom. She turns the shower to the hottest setting it has and starts to peel off her bloody clothes, which now feel like they’ve grafted to her skin. The shower lasts until the hot water runs out, scrubbing her face until it’s red and the skin is irritated. When she’s done, she decides to forgo her own dirty clothes, instead choosing to steal one of Seths undershirts and putting on a clean pair of underwear. Kate knows he’ll be knocked out for at least a few more hours, so she settles on a chair at the table and flicks through the channels on the tv mindlessly until she finds something decent to watch while she waits for him to wake up.

The first Lord of the Rings movie had just ended and the second one was beginning. It was in Spanish but she’d watched the series enough to know the words well enough in her head. When she hears Seth waking up, she mutes the tv and kneels on the ground in front of the bed where he’s laying, her hand finding its way to his cheek.

Seth smiles when he opens his eyes, thinking he’s hallucinating. When he sees the concern on her face, he realizes he’s not hallucinating at all. Pushing her away, he staggers to the other side of the room and rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Thought you left.”

“I didn’t leave.”

He tilts his head, “You literally drove away.”

“Yeah, I did. After you stupidly gave me your half of the money. And, you know, after you literally walked away from me?”

Seth thinks he might be going insane. “Are you actually here right now? I’m not still high? Or dreaming?”

She’s taking small steps towards him now, her hands balled up into fists like she’s trying with everything she has not to knock him out for being so stupid. Instead, she softly replies, “Yes, I’m really here.”

There’s a pregnant pause, like he’s trying to figure out if he believes her. “Why?”

“You’re all I’ve got, Seth. And maybe it’s fucked up but, I care about you.”

The confusion on his face is evident, because Kate Fuller is too good for a common thief like Seth Gecko. Why the fuck would she come back for someone like him? He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it, but he’s grateful for it. Doesn’t even think he can manage a coherent response. Instead, he pulls her in for a hug, his neck craning down as he settles his face into her neck, breathing in her scent. Strawberries and peaches. He lets himself enjoy the one-sided hug for another moment before he pulls away.

“That is pretty fucked up.” He’s trying to ease the tension, he fucking hates emotional talks, but even he can agree that that was probably one of the dumbest responses he could’ve come up with.

Kate just wordlessly glares at him.

Seth sighs. “Jesus…I’m not good at this.” A beat. “I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t mean what I said back there. I was pissed and I took it out on you. You were in danger because of me, almost died again because of me. I thought you’d be better off.”

“I’m alive because of you. If you weren’t there, I’d be dead.”

“Rafa saved you.”

She sighs, “He’s dead, Seth. Do you really still need to be jealous of him? You’ve saved me other times and you know that. If the danger of being with you scared me that much then I never would’ve asked to come with you.”

“I’m not—”

Kate raises a brow, telling him I know you’re lying without saying a word.

“Christ… Okay, maybe I was. That’s not– that’s not the point. You’ve been put in so much danger since you met me. Doesn’t that bother you? I literally kidnapped you and got your family killed. Why are you even still here?” Seth questions, still in disbelief that an angel such as Kate Fuller even wants to talk to him, let alone have any kind of relationship with him.

“Of course it bothers me. You can’t even begin to understand the weight of this, of how I feel. Like I’m betraying my family. What happened isn’t your fault, I know it would’ve happened whether you took us or not, but I still feel guilty. Still feel like I’m betraying them. And more so I feel insane for finding safety and comfort in the man who took me as a hostage.” Kate can still see the confusion on his face and sighs, dragging him to the bed. She settles herself on his lap and places a gentle hand on each side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eye. “I don’t fully understand it, maybe I never will. But I can’t imagine my life without you and I don’t want to. Maybe that’s just how you know you love someone, but we’re in this together whether you like it or not.”

Seths entire body stiffens, his hands placed firmly on Kates hips. “I don’t–I don’t understand.”

“Seth Gecko, listen to me very closely. I love you. And I know you probably think that’s naive and crazy and I probably have stockholm syndrome and how could I possibly love someone who took me hostage but, I do. I love you. Like, really love you. And whether you admit it to me or not, I know you feel the same.”

A few minutes pass and he finds himself staring at the muted tv in front of them while Kate fiddles with the hem of Seths shirt. He knows he feels the same. He’s known it for months. He also knows he’s a bastard and a bad man and everything Kate shouldn’t love. She’s an angel and he’s an old man who drove away with her. He took her because he wanted her and ended up ruining her life, her family. Her fathers dead and her brothers a blood sucking monster just like Richie. It’s all his fault even though she’s constantly telling him it’s not. But he’s selfish and always has been.

He doesn’t deserve her or her love, but he takes it anyway.

Because that’s just who he is.

He takes and takes and takes.

And Jesus Christ he loves Kate Fuller and doesn’t think there will ever be a time in his life where he doesn’t. So, he swallows what pride he has left and tells her because she deserves to hear it; whether he’s ready to admit it or not.

“I’ve never loved anyone more.” And it’s true. He hasn’t been in many long term relationships, and even though he used to try and convince himself that he loved Vanessa, he didn’t. Not really. Especially not like this. Not like the blooming he feels in his heart when Kate so much as looks at him. With both hands cradling her face, he spills his heart out to the girl in front of him. The girl he loves. He thinks it’s weird to say out loud. Hasn’t said it (and meant it) to anyone but his brother in years. He thinks it’s kinda liberating.

Kates heart skips a beat, her eyes widen and she lets a soft gasp escape her lips. “Really?” Seth nods, pulling her arms to wrap around his neck while he hums in response. “Wow. I must be pretty special, huh?” The brunette smirks at him, teasing.

Seth chuckles at her joke, “You’re somethin’ else, you know that? Yeah, angel, you’re pretty special.”

Kate just fucking beams at him. Pearly whites sparkling in the moonlight that spilled in through the curtains, her dimples making her look absolutely adorable.

They bask in their confessed love for a moment, a pink hue finding a home in Kates cheeks–giddy with happiness. She leans in to whisper, voice filled with nerves. “Does that mean you’ll finally kiss me?”

Seth scoffs, cause what kind of fucking question is that? “Princess, I thought you’d never ask.”

[bluebudgie]

so after i got the information that in the console versions of the pixel remasters you can switch to the OG soundtrack i caved in and with the power of my amassed nintendo gold points got the ff2 pixel remaster yesterday evening. (context: i'm a pixel remaster hater) (but I'm also on my quest to having played every version of this game available)

i've played about an hour so far (just delivered the mithril) and here's my observations:

while i still think the character sprite work is only rivaled by the psp version in ugliness i have to admit overall it looks better than at least the psp version. the battle effects (like magic) look so much better as actual pixel art. environments look pretty. you can actually change the font to look slightly less horrible by choosing the alternative setting in the options. really not as ugly overall as screenshots online make it out to be. i have to admit defeat here. dont understand why they wont let us change the textbox colour tho.

absolutely stupid that they got rid of character portraits in dialogue boxes. "it's supposed to be close to the original release" - bullshit. this version is as close to the original as literally every other remake this game got. plus some optional quality of life so arguably actually further removed from the original than any other version of this game.

the music box in the extras menu won me over. there was minwu walking along a little road whistling little music notes and suddenly gordon stood in the way and got run over and they both fell to the ground. this is the content i'm here for.

in the german translation the king of fynn says he got shot in the butt and that is not what the english translation says at all and it kills the mood bc the man is dying but it amused me so thats a positive point as well

minimap in dungeons feels cheaty as hell but also who the fuck cares, the dungeons in this game aren't spectacular enough to warrant an actual exploration challenge. means i'm glad the stupid map is there.

overall decent version so far and actually playable with the OG soundtrack selected. i think i might end up prefering this version over the psp release. in which case the only thing the psp version has going for itself at this point are the character portraits. but at least it has the best character portraits of all available versions.

edit: wait i forgot something

minwu is white. i mean i knew this before, this wasnt a new shock but i still cannot believe they whitewashed the man to be as white as untoasted toast

so is firion but that transition already happened years ago with dissidia so its less of a shock. still. holy shit square enix leave your brown characters brown please i cant deal with this

[masonscig]

different anon from the 'writer rant' one but it did bring up a topic i find fascinating in fandoms like this re: copaganda and the like. prefacing this by saying that i in no way support cops or think this is a realistic way of portraying them. with that in mind, i feel like there's this common hang up in series like twc where the MC is some sort of law enforcement equivalent - whether its an actual cop or some ancient/medieval/future/alternate universe equivalent - people get frustrated when you aren't able to rebel against that enough. and this isn't just a twc thing either, i've seen the same kind of points made for all kinds of IF games. and like, i get the desire to and how most people would make their OC's decent enough people to recognize that kind of corruption for what it is, but if you're signing on to be a character that by default is in a law enforcement/adjacent position, and has some sense of pride in it, i'm not sure how the author is expected to properly account for that perspective that completely opposes all that.

like, in twc the MC almost always willingly signs on to the force, and even in the 'do it or go to jail' origin they still take pride in being able to help people now despite the circumstances of them joining up - any option to be extraordinarily wary of the agency or cops in general contradicts that unchangeable part of the MC's backstory and identity. and i get your point about mish/ka making an idealistic utopic version of things, but i don't really know what else is to be expected in a series that's effectively set up to be a supernatural crime romance? i don't want to make it sound like the frustrations/concerns are invalid because they're not at all! but i feel like by now the role law enforcement and the like plays in the detective's life is so established people have to suspend some of their beliefs about it to play a series that's always had a pretty pro-law enforcement concept/theme. idk if that makes any sense but thanks for letting me ramble

hey yeah no problem! my inbox is always open for rambling – i love to read it!

i see what you mean and i agree w you to some degree, but also, like i don't think it's a lot to ask of mis/hka to both be critical of c*ps in the story while also allowing the mc to be critical of them too. my criticism is less that this is c*paganda, because yes, any media that humanizes c*ps functions as that, but regardless of that, there should be some level of scrutiny from mis/hka's end.

the point i'm making is that mis/hka could've made ab*se of power an overarching theme connecting humans and supernaturals alike, by leaning into the idea that "c*ps are corrupt, and so is the agency – no matter if you're human or supernatural, any structure meant to protect the people is going to be corrupt because people naturally ab*se power" but she's not doing that. i highly doubt that she's playing the long con.

she's teasing the idea that the mc can have thoughts about hating their job and their position, can be afraid of supernaturals, can be reluctant to join the agency – so, if mc is allowed to do that, then what's the point? is it leading to anything? is the agency corrupt? are the c*ps corrupt? from mis/hka's asks, she insists that the agency are good people (and by default the c*ps too). so then, 'why even give us this road if it's not leading anywhere?' is my question

like regardless of if she wants us to read this as a utopia, it's not. if mc shoots a du mortain, it's just "more paperwork" – don't really spend too much time thinking about the fact that what mc perceives to be is a human was shot by them. just as example. mc can literally choose in b3 to wipe bobby's brain – a c*p actively silencing a journalist (whoa we haven't seen that anywhere have we!). not to mention the like military grade stun volts that agents can just have and use on people. (also the t*rture.) i could go on forever but you get what i mean

again, i really do get what you're trying to say, but saying "this is c*paganda, what do you expect" and shutting down all discussion about expectations of the series isn't really the best way to approach it imo. you can and should examine media past the surface level thought of "this is c*paganda" – yes, we know that. you should counter with, and here's why! and as for what i expect – nuance. i expect a nuanced approach.

[destinygoldenstar]

Skylor Needs A Hug ; So I Finally Read ‘Quest For Lost Powers’ (Commentary Part 5; Fire Fang)

<< Part 4

Two more chapters, and then we can move on to a different story.

THANK FSM.

I thought this one was decent a first... but that fell down the drain REAL QUICK.

Cause yeah, I got a little upset in the last chapter. Spoilers, this one is no different.

Basically, Kai's being a butt. That's the story.

His development throughout the show is basically ignored.

Let's just cut to it.

[“Oh, boy! You’re tough to keep up with,” Skylor said, panting.]

Yeah, good thing, cause otherwise you would have died!

[“Nope. I think it was a booby trap,” she said.]

“Ha! She said ‘trap’.”

[“You must have stepped on a stone that gave way under your weight.”]

It's all the noodles he's been eating the past... month?

Skylor basically called him fat.

[She’s right, he thought. But instead of gratitude, confusion and anger bubbled up inside him.]

So I do like this paragraph. That IS in character for Kai.

I'm still gonna complain about it though cause I'm awful.

Again, he KNOWS he's in the wrong. He KNOWS her being here is good. And yet he STILL CHOOSES to scream at her.

All I gotta say is, WTF?!

[“You didn’t have to try to catch up to me!” he yelled. “You don’t even need to be here.”]

You're basically saying you WANT to die, cause that's what would've happened right there had this gal not saved you.

[“Just stop saving me, okay? I’ll never get my powers back if I don’t do this myself,” Kai replied. “I don’t need you, Skylor!”]

Kailor Divorce.

This is a Kailor Divorce.

[The glare in her eyes faded and was replaced by a flicker of hurt.]

Can I just say that I want to hug Skylor?

She did nothing wrong this whole book. She's been trying to help. And this PRICK is SCREAMING at her. FOR NO REASON.

Skylor Deserved Better.

In the show AND in this book.

She deserved better.

This picture is framed like a toxic married relationship. The husband got home from work drunk on noddles, upset, tells his wife to go get him some wine from the store. She says no, and he lashes out at her.

PS, it’s good art. I’m just mad about the context.

[“Sure, Kai,” Skylor said. “Good luck trying to defeat Fire Fang on your own.” She hopped over the hole in the path and jogged back to the delivery vehicle.]

DAYUM.

She didn't even fight. She didn't even argue. She just went along with it, and up and left him behind.

Skylor, can I hug you please?

[Skylor’s the best, he thought.]

REALLY?! Cause it sure does not sound like you think that!

You literally just told her to f**k off, and you're like 'Yeah I love that woman'.

JERK.

[“Looks too easy,” he said, and as a precaution, he picked up a rock and threw it through the opening.

Whoosh! Flames shot up from the bottom of the entrance way.]

Ah, we've reached the Indiana Jones part of this story.

[“We hail you, Fire Fang! We are your loyal gang!”]

These goons just have the WORST lines, don't they?

[They’re not carrying their torches, Kai thought. So I should be able to get past them.]

Tell that to the MANY enemies you've faced that don't use fire.

Tell that to Kalmaar.

That went well cause he didn't have a torch, right?

OH. RIGHT.

[He felt especially drawn to the snake’s yellow eyes…but forced himself to look away. They’re hypnotic, Kai thought as an idea came to him.]

They are?!

I thought the Hypnobrai were the only Serpentine that had that ability.

[I need to distract him, and then get close enough to steal my power back…. Kai stepped out of the dark tunnel. “Ninjaaaaaaaaaa-go!” he cried.]

😂

THAT'S your plan?

Just charge straight in?!

10/10 distraction there. They don't expect you to just barge in!

[He twirled back and forth, back and forth, and the giant beast began to sway.]

One, that's a weird way to word Spinjitsu. 'back and forth, back and forth'. That sounds like something from Dora the Explorer. Where they repeat the motion twice. Sometimes three times. Cause they think kids are stupid.

Two...

The way that's worded.

Sounds like he's um... DOING IT with the snake.

[He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but he knew he had to try.]

Maybe you should've figured out how to absorb the snake's powers BEFORE YOU BARGED IN.

Braincells? What's that?!

Oh that’s a cool design. Ngl. The picture is cut off though in the top right.

Idk if that’s intentional or what.

[The serpent’s scales became hotter to touch, and Kai could spot the fiery glow growing under them.]

Touching a hot stove. Genius.

Who cares about burn wounds?

[This fire—this fire has nothing to do with me, he thought. It’s not mine anymore. It’s Fire Fang’s. I can’t take it. I need to find it within myself somehow.]

“What a surprise.”

Didn’t they say earlier that ���finding it in yourself’ didn’t work, and that’s why he’s doing this?!

Thanks Ninjago for wasting my time. (I still love you.)

I mean I’m definitely not against that, it’s just the way it’s handled here. Makes the Pyro Viper revenge pretty pointless.

Continued in Part 6 >>

[emotionalwizard]

...Gonna do it for one of my home-crafted blorbos. Self-indulgence below the cut.

I choose Billy Bob AKA "Hawk Stormeye but PLEASE don't call me that. I don't know what my parents were thinking," modern day marksman, trickshooter, show-off, ten-gallon hat cowboy twink.

(Sketch by my lovely boyfriend <3)

1. Massively! I tend to latch onto an idea and seek out a variety of media influences. Billy Bob was cultured from Belbo from the Hobo Hobo Funni Show, Clover from way back when Undertale Yellow was just a demo in 2016 (and a mod for Rivals of Aether), the Hermit mod from Slay the Spire, James Anderson AKA Marshall from the game Outlaws, and the protagonist of the Doom mod High Noon Drifter.

2. Billy Bob's typical genres are action, comedy, and horror oriented. In those, obviously, he excels. In settings where action isn't really a major factor, he'd be a sterling romantic.

3. Politicking. He has quite literally brought his Colt 1911 Single-Action Army revolver and openly carried it into a diplomatic function. When arguments arose, he fired a warning shot. He's a bit low on patience when it comes to that sort of thing.

4. Billy Bob is fortunate enough to exist in the internet era. While he doesn't do a lot of media, he does appreciate a good comedy or cartoon. He'd probably find Adventure Time and such fascinating and own a Garfield mug.

5. As of right now, the main theme of Outlaws, A Teaspoon of Gunpowder from Undertale Yellow, I Tell Ya What! from Hobo Funni Show, Mr. Weebl's Honk, and, slightly less seriously The Frenzied Firearm, G U N (Paper Maper: The Origami Korigami Cover), etc. Highly emotional individual, usually pretty over-the-top chipper. Can and will take a life.

6. N/A

7. Technically speaking, as a second-generation Welsh immigrant, you could claim he was always cosplaying the Man With No Name at all times. He'd probably make a decent Link, though.

8. Yes. It took him a while to realize the full immensities of his love of cowboys.

9. Fix-fic. So much.

10. Last game I played was Dusk, so he'd be right at home.

I actually like to roleplay as him in various games. Most notably, Doom's Hideous Destructor Mod (pair of revolvers and either the double-barrel or the bolt-action rifle and you're good) and Teardown (shotgun, what looks like a revolver, and a hunting rifle, all mapped to the 3 key).

11. I have an entire AU version of him for my boyfriend's magical girl setting. In that setting, his "magical girl transformation" turns him into a lightning-themed cowboy with a six-shooter. Bullets that carry an electric charge, fired from a hard-light six shooter with enough force to blow through an inch of steel sheet and not stop and enough charge to leave any survivors stunned. It's also a whip because that's his signature non-gun weapon and that kind of this is pretty normal for the setting. He's also just straight up fast.

12. N/A, not familiar with it.

13. Mudsdale, Tauros, Herdier. Probably also wants a Rapidash.

14. There's a few options, off the top of my head. Fighter gives him the best ability to fan the hammer, artificer matches up with some of his hobbies, which include smithing and shoeing, and ranger has a homebrew option from Pointy Hat specifically for cowboys.

He'd probably want to play a ranger or rogue. Something dex-based. High Charisma.

Or bard. And he'd sing at the table.

15. Depends on what you mean by "standard slasher movie." He's not exactly the type of character to get "final girl" status, so if the main metric of survival is authorial bias and I'm not writing it, he'd probably get screwed by the author for being bisexual, promiscuous, and trigger-happy.

If "standard slasher movie" just means "He's been chucked into Dead By Daylight, but the Entity forgot to frisk him for weapons," then he's going big game hunting.

Michael Myers was temporarily knocked out from a full cylinder dump from a S&W Model 15 .38 Special, followed by a fall from the second floor, and that was scattered shots across his upper torso. Sure, he's tough, but a bear can generally survive the same encounter just fine. No bear is surviving 5 consecutive headshots from a Winchester .308.

16. Drop-in uncle for the younger characters. Token white guy.

17. Banjo & Kazooie and the Duck Hunt Duo. He may also like Zero Suit Samus.

18. Strikes me as a Donkey Kong main.

19. Horrifyingly hard to kill red shirt.

20. Charmer and hitter.

21. He's absolutely the type of revenant that crawls out of Hell after holding up the Devil... and immediately goes back to living it up on Earth.

22. Firebender, if he has to be a bender. He strikes me as the type who wouldn't HAVE bending, but would make up for it in other ways.

23. Step one is to make sure his guns can still be maintained and utilized somehow. If magic exists that renders ammo a non-issue, he's going to over the moon to be the first known Gun Wizard. After that, he'll likely go looking for ways to return home while making sure not to hand out his name. "That's how the aos si getcha, 'ccordin' to mah pa!"

Probably not all that noticeable in the grand scheme of things. Just another adventurer with a somewhat unusual weapon.

24. Trick question! If played by a human actor, we're getting a full Tim Curry "I Am Also a Muppet" experience or they don't get the role. Otherwise, VERY Muppet.

25. It's a bullseye. A gun might send the wrong message, and it would be vetoed by the censors.

26. If he's singing in a musical and it isn't something written by Johnny Cash, then something it probably wrong. That said, whatever it is, he's EXTREMELY into it.

27. God, it's hard to choose, but I'll have to say he's the red herring. "The Best Gunslinger This Side of the Mississippi" with a known hair-trigger temper and open-carry license in the same building as someone with gunshot wounds? Seems too likely to be false.

28. Lemme fetch a generator... "Blazeheart," I guess? Definitely the type of cat to mooch off humans and scare gators off your porch.

29. Well, normally, he'd crack a joke and say that he'd be a human in any universe, and a beast-tamer all the same, wink wink nudge nudge, but if he HAS to give a real answer in the next five seconds or lose his brain privileges, he's a squirrel.

Pop Culture and Fandom-Themed OC Questions

I came up with some pop culture-y OC questions because I like silly OC games. Some of these are more general, while others are for a specific genre or piece of media. Go ahead and reblog to use for your own OCs!

Was your OC influenced or inspired by any particular fictional character(s) when you made them?

What genre (not counting the one they’re in) would your OC thrive in?

What genre would your OC do badly in but it would be hilarious or interesting to watch?

What media does your character enjoy? (For characters in settings that aren’t modern Earth, could be media from their home setting or what they’d like in a modern Earth AU)

What song(s) do you associate with your OC?

Alternatively, do you have any OCs you associate with the song(s) I just sent you?

If your OC had to cosplay as a fictional character, who would they choose?

Has your OC ever had a crush on a fictional (to them) character?

If your OC wrote fanfiction (or if they already do), what type? (fix fic, ship, crossovers, AUs, smut, etc.)

How would your OC do in the last book/movie/tv show/game/etc. you read/watched/played?

If your OC was a superhero, what would they be like? (powers, title, general vibe, etc.)

What animal would your OC have as their His Dark Materials daemon?

What Pokémon would be on your OC’s team and/or what would be their preferred type?

If your OC was a Dungeons and Dragons character, what would their class be? And/or: If they were playing D&D, what kind of character might they play? (these aren’t necessarily the same thing)

How well would your OC do in a standard slasher movie?

What stock character would your OC be stuck as in a sitcom?

Who would your OC main in Super Smash Bros?

Who would your OC play in Mario Kart?

If your OC was in Star Trek’s Starfleet, what would be their role/position? Or, if that doesn’t really fit your OC: why would they get kicked out of Starfleet?

What role would your OC play in a heist story?

What kind of classic horror monster (vampire, werewolf, alien, etc.) would your OC be?

What type of Avatar The Last Airbender-type bender (or non-bender) would your OC be? Any bending specialties?

Your OC gets isekai’d to a bog-standard fantasy world. What does your OC do and how badly does it go for that world?

In the Muppet version of your story, is this particular OC a Muppet or the one human?

What would be your OC’s My Little Pony cutie mark?

Your OC is stuck in a musical episode. What song(s) do they sing? (And how thrilled or annoyed are they about being stuck in a musical?)

In a murder mystery, what role would your OC play? (e.g. detective, sidekick, wacky suspect, rival investigator who gets in thew way, red herring, true culprit)

What is your OC’s Warrior Cats name?

Gun to their head, what is your OC’s fursona?

[crystalelemental]

Engage, day 4.  Not as much to update, but you know.

I want to put this out there: I am an idiot who should not be allowed to do things. I like clearing everything that pops up, but doing the side battles absolutely over-leveled me for future chapters.  I beat the shit out of Hortensia, it was not a challenge.  Chloe could've soloed that map if she wanted.  She almost did.  I had to actively back her out of just annihilating Hortensia like it was nothing.  The side maps are...honestly the biggest challenges, though admittedly the one with the fog of war shit was the worst.  There were a lot of enemies, and I had a metric ton of issues with that map.  It absolutely broke me.  I used the Time Crystal.  I don't even care.  I hate Fog of War, man.

But I'm also an idiot because I kept using my mains for it, instead of the backup units like Boucheron and Clanne, and now they're way behind and I don't know if they can reasonably catch up.  I need to try.  But I feel dumb for letting it reach this point.  Ugh.  Once everyone starts hitting level 20, that'll be a good time to just leave them there, and work on the backup units.  I like getting like...all the supports in the first runthrough.  I like to know what everyone's like.

But as a preliminary assessment, it's already become difficult to choose a team. I'm on Chapter 8.  Chloe is MVP of this army, she is literally untouchable.  Solid defenses, fantastic speed, solid offensive presence, Sigurd ring for complete map control and Canter, just an absolute wrecking ball of a unit.  Celine is second best, but I'm ready for a slight drop-off.  Celine has been carried, in part, by Celica's ring.  Warp Ragnarok is obscene.  But, as I'm learning, Celine is also the only reasonable option for it.  I have it now on Cittrine, who is...super physically frail, so she gets annihilated really easily when she warps, and her speed is atrocious when Thunder is equipped, so she...really needs to be careful or she just dies.  Celine has none of these issues. I think she hit 10 defense, and is almost as fast as Chloe.  Celine just wins.  Third best is Framme, though she's gunning for second.   She's gotten so many strong levels that the only other unit who can beat her in Arena battles is Chloe.  She's bulky, decently strong, absolutely insane with Micaiah's Shine active, and just a delight overall.  These three are the backbone of the team.

"What about Alear?"  Yeah, not gonna lie, Alear's been fairly strength screwed. Not badly enough that she can't manage, but I think it's worth noting that 11 strength at level 13 isn't exactly great.  I also wanted to use Etie a bit, but no one has had worse level luck than her.  It's bad, guys.  It's real bad.  Barring the Marth situation, I think Lapis is just outright better than Alear.  Less bulky, but just as strong and fast with more room to grow.  Alcryst has also taken over as main archer.  He's, uh...he's really good, actually.  The other big name right now is Anna.  I adore that she's an axe fighter, and I kinda love kid Anna being adorable and also a goon.  Early access to Hammer and Poleaxe has also made her a really, really good generalist.  I just wish she wasn't so...the way she is. Her strength is just slightly too low to one-shot most cavs, her speed isn't fantastic, these weapons come with lower accuracy so she sometimes misses at critical moments, and her luck is really low so she gets crit, which is usually death.  It's a lot of problems to have.  I don't think this girl would survive Hard mode.

While I do like Alfred, he's just so far behind Chloe, and is more a tank than a well-rounded unit.  And I do mean in the physical sense.  He's Horse Louis.  Res is bad, he hasn't gotten the best speed growth, but he is bulky.  Which is good, he'll make a nice backup option.  And eventually Chloe will cap Sigurd's ring at rank 10, and it'll be his time to shine.

As for units I don't like...Boucheron isn't doing much.  Clanne was incredible right up until Celine arrived and took everything from him.  I don't really like Jean, and his growths have been sad for a high-growth unit.  I'm not really keen on Jagen characters, so Vander isn't doing much either.  I feel like I'm forgetting someone, so if I did, they're in this bucket too.

By tactics...I kinda like these new bigger weapon options.  They can smack a unit back one space and potentially into hazards, but they result in the foe attacking first, even on your turn.  It's a really cool idea, I just don't know how much it's going to matter.  I've also officially started using the guard effect on Framme and Jean.  Framme's new-found bulk means she's blocking a metric ton of damage for the team, and it's frankly hilarious.  I talked about that whole fog of war issue?  Yeah, this was a solution.  Block all damage from everything except one ally.   Completely stall out the enemy's movements and set them up for a KO next turn.  It's great.

The rings are...interesting.  I'm going to be honest, I think they're a ton of fun, but also hysterically overkill.  Sigurd grants +5 range.  +5!   Chloe, a flier who cannot be stopped by terrain, covers a map in like two turns.  And then gets Canter for another 2 move after combat.  It's nuts.  Celica's Warp Ragnarok has been a clean one-shot against any foe.  It's devastating in the extreme.  And Micaiah's Great Sacrifice is a beautiful effect that I've seen give Framme a full level, as late as level 14.  Like, that skill is free EXP, man.  If someone's behind, just slap Micaiah on them, turn them into a Staff-based utility bot, and let them farm those levels.  It's so busted.  The only one who doesn't initially seem as busted is Marth, but I assure you, he is.  The evade stacking is unreal, any fast unit effectively becomes untouchable.  Add in a skill that lets you recover to 20% when under 20% HP after battle, and all I'm waiting for is something that gives me survival at 1HP from a single lethal blow, and you're effectively immortal.  It's just so extreme.

But I also think that, for challenge maps anyway, that extreme response is necessary?  All foes move instantly, and you start out surrounded on nearly every challenge map.  This results in needing some really extreme solutions. Warp Ragnarok, while absurd, also becomes necessary sometimes to snipe out an opponent that could be a problem.  Micaiah's Sacrifice becomes a necessary hard reset after a rough round of combat.  Marth's evasion is necessary just to stay alive.  The only one out is Sigurd, who...might be my favorite, because his utility is just perfect for getting where you need to go.   Like, you know those maps where it's like "Oh no!  That enemy thief is so close to that chest, they're going to steal that thing!"  Sigurd ignores the danger and gets you right to them. Even his big attack is more about movement than damage.  I love it.  I love Sigurd's ring so much.

The story's reasonably simple, and if my character talk being focused on combat rather than characterization wasn't much of an indication, they're all pretty straight-forward and simple.  I like it, though.  It's fun in a simple way.  They just have to not do anything too stupid with the ending and I think we'll have a decent experience.

On the whole, I'd say I'm enjoying myself a lot.  This...might even be the rare Fire Emblem game I attempt to clear on Hard once I'm through the game once. My next mission is getting Lyn's ring, so I'm pretty excited about that.  And I met Goldmary!  Who...yeah.  I like her a lot.  Looking forward to that recruitment.

[lisafrnkenstein]

both "eddie munson is sexually experienced and suave and really good in bed and knows what he is doing" and the "eddie munson is a lame dork loser nobody likes and obviously has to be a virgin because there's probably no way he's ever kissed anybody" are both like. fundamentally incorrect with the information we are given about him.

first and foremost: he is coded sexually, if we are interpreting him as queercoded. the hanky code, the handcuffs, those are not just "gay signals," they communicate s&m top. that's a pretty bold (and almost impossible) statement to make for someone who exists pre-internet, if he has no experience. that's not readily available knowledge to someone who is not on the scene and actively picking it up.

BUT we also have to consider: he is very young, still in high school, and socially rejected.

important to note though, examining his behavior, he is not socially awkward. awkwardness to me implies a level of unintentional clashing with social rules, and eddie very specifically seems to clash on purpose. he knows what he's doing and that's why he's doing it. it's part of the "rebel" design of his character; he knows the social rules, and that's why he's able to say "fuck them." that's also why he can pull it off without most people cringing over it, because, speaking as an autistic person, if actually socially awkward people (like autistic ppl) do half of what eddie did, it would instantly cause mockery. but eddie conveys disdain for the rules and social conventions, not unawareness, so he can pull off that behavior in a way that makes the audience like him.

which means reasonably (as we are shown) he would mesh INCREDIBLY well with other people like him. nerds, rejects, outcasts, other metalheads, etc. the kids latch onto him quite a lot for someone who is supposed to be socially awkward, because he isn't. he IS charming and magnetic and inspiring....to a select sub group of people.

part of his queer coding IS his social reject status. which literally means other queer people are likely to connect well with him, because they are also going to be socially rejected. and eddie DOES display a level of aptitude when it suits him (like how easily he made chrissy feel comfortable using the exact same overdramatic "socially awkward" behavior and seemed to know it would work.)

in fact, chrissy actually mentions that she thought he would be "mean and scary," which is based more on assumptions made bc of his associations with metal music and d&d, which is also the basis of the cafeteria monolgue; he wasn't seen as a freak for his "dork" behaviors or for being a nerd, like more modern d&d players might. the theme of the season was the satanic panic, and eddie's social reject status was based on everything about him being demonized as evil, not socially awkward. in fact if you observe, he consistently shows very nice and even gentlemanly behaviors, meaning that everyone who percieves him the way they do does it bc of stereotypes and associations, not out of observing his behavior.

the point I'm trying to get at: in a little rural town like hawkins, liklihood is he doesn't have a lot of opportunity or even a decent enough pool of people to choose from; but also he is implied to have some level of sexual experience. i would posit, then, that he has only a little bit, probably just hookups (bc of the nature of flagging,) due to things like the constraints of his age and location. he wouldn't have had much of a shot before becoming an adult because high schoolers were afraid or wary of him, but outside of school where he wouldn't carry that reputation, there would be no reason why he wouldn't succeed.

eddie probably has a level of charm and natural draw and talent that would work pretty effectively on the right people (but not most,) but probably not enough practical experience to actually be knowledgeable.

and i would very easily say its likely he has no romantic experience and probably has never dated before.

but like. the two ends of the spectrum on this take are both easily contradicted by actual canon evidence, so they're getting to be fairly annoying interpretations. he is neither a smooth sex king nor an awkward virgin.

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

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[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

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MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.