#nobody tell bam

[fulfillingbineeds]

this is so stupid lmaoooo- shower thoughts come to life.

[canonically47]

funny how last season i looked at izzy stans and went “how the fuck?” and now i feel like in this god-forsaken fandom they are the only ones who actually understand my takes XD

[eddieisinlove]

hear me out, we joke about the 118 having bets on when buddie is getting together, mainly hen, chimney, bobby + extended family. but what if b-shift is in on it. they somehow have a whiteboard at the firehouse. a-shift writes normal memos on it. as soon as they all leave, someone dramatically flips it and bam! there's a whole detailed timeline trying to figure out what buck and eddie are to each other, red string and everything. there's multiple theories, some right, some wrong. at the start of each shift they brainstorm. ravi has the task of arriving early to see if buck and eddie leave together or not. someone knows lena bosko and they call her for details. she tells them about the grocery store fight. they move up the divorced theory on the board. at the end of the shift they flip it back around and nobody ever notices even though there's obviously red string hanging from the bottom.

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[habken]

Can you please tell me about your Fusion Au? It sounds awesome, and I want to know more about it!

sure!! :D There's a few versions of it, but the one I think about the most, they fuse like right before the entrance exam for ua. They were both individually making their way to UA and got caught up in the same villain attack, and in the chaos of it all, someone used their quirk on them and bam, fusion.

Because of the mayhem, they didn't actually see who hit them and nobody stopped to be like "oh heyyy sorry about that whoopsie daisies" so the newly formed fusion just has to figure out how to exist ?? and then also take an exam and battle giant robots? (they still save uraraka which is where the bakugou half finds out about ofa) I haven't pondered much on the logistics of how the exam would work identity-wise, I assume they take it under one of their names (probably bakugou) and get it sorted out later with nezu

Anyways time passes, it doesn't seem like it's going to wear off or whatever so "Katzuku" just has to work under the assumption it's permanent. So he starts his time at ua as two nerds in a trenchcoat!

In terms of who's in control or whatever, it's an amalgamation of them, not two people operating one body, but their thoughts and actions get disjointed the less the two agree with each other. It's very rocky at the start because of the animosity between them (even if it's one sided), they just have so many conflicting thoughts and emotions that it's hard to stay in sync. So it really does feel almost like "mom said it's my turn to pilot the body" in the beginning when the fusion is still figuring itself out, but as they learn to accept the two parts of them more, things start to sync up more.

I also like think the two still exist individually somewhere up there, almost similar to the ofa vestiges lol. So when they dream, they see each other

[zerosuitsammi3]

So this happened today...

A customer comes in she was asking about a particular kind of account so I told her what kind of things she needs to do to get that process started. And she tells me that she wants to start a business and she says she wants to start a gym for women only because she works out a lot and she finds that a lot of women feel uncomfortable in gym spaces because of the way some men act which is really fair because i have experienced how men behave and what theyve done and said to me but i start to worry about what kind of place she's going to take this to. And then bam, she says "but do you think that the l-b-g-t's would get mad like cause I don't want nobody to say I'm discriminating. Like I only want real women there cause like them transgenders be doing all this stuff and who knows what's going on down there. But they're not like real women. Like what do you think? Cause them l-b-g-t's can get you shut down fast." And I just avoided that shit like "oh I dunno that's super complicated and I wouldn't know anything about that" because i don't want to become the outlet for her hate and then directed it back toward stuff she initially came in for. I was internally screaming like oh my god you just told a trans woman to her face that she's not a real woman and you don't even know that you're talking to a trans woman plus you got the acronym wrong more than once it's lgbt girl. But she wants to come back and only work with me exclusively because she really likes working with me😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Trans women - 1

"We can always tell" crowd - 0

[gilverrwrites]

Meet Cute Uglies [Bruce]

AN: Shout out to @luckyarchaeologist whose comments inspired me to go a completely different direction to what I had envisioned.🩷 And everyone else who reblogged/comments/voted for a part 2! I hope it lives up 🩷

GN!Reader/Bruce Wayne, 1.6K Words [2/?]

Part One >[Here]<

CWs: Mild/nonexplicit threats of violence, teasing

His hands are soft, and warm, soothing the tension from your body as he uses them to cup your face and hold you steady as he pushes closer, pressing your body deeper into the wall with his broad chest. Up close you can see a smattering of his five o’clock stubble coming through, even under the dim slivers of moonlight breaking through the gloomy alley. You note a hint of coffee on his breath before his lips brush against-

Loud banging at your apartment door startles you awake. Tired eyes sluggishly take in the time on the nearest clock, you’re barely able to process the numbers before the knocks come again. It’s too early. It’s your day of for goodness’ sake and it sounds like someone is trying to break down your door with their fists. When you answer it’s an equally disgruntled delivery driver. They ask your name before bombarding you with a large box and snapping a proof of delivery photo. You ponder your unkempt morning appearance and pray the sender of this parcel doesn’t ever check that photo.

It was almost certainly not from you because you hadn’t ordered anything, especially not anything this big. You don’t recognise the logo, but it, the matte black tape, and the distinct florally smell permeating from the smooth white container tells you that whatever is inside is expensive. That or it’s a trap, designed to lure you in with its unsuspecting exterior, then BAM Ivy toxin or Joker gas. You’re not dumb, you’ve seen the PSAs.

30 minutes, one morning brew, one disposable mask, one sharp knife, 2 gloves, and a whole lot of nerve later you gently remove the contents from its packaging. It’s wrapped in a layer of security card and glittery tissue paper but it’s pretty evident what it is. It’s a very nice bouquet of flowers. A mix of carnations, hyacinths, and baby’s-breath, already sitting in a pretty crystal vase that probably cost more than your rent.  A gold envelope stands out amongst the colourful petals, and you fork it out to read despite being certain you already know who it's from. Nobody else in your life would spend this much money on flowers for you, even if it were a special occasion. The repercussions of telling your name to a stranger, even a famous stranger, who you’d known of all your life, but never known hadn’t occurred to you until you see it printed in foil against the high-quality textured card.

“As you understandably didn’t allow me the chance to apologise last night, please accept these as a token of my penitence. Regards, B.W.”

You’re not sure which irks you most, him cornering you in a dark alley in the first place, his seeking you out to apologise in an unsettlingly short amount of time, the absurd display of wealth, his pretentiously unironic use of the word ‘Penitence’, or the fact that you kinda liked it. The fact that you’d spend the night dreaming about slivers of moonlight and soft hands that didn’t exist. In actual fact, the remainder of the scene had been clumsy and anticlimactic.

“Who are you?” He demands. “And why are you following me?” You squint to read his expressions, barely able to make him out under the faint light of apartment windows high above your figures. There's a disconnect between the upper and lower halves of his face that adds to your already heightened nerves. His jaw and lips remain in an ever-present scowl, but steely blue eyes seem to soften as you tell him your name. “I'm not following you.” Your voice is stunted, weak due to the unrelenting pressure actual billionaire Bruce Wayne is applying to it. “I swear! It’s a coincidence.” He seems to believe you, or at least, he doesn’t consider you much of a threat because his grip loosens enough for you to find your footing again. Before he can change his mind, you scramble out of there, almost tripping on your accidentally discarded bag on the way. Whatever is up with him is not your problem. “I-“ “Save it.” Creep. You’re not interested in his apologies or excuses. You’re just an average person trying to make their way in the crime capital of the world, probably. It’s a miracle he didn’t put you in an early grave due to a heart attack. You could see the headlines now: ‘Playboy Billionaire Charged with Manslaughter: Officials unsure why he corned innocent Gothamite’ which is to presume a man with as much wealth as Bruce Wayne would ever be charged with a crime. Rich, ill-mannered, paranoid, handsome, creep. “Just stay away from me.”

As you stand motionless, relaying the events of the previous night in your head, it occurs to you that there's still something in the envelope, something slightly smaller and thicker than the apology card. You slip it out and flip it between your fingers, a gift card to the coffee shop you’d first seen him in, with a pre-paid value high enough to keep you and all your colleagues caffeinated for the rest of the year, if not longer.

The remainder of your day is spent relocating the two gifts between errands and relaxation time. The gift card is inserted and removed from the card section of your wallet so many times you’ve probably incidentally rubbed off its magnetic strip. Accepting it, and using it wasn’t bad, not really. He wasn’t buying you or your forgiveness it's just a show good intent, not to mention it was basically pocket change to a man with that much money.

But it did feel a little bit like being bought.

And the flowers reminded you of that conflict every time you looked at them, so they made their way onto every feasible surface and counter until you found a spot with enough light to keep them alive that wasn’t in plain sight 90% of the time. Maybe you could sell or donate the vase once the flowers are dead. It really did make the rest of your living space look shabby-er in comparison.  Or maybe you could paint it to match the rest of its new home, cover it in acrylic paint and use it to hold anything else. If you ever see Bruce again you could show him a photo, see if he really did give it in good faith to be used however you pleased, or if it makes him uncomfortable.

In fact, on your next day back at work you’re scrolling through Pinterest for design inspiration as you queue up for the first of many Wayne-funded drinks when you sense it. Him. The enticing scent of his cologne clueing you into his presence. You cast a look over your shoulder and there he is, smiling at you with perfect white teeth. He seems more casual today, his hair still perfectly styled but appearing free of any products, his suit traded in for just the slacks and button-up. Once again, you’re reminded of his player image, it’s not hard to tell why so many people swoon all over him.

“Oh, hello.” He greets, raising his hand as though to wave at you. His fingers don’t look nearly as soft as you’d imagined. They look sturdy and calloused, strange for a man who guzzles champagne and stands behind a podium, smiling for photographers more days than not. Paperwork does not account for skin that thick. “I was hoping to run into you here.”

“Really?” Internally you’re suspicious, but your voice comes out an octave higher than usual, your skin growing warm under his gaze. It’s stupid to think that he’s pursuing you, flirting with you. He’s probably just looking for closure on his apology, ensuring you don’t slander his image by selling the story to the papers. He really is buying you. Your silence. “Why?”

“I was hoping I could buy you a drink.” And without your confirmation he sides steps around you, joining you in your spot amongst everybody else waiting to be served.

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You flash him the gift card he’d paid for. “Or did you forget casually dropping this much cash?”

He laughs at that, like you’ve made a joke. He’s deflecting? Maybe. But he sounds so genuine, so hearty it’s contagious. Your laugh isn’t as cheery as his, but it slips past your lips regardless.

“No, no. I didn’t forget. I couldn’t forget anything about you. Especially not after seeing you in that delivery photo.” He finishes with a wink. That was flirting, definitely flirting. Or maybe an insult. Either way, you’re feeling just as nervous, if not more than you had been that night in the alley. This is just a different kind of nerves, it’s the butterflies in your belly instead of the pit in your stomach kind. “What’s one more between new friends, huh?”

“Friends?” You raise your brows. He does not have the decency to look sheepish under your dubious stare, he just looks back at you calm and collected, just like he is on the TV. A few days ago, you might have bought it, but you’ve seen him lose his cool in person. Something feels off.

“I’d like to be friends, or I’d at least like to apologise in person. If you’ll let me.” For a man so bent on making amends with you, there isn’t a hint of sorrow in his tone or posture.

It’s almost your turn at the counter, you have seconds to make your decision.

The barista gestures for the next customer, as you answer. “Okay fine, let’s be friends.”

“Excellent. You just made my day.” And then his hand cups the small of your back as the two of you step up to order. He does it so casually that you almost don’t notice, you’re not sure if you’re just susceptible to his moves, or if he’s practised them to perfection. Maybe you’re reading too much into it, maybe all pretty boy billionaires act like this, maybe it’s all strategy to keep his image clean, or maybe there’s something shady about Bruce Wayne and his weirdly hard, slick hands. Maybe he's hiding something, and whatever it is, you intend to figure it out.

If you should enjoy the view along the way, well, who could blame you?

[petew21-blog]

Fitness coaching, part 2

(a different inbox request 😈) I'll refer to you as kid and combine the stories. Hope you don't mind

Warning: The kid is just a nickname. The person in this story is of age

A high school assembly where Kevij Hjenas talks about his success and motivation

Kevin (or is it Kevin really?):"Hey everyone, today I am here to talk to you about following your passing and lack of motivation. First I gotta tell you how I started. How I wasn't so different from all of you..."

Kid to himself:"Yeah, you got it easy. You had the looks, you had the muscles and no one was beating your ass when you went to high school"

Kevin continuing:"So whenever you feel like giving up, you gotta stand up to that thing and beat it. And the biggest fight there's gonna be is the one that will be in your head"

Kid;"Sure, I wanna be the one in your head. Try being me for a sec while everyone is beating your ass, looking you in the lockers and picking on you for not being good enough."

Kevin:"And if you ever have a problem, don't worry to walk up to adults and ask for help. Most of the adults are willing to help you win your fight"

Kid:"Jesus, Kevin. I admire you and yet you come to school and talk to us about this bullshit? Nobody cares. Of course they don't. They don't want to fill the paperwork, talk to the parents. It's easier not to care. Damn. I wish I could be Kevin Hjenas and him to be me so that he could see what it's like to be a kid in high school again"

BAM

Kid tries to open his eyes, but can't. He can feel... stretched? Around something. He can feel something hard inside of him. He can feel a butt? What is going on?

He tried to scream:"What happened? Where am I?"

Kevin stops his speech as the voice inside of his head now turned more louder, but it sounds different. "Kevin? Go back to being an obedient speedo, would you? I got a presentation to finish."

Kid:"Kevin? What? I am... I am a student. I was just watching Kevin. Why are you calling me Kevin? Where am I? Did you just call me a speedo?"

Suddenly a kid's in the audience gets up from his seat. "I can see again. I can talk! Somebody help me. Someone stole my body." He stares in disbelief at his previous Kevin Hjenas body, or atleast the one who looks like him. "You did that! Give me my body back!"

Teacher:"That's enough of this outburst young man, you'll come with me to the principal."

The other kids lost it and the whole auditorium started laughing. This kid is gonna get beat up today so much more than usually.

(Not) Kevin to Kid as his speedo:"Look kid. Let me finish this and I'll explain. Ok? Just stay silent and I'll fix this. Ok?"

Kevin finishes the presentation and goes to the nearby park

Kevin:"So tell me what did you do before you ended up as my speedo?"

Kid:"I couldn't believe the bullshit you were talking at the assembly. I had the worst time yesterday and I envied you. Your body, your fame. Everything. So I wished to be in Kevin Hjenas body and him to be in mine"

Kevin:"Oh... I see what went wrong"

Kid:"It didn't work, that's what went wrong"

Kevin:"Well technically you are in Kevin's body. Cause... I'm not really Kevin. I'm wearing his body as a speedo and that gives me the ability to look like him. I'm a different person. So the one screaming in your body at the auditorium was the real Kevin in your body"

Kid:"Ok, then change me back to his body then. If you have the power."

Kevin:"It's not that easy... we gotta contact this writer. He writes stories and if you ask he grants you the wish in a form of a story/transformation. He likes to play with his subjects after. But the waiting time is horrible. He works all the time and only writes a few stories a day. So that is the tricky part"

Kid:"So what if we ask him nicely? Maybe if we explain the situation to him, he might understand"

Kevin:"You really are naive, kid. But it's worth a shot. Let's go home. You gotta get used to being a speedo and there is not better time to let you learn like now"

Kevin's dick gets visibly hard

Kid:"Oh, this is strange. But... it feels nice. I can actually feel it"

Kevin:"Just a few benefits of being a piece of clothing. Just wait till you feel me stroke myself or have an orgasm. Oh jesus. How old are you kid?"

Kid:"Don't worry. I'm old enough to feel you cum onto my... fabric?"

Two months later

Author:"Oh hey Kevin. Sorry for the waiting time. You wouldn't believe what kind of wishes all the people have. There was thos guy who wanted to be merged as Hulk and..."

Kevin:"Stop. This can't wait. I need a favour. And so does this kid." Kevin pulls down his shorts and points at his speedo

Author:"Is there something wrong with the real Kevin? You still look like him so what's the issue?"

Kevin:"The issue is, that this isn't Kevin anymore. Some kid from local High school wanted to swap bodies with him and he did. Kevin is now attending school again, while he is stuck embracing my dick as speedo"

Author:"Oh... well. I don't have good news for you boys. Because another spell intervened, I can't really do much about the appearance of Kevin's original body. But... there might be a solution. You may not like it"

Kid:"I don't care, I just want to feel what it's like to be a human again. Atleast for a while"

Kevin:"The kid is on board with whatever plan you got. Depends what it means for me."

Author:"It's quite simple, guys. You might have to learn how to share. You'll both have the ability to control your body, swapping with the speedo. Only one gets to control the human body, while the other rests as speedo"

Kevin:"I'm not giving this up. I worked hard to look like Kevin"

Kid:"You can't do this to me"

Kevin:"Can't you place his soul into something else, please?"

Author:"Wish I could, but both of these spell are now combined and can't be broken. If I take his soul away, you won't look like Kevin anymore. It's either this or full reversal. And let me tell you... Kevin is gonna be really pissed"

Kevin:"Would you be ok with that? Sharing a body like Jekyll and Hyde?"

Kid:"Who's that suppose to be?"

Kevin:"Jesus you kids these days. So... like Moon Knight?"

Kid:"Oh cool. If it means I get to be human and also Kevin, I'm in."

Kevin:"Ok, let's do this..."

Two weeks later, pier beach

Kevin:"You should stop with all these carbs. We'll get fat"

Kid:"Oh shut up. I'm enjoying myself."

Fan:"Hey, Kevin. Could I take a photo with you?"

Kid:"Oh yeah. Right on"

Fan:"Thank you. Could... could I touch your biceps, sir?"

Kid:"Oh of course. Go on. I can't get enough of these things too. They are massive right?"

Fan:"Haha. Yeah. Thank you"

Kevin:"You need to tone it down a bit. People are gonna get suspicious."

Kid:"Oh relax. You'll get your turn soon. I'm just enjoying my part of the day. I still think it's unfair that you get the night. I wanna party and fuck other people too. And not just as a speedo"

Kevin:"You'll have a chance soon. Don't worry"

Who knows if the boys will learn to share

A request from Inbox story set as a second part. Guys, you two might have to learn how to share 😁

Hello today is worst day of school someone just randomly pick on me and the worst is no one at the school cared for me, tomorrow kevin hejnas is coming to our school i just wish i could be him so i could feel what life would be as a famous man.

[kcsplace]

If you think that Maverick hasn't absolutely tried to prove he can still pick Rooster up like he did when he was a little kid, I don't know what to tell you except that you're totally wrong.

Ice makes precisely one comment about how Bradley is now taller than Mav and how he bets Mav can't carry him on his hip anymore and BAM Mav is working towards a hernia or a broken hip or both but he will prove his husband wrong.

It's Rooster that ends up with the bruised hip though nobody is sure how and Mav resolutely doesn't hear Ice's mocking laughter when he has to spend an hour in a cold plunge because he did it and that's all that matters.

[n3ptoonz]

Hi I’m a bit embarrassed to say this lol, that’s why I’m anonymous. Can you please write headcanons for Bi Han, Liu Lang, Geras, Tomas and Raiden with someone who uh, really really likes to suck their cockk 🫣

😳

i sure as hell can anon🫦

Sub-Zero

knowing bi han stubborn ass he's gonna claim it gets in the way whenever you ask more often than not, but as soon as he picks up on your fixation...you can literally do no wrong

most times he takes control, other times the dome is so overwhelmingly good he grunts constantly and gets lightheaded, but don't tell nobody 🤫

you'd be surprised with the amount of praise he gives you. it would even go to point of him noticing differences and similarities between present and past with how skilled you were. leave it up to him to make everything into fighting terms (he doesn't know how to express his emotions give him a moment😹)

Liu Kang

at a loss for words tbh. he knew you loved getting intimate with him but specifically giving him oral caught him off guard. this is only bc he's used to being dominant and making sure your pleasure comes first that he's like woah, you're quite eager there 😲

he wouldn't be one to deny you though. in a way he's still prioritizing your pleasure since you are indeed receiving it from giving him head, and was not one to ever complain!

he's not one to have or show his ego, but damn, the lewd sounds that come from your mouth and the sight of you clearly enjoying yourself does make him feel like the luckiest god there is. to have you all to himself in this portion of his lifetime is the absolute highlight and he'll never forget it

Geras

ik geras isn't some giant monster man but he absolutely has a giant monster co-

you can barely even reach past the middle, and you want to keep doing that? okay, he thinks, by all means do what makes you both happy in the end

secretly worried for your jaws and sometimes your throat. he's gonna keep asking if you're okay and would prob be very confused/concerned if tears started falling from trying to take all of him. you gotta explain it's all part of the process and you enjoy it. he might not ever understand everything about mortals, but he sure loves the pleasure while he learns

Smoke

i 1000% believe that tomas is super sensitive around his dick. like, regular sex is already one thing. but...superb head from you? he MIGHT just die

theoretically speaking you wouldn't be able to pin him down while you suck him off but a girl can dream, let's throw logic out the window real quick. he'd lose his fucking mind and start muttering praises in czech

he does prefer to pleasure you BUT who would he be to say no to you?? he gets bomb head on a regular basis and a hot partner to do it. he wouldn't even have time to ask you for it because you keep telling him you will/you want to. if you really bout it, you'll discover he'd definitely be into getting oral in a secluded public space like the bathroom or training room

Raiden

like i always say, he may come off as a shy cutie (which he is) BUT when that dark side comes out it's over

i feel like he's a switch. so, whenever you ask if you can do a lil vacuum action it always starts the same way, but never ends the same way

it starts with him shyly agreeing letting you do your thing then bam, he either starts pushing your head down more and makes you go at the pace he wants OR you're just too good and make him squirm, buck, whine, and tremble. it's always a gamble but hey, i like these odds, don't you? you two equally go back and forth with pleasuring each other and he even worries he'd get selfish but like who cares mf im tryna hear you 😮‍💨

[ckygetsjobs]

this may be an unpopular opinion but dico in fucking borrowed happiness, like jfc he’s fucking hot as hell idc if people say that bald guys aren’t hot obviously you’ve never seen Brandon Dicamillo

[hobie-enthusiast]

UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, cursing (hobie says bullshit), dramatic tension, high school, hobie being a menace, and reader is fed up with him, or are they

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 1)

— this was originally meant to be one fic then i started writing and bam two maybe three parts. let me know if it’s any good for another part

— part 1 (here) | part 2 | part 3

This was a dangerous game you were playing.

Hobie Brown was a menace. An absolute prick who had no respect for the rules or anything anyone told him. He skipped school constantly, broke every rule set in place, and never did what the staff asked of him.

The complete opposite of you.

You were the model student, you practically had to be. Best grades imaginable, excellent rule follower, and apart of almost every club offered. Nobody could complain about you or what you’ve achieved.

Well, except for Hobie Brown. He’s been messing with you ever since your first encounter, and you honestly were in no interest in playing this game with him.

—

“Mr. Brown, if you can’t keep quiet in this class then I’m going to have to ask you to talk with the principal.”

Hobie rolled his eyes as he propped his shoes on the desk in front of him, hands behind his head. "Sounds be'ter than lis'ening to this borin' lesson."

You find yourself scoffing at Hobie's useless words. Of course he would chose to be difficult on the one day of the week he showed up to school. In your eyes, it would be better for him to miss rather than interupting the lesson for those who just want to pass the class.

Suddenly, the teacher glances in your direction. "[Name], would you mind escorting him to the office?" She asks in a pleading tone. You sigh but give a smile, nodding.

The teacher gives another stern look in Hobie's direction, but he just laughs as he puts his hands up. You walk towards the door and step outside, waiting for the vigilante to join you outside.

Hobie stepped outside, glancing down at you. He says nothing as he begins walking, in the opposite direction of the office.

"Uhm, I know you hardly come here," You start, catching up to him. "But the office is the other way."

"Didya really think I was gonna follow ya?" He questions with a chuckle. When you don't respond, he raises an eyebrow. "Wow, ya did."

You sigh, moving to stand in front of him. "Don't be difficult, Brown. Just go up there and we won't have issues."

"Ain't no need to be so uptigh', sweetheart. Even the class presiden' can 'ave some fun."

You glare as he brushes past you. "One, don't call me sweetheart." You say in a tone. "Second, having fun doesn't include disregarding what teachers tell you to do."

"Sure it does." Hobie says with a shrug, stopping to stare down at you. "Ins'ead of goin' to the office, I can go do whatever I feel like doin'. Much bet'er, don't ya think?"

The way he spoke so casually about breaking the rules infuriated you. Of course you didn't want to be here as much as the next person, but you couldn't imagine just interrupting and walking out like this. You were here to be the best you could possibly be, no distractions. But Hobie Brown was not letting you do that.

"Keep starin' and you might find yourself in a position you don't wanna be in, darlin'." He said, looking back over his shoulder.

Okay, that pissed you off. "Excuse me?"

Hobie rolled his eyes, turning back to you as he made his way to you. His hand lifted your chin, peering down on you. "Ya heard me. Though, maybe ya do wanna bend the rules with me."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know u've had plen'y of time to go back to that bloody boring class."

As much as you wanted to deny his words, he was right. Why haven't you just left him to his own devices? It wasn't that hard to just walk away and let him suffer the consequences.

Why were you still here?

Your silence prompted a smirk from Hobie. "I'll see ya around, sweetheart." He says, turning back around to walk out of the school. You let out a frustrated groan, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at the contact or nickname.

—

Your next encounter with Hobie Brown was in the cafeteria the day after that incident. It was honestly a shock to you he even showed up two days in a row.

You walked along the halls with your good friend, casually chatting as you made it into the lunchroom. Lunch period was such a refreshing time in your mind, a good time to actually talk with people you like. And not deal with a certain someone.

You still couldn't figure out why you were thinking of him so much. Just from the one encounter, he's plagued your thoughts and mind. It was honestly so annoying in your eyes.

You grab a lunch tray, moving to grab a meal prepared for that day. It wasn't the most appetizing food, but it was better than nothing. You paid before stepping out of line to find a seat.

But of course, someone also had to walk in that path at the same time. They bumped right into you, causing you to trip forward and fall almost flat on your face. Or actually, right into the arms of someone who caught you.

You clutch onto the stranger, groaning at your food that was now on the floor. There goes your lunch. You sigh. "Thank you, I'm so sorry I-"

You glance down at the hand, then notice the familiar scent from the previous day. You glance up, seeing none other than Hobie Brown, small smirk on his face at your realization.

You immediately release your hold on him, standing up straight. "Brown." You say coldly and simply, crossing your arms.

He raises his hands. "Alrigh', don't acknowledge that I jus' saved ya from a bloody nose. That's wha' friends are for, huh?"

"We are not friends." You respond, eyes narrowing at him.

"Not with that at'itude we're not."

Glancing around, you suddenly become very aware of how many people are watching the two of you. You groan, hands running on your face before you face him again.

"Thanks, Brown. For catching me." You say with gritted teeth.

He gives that same damn smirk, ruffling your hair. "'s no problem, sweetheart. Jus' watch where ya step."

If no one was watching you would probably punch him square in the arm. He knew you wouldn't do anything; tell him off, hit him, nothing. You had a reputation to uphold as the president. What kind of president are you if you can't get along with everyone, including the school pariah.

You turn around after that, trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Of course, what were the odds you fall right into Hobie's arms. What a cruel twist of fate on you.

Damn you, Hobie Brown.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

That's how you find yourself in the present weeks.

Hobie comes up to you whenever he finds the chance. He comes to school more often, which may be good in some ways, just to see you. Of course it was odd to see the school's resident vigilante finding a friend in the school council's president, even after such a fiasco.

Only issue? You guys weren't friends! Not even close. You practically hates the guy. At least, you had to. That's what you thought, because that was the truth, right?

"So, what's the deal with you and that Hobie guy?"

You groan as you slam the locker shut, glancing at your friend. "Nothing is the deal. He's just an annoying prick."

"Woah, seems I hit a nerve." Your friend chuckled. "Just tell him to leave you alone. I'm sure he'll listen, no?"

They were right, you knew they were. Of course Hobie would leave you be if you asked him to stop or reported him. But something stopped you every time. You would always indulge in his antics and words, throwing back annoyed tones or sarcastic words. The easiest solution would be to just ignore him.

So why didn't you? Why did you expect him almost daily? What were you doing?

And of course, speak of the devil.

"Hey sweetheart." Hobie speaks behind you, leaning against the lockers. His eyes scan your friend. "Busy? I wanna talk to ya."

Your friend glanced at the two of you. "I'll.. see you later [Name]."

You sigh with a roll of your eyes, opening your locker back up. "What do you want?"

"Who was that?" Hobie asked. "A friend?"

"It doesn't matter. What do you want, Brown?"

Hobie chuckled quietly, amused by your somewhat hostile nature. "Not 'ere. Somewhere else."

You close the locker again to question his motives. But instead, you already see him walking off. This was the point you could have walked the other way, headed off to class like the good and perfect class president you were. That would be the responsible thing for you to do.

You debated with yourself for a moment before sighing, following Hobie at a distance. Why? Well you can't answer that. He led you to the front of the school, a side door in specific. You never really find yourself over here in specific, there was never a need to.

Hobie pushes the door open, walking out like it wasn't a big deal. He glanced back, ushering you to follow him. You groan but follow him. You were already too far from your next class to turn back and make it on time. Bailing at this point would be pointless.

"'m shocked ya haven't complained." Hobie spoke once you caught up with him.

You roll your eyes. "I'm actually a nice person, believe it or not. Just not with you, a vigilante."

"Hm, haven' been called that one before." He says, digging his arms in his vest pockets. "And don't worry, soon enough 'u'll like me."

"What makes you think-"

Hobie stops walking suddenly, tilting his head towards a tree. Your eyes narrow at it, but you couldn't dare deny how nice it was out here.

"This is where you wanted to take me?" You question as he sits down, taking his guitar off his back, placing it in his lap.

He nods, strumming the strings. "'s peaceful." He says, glancing up at you. "Sit. I ain't gonna bite."

Hesitantly, you sit down across from him, drawing your knees to your chest. You were grateful that this tree was far from the school, so no one could see you both.

God, when did it come to you skipping class with the Hobie Brown?

"So.." You draw out your word, looking at him with careful eyes. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, nothin'. Just wanted to get ya away from that friend of 'urs." He responded nonchalantly, shrugging as he tuned the strings.

You groan with a sigh. "Damn you, Brown. I could be in class right now!"

"But 'ur not. Ya didn't have t' come with me."

Of course he was right. Your own will brought you under this tree with Hobie as he mindlessly strums his guitar, skipping class in the process. Who was he making you?

"Besides," He starts, playing a chord. "Ya owe me. You know, savin' ya in the lunchroom? I wanna know more about ya."

You roll your eyes. Of course he would that against you. It wasn't like you asked to be saved like that.

But what else could you do out here with him?

"Fine. You get three questions. That's it."

Hobie nods, silently taking some time to think of the first question. "What's 'ur favourite colour?"

Well that certainly wasn't the type of question you expected. "Uhm.. [f/c]..?" You say with some uncertainty.

"Figures. Suits someone like you." He says, setting his guitar to the side to focus on you. "Alright, next question. Who's someone ya look up t'?"

"Easy, Spider-man. Some people call them Spider-punk, but I don't know, that doesn't sound like them." You speak casually, shrugging about it.

That answer surprised Hobie, but he didn't show it. Instead, he leaned back and questioned you as to why.

You sigh. "I guess.. it's because they fight for the good. They break all these rules, go against others expectations of a hero, and still save those who need saving. They still manage to do the right thing and save the day." You say, continuing on with your explanation. "I just wish that could be me sometimes. Breaking the rules and expectations set in place for me while still impressing others."

You clear your throat after, feeling as though you made things awkward. Hobie was silent as he just stared at you. Was he.. analyzing you? Your answer? You had no idea.

"Last question.." He continues, as if the last one never happened. "If you could do anything you wanted to, no limits, what would you do and why?"

Now this question was making you think. Anything? Absolutely anything? Maybe you were getting too deep.

"I would probably solve the-"

"No." Hobie cuts you off, sitting up. "Don't give me some bullshit answer abou' somethin' for others. Be selfish. I want an answer from [Name], not the perfect studen' council presiden'."

Your eyes widen, but then you look down, smiling to yourself somewhat gently. "I would.. I would run away to the city for a day, do everything that I want to do. Feel the freedom of not having everyone staring at my every move. Finally be able to just.. breathe." You say, not even bothering to see Hobie's expression.

"Noted."

You had no clue at that moment what his words meant, but surely they had to have held meaning. After a while, the two of you had to head back inside the school, the previous encounter and interactions still hanging heavily between you two. Still, you couldn't help but write a small note of 'thank you' to Hobie, putting it in his locker.

When Hobie went to his locker at the end of the day, the first thing he noticed was the crumpled up note with his last name written neatly on it. His mind immediately identified it as being from you.

'Thanks for letting me say all of that earlier. I don't think I've ever admitted to someone how much pressure I'm truly under. You really aren't that bad.

This still doesn't mean we're friends.

Yours truly, [Name].'

Oh yeah, Hobie would definitely be holding onto this note.

[iamjellyfish]

✦ Fragments of Her Existence ✦

✦ A/n: uh, angst, angst that is based on Madoka Magica. Yeh. Anyways, tumble, pls don't do me dirty and actually show everyone my posts!

✦Summary: In a losing battle with the Kaiju, to save Hoshina, you sacrifice yourself and vanish from the world. Nobody, nothing other than Hoshina, remembers you, and clings to the last piece of memories about you. 

✦Warning: angst, probably OOC, the reason you vanish is still a mystery, hurt, no comfort, hahaha. Anyway, you did off yourself to protect Soshiro:3

✦Wordcount: 3116

Bang... Bang... Bang... 

Soshiro found himself lying in a puddle of blood, from a fatal injury he got a few minutes ago while fighting the daikaiju. A lot of his bone was broken, his vision was blurry, and all he could hear now was gunshots from you, he couldn’t even feel pain right now, the agony from the situation overridden it. 

Supposedly, there was no data, no detection of a daikaiju; they were completely taken by surprise when the daikaiju suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started attacking. Worse of all, the signals were affected by the monster, and he can only whisper helplessly into the comm while you are still fighting. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

You quickly patch him up just enough for blood to not spill out more and head straight back into battle. The smell of iron and the heavy atmosphere on the battlefield did affect your will to fight. It's like a losing battle, and you are just hopelessly trying to drag things out with little hope that someone will come. 

It was dark, it was cold, it was miserable. Purely miserable.

It's like all your attacks bear no damage to the daikaiju, and you were a platoon leader. It's like you, an ant, struggling against a stronger, more powerful being that you barely hold yourself together to fight. 

Soshiro knows this, knows that you might not be able to hold much longer; he has been praying, begging for someone... Just someone on the other side of the comm to be able to call for help. But he only heard the glitches of the comm, yet he was still trying even if his brain was telling him that there was no hope. 

Bam. 

You got kicked into the nearby wall again; this time, you could hear your bone cracking. Your suit soon overheats, your face is bloodied, and all you can taste is the bitterness and iron of blood. Yet you still keep standing up, simply because Soshiro can't no longer fight and you were their last hope. 

"Soshiro... I'm sorry I might not make it, I'm sorry I might have to break our promises. I wanted to live in a normal world with you. To be able to wear a wedding dress and stand you, exchanging vows...! "

You said as you walked toward the daikaiju, a grenade in your hand, the other hand clicking the gun only to see there is no ammo left. Your voice weakly rings, your throat hurts, and your eyes fill with tears. You were crying; you cried because you knew you might never get to marry Soshiro, your fiancé. 

As you said, Soshiro tried his best to look at you through blood and tears. He held his hand out, signaling for you to don't do it. Soshiro used all his might to yell out for you, but all that came out from his bloodied throat were weak sounds calling for you. Yet it's not enough for you to give up. 

"But I have to continue to fight! Because you're behind me, I wanted you to live because you love blades right? You still have dreams to chase, and I only have you as my will to live. So then, Soshiro, please live happily. For I can't imagine myself living in a world where you can't continue chasing your dreams."

You smile as you hold the daikaiju down with all your strength left and pull the safety pin. As light overflows and starts to devour you with its destruction, you smile at him, at Soshiro. Then everything went blur; he didn't know how long he had been in a coma but he knew it was long enough for everyone to worry. 

"Huh... What happened? How long did I-"

Soshiro said as he looked around, the white wall, the white sheet, the bandages,... Yep, he is in the hospital. Soshiro starts regaining his vision, his eyes no longer get blocked by blood, and his throat no longer tastes bitter. When he wakes up, the rookie from the third division starts swarming him with tears in their eyes and worries in their voices. 

"Vice-captain...! We thought you were going to die! The daikaiju sudden attack- and the comm was cut off...! -"

"Where is y/n? Is she okay?"

He suddenly spoke as he looked at his broken arm and bruises on his fingers. Something inside his heart felt a strange unease. He looked around to find the sight of you, to find your lovely eyes and sweet voice, but you were nowhere to be found; all there was in this hospital room was coldness. The rookie looks at him, confused; they whisper to each other about this 'y/n' he is talking about, but none of them recognizes the name. In fact, per investigation, Soshiro is the only one there at the scene. Then, in the crowd, Kafka finally spoke up with worry in his voice. 

"Who is y/n? Is there someone else with you back then? When they found you, you were alone with no sign of daikaiju or even another human being." 

Soshiro's eyes widened as he heard Kafka's voice. How could they forget you? You were their idol! You were the one who begged for their punishment to be lessened at times; you were their beloved platoon leader! You were a sweet angel who would be caring and helpful when they needed you. How could they forget you? To the point, where no one can recognize the name? This is strange. 

Soshiro wants to yell at them, give them push-ups and laps to run, so that you may jump out with flowers and tell them to chill out, kiss him, and ask for forgiveness from the rookies. But when Soshiro looks at them with angry eyes and harshness in his voice, he further confuses everyone.

"Really? Is this some kind of prank? Y/n is your beloved platoon leader! First of all, pranking your superior is an act deserving of harsh punishment. Second of all, Y/n's heart would break if she knew this is how you are treating her!"

Soshiro said as he reached out for his phone, looking for your picture so that he could show the rookies your beautiful face, cute smile, and lovely eyes. Yet, when he put in his password, your image was nowhere to be found, and Soshiro swore he was the type to take pictures of you every moment he could. But there was nothing. 

He starts to think that someone has sneaked in to erase those images from him but it isn’t possible considering the fact that he has a rather difficult passcode to remember and the only other person that knows his passcode is you, the love of his life. Are you joining them in this prank too? If so you better recover his beloved pictures of you, because he cherishes every single image he has of you. So when he was about to lash out again because everyone was silent, just pure silent with awkwardness on their face, dumbfounded. Mina finally goes into the room with a bag of oranges and a phone on the other hand.

“Chill out Hoshina. Shinomiya texted me what happened, who is this y/n that making you yell at the rookies for?”

Soshiro finally sigh and mumble a little “sorry” to them. Then he looks into their eyes and starts to revise what happened that night, the despair night, the night he has to look at you sacrificing yourself for his sake. He hopes that his story will somehow shake out their memories and finally tell him your whereabouts. So with sadness coated in every word of his, he finally tells them the story.

“Y/n is my fiancé, the love of my life. That night, we were together, since the mission ended early, we thought we should sneak somewhere nearby and kiss. But then, out of nowhere, our comm glitches and we can’t contact the operation team. Turn out, a powerful daikaiju appeared and we were fighting a losing battle. She was fighting hopelessly while I was injured and trying to fix the comm, then she decided to use a grenade and sacrifice her life so that I could live.”

The sob story makes everyone once again fall silent, yet Kafka with no filter as he is deciding to whisper to Shinomiya. “Huh, didn’t know the vice-captain has a fiancé.” “Shut up, this is not the right time to question that!” Shinomiya punches his arm quietly. But Soshiro still hears that, which is more strange, since he was openly talking about his relationship to everyone yet somehow Kafka didn’t know. But then he looks back at Mina and her expression tells him that nobody knows, which makes everything even more strange. She looks at him with grief and hands him an orange while talking.

“Sorry to hear that about your fiancé. But… we couldn’t find her body, she might have burned to ashes. The stranger thing is, I never recall us having a platoon leader named ‘y/n’, and this is not a joint operation so either she has to sneak in or she never existed from the start.”

Her words sting, it’s like a knife that stabbed through his heart and doubts were the blood that bleed out. No way this is real, you were never real? Don’t play a cruel joke on him! He was there with you the whole night, he watched you falling, hurting, and still picking yourself up to fight. This is a very cruel, sick nightmare that makes him think this is an illusion from the daikaiju to make him despair and kill him. If so, it successfully makes him fall into a spiral of despair, yearning for your told, for a validation that you do exist. His hand holds onto the orange tight and crushes it, then he looks back to everyone with a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, I need time alone. Can everyone leave?”

Even if some of the rookies didn’t want to leave, Mina’s cold stare was enough for them to change their minds. Before Mina leaves, she silently looks at Soshiro as he looks through his phone, wanting to find even the smallest trace of you. She was worried but she couldn’t press him for more information when he had just woken up from a coma.

Soshiro on the other hand, texted you and begged you to reply. His fear is creeping on him, a cold feeling tracing down his spine as he texts your account not realizing the line “this user does not exist”. Soshiro could feel his heart wrenching, his eyes were hazy looking at the ‘sent’ line, waiting for it to change into ‘seen’. He’d rather die by your side than live without you, is this some cruel punishment that you gave him? Now he starts to think that to be dead holding your hand is a more heavenly option than to live knowing he the last person remembers you exist. Why did you have to sacrifice yourself? Wouldn’t dying together be better? He would rather have that ending to his life. He wouldn’t mind holding you close as the inevitable death consumes you both, even if you both turn into kaiju, he would be fine to be killed with you.

Sometimes when Soshiro thinks about it, he wants to bury you in the same coffin as you, he wants to be able to hold you, to cuddle you, to give you kisses even in his death, he will hold you so tight that no one could separate you from him. Yet now, even your existence is considered fiction, a mere illusion that was created when he is near death. He couldn’t hold you, couldn’t pamper you with love, couldn’t even prove that you exist. Soshiro wonder if you traded your existence for him to be alive, for him to chase his dreams because if that was so, he wanted a refund.

But then again, he was afraid at the thought the whole thing, the whole relationship, you were merely imagination. So Soshiro takes out a pen and a notebook, writing every loving memory of you and him, he writes everything about you, he writes as if there is no tomorrow. Because he is afraid of slipping you away.

“Summer afternoon, she let me lay on her lap as I told her about my day. Her eyes were so lovely as she listened to me, the golden light of the sun reflecting on her skin made her so dreamy. I remember she likes chilling in weather like this, it makes her sleepy.”

He recalls as he writes, he thinks about drawing you, then his hand moving unconsciously. That might do it, a drawing that fairly resembles you, he could show Ashiro this and hope that she could help him find you. He writes out your hobbies, your favorite tea that he doesn’t understand about what’s so special about a tea that is purple with lemon, now think of it, if you were to return, he would buy you that tea every day. He also writes out which food you like and how you dislike certain types of food, he makes sure everything about you is written in great detail. Before Soshiro realizes it, in one night, he already fills all the paper in that 200-page notebook with details, drawings, and other stuff of you. Even every single interaction with you is written.

Then, he is afraid that he will forget your voice since voice is the first thing you will forget about someone. Soshiro spent the rest of his night recalling your voice, playing it like it’s a Spotify playlist to him, repeating again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and…

Drifting off to sleep with your voice still ringing in his mind, he feels like sleeping that night was so peaceful, a harmony created from your voice and sweet memories of you. Soshiro recalls that night when you vanished again, if what you want is a peaceful world where you can be a normal girl who wears a wedding dress and stands at the altar, then he will fight for a world with that ideal. He finds himself deciding that he will cherish your existence, your love with him will be buried in his heart even if it is painful to hold, Soshiro would cling to it with all his might because that’s the last thing you gave to him. The memories of your existence.

After recovering and getting discharged from the hospital, no matter how much the rookie press or Ashiro asked about you, he would brush it off to be ‘his late lover whom he will meet again in the afterlife’. To be truth, he was silently hoping that death would come his way quicker, he couldn’t bear living without you Soshiro might never date again with the reason ‘Y/n will be mad at me for looking at another girl’. Now, his coping mechanism is his blades which he will swing with all his might, you disappear for him to continue using blades so he will use them more, and train with them more.

And also because when he train using his blade, he could feel your ghost cheering him on “Keep on the good work Soshiro” and he will nod smiling. And if he overworks himself, he could see the shadow of you pouting and rambling about how it’s unhealthy to be exhausting himself too much just for training. Soshiro spent his days fighting with you on his mind, the love you give him in his heart and his blade-wielding your wishes. The image of a girl whom he loves, you whom he misses is what keeps him fighting, even if the world forgets you, Soshiro would still keep you alive in his mind, his world, his reality.

But there are also times when his heart aches at the thought of not being with you, it yearns for your touches, your warmth again but you are nowhere to be found, where his tears turn into a river of hopelessness waiting for somehow, the world would prove to him you exist, to show him the path to once again get to sit next to you, to hold you and kiss you on the lips. Sometimes Soshiro comes home, calling out to you, yet there is no response, he touches the blanket and reminds himself of the sight of you sleeping peacefully.

They could call this delusional but to Soshiro, this is a bitter dream that was paid with your existence. And one day, Soshiro himself would drift into the land of death, where you would once again put his head on your lap, whispering sweet words “You did good, Soshiro”, welcoming him to stay by your side for eternity. But for now, Soshiro will fight for the ideal world of yours, he will swing his blades because you trade your everything for his happiness.

You were his savior, the love of his life, the princess who held his heart hostage, and his soon-to-be wife.

“You know Hoshina, even if everything that you write is true, and that drawing was ‘y/n’. There is still no way of proving her existence, even if you write those great details… those events never happened or were altered. But I admit, she is beautiful.”

Mina said as she stood with Soshiro on the rooftop after another mission watching while the Monster Sweeper company cleaned up the dead body of Kaiju. Soshiro simply hums in agreement, after all, you are really beautiful. Soshiro lies through his teeth while smiling then waving off as he walks home.

“It’s fine, even if I’m the only one that remembers her, that means she entrusts me. One day I will return by her side and we will watch the sunset together.”

Even if it’s not fine by Soshiro, even your silent sacrifice was something Soshiro wanted to share, he will wait patiently for the day you come and hold him again as he and you drift off to the other side where there are only the two of you. He loves you and by asking you to be his fiancé, he has decided that his fate, his heart, and his soul will forever belong to you even if you no longer exist in this world.

Thank you for reading:D

[disappearenceofsomeone]

the small... the itty bitty.. the sad sniffles..

(hi guys!! needed a break to deal with something, but hopefully I can actually try a schedule for posting stuff soon :3 )

uhh I got designs + barely cohesive context right below:

I love these SILLIES!!! don't mind how empty Winnie's page is, I didn't know what to do

decided that giving them school uniforms to match the surrounding this took place in was a ok decision so I did that!!

also here's the rlly confusing context I made in the middle of the night whilst accidentally pulling an all nighter at the same time:

(I have 0 experience in writing anything in general, I was spouting whatever made sense in my head so if you think this is ooc for them, it probably and most likely is lmaoo. sorry in advance to everyone who was curious ehough to read whatever... this is considered..)

anyways, prologue takes place in an elementary school where Winnie just finished his day at school, it didn't go that well but y'know, there's 10 more things to worry Abt then that. He gets to the bus stop, knowing well he was gonna have to stay there for awhile and planned on making himself comfortable. Upon arriving, he hears sad sniffles from across the seats and boom, sad lil meow meow auggie appears!! Very concerned Winnie approaches the kid, proceeds to get a very hot headed response from him as auggie pushes him away (he isn't having any of it today + he was kinda a punk when he was little like damn!!!) Winnie clearly sees that the dude needs ATLEAST *some* company so he just, sits by him awkwardly. Augustine over here doesn't have a clue why he's still not going away but accepts it nonetheless, albeit in a very tsun tsun way I guess. Winnie takes this as a small talk starter and tries to engage with him, to no avail as auggie seems to have a very reserved manner when alone. After a few minutes of trying, he decides to just be straightforward and ask him what's up, to which Augustine replies with a 'none of your business, why do you want to know?' type of response. He just tells him that moping around wasn't gonna do him any good and since they both seem to be going home late anyway, might as well kill time. (on second thought, they sound very adult for 7-12 yr olds, what. I will come back to reread this dw) Augustine now knows Winnie doesn't mean any harm and decides why not, got nothing else to do. He proceeds to tell him regarding how others seem to only want to be around him whenever he acts a certain way (ie, very bubbly, friendly, etc) and thinks about whether or not people actually do like him for himself. It also makes him feel like if people actually knew how he was, not many would stay (like a 'yeah I want people to stay, but I want them to stay for who I actually am' type thing). Winnie tells him that he should be himself, regardless of what anybody else thinks otherwise. Additionally, Winnie thinks that if nobody's willing to stay after seeing the truth, it's their loss honestly, he thinks Augustine should care about people who would actually be there for him, not for who he's trying to be. Augustine is somewhat stunned by this, asking if he's been through this before, to which Winnie remarks with a similar situation happening back in his previous school (Winnie's friends didn't stay in touch and never contacted him ever since he moved). They pretty much notice atp how similar they were and decided to spend to the entire time waiting just chatting, turns out they got along very well (cue scenes of them yelling at each other playing games, cat scratching as they yell something dumb at the other while simultaneously talking about how cute the cats walking around were). Time passes and bam! Winnie's mom finally comes over to pick them up!!

"Hey! I know that lady! She's my mom's neighbour! :O"

"Oh, it's my mom-- How do you know my mom???"

"Uh, duh!! >:/ I just said that she's my mom's neighbour--- she's your mom!?!?"

(Cue them getting inside the car and getting bits about how Augustine and his mom met. Apparently, he and his mom visited to send off some gifts for her, when in actuality, it was to send off some medicine for Winnie, who was sick during this time. Of course they got some gifts but the medicine was important. And the gifts were too.)

As they got closer towards their houses, Winnie was planning to just go back inside the house immediately since he's got no plans going on and assumes that was it. Augustine thinks otherwise, so when they both got out of the car, he immediately blurts out his name and introduces himself. Winnie, realizing this entire time they haven't even said their names towards each other, also introduces himself in response.

They both seem to connect easily and since no one else was willing to, they will instead. With a promise to stay by each other's side no matter what, they both spent their entire childhood together. They were practically two peas in a pod, nobody ever saw them apart, even if they were in a group of people. They stood out by a lot since then, the very loud and obnoxious kid was hanging around with someone who could chill him out in an instant. The two were inseparable

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT….. okay fainting while rehearsing with tokio hotel

basically the reader has been lacking sleep and is over working herself and when the band were rehearsing she fainted

(Hello! Sure I can! Enjoy!) Taglist

Fainting with Tokio Hotel

Obviously, everyone is concerned for you

You seemed fine for a moment, then, BAM

you were down for the count

It happened so fast everyone couldn't react as quickly as they would have

Gustav was standing closest to you, and somehow managed to catch you before you fell and hit your head and died

He was freaked and almost actually let you go, but was smart enough to sit down with your head in his lap

Bill noticed quickly yelling in surprise before he rushed over to help

He dropped his mic, just as Tom noticed and came to help, tripping on it and almost dragging Georg down with him

Everyone was stumbling over to you, everyone almost dying in the process as hands backstage and they all came running

They're your closest friends, so obviously they're all concerned

Bill is yelling for someone to get a medic at least, and Tom is almost shaking you to wake you up

"(Name)! I swear, don't be fucking dead!"

"Stop shaking them!"

"It'll wake them up!"

"No, it won't! It'll give them shaken baby syndrome!"

"What the hell is that?!"

"It's where if you shake a baby they'll be messed up in the head!"

"...oh, shit!"

Georg and Tom don't know what to do that's their whole conversation, making absolutely no sense at goddamn all

Gustav and Bill are the only ones actually helping, making sure your head is okay and answering the medics questions

But Georg and Tom help eventually, letting nobody else carry you except the two of them because they wanted to make sure you were okay

They somehow got you to the dressing room, laying you on the couch

Somehow a story was pieces together from the medic

You were extremely tired, malnourished as he noticed as well

It finally clicked for the guys as they had barely seen you even sleep, drink or eat in the past few days

Bill noticed when it started, telling you it's okay and to stop overworking yourself

Tom was the one to make you eat, giving you food and watching you eat, even if it was something small hen he would let you work on whatever you wanted

Gustav was worried for your health, seeing how tired and stressed you were as he offered to help take a load of your shoulders, but you refused

Georg was one to stay out your way, but had to step in and take your stuff, making you get at least a little sleep before it all

But it all seemed worthless now as you laid passed out on the couch

Tired, hungry and overworked

They all felt bad for you, as a friend they all felt guilty and like they failed

The second you woke up they were all over you again

Hounding you in mixed scoldings and relief that you were okay

Bill was letting you know to never do that again and that you worried them

Tom was just glad you were awake, saying stuff to not do that again

Georg was the one telling you that you scared the shit out of everyone

While Gustav was making sure you were okay, and telling you to stop overworking yourself again

They all felt guilty and then suddenly had a little agreement to stop this from happening

From then on, they made sure you ate, slept and drank at least something

It may seem a bit drastic and weird, but they're your closest friends

And they would feel like shit if this happened again

So mark their words, they have the best intentions, and a way to have this never happen again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @dead-tapes @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0

[lesbianrobin]

em what would YOU vote for on ur buck horrors poll - chefbuck

HI ANGEL @chefbuck THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!

ok so personally i voted anthrax i just think it would be fun to stick him in a plastic decontamination tent and hose him down until he's sopping wet and pathetic while eddie gazes at him with big sad eyes. and i voted it bc i feared nobody else would vote anthrax and i Needed anthrax to have Some votes. but i Actually want captured by a serial killer à la criminal minds So bad.

take my hand come along with me share my vision.

"but em," you cry, "they already did that with hen and chimney!" first of all they have already done almost everything okay we can have a few repeats. bobby's home burnt down literally twice. second of all i don't want something connected to the 118 alright i don't even want athena on the case. this is not an angel of death this is some classic good old-fashioned california rando serial killing.

episode one: buzzkill. i want everything to be normal like no hints to a serial killer at all besides MAYBE a tv news report in the background. there's some other shit happening like they're dealing with the beemergencies and we the audience think ok That is the big plot happening rn. and then toward the end of the episode buck goes for a jog. and like the beautiful young woman in any given criminal minds episode he happens to jog past a man with an injured dog or a flat tire and buck stops to help because he's buck. of Course he stops to help. and the guy blitzes him and the screen goes black and BAM end of the episode.

and then in the next episode we open on some other character doing totally unrelated shit maybe the henren/mara/madney plot? and we get like five-ten minutes in to the episode before anybody references buck. maybe he's late to work or maybe he's not answering his phone. that's weird but OOPS the alarm is going off no time to check in on him right now! gerrard is unfortunately captain so they can't even like convince him to let them swing by buck's loft even when they drive right down his street on their way back from a call. so the 118 is running all over los angeles dealing with nonstop calls while they Also try to call buck and don't get any response. so eventually they ask somebody (bobby, maddie, whoever's not Busy) to go by the loft and see if he's alright.

and i want the 118 to respond to a fire in an abandoned building as their buck correspondent is on their way to the apartment. when they put out the fire athena is there and reveals that they think this fire was set by a killer to try and destroy evidence because they found a body inside and this fits a pattern that's been developing lately. BAM they get the call that buck's apartment is empty.

i will stop giving the play-by-play now but i just think it would be so fucking sick if they Refused to show us buck for almost the entire episode... perhaps athena tells us that this killer has a Type that sounds familiar... and i want the 118 + maddie absolutely spiraling telling themselves ok there's gotta be Some other explanation this would be insane it would be Insane. maybe this causes some tension in the group (eddie is Going Fucking Insane). and then they can get a lead near the end of the episode and we see buck very briefly like tied up or in a saw trap or whatever the hell i'm not picky we just need to see him suffering perhaps with a brief villain monologue from his captor. and THEN in episode three: no place like home they can rescue him and then he's dealing with that trauma throughout 8a. i think that could be fun and also serve as both motivation for canon buddie And like some sort of obstacle for them to deal with together that doesn't involve eddie in the same old torment nexus.

so yeah <3 thank u for asking <3