#on one puny little phone??? one puny little phone that can barely last through one day if i dare to use it?

[hamletisintown]

crying bc i just discovered philips discontinued my current mp3 player's model (and most if not all mp3 player models that they made, from what i can see). what am i gonna do when my trusty little philips friend dies. it's stillg going strong but i've been using it almost everyday for more than 10 years now.

[lwh-writing]

Skulker's Boring Hunt

“And now that we have located the proper biome, we are able to safely release the beast back into the wild.”

Skulker opens the cage door and turns the camera so that the virtual audience can watch as the peryton returns to the wilderness of the Ghost Zone, all the while silently bemoaning how he got here.

Ever since the existence of ghosts had become public knowledge, the Whelp had been determined to improve relations with humans. Part of that outreach effort included a handful of ghosts selected to begin ‘virtual relations’ through a process called ‘streaming’ and ‘vlogging’ so that they could ‘show the world that they weren't that different from everybody else.’

Skulker, honestly, couldn't give less of a damn about humans and what they thought of his kind. The only reason (and he very much means only reason) he had put his name on the volunteer list was for the easy access to the Living Realm and the new variety of hunts.

The Whelp, though, had put stipulations on Skulker’s ticket out of the Ghost Zone. Firstly, if he ever hunted in the Infinite Realms, he had to document and explain the animals he hunted so as to provide ‘educational value to his viewers’ or other such nonsense. Secondly, if any dangerous (non-sapient) ecto-animal was loose in the Living Realm, Skulker had to drop everything and stop its rampage. And last, and certainly least, Skulker couldn't kill anything.

Skulker had tried to reason his way out of that one, claiming that it contradicted his Obsession. The Whelp had tried to reason right back, claiming that he could still feed his Thrill of the Hunt without slaughtering something on live air. They had settled on a compromise: Skulker would run a poll with his viewers, and they would decide whether he gained a new pelt or not.

The fickle humans had, to date, always voted for catch and release.

“As this week's hunt has now concluded, it is time to decide what or who I will be hunting next week. The polls are now open.”

Skulker scrolled through his Fenton-Foley-Phone as he let his puny audience make their decisions. Ember had posted a recent picture of a restaurant in Barcelona, the latest city on her grand tour. Skulker gave it a like and looked back at the now concluding poll, a little surprised at the results.

Of the ten options given by his chat and selected by his moderators, there were a few picks that were always nominated but never won. It seemed his viewers desperately wanted to see him take on a dragon, a gorgon, a vampire, and some human named Lex Luthor. This week was no different, as all four of those options were just barely beaten by a new entry to the lineup.

“It appears that next week I will be hunting the Joker.”

Immediately, the chat exploded into chaos.

wonder_womanSIMP: pog

StardustSinger: skulker vigilante arc?? 👀

Penglow: RIP watch out for the Batman!

rock-mayo: RIGGED

golfAceVendetta: pog

OpperantParrot: LETS FUCKING GO!!!!

the_general_plum: :D

carbon-ham: D:

LizardSquid: E

egg_composition: gotham is going to chew you up and spit you out lmao

OtterCat: D:

“And once again, it’s time to decide my prey’s fate. Type one to vote kill, type two to vote spare. Voting is now open.”

That prompted another flood of responses, and Skulker returned to his phone, scowling a bit at his girlfriend’s posts. He was happy for Ember, of course he was. She was fulfilling her dream and chasing her Obsession, how could he be anything but ecstatic and proud of her success? He just missed her, though he would never admit it aloud.

Hm. Perhaps he could do a little solo hunting and send her a new pelt. Something to remind her of the Ghost Zone while she was away.

The timer went off, and Skulker dejectedly checked the results of the poll, only to do a quick double-take before smiling sharply at the results.

“Results are in. It seems this week I will be hunting, and killing, the Joker.”

The chat exploded with excitement right before Skulker started saying his outro and mentally mapping out his hunt in the coming week, unaware that at that very moment, a complication had arisen in his plan.

TheBloodSon: It appears that this may be a problem.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Thieves (Obey me x Reader)

In response to my last poll in which HCs won by a country mile, I present Mammon and Satan being needy little thieves! Enjoy!

MC has adapted several ways to evaluate the Devildom. This formerly alien place has now become rather familiar, but it plays by its own rules.

This is no less true for the seven brothers they share a roof with.

MC's had to learn quirks, hairpin triggers to flaming tempers, boundaries and fixations, but something they've also learned, is that each and every one of those brothers is a little thief.

Mammon had been oddly quiet all day. Ten hours without seeing him, and MC hadn't received a single text or disgruntled call. Not even a second hand message passed through his brothers.

It's odd, they find themselves staring aimlessly at their DDD as they make their way to their room for the evening. It's getting late, later than MC would've stayed out if not for Diavolo and Lucifer's company.

No amount of staring at the screen will change it though, no new messages from their first demon.

With a pursed frown, they push open their bedroom door, eager to get comfortable for the evening.

They peeled off the nice clothes they'd worn for dinner with the demon prince and reach for their favourite hoodie, the one that practically lives on the chair at their desk, only to be met instead by bare wood.

'Huh? Where'd I put-?'

Muttering to themselves, MC spun in a circle, searching for the familiar shade of painfully comfortable fabric, internally wondering how in the Devildom they'd misplaced THAT.

MC's more likely to loose their head than that hoodie, and as they finish the first lap of their room, they realise they haven't lost it at all.

It's been stolen.

Eyes rolling, they pull on an oversized tee shirt and shuffle out of the room, padding on bare feet.

Given the circumstances, there's only one demon who would attempt such thievery.

They knocked once on Mammon's door before pushing it open, and found him lounging on his sofa, wearing MC's double oversized, baggy hoodie as he scrolled through his phone.

'Whatdya want Luci-? Oh shit!'

The demon's expression was downright comical as he scrambled to try and cover himself with something. Too bad that the nearest object was a ridiculously tiny throw pillow.

Still, he's anything but a quitter and holds the item firmly to his chest. 'H-hey, what're ya doin' bargin' into a guy's room, human?!'

'Looking for that.' MC chuckled, leaning smugly against the closed door. 'If you missed me that much, you could've just said so.'

Mammon's cheeks became a delightful shade of rose, all too perfect to ignore. 'Like hell I'd miss ya! Puny human, you're lucky I don't-'

'Don't what?' MC purred, stepping forward until they stood between the demon's legs, gentle fingers combing the hair back from his face gently. 'Steal the rest of my wardrobe?'

Mammon gulped, wide eyes unable to look away from the human, his human, smiling down at him like he...like he mattered, like they loved him.

Before he can think to fake an objection, MC slid into his lap, arms sliding around his neck as they cuddled close, yawn slipping past their lips.

'If you're gonna steal my comfy hoodie, you'd better be ready to replace it, greedy menace.'

Of all the Devildom's lords, you'd have thought Satan sat on the far end of the spectrum when it came to open clinginess.

MC's a long way from being fooled into thinking that he's immune to missing them, despite the demon's stoicism.

On an outing with Solomon, MC had lost all ability to use their DDD (not at all because they were trapped in a pocket dimension after Solomon tried to prove a point).

By the time they'd returned to their proper places, MC had at least a dozen texts and three missed calls from the demon.

Rushing to the House of Lamentation, ready with apologies on their tongue for missing the planned reading date, they found the Avatar of Wrath's room empty.

Crestfallen, MC started typing a message on their way back to their own room, only to hear Satan's notification ping from beyond the door.

They found the mighty, terrifying avatar of Wrath, curled up on their bed with a book and MC's favourite plushie in his lap, their blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

'Shut the door!' Demanded the blonde, fighting off a blush as MC began to giggle.

With the door closed and locked behind them, MC arched a brow. 'Missed me that much? We resort to stealing plushies now?'

'It's still in your room, therefore, not stolen.'

'Uh huh. So you've just replaced me with a plushie sheep?'

Satan's returning smile was impish, one he saved for MC's playful bantering. He set the little sheep aside gently, and wordlessly opened his arms, eyes never once wandering from MC.

The human didn't hesitate, crawling into his lap in the little sheep's place, resting their cheek against his shoulder as Satan wrapped the blanket around them both and picked his book back up.

'Read to me?'

The demon pressed a kiss to the crown of their head, free hand gliding through their hair. 'Of course, love.'

[binniedeactivated]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦 (1.3)

[ m.list ]

➦ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

➦ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐮

➦ 𝐖/𝐂 | 2.6k

➦ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒  | 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫,  𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬  𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

➦ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

POC = person of color

“myla! daniel! come get your lunchboxes”. yeonjun reminds, shoving another small pack of cookies into daniel’s just before zipping it shut. the two uniformed children rushed downstairs at once, apparently having a race seeing who could grab their lunchbox the fastest. yeonjun always ignored their petty little games unless they started physically fighting over them.

“good morning logan”. yeonjun coos, buckling his car seat. it was odd that the infant was always wide awake in the morning. yeonjun thought if he was a baby he would use that to his advantage and get all the sleep he wanted. but logan enjoyed being awake, as if he was afraid he was going to miss something. “are you ready for daycare?”. yeonjun smiles a little more at the baby prior to hearing heels clash against the kitchen floor.

he didn’t need to look up to know that it was leah, putting her morning coffee in her thermos like she did every morning. except today she was ignoring almost the whole house. specifically yeonjun. she barely looked at him nevertheless talked to him. and yeonjun hated when she acted that way in front of the children. it was already bad enough that myla overheard them arguing. he didn’t want to cause anymore scenes.

“come on guys lets go to the car we’re going to be late”.

yeonjun gathers them in the vehicle making sure all seat belts were on and that logan was safely strapped in himself. he places the diaper bag on the backseat floor before shutting the door and sliding into the front seat. as soon as yeonjun closed the door though he was hit with an over powering smell that crept down the back of his throat. he covered his nose and looked through the rear view mirror knowing exactly where the smell was coming from.

“ew daniel! you stink”. myla whines hiding her nose underneath her shirt.

“how much of my body spray did you use?”.

“what? I used just enough to get me some attention”.

“you’re going to get some attention alright. when you use body spray daniel you use it in modesty. don’t pour the whole bottle on yourself. go in the house and get another uniform shirt out of your drawer”.

he sighs, unbuckling his seat belt to run inside. leah shortly passed him on his way. she made her way to the car and opened the passenger seat door, sliding in and putting her purse on the floor beside her. yeonjun stared at her annoyingly. he turned some soft morning music on the radio to drown out their conversation being that myla was still in the car.

“don’t do this this morning”. he mumbles.

“I’m not doing anything. just drop me off to work yeonjun”. she mumbles back with an eye roll.

“why do you always have to do this in front of the kids? why? you can’t even pretend that we’re on good terms you just want to act like a nuisance no matter what?”.

“that’s your problem yeonjun. you want to fake everything. you want to me to fake my way through our circumstances, fake my way through this marriage and fake my happiness. I’m not doing it anymore”.

yeonjun chews on his lower lip. “why didn’t you just say that in the first place? why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?”.

“you wouldn’t understand”.

“why wouldn’t I? why wouldn’t I want to make the mother of my children happy? if that’s what it takes in order for you to be who I know you can be I’d be willing to do anything”.

“you wouldn’t understand yeonjun”. she repeats, making that her last word before she turned away to look out of the window. even when daniel finally got back in the car yeonjun sat there quietly, wondering what she was talking about. he hated how difficult she was making this. if she didn’t want to be married to him that’s all she had to say. but she wasn’t saying that.

yeonjun was glad when he finally dropped her off to the real estate company she’s been working at for years now. she got out the car without saying a word. yeonjun wanted to remind her that since he picked up the kids yesterday it would be her turn today. but he didn’t even bother. he knew she was going to act like it slipped her mind and he didn’t want his children waiting around like they were last time. so he put the pickup for today in his own hands.

“daddy? the book fair is coming and I want to buy books”. myla whines in the backseat. yeonjun was kind of glad she started talking, he was trying to avoid his thoughts as much as possible.

“okay just tell me when it comes and I’ll give you money myla”.

“since myla is getting new books can I get a new game?”. daniel chimes in.

“daniel why do you always want a video game? you should start reading books like your sister”.

“no one reads books these days. what’s the point of reading?”.

“there are so many things wrong with what you just said”. yeonjun playfully prayed for the boy hoping that one day some sense will finally come to him. but for now he’ll let him be the young boy that he was. next, he cruises his way to logan’s daycare telling the kids to sit tight while he brought the infant inside.

the caretakers smiled lovingly at the sight of logan, they thought he was such a cute and good baby--much more well behaved than the others at least. upon arrival the brown skin woman smiled her widest, reaching her hands out for him.

“ah there he is! good morning logan!”.

yeonjun tries to lean the baby forward so she could grab him but instead he clings to his father’s sweater.

“come on logan don’t you want to go play and have fun?”. yeonjun coos. he tries to instead lift him and physically hand him to her. but it wasn’t long before he curled his bottom lip and started crying in absolute distress.

“aw logan. can you give us a minute?”. yeonjun asks while taking him back. the caretakers grant him another moment while yeonjun turns around and softly bounces the baby until he was quiet again. he whispers,

“what’s the matter? you don’t want to go to daycare today? daddy has to work”.

the infant only sniffles, wrapping his puny arms around his father’s neck.

“I have to work so I can buy you and your siblings all the toys and stuff that you want. don’t you want toys?”.

yeonjun knew logan could barely understand a word he said. but he loved talking to him anyway. he reaches in his pocket trying to find something he could give the baby to make him last without him throughout the day. he was grateful to have found a baby blue handkerchief. it wasn’t a toy of any sort, but it was something.

“look! look what i found”. yeonjun playfully gasps. at the sight of the small piece of fabric, logan reaches his hand out to grab it. he played with a little before a small smile crept on doughy cheeks. he buries his small nose in it, happy that it smelled just like his father. yeonjun kisses his forehead.

“if you be good i’ll give you some ice cream tonight okay?”.

he carefully walks him back over being able to successfully hand him off to the caretakers without a problem. he was still looking down at the handkerchief and smelling it and playing with it and yeonjun hoped that could possibly last him. he gives them the diaper bag and gifts them one last goodbye before he was on his way to drop his last couple of kids off.

well, drop myla off. because daniel hated when yeonjun dropped him off. he was obsessed with becoming a cool kid and he thought being dropped off by his dad just wasn’t cool at all. but being the loving dad that yeonjun was, he embarrassed him anyway.

“daddy loves you daniel!”. he’d shout while his son walked down the hallway to his fourth grade classroom. “dad stop!”. he’d whine back hoping none of his friends would hear. but yeonjun only laughed and did it again before he had to take myla to her own kindergarten classroom.

it was a no brainer that by the time yeonjun walked in the door adriana was all eyes. as he signed myla in and kissed her on her cheeks he held eye contact with adriana even as she was across the classroom helping other students. the dress that she wore--- sent heat to yeonjun’s cheeks. she smirks knowing full well he was loving the view of the way her body moved in it, and he licks his lips shortly before leaving for work. but god, if it was up to him he’d take her to his car and pound her until she couldn’t feel her legs anymore.

he cursed himself for thinking about it throughout the day even while he was at work. while he was producing music it was hard for him to focus on the lyrics at hand especially with sex on his mind.

“damn did you and leah have a good time last night?”. taehyun asks while smirking, snapping yeonjun out of his daydreams.

“what? not even”. yeonjun quickly laughs it off to avoid confrontation. “I haven’t touched her in months”.

“you’re touching someone, with the way you’ve been daydreaming all day”. taehyun laughs. yeonjun checks his watch and shoves his coat on.

“shut up taehyun. I have to go get the kids. the lyrics are finished”.

“whatever. text me after you’re done touching whoever your touching”.

yeonjun sticks up his middle finger until he fully disappeared down the hallway and finally into his car. he got to the school in no time flat, although when he arrived he could still see daniel and his team still practicing in the gym. he checked his watch a couple more times trying to find out if maybe he came a bit earlier than usual.

he had to, because he’s never caught any teacher in the hallway before. at the sound of heels clashing against the linoleum floor he glares up to see adriana sashaying down the hallway, as she was just finished locking up her classroom for the evening, sharing glances with her phone before she finally noticed him and stopped dead in her tracks.

and just like that they bustled into the confinements of the janitor’s closet, hungrily tongue kissing each other like they would never do it again. the gray skin tight dress that yeonjun came to love dearly in such a short amount of time was now being lifted and she was perched perfectly against the door like yeonjun wanted her to be since he first saw her this morning. he snatched her lacy black panties down her ankles in a series of movements-- groaning and wrapping her legs around his waist in need.

with the both of them still coating each others tongues in their own shared saliva yeonjun sneaks his hands into her hair, he grabbed hold and jerked her head back against the door and she could feel the measly pinch at the base of her hair follicle but she didn’t care. the both of their lips met in force and their tongues battled stroke for stroke, each fighting it’s own stressors of life, yeonjun and his broken marriage and adriana with the abusive ex she had yet to tell him about.

but they delighted in the delectation of desperate rough sex. where adriana felt her panties get sticky with just one swift movement and where yeonjun became hard just hearing how heavy she was breathing. he gropes her ass hard and with a grunt, latching his lips onto another sector of her neck in which she wallowed in, enjoying the suction of his delicate pink lips on her skin. he nipped it lightly until they were now conjoined, hip against hip with his dick entering her and her slick core smothering it in it’s wake. the short breathless gasps she made when he stuck himself inside her was what he lived for. and he wouldn’t trade those sounds for any other sexual noise in this world.

he dug his nails further into the fatty globes of her ass thrusting so hard that her body was steadily hitting the door. if he was in his right mind he would actually consider making less noise but with the strain on his nerves lately he made a secret vow to fuck the living hell out of adriana; there was no way he was backing down now. she struggled to regain breath and sight in the midst of his determined thrusts but she couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted it more than anything. with her lips parted, eyes half lidded, she erotically moans and stutters over her words barely able to dish out a syllable before his hips snapped into her again.

“ggod yeonjun--”. she pants, clawing her own fingernails into his back.

“I knew you were wet but fuck“. he groans, seating himself deeper inside her. he reaches a hand down to her clit, mentally agreeing that it was the softest, wettest thing he ever felt in his life. he circled it a bit in one firm stroke and tightened his grip on her hair. she winces. his eyes, gradually darkening into hers---he waited until he had a good amount of her slick around his fingers before he sunk them into his mouth while goading into her eyes menacingly. he could feel her pulse harder around his dick the more he sucked and licked his fingers in front of her face like that, as if it wasn’t something she desperately wanted him to do to her.

“you want me to eat your pussy like this adriana?”.

at the sound of his husky voice she could just crumble beneath him. but he furthered his agenda of absolutely ruining her, dragging his tongue up her chin and into her mouth and once he found her tongue--he starts sucking it lightly. she whimpered against his mouth at the brutality of his hips, still demolishing her and making her legs feel like a keening mess. the faster yeonjun felt his orgasm approaching the harder he gripped her hair. she was practically voiceless, unable to control the responses she gave each time he slammed his himself into her. she was nothing mere of a toy at this point, but she had no problem with being just that.

yeonjun found himself obsessed at how abnormally wet she was, consistently reaching his hand down just to toy with her throbbing clit. adriana felt herself shudder at his relentless fingers and she whined into the crook of his neck. with no warning he shoves his coated fingers between her lips and kisses that spot of hers---the one that was just a couple of inches below her ear before he whispers into it softly.

“if we had time I’d suck the cum out of you”.

as if he weren’t pounding her enough she grew weaker at the sound of his voice and her orgasm was coming within seconds. she tasted herself on his fingers; salty but savory filling the buds on her tongue. yeonjun was biting his lips tearing himself into her repeatedly. adriana thought that if this was the way he looked when he was close to cumming she could watch him cum over and over again.

the intrusive mix of their fluids spiraled down the both of their legs as their chests heave and her back arch against the door.  yeonjun crashes his lips against hers just one more time before pulling away and smirking down at her worn out features. as if on cue, the coaches whistle blows signifying the end of daniel’s basketball practice.

[bearstarseraphffxi]

Subtext and Connotations

“Stupid kid…” Piccolo said to himself. He looked at the small human — no not human, not completely anyway — who had fallen asleep and casually collapsed onto him without a care in the world.

A world that had just gotten immeasurably bigger ten months ago.

Piccolo did not know how to react at first. This kid was a first for many things. He stayed still hoping he’d fall off.

But no… The son of his greatest enemy had just leaned forward and was now draped over one of his legs.

Piccolo sighed. He looked up at the moonless night sky. He absentmindedly wondered which pinprick of light was the fault of what he was about to do. What he had been stewing over for four months now, making him seriously analyze his birth and what could have gone wrong with the transfer. He was Demon King Piccolo, damn it…

Piccolo looked over to the west and sneered. He could practically hear Kami snickering in his head.

Piccolo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He put his large hand on the boy’s head. “Sebnek yemtaw himefinnew.”

Gohan moaned and twitched.

Piccolo jerked his hand away, but Gohan simply moved his arm and somehow ended up even more over his leg before he went still again.

Piccolo sighed in relief.

~~***~~

“Hey, Mr. Piccolo?” Gohan asked, adjusting his pants from the morning bush and small ki-blasted hole visit.

“What?” he said annoyed.

Piccolo stood as he always did, his back to him, but Gohan did not mind. That was just Mr. Piccolo.

When his mother was mad at his father, she would turn her back and talk in that tone when he would win the argument, then reword what he had said to make it look like she got exactly what she wanted all along. He did not know what he was “winning”, but Mr. Piccolo was being a lot nicer to him recently when he wasn’t beating him into a pulp.

“What does Seb nek yem taw—”

Piccolo partially spun around. “What?! You were awake?!”

Gohan stuttered, “I… you always randomly attack me. But you were gentle, so I went back to sleep.”

Piccolo regained his composure, crossed his arms, and towered over the boy. Any other child would be terrified, but this one just smiled back at him.

Piccolo sighed in annoyed defeat. There was no scaring this one. “I called you a silly boy last night in my language, that was all.”

“What part of it means silly?”

“Himefinnew. It is a single word that means a silly child.”

“You can call me Himefinnew any time you want, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said grinning, with what few teeth were left.”

Piccolo reached his hand out and grabbed Gohan’s head, then gently spun him around. “Let’s just keep it Finnew for short, got it?”

“Yes, sir! Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said happily.

Piccolo suddenly punted the screaming boy high into the air. “Never turn your back on the enemy!” Piccolo shouted, jumping after him to start the day’s training.

~~***~~

Three months later…

“Hey guys!” Bulma shouted, holding her phone in one hand and waving with the other, “Dad says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes with the two cargo planes to take us to my place!”

“Does it really take this long to traverse your own planet?!” Vegeta snapped. “This planet is puny judging by its gravity!”

Bulma put her hands on her hips. “Oh, stop complaining, homeboy. It hasn’t even been an hour yet.”

“An hour?!”

Everyone glanced at the arguing couple before returning to their own conversations.

Piccolo glared ominously as Gohan was speaking with Dende and three young adults. They were laughing at each other’s bad accents while speaking each other’s languages. “He” knew that the three couldn’t speak properly and that the laughter was not genuine. “He” knew ‘teenagers’ when he saw them, the old word suddenly sounding like he heard it for the first time, even though it was spoken with “his” own mind’s singular voice.

It had only been a few hours and these sensations were getting old fast.

“(Hey there),” a Namekian came up to him awkwardly in their native tongue. “(How are you doing, after… everything)?”

Piccolo sighed. “(I)”, he stressed, “(am fine… Lumache. Really. Go comfort the others who are taking Guru’s death badly.)”

Lumache smiled relieved, but his face quickly changed to confusion. “(Are you sure? You’re speaking with a bit of a lisp.)”

Piccolo smirked. (It’s the accent here on Earth. I doubt ‘Kami’ will be coming down from his ‘high horse’ to meet any of you. But this is how we speak here.)”

Lumache tilted his head concerned. “(Is this ‘Kami’ another aboriginal like the pet?)”

“(Gohan is no pet)”, Piccolo said, barely containing his rage. “(And ‘Kami’ is…)” he paused. “(… the name of my egglayer’s hatchmate.)”

Lumanche raise his finger, “(But… ‘Kami’ is not a Namekian name.)”

“(I know, but his name is Kami. So get used to it.)”

Lumache bent his raised finger. “(And he was also called a… ah…)” he hesitated looking for the right words.

Piccolo smirked. “No, his name was Namekian and I will be using it going forward. That was the deal.”

Lumache sighed relieved with a thankful grin across his face, “(Oh, that goodness. I was worried, dear brother.)”

Piccolo was feeling both a little bad but also waiting in great anticipation to laugh at his reaction when the conversation with the teenagers got loud. He turned his full attention back to Gohan and Dende.

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, then bent his elbow as he balled his fist.

~~***~~

Moments earlier…

The teenager in the middle of the trio was making funny noises to the laughing of his two companions and the giggling of Dende.

Gohan, however, was being encouraging. “You’re getting close. Just find a soft spot near the top of your throat to click the area just behind the tip of your tongue against it.”

The teenager threw his hands up, and spouted what Gohan knew to be curses. “(This is bleep-ing ridiculous!)” he continued.

“(Don’t feel bad,)” Gohan said. “(I still can’t get *guttural sound with a secondary high pitch right afterwards* right. ‘Mr. Piccolo’ said he knows of a few ‘human’ languages with the sounds happening at the same time and that after the fighting we could look into ‘throat singing’ together.)”

The one on the teenager’s right chuckled. “(Yeah, and I’m sure this ‘Piccolo’ has been a big help since you speak with such a bad lisp.)”

“(He doesn’t have a lisp,)” Dende corrected. “(It’s just the accent of the people here. I’m told everyone speaks that way.)”

“(Dende,)” the one to the left shook his head. “(And the elders always say you were the smart one. Here you are believing everything a piccolo says.)”

“Dende,” Gohan whispered in English, “is there a word that’s also said as piccolo and not just a person’s name?”

Dended had a look of shock on his face. “You don’t—”

“(Dende, don’t bother,)” the teenager in the middle said. “(There’s no point learning this stuff.)”

“After everything that just happened, how can you say that?!” Dende said loudly, and in English.

The entire congregation went silent and turned to look at them.

As Dende started to whimper and Gohan wrapped his arms around him, the three knew they all looked bad.

“(Since you can’t say my name right,)” Gohan offered an olive branch, “(My teacher, ‘Mr. Piccolo’, calls me something when I’m being stupid. ‘Nickname’ doesn’t have a better translation than that.)”

Unknown to the youths, everyone’s sight was turned to the sudden fighting stance of the person all the Namekians but Dende knew only as Nail’s new Keeper.

“(Ok, ‘Hohan’, What’s this ‘Nickname’?)”

“(Himefinnew. He shortened it Finnew.)”

You could hear a pin drop.

~~***~~

Vegeta knew something was wrong instantly as his eyes scanned the clearing. This type of shock, disbelief, and the building rage so pungent it was tasteable on his tongue, this only came with something unforgivable. Vegeta enjoyed getting his prey to react like this. The resulting stupidity was entertainment on boring missions. Killing and eating children usually did the trick. Nappa didn’t even bother with the killing part first.

Vegeta smirked.

This wait just got a lot less boring.

~~***~~

“Gohan! Gohan, don’t say something like that!” Dende grabbed his armor and shook him. “Apologize!”

“What? Is… Is it actually a curse word?” Gohan said horrified as the possibility dawned on him. “Mr. Piccolo said it meant ‘silly child’.”

“Silly child?!” Dende looked over at Piccolo. “Has the meaning changed here?! Don’t you know what it means?!”

Suddenly, an adult came over and grabbed Gohan’s arm. He tried to bite his nails into his flesh, but they bent backwards instead.

Gohan barely had time to plant his feet when the man went suddenly flying through several trees.

Piccolo retracted his arm from the long punch and stormed over. “(Next person who touches that child joins Schnecke pulling splinters out of his tonsils!)”

“(How…)” “(Can we even do that?)” “(Did he just… extend his arm?)” were among the murmurs Gohan could make out. He also spotted several Namekians put their hands over their mouths and looked away, or even bending over at the waist.

Dende tugged on Piccolo’s pants leg. “How did you do that?” he whispered in English.

“(Don’t you dare teach something that barbaric and obscene to the hatchlings! You shame your role as a holy keeper to Na, eh?)” the Namekian paused. “(What even is your name, brother?!)”

“(He’s no brother! Brothers do not harm brothers! He attacked Schnecke!)”

“Why do they keep calling Mr. Piccolo ‘brother’?” Gohan whispered to Dende. “He’s from Earth? So was his father and Kami? They don’t have siblings.”

“Sib-lin?” Dende said confused. “I don’t know that word.”

Piccolo stood proudly, “(My name is Piccolo! Piccolo ‘Daimao’ the Second!” He slowly turned his head glaring into as many eyes as possible, “Heir to my dead egg layer, King Piccolo ‘Daimao’!)”

A pin drop could be heard again as Gohan looked around. All the Namekians had looks of horror on their faces. He kicked himself for being surprised.

“Gohan, what does ‘Daimao’ mean?” Dende whispered in English.

Gohan jerked his head. “Wha? You don’t? Then wha?” he stuttered. He began glancing around anxiously.

“Gohan what’s wr—”

Suddenly a Namekian fell to his knees screaming in anguish. “(Who names a child that?!)”

Piccolo stomped over screaming something so fast all Gohan could make out was Piccolo repeating his name over and over again, but judging by the adults scrambling to cover the children’s ears, he wasn’t old enough to learn a good portion of it.

Piccolo grabbed the Namekian by his collar and pulled him up. “(And if any of you touch Hime again…)” Piccolo extended his nails into long daggers, “(I’ll slice you apart so bad you can’t regenerate.)” He then shoved the man back on the ground and retracted his claws. “Hime!” he said walking swiftly over to Gohan. Piccolo put his hand on Gohan's head, gently turning and shoving him. “We’re leaving. Come on, boy,” he said in English.

Gohan stumbled briefly but quickly walked in step with him into the trees.

~~***~~

Vegeta was disappointed that the show seemed to be over after those two had vanished into the woods, but their energy seemed to still be close by. Suddenly Dende broke the awkward silence by running after them. The others began to shout before the old one the dead Namekian had placed hands on shouted something that made the others stop before he walked after Dende.

Vegeta turned to stalk them when he looked at the Earth woman who had turned at the exact same moment.

They looked at each other surprised before the woman gave an oddly devious smile, took two steps ahead then turned and pointed at him before repeatedly bending that finger. Vegeta took the strange gesture as an invitation to follow and the two disappeared unnoticed.

~~***~~

“Mr. Piccolo, what was that about? What happened there? Why was everyone mad at me? What did—”

“Not now, Gohan. They can still hear us.”

Gohan looked behind them.

“My ears are not for show,” Piccolo answered his thoughts.

Suddenly Piccolo looked behind them as well.

Soon Gohan heard it too.

“Wait! … Gohan, wait!” was heard softly in the distance.

Then came the rapid footsteps.

Dende burst through the trees stopping in front of them. He placed his hands on his knees panting. “Wait… Wait for me…”

Piccolo sighed. “Fine… you can come too,” he said annoyed. He began walking briskly again. “Hurry.”

“Yes,” Gohan quickly got in step.

Dende jogged out of breath behind them.

~~***~~

Piccolo eventually stopped and leaned against a tree. “Ok, this is far enough,” he sighed. He sat on the ground.

“Mr. Piccolo, what happened? Why was everyone mad at me?”

Piccolo sighed. “Gohan… from what I taught you about my language, break down Himefinnew into its parts.”

“Um…” he thought, “Finnew is the third person singular to finir, which means to find something funny, so… Hime is the part that means boy. I find the boy funny, or Silly boy like you first said.”

“Dende, quiet,” Piccolo said cutting him off. He looked back at Gohan. “Now Gohan, tell me the difference between the words red and crimson.”

Gohan paused. “They are both two words that mean the same color?”

“Yes, but there is a difference. Do you know why the word red is almost always used while crimson is not?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Crimson specifically means the color of human blood. To call something crimson is to compare it to blood. Now answer that question.”

“Blood is scary?”

Piccolo smiled, “Exactly.”

“So Hime is a scary version of boy?”

“What?! No!”

“Dende quiet,” Piccolo snapped.

Dende looked down.

Piccolo sighed.

“Gohan, what I’m trying to say is that many words have a hidden meaning. Like crimson is scary. Hime is… I… it…” Piccolo’s face and ears tinged purple. He covered his face with one of his hands. “Gah… what I’m trying to say is… Gohan…

“So you named the child but never told him? Were you ever going to tell him?”

“Elder Moori!” Dende said as the old Namekian walked out of the trees.

Piccolo shot up as his color deepened. “This is a private conversation!”

Moori gave a knowing smile to the adult blushing like a child being caught being naughty. He looked at Gohan. “So tell me Himefinnew, did Piccolo place his hands on your head and say ‘Sebnek yemtaw’ when he named you, or…”

Gohan started nodding before he finished.

“I see…” He looked at Piccolo, “I don’t know how significant it is with our kin on Earth, but for Namekians the naming ceremony is an important step in a child’s life. We do not name at hatching but let the child grow until it becomes apparent what his name is, like Dende here,” he looked at him, “Dende literally means ‘He writes in stone’. We named him that because he can memorize and repeat anything he hears perfectly.”

“And Nail means humility,” Dende said looking up at Piccolo.

Moori snickered, “Nail was not happy when he was named that by Guru. You don’t know this Dende, but Nail was actually very arrogant as a youth. He was sent to live Guru not because he was virtuous, but because he was a delinquent.”

Dende’s jaw dropped.

Moori looked at Piccolo, “Nail never lost that fire despite him learning to outwardly behave. I was greatly worried for you, but after everything that just happened…” he walked over and put his hand on piccolo’s shoulder. “I know you two will make a fine man once everything settles down in a few hours. Only a man with the pride in his name like that could embrace him fully and not be ashamed of his lesser instincts,” then he smiled knowingly, “Isn’t that right ‘Daimao’?”

“You know what that means, elder?” Dende asked.

Moori took his hand off Piccolo’s shoulder and looked down at him, “Yes I do. It’s a word that means the unpleasant part of all of us, like arrogance,” he glanced at Piccolo, “Or anger.” He looked back down, “While ‘Kami’ is the nice things about us, like friendship and loyalty.”

“But they are both words like crimson, right?” Dende asked.

He nodded. “Yes, they both have a special connotation that makes them very rare. Even the adults don’t know those words.” Moori looked down at his hands. “Even I… did not know those words until a little while ago.”

Dende nodded understanding.

Moori extended his hand. “Come with me, Dende. Let the ‘titim’ and ‘hime’ talk alone.” Then he turned in a random direction. “That goes for you two as well!”

“What?! How did you know we were here?!”

“You stupid bitch! Don’t you know how to keep your stupid mouth shut!”

“I am not a stupid bitch, you—”

Piccolo grumbled putting his hand over his face again.

Moori smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be able to relearn your awareness. Nail was always too easy to sneak up on.” He took a step then stopped, “It may not be my place to say, Daimao, but maybe losing some of your suspiciousness would be a good thing. It can be lonely as a piccolo no matter where your home is.”

He took Dende’s hand and left.

Piccolo sighed as the volume of the argument coming from the trees rose up several notches.

“So… we’ll be talking later, right?” Gohan asked, looking in the direction of the screaming.

Piccolo chuckled, “Yeah… … Actually, Gohan,” he knelt and whispered in his ear.

~~***~~

10 minutes later at the clearing, a large box-shaped plane touched down.

Dr. Brief hopped out.

“Daddy!” Bulma ran over.

“There’s my baby girl!” They hugged. “Phew. Oh boy, I’ll call your mother and make sure you have a nice bubble bath waiting with lavender candles.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Hey! I thought you said two transports! That’s only one!” Vegeta shouted pointing.

Dr. Brief pulled out what looked like a grenade from his pocket and threw it a good distance away. Suddenly an identical craft appeared in a puff of smoke.

Vegeta gritted his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping.

Bulma threw open the passenger side door, “Come on, Homeboy! Come ride in the cockpit with me!”

Vegeta stiffened and clinched his fists. “As if I’d spend another second listening to your prattle!”

Then sit in the back with the friends of the people you killed for three hours, you jerk!”

“I’ll ride with the old man!” he looked at Dr. Brief to see him already talking with Dende.

“Sorry, sonny! The kid’s beat you to it!”

Vegeta bristled. “Fine!” he stormed over and shoved her out of the way. He climbed in and slammed the door.

“Jerk,” she said, wiping the grass off her. Bulma turned to the group as her father dropped the cargo ramp on his plane. “Ok everyone! Load up so we can finally get out of the bugs!”

Piccolo helped everyone find a seat, the elders and children bucketed on the benches while the teenagers and adults sat on the floor. Gohan did the same for the other plane.

Gohan came around to Bulma’s window.

She rolled it down.

“Everyone’s in over here. I'm going to ride with Mr. Piccolo in the other plane.”

“Ok, Gohan.” Bulma rolled up the window.

On the other side, Piccolo was talking to Dr. Brief.

“Everyone is ready. I’ll be with Gohan in the other plane.”

“Okey Dokey. See you when we land,” Dr. Brief smiled.

The Briefs watched Gohan and Piccolo walk over and disappear behind the other plane in their side mirrors. After a brief rock that felt like someone climbing in, the two rear doors closed.

As the two planes flew away, Piccolo and Gohan floated in the air watching them, having flown up after rocking the plane to avoid being seen on the ground after takeoff.

Gohan had his hands over his mouth stifling a giggle.

Piccolo grinned. “Deceit is fun, isn’t it Gohan?”

“Yes, don’t tell Mom I said so.”

“Secret’s safe with me.”

The two dropped their arms and sighed at the same time. Then they looked at each other.

Piccolo dropped to the ground first, Gohan landing moments later.

“Ok… We’re were we…” Piccolo said slowly.

“Actually, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said looking up.

Piccolo looked down.

“Could you tell me what you were saying when you were screaming your name? Besides the bad words, I mean. You spoke too fast. I… got the part where you threatened to chop him up, though.”

Piccolo sat down, “This… is going to be… just about as hard to explain as Hime is actually…”

Gohan looked down, “Oh…”

“Sit down, Gohan.”

Gohan sat down mimicking Piccolo’s legs position.

He halfheartedly smiled, then sighed. “Gohan… ‘Piccolo’ has a very specific meaning, and in fact wasn’t even a name until Kami called out, ‘I banish all that is abhorrent! Piccolo!” when they cleaved. Did you know how they were born?”

“A person ripped in two and became all good and all bad. But you’re not all bad, Mr. Piccolo.”

“Gohan, the ability to care for a child is a biological function. It has nothing to do with good or bad. My father felt every one of my brother’s die by your father’s hands just as much as Guru felt Frieza rip their lives away one by one.”

Gohan gasped softly.

“You didn’t know about my brother’s, did you?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Gohan. You know how babies are made, right?”

“A mommy and daddy each take half a small piece of themselves that can’t live alone, stick them together to make a new person then the mommy either grows them in their tummy or lays an egg and they grow in there until they hatch, right?”

“That is how things work on Earth,” he nodded. “But that does not work for Namekian’s like me.” He adjusted his position. “We don’t have both mommies and daddies. There is only one kind. We take a whole piece of ourselves, already alive, and place in an egg to grow again. That is why we feel the deaths of our children, because literally a piece of us has died.”

“What does this have to do with your name?”

“Because ‘piccolo’ means anything that is not part of us. Born from us. Is. Us. But like red and crimson, Piccolo is saved for special things, like an alien planet and the people who lived there. You are a piccolo, even if people won’t say it to your face.”

Gohan looked down, “And anything piccolo is abhorrent, right?”

Piccolo put his hand on Gohan’s head. “Not everything.”

“What…” Gohan started sniffling, “What did you say?”

“I was born on an alien world. I was raised as an alien. I am an alien. There are many other words I could have used to convey that, but using my name was just me beating it into their thick skulls without using my actual fists.”

“Being able to defeat your opponent without ever needing to touch them is just as big a part of war as actually fighting hand to hand combat.”

“Correct. If you weren’t such a goofball, there would probably be two Dende’s right now.”

Gohan gave a quick few laughs, then when quiet.

Piccolo waited silently for him to speak.

He waited a very long time.

“Mr. Piccolo…” Gohan finally started, but never finished his thought.

“Say what you are thinking Gohan,” Piccolo ordered, “Nothing you can say will ever make me mad. I have a thick skin.”

“Do… Do I… Do I have two grandfathers now…” he glanced up at his face, “that are kings?”

Piccolo smiled, showing his teeth.

Gohan gasped. Piccolo swore his eyes were sparkling.

Piccolo sighed and closed his eyes. He raised his finger. “One time. This one ti— ACK!”

Gohan flung his arms around Piccolo’s neck and knocked him flat on his back.

“Oofff,” he said, having the wind knocked out of him.

“Titim. Titim.” Gohan kept repeating, now crying in his ear.

Piccolo sighed and looked up at the clouds. He then suddenly raised his arms and gave two middle fingers to the sky.

Even thirty miles below, he could hear the laughing.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Boggie cuddles featuring Luke just flopping onto Alex unprompted cause he feels left out

first of all i love u second of all this got away from me and turned into a luke character study what else is new. this is essentially a snippety sequel to maybe you find it stuck in your molars but a) you don’t need to read molars to understand this i don’t think and b) idk if it’s good enough to put on ao3 so have it here at least haha maybe i’ll change my mind.

as in molars: luke in this is trans, and ambiguously ace/aro spec. warning for some pretty mild transphobia.

--

The feeling of fighting with his mom makes the back of Luke’s neck prickle and his hands hurt. He feels so dumb about how angry he is, that even after the whole length of the bike ride to Bobby's, Luke still has the urge to stomp the ground and throw his helmet down when he stops. The only thing stopping him is his mom's words still ringing in his ears, that he's certainly acting like a teenaged boy, throwing a tantrum like that. He still drops his bike, almost pettily, to hear it clatter to the ground.

The rational part of his brain, however small and puny, knows she probably meant he was acting stupid and hot-headed. Which maybe he was. If she meant anything else, why would she have supported him so far? They were fighting about the band, like always, not his gender.

But the cold ice-pick of fear in his heart keeps going over "acting like a boy" over and over and over, acting like, as in not really—

He shakes it off and takes a few deep breaths. Puts his hands behind his head, elbows out wide, and closes his eyes. Just breathes. Knows he can't go into the studio with that kind of energy, or he'll psych Reggie out.

"Luke?"

It's Alex, at the door. He must have heard Luke drop his bike. The sight of him — fingers curled around the doorframe, messy hair in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed — immediately loosens whatever ugly tight feeling was building in Luke's chest. His denim jacket has slipped off one of his shoulders, and he looks so soft and warm. Like safety and home and acceptance. Like he's looked Luke's whole life.

"Hey, Lex," he says, and it comes out a little breathless, but he tries to play it off as just being from the bike ride. "Sorry I'm late."

"Are you..." Alex begins, but he must see Luke flinch, because he blatantly changes direction mid-sentence, "... gonna come in? Bobby got pizza."

Luke's stomach growls, absolutely without his permission, and Alex laughs, rolling his eyes and beckoning Luke to follow him, as if Luke wouldn’t follow Alex into the depths of hell without looking back.

The studio takes another layer of distress off Luke's shoulders. It's dimly lit at this time of day, just past sunset, and Bobby's guitar and Reggie's bass have been propped up on the ground rather than their stands, which means they were playing before Luke arrived.

Bobby and Reggie are curled up together on the couch, both munching away at slices of pizza, and Reggie's in Bobby's lap, which momentarily startles Luke. Not because they're cuddling (the most run-of-the-mill Sunset Curve activity possible) but because it reminds him that things have changed.

To be fair, he's doing a good job adjusting. Bobby and Reggie dating might have thrown him for a loop at first, but he's getting his head around it. He's at the point now where he can handle hearing Reggie talk about when he and Bobby went out last week, without being totally consumed by without us? Was it a date? and feeling nauseous. The way Bobby looks at Reggie no longer makes him feel squirmy, even if he does still find it confusing.

And they're two of his favourite people in the entire world. So if they're happy, he's happy. Seeing them cozied up and warm and eating actually makes Luke feel better than he did a moment ago.

Kinda makes him wish he was cozied up too, though. Just without all the other... stuff.

"Hey, Luke!" says Reggie cheerfully, his cheeks a little flushed and a smile pulling across his face, but his mouth is completely full of pizza so it sounds more like "Eeuke!"

Bobby's nose wrinkles in amusement, Alex's in mild disgust, but neither of them say anything about it, and Luke doesn't care because Reggie looks so relaxed and happy, simply says, "Hey, Reg. Bobby."

To his relief, neither of them ask why he's late. He can't tell if it's because they're being considerate, or if it's because they're totally absorbed by the pizza. He's happy with it either way. Bobby gives him a little nod, and then shuffles as Reggie tucks his head under Bobby's chin, Bobby's hand coming to rest on the sliver of Reggie's hip that's exposed by his t-shirt riding up.

Luke's chest hurts. Not in an actually bad way, like it used to before top surgery, when he'd worn his binder for too long. Just in a feelings way. Not that he knows what that feeling is, what he's meant to call it. It's not jealousy of Bobby and Reggie. He doesn't want to have whatever this different thing is that they have, can barely identify it between the lines when he looks for it.

He just wishes he was being held like that, and wishes he didn't constantly feel like he has to prove himself to people all the time, and wishes he could feel included, somehow, without interrupting them.

When Alex slumps back into his own seat on the couch, Luke can't stop himself. Unceremoniously, he flops across Alex's lap, too, and reaches for a slice of pizza before Alex can properly finish scoffing, Alex’s arms coming around his waist by instinct to stop him overbalancing and toppling to the floor.

"What the — dude, get off me!" Alex insists, but his voice has none of the sharp edge that it would if he actually meant it, if this was one of those times where Alex needed not to be touched. Luke grabs a piece of pizza in each hand and shimmies his way back up to seated, nose inches from Alex’s. Offers him the other piece with a bright grin.

This feels better. Alex grumbles, but takes a bite out of the pizza Luke held in front of his face, and the last of Luke’s bad feelings melt off him. Bobby and Alex start chatting about something — gig planning stuff, or a phone call Bobby had with some guy his brother knows who might be able to do some professional-looking photos for them on the cheap.

Alex is as warm and cuddly as he looked, and Luke rests his cheek on Alex’s shoulder to eat, still feeding Alex periodically with his other hand so that Alex doesn’t have to move more than necessary, and zones out of their conversation. He’s eating, and he’s getting cuddled, and he’s with his favourite people.

When they finish their food, they’ll probably have a more chill jam session than normal, full stomachs so no jumping around. Maybe he can run through his latest new draft with them. Get Alex to come up with a rhythm. See Reggie’s eyes light up as he plucks the bassline for the first time. Have Bobby try a few different harmonies, just to see what works.

Alex’s hand runs up and down Luke’s back once, smooth and solid, and Luke can’t help but melt into him, couldn’t do anything else if he tried. His ankle bumps Reggie’s and Reggie meets his eyes, grins just slightly, bumps back so their feet stay pressed together, Luke’s toes tucking under Bobby’s thigh. Bobby doesn’t even complain. Luke nudges his nose against Alex’s throat and mutters, “Love you guys,” and they all say it back without a single pause, without the slightest hesitation in the world.

--

now on ao3 as well

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 28

First time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Hulk interaction Hulk interaction Hulk interaction. Plot is thickening. Feelings. Operation Baby Thief! A wild Coulson appears. Lokireader besties <3 There's just a lot going on.

Bruce hulked out within minutes of my confession.

As I stood in the middle of the common room, partially hidden behind Loki and scrunching the fabric of my hoodie, I had no choice but to observe the reactions of various Avengers to the fact someone might have... Predictably, Sam, Tony and Stephen looked like kicked puppies. I trusted Loki to handle that part. Steve, Bucky and Natasha had murder on their mind and Thor, Pietro just stared at me, aghast.

I noticed the tinge of green before anybody else, perhaps, because I'd been used to automatically seek comfort from Bruce. My interactions with Hulk, however brief and few and in-between, were positive. As much as they could be with a someone's alter-ego that possessed the emotional intelligence of a twelve year old. So I could safely say that what startled me was the noise of Bruce transforming and not the Hulk himself.

The Hulk growled, zeroing in on me - I remembered of Loki, who stood frozen, and their mutual disregard. The decision was prompt - I stepped out from behind the Asgardian, waving shyly at the large green creature. He was LARGE. Like, I could comfortably sit on one of his shoulders.

"Hey, Hulk. I'm alright, don't worry big guy," I took unhurried steps towards the agitated creature. He seemed to be satisfied with my statement, giving me another once over and growling quietly in the back of his throat. An idea struck me: "Wanna get out of here? The gym has more space, we can sit and talk there."

The stares I was getting were downright incredulous. Here I was, an average human being, fearlessly making my way over to the destruction machine that was the Hulk. I knew he wouldn't hurt me - on purpose.

"No," He growled. "We find bad man. Then Hulk smash." The green creature raised, I had to admit, valid points.

"It's going to be pretty boring though. We have to sort through the security footage, then probably traffic cams, then hold Steve back from going in there in Terminator mode..." I listed off all the logical steps of the investigation until I reached the Hulk. My neck was going to get a crick in it from tilting it so I could see his face. "I'd rather..." I didn't get to finish my sentence as I was suddenly picked up. One large hand gently cradled me to Hulk's chest, akin to a kitten, the other hand landing right under my butt.

I heard a collective exhale from the team, acutely aware of the way they were eyeing me and Hulk.

"Boring," The green creature agreed. His face briefly contorted in what I perceived to be an intense thought process. "Necessary." The word had to come from Bruce; it slipped out with difficulty off the Hulk's tongue, stiff.

"Not you too, big guy," I giggled-slash-groaned, giving a playful slap to the hand wrapped around me. "Fine. Let's get this over with." I looked around in search of a spot for Hulk to park his butt somewhere. The ceiling was barely tall enough for him to comfortably stand.

I needn't have worried as he simply sat down cross-legged right where he stood, still holding me to his chest. "Now," He announced, looking expectantly at Tony.

The engineer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, you're right, big guy. Let's find this sonuvabitch." Tense snorts and sounds of agreement filled the room, drowning out the noise of Tony tapping on his keyboard and communicating with Friday.

I poked Hulk in one green, large finger. "Maybe I could sit on your shoulder?"

He nodded, letting me crawl all over his green, hard chest and arms to sit on the large expanse of his left shoulder. It was comfortable as far as shoulders go; inwardly, I squeed like a mad woman. I was friends with the Hulk and I was sitting on his shoulder! Lost in my fangirling, I absentmindedly began messing with his dark hair, only noticing it when satisfied rumbling started coming from his chest. The Hulk was... Purring?

"Puny Banner upset," Hulk declared shortly after the team found the man who drugged me and started tracking his movements. It wasn't someone who'd been invited to the party, which meant there was a serious security breach - it was all hands on deck kind of situation.

"Yeah, I can understand that. I'm pretty upset too, the hangover I got was terrible, I threw up in Loki's apartment," I said, frowning. "And my boys are going to mope now," I rolled my eyes.

"Banner says he will talk with them," Hulk replied, placing hand over my legs. "Hulk will help Banner."

I couldn't help it, I snorted. "Gonna smash some common sense into them?" He grinned at me, too mischievous for someone who was described to be a mindless destruction machine. "I think they're beyond that."

"I can hear you two talking shit about me and I do not appreciate it," Tony piped up suddenly, shooting us a hurt look. To be fair, his shoulders looked considerably less tense and the cloud over his face had dissipated by a little bit. Me and Hulk managed to erase at least some of the guilt away. I think. Stephen, however, still remained frowning and closed-off.

"You're stupid, Tony." Hulk answered, sounding a little bit smug. I gaped at the exchange together with Natasha and Steve. It seemed like Hulk's sense of... Humor was a novelty.

"Hey, don't pick on my dumbass white boys," I chastised the green... Man, side-eyeing him. "Only I can pick on them. If someone else does it, I'mma throw hands if I have to."

"Puny," Hulk replied petulantly, poking me with a finger, making me sway in my spot. I rolled my eyes fondly, settling in to mess with his hair again for the sake of having something to do with my hands. The brief exchange helped to get my overactive brain off the case but the tranquility didn't last very long.

Natasha and Bucky left to interrogate the guards responsible for the security breach, Loki shooting me an apologetic look and following the two. I smiled back, knowing the Asgardian wasn't fully comfortable being around the Hulk due to his previous experiences with the big guy.

"Wait, hold on. That guy. I know that guy." As an array of faces appeared on the large screen, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes stared at me from it. Hulk tensed under me and the team turned towards me expectantly as I shrunk slightly under their combined gaze. "The one with anisocoria - with the weird eyes. He works at a coffee shop near my school, actually he only started working recently, few months ago. He tried to flirt with me but Peter said he felt weird about the guy so I stopped going to that café." I explained the situation as eloquently as I could, seeing Clint's eyes widen at my story.

"Are you sure?" Stephen Strange raised an eyebrow. "Because that man is a mercenary that we have been looking for months."

I felt my heart skip a beat. "A what now?" My ears were ringing. Hulk growled quietly under me, evidently sensing my distress.

"A hired man," Clint typed on his phone rapidly. "Mostly sells not-so-harmless trinkets on the black market. Hydra, AIM, you name it. Anything for the highest bidder." Clint muttered. "I'm calling Peter, maybe he can tell us something more. This is an Avengers level threat." The Hawk's jaw was firm and his face was hard.

"Already on it," Tony looked shaken. I understood him - someone like that had invaded his tower, his home. Hell, I myself felt like someone had spit right in my soul. It was my home, too, to some extent.

"Let me down please, Tony needs a hug," I whispered to the Hulk, who begrudgingly did as I requested. I padded over to Tony, wrapping myself around him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He always was my comfort; expensive cologne and motor oil filled my senses as my arms clutched at his chest from behind. I didn't expect reprocitation - Tony wasn't the one for emotional vulnerability.

"He could have gotten you," He whispered, almost inaudibly, fingers shaking where they typed rapid-fire commands.

"Bold of you to assume I would have gone down without a fight," I answered as calmly as I could. "He is either dumb, or reckless or has nothing to lose. Planning a coup in the middle of your tower..."

"Or he's showing us that he can just do that," Clint supplied unhelpfully. "The guard who let him in just has been found dead and his family is missing. Natasha texted, she's calling in SHIELD. This is now Operation Baby Thief."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped my lips. "Baby Thief, really?"

"Nobody's stealing Princess," Tony barked, finally turning his head and pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek. "Not if I have to do anything with it."

"I will make sure the pathetic mortal scum never walks," Thor finally piped up, voice low. In the distance, the harsh noise of thunder and pouring rain echoed through the city.

I frowned but withdrew from Tony, finally feeling well enough to do something. My hands itched to help and as appealing as snuggling with Hulk appeared, my brain had gone straight into overdrive. "Should we take a blood sample to find out what he dosed me with? It's not Roofies, and the hangover is too shitty for it to be anything like Ecstasy." I mused out loud, pacing in the small space between the Hulk and the nearest wall.

"That is a sensible idea," Doctor Strange piped up, giving me an appreciative look. "We'll wait for Romanoff," One angry look at his own scarred, shaking hands, Stephen went back to the book he was reading. He needed a hug, too, I decided.

"Puny Banner will do it," Hulk suddenly announced, reaching out for me.

I obliged, giving the green giant a hug. "Maybe we can go play in Central Park once it's warmer, whatcha think?" I looked up at him, brain just so full of different things. Ideas bounced off one another like ping pong balls.

The Hulk grinned and... Well, I didn't see the transformation, my eyes shut themselves as soon as I felt the flesh under my palms begin to shrink and expand. It wasn't that I was afraid, rather, the feeling was so bizarre that my racing brain had to automatically shut down in fears of being overstimulated.

"Hi," Bruce supplied meekly, an adorable blush staining his cheeks. I didn't resist the urge to kiss and hold him close, and we stood there with him holding up his pants with one hand and clutching my hoodie with the other until Tony cleared his throat.

"You good, Brucie-bear?" The engineer gave a distracted smile towards us, not taking his eyes off the keyboard.

"Yes, Tones," The scientist replied easily, adding with a frown: "I'm glad me and Hulk finally agree on something." With that, he departed in the search of normal pants and the tools needed to acquire my blood sample.

I gave it without much fuss, waving to Bucky, Natasha and Loki that had returned with a middle-aged, balding man in tow. The shared look of amusement between Steve and Bucky and the man's starry-eyed look towards the Captain let me deduce it was one Agent Coulson, the very same man Tony couldn't stop telling stories about, the one with the Captain America trading cards.

So, mayhaps, me taking place in Stephen's lap while Bruce filled up three whole vials full of my blood wasn't exactly the smartest way to go about it. Tony found it amusing, Steve was shaking his head in fond annoyance and Stephen himself struggled to maintain his indifference, yet, the blush betrayed him.

"Agent, what brings you to our humble abode?" Tony snorted, seeing the man raise an eyebrow at the display of affection.

"Operation Baby Thief," Coulson replied with a sigh. "I see the Baby is secure. Keep it that way." Oh, the man was cheeky. I liked him already.

"The Baby has a Tony, a Sorcerer Supreme and a Hulk," I retorted haughtily. "And a functional brain. Fuck that guy."

"Indeed," Coulson snorted. "Tell me, what do you know about the Hamptons incident?"

I blanched, immediately tensing. Bruce withdrew the needle and pressed a bandage over the wound, running gentle fingers over my arm. Everybody must've noticed my surprise, turning to me with their faces full of expectation. Stephen's touch was calming, slightly trembling at the nape of my neck.

"Not much, to be honest. I was about thirteen when it happened and my mother tried to hide it from me," I chewed on my lip, looking away. "What I managed to find out is that there was a robbery that resulted in two deaths, my father being one of the suspects because he was high as hell on coke and he was found sleeping in the same room as the open gun safe," I recalled the memories of mother angrily screaming at dad, calling her law firm colleagues late at night. "I don't need a law degree to know the evidence was flimsy. Dad got a drug charge, his buddies got the same and both the killer and the gun were never found." I exhaled loudly, tapping my foot on the floor, supressing the need to pace.

Coulson nodded, opening a thin manila folder and producing an image of a small, wooden box with carvings that looked like runes on it. "Have you seen this object?"

I felt my blood run cold, my vision swam. "Yes," I swallowed dryly. "That's my end-of-the-world box. I buried it in my grandparents' backyard two years ago."

"End of the world?" Coulson asked, alarmed. "Did you open it?"

"No," I shook my head negative. "I found it in my room at one point and every time I looked at it, it felt... Wrong. Like it was a glitch in a computer game. I couldn't sleep, so I stuck it in my closet and that gave me terrible nightmares and sleep paralysis. I took it with me when I went to visit Gramps and buried it three feet deep under the cherry tree." My hands were shaking once again; I had forgotten about the box but my body remembered the primal, untameable terror that I experienced in it's proximity. At fourteen years old, I just thought I had an overactive imagination or something, too many horror movies, hormonal storms.

"That is a magical artifact," Stephen's voice was quiet and concerned. "A very dangerous, destructive at that. How long were you in it's presence?"

"About nine months, give or take."

"And you didn't open it once, not even a little bit?" Tony had caught on the trend, almost a hysterical edge to his voice.

"No, and I think I know why," I looked to the side. "I saw Wanda on the TV, and, like, magic was confirmed to be real, so I guess I was sure whatever is in there, it wasn't good. During that time, my parents told me I was sleepwalking but I can't remember any of it. I might have wanted to get that box to someone of your... Specialty," I briefly messed with the sleeve of Stephen's shirt, exhaling loudly when his hand grasped mine and held it with care. "I think that box messed with my head... Because I swear that I had no recollection of it until you brought it up," I realized suddenly, my eyes shooting up in blind panic. What else have I forgotten?!

"That is astonishing," Loki's baritone exclaimed. "Nine months is a long time to resist the pull of such a strong artifact." My best friend stated with a great deal of respect.

People in the room started talking all at once. Stephen and Tony declared I needed to get checked out by a professional - Tony meaning s doctor and Stephen meaning a healer of the magical kind; Bruce scooted over and pulled my frozen body in a solid hug; Steve and Bucky planned out to get the box from my grandparents' house, debating whether to take Loki or Thor with them; the SHIELD part of the team discussing the intel and further plans to catch the rogue mercenary.

The door opened quietly.

"Hi everybody, hello Mr. Stark," Peter was disheveled, his ratty backpack in one hand and an enormous sandwich in another. "Got here as fast as I could. What's up?"

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[bakugous-bitch-boi]

BNHA AND G/T STORY

So I wrote this back in January for Amino and thought "Hey I have a Tumblr now, why not post it there?" So yeah thats what I'm doing-

For reference the borrower in this story is my OC Thomas. He's not explicitly BNHA related but I just thought it'd be cool to see him in that universe so I slapped a quirk on him and did what I usually do with him.

Throw him into danger-

Anyways uh yeah so enjoy the short story- if enough people like this one I'll continue it and it can be a series UwU

————————————————————————

They were barely audible inside the colorfully decorated dorm room, the tiny steps only just being heard above the natural ambiance of the building's various series of ventilation. The source of the tiny steps was also similarly barely detectable, wirh the noise originating from the movement of a young borrower boy named Thomas who’s height only just reached a measly one inch. The boy also made sure to stay as low to the ground beneath him as he possibly could to eliminate the easy viewing of his silhouette against the cream colored wall behind him. Granted, the terrain the child was walking on was a flat one dotted with figures around three times his size at their smallest of a man he didn’t recognize, so their was ample space to hide in case the inhabitant of the room decided to return.

Thomas was used to this sneaking around, he had been doing it ever since he was born after all, it was just how borrowers made it in the world. However this time was different from every other living arrangement he had found himself in. His last travel companion had abandoned the young child in the bitter cold around a week ago, leaving the kid to fend for himself. It was something new for Thomas, and already seven days in he had made up his mind that he didn’t like it. The world had always appeared scary, again that was just a prerequisite for being a borrower born into a world where eighty percent of humans are born with the most terrifying abilities, however being near someone always managed to make it better for Thomas. Without that extra layer of an adult's protection, simple acts like going mere meters away from his hole-in-the-wall home seemed like the most daunting thing imaginable.

The child had tried his best to limit his borrowing activities due to this extra fear, however that was something a lot easier said than done. When Thomas had clambered inside the closest building for protection that stormy night, he quickly realized that no matter where he decided to make a home inside said structure he’d be without one resource or another. He found that the layout of the building was fairly simple, it was almost like a square ring that held a garden in its center with a open indoor room flanking this courtyard on the first floor which was followed by the floors above split into a hallway and several other smaller rooms, however no one place in the large building had everything he needed. His old traveling friends had shown him what objects were most essential to gather, and while some were easily found if he went to the right spaces like cloth or tape other’s like the basics of food and water were incredibly scarce no matter where he went. Or, in the areas where they could be found easily, they were guarded by “quirked” humans which essentially made them inaccessible unless he was able to wait for the human to leave. Some rooms were completely off limits in fact due to said quirked beings having particularly terrifying, in one case quite literally explosive, predispositions. This left Thomas’ options severely limited and obviously made his life ten times more difficult, however he had managed it so far and was able to get things down to a pretty consistent routine.

Thomas’ steps remained quiet and his body close to the ground as he reached his final source of resources for the day, after he grabbed this he would be able to try his best to fall asleep. Granted, this resource wasn’t necessary or even a particularly consistent one, however the child’s sweet tooth obviously couldn’t resist a lazily opened and forgotten chocolate bar when it was so close to his space inside the wall. He approached the candy from an untouched side still kept snuggly inside it’s wrapper, however tearing into said wrapping to get the freshest piece would make his presence incredibly obvious so doing so was completely out of the question. He was pushing his luck even going for the candy in general to begin with. His head swiveled towards the door as he slowly reached the opened side of the candy bar which lead him to leave the safe area behind the assorted colorful plastic figures and make his way out in the open. He noticed the sound of people approaching the room he had situated himself in, easily recognizing one of the voices as the teenage inhabitant of the space. His eyes grew as he heard the distinctive sound of speech, he had to make this as quick as possible. The fluffy haired borrower darted over to the exposed and somewhat mangled chocolate and bent down on his knees, his feet slipping the slightest bit on the slick wood of the dresser he had been sneaking around on. He grabbed a small piece of metal he had gathered in his travels from the sack strung over his shoulder which he then drove into a chunk of relatively untouched but still exposed chocolate. He used what little arm strength his young arms had built up to saw a lump of chocolate away from the rest of the bar which he then wrapped in a bit of shredded wax paper he had gathered from one of the rooms. He was quick about the whole action of cutting the chunk and then wrapping it up, so when he stood up and noticed that the voices were still firmly outside he was only a little surprised.

He took those few seconds of breathing room to look up at the wall behind him, his eyes trailing up the massive poster that spread across it which was slightly obscured due to his viewpoint. The poster was of the same man in a colorful outfit that the many figures and other posters in the room depicted, however despite him being so abundantly shown in the small space Thomas was always drawn to this one particularly large image. He didn’t know why, after all the sight of a human was hardwired in a borrower's brain to be like looking at death itself, but the aura the man gave off was similar to that of the adult borrowers he had been traveling with all six years of his life. Maybe it was just the smile of the man in the image or simply the colors he adorned himself with, but the past few seven days spent in the terrifying collection of horror filled rooms was made just a little brighter and easier when he was met with the warmth of this particular poster. His eyes were lost, so lost that the movement of him slinging the pack over his shoulder once more was slowed and without haste. As he looked up a childishly pure smile grew on his tiny face, a smile that was unaware of the motion of an opening door behind him and the sounds of rising voices and shuffling feet until the very last second.

When Thomas finally turned around after breaking himself away from the happiness of the poster, he was greeted with a sight that would take the smile off of even the most grizzled borrowers face. He saw the boy who inhabited the room standing in the doorway, and while his silhouette did not appear too imposing when considering the other people living in the building, he was still a human with a much more capable build than most typically had. At first Thomas’ heart hitched in his chest as he immediately assumed he was seen and therefore completely finished, however after a second of looking he noticed the boy was busily scrolling through his phone and thusly hadn’t noticed the tiny child staring at him in terror on his dresser. The tiny boy wasted no time after realizing he was safe, and with one push from his little legs he sprinted over to the zigzagging crack in the wall just big enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t focus on keeping hidden, he didn’t focus on staying quiet, all he saw in those few heart wrenching seconds was his sliver of hope and safety. As he ran he heard an audible “Hmm?” from the freckled green haired teen who had apparently noticed the sound of rushing tiny steps and the puny silhouette of a minuscule boy sprinting for safety. While he heard the sound, Thomas didn’t stop. He kept running, pushing his speed higher and higher with every step, determined not to get captured. While he tried his best to stay calm, his breath couldn’t help but quicken and tears managed to loosen from the corners of his eyes. He could see the gentle glow of his quirk beginning to activate around him through blurred teary eyed vision, however he managed to push down his body's instinctual urge to protect his young, fragile self so he could focus on getting back into his hiding spot.

He launched himself into the cracked space cutting through the wall, his body scraping against the tight jagged sides, tearing at his baggy self-made shirt and cutting up his skin. He didn’t care about the slight pain in that moment however, instead he was concerned with making sure it looked like absolutely nothing strange or out of the ordinary was happening behind the small hole in the wall. The child gathered himself and the few belongings he had before pushing them all against the side of the tight space just out of view from someone looking in, he himself sitting against the drywall with his head tucked into his folded arms to look as small and inconspicuous as possible. The inviting shine of his quirk appeared once more as he felt the teens presence just outside his miniature room, the thought of him peering in looking for an intruder to destroy with glee only forcing out more pitiful tears from the young boys eyes and the continued growth of his quirks effect. He stayed quiet however, not letting a sound slip from his tiny mouth as he waited for the teen to either pass him by or try and find a way to get to the quivering borrower.

After a few tense moments, the massive green haired teen reluctantly decided that the noise he had heard shuffling across his dresser was just in his head, leading him to walk off over to his bed. In the new, less pressured silence Thomas was able to let his rising emotions out as much as he wanted to in the form of quiet stuttering sobs. By this point his quirk had fully activated and created a bubble-like shield around him as it was supposed to do when he was in danger, and behind the glowing force field the tiny child tried to calm himself down as best as he was able to after his perceived brush with death. As his hands trembled he went to grab his makeshift pack, his fingers nimbly curling around the small wrapped piece of chocolate he had borrowed mere moments ago. He didn’t want to waste the sweet substance so quickly, however the poor kid rationalized that he was scared enough to deserve munching on the cocoa flavored chalk. He took small, feeble bites, only stopping to let loose another hiccuping sob.

After all, what was a tiny kid to do under such heart-stopping pressure?

[noocturnalchild]

Of Thieves and Poets

Paterson X original female character 

warning: bad language, mention of abuse, mention of death, light depiction of violence. 

Summary: The night falls on Paterson City, A mourning bus-driver-poet saves a thief from her victim’s clutches, Will that simple gesture of kindness change the course of both their lives?

All the passages in italic are from a William Carlos williams poem : These. 

Chapter 1 

*

The bus exhaled a death rattle. The stars twinkled far above the cloudy night sky, unperturbed in their eternity. His eyes scratched the deep purple of the firmament and his tired lungs liberated a shaky sigh.

The year plunges into night and the heart plunges lower than night.

It still happened; the face floating before his eyes, in the crowded streets, the hem of her dress in the wind, the tinkle of her laugh, the sparkle in her brown, warm irises. All six feet under.  

It still happened when he set the table for two, when he dusted her nightstand, hung her dresses in her wardrobe, ironed and still smelling faintly like her, cupcakes and paint.

Paterson’s hands squeezed the wheel.

 “Stupid bitch!”

A slap.

A strident scream.

 All six feet under.

 It had been a while since Paterson had applied the brakes with such force. With panicked eyes he followed the scene unraveling through his rear-view mirror. What seemed like a serious dispute broke out in the rear of his bus; a dozen of passengers circling someone, beating someone up, insulting someone Paterson couldn’t see but only hear.

Sky piercing mewls of an abused animal.

Six feet under. Paterson’s eyes hurt. Paterson wanted to go home.

“Stop the bus! Are you deaf? Stop the fucking bus now!”

His hands stiffened around the wheel, it was slick with his cold sweat. He stood up and the noises ceased. Long strides, clean shoes, stopped right above where her head rested.

She was clutching to the Rolex for dear life. Fragile little fingers shaking, blood on her knuckles and on her nails and on the bus floor.

“Dirty little thief!” The man shouted, eyeing Paterson with disdain and pride “about to dash off the next station.” “Right in the-”

“You broke her wrist.” Paterson cut off the bragging man, kneeling already at the side of the little sack of bones, wailing in pain.

“She stole my Rolex, sir, what was I supposed to do!? Thank her maybe?!” The man fumed, high pitched voice from hell.

The crowd hummed in agreement, Paterson closed his eyes.

“Please, I think it’s best if everyone regains their seats now. I… I have this in hand” Paterson gently slid the Rolex from a cold trembling grip as the other passengers dispersed. Noses returned to phones, fingers furiously tapping the screens, eager to tell, to collect. Pity and compassion for sale.

“Here sir, your watch” He didn’t spare a glance to the man who appeared to still have many things to say.  

Paterson stared at her bloody hand. The little thing sobbed quietly, curled on herself, head inside her arm, broken wrist on display. A damaged, cheap porcelain doll.

Dirt and stains on her pale blue jeans, holes and scratches on her thin white crop top, ribs like knives,  hair like a sad abandoned willow nest. No, a chiffon doll, crumbling under old garbage in a basement, where no child would ever find her again, alone to rot and disintegrate. Paterson’s eyes hurt.

“It’s not over, scumbag, I’m pressing charges. Next station, she’s going with me.” The man puffed his chest, over checking his Rolex, disgusted and haughty.

“She is not going anywhere” Paterson stood, mimicking the man attempt at “Mr Menace”. But Paterson was a natural; the man quickly understood that, retreated in his fake fur mantle. You’ve either got big mouths or big balls.

“Sir, you have your watch, she has a broken wrist. I think you are more than even”. Paterson didn’t even has to rise his voice.

The man chewed insults but, like the others, regained his seat at last. The bus driver poet, knew always how to keep discipline in his wheeled kingdom, a natural gift he was barely aware of.

Now silence was only cut by quiet sobs, muffled hip hop notes, neon lights whirring, and Paterson’s gentle rustling as he tried to gather the little woman. One big hesitant hand on her back, the woman shuddered, recoiled, and her injured hand jolted, another sob of agony.

“I’m not gonna hurt you”  

The poet’s eyes softened. She sensed kindness, maybe, because now her head straightened up, and Paterson looked at himself. Eyes so watery he could see his reflection, dark golden beryl, just like his. Bleeding little nose and chapped plump lips, little high cheekbones and a greasy dark fringe swallowing a sweaty forehead, and for a moment, Paterson wondered if he looked just like her, if people could see how he truly looked like, if people could see the tears of his soul and the bleeding of his heart. If they could see all the bruises and the wounds and the decay. If when they closed their eyes, they could see her name on the grave stone, like he did.

“…It’s all good, just try not to move your wrist… there, let me just help you a little” Paterson muttered as he gathered her like she was nothing. Not even the weight of one of his blue tip matches… It was a bit of a surprise, the complete absence of resistance, she was yielding, completely defeated. Empty stomach and empty pockets. He sat her far from the others, far in the back. Not a sound emitted from her. The bus emptied little by little, he took off his jacket, covered her. She looked like she could fit all her puny self inside the warm wool of it. From time to time he stole a glance at the dark shape through his rear-view mirror.

Finally, the last passenger got off the bus, and finally she spoke.

“No hospital, don’t take me to the hospital” Her words came scattered, little voice uneven, like her hair, he noticed now. It was short, wrongly cut, as if someone had taken a handful of it and started slicing, with a knife, with anger, and a desire to do harm.

The bus was quietly parked in its nest of steel and red bricks, and Paterson could attend to her, at last.

“Your wrist is broken” He stoically stated, hands in pockets, considering his options in the back of his mind.  

“I said no hospital, you dweeb” Her eyes sparkled with defiance. It was a strange way to thank someone, to say the least, but Paterson didn’t flinch.

White plastic bags rode with the wind, like mad ghosts. The crime rate rocketed in town, Paterson had before his eyes one of the little thugs that populated the underground, the run-down warehouses and the bridges flanks.

“I’ll ignore that. It’s the hospital or the precinct” He sounded sorry.

Paterson had bad bags under his eyes, fruit of many sleepless nights. After her passing, he refused to spend the night, alone in the blue bed. He changed his shifts to night hours. Sleeping the few hours before dawn on his sofa, their room a shrine to her memory.

“Fuck you”

“It’s the hospital then”

*

The ER wasn’t flooded that night. Paterson sat quietly, in the waiting room orange plastic chair, while a diligent doctor wrapped her wrist in a cast, scribbled antibiotics and painkillers, asked the routine questions, did the routine job.

Laura would be proud of him. Laura was smiling, sat beside him in her polka dotted dress, she was taking his cold hand in hers, her warm brown irises thanking him silently. Laura.

Now Paterson was standing behind the pharmacist counter, prescription in hand and she was the one sitting, quiet, wrist against her heart.

Mina. 24.

Just that. Cold black on white.

He forced himself not to imagine her lonely two syllable name carved on a gravestone.

 “Where do you live?”

The warehouses, the subways, the streets, the basements, the bridges flanks. The rat holes.

The silence became awkward once out on the wet tiles of the sidewalk. Paterson switching his weight from one long leg to the other, still holding the bag of medicines, Mina looking at the orange flickering of signalization lights, his vest still on her shoulders. She looked like a kid from a dystopian   future, from the 80’s science fiction novels he used to read.

“None of your business” She extended her valid hand, waiting, impatience in her big amber eyes.

“You need to eat, and a bath, and the doctor said—”

“I know twat! You’re not my dad, gimme the fucking bag and fuck off!”

Her chin was wobbling. Paterson spun on his feet and walked away. Stoic and tall. Damn him.

“Hey!”

She knew she should run to catch his wide strides.

Mina rarely realized a mistake when made, and as she tugged on his sleeve to make the gentle giant stop, she wasn’t sure either. Her judgment wasn’t to be trusted. Her mind was a mess, just like everything, just like her life and her wrist and her hair, just like her heart.

“Your… vest”

“I know, you can… you can keep it, my place is just ten minutes away”

“Ok, let’s go then.”

She smiled.

to an empty, windswept place without sun, stars or moon but a peculiar light as of thought

*

“Wouha! Dude your place is cool”

Mina was everywhere, inspecting the living space and the kitchen with round curious eyes.

He laughed.

Dude. No one called him dude since the campus days. Dude. That was different.

“I… I have chickens wings… some broccoli, apple pie…”

He fetched the leftover boxes from his fridge and proceeded to put them in plates to reheat, but the little sack of bones jumped on the apple pie first, two bites and only crumbles were left on the counter.

“Mhm…goohd” Mouth and cheeks still full, she slid the cold chicken wings plate into her lap and attacked the tender flesh like a starved panther.

Paterson stood there like a stranger in his own house. A bit out of breath by the chain of events. The situation starting to sink in his lonely mind.

His routine was all shaken. He felt funny. Didn’t know if it was good or bad or just…ordinary. Laura was looking at him with surprised eyes. Laura was looking at the girl with amused questioning eyes. Paterson shrugged.

She deserves another chance, everyone does, don’t they, honey?

[dekuscrybaby]

starry nights

pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

request: no, just felt soft for tsukki

word count: 2.5k+ words

warnings: fluff with barely any plot, a few curse words (?), unedited, maybe ooc tsukki, CHEESY AS HELL, the ending is booty bc i couldn’t find a way to end it

a/n: i wrote this as gender neutral as i could bc i’m a useless hetero so if something is not gn friendly pls let me know!

summary: who knew a stressful night could turn so soft with the help of a certain blonde?

after such a long day, there was nothing more you wanted than a nice relaxing evening before falling into a deep sleep.

the idea of finally getting home and showering after sweating at the boy’s volleyball practice, seeing as you were a manager, sounded amazing. what sounded even better was eating dinner and retiring to your room where you could listen to music in bed as you slowly feel yourself drift off into your dreams.

unfortunately, the only thing you received once you got home was a hard chair pressing uncomfortably into your bottom as you scribbled various formulas onto your notebook.

you were attempting to solve yet another dumb math problem that was assigned to you earlier that day, but you were finding that the results weren’t making any sense. they were far too large to be the correct answer. or were they too small?

you sighed frustratedly as your head began to pound and your butt was beginning to numb. you mentally reminded yourself to ask your parents for a comfier desk chair as soon as possible.

after another failed attempt at the stupid trigonometry problem in your textbook, you felt yourself begin to spiral. your muscles began to tense up and for some reason, your head felt like it was spinning, the pounding only getting stronger. the moment you found yourself struggling to breathe, you decided that it was time to take a break before things escalated any further.

you pushed yourself away from your desk to stretch for a little and to clear your head, hoping it’d be enough to finally let you solve the problem afterward. you might have also done it to get some blood flowing back in your ass, but that’s not the focus of this.

you paced around your room for a couple of minutes before you heard a slight buzzing sound in the room. halting your movement, you turned your head towards the sound and realized it was coming from your phone, which was lying in the middle of your bed.

walking over to your bed, you flopped yourself onto the soft mattress after taking your phone into your hands. upon realizing that your boyfriend was calling you, you clicked on the green accept call button and pressed the device to your ear.

“hey, what’s up?” you spoke as you made yourself comfortable on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals and holding it close to your chest.

“why haven’t you replied to me?” tsukishima grumbles quietly.

“uhh, i did? i’m literally speaking with you, aren’t i?” you raised an eyebrow even if he couldn’t see it.

“i’m talking about my texts, dumbass. i sent you like ten in the last fifteen minutes,” he sighed.

you pulled your phone away and glanced at your notifications, which only proved your boyfriend’s statement to be true. 

frowning slightly you turned your attention back to the call, “sorry, tsukki. i didn’t see your messages until right now.”

back in his own room, tsukishima could be found rolling his eyes at your lack of attention towards him. a quick glance at his alarm clock at his bedside had other worries streaming into his head.

“what are you doing that’s so important at this hour anyway?” the blonde questioned as he sat up on his own bed.

“homework, what else would i be doing?” you replied.

“i don’t know, maybe getting ready for bed? it’s almost ten pm, y/n. you need eight hours of sleep,” he scolded you.

“i know, i know. you remind me of that at least twice a week,” you grumbled halfheartedly.

tsukishima chuckled softly, knowing you were probably pouting at this point, “clearly i need to remind you more often since it’s not getting through your puny brain.”

the pout you wore grew even wider, just as tsukishima imagined it to, “hey, it’s not that puny!”

you could hear your boyfriend laugh a bit louder as you also say up on your bed, cradling the plush closer to your chest, “i don’t know, you come in pretty close to hinata and kageyama.”

“that’s far from the truth and you know it! we’re literally in the same class,” you huffed.

“that doesn’t mean much, sweetheart,” he teased you.

“fuck you,” you laughed softly.

“you wish,” he retorted playfully. “anyway, meet me at the park we pass by when i walk you home as soon as we get off the phone.”

“come again?” you questioned. not really believing what you were hearing, you got out of bed for some reason believing that being up would tell you your hearing was off.

“meet me at the park by your house,” he repeated. 

“you want me to do what?” you asked once again, your mind not wrapping around the command just yet.

“last time i checked, you weren’t deaf. just trust me and meet me there.”

“tsukki, like you said earlier, it’s almost ten at night.” where was your boyfriend heading with this? he isn’t even the spontaneous type! so where was this going?

well, obviously the park but why?

“i’m aware, i can tell time, y/n.” tsukki rolled his eyes slightly.

“it’s also wednesday night, a weeknight,” you continued as you began to walk to your closet.

“i’m also cognizant of that as well. i own a calendar,” he replied.

“we have school tomorrow, kei. you remember that? school? the building we go to and learn in?” you mumbled, still not believing that your boyfriend wanted to meet up at such a late hour.

think about it, tsukishima is an incredibly intelligent boy. he’s probably one of the smartest kids you know. probably even one of the best students in general and he’s asking you to hang out on a school night? after he nags at you about studying for your classes and sleeping at reasonable hours? 

even if he, himself, doesn’t sleep at reasonable hours, but he insists you do it at least.

something’s up.

“how many times do i have to tell you that i know what these things are?” he scoffed quietly.

“as many times as it takes for you to come to your senses,” you retaliated as you quickly grabbed one of the hoodies in your wardrobe, coincidentally it was one you stole from the blonde.

“you say that as if you’re not already getting ready to meet me there,” he teased you as he began to laugh quietly at how predictable you were to him.

“how are you so sure about that, four-eyes?” you replied as you slipped your head into the hoodie that was a few sizes too big.

“i’m sure for two reasons actually,” he began, the tone in his voice sounding extremely confident as he seemed to know you inside and out. 

“one, i know that regardless of what situation you’re in, you don’t pass up on an opportunity to see me because you’re literally a lovesick puppy. two, i can hear rustling through the phone, and taking that first reason in mind, i’m going to safely assume that you’re grabbing a hoodie and some shoes so you can come out and meet me.”

“you know, i really do hate you sometimes. you’re a pain in the ass,” you spoke, voice slightly muffled by the hoodie covering your mouth slightly.

“yeah, yeah, but you know you love it. i’ll see you there,” he chuckled before hanging up on you, leaving you alone in your quiet bedroom, the scent of his cologne still lingering on the fabric that wrapped your body in a warm embrace.

once you broke out of your haze, you quietly maneuvered out of your bedroom, making way towards the front door. you slipped on your shoes once you got to the doorway and pulled the door open as quietly as possible, to avoid any unwanted confrontation with your parents, before slipping into the cool and quiet night. 

hands intertwined in the hoodie’s pocket, you briskly walked towards the small park a few blocks away from your own house, impatient to see your boyfriend.

sure, you had seen him a few hours prior to this but you could never get enough time with the blonde. time spent with him always flew by and you found yourself craving his attention more and more as your time with him increased as well.

you knew the feeling was mutual, hence why you two were sneaking out to see each other. but still, seeing such a stoic, and a rather asshole-ish, person like tsukishima act so soft and vulnerable in your presence made you want to risk it all for him. a little scolding or tighter limitations on your freedoms for a few days were worth the time you’d spend with your lover.

glancing up at the sky as the park’s playground began approaching your field of vision, you noticed how clear tonight’s sky appeared to be. no cloud in sight, just miles, and miles of countless stars littering the dark night sky. 

the perfect conditions from some stargazing, you smiled softly at the realization.

refocusing your eyes in front of you, you noticed a rather lanky figure sit on one of the swings, awkwardly shifting himself forward and backward. 

“hey, stranger,” you piped up as you took a seat beside his own swing.

“funny seeing you here, hmm?” he turned to look at you, a teasing expression lying lazily upon his face as he briefly eyed your appearance. more than likely, noticing his hoodie engulfing your figure. 

“yeah, extremely funny. so funny that you had to beg me to come out here.”

“yeah, i really begged for it. i felt as if i would die if i didn’t see you, almost got down on my knees.” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“well, you did have to ask me a handful of times before i agreed to come down. so, yeah, i’d like to think you begged for it,” you mimicked his actions. “just admit that you missed me, to make up for the fact that i snuck out of my house for you. after curfew, may i add on.”

“you act as if i didn’t sneak out of my own house, after curfew as well,” he retorted.

“would admitting that you missed me kill you?” you pouted, crossing your arms together.

“fine, fine. i missed you, okay? happy?” he said as he leaned towards your side, long fingers caressing your side which only made you squirm as it tickled.

you laughed softly before nodding and stretching an arm out in his direction, allowing him to link your pinkies together, a form of affection worth more than a kiss in your relationship. 

“so what made you bring me out on a night like this? i was working on some real important trigonometry homework when you interrupted me, and let me mention once again that it’s a school night.”

tsukishima went back to swinging himself on the swing, his pinky being interlaced with yours caused you to begin to sway yourself on the swing as well.

“after i noticed that you didn’t reply to my messages, i figured that you’d gotten too wound up in your homework. i knew you could need a small break from it all and hearing how tense you sounded over the call, only confirmed it for me,” a small blush rose into his pale cheeks.

“you knew that i was starting to get stressed? tsukki,” your voice began to soften more. “you seriously knew that just by one phone call and a lack of replies?”

he scoffed quietly, attempting to look like he didn’t care but the rising heat appearing on his cheeks and ears told you otherwise, “don’t go making it sound like that, it was just obvious.”

you began to grin at the obvious timidness your boy was exuding, “so let me guess, you noticed i was feeling upset so you decided to help me clear my mind by spending some time with me.” 

“tch, you wish.”

you moved your hand to properly interlace your entire hand with his own, squeezing it gently.

“that’s really sweet of you, kei. i appreciate it so much, it’s exactly what i needed,” you beamed under the moonlight, something tsukishima couldn’t help but find beautiful, his expression softening once again.

“this one trig problem was really getting to me. i was so relieved to hear my phone ring as it gave me an excuse to take a longer break, and it was an even greater relief when it was you who was calling.” as you were speaking, a slight breeze swept up and began to lightly run through your locks, which only caused tsukishima to continue admiring you.

“you know, you’re actually really cute, especially under this moonlight,” he said as he pulled your intertwined hands up to his lips, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“are you insinuating that you used to think i wasn’t cute?” you rose one of your eyebrows mischievously, wanting to fluster the unusually soft boy.

he sighed dramatically, letting go of your hand, “and you ruined it. i was trying to express my undying love for you and you just had to ruin the mood.”

“well don’t let that stop you, i’m still listening!” you attempted to salvage the soft moment as kei began to laugh before he rose from his swing, extending a hand to you.

“maybe i’ll give it another shot after we get a nicer view of the stars.” you could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his eyes when he said this, but nonetheless you stood up to take his hand.

hand-in-hand you both walked to the playground, getting on it and finding yourselves seated at the very top, the starry much clearer at the slightly elevated altitude.

not wanting to ruin the quiet atmosphere, you turned your head upwards, a small smile on your face as you raked your eyes through the endless clusters of stars.

as you continued to observe the space above you, tsukki turned his attention to focus on your delicate features making his smile reappear. there was just something about tonight that made you look so ethereal, he just couldn’t help but fall for you even harder.

“you okay?” you asked when you finally felt his stare on you.

“yeah, i just can’t take my eyes off you,” he breathed out, which led you to smile at him, your heartwarming at the sight of how in love he looked.

“you’re so cute, kei.” you leaned your body on his, your head finding a home on the space between his shoulder and neck.

tsukishima didn’t waste any time wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. in return you pressed a kiss to his lower jaw, your smile pressing against his skin.

with that, no more words were expressed. everything that needed to be said was done in your respective kisses but also the lovesick grins that you both wore for the remainder of that night.

your starry night with your own little moon pressed right against your body.

[elexica]

Give & Toke

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27069568

Happy 4/20 Yugihoes,

Please accept a humble posting of my puppyshipping/violetshipping weedfic. 

Joey showed up at Kaiba's shiny new dispensary for the sole purpose of kicking Kaiba's ass.

It does not go as planned.

A gift for @sky-kaijou​ / @sky-kaijou-writes​ in honor of the 2020 New Zealand Cannabis Reefer-endum. TW: Marijuana use and sale.

Title by @auroraXborealis <3 For the Professional Rivals prompt of AU-Gust. . . . (context for this fic) Marijuana is decriminalized currently in Domino City, and stores can be licensed through a regulatory scheme similar to that of California.

Full story under the cut

Joey stomped into the new cannabis shop in the neighborhood.  It looked like an Apple store: white walls, smooth white tables, iPads and clerks in matching polos.  Gentrification had taken his neighborhood by storm, spinning the older apartment complexes into glamorous condos, replacing the older styled homes with sleek modern imitations, and leaving everyone who couldn’t keep up forced to either move away or to the streets.

Joey’s own rent was soaring, and so was his bitterness towards the invaders to his territory.  And especially this cursed-ass pot shop.  The shiny new dispensary hadn’t made a terrible dent in his sales, but he couldn’t keep up with the variety, the quality, or the convenience.

It was a travesty to his profession, is what it was.  Joey had been dealing for years—he’d never gotten an allowance from his father and passing a little pot along had made up the difference.  Once he graduated high school, it morphed into something of a full-time gig.  That hadn’t been his intention.  It wasn’t like he was trying to move up the distribution ladder or become the next gang lord.  But he’d built a good network, and in an industry that ran on relationships and reputation, it was really going pretty well for him.

And this bastard had the gall to move into his territory!  Sell his soulless, corporate product to his loyal customers.  With this robotic, inhuman, unfeeling mockery of everything that weed is.

Joey spotted a mustachioed blue-polo wearing corporate shill and waved him over.  “I’m here ta talk ta yer manager.  Give him ‘a piece of my mind.”

“If you intend to make threats against Mr. Kaiba in some sort of gang turf nonsense, you have no idea the true power that you are—” the goon responded, placid energy souring.  Joey’s fists clenched tighter, body preparing for a fight.

“I’m not sure a piece of your mind would get you very far.”  While Joey was attempting to intimidate the soulless bud-tender, a tall brunet in a white suit with a light blue oxford shirt had stalked up behind him and interrupted.

Joey spun on the toe of his well-worn red Nike’s. “An’ who do ya think you are?”

The brunet crossed his arms over his chest.  “Seto Kaiba, the license-holder for this establishment.”

Joey nervously ran a hand through his messy blond hair.  He hadn’t expected the shop owner to be so young.  Or attractive.  All of his fight drained from him.  In Joey’s decade of experience, rival dealers were rarely so… professional and polished.  Joey felt instantly underdressed in his varsity jacket and jeans.

“Uh… well, yer in territory that doesn’t belong ta ya!”  Joey stammered.

“Is that so?  I assure you, I have all required state and local permits,” Kaiba answered, blue eyes narrowing.  The taller man let a stray glance to Joey’s old, green Jansport backpack. “Perhaps if you had a better view of my inventory, we could have a more amiable business relationship.  I’m not trying to alienate everyone in my industry.”

It was insane, the way the taller man could knock the fight out of him without even trying.  Joey had never considered that his enemy would possibly seek to de-escalate the situation.  Joey nodded and followed the taller man to the back, hypnotized.  He maybe shouldn’t have smoked a bowl before raiding the enemy facility.

Inside an equally pristine office, Kaiba lit a pre-rolled joint and took a long inhale.  He passed it across the desk, the rolling papers poised delicately between his forefinger and middle finger.

Joey accepted the joint and took a hit.  After an impressive pause, Kaiba released smoke rings from his lips slowly, in that perfect practiced way.  The smoke dissipated softly, fading from tight circles and clouding the air.  With no windows in the room, it seemed that his intent was to hot box it.  Joey wondered idly how the white marble of the desk was so free from dust or ash if Kaiba took to smoking here.

Joey passed back the joint before releasing his breath in a round of hacking coughs.  

While Joey was gasping for air and trying to gather his bearings, Kaiba produced a glass of water and a plain white ashtray.  He gently rested the joint on the edge.

“That was a proprietary strain—Blue Eyes White Dragon.  It’s Sativa.  I’m working on a hybrid model that has a significantly greater THC content.  But the current Blue Eyes plant has the highest percentage of CBD for Sativa plants currently on the market in Domino.  Thoughts?”  Kaiba unbuttoned his white blazer.

Joey’s eyes watered, and he managed to take a few sips from the glass.  “It tastes… unique.  Kinda minty?”

Kaiba nodded, raising the joint to take another hit.

“So, y’know, I came here to talk about ya encroaching on my business.  I’ve built up a book ‘a business in this part ‘a Domino, and I’m not gonna give up that easy!”  Joey said, straightening his shoulders.  He couldn’t tell if he was sitting up properly.  The world was already starting to feel a little warmer, fuzzier. His forehead sort of tingled like he had a third eye.

Once again, Kaiba blew out a series of flawless rings, staring into space.  The blue irises of his eyes were framed by smoke-induced redness.  “Yes, well, I have no intention of cowing to any threats.  I took this corrupt pharmaceutical company from my dead father, and I am turning it into something that can actually improve people’s lives.  And no puny street punk will stand in my way.”

“Oof.  Sorry for ya loss.”  Joey elected to ignore the last comment, as a gentleman.  And because, for the first time, he spotted a white holster tucked under the newly opened sport jacket.

“Don’t be, he was a bastard,” Kaiba said with a satisfied smirk.

Joey laughed at the insinuation.  He might’ve had more to say, under other circumstances, but Kaiba had shared the good shit.  Instead, the room felt a few degrees warmer than when he had entered and he removed his letterman jacket, revealing his toned biceps.

Kaiba was constructing another round of rings when his eyes met Joey’s sculpted arms.  His focus was completely dashed, and he ended up exhaling the rest of the smoke from his nose, like a dragon.

“Ha, ya see something ya like, rich boy?” Joey said with a signature grin, picking up the joint again.  It was already almost half-way spent.

Kaiba looked away dismissively.  “Irrelevant.  Mr. Wheeler, it was a matter of time before you paid my enterprise a visit.  As you have most likely noticed, there are certain elements of the trade in which I excel.  I am a gifted scientist, an expert businessman, and—”

“A robot?  You’ve had double the hits I have and ya won’t even crack a smile!  I dunno what yer tolerance has ta be, but ya ain’t human anymore.”

Kaiba rolled his eyes, tapping the joint against the ash tray to release some of the built-up cinders.  “There is a certain social element to this business that I have no interest in participating in.”

Joey leaned over a little in his chair.  “Is that so?”  He meant to have an interrogator’s pose and expression, but he was worried he just looked high as balls.  

Kaiba passed the still burning joint across the table, little red ember barely emanating light in the bright white office.  

“I would like to absorb your book of business and employ you as a bud-tender.”

Joey rejected the joint and cracked his knuckles, knowing that the action flexed his arm muscles.  An almost-imperceptible blush flashed across Kaiba’s cheeks.  “I’ve been my own boss, mostly, for a little while now.  Why should I be a glorified store clerk for ya?”

“You can’t possibly see this career continuing to serve you indefinitely.  You’ll need to go legit or go to jail.”  Kaiba lazily released one more puff of smoke before butting the joint.  “But, I am amenable to other arrangements.  What do you propose?”

Joey smiled at the suggestion.  “Partner.  It doesn’t haveta be fifty-fifty or anything, but I’ve built somethin’ up, and I know what I’m worth.  I gotta be making at least five g’s a month.”

Kaiba finally broke.  He laughed almost hysterically at the suggestion, doubling over and taking a full minute to get his breathing to settle.  “Yeah, ok.  That would be, maybe, a five percent share of the retail business.”

Joey stretched, resting his arms behind his head, giving Kaiba an eyeful of his tight white t-shirt and strong pectorals underneath.  “Ten percent of the retail company.”

Kaiba nodded, picked up his phone and typed away.  “The contract will be prepared presently.”

“Neato,” Joey said with a lecherous smile.  Everything felt soft, warm, comfortable—even if the room looked so sterile it could be used for a surgery.  “Now, what should we do with this time?”

Kaiba shifted in his seat and adjusted his light blue tie.

Joey leaned forward, planting an elbow on the desk.  “I got some ideas I think you’ll like, partner…”

Kaiba leaned over the desk as well, a small smile budding on his lips.  “Oh, already?”

“Yeah.  In this business, yer supposed to seal a contract with a kiss.”

“I do not think that’s custom—”

Joey closed the remaining distance and captured his lips in a searing kiss. Kaiba relaxed into the kiss almost instantly.  It was softer than Joey had expected.  Sweet and hot, with the flavors of mint, smoke, and cannabis on his partner’s lips.

Joey only broke it to walk over and climb into the brunet’s lap.

The contract was respectfully slid under the door.

FIN

[elai-okonma]

Chapter 10. Jesus Wept

Thank you to @obeymekookie for always supporting my work<3

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, TORTURE, SEXUAL CONTENT, ETC.

Word count: 2,064

Devildom 

  The brothers were still outside watching the light show in the sky when Diavolo spoke up, they had forgotten that he was even there. He looks to Lucifer, whose eyes were glued to the Celestial skies above. 

  “I don't understand, who would want to start another war??” 

  “Does anyone else think it suspicious that Simeon disappeared right before all this started?? I mean, it was very unlike him to leave the way he did. He looked really concerned.” 

  “Maybe so, we’ll just have to ask him when he comes back. Or better yet! Someone text him on his DDD!”

Asmodeus is the one who whips out his phone and sends the message:

Hey, do you know anything about what’s going on up in the Celestial Realm, right now??

Is it another war??

I hope you’re ok! 

Simeon??

 Hello??

 …

No answer. Asmo tries to call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. Honestly, what the fuck is going on up there?? 

Another few minutes goes by, before the black sky goes quiet. 

  “Huh… well, it seems that the fighting has stopped.”

  “Lord Diavolo, we need to finish our conversation about Belphie, but that will have to wait. If there is another Celestial war starting, then we need to find Satan, and then come up with a plan.” states Lucifer.

  “Why would we need to do that?? If there was another war, why would we need to be involved?? We don’t know if it’s directed at us, or the human realm. It could even be just amongst themselves, for all we know.” replies Diavolo. 

 Lucifer is stern with his words: “That’s right we don’t know. We don’t know anything about what just happened up there, but what I do know is that, that was Celestial Ash falling down upon us, and in all my years as an Angel I’ve never seen that. And even more, what little I have read about it, was vague. There is little to no information on it. So yeah, it might not be directed at us, but wouldn’t you rather be prepared for if it were??” 

Diavolo thinks on this. He knows Lucifer is right, his priority is the people of the Devildom. Every Demon is his responsibility. Including Satan, and Belphegor.

  “Ok, you all continue to search for Satan, I'll be leaving with Barbatos to tend to other matters back at the palace. Try to stay in the house until we figure out a plan.”

  The Lord and his butler turn to take their leave, making haste back to the castle. The two knew what they had to do. They were going to have to let Belphegor know what had happened, and even try to find out if he knew where Satan might be. They didn’t expect any type of cooperation from him though, and quite frankly the two didn’t ever want to see the youngest brothers face again. 

  “How do you suppose we go about this??” asks the Demon Lord, once they are back home.

  “Any way you’d like, my Lord. I know you never wanted to see Belphegor for as long as he lived, which is why you exiled him from the Devildom. So, however you want to go about this, I will support you.”

______________________________________________

The Celestial Realm:

  As you sit restrained on the shore, you hear Elai speak up quietly:

“MC….do you have any idea what the penalty is for attacking an Archangel…

  You stare up at your friends, not knowing what to say. What was there to say?? What was going to happen, now that you betrayed what was technically your Celestial brother. You don’t get long to think nor answer Elai’s question before you hear a loud, booming voice come from the night:

“MC!!!!!”

  Your eyes widen at the familiar voice, your hand shakily coming up to cover your mouth. The three Angels next to you flinch when they hear your name. Fuck, is the only thought you can form, the seriousness of the situation becoming more clear.

  That familiar blue light piercing through the dark sky, as you look up.

“Father…”

  It was the last word you heard before you covered your eyes to shield them from the light.

  When you open them, you notice you’re in a dark, unfamiliar room. The only light source was from your halo. It’s only when you try to walk forward, you realize you can’t. Panic starts to set in when you try your arms, but those also fail you. Looking around frantically, you crane your head around over your shoulders to try to see your surroundings but it’s no use. However, you hear metal clanking and it dawns on you that the reason you can’t move is because you’re chained up. You didn’t even notice the cold of the cuffs around your ankles and wrists. 

  Ok, let’s try to get some bearings, here…

  You tug at the cuff on your left wrist, then your right. Solid. I’m not going anywhere. Your shoulders start to ache from your arms being strung up above you, and your toes barely touch the ground. I’m suspended from my wrists. The chain, I'm assuming, goes up to the ceiling. The cuffs around my ankles are most likely chained to the floor. 

  The presence you feel behind of you now, interrupts your thoughts.

  “Who’s there?!” you call out, voice echoing of the walls.

The warm breath you feel on your ear sends a shiver up your spine. It’s followed by a low, smooth voice that makes you sick to your stomach.

  “Hello, MC…”

You don’t recognize the person, and that makes your breathing pick up, you’re scared now. 

  “W-w-who are you-u??” your voice falters, throat thick with panic.

A low pitched laugh, followed by an answer:

   “You wouldn’t know me, would you?? I’m not very talked about down in the Devildom, huh??”

  A hand runs through your hair, gripping the back of your skull. You feel another hand tracing your jawline and lips. Something warm and wet makes its way up your cheek, and you can’t stop the tears that start to flow from your eyes. 

  You try again, hoping for an answer, “who are you?!”

  The person is in front of you, now. He leans down to your ear again, “the left hand of God, the Archangel of Mercy and Redemption, the One who told Mary she would birth the son of our Father...I could go on all day with who I am, but for now, you can call me Gabriel.”

  You hear a loud crack, then feel a sting on your belly. A whip. You yelp at the sudden feeling but it’s soon followed by another, then another. You barely have time to catch your breath before you choke out:

  “I-i-is t-this my punis-shment for-r attac-cking M-michael??...”

The laughter that fills the room makes your insides knot. 

  “I would suggest not asking questions, that you really don’t want the answer to…”

  You try to steady your breathing, but with your skin itching from the welts it was almost impossible. Gabriel speaks again, this time sounding like a judge reading off a sentence.

   “...MC, for the attempted murder and assault of Archangel Michael, you are hereby sentenced to the Seven Terraces of Purgatory…”

  Another crack of the whip. You hang your head down as Gabriel continues:

  “...and after that, you are to be sent to the Labyrinth of Judas…”

  You didn’t understand what these places were, but that didn’t stop you from trying to put the words with the context. 

Judas, yes, I know who he is. 

Purgatory, I’ve heard little about it.

And Labyrinth, another word for a type of maze.

 Putting everything together made you realize just how fucked you actually were. All you could do was stay silent as the whip kept cracking down all over your body. Do you regret doing what you did?? Absolutely not. Anything for them. What could Gabriel do to you that hadn’t already been done, being tortured before being sent to the void?? An easy road to walk if it meant getting home to your Demons. 

  Sensing your newfound willingness to accept your punishment, Gabriel cracks the whip down on your face this time. You let out another yelp, and you hear the Archangel snarl. When you ready yourself for another hit, it doesn’t happen. You relax your muscles and take a shaky breath. Gabriel’s voice sounds farther away, now:

  “I bet you think you’re special, MC. I bet you think you’re going to come out of all of this unscathed. But you’re wrong. You see MC, it’s my job to send you off, but no one said when. Did you honestly think that I wouldn’t avenge my brother?? Our Father might be merciful, but I am not.”

  You decide to take this opportunity and clear some things up;

“Michael asked ME to make a pact with HIM, not the other way around. Had I known what it meant I would’ve declined the offer! I don’t regret what I did to him, and I don’t feel sorry for him, either. I hope he loses the wing that I ruined. 

  You feel that same sadistic energy from before come over you, and you look right at Gabriel. 

  “I relish in the thought of you going through all this trouble for me. You asked me if I thought I was special, and though it was obviously a rhetorical question, I’ll give you an answer anyway. I don’t think I’m special, I know I’m special. I fuck Demons, and get marriage proposals from Archangels. Do you honestly think that there won’t be repercussions for your actions here today?? Because let me tell ya, as soon as I get back to Lucifer and the others, mmmmh, it turns me on thinking of what they’ll do to you.”

  Gabriel is right in your face now, breathing heavily, and truly enjoying every minute of this interaction. 

  “Ohhhh MC, something needs to be done about that mouth of yours. I could shut you up in more ways than one, but the easiest option would be to just simply plug it up.”

  Something soft but dense enters your mouth. A ball gag, how original. You roll your eyes. He was going to have to do a hell of a lot worse than this. You hear him walk away again, but then comes right back, holding something that you thought looked like a wreath in his hand. 

  “MC, you would look absolutely stunning if you wore this…”

  You feel him slam down the sharp object onto your head, and you let out a muffled scream. A crown of fucking thorns. The action caused you to grip onto the chains that were attached to your cuffs. The feeling of your warm blood dripping down your face and head makes you laugh around the gag. 

    “You’re enjoying this way too much, MC. I didn’t know we had a masochist amongst us.”

  I you mumble through the gag.

“Hmm?? You have something you wish to say??” Gabriel pulls the gag out of your mouth, drool spilling out onto your chin, and you’re quick to correct the Archangel:

  “Sadomasochist.” you say with a confirming smile, eyes blown out and hooded with satisfaction. 

  A guttural moan slips past his lips, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at him, the crown of thorns staying in place. You look back down at him, eyes meeting his gaze. 

 “My my, Gabriel, I didn’t peg you as the type to get off torturing your own kind.” 

  The instant you said it, you knew you struck a nerve. His eyes were dark and the features of his face were cold. 

  “First off MC, do not put yourself in the same ranking as me. I’m an Archangel, you are a human turned Angel. A gift given to you by my Father. Remember that when you fall. And lastly, I do not ‘get off’ on torturing my own kind, I get off on torturing you.” 

  As he shoves the ball gag back into your mouth, he draws his other hand back and slaps you across the face so hard, that the light from your halo dimmed out for a second. 

  “Now MC, what shall we do with all this time we have on our hands??”

  You shoot Gabriel your most dirtiest look, a look that says; ‘let’s play’. 

[shebeafancyflapjack]

King Takes Knight (Part 5)

Shawn gets just what he hoped for.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

(TW: Torture, captivity, ‘nails’)

This was a glorious day. Victory Day. Maybe he’ll make it a national holiday to commemorate the occasion. Every employee will have a microsecond less work to do than usual. He can be generous like that.

Shawn watches from the stage as a Bad Janet enters, bending the arm of that pesky mutated Good Janet in front of her as she marches her down the steps. Behind them are some generic demon guards who he will have to learn the names of, if only so he can reward them for grabbing a human each between them. The four irritating losers who are behind this whole mess. 

He can’t help but laugh! How stupid can they be to have all come at once? Now there’s no one left to run their ridiculous experiment.

“Good evening, dickweeds!” He greets them cheerily, amused by the defeated looks on all of their faces - though Mendoza looks as gormless as ever; “So glad you could attend the show.”

“Oooh, what show? Is it Shrek the Musical?” Jason asks, lifting his chin up.

The large guard holding him gives his arm a painful tug, making the dumbass yelp like a cat with its tail caught in the door.

“I’m afraid not. But I’ll definitely be keen on making you sing soprano when I have them saw your balls off.” He gloats.

With a wave of his hand, he instructs the guards to walk the four of them forward, up the steps, and then force them to their knees at the front of the stage. The Bad Janet struts to stand next to him and Shawn allows her to give him a low five at his side in celebration.

Not that it took much effort.

“I applaud you for trying. But that really was a pathetic attempt to save Michael. You really thought we wouldn’t have Molotov-proofed the doors after last time?” 

Tahani turns to tut at Jason; “Told you!”

“Well I told you guys it was a trap but none of you listened!” Eleanor hisses.

Oh, this is wonderful. He would be happy to simply lock them in a room and watch them blame and scrap with each other, just as Michael originally intended, rather than all this wholesome chummy crap that ended up happening. How ironic.

“Such a shame that Chidi couldn’t be here to join you all. I guess he’s busy getting all loved up with his fellow nerd Simone, right Eleanor?”

He grins as that hits a nerve and Shellstrop darts forward, looking to go for him, before the guard grabs her hair and yanks her back down.

“Don’t worry. I have to keep my word to the Judge, after all. So I’ll be happy to let the experiment carry on, with Chidi and the others under the ‘safe’ guardianship of my employees wearing your skin suits.” He taunts them, “They won’t even notice you’re gone...especially as they will, literally, be the same skin torn from your bodies!”

“You twisted wanker.” Tahani glares at him, the British brat suddenly baring fangs; “Where is Michael?!”

“Y’know, she’s so right...Michael should be here to watch us slowly slice that fat skin off of them, shouldn’t he.” Bad Janet sways her hips, looking knowingly to Shawn with that glint in her eye; “Want me to go fetch him and give him the front row seat?”

This Bad Janet must not have got the memo.

“Oh I wasn’t foolish enough to have Michael be here. I just needed these filthy rats to think that’s where he was by the video.” He brags, watching the shock quickly drain the anger on their faces into hopelessness; “I had Michael moved a nice, cosy location far, far away. You weren’t even close to getting to him, idiots!”

“FUCK!” Eleanor swears, not even looking as though she can enjoy the opportunity to curse; “I told you all, it was too easy!!”

“No biggie.” Bad Janet rolls her eyes; “I can still stream him the footage to wherever that dingus is, can’t I? I sooo want him to see us cut Tahani’s hair into an uneven bob.”

“No! No! NOOOO!” The wannabe princess screams until the guard gives her a slap.

The Bad Janet has a point though. It wouldn’t be worth torturing Michael’s precious humans unless he was there to watch it, even if the plan with the Michael-suit fell through. Damn Vicky and Glenn both being blown up meant he had no duplicate to use, especially as he forgot to share the design with other skinsuit manufacturers (shut up, Glenn!). 

He’s certain there is very little of Michael’s awareness left after how much they’ve inflicted on him over the past few...well, it was only a handful of months but, thanks to Jeremy Bearimy, he’s endured a lifetimes worth of restraints, freezing, impalement, whipping, electrocuting, bad Adam Sandler movies, and soo much worse. There had been a time when he’d looked into those blue eyes and seen so much raw hatred. Now, whenever he took a glance at his wretch of a former employee, the light was flickering out, as if he’s conscious of nothing except the constant pain and loneliness. 

Just like the humans he adores so much that end up here, where they belong. Because they’re terrible and that’s all that needs to be known. He should have left well enough alone. 

At least now, finally, Shawn gets to have some entertainment.

“You’re right, Bad Janet. Set up a connection to the Tenth Circle, Sector B. I left one Bad Janet on duty there with Nicole who’s currently ‘taking care’ of Michael. And by that I mean making him very miserable.” Just in case the humans are too dumb to get the expression.

Bad Janet texts on her phone, popping another piece of gum.

“Tenth Circle...Sector B....Got it.” She raises her head, an oddly pleasant smile spreading across it, eyes suddenly bright and pleasant; “Thanks for that!”

“What-?”

The not-so-Bad Janet karate chops him in the side of the head and knocks him to the floor. He hears her make a shout, the theatre spinning around him, unable to find his feet quick enough before the humans get to their feet and surround him.

Shawn blinks, rapidly, as they proceed to take out some rope and tie his wrists and ankles together.

“What is the meaning of this?! GUARDS! DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THESE STINKING HUMANS OFF OF ME!” He rages, trying his best to break out of their puny hold but they’re, for some reason, freakishly strong.

The Bad Janet continues to smile at him.

“Oh they’re not your guards...and these aren’t the humans. You were being so smug that you didn’t see what’s right in front of you, did you?” She says.

Shawn frowns. What is she talking about?!

He glances up at Tahani leaning over his head, trying to spot the....Oh. Farts.

They’ve fooled him again. That’s no Bad Janet. And these humans have no auras. They don’t even smell! They’re the same as her. They’re...

“Meet my Janet Babies. I produced a bunch more to come with me. We just needed to know where Michael was really being kept and now we do. And I’ve forwarded that to our Team Two so, thanks!”

She gives Shawn a kick in the teeth before her group stand back at her command.

He spits, wriggling, bound and prone on the wooden floor.

The fake Jason stuffs a green stress ball into his mouth to gag him before all of them leave him there, muffled curses being hurled at them, before they lock the door and leave him in the empty theatre. He fucking hates Good Janets!

*

*

*

She likes to use the metal hooks to dig into his flesh and give them a tug, eager to get a reaction out of him despite his near frozen state. Every now and then she’ll manage to hit somewhere extra tender and a whimper will break out of his lips. 

She has a schoolgirl's giggle.

“This is like ice fishing. And you’re my big piece of frozen shrimp.” She teases him as they sit in the inside of a giant glacier. 

She doesn’t seem to be affected by the code, only wearing a pink slip dress. There’s not even any goosebumps on the arms of her suit.. 

The new one they’ve left with him is one he hasn’t seen before. She seems new to torture, possibly even new to the slim skinsuit she’s been given, still fascinated by the way her own fingers move. The way she caresses his face and sticks her tongue out makes him suspect she’s some kind of giant leech monster. The kind they used to let suck humans brains out with straws. Or cut their skulls open and lick them out like a kid with a bowl of cake mix.

Definitely not a fire squid, whatever she was.

“I bet Shawn’s almost finished making your buddies feel at home here. If you’re really good to me, Mikey...I might ask him to bring you their heads as a treat.” Nicole, as she said was her name, informs him.

He’s beyond attempting to beg for them to be left alone anymore. He’s beyond expecting any sort of mercy.

Everything he had tried for so long....everything he had hoped to avoid.

All of his efforts for the past few years were for nothing.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... He thinks as more tiny crystallised tears sting from the corners of his eyes.

A loud bang outside makes him start.

Nicole turns to the Bad Janet at the door; “What was that? Go check on it, will you!” she orders like a spoiled brat to her butler.

The Bad Janet rolls her eyes, flipping the bird and then doing as she’s told.

Nicole turns back to kneel in front of Michael.

He tries to escape into his hallucinations but she wants his focus on her. Her hand grips his cheek and squeezes tight.

“I dunno what you did to get the Boss to hate you so much, I don’t really give a toss about current affairs...But m’just glad I get this as my first job! Punishing a dirty traitor...” She runs the tip of an ice pick up his face, towards his nostril; “...And all the other dirty things I hear about you...My mate Kath said you had the hots for one of them humans...You creeps should keep that fetish on the internet where it belongs! Look where it’s got you now...”

She takes a small hammer out from her pocket and puts it to the bottom of the ice pick, shoving it up Michael’s nose.

“I wish you had a brain in there so this could get the same effect it does with those creatures...But the simulation is good enough.”

He wishes he could laugh through the binding in his lips. He wishes that her wish could come true. Give him a lobotomy? Take away his memories of constant failure? Make him oblivious to how he’d loved for nothing and lost everything? She would be doing him the greatest favour.

As it is, he’ll just sit there and take the pain of a nail through his fake skull. He’ll let her have her fix until she gets her reprieve and he’s left alone to his own personal inner torment. His guilt. His regrets.

Just let go, Michael. Just...forget.

Nicole leans in close, ready to fiercely tap; “Hold still. This will only hurt a-.”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her taunting before her skin suit explodes, sending a wave of pink goo across Michael’s face. 

He blinks. Something happened.

The ice pick and the hammer clatter to the floor.

Wha...

Eleanor Shellstrop stands at the door, clutching a Bad Janet marble in one hand, pointing Janet’s demon exploder in the other. 

[itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto]

Poker and Cigar Night – Part 3!

Possible triggers: References to sex/smut, swearing, case details (bit graphic) smoking (cigarettes), poker and drugs (weed).

A/N: This is the final part ladies and germs. I’ll be writing more Spencer and Matthew fiction, but it will be slow as I study full time at University, and I work part time! Hope you all understand!

“Pretty boy, for the last time, I will beat you at poker.” Morgan said to Spencer, as they wait by the printer for their witness statements to print. “Rossi is hosting another get together next weekend.”

“When will you get it into your brain that I’m from Vegas?” Spencer says taking his witness statements from the printer.

“When you realise that he doesn’t have a brain, it’s all muscle up there.” You smirk taking your boyfriends witness statements off him and sip your coffee. “And you printed out the wrong file genius.” You say handing the paperwork back to him.

“I really fucking hate that you can read quicker than me pumpkin.” Spencer said groaning at his uselessness when it comes to technology.

Morgan rolls his eyes at your comment, unable to think of a comeback, “Are you coming to Rossi’s pool/poker/cigar party/night next week pretty boy and cupcake?” He asked again. “Or are you scared of a little water?” He winked at you knowing back when you were teenagers when there was a pool party, you’d sit and read whilst Morgan flirted with all of the ladies.

“I don’t like getting wet. Plus, I’d rather have my feet up with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.” You smile thinking back to last night having your feet up on yours and Spencer’s balcony, both of you doing that exact thing after a day of painting and decorating the spare room which now has become a little library/office space for the majority of your books.

“You didn’t complain about being wet last night.” Spencer whispered in your ear, referring to you two having sex last night.

You spat out your coffee back into the mug, blushing. “Spencer Walter Reid. Keep your dirty thoughts inside your head.” You say through gritted teeth as Morgan laughs.

“Looks like you need a new coffee cupcake.” Morgan smirked

“Fuck both of you.” You say as you punch both Spencer’s and Morgan’s arms as you go to the coffee machine.

Morgan winces, even though you look puny, you are from it and regularly train with Morgan. “That hurt cupcake.”

“Next ones in yo dick!” You say in a gangster style tone and go back to pouring the coffee into your mug.

“Y/N.” Hotch says trying not to laugh, “As much as we’d like to see that, save it for next weekend. Also, we have a case. Conference room in 10.”

You salute Hotch as a way of acknowledging what he has said and pour Spencer a coffee knowing he needs his next caffeine fix. “Thanks pumpkin. Do you want to grab a smoke before we go the conference room?” Spencer says taking the mug of coffee you poured for him.

“Sure boo.” You smile up at Spencer and go to the outside area for a smoke where Rossi is.

“Ah, there is my favourite young couple.” Rossi smiled at the two of you.

“If I knew you were here Rossi, I’d have made coffee for you too.” You say.

“Ah don’t worry Y/N. I see you kids are doing the same as me, having a smoke before we find out about our next un-sub.” Rossi said

“Yeah. Make the most of the fresh air before a possible plane journey too.” Spencer said and took a cigarette from his pack before giving one to you and lighting his.

“Thanks Spence.” You smile and light up, even though the team know about both of you being together, you try to keep your nicknames for each-other secret. “Also, I’m not that young, I found myself saying ‘Back in my day’ to a child the other day who didn’t know what a tape deck was.”

“You’re 24 Y/N, Reid is 29. You’re still young.” Rossi chuckled as you all finished your cigarettes and went back inside.

---

The case took you to Florida, it was the hottest week of the year and the un-sub was still at large. “You got anything sugar plum? I really could do with coming back to Quantico right now and enjoying a cold beer.” You say

“Afraid not apple pie. I’m analysing the CCTV footage you sent, and I’ll let you know if anything cones up.” Garcia replied

“Thanks sugar plum.” You say and hang up, loving the nicknames you and Penelope have for one another. “She’s got nothing guys but is analysing the footage, hopefully something will come up.” You say to the team rubbing your temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

Spencer knows what’s coming and knows when your migraines get the worst of you, you need to be alone in a dark room with Spencer cuddling you. “Hotch, do you think we could stop for the night? We’ve been at this for 15 hours, and I can tell Y/N has a migraine coming on.” He says quietly. All of the team know you really suffer when you get your migraines and are of no use to anyone as you can’t even open your eyes.

“Good idea Reid. Everyone get some rest. Back here at 10 tomorrow unless Rossi or I call.” Hotch says.

“Make sure Y/N has everything she needs.” Rossi says to Spencer who nods and takes you to the hotel.

---

The following morning, you wake up in Spencer’s arms after finally getting to sleep at 4am. “Morning pumpkin.” Spencer whispers, just in case your migraine is still bad.

“Morning boo. I’m sorry for being so fidgety whilst you slept.” You sigh, you instructed Spencer to get as much sleep as he could as you didn’t want him to lose any sleep for you.

“I barely heard you, as long as I wake up and you’re in my arms, I know you’re safe.” Spencer whispered as you kissed his cheek. “How’s your head pumpkin?”

“It’s a bit more manageable but having a human teddy bear to cuddle at night helps a lot. I’m going to have a shower.” You say, getting up slowly but suddenly stop.

“Everything okay pumpkin?” Spencer asks, worried.

“What if the un-sub left the body parts of the victims in the bed draws? I don’t think forensics looked in there.” You say, before the FBI you worked as a forensics expert so you will often go to crime scenes first during cases. “Boo, can you pass me my phone please?” You ask Spencer who gets it for you.

You ring Hotch, “Hotch..” You begin explain your theory.

“Good idea Y/N, you and Reid go to forensics in an hour and find out. Meet us back at base when you’re done.” Hotch says and hangs up.

“Quick shower it is.” You say to Spencer and run in. “We have to be at the lab in an hour.”

Spencer nods and ruffles his hair. “That’ll do.” He says to himself and gets ready whilst you give your hair a quick wash. “Pumpkin, I’ll go downstairs and grab us a coffee and pastry for the road. Back in 10.”

---

Thanks to your spot, a forensics analyst had been switching the contents in the bed draws around before the police got there, so they were arrested along with the un-sub who was wanted for other killings across the state.

“Let’s go home.” Rossi says, “I have a pool that needs my attention and you lot are all invited, as always.”

“I forgot about that.” Emily says boarding the plane taking a seat by herself.

“How can you forget; I’ve not stopped talking about it all day?” JJ says getting a bottle of water.

“She’s right.” Morgan said as he takes a seat on the plane.

“Are we still going boo?” You ask Spencer as you deal the cards to yourself, him and Rossi.

“Sure pumpkin.” He smiles taking his cards once you have finished.

---

It’s the following Saturday, and you’re at Rossi’s getting ready for the get together. Everyone takes turns to help, and today it is yours & Spencer’s turn, now his leg is better. You don’t like wearing a bikini so are comfortable wearing a cute floral jumpsuit and converse, Spencer goes for a plain t-shirt, shorts and converse.

“Reid, stop eating the sour cream dip!” Rossi says, “There won’t be enough for everyone otherwise.”

“I can’t help it, I love dairy.” Spencer says as he takes a tortilla chip with the dip and eats it, then backs away.

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend and continue putting the drinks in the fridge. “Oh man, I can’t wait to drink these.” You say to yourself as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Spencer says and opens the door as everyone flocks in, wearing summery clothing.

---

A few hours later, and you’re all sat just catching up on things. Morgan is in the pool with Penelope, JJ is talking to Will about a new car she wants, Emily and Hotch are looking at pictures of Jack on Hotch’s phone and you and Spencer are reading books.

You light another cigarette as you put yet another book down. Even though you are able to read quicker than Spencer, when you find a book you like, you enjoy reading it slowly to fully enjoy the narrative.

“I feel so relaxed.” You say to Spencer, who is in the reading zone.

“Hm? Sorry pumpkin?” He turns to you.

“Doesn’t matter.” You smile, kissing his cheek. “It wasn’t important.”

“Is anyone else joining us in this mother fucking big ass pool or not?” Morgan asks

“Because you asked so nicely.” Emily says joining them and passes the joint she was smoking to Spencer.

---

After an hour, everyone is in the pool and is pretty stoned. Well, everyone except you, but you are in the pool.

“Come on cupcake, get in the pool.” Morgan smirked.

“Yeah Y/N, don’t make me get out and pull you in.” Emily said

“I’m perfectly fine, nice and dry like a fresh towel.” You smile sipping your beer and taking a drag from the joint you’re smoking as you only have your legs dipped in the pool but nothing else as you’re comfortable with that.

“Party pooper.” Penelope giggled taking the joint off you.

“Fuck this.” Spencer says, grabbing your legs and dragging you into the pool as everyone gasps, looking at Spencer as if he proposed.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” You whine like a child and splash him.

Spencer kills himself laughing as he addresses you by your full title back.

“I’m sorry pumpkin, but I didn’t want you to miss out on the fun.” He whispers into your ear.

You nod in agreement, “Just don’t do that again.” You whisper back hearing Morgan snicker, so you punch him in the dick as you said you would a few days ago.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years.” Hotch laughed.

“Son of a bitch!” Morgan winces as Penelope smirks offering to kiss it better and they go off to a room.

“Should know better than to mess with me.” You smirk

“Yeah, yeah.” Morgan says rolling his eyes.

---

The rest of the evening is filled with laughter, poker games and just relaxing.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Spencer asks you, noticing you have been day dreaming.

“Yeah, just thinking how even though we have so much darkness in our lives, there is light at the end of the tunnel.” You smile.

“I love you.” Spencer says squeezing your hand gently

“I love you too.” You smile.

“We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on...that’s who we really are.” -Sirius Black

Taglist: @pumpkin-goob​ , @jpegjade​ , @andiebeaword​ , @hopebaker , @aperrywilliams 

Message me or comment below if you want to be on my taglist!

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Red alert

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 22 | Part 23 Red alert | Part 24 >

Disclaimer: A little naughty (maybe not entirely PG13? What do you kids watch these days anyways?) and a bit of travel sickness 

Author’s note: 🔥(That’s all I have to say) 

Word count: 1.919

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I never thought I would come to say this, but I think I’ve learned to appreciate the cold. I’m still not a great fan of it, let that be clear. But there’s something quite funny about the routine you build around such extreme temperatures. Digging yourself out of your trailer? Check. Doing jumping jacks while letting your dog pee in the snow? Check. Ice fishing and making Maple Syrup Taffy (which I adore by now)? Check.  

Today is our last day here in Canada and I’ll miss the polite fun folk we have met, the film crew whom are absolute rockstars no matter how extreme the cold got and I’ll most definitely NOT miss the trailer we lived in. Three broken heaters. A leaking shower. A bed that was barely large enough for me to stretch my legs (poor chocolate cake had to almost sleep folded in half) and no place to properly dry your clothes meant it smelt like old fart if you didn’t light some scented candles.

But no more old farts! We are going home!

See you soon dear parents, friends and other good acquaintances. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you in person!

Ali

‘Oophh..I’m not feeling so well Hen.’ I croaked, gripping the arm rest of the airplane seat tightly. I felt about as green as the puking bag I held in my other hand, ready in case my body would no longer hold in the two puny sandwiches I had for breakfast.

Henry rubbed a strong hand over the nape of my neck, cooing some comforting words in my ear over the loud noise of the plane engines and storm outside.

And…DROP…there went the plane again, my bowels drifting for a few milliseconds too long, making the bile rise in the back of my throat. Shaking my head in terror I opened the bag, trying my utter best to breath in deeply through my nose.

Somewhere in the racket of the aerial doom I could hear the quiet whining of Kal, the poor dog folded in between Henry’s legs.

Quite a pair we were, hmm? Scared Kal, sick Alice.

Slowly I felt my breathing calm, the bile sinking back where it belonged, the cold sweat on my skin drying somewhat.

‘Please tell me it..’

DROP. The plane made another dive through the air, my previous green hue right back where it was just moments ago. My face got sweaty again and my breath choked as I kept my mouth clenched tight to prevent any bile from exiting any orifices. 

Usually I was pretty okay with flying. But this? This?! Oh my word. This was something else! I wasn’t even sure if Henry was an actual human, his body calm and relaxed, voice soothing. Like nothing was the matter and we weren’t right now looking right in the gaping mouth of a hell storm, ready to be devoured.

‘I can’t do.. This.’ I gulped, sitting back up and looking white as a sheet, my eyes trying to focus on the chair before me.

‘You’re doing real well.’ Henry praised, his warm hand pushing some sticky strands of hair away from my face. ‘Deep breath in and puff puff puff out.’ He puffed along with me and the very act made me somewhat forget about our predicament. I swallowed back another bit of bile and quickly looked over at him, his mouth still shaped in a little “o” as he helped me puff. ‘I’m not having a baby over here Hen.’ I sniffled, then felt my body protest again, the bile jumping back up in my throat.

Henry laughed. ‘If it works, it works. Besides, a little practise is always good.’ I could clearly distinguish the humour in his voice but feeling sick as a dog I first needed another one of those long inhales followed by a series of puffs before I could look back at him. With an exasperated look I puffed into his face, making him laugh even harder. ‘You’re nearly there baby!’ He cheered, taking the piss with me a bit. I growled and shook my head in annoyance. ‘You…’

‘Just another..four more hours.’ He winked, pointing at the screens that showed the flight time.

‘I hate you right now..*breath in* Cavill *ppfffff pfff pfff*’

‘Just wait until I put an actual baby in you.’ He whiskered huskily in my ear.

Oh how glad I was that nobody could hear us over the loud racket. That nobody could hear my stomach make an actual somersault - both in a good and bad way at the same time. And oh how glad I was I wasn’t physically able to launch myself at him right now, because truly..this man? This man was the greatest of teasers and right now he could most definitely need some..well..let’s say “putting in place”?

��

‘Home sweet home!!’ Henry turned the key of the blue slated house, the hour late and Kal lagging behind us as he was making a reintroduction with the front yard. Tail wagging, nose sniffing, he was acquainting himself with his new home. Our home. Our very own home. A very empty home, too.

We had not really had any time to move and buy furniture, so right now the large house only had a few basic pieces; a bed, a small couch, a kitchen table with two chairs and a few lights. Henry flicked his hand over the light switch to turn it on, but darkness did not evaporate with the burst of yellowish light. It remained dark instead. Grumbling Henry took his phone from his back pocket and used it to shine some light on the light switch.

‘Strange.’ He grumbled, looking over at me as I was calling Kal inside. Stepping in behind him I noticed that something was amiss. ‘Missing a spark there, sir?’ I winked and just like that his annoyance was forgotten, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a romantic night in the dark ages, my fair lady.’ - ‘Mmm…sounds terribly romantic.’

Closing the door behind us and following Henry’s flashlight into the kitchen, our feet echoing loudly in the empty hallway, we found some groceries his parents had done for us earlier that day. We filled Kal’s bowl, opened the bottle of red wine we found and decided to drink our first celebratory glass of alcohol in bed, the house being a bit chilly as the heating also seemed to have died along with the electricity.

‘I think the dead heater has cursed us.’ I mumbled, trembling under the sheets, body propped up against the headboard and Henry pouring us two glasses. He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure to sacrifice a virgin later. But first things first; a toast!’

I laughed and clinked glasses with him, the mattress shifting as he moved in close beside me, his lips quite instantaneously finding mine before I could even take a sip. ‘Mmmm..it may have taken me a good 37-ish years to woo you, dear Alice, but please let me tell you that I am the happiest man in the world right now.’ He kissed me again, more passionately.

I chuckled into his kiss, pulling back slightly. ‘I am glad about that too. Even as I lay here in all my clothes, shivering under a blanket, stinking of airplane and probably tasting of bile, too.’ I winked at Henry, his features half-lit by the light of his phone’s flashlight that he had now placed on the foot end of the bed. He laughed and pressed another kiss on my lips. ‘Oh no. Nothing can quite stop me from loving you, I’m sure. Absolutely..’ He pressed a kiss lower on my neck, his teeth gripping onto the neck of my comfy, but totally un-sexy turtleneck sweater. ‘Nothing.’ He growled, tugging at it playfully, making me laugh even harder.

We had taken only two more sips of our wines before we busied ourselves with reacquainting with another piece we had missed very much; his bed. Now, our bed. Limbs tangling together, lips locking, there were a few things that simply didn’t change. Henry was a bear in every..sense..of the word. Big, bulky, sweet, hairy bear hugs. 

And apparently next to family planning, long airplane flights ALSO got him terribly horny.

—

Squinting my eyes I looked to my side, finding a still asleep Henry entangled with my arms and legs. Which, in and of its own was quite unique as Henry was usually up way before I even managed to blink open a heavy eyelid. Grumbling I shifted my hip and felt something weird on my leg.

Was that a …SNAIL?

Squirming and huffing in disgust I quickly shot out of bed, only realising a moment too late what it actually was. Not a snail or anything of an animalistic nature. A condom. Gasping quietly I saw Henry wake up as well, his blue eyes immediately searching for me and finding me next to the bed. Quizzically frowning at me he grumbled. ‘Mmwhat is it?’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then saw what I was pointing at. The condom.

‘Oh..’ He blinked, picking it up with deft fingers, then blinked a few times more when he realised that it was not just a condom. It was a..broken..condom. We both held our breath, the last remains of sleep immediately lifted.

‘Holy crap.’ I gasped, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. Henry sat up and swallowe harshly. ‘I’m SO sorry. Oh..’ He quickly tossed the condom aside and pulled the sheets away, large crusty stains everywhere. ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Ali. I didn’t know..I…’ He gave me a pleading look, large hairy chest heaving with terror.

And yet, despite the fact this was not truly a funny thing, I laughed. ‘Oh my..’ I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. ‘Well that was an adventurous night, for sure.’ I said, slowly crawling back on the bed, evading the large crusty stain in the middle. Henry sighed and rubbed his face again. ‘Damn. Do you want to go to the pharma..-’

‘No.’ I cut him short. Our eyes met again and just like that another silent agreement was made, Henry’s pleading eyes melting into ones of tender love. ‘Really?’

I giggled and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his nose and enjoying the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around me. ‘Really Ali?’

‘Henry! Please do not make me regret a thing that feels good.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. ‘So.. it’s okay?’

I nodded and looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. ‘To me it’s okay. Is it for you?’ I asked with honest curiosity, but I couldn’t keep a serious face for long when I saw Henry’s over enthused face. ‘Alice..Alice Alice Alice..is this what I think it is?’ He whispered, eyes large and expecting, his hands rubbing slow circles over my lower back. I grinned and nodded, shrugging ever so slightly. ‘It’s not like we aren’t on the same page. No matter what happens. We want this, right?’ - ‘Right.’ - ‘Then let this happy little accident make it so.’ - ‘Okay.’ Henry said, still coming up to speed with what we had just decided upon.

‘AAAHH!!’ He exclaimed rolling us over, the dirty sheets sticking to our bodies, making me laugh with joy. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’ He whispered with great contentment, his lips travelling down my jawline, pressing sweet kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

‘I love you too Henry. Now better warm me up before we’re going to probably have our coldest shower EVER.’

‘With pleasure.’  

--

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[katsukikitten]

Weighted

A/N @zbops for you bb as per your request. I hope that this lives up to at least half of your expectations. Thank you so much for supporting me and for encouraging me. Enjoy it and may it help you just a bit more. I send my love XOXO Kitten 💋

It was not unlike you to occasionally stay up late into the night. Late enough to see the moon rise high in the inky black sky watching the constellations move by at a lazy pace.

But to lie awake long enough to greet the sun was abnormal.

At least it was supposed to be abnormal now. Before it was your normal to lose sleep as fat droplets slid from unblinking eyes. Thoughts consuming you with nothing and everything at once.

You thought yourself better.

Not cured, not immune, but well.

Fine and level headed for once.

Yet here you lie again unable to will your exhausted body to sleep as you replay failures from pasted years.

Like an old film one must study to improve but every time it is rewatched another haunting flaw jumps out.

And there is nothing you can do to right your wrong.

Frustrated tears well in your eyes now as you watch the clock for the second week in a row burn an obnoxious 3 am into your retina.

Furious as you thought you had put this problem in its place. That you had long ago learned how to make your demon small and to lock it away.

As with everything in life it adapted, slipping through the bars of its cage only to find itself looming over you once more. Delighting in your anguish as it exploits the coping mechanism you developed.

Turning it on its head to haunt you, to hurt you. To put you in your place as you thought you did it.

Although it knows this will be enough to pain you, it wants to do more.

Truly a petty being as it steals your voice, worming into your head just to whisper.

"Did you really think a few extra hours of training a day would make a difference? That you would suddenly be  sought after as a pro hero? You could barely get an apprenticeship and look at how you're failing at that!"*

This dredges up your failure from last week, your first offical mission as apprentice.

What was supposed to be a normal patrol quickly unraveled into a full on street brawl.

You aided your hero holding down the perpetrators bodies with your quirk, straining to keep them in place.

There were tenty or so overpowered drug enhanced strength quirks fighting the pull you placed on them. 

Your arm pangs now, reminding you of how it threatened to snap beneath the own weight of your quirk.

"Useless." Its laugh echoes in your ear.

Your temper flares, fist smashing the small black box that mocks you with the time before you rise. Dressing into your training clothes, sliding on your weighted vest as your bruises groan against it. You push your already consistent 1.5 times Earth's gravity pull to a consistent 2.5 for now.

Hands grab for your phone and headphones before fumbling to find your key in your amassed returning symptoms. Throwing piles of clothes, books, and homework onto other piles of  long neglected items.

Irritation mixed with a twinge of panic sets in as you look for your FOB that accesses not only the gym you are so desperate to use but also it accesses your dorm building as your dorm room key rests on a chain around your neck. Your memory works overtime as you wonder where it could have been placed.

Was it it Kirishima's room?

Or Bakugou's?

Who's room did the three of you spend the night in last?

You cannot remember, time all runs together much like a watercolor painting caught in the rain.

Colors bleed and the world dips into sun bleached greys as you think of the two of them.

Had you even texted either of them good night?

When was the last time you told them you loved them?

You pick up your phone, bloomed bruised hand winking back at you before the phone obliterates into metal and glass confetti at your feet.

"Fuck." You hiss having forgotten that you had the gravitational pull around your hands as well. Damning yourself for being so careless although you are still careless enough to walk over the shrapnel with bare feet.

It is then you find your key FOB lying in the middle of the chaotic room which you snatch greedily before locking your post nuclear bomb room away.

And with that the thoughts of ash blonde and ruby red hair.

You slink on guilty feet in the shadows of the hall, the moon your only witness as you make your way outside.

The air is cool agaisnt your heated skin, hinting that fall is almost over. That winter will be sure to rear its ugly head and harshly at that.

As if to prove a point an icy wind cuts through your skin deep into your bones, you sigh out upping the force on your body.

The gym is a short walk from the dorm, the night caressing you with soft fingers as it guides you to the thick metal door.

A worried gulp echoes back at you as your hand hovers just before the panel. FOB just out of range to be scanned.

Last time a student was on rest probation their key could only work if Sensei scanned theirs as well.

With gritted teeth you bring the key to kiss smooth plastic. For a moment you're sure it will flash red but when it beeps with a flash of glorious green you cannot help the small smile that spreads across your lips.

They must have forgotten to add those restrictions to yours, that or they didn't think you would disobey your physical therapist and other Sensei.

It doesn't take long before you're sweating.

And the more you swing the harder you make the gravitational pull on your body. The floor groans from the pressure as you push the pull towards you beyond limits for a recovering body, 3.5 times Earth's normal pull.  Sweat slides down a bruised nape and drips into now stinging eyes.

You do little to alleviate the pain or sweat that is trying so hard to blind you.

Another swing of your weighted fists has your bones creaking, muscles burning while you have half a mind to add more sand to your wrist and ankle bands.

Hell maybe even more to your vest although it presses against your sternum harshly with each step, threatening to snap a rib. You begin to lose the concentration on the areas you want to afflict as the incresed gravitational begins to spread out. The floor groans harder depsite being designed to withstand many powerful quirks.

A hairline fraction fissures through the smooth wood, attempting to snake up the cinderblock wall.

"None of this is going to change anything. You will still be..."

A heated punch hits the dummy hard, causing it to skid but you advance without letting up, snarling.

"Don't fucking say it."

Another hit to the dummy and you've got it cornered agaisnt the wall but still the voice goes on, a smile dancing along its tone as it purrs.

*"Worthless"*

You begin to jab agaisnt the dummy with enough momentum and force that the padding begins to fall away from its "face" revealing unforgiving metal beneath.

Metal that you pound into anyway.

Metal that warps for a moment from being too close to your pull, still your barrage of fists and feet cease to let up.

You follow up a punch with a round house kick increasing the force on your body subconsciously. As you rotate your vest slams heavily into your ribs and an audible crack echoes around the room. 

"Fuck!" You huff slamming your foot against the cool surface, the dummy implodes as you land on your feet.

In that moment the room pops from the pressure as you let up the force. The floor creaks, almost breathing as it returns to normal although now heavily warped. Suddenly you feel as light as a feather. As if at any moment you could float up to the ceiling like a lazy balloon only to get tangled in the harsh overhead lights.

Crimson splatters the floor from your knuckles and spit, hand feathering over your ribs. Sliding beneath dampened fabric, smoothing over already bruised skin. You're sure it will only worsen now that you count, one, two.

Three fucking cracked ribs. Your breaths come out in heavy puffs all echoing back to you as you right your self, eyes seeking out another dummy, ignoring the pain begging you to stop.

But feeling pain was better than feeling that weighted void in your chest.

As if you were a super nova that imploded, pulling everything around you into the darkened abyss.

Turning it all into hollowed nothingness.

The first sparring dummy you spy seems to look at you funny, you rear your fist but before it can make contact a growl cuts out.

"You've done enough little one."

His voice dips low, borderline pissed. It is a warning and one you must obey as the air permeates with salted caramel.

But you're in no mood to deal with Katsuki, no mood to be submissive, obedient or anything relative to feeling at all.

Regardless if it's clearly for your own good. 

All you wanted, needed, was for everything to fade.

And maybe to black.

But it doesn't instead he advances hand finding your wrist with a sharp grip, that softens only to assess. Turning your wrist this way and that with heated calculating eyes, before he rips off your weighted vest with a growl. Lifting your shirt to reveal blush black painted beneath your smooth skin.  His finger prods your ribs and when he counts them in his head he snarls. You watch his muscles twitch as he holds himself. Muscles that had grown twice their size since first year and yet you were left unchanging.

"Training is futile, you'll always be puny."

You rip your wrist free, teeth bared at an already snarling Bakugou.

"Not. Now." You misread his actions beneath the initial rage. He is concerned but all you see is punishment in his eyes 

Disappointment.

You look over Katsuki's sculpted shoulder to see Kirishima waiting at the door with glistening ruby eyes that seem to be torn.

Who does he support? How can he defuse this? 

"You're fucking hurt." The blonde bites out venom.

"I'm fucking fine. Drop it!" You shove past him slamming your shoulder into his. He wants so badly to reach for you. To yank you back to him so you can look him in his angry scarlet eyes.

"Oh so the blood on the floor means you're fine? Your cracked ribs and bruised to fuck all body means you're fine?!" His temper shows with deadly pops that dance along his skin.

You weight him and Kirishima down gently as you leave, hoping it slows them down long enough for you to return to the safety of your dorm room.

Katuski snarls as he walks with leaded feet, as if walking through mud under the influence of a muscle relaxer.  But he and Kirishima have trained with you plenty of times, not to mention they are exposed to your increased pull.

"Maybe we should give them sometime? They are upset, babe." Kirishima offers only to be met with a glowering glare. 

"I've tried listening to you, I've tried it your way and look what has happened." A snarl so low that Kirishima feels his gut twist.

"But..."

"But what?" He turns on his lover quickly, "We gave them two weeks of no contact. This is clearly a symptom we need to bisect before they kill themselves over some stupid fucking training."

Kirishima can do nothing but follow as Bakugou stalks you up the steps that you stomp.

You're seething, steam rising from your skin with each heavy breath as your vision blurs between rational thought and white hot rage.

Rage that is always so easy to give into. Especially when your only other option is immobilzing sadness. Before you know it Bakugou is barking at you from the jamb of the door while your ruby haired boyfriend presses gently against his back.

Trying to remind him that his own irate reaction could further the situation, Bakugou feels it but it is lost as you strip to change. You rip the velcro from your wrists, dropping the fifty pounds weights with a harsh thud. The floor rattles the items on your desk and even the window before you move onto the hundred pound weights on your ankles.

Grumbling as you think of your two hundred and fifty pound vest abandoned in the gym. How hard had Bakugou torn it from your strong yet sleek frame?

Would you have to take it to the support class?

You strip your shirt and then your pants as two sets of red eyes gauge different reactions. 

Rubies widen, shining with the threat of tears. While blood scarlet narrow with burning, hot, wrath.

Katsuki knew you were bruised, he knew you had those broken ribs and he knew you were set out of rehabilitation probation due to injuries but he did not know the extent of them.

And how the fuck could he? What with you locking yourself away in your room, refusing to text them, refusing to eat the meals cooked and left for you.

Refusing help as you promised you would not do.

Katsuki's warning signs of blowing do not go unnoticed, a strong hand wraps around his hip. Squeezing, hoping to convey the softness the ash blonde so desperately needs.

It works, at least as far as his quirk goes. Bakugou Katsuki  could erupt in more than one way.

"What. The. FUCK?!" He goes to take a step in but Kirishima keeps his grip tight. But that does not stop the tongue lashing you get. Bakugou takes a large slow breath, as you once taught him and snorts it out like a dragon.

"You promised you would stop doing this..." His voice, once soothing now grating your last nerve, "You fucking promised, damn it."

Kirishima gives another small squeeze before piping up.

"We are just worried about you, love. Very worried." His voice cracks at the end, causing Katsuki to look over his shoulder.

The tears well faster over dancing garnets.

From the weight of the guilt something in you finally snaps. The room blurs as you subconsciously pull the force to you, items slowly crushing beneath the weight as you lunge for the first thing you can wrap burning hands on.

Your desk chair to which your hurl while screaming

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Your hot headed boyfriend catches the chair with ease, exploding it on impact.

With an angry enough blast that the paint on the ceiling and walls peel.

Oh if Bakugou wasn't pissed at you before he was now.

And not angry over the fact that you've thrown something at him.

But over the simple fact that you were hurting in deadly silence. So badly suffering that you cannot even rationally express yourself anymore.

And more over he is pissed he has let it get this far.

The glass of your window shatters behind you, both from your exertion and his explosion pulling you into the here and now.

The room spirals as quickly as you do, suddenly forgetting how to breath. Gasping as a fish does out of water before you fall to your knees. The two men rush to you, fearing you'll lose yourself in your panic. Two sets of strong arms wrap around you both crushing you between them.

"You're okay." Kirishima soothes, "You're okay. Just breathe."

Nails bite into toned flesh though you are unsure which unfortunate mail is receiving the half blood moons as tears prick your eyes. Falling towards the Earth as much as you wish they wouldn't. Your stomach lurches, your side screams but it does not stop the racks of sobs that tremor through your body.

You come undone in the worst way before the very two men you wanted, needed to be strong in front of. There was already a detrimental gap between your development and theirs.  In every fucking aspect you could think of.

Muscle mass.

Durability.

Capability.

The list could go on.

After some time Bakugou coos to you.

"Now tell me what's wrong."

Kirishima places his head between your shoulder blades, reaching out for Bakugou's hand.

"I...I'm behind. I... I cannot even train right." Tears slip over ruddy cheeks that Katuski gently wipes away.

"Behind how?" Kirishima prompts, letting lazy circles trace your stomach.

"On my first mission I get put on recovery suspension, I worked so so so *hard* to even get that hero to agree to take me on and yet I fucked it all up!" Another frustrated sob that has you hiccuping for a moment. You watch Bakugou's face turn to stone as he tries to calm himself.

"I almost died on one of my first big missions. I sat out for a long time, this was a little bit before you transferred." Kirishima admits, "Resting and PT made me stronger."

"Hell I was behind at one point too. I couldn't even fucking pass the provisional!" Katsuki growls at the thought.

"Neither could Todoroki-kun." Kirishima adds.

"But you three...you three are strong. I'm so....weak." With that Bakugou snaps.

"You think I can run with a two hundred fifty pound weight on my chest and keep pace with Iida's jog? Do you think Kirishima could hold down twenty fucking tweaked out villians at once?" His voice is gruff but his hands are soft as he lifts your chin, purposefully making you hold his gaze as he speaks, "Answer me, little one."

"N...no." You sob, Kirishima's strong arm squeezes tigher around your middle, careful to avoid your ribs, as he peppers kisses over your blackened shoulders.

"Just because your body does not reflect mine or Eijiro's does not mean you are weak. You are strong Y/N. Real fucking strong." He kisses you softly, capturing your lips tenderly as Kirishima kisses along your throat.

"Share this weight with us." Bakugou breathes out after pulling away.

"Its not weak to cry or ask for help baby." Kirishima whispers in your ear, your eyes look over your sturdy shoulder before they fall to their hands intertwined. You notice Bakugou's knuckles turning white. Had you really made them worry this much?

"Isn't that right Suki?" Eji asks, resting his chin in your shoulder. Katsuki looks at him for a long time, this man and you have helped him more than he would ever like to admit. But if this is what brought that natural magnetism about you that attracted him in the first place he'd say it 

Fuck, if it brought that blinding smile of yours back to your kissable lips he'd scream if from the fucking roof.

"Yes." He lets out a shaky sigh, "Now please, please let us help you little one."

Searching his eyes you wonder if there will ever be a time when you will stop feeling this way.

When you will stop feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders over little to nothing at all.

When you will stop feeling that black hole that crawled into your chest weighing you down and making you weightless all at once.

When you will stop the haunting feeling of sadness that lingers on the fringes of your every thought, tainting every memory and moment with its shimmering darkness.

You wonder if this cancer, if this demon that has since crawled into your chest and devoured your heart whole will ever die.

Scarlet eyes soften as they rove over your lovely features, strong arms support you from behind and you know what the answer is.

The answer is no.

It will never die, never cease to exist, never leave you alone. It will stay with you until you lie motionless forever and even then it will crawl into your casket cradling your cooling skin.

But you will not stop fighting.

Cannot stop fighting because of the small sliver of a feeling you have now.

The love that resiliently blooms despite the pressure, despite the darkness, despite it being trampled over and fucking over.

You know that these two men are not your worth nor or they your reason for being and even if, Kamisama forbid, you three broke up, you would fight on.

Tooth and nail keeping this demon under the ball of your steel toed boot.

Because in the end, after it is all said in done you will do anything to feel this.

This hope and love that radiates from within. You sigh out a shaky sigh, releasing the tension of your shoulders and the constant pressure you've kept on yourself since that mission, your shoulders sag from relief.

"Thank you, thank you for baring this with me." You squeeze their arms respectively as you speak to them both at once, "I love you."

They speak in unison their two tones melding together and soothing over your skin like an ointment.

"I love you too."