#problem with her is that she didn't Amuse Me enough to distract from the bad writing . which is the Most Important Thing 🙄 (<-Lighthearted)< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[kiwipineappleparasol]

I saw your tierlist! love the blackbright (Blackquill x Fulbright) appreciation!! your tierlist is actually pretty swag, but I do have like one question and that is how come you don't get junithena (Juniper x Athena?) just curious!

(also I feel like you probably know these ship names so it's weird for me to add the explanations but I'm doing it anyway just in case)

(I had typed out a whole response right. and Tumblr. and Tumblr Ate It. In front of my Eyes. It even Said so. so you are Spared with this being a bit more Brief since I have to retype Everything . as it did not have the Kindness to save it as a Draft 👹)

(Also I do know These Ones at least but I do Appreciate it . I think ship names are a Little Goofy sounding though so I tend not to use them but I will take this into account in Tagging things 👍)

But Glad to hear my takes are Swag 😎 of course I gotta appreciate the Silly Guys (as I like refer to them . like it's my own Ship Name for these guys) I Mourn the Hilarious dynamic and Interesting things they Could've had if Dual Destinies didn't Hate Me In Particular. Curse You Dual Destinies. Guess I have to do it Myself 🙄 (Lighthearted Statement)

Anyways I realize that I put it Juniper x Athena in the wrong tier (Classic me mixing things up and only realizing it in Retrospect moment) I do Understand why people would ship them - on a surface level, y'know they're childhood friends, have Nicknames and all that Jazz. Not for me though. (So it would have been the Yellow Tier) But to Elaborate:

It's a disconnect I have with Juniper as a character -- it soured her dynamic with Athena for me. There's something about Juniper's portrayal, in conjunction with some of her actions that just rubbed me the wrong way. The vibes were off, shall we say. (I wrote a bit as to why but Uh….. It got sent to the Ether. Thanks Tumblr. I might go into it Another Day)

I guess I'll just say Turnabout Academy didn't really convince me that the characters were good friends -- even though that was The Point? I dunno (my Ability to word my points has Gone down the Drain 💀)

Point Being: Certain aspects of Juniper's whole deal impacted how I saw their dynamic Which didn't exactly lend itself to Romance in my eyes (Outside the fact Juniper is Canonically waxing Poetically about how Apollo makes her feel like she's Photosynthesizing Lmao) and I'm just not a Huge Juniper Fan as she exists in canon. Love her Design though 👍

[lachelledavies-winchester]

"You're wearing me out, baby. The chupa chups move the other day was so unfair."

"Don't call me baby," she warned him, but his hand on her butt distracted her and she went back on the attack. "Too bad I had something bigger in mind."

The man returned the piercing stare as he saw her slowly descend, kneeling down and unbuttoning his belt with a bold smirk.

"What's on your mind?"

"What does it look like to you? I'm helping a friend get distracted."

"Far be it from me to refuse, but if they come in..."

"Then I see you are already distracted enough not to have noticed that I closed the hook."

The woman could feel the heat of his greedy gaze making her skin burn; she could no longer hold back all that excitement, she needed to let off steam.

"Come on, no porn dialogue? You know I'm not amused." she provoked him, and he smiled.

"Look what you've done. Why don't you fix the problem with that pretty little mouth?"

"No, I don't want to." she grumbled in a high-pitched voice but continued to curl a few strands with a finger and smile mischievously to let him know she was playing along. 

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear; did you think I would let you be a little slut without consequences?" the hunter's voice was almost a grunt, and those words made her skin crawl with excitement. 

He gave her a softer look, and she smiled to reassure him that it was okay with her. 

"I'm not the type to let you do something that I don't want. It's your turn to show me how you like it."

With a sharp gesture he pushed her head forward to his erection.

"Good girl, take it all." he first gave her a few slaps on the cheek.

"I don't know what to do, sir. I never have."

"Oh no?" the man whispered with effort.

He took to rubbing and slamming his member on the provocative face of the woman, who kept waiting for him with her tongue out.

"Oh, do you see you're good? Let me see what you can do with that tongue." he gasped as he watched her work on him without taking his eyes off her. 

The red-hot flattened tongue brushed each spot as he took it out of her mouth, then descended slowly and helped herself with one hand so as not to overlook anything.

"How good you are." he whispered to her, enjoying the sensation of her moist mouth swallowing his length, caressing her face and gathering her hair to one side.

He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, squinting his eyes from the pleasure that was making him let out increasingly loud moans.

"You idiot, they can hear you even in Canada like this." "Please continue." he moaned and with a hand on her head pulled her to him; he loved being in control, it gave him the feeling that not all of life was at the mercy of events he couldn't handle, and she liked to have someone else tell her what to do from, but she liked surrendering dominance as much as having it and she was certain that at that point she had the upper hand-literally.

"Now tell me 'I lost, you won.'"

"What a son of a bitch."

"I'm waiting." she urged. The Winchester closed his eyes as she continued, more ruthless than ever, rising and falling on his ledge slowly and forcing him to gasp out one moan after another. "Say it." 

"All right, you win." he blurted out and took to thrusting his pelvis to independently manage the rhythm until he burst with pleasure, but managed to pull out before he finished, a gesture that Lachelle could not help but register, appreciating it as much as she appreciated that he had continually asked her permission with even a glance, making her feel the urge to try without disrespecting her.

[titanicfreija]

Distractions

Sunny found the empress in the Hall of Heroes, standing tall at the doorway they normally started through. "You wanted to talk?" the Ghost asked sweetly.

Caiatl grunted and turned to lumber down the hallway, posture heavy and steps plodding. "I wanted you to talk. I am weary and would appreciate the company of a friend," she replied.

Sunny whirled around and wheeled. It was a relief that she knew Sunny needed the instructions, she must have been getting used to her habits.

"I have good news, then! We got to dig into Thomas's previous life, and Freija asked him about his history! Rex never told us! I have no idea wh-- actually, I do."

Caiatl's relief showed immediately, shoulders relaxing and weight resting on her heels. Her breath even slowed down.

Sunny figured she would only be half listening, but she was happy to have the audience, and even happier to be a relief to someone that needed it.

~

"So this roommate, of whom you speak quite lowly, was a Warlord?" the empress asked jovially.

"See, that's my favorite part about it-- he said no. He says no, but then every single time he tries to defend his point, he fails. He even gives up and says yes, but then if you say it later, he tries to say no again! I don't understand it. He said he wasn't proud of it, but he even thought about hiding it when they were talking about it!"

"They were not good times for your people. From the sound of it, he did not want to be a Warlord. I personally am on his side of this-- if he does not call himself a Warlord, regardless of his role played, he was not one. I am surprised to hear this. Was his skill always so limited?"

Sunny groaned and swept into a huge circle. "I don't even-- he's not big with his jump, which a lot of Guardians consider to be an important thing. He really is terrible at anything except clearing gaps with a good run-up on flat terrain. But he's fine on the ground. And he can shoot really well, I didn't even know that, and really, he's not bad, it's just that his Ghost is a jerk and he can't be bothered to put up with it enough to shake off the rust and gather some momentum!"

Caiatl grunted. "This Rex. Does he believe Thomas qualified as a Warlord?"

"You know, I don't know," Sunny mused. "Thomas did say he misses those days. Rex didn't say anything himself, he was grouchy that whole trip. He's jealous of me and Freija, they both are, no one is being secretive about knowing. They can't help it, and really, we can't either. The weirdest stuff can bother them, and sometimes I get it but other times I'm just confused."

"Their bond is...?"

"I don't know if you mean bond like the love I mean or like the connection Freija talks about."

"If you will clarify, I will accept any answer."

Sunny wondered briefly if the thing that connected a Ghost and Guardian could be disrupted at all. "The love like I mean, they're... Not in a good place. Rex gets spiteful and apparently won't heal under certain circumstances, and I did know he had problems with his scanner bandwidth range, but I didn't realize how bad, so even the few times he does help, he's not as helpful as, say, I am, just because he can't. Which... If he's been trying to make Thomas make up for things he can't do.... It's rough. They make me feel lucky. They make me feel lucky when we're fighting. But as far as I can tell, they're just as much Ghost and Guardian as Freija and I are. He's actually a great fighter, he really is. It's a shame."

Caiatl "hmphed". Something in it sounded amused. "This is an interesting account. I would not have imagined that a Guardian and their Ghost would be so at odds. It seems counterintuitive."

"People are people," Sunny sighed. "Even an obligatory mutual symbiont. Rex started it, but I think he started it out of something pathetic instead of something mean. Thomas might have been mean back, back then. He's so kind, now. If a little resentful, I can smell that without olfactory sensors."

"How old are they? How long ago was this rift formed between them?"

Sunny wheeled. "I have no idea. Thomas had indicated that it was the library, which means the Tower's formation a couple hundred years ago, but the story he told made it sound earlier than that."

"I would like to witness this discordance," Caiatl chuckled.

"I don't," grumbled Sunny. "They make me feel bad. Sometimes even a little guilty for being friends with Freija in front of them. The look on Thomas's face when I gave Freija her backpack before she asked for it.... I feel bad for Thomas sometimes because I know Rex just can't, but there's lots he can and won't. It's just... Sad."

"And yet he, like any other, kept a band of mortals," she chuckled. "Out of a sense of obligation, as I understand it. Was this Rex supportive?"

"I got a real keen sense that he wasn't." Sunny turned to see Caiatl's tusks bobbing thoughtfully. "I don't know. I literally can't imagine what would make me act like that at Freija. I know he thought he could drive Thomas into being more than he is, but he was mean about it. We've all tried to help, but Rex is too angry about being wrong to correct his mistake. And he gets to see where my incessant cheering on has gotten Freija, someone he considered to be far lesser than Thomas as long as he could get away with it, and that just makes him so angry."

"You seem to simultaneously pity and dislike this Rex. And yet you call him friend?"

"I can love someone I don't like," Sunny said. "I wish I could help them. Freija wants to, too, but neither of us know what to do. Rex is angry and wants to be angry. Thomas is.... Just.... He's so kind, patient, he loves Rex, I think. Feels sorry for him, too. I don't know. They... It's so weird. And sad."

Caiatl chortled and heaved a long sigh. "Somehow, it is a relief to know that even bonds so deep do not guarantee harmony. They do work together?"

"Only in combat. It's one thing Rex can do well, and it's what he wants to do. Thomas is good at it, too, as long as what you need is cover fire. His threadlings will dissolve Vex almost as fast as his needles can unmake them, and once he's linked the needles into his gun, he can send that magic everywhere. But he's not tough. And he's real bad about getting caught out, I think it's him and Rex both being bad at spatial awareness. He has to stay in the back. Rex hates it."

"This Thomas has aligned strongly with the Darkness?" Now the amusement turned to real interest. "Do you suppose there is a link between their weak relationship and his ability to use the Darkness? Does the Ghost facilitate the Darkness the same as the Light?"

Sunny wagged a "no". "Guardians are paracausal-- outside causality, able to break the rules of physics and create matter or manipulate the intangible forces of the universe. So it allows for manipulation of Darkness. I think. I don't know for sure. But anyway-- no, I really don't. Rex likes the Darkness, too, he says. He could just be saying it for effect, but he says Stasis feels minty and strand feels like to swimming in warm water, and he likes both of them. It's been a big relief to them both. We thought it would help them, but they're stuck in their ways. Rex refuses to help Thomas do anything but fight, and Thomas doesn't like fighting. He hates getting shot, he hates dying, and he doesn't like working with anyone at the same time as needing backup." She rolled in the air and wheeled her petals. "That's one thing he is jealous about, Freija is so stupid and headstrong and he would love Thomas to be so combat-ready. Thomas would, too, I think."

Caiatl chewed on that one, too. "Do you think he would be happier with her? Or a Guardian like her?"

Sunny wagged another negative. "I think he'd hate her and anyone else like her. He doesn't know what he wants. If he had Freija, if he tried to tell her to do anything, she'd fight with him first. Anyone like her would do the same. He can't be nice, and Freija doesn't respond well to authority."

Caiatl rumbled another laugh. "She responds to real authority well enough. She knows Rex is not her superior."

Sunny wanted to argue but then she remembered Neomuna. Yeah, fair enough.

"Do you feel a Guardian like Thomas would relieve you of the guilt you suffer for raising a soldier?"

"Eternally bound to the fight," she sighed. She hadn't considered it. "I would ... Probably feel like Rex. Like I wasn't doing enough. I like to think I wouldn't scare my Guardian away from me. I... I don't know what's wrong with Rex."

"You feel he is ungrateful?"

"He had Thomas for five hundred years before I found her and he was disappointed from the first day because he didn't want to get shot. I feel like it's blasphemy to be disappointed in your Guardian like he is. Something about it should feel wrong to him, if you ask me. I think it might and that's what makes him feel like that."

Caiatl chortled. "Is there a grander belief that one can blaspheme?"

Sunny didn't even think about it when she said it. "I mean.... Some of us think we were all created with a purpose and a single Guardian out there to find. Some of us think we happened by accident, tiny fragments of the Traveler trying to save ourselves, and the connections to the Chosen are happenstance, or are something else magical. Some of us think that we were created to fight, or defend humans. It varies by who you ask."

"Your personal belief?"

Sunny paused to consider it. She hadn't rethought it in a while. "Well, I believe that... We were created unintentionally. I also believe that no individual holds the spark for an individual Ghost. We have our Chosens, but to think that we were all created a thousand years ago to look for people that wouldn't be born, let alone die, for centuries..... Bodies decay. To think that anyone could miss their chance just because the body rotted... To think that the Traveler created some Ghosts to die... I don't think it did. Really, I don't think it did just because there's too many of us. I think it broke and we're just dust that came off it. I think the bodies we're drawn to call us, but I don't think it's any single one-- I think more than one holds our spark. But maybe not at a time, or maybe it's spread out until I feed the one that grows, like the one seed of three planted."

Caiatl silently considered this for a time, gazing ahead. She then smirked. "I do not envy your position. I would suffer many doubts, more than you, I think."

"I... Honestly, I don't know. It all comes down to the fact that, if we don't fight, there will be nothing left to fight for. And I have Freija, and she wants to fight, so fight we will. Terrifying as that is."

"Your courage is seen," Caiatl promised.

"Your strength is, too, but remember that you have to rest," Sunny said, seeing the light fade in her eyes. "Do you sleep? You should probably sleep."

Her weight rocked back to her heels and her face plate shifted as her tusks lifted. Her eyelids still drooped. "We sleep. I will. I am glad to see you. I will entertain you, next time." Caiatl put a fist to her chest and bowed, an unusually stuffy gesture.

Sunny nudged the tip of her helmet. She was pretty sure it was the first time she touched the empress, even that little bit. Caiatl chuckled as she drew back to her full height.

"You must be tired, defaulting to formality like that," the Ghost observed. "See if Nimbus will hide you for an hour or so?"

"I will steal the sleep I can," she promised. "How is your Guardian?"

"Standing ground with fire and hammer," Sunny said. "It can be so beautiful, even amongst the horror."

"Her fires are indeed," agreed Caiatl. "I look forward to our next meeting. Farewell.

@wolvereaux. @annieruok94

[tododeku-or-bust]

Delighted to hear that you are up to the WIP game! So if you do not mind, care to share us some snippets of the young iliad series(before/after the baby i don't mind which one)?

Gotta be honest, while i REALLY appreciate the interest, I'm kinda burned out of those HCs rn 😭 While I'm still working on the main story, if i haven't said it on here by now i haven't thought of it yet. I need some time to catch up with myself. So instead, i just wrote you a short story of a pre-existing HC and visual that i liked and modified. Hope this suffices 👍🏾 Phi is six in this story.

---

The thunder rumbles in the distance, only a couple seconds before the rain falls down in loud sheets. Achilles stares out the kitchen window, calmed by the soothing sound. They've needed some rain; it's been uncomfortably hot, the air sticky with humidity.

There's another flash of lightning, so bright that it stuns him, followed by a devastating clap of thunder so loud it shakes the house. Uh oh. A scramble of fast feet, followed by a collision into his legs. He gently smiles, lifting a shivering Philia into his arms.

"Still scary?"

Philia whimpers her agreement, gripping his shirt tight as she hides her face. After one bad storm took the power out, they'd been going through a process over thunderstorms, explaining to Philia that she was just fine, that it's just the loud rain that brings the fun puddles and the pretty rainbows that you love.

Achilles wonders if maybe they're approaching it the wrong way. They've told her that she's valid in her fears, that she's safe; they've held her, sang songs, every distraction they could. Nothing seems to work- Philia just clams up in a tense silence and cling. It's a little frustrating; he didn't have these problems as a child, he enjoyed playing in the rain-

He blinks. Maybe...

"You know what I think?" He slyly asks Philia. She lifts her wide green eyes, blinking at him.

"I think the thunder is a giant dragon- and a bully! He thinks he can yell at anyone he wants! We should yell back!"

Philia narrows her eyes in disbelief. Really, Daddy? Achilles doesn't crack.

"I'm serious! Here, let's go put our jackets on. Just trust me, okay?"

Philia dons her bright yellow jacket with its oversized hood and rain boots like armor, a fearful yet trusting expression for her father as they stare out at the storm.

"You ready?" Achilles asks. She jumps back into his arms, steeled for battle. He opens up the door and enters the downpour. The wind isn't blowing too hard and it's still midday, so it's easy enough to see from the porch.

"When the thunder roars, we'll roar back, okay? You have to be ready!"

Just then, the lightning flashes. Philia's grip clenches with fear, but the moment the thunder rumbles, Achilles roars. It's a playful sound, not nearly the volume he is capable of, but it's just enough to stun Philia. He grins at her flabbergasted face.

"Your turn. Use your loudest outside voice."

He puts her down, though she still squeezes her back into his knees. The lightning flashes, and she steels her shoulders, taking a deep, shaky breath. When the thunder begins, Philia shouts, loud and nervous. She seems surprised at herself afterwards.

"I did it, Daddy," she whispers, looking up at Achilles for encouragement.

"Good job! Keep going," he replies, nudging her forward. Philia's expression glows, first from happiness, then determination. She charges out into the rain, waiting. This time she exaggerates her inhale and roars, her body curling forward with effort. She collapses into giggles, stomping her feet with excitement.

Soon she's sprinting around the backyard, splashing in puddles, wielding sticks and 'fighting' the storm while roaring like a madgirl. Achilles watches proudly, only turning when a small knock gets his attention. Patroclus watches Philia play with an amused expression. Behind him, steaming mugs and a plate of sandwiches lay on the island. Achilles beams, opening the door.

"Don't touch me with those wet clothes," Patroclus steps back to avoid the water, brow raised. "Bring her in soon so you both don't get sick. You know this could have gone much worse."

Achilles grimaces. "Yeah, but I'd have brought her back in if she didn't respond well! And now she looks so happy! What fear? It all worked out."

Patroclus only sighs fondly. Then he says something that makes Achilles' face freeze.

"You know this means she's going to want to do this every time, right?"

----

(remember that scene when Simba roars and it sucks, then you hear Mufasa? Yeah that's these two 🤣) Hope everyone reading enjoyed 👍🏾

[white--moon]

He's not even sure it'd be a problem to have another guy here. His cop buddy knows he sleeps around. It would be a problem specifically because it's Ichigo. Because Shiro doesn't know how to be casual and unattached with Ichigo. It's different when whoever he sleeps with means nothing to him, but his maybe-partner would know immediately that Ichigo doesn't mean nothing.

He turns a dour look on Ichigo when he finishes the cops are shooting at him statement, as if the thought actually needed finished. "I still don't think he's part of it." He feels like he needs to stick up for him, and for himself, but, "I just... can't be sure." He rolls his eyes when Ichigo amends that he wouldn't go far. What was that about puking if he became Shiro's security and had to hear him and his boyfriend banging? "Is what what's bothering me?" He tries to sound disinterested while he asks, but changes his mind. It doesn't matter what Ichigo's talking about, the answer is the same. "Yes. It's bothering me. Everything is bothering me. Everything about this whole situation is bothering me."

It's kind of amusing to watch Ichigo go for his clothes like a needy little vulture. It's fun, and it's an easy distraction, especially when he pulls out a sweater that couldn't get much sluttier. Gods. Maybe this is a bad idea. He scoffs. "I meant like a fuckin' sticky note or something, maybe sharpie on my arm or a text to wake up to. I didn't mean a body swingin' from my chandelier." He's really just upset about the audacity of it, and to a lesser extent, the mess. A murder doesn't bother him in the slightest. A body that wasn't a bloody mess even would have been fine. Or as fine as he could be about Ichigo taking matters into his own hands, at least.

Even in a weird headspace in which is mood is rollercoastering up and down, his eyes stray naked skin while Ichigo changes. His answer is a bit distracted. "A middle aged single mother of too many kids. Same lady who's been detailing my car for years. She wont touch bodies or parts, so I take care of that myself, but she finishes what's left without asking questions." He pays her upfront in cash and usually tips her when she's done. "She has a maid service. I can give you her number. Tell her I sent you and she'll be discreet, but don't tell anyone else. She's not our kind of professional, she doesn't wanna get involved. She just wants to pay her bills and keep her kids." He watches Ichigo lace up his boots and can't decide if he wants the boots to stay on or if he wants to untie them with his teeth. He snorts a small laugh. "I was still getting used to having enough to go around. You get protective of things you used to go without."

Wandering his own halls by himself isn't exactly new or unusual, but it feels particularly hollow and lonely. He pauses to turn the temperature warmer by a couple of degrees when he passes the thermostat, but he's pretty sure it's not actually cold in his house. It's just him.

He detours to a sitting area he doesn't actually use often. It's used by party guests more than anything. But it has a needlessly large television, which he turns on just to flip through news stations for a few minutes, to see what's being said about him and the car bombing and the shooting. It pays to stay at least semi up to date on current events, especially the events that directly relate to him. He flips channels for fifteen minutes, but it's still so fresh that the stations are still mostly just replaying footage and describing the scene, not speculating or making things up. That'll change, he knows, but for now, replay after replay of what happened isn't really what he wants to see. It wasn't the first time his life has been threatened, nor the first time he's been shot at, but he's been feeling particularly fragile this whole day. He sighs, closes his eyes and scrubs at his face for a second, pushing away thoughts of everything he's got in this mansion that could help him slow down, mellow out. He told Ichigo he wouldn't. But Ichigo's another sore subject to think about.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, glancing at the time absently as he dials. His on again/off again, not-boyfriend picks up on the first ring, sounding calm, but the kind of calm that comes from professionalism and not true calm. His voice is quiet, making Shiro think he must be either at work or around people that don't need to overhear who he's talking to.

Shiro feels distracted and isn't quite sure why he called. Because he needs a chaperone. Because he's stupid.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He says into the phone for a third time as he steps into his room to finally start digging out clothes for Ichigo.

His bathroom light is on and he pauses, free hand straying to the handle of his switch blade, before it occurs to him that it's probably Ichigo. There's a delay in his response that a cop wouldn't miss. "No, don't worry about it. I'm not gonna stay here." His not-boyfriend sounds worried in that controlled, trying not to sound worried way. It makes Shiro feel guilty as hell, especially when steps to a place in the room that lets him see into the bathroom and he confirms that it's Ichigo. "I dunno, I haven't decided. Might stay at the penthouse for a while, might get outta town for a few days- Yeah, I know... I'll text you, ok?" He waits a beat, then hangs up the call.

[tiredrobin]

"I think I should be allowed to kill."

This earns a reaction from Pin-Lee, if glancing over at me could be considered a reaction. "Oh, yeah?" she asks. She's distracted and unconcerned. Rude.

"You shouldn't have shown it the thread," Arada says with a grin.

"I think murder is the answer to all of my problems," I insist.

Overse is sort of hanging off of Arada on the couch, draped in a weird way that can't be comfortable. Arada does not appear to notice. "What thread? About what?"

"Don't—"

"Humans are stupid and have dumb opinions and I think I should be allowed to kill everyone who is wrong."

Overse's eyes go a little wide. "Is this about one of your shows?"

"Yes," I hiss emphatically.

Overse looks at Pin-Lee with mild horror. "What did you do?"

"I saw a Sanctuary Moon thing and sent it to SecUnit. I didn't realize there was a connection to a discussion board attached to the message bundle until..." she gestures vaguely in my direction, making a face that I can't make out. None of my drones are positioned well enough to see her easily. I'm pretty sure she's mostly amused, though.

None of my humans are taking me seriously. I would be offended, but I'm too busy being unreasonably angry about bad opinions regarding my comfort show. "I think you should include in my argument for full citizenship on Preservation the right for me to take lives indiscriminately."

"Might not go over too well," Pin-Lee dismisses.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you, too."

Arada looks like she's both trying not to laugh and trying not to look too concerned. "Are you okay?" she asks me.

I can't really tell if it's a serious question or not. I also never know how to answer that question unless I'm doing terrible, in which case I don't mind making it known. "I'm pissed enough to rip someone's head off their shoulders."

Okay, yes, that's a bit of an exaggeration. Humans are stupid and foolish and make terrible decisions all the time, so it'd be unfair of me to expect them to be smart about story arcs. I want to be offended, though, so I am offended, and I won't keep it to myself. No more quiet and self-contained Murderbot today, thank you very much.

Arada does laugh, at least. She has a fine laugh. I get a funny look from Overse and nothing more from Pin-Lee. No one appears to have anything more to say on the subject. Looks like I might end up fuming in silence anyway.

(I've always known about discussion boards, obviously. Back when I first discovered the entertainment feed, I also found my way to threads and forums and discussions about things produced and shared on said feed. On my second tentative download I had managed to include some of those threads, and I spent maybe an hour perusing page after page of bad human opinions before trashing the whole thing.

I downloaded more the next time I had access to the entertainment feed. I lasted ten minutes more before trashing it all again. I think I did that six or seven times before giving up entirely; back then, I was mostly confusedly frustrated or passively annoyed, and it wasn't worth the processing space.

Now, though, and with better context for my emotions, it's kind of fun to be so annoyed.

Kind of.

I probably won't go out of my way to do this again. I've had more than enough with humans being dumb. Inflicting this upon myself of my own volition is more torturous than anything.)

[elvisabutler]

I hate that I love the Austin x Presley!reader stuff 😫 Do you have any more?

never hate something you like, bestie, besides, promise i was all like i don't know how i feel about this re: my last one. also. i like how i said oh i'll only do one and now i'm doing a second. i'll basically now just say if you want these you can request them with like no guarantee i'll get them done. purely i'm doing this one because i have actual filth coming down the line and i think my poor brain just wants some fluff before i write said filth. tw: brief mention of elvis's death and implication of violence. also! gender neutral reader because i do what i want.

so consider. your mom really does like austin from like the second she meets him. it's really weird because normally she hates your partners. she loves you, but she knows that you suffer from the same problem she does of picking interesting people to date.

austin has never been so relieved as he was when your mom welcomed him with open arms. come to think of it, you swear he looks like he belongs there just being hugged so tightly by her.

at that 24 hour diner he takes you to on your first date you order something that- well it puts your grandpa's eating habits to shame and austin has to stay in mild horror and amusement while eating something simple. probably eggs and toast because he's in a simple mood.

"do i got something on my face?" "ketchup, i think? i don't know it might have been the tabasco sauce? it's red, babe." "ya callin' me babe like i'm your partner already?" "y/n-" "teasin' you darlin' i know you're all worried about dating me." "you know it's not you right?" "it's just you? austin you're flattering yourself too much. people are gonna think i'm the weird one dating you."

you're right on that front, because every bad article that comes out about you accuses you of daddy issues and one memorable one says something to the effect of it wouldn't be the first time the presleys did something this gross.

austin has to talk you out of marching down to the offices of the magazine and ripping them a new one.

"i already have to hear enough bullshit about my mama and my grandpa. we're not perfect but you'd have thought they were waiting on another scandal." "this won't make it better. it'll make it worse." "it'll make me feel better seeing him with a broken nose." "i don't have the bail money." "i do."

you specifically try and keep your dates with austin low key except for the ones that are on your anniversary or either one of your birthdays. that's when you both pull out all the stops.

austin's first birthday with you is what you like to call the presley experience. which is to say that you tell him to tell you his favorite places in the us or canada and maybe you end up flying him to each one of those places and ending at your apartment in tennessee.

"you didn't have to do that." "look, i like you a lot. maybe i even love you. you're- i've been looking for someone who can reel me in when i'm showing my temper." "and that means spending more money than you should have on me." "yeah." "if i do this on your birthday?" "i won't complain."

the thing about your birthday is you don't like celebrating it. maybe it's too close to your grandpa's birthday or maybe it's too close to his death day but you normally will find something simple to do that distracts you from the day and you hate getting presents on it.

austin gives you a treasure hunt for the day that spans all of one city. maybe it's new york city, maybe it's memphis or maybe it's anaheim but it distracts you the whole day and is peppered with gifts that you don't realize are gifts until the end of the hunt when you find austin with a little bowtie and a smirk.

"you said you don't like gifts but you have an armful of them." "you tricked me." "you said i could spoil you." "you're a menace, mr. butler." "only for you mx. presley."

your friends like him.

his friends like you.

ashley appoints you an honorary godparent to jupiter after seeing you play rocket ship with her.

austin asks if you want kids after that visit.

maybe you do. maybe you don't. he's okay with either answer.

you do adopt a dog after that.

and move in together.

if the first day that you're all moved in and unpacked there's a mixture of jazz and elvis coming from two different stereos, well you think you've never heard a sweeter sound in your life.

that's a lie, once austin starts singing along to elvis and you start singing along to the jazz? that's the sweetest sound you've ever heard.

"i've got you under my skin." "would it be a sin if i can't help falling in love with you?"

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Thoughts on ADHD?

I've found myself in a lot of situations recently that I don't think a person who "didn't have ADHD" could survive.

Like I remember reading a bunch of posts about how ADHD really isn't that bad, and that all those stories about how people with ADHD can't get jobs, can't pay attention, etc. are actually just exaggerated or misinterpreted, etc. (My personal favorite example is the one where someone was fired from a position she clearly was good at and they were like "oh no we should fire her, she can't sit in the back of the class and zone out, it's not that bad." Yeah, that sounds like a lot of the worst of ADHD to me.) And I was like, "oh man, if only I knew that way back when, I could have done better"

(Also, if I'm being a bit uncharitable, I find it weird how all these posts seem to center on the "executive dysfunction" component, as if that were the only problem, when this is like, a fairly common experience among people with ADHD -- the very difficulty "executing a task" is a pretty big component, and can be enough to make a whole life a huge challenge.)

And I think that post went further than that -- the way my mom describes ADHD to me is that when I'm "on," I focus on one thing and just do it really well, to the point where people sometimes say I'm being impressive by being able to do it better than them. (This is the stuff I was talking about in my last post, when I wrote that I sometimes think I can do what I do "better" than people who are better than me.) If I'm just doing that, then I'm kind of... living with myself, I guess? This isn't really a problem, but it can be.

ADHD can be a problem when you get more executive function in your head. When you can't just focus on a task to the exclusion of all else, you get this feeling that you're actually failing at a task, because you cannot pay full attention to the task while doing many other tasks. But you just don't know what "pay full attention to the task" means -- you're just stuck doing anything that seems interesting or amusing, which can include a lot of other things. It's like a runaway process -- you can keep getting more and more interested in other things, until all the "do this task" energy is just completely depleted and all you have left is "get back to the task, you idiot." And then you realize you have totally failed the task and you have to figure out what to do about it -- which is not trivial!

At that point, you might get into the "executive dysfunction" part of the post I linked earlier, where you're aware that if you're not doing this task you should absolutely stop and do it, but your mind goes to other interesting/amusing ideas and you end up not doing the task and being angry at your mind for not doing the task. At which point you go back to the idea that you should go back and do the task, and you're still failing because you're not doing the task... because you're always getting distracted...

Like, my mom once told me I should always remember to check my e-mail even when the task at hand is "get back to that e-mail from the library," because checking my e-mail can involve looking at Facebook, and getting back to the e-mail will involve other interesting/amusing things. So I go back to my task...

... and then my mind gets distracted from the task for like ten minutes and now it's "get back to that e-mail" again, and so I go back to my task...

And then I'm "getting back to the task," but in a very abstract "executive dysfunction" way, where I get distracted once every five minutes or so and I spend five minutes thinking about the task, or I get "deeper" into "thinking about the task," so that when I get back to "getting back to the task," I'm like an hour away from where I started and it's getting harder, and the task is turning from a concrete "get back to that e-mail" into an abstract "this is really hard... do you really need to go back to that e-mail... am I the only one who would have time for...?"

And I start getting frustrated because I don't have a lot of energy, I'm only halfway into the task, and all of a sudden the abstractions are getting so thick that my mind can't actually get back to the task without "putting in ten more hours of work," and then I have to put in ten more hours of work.

[soulsuckrrs]

It was truly a wonder he wasn't doing more to annoy Eris. Being cooped up, waiting for their target to align perfectly to their plans was fucking boring and like the child he was, Cristov often did things to cause chaos and annoyance for everyone around him, even in a professional setting... especially so in a professional setting. But Eris playing along with his ridiculous antics certainly amused him and that reflected in his crooked, shit eating grin that quirked his lips at one corner across his teeth. Though his body language spoke otherwise, still very much relaxed and elbows posed against knees as he watched Eris with blue eyes, Cristov was sharp and always held an air of danger about him. Truly, he shouldn't have been in the business but Cristov was just so damn good at being bad there was really nothing else he could do. What would he do? Serve burgers from 9 to 5? Nah, he'd end up beating the shit out of the first person to pick a problem with what he'd made-- he wasn't exactly the best at being personable, that was, in a customer service way.

When it came to the intricacies of the body, what brought the most pain and the most pleasure, Cristov was an expert. He shifted in his seat just a little, chuckling softly and shaking his head some more, astonished he hadn't caused them both to throw fists already, he was losing his annoying edge it seemed. Or perhaps this little job wasn't nearly as distracting as the Russian had hoped, drawing his worries and frustrations over family drama away and focusing on the task at hand. But his regular methods of distraction and self-destruction hadn't held the same effect they used to, not in the face of the problem that was his older brother Viktor. Even the aforementioned method of getting wasted in a bar and beating the shit out of some drunk idiot who didn't know who the fuck they messed with, it hadn't been enough to get rid of that anxiety eating away at his gut.

It was a movement so fast anyone else might not have caught it but Cristov saw the angle of her wrist before that familiar whistle sounded through the air after Eris threw her knife expertly at the wall behind him because he knew she had really been aiming for him, not with how well she handled those knives of hers. His eyes didn't leave hers even as he let silence fall between them for a few moments before he finally shifted again, leaning back and rising to his feet, eyes still trained on the dangerous little scorpion across the room, one hand reaching out to take hold of the knife and pull it from the wall firmly. A shadow settled over his features, even though his grin hadn't left his lips, his dangerous aura expanded as Cristov twirled the hilt of Eris' knife between equally skilled fingers as hers and at last let his gaze leave her, dropping to the knife and inspecting it for a second before he sent it flying back to lodge soundly in the furniture next to where Eris sat with just a flick of his wrist.

"That doesn't sound like fighting, that sounds like foreplay," Cristov responded smoothly, hands moving to slide the dark jacket from his body and toss it to the sofa where he'd been sitting, rolling his neck, a little exaggeratedly as if he had hurt his neck from an oversized head moments ago, rolling out his shoulders and beckoning Eris with a curl of his fingers in a 'come at me' motion. "-- twelve seconds though? Aww, you could do better than that. C'mon, when I win in under ten seconds, you tell me your least favorite word, if you win... well, you get me on my knees," he smirked, body falling into an easily defensible stance if she so decided to launch herself across the room at him, though he had plans of kicking the coffee table at her legs if she tried that because it was unfair for anyone to fight Cristov, he just enjoyed the pain too damn much. She was correct in that astute observation, he did enjoy the taunting and the idea of being forced to his knees to beg for mercy but like all violent things it dwindled so close to pleasure Cristov couldn't deny the zip of attraction there beneath the boredom induced ire and cocky challenge.

His body was made to be a weapon. Seeking out every day people to throw fists with was an unfair thing of Cristov to do, more often than not though, he did it in the worst of times. Even now, when they were laying low, waiting their target out, he wanted to let that streak of heat and violence take over, release the pent up anger he held towards his mother and eldest brother, towards the world and most of all himself. Let it out with fists and blood, teeth and gripping hands, breathless grunts and soft moans, pain so close to pleasure he couldn't help but succumb to the desire. "Or are you too afraid of how much you want me on my knees?" His words held many meanings but the way his voice pitched low and his gaze darkened as Cristov tilted his head and smirked, it was more obvious he wanted to more than just fight Eris.

Her brow quirked. Oh, she didn't need telling twice to use that pretty little knife of hers, but she'd wait for the right moment. "You think I'm just going to hand over my least favourite word? Come now, you know me better than that, it'd come with a price." When he mentioned his head getting bigger she squinted and held her knife up, like she was using it as comparison and then laughed. "By god, how is that thing being held up on such little shoulders?!" she faked a mocking gasp, a hand jokingly over her head. "A medical miracle your neck isn't broken by just how big your head is!"

She went quiet after that, a sickening twist in her gut at the idea of him starting a fight with anyone... that wasn't her. He was hers to fight with, he was hers to taunt now, was he not? She did not enjoy connecting to anyone, she did not enjoy any form of emotion, she'd say it was safer to stay away from it and yet in some way... she'd learned in these weeks, to look for him, to keep one eye on him, to need him near the minute trouble arose but oh.. in those moments of chaos, she thrived.

Her knife created a whistle through the air when she threw it, even a little breeze or at least one he'd feel. She was beyond accurate with that thing and had thrown it so that it skimmed by his head, not enough to cut him but enough that it was clear just how close it was. The knife made a twang as it pierced the wall behind the sofa. A wicked smirk played across her pretty lips, one leg crossing over the other but her arms copied how he lounged across the sofa. "Then pick fights with me instead. You're too experienced for bar fights, it's almost unfair to the general public. Me on the other hand? I'd have you on your knees begging for my mercy in oh, twelve seconds maximum."

She couldn't help but wink. "Don't worry Crissy, I know how much you'd enjoy that." Crissy. Oh she knew it'd irritate, even the overly girly way she said it. She didn't want to be friends, she didn't need friends... so maybe it was just a bad romance. A pointless crush.

[innytoes]

Love all these autumn prompts! 24 is giving me strong willex vibes

-anotherfantom

"Care to explain to me why Ray just thanked me for 'helping out in the haunted house' on my way to the studio?" Alex asked the room at large, dumping his bag. Luke and Reggie looked guilty, and Julie wavered between looking guilty and surprised.

"You didn't even ask him first?" she said eventually, throwing the two boys under the bus.

"We were gonna!" Reggie defended. "So you know how Ray volunteers at that children's charity as a photographer? They're doing this big Halloween fundraiser thing, and they wanted a haunted house, but they didn't have enough scarers, so I said we could help."

"If we help during the day we get to perform at night!" Luke added, which explained a lot as to why Luke was willing to give up a whole Saturday they could spend rehearsing.

"You signed me up to be a scarer," he repeated. "Me. The guy who has anxiety."

"Look at it this way," Julie said. "Your brain is constantly coming up with things that are scary, you should have no problem getting into character. And you're going to be doing the scaring, not being scared."

Alex thought about that for a moment. To be honest, when Julie put it like that it didn't sound half bad.

He crept up behind Reggie, wriggling fingers against the back of his neck and using his spookiest voice to say: "Stuuuuudent looooaaaans."

"I don't think that's exactly what they're looking for, bro," Luke said.

"Standing in line at the grocery store with a cart full of stuff already on the conveyor belt and realising you've forgotten your walleeeeet," he whispered in a croaky witch voice.

"Maybe stick with 'booga-booga'," Reggie laughed.

"Having Flynn find out you're the one who drank her last sodaaa," he moaned.

"Okay, that is scary," Julie agreed.

-

The day of the Haunted House, it was pretty easy to decide who got to do what. Julie got a Phantom mask and the creepy room with the Organ (a keyboard with some pretty rad cardboard decorations surrounding it), distracting everyone from Flynn, who was on a rig on the ceiling ready to chase people all across the room and down the hall.

Reggie was delighted to be fake-strapped to a table while robotic crows pecked out his 'insides', moaning and howling in pain and warning them that it was too late for him, but the killer was coming back.

Luke got a creepy mask and a fake knife and a spot to jump out from, because he was the only person not too worried about being punched in the face.

And finally, Alex got a cool cape and some stick-on fangs, hiding behind a doorway. He also got a cool skeleton hand on a stick to 'grab' people with, which would both keep actual physical contact to a minimum and keep him out of reach for being punched in the face.

"You sure you're okay all alone, buddy?" Reggie asked him. "We can swap and you can hang out with Pokey and Bitey instead," he offered. At Alex' blank stare, he flushed. "The crows."

"No, you've already named them. Though if Luke gets punched in the face I want a full re-enactment later." He and Reggie exchanged their secret handshake. Honestly, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face with any of the others in the room. Also, they couldn't get on his case for not being scary enough.

The day was pretty fun. He was separated by Julie and Flynn by a dark hallway with nothing but cobwebs, so people were usually already on edge by the time they got to his room, waiting for the next jump scare.

After the first few attempts at getting out a spooky vampire pun with his new fangs and getting laughed at because of his lisp, he'd stuck to hissing and wooshing his cape dramatically.

He was surprised by the amount of small children that came through and were delighted instead of scared. One of them, dressed like a tiny vampire herself, spread her cape and hissed back, and he gave her a solemn bow as she skipped off with her amused parents. He was also surprised by the amount of tough looking guys who shrieked loudly when he used Mister Boney (yes okay maybe he'd named the skeleton hand on a stick as well).

But what he wasn't expecting was The Most Beautiful Man In The World to come through the Haunted House. And he really, really wasn't expecting him to jump, turn around, and for the first thing out of his mouth to be a terrible pick-up line.

"Well hello there, gorgeous, I'd let you suck me anytime," The Most Beautiful Man In The World said. He had long, slightly wavy hair with a single cobweb stuck to it. His crop-top was either tie-dye, or covered in fake blood, Alex couldn't actually tell from the black light. He also had a giant piece of fake rebar sticking out of the side of his neck, which looked rather gruesome.

"Seemth to me like you've already got a lot going on there," he lisped, waving Mister Boney at the general direction of the guy's neck and willing his heart to stop beating so fast.

The Most Beautiful Man In The World turned out to also have the most beautiful laugh in the world. "Well, maybe instead you can give me a hand-job," he said, waggling his eyebrows and nodding at Mister Boney. "What time do you get off?"

"Any time you want," Alex blurted out, before going very, very red under his white make-up. "I mean... I- we're pflaying the conthert tonight!"

"Cool," The Most Beautiful Man In The World said. "Guess I'll stick around for that." He gave a wink, before bravely striding into the next room, not even flinching at the giant spider rigged to drop from the ceiling. His laugh echoed down the hall.

Well, shit.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree

[hoodieofholland]

Handsome Man // Professor!Tom

Summary: you think your professor is a really good-looking man and let it slip out of your mouth.

Word count: ~2.9k

Warnings: none, except for some swearing.

A/n: I really liked writing the prof!tom universe and made it longer now (thanks anon that motivated me to write more about it). taking a moment to add that i always get this feeling that first encounter between reader and professor tom would be like fluffy as hell, he'd be so polite and that fucking accent of him ugghhh. Perfect. Anyways, enjoy!

Masterlist

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"Good morning, everyone!"

You raise your head abruptly, snapped out of your thoughts. Which, by the way, were all directed to the man who was walking down to his desk with a sweet yet confident smile on his face.

"You all are looking so excited with Monday" he says playfully and the class laughs. "Hope I'm worth your tired time here this morning".

You straighten your back, picking pen and book from your backpack as Professor Holland organizes his materials on the wood desk.

You weren't a square at classes or anything like that. But surely you were never late for English classes, neither badly dressed up. You always made sure to pick your best outfit, not leaving out the professional look, all to impress your favorite professor.

Not that you were silly enough to believe something would come out from that strictly professional relationship, but it was inevitable for you wanting to feel pretty around him, as your imagination flew wild whenever he stepped in the classroom.

Professor Holland was really something else. He wasn't only a handsome man, with a noticeable muscular body hidden behind the much formal clothes he wore. He wasn't only the youngest professor in that department. He was intelligent, had a good sense of humor and was incredibly polite.

You could tell by the way girls always seemed to be extra interested on this class that you weren't the only one in the room to feel attracted to your professor.

You always made sure to ne early so you could take a seat in the front row, not to claim for his attention, but to be able to pain attention to the lecture and also get the opportunity to have a good look at him once in a while, mostly when he was distracted, sitting at his desk and taking notes on the classes' essays.

By the end of the lesson, he dismissed the students and you started to pack your things, barely motivated to your next classes. Now that you wouldn't have your professor's look to distract you a bit, it really felt like fucking Monday.

There were only around four students left in the room, and you, who was caring your notebook and pencil on your hands, walking directly to Professor Holland's desk clarify his small notes he took on your essay from last week.

Three girls were standing around his desk, smiling widely as he explained something that were on the board.

"But, Professor Holland..." one of the girls asked the same stupid question again, letting his name roll along her tongue, as she was savoring it. You roll your eyes, flicking your feet as you waited impatiently for your chance to have a time with him.

Professor Holland sighed and gently tried to reassure the group of girls that they could have the assistant to solve their other questions, as he was running out of time and there was another person he had to assist.

Finally, the girls gave in and passed through you, taking the time to send you a look. You just shrugged it off and walked to the Professor's desk.

"Miss. Y/l/n" he greets your, a small smile forming of his lips. Your stomach felt like flipping inside of you and you tried to keep your composure as you reached his desk. "Any questions left?"

"Actually, Professor..." you handed him the paper, a bit ashamed of he remembering it was yours and connecting the words you wrote down with your face. It was so much easier when you didn't see your professor reading your text. "I marked some of the notes you wrote and didn't understand, if you could help me".

He looked over the text, a wrinkle of concentration between his brows, and just when he lifted his gaze back to you, you felt your heart fastening.

"Of course", he gives you a tightlipped smile, grabbing a pen to point some of the corrections to you. "See, there weren't any big mistake on this, you could say I'm just a perfectionist. Actually, this was one of the best essays from the class".

Your eyes light up immediately, feeling too enthusiastic for the compliment. "Thank you, Sir. It means a lot".

Professor Holland nodded once, averting his eyes from you for a moment, his face taking on a more stern look. Then he started to explain his notes and you felt more relaxed as you notice it wasn't really that big of mistakes. You listened with full attention and commented on what you felt like could improve on your writing.

"I feel like if you take your time to rewrite it and survey some of your constructions, this text will be more than excellent" he pointed, handing you the paper again, a proud smile on his lips. Then, he chuckled a bit, playfully, "Obviously, the first score is the one that will be considered for your grade, so it's up to you. But I think it'll be a great work".

You smile happily. "Sure, I'll do it", you take the paper back again and put it inside your folder. Looking at the wall clock, you just notice it's too long past the break between classes. "Shit, I didn't realize it was past your lessons' time already. I'm sorry, I should be going-"

"It's alright, Miss. Y/l/n". He sends you a reassurance smile, putting a hand over yours for a brief moment, but that didn't make it go under your notice. "I'm always satisfied to waste a little more time on my most dedicated students, and even more glad that your questions wasn't about lessons itself", he grimaces and you could tell what he was referring too. "Not in my best behavior saying it out loud, but I was starting to think I wasn't doing a great explanation".

You laugh a bit and shake your head. "Oh, you shouldn't worry about it. I'm pretty sure you're the best professor from this department. Plus, those girls weren't seriously having a problem with the subject" you roll your eyes softly, still smiling, but not quite realising what you had just said.

Professor Holland scowls, face confused as he catches your last sentence. "What do you mean?"

You froze, eyes widening as you gulp. "I-I mean- like, you were explaining it for the fourth time already... it wasn't possible that they didn't get it. I think they were more interested on... you know?".

He narrow his eyes, quirked his brow questioning, expecting you to explain yourself. A shiver pass through your body, embarrassment running right to your blushing cheeks as you struggle to find a proper answer.

"I mean, I think they were interested on... you". You almost cough, looking for somewhere else to stare in the room, avoiding your Professor's concentrated eyes. But as silent is completely made, you have to make sure he isn't mad at your stupid comment. Averting your eyes back at him, you are surprised to be met with his brown ones filled with what seemed amusement.

He was supporting his chin on his fist, a curious look covering his soft feature, hiding a smile behind the thumb pressed against his lips.

"Why would you think that?" He asked in the same amused tone and you never felt more stupid.

You wanted to slap your forehead and hide your entire self on the closest bathroom, but Professor Holland had those glistening brown soft eyes on you, nothing but a relaxed face put in your display, his sultry voice - which you were pretty sure wouldn't sound like this on purpose - incentivanting you to continue.

You cleared your throat and collected your devilish thoughts to think straight.

"I guess most of the girls here think you're, y'know, a handsome man" you shrugged, wanting so much sound casual, as that wasn't your personal opinion.

Mr. Holland raised his eyebrows, you couldn't tell if it was surprise for your answer or for your courage on saying that out loud. Maybe both.

"Did you hear that?", he questioned, tilting his head a little to the side. "From those girls?"

He got you. You knew that. He knew you were just making assumptions, which meant that could only be your own opinion expressed on the vision you had over other students.

"No", you answered under your breath, gulping. "It's just a guess".

Silent was made and you felt terrified. You truly started to think that Mr. Holland was planning the most tough comments on your behavior, that he would try to show you how unprofessional and not ethic at all was your opinion about him, that he was your professor and you were his student, nothing beyond that. But then he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair as his eyes concentrated on you.

He looked like someone who was pondering something, but your nervousness calmed down a little bit at the way he had his gaze over you. Though his eyes were dark, that couldn't be so bad, if he didn't have a mad expression on.

"Is it what you think?" He tried again, the corner of his mouth threatening to quirk. "Do you think I'm a handsome man?"

You close your eyes briefly, feeling past ashamed of it. "I'm sorry, it's pathetic, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Miss. Y/l/n" he chuckles softly. "Don't make a big deal out of it. After all, I'm not much older than you, am I? Shouldn't be so wrong to have an opinion about my looking".

He was taking it so calmly that you couldn't believe. Maybe he was right, maybe it wasn't a big deal. Or maybe he was so used to having girls head over heels for him that it didn't get on his nerves anymore.

You sigh and decide to agree better than discuss anything and make more shame on yourself. "Anyways, I just wanted you to know that-"

"Mr. Holland?"

A voice interrupt him, and you turn your head abruptly to see another professor standing in the door frame, a case on his hand, eyes going between both of you. "Sorry for interrupting, but I'm giving my next lesson here. Is it taking too long, or...?"

"Oh, no", Mr. Holland smiled fondly and stood up, gathering his things from the desk. "Pardon me, didn't realize it was so late. Miss y/l/n, do you have any more questions left?"

You narrow your eyes at him, a bit taken aback as you knew you weren't making any questions seconds prior. He was lying, lying about the reason why the two of you were stuck in his classroom for so long. So you just nodded back and corrected your face.

"No, I'm fine, Sir. Thanks for your time" you smiled a little before turning in your heels.

The other man entered the class and started to put his things above the table, with Mr. Holland beside him. You were about to step out of the room when you hear your professor talking to you.

"Oh, and Miss. Y/l/n?" You turned your head to look at him again. He smiled. "It'd be lovely if you rewrite that essay. You can pass by my office later to show me your corrections, if you want to".

You blink, too surprised to answer right away. With a pounding heart on your chest, you nod, wishing nothing but to work on that useless essay as soon as possible.

____________

The day passes quickly, your mind too occupied with your essay. Missing some of your later classes, you saved time to stay until 6pm in the library, trying to come out with the of your writing whilst correcting the mistakes Mr. Holland pointed for you.

Certainly, that was the most dedicated you've ever been for a work.

But you couldn't resist the anxiety running through your body as you thought about walking down that aisle in the Professor Holland's office direction.

Again, you weren't expecting anything beyond him reading your text again, but the thought of seeing him alone one time was exciting itself.

You finish your work and put the paper inside a case, gathering everything together and walking straight to the aisle of English department.

It was empty and quiet, not a sight of any students neither professors around, as it was past the last lectures for the day.

Taking a few good breathes, you smooth your hand down your skirt before knocking softly on Professor Holland office's door.

"Come in!"

You turn the handle and open the door, closing it behind you. Mr. Holland looked tired, eyes heavy under his glasses. He also seemed busy, reading a book and taking his notes.

"Oh, Miss Y/l/n", he smiles warmly when his eyes lift to your face, waving a hand for you to take a seat in front of his desk. "Glad to see you. I suppose you made the corrections on your essay?"

You smile and nod, sitting down before reaching your paper in your backpack. "I added some other points I thought about when reading again", you hand him your essay and he takes it, fingers touching yours briefly, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Great" he looked over the paper, reading more cautiously at some point in the middle, where the biggest changes were made. He seemed impressed with your work and you couldn't help but feel the euphoria by each time the curve of his lips seemed to form a smile.

You looked over his office. It was small, but enough for one person only. There was a shelf full of books and a pretty tiny table across the room, cups, water and what you assumed to be tea inside a bottle on top of that.

"It's really cozy here" you speak out loud, more to yourself, wandering and picturing Mr. Holland sitting beside his little table and taking his tea while reading one of the shelf's book.

He smiles, lifting his glance from the paper to your face, which was still looking around. "You like it?"

You blink a few times before answering, a bit embarrassed that he caught your vague comment. "Yeah". His face held nothing but a contemplating look. "It must feel really good to have an office all to yourself".

Mr. Holland laughs quietly. "I don't spend too much time here to appreciate that much, actually", he admits. "Most of my time in the building is spent in classrooms and I pretty much like taking my work home, so... But, yes, it's good".

"I'd like it. Y'know, having somewhere you can take a time off and even have lunch when everywhere else is so full of people". You make your point, shrugging.

Something crosses Mr. Holland's face, but he quickly make it disappear.

"Well", he says, looking at your essay again after clearing his throat. "I like it very much. Not a single mistake this time. I can say properly now that this is the best essay I received for last week's work".

You smile widely. "Thank you, Mr. Holland".

He look up at your again, a small and hesitating smile on his lips. "You can call me Tom", when you open your mouth and say anything, he continues, "If you want. Mr. Holland just makes me feel so old".

You laugh at his grimace. "Oh, you're nothing near old, no worry on that".

Tom smiles more freely, if not smugly, and you feel your cheeks darkening in pink.

"Yeah, you think I'm... a handsome man, right?" He teases you and for a moment, it's not like your formal and professional professor is the one in the room anymore. You smiles sheepishly, bitting your lips to try to contain it.

"I'm sorry for that again", you shake your head, but Tom whines.

"If you don't stop with your apologies, I'm going to give you another essay to write". He says playfully. "I'm just joking, y/n".

Hearing your first name coming out of his mouth warms your heart and you feel like exploding in excitement.

"Wouldn't be such a punishment, I think" you admit, looking to your hands.

Tom narrows his eyes, corner of his mouth raising in a smile again. "And why is that?"

You bite your lower lips, pressing your fingers in the palm of your hand nervously as you think about what you're saying next, "Well, if it meant I'd have to come here to show you, I'd gladly write one".

Tom takes your answer slowly, smile growing on his face and he chuckles softly. "Really?"

"Yeah", you nod.

Tom stares at you for the following seconds and it's just as when you glance at the clock in his desk that yiu realize you've spent too much time inside his office.

"I think I gotta go now", you say, standing up and picking your backpack and essay. It wouldn't look good a student getting out of a professor's office so late in the night.

Tom smiled sadly and got up too, watching as you made your way to the door. But before you could open it, you remembered you last talk in the classroom.

"Tom?" You tested the name on your lips, savoring the liberty he had just given to you. He looked at you, waiting. "What was it you were going to say before that professor entered the classroom?"

He took a few seconds thinking and then a trace of a small smile came to his features.

"I was just going to say that I appreciate your compliment" he licks his lips and you smile. "Also, that you should know I think you're pretty gorgeous too".

[bruhstories]

Of Tattoos and Accidents

Summary: Sasha and Connie drag you to your tattoo appointment and you don’t regret it. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, tattoo artist!Armin Word Count: 1.3 k

A/N: Ha, I didn't write a smutty piece!

"Ready for your first tattoo?" Connie barged into your bedroom followed by Sasha as you were brushing your untamed hair. "Absolutely not. Is it too late to cancel?" You sighed, the idea of a needle poking your skin making you throw up. "Come on, Y/N, you had 2 fractured ribs, a broken leg and you still walked to class after that wardrobe fell on you. You can take a needle." Sasha encouraged you, her hand patting your head. "Yeah, and then I fainted during that same class." "I'm amazed, really. Remember when you got run over, got up and still came to my party?" Connie shook his head. "How are you scared of a tattoo?" "I'm just scared of needles, okay?" You sighed. There was nothing you could do to convince your friends to cancel that stupid appointment you drunkenly made. "But not scared of getting hit by a car? Come on, Y/N, we're gonna be late." The brunette grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the room with Connie pushing you from behind. It was decided: they were gonna force you to get that tattoo whether you liked it or not. Besides, how bad could it be? "I don't wanna do this, guys. Please, let's go back! I promise I'll do your dishes for the rest of my life!" You cried out as your friends pulled you into the tattoo parlour. Your hand grabbed the door handle as you were trying to resist them, nails clawing their arms. "Sweet Jesus, let go of me or I'll call your parents!" You resorted to empty threats. "Um, you guys need any help?" A foreign voice asked and your eyes darted to the source. "Hi, you must be Armin." Connie smiled, his arms around your waist as he tried to pick you up but you just wouldn't let go of the damn handle. "I'm Connie, I have an appointment with Eren. These are Sasha and Y/N." "Is she alright?" Armin whispered, a look of concern on his face. "She's just stubborn, aren't you?" "I wanna go home, please!" You bit into Sasha's hand, the girl letting out a yelp. "Y/N? You must be my 3 o'clock." The blond calmly stated. "First time, I assume?" He playfully asked you. "Come on, woman, get it together. Remember when that dog bit you and you limped back home, too afraid to go to the hospital?" Connie snickered. "Please stop talking." You pursed your lips. "Hey, I promise it won't hurt." Armin smiled. Your grip around the handle loosened and you finally took a good look at him. A few piercings in his ears, a killer tattoo around his neck and eyes so blue you could drown in them. The man looked both like an angel and a devil, and it intrigued you. After you finally calmed down your friends went into two separate rooms, Connie to get his seventh tattoo, Sasha to pierce her septum and you were left with Armin, who invited you into what seemed like a reception room. "You don't have to bullshit me, I know it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker." You took a seat on an armchair as he handed you a portfolio of his drawings and doodles to choose from. "I'm not bullshitting you, it all depends where you'll have me– it. The tattoo." The blond shook his head at his slip and you couldn't stifle the giggle that came out of your mouth. "Sorry, it's been a long day." He lied. "No worries." You smiled and flipped through the pages. "Wait, these are all done by you?" "Every single one." "Damn, you're really good!" "Thanks." His cheeks flushed red. "Um, anyway, it really all depends on the area on your body. Shoulders hurt the least." "What hurts the most?" You asked, curiosity dripping down your tongue. "Umm... feet and... " "And?" "L-lower areas." Armin was blushing furiously. Normally he wouldn't have a problem explaining these things to his clients, he wasn't necessarily a prude, but something about you made him stutter like a toddler. "Oh, ooooh, I get it, duh!" You rolled your eyes at the slow gears in your head. "I think I want this one." You handed him back his portfolio and pointed at the splendid drawing of two koi fish, representing yin and yang. It perfectly mirrored your style, as well as your personality, and you were content with your choice. "Perfect! And where will you have

me? IT! Jesus, I'm so sorry." He trailed off, your smile only making him more flustered. "Honestly, just take me out first." You joked, fingers playing with a lock of hair. "I think I'll have it on my upper shoulder. I'm not ready for too much pain yet." "Great, let's get you ready." The shirt you were wearing was loose enough for you to pull it down your arm, offering Armin both enough room to work, and a good view into your cleavage whenever he got up from his chair. He was a professional, though, and whenever he focused nothing could distract him. The first puncture made you suck your teeth and clench your fists but he was right, it didn't hurt as bad as you thought it would. "So, what was that about a dog biting you?" The blond asked, brows furrowed, eyes on your shoulder. "Oh, God, Connie and his stupid mouth... I'm kinda prone to accidents. I'm not clumsy, just severely lacking luck." You explained with a sigh. "Yet you're still scared of needles?" "Um, yes? I guess we all have a phobia. Some are scared of spiders, others of heights. I'm terrified of needles." "Yet I'm poking you." Armin laughed, the smile quickly fading after realising how sexual that sounded. "With a needle, I mean." You were beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. "Well, I gotta face my fears, don't I? Besides, I've always wanted a tattoo. I used to get those temporary ones when I was a kid." "Well, maybe you'll get some more. Oh, I'm gonna have to do the shading now. This might hurt a bit more." He let you know before getting up and changing the needle. "Got anything for me to bite into?" You joked, genuinely hoping it wouldn't be that bad, but to Armin it sounded like an invitation. "N-not really." "I'll just use my hand then." Goodness gracious, it hurt like a bitch. You bit into your knuckles, almost drawing blood, muffled curses filling the room. It amused and concerned him to see someone so determined to get a tattoo, despite your intolerance for pain and fear of needles. "Fucking hell!" You removed the fist out of your mouth, nails digging into your thighs. "Bitch ass motherfucker!" "It's over!" Armin laughed at your reaction. "It's alright, Y/N, I'm done." "Oh, thank the fucking Lord!" You wiped the tears off of your cheeks. Armin cleaned you up and gently placed a patch over your first (and last) tattoo before handing you a booklet with instructions. The two of you walked back into the reception room and you plopped back on the armchair, careful not to touch it with your shoulder. "Um, I don't normally do this but do you want to go out for a drink sometime?" The blond smiled. "I'm paying." "Yeah, you better pay after what I went through." You chuckled. "So, is that a yes?" "It's a definite yes." "Y/N, I thought you were getting murdered in there." Connie walked in followed by who you assumed to be Eren. "Ah shit, was I that loud?" "Loud? I think you guys need to soundproof your rooms." Sasha chimed in, flaunting her new piercing. Armin walked you and your friends out and handed you a small piece of paper with his number on it. "What was that all about?" The brunette eyed you up and down with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about." You slid the paper in your pocket. "Wait, Armin gave you his number? Think you can get me a free tat?" Connie sneered at you. "Oh, yeah, totally!" "Really?" "Hell no."

[amenomiko]

Thank you for the request @cottonfluffballofdoom !!! So sorry for the late reply in the request... *sigh* burnt outs is so........ suffocating 😩. Anyways, enjoy ❤❤❤❤❤!!!

Nobunaga - Spoon

Since they are of the same height.....

"Goodnight Nobunaga."

"Goodnight, fireball."

He is about to turn to spoon her, but due to being a lover of his same size-- (well, almost.)

Nobunaga were spooned by her instead.

Yes, it was warm, and good.. And a nice feeling but..

Nobunaga's face (almost every night) before he fell asleep / after he woke up : ಠ_ಠ

Hail tall MC to get such reaction from our arrogant lord.

Hideyoshi - Easy to Spot in the Crowd

"AHAH! YOU BECOME AN ACCOMPLICE FOR LORD NOBUNAGA AGAIN??"

Cue MC with jar of konpeito in her arms and Hideyoshi running out from the kitchen and into the town.

"But but but he say it is a magical candy that will help me shrink >A<!!!"

"And you believe that?? Get back here ヽ(`д´；)/!!!"

"Heh! I'm faster, Hideyoshi!"

"Yet I can always spot you in this crowd, MC!"

"Shitttt OAO!!!"

"LANGUAGE ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨!!!"

Masamune - Cockroach

MC is still adorable to him, despite being *cough* taller *cough* than him.

Because she will always show her cute side every now and then especially when she is afraid, surprised, and mesmerized with something.

Her reaction is still like a woman, though sometimes people will mistook her as a man for being tall.

Except for one thing...

"KYAAAAAAA COCKROACH QAQ!!!!"

Now Masamune is trying his best to balance his legs as MC's whole body is covering his one and only eye, due to being taller and almost engulfing his whole being when she hugged him.

....Like those circus show- ehem.

Mitsuhide - Bump onto the Things on Ceiling

"( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) Another injury I see?"

She looked away with a pout while rubbing her swollen forehead. "I- It's not my fault, okay? I admit I didn't see those hanging lanterns."

"My my, it is also because of-"

"Your teasings? Yes! Even if you wanted to kiss me, j-just read the room already!"

"Alright, alright, come here. My apologies."

"As if I would believe that! Hmf- *Turns around and bump her forehead onto the door frame* Ah-"

"My my ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) so adorable."

....He can't get enough from this kind of amusement tho. ...This snake.

Ieyasu - Hard to Kiss

">3< Mmmmffff....! Mmmmmmfffff!!!!"

"MC."

"Mmmmmmffffnnnffff >3<!!!! *crack* AGH MY NECK QAQ!!!"

He groans. That's another crack he have heard this week. Another crack, another medical attention.

"I just want to kiss you Q3Q..."

"You don't have to bend down, MC. You can just always sit, and let me kiss you."

"....OH OAO✨✨✨✨✨!!!"

"......*Sigh*"

Even though she sounded like Mitsunari, he will always forgive her though. So much of loving his tall lover.

Mitsunari - He is the GF instead

They were walking in the town, when suddenly they were separated as Mitsunari were distracted with the display of books in one of the shops.

Suddenly there were boys who surrounds him out of no where,

Shouting and accusing him with "So you are Mitsunari?? The one who swoon everyone's heart? Pei! With this girly face, YOU? I CAN ALWAYS BREAK YOUR BONE, YOU GIRLY CARROT!"

Mitsunari: *Gasp* (´・д・｀) nooo Carrot is bad!

MC: *Appears casually* Yes, anything wrong with my angelic lover?

The boys: Uhhhh ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ... RUN!!! HE GOT A STRONG BOYFRIEND \QAQ/!!!

Yup. That's it.

Kenshin - Mistaken her as Shingen's duplicate

"(눈‸눈) Since when did you duplicate yourself, Shingen? You are a womanizer through and through, and to think that you even have a split version of you, and a woman at that? You are so low."

Shingen: If words can turn into an arrow, I would've die already ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^).

Kenshin: Then die (눈‸눈).

But after they become lovers, Kenshin was very satisfied with the moments in the room *coughcough*

Why? He find it satisfied whenever he get to rest and sleep on her chest after the exhaustion-- UHUKHUK

Shingen - Romantic Moment Fail

Hugging is not a problem.

Nor kissing.

Nor ooh la la session.

As they are of the same height.

Except...

"Oh, it's raining, Shingen. Good thing I brought an umbrella with me (❁´◡`❁)!"

If you think they will have romantic moments under the umbrella because of their same height, you are wrong.

They are tall to the point they have the same wet spot that the umbrella couldn't cover from the rain.

Yukimura - Convenient Chest

Nearly mistaken her as his lord's long lost sister at first. And find it difficult for him to sooth her from crying, or from feeling afraid, etc.

Due to the differences of their height, it took Yukimura to find a method to let her rest her head on his chest (which is to kneel down when she sit on the floor).

But when it is his turn...

He wouldn't admit it but he likes it whenever MC hug him to her chest. Or during the time they were sleeping.

Her chest is soft.. Like a pillow. Or sometimes she can be a bed for him. Heh 😏.

Sasuke - Mistaken for a Tree

At first when he met her, he mistook her for a tree ESPECIALLY when his glasses went missing.

He almost, ALMOST throw a shuriken at her at that time too.

There's also one time when...

"Oh no Sasuke!! I'm too tall to hide myself! What if the ronin found us??"

"Disguise, MC! Just stand in between of the trees and I'm sure you will be fine!"

She did.

And she's safe.

Still, she's not happy.

Sasuke: See? It worked (´・д・｀)👌✨

MC: ಥ‿ಥ.....Thanks?

[deltaengineering]

Spring Anime 2021: Embarrassment of Riches

So this current anime season absolutely stinks, which just makes the last one look even more impressive. Well, maybe not all of it...

Zombieland Saga Revenge

First off, you don't need to tell me that the following is a severe outlier opinion. We good? Ok. ZLSR is, in a word, subpar. I liked S1 back in the day, but it was already in the process of getting lazy towards the end. S2 continues this trend and is basically just another idol show. And as someone who actually does watch other idol shows I have to say that it's not a particularly good one of those either. The zombie gimmick has mostly stopped mattering and we're just doing what every idol show does, only with the odd occasional sight gag. The alleged subversive qualities mostly amount to a flashback for Yuugiri, which is admittedly the best part of the show but feels like it barely has anything to do with anything. Apart from that, it's a bunch of generic idol plots, rehashed character beats, shoddy attempts at twists (while not connecting to any setups from S1), and the obligatory "idols give us hope" ending, which is terribly hackneyed and flat out bad. Tae gets further memed into the ground, because of course she does. And there's stuff that was simply never good to begin with, like Kotarou and his comedy schtick, which gets truly insufferable now that there's no qualities to distract from it. It really makes me think that S1 wasn't even all that good to begin with and seems like an attempt to turn this surprise success into an easy money longrunner with no edge and no ambitions. "The idol show for people who don't watch idol shows" indeed, but not the way you mean it. 4/10

Bakuten

But not to dwell on the failures, with the second show we're already above the cut — barely. This one got my attention with its really impressive performance scenes early on and it totally sticks to that, which is even more impressive. But besides that? Well, this is by far the most predictable show in a season where I watched an unambitious Kiraralike and put ZLS on blast for having no ideas. The characters are a mixed bag, some are cool (Shida, Asawo), some are very annoying (Mashiro), but those are the supports. The main cast is extremely one-dimensional, which is fine until they try to heap a ton of pathos on their lead, which doesn't go well. But I guess execution matters, and Bakuten is slick enough to get by. Writing this down in stark daylight I feel like I overrated this show somewhat (I actually put it over the next one originally, which definitely doesn't hold up when thinking about it), but I was indeed mostly entertained. 6/10

Yakunara Mug Cup mo

Yeah. Of course Mug Cup definitely doesn't invent or subvert anything either, but it's a pretty good Kiraralike that's always entertaining to watch. Explaining the qualities of such a nothing genre is as difficult as ever, but it mostly comes down to me liking the characters and it having nothing to annoy me. It's shorter than normal, which is a plus for slim shows like this. And yeah, you can make an excessive amount of dick jokes with the clay fondling. That helps too. Looks are just fine, pleasant but nothing out of the ordinary. Comfy low-effort anime. 6/10

Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song

This one is decent, but sadly still a major letdown. Because the first few episodes of Vivy were excellent and kicked ass, but then it became increasingly clear that the writing can't cash the checks the ideas wrote while the action starts running into severely diminishing returns. Vivy just keeps slowly getting worse and worse as it goes on, not by a huge amount each episode but by the end there's a pretty sizeable gulf between potential and result. Going into detail would probably be a little much for this venue because there's a lot, but from the top level view the issue is that while Vivy has good fundamental ideas and steals at the right places, it just isn't a smart show — it's schlock, and by the end, poorly thought out schlock that tries to smooth out every problem with liberal application of the big feels hammer and le epic twist at that. Yeah, couldn't tell that the Re:Zero dude was aboard here, for sure. That said, it still works pretty well as entertaining schlock that is not to be taken too seriously, and the characters are generally just very fun to watch even when they're doing stupid things. Still, I can't in good conscience rate this higher than Beatless, a show that looks like butt but properly executes on its ideas. 6/10

Super Cub

So this is 100% a Honda commercial, and I got really mad a Yuru Camp last season for being a blatant shill. Yet I'm feeling this, what gives? I think the main difference is that Super Cub is specifically a commercial for one product (and a very iconic product at that), while Yuru Camp is so all over the place that it ends up mostly a commercial for consumerism in general. And when Super Cub goes too hard on the product (which it does), it's at least pretty entertaining. That's something about Super Cub in general: It goes hard. Your regular Kiraralike this is not, because it's uncommonly slow, focused and moody - yes, it almost measures up to Yuru Camp at its best and demolishes it at its worst. Also, it's just extremely amusing to see sadblob Koguma grow a huge grizzly biker beard and become a badass outlaw dad to her goofy wife and cute daughter, all thanks to the power of afforable personal transportation. Needless to say, that can get unintentionally silly, but Super Cub has so much charm that it doesn't matter — it's great when it's good and still funny when it's not. 7/10

Shadows House

Shadows House turned up with a lot of potential, and I have to say it at least delivered on most of it. It has some problems; notably I'm not a fan of how the entire middle turned out to be a tournament arc of sorts that seems curiously inspired by Resident Evil memes, crest-shaped intentations and boulder punching included. I also think that this is a show that would be perfectly fine without explaining much, but I guess it is a shounen manga after all so we got dumped on eventually anyway. At least that came late - close relative Promised Neverland didn't show that much restraint. Shadows House is generally well written though, with great characters, interesting interactions and a great hook. But what really makes it memorable is that it's exceptionally good at the cute/creepy contrast, something that is often tried but rarely works as well as here, with great character designs and very appropriate production. I hope this gets a sequel, because it seems like it's just getting started. 7/10

SSSS.Dynazenon

Coming in with a fondness for Gridman, Dynazenon didn't have to do much to convince me. The surprise though is that it's not a rehash even if it's basically the same show, a character drama where occasionally huge and goofy fights break out. Dynazenon is Gridman done better, and the interesting part is how it accomplishes this - mainly by being far more conventional. I do appreciate that Gridman went for something weird and almost experimental, but that only really paid off towards the end while most of the show was a distraction/holding pattern. It just didn't feel like there was enough material for a full series there, more like a movie maybe, if even that. Dynazenon fixes this by just being a TV show, with an actual cast of characters that each have their own arc. And by spreading the material this way, Dynazenon ends up having a lot more nuance than its intensely focused predecessor, while having the same themes and not actually being any deeper. In a way, Gridman ends up looking like the spinoff in retrospect, while Dynazenon is the full package. 8/10

Thunderbolt Fantasy S3

So how good was this season? So good that Thunderbolt Fantasy doesn't end up at the top, that's how. And all the elements that made Tbolt such a sure thing are still there, big hammy puppets doing stunts and scheming never gets old. However, I do have to note that at this point, the writing appears to have gotten too comfortable. I don't expect it to ever top the amazing S1 ending, but at this point it's like Tbolt has stopped trying to deliver on endings at all and seems in the process of retooling itself into a longrunner instead. Barely anything gets resolved in S3 (the climax is that the climax of S2 is resolved again, for good this time... maybe), and everything else is just setting up plotpoints for the next season. Tbolt is truly lucky that it doesn't actually need to resolve anything to be a great time, but at this point I have to say that I'd appreciate it if they wrapped it up with S4. 8/10

Nomad: Megalobox 2

Speaking of sequels to shows I liked, Nomad doesn't so much improve upon its predecessor but steamrolls right over it. This is a tall order, since Megalobox was surprisingly good for a sports shounen and had a real nice, heartwarming ending that Nomad instantly negates for purposes of drama and everyone being extremely miserable. That sounds like a pretty terrible idea - and it would be, if Nomad wasn't as excellent as it is. To call it not the same show would be an understatement, because it's a true sequel, not just the same characters doing their thing some more, or new characters doing the same thing as the old ones did. Indeed my biggest problem with Megalobox was that it still closely adhered to its genre template and was very predictable; Nomad fixes this issue thoroughly. Nomad is about questioning what being a hotblooded shounen protagonist eventually leads you to, and how to fix everything you screwed up by being one. You could call it a deconstruction, but that term has been so abused for cynical, edgy "thing you like actually sucks" takes that I feel like it doesn't really fit here. Nomad isn't cynical at all, it's just a character drama about some boxers past their prime, and it being a sequel to a show that is indeed rather formulaic just enhances the experience. My biggest issue with it was that I really like what they did with Joe in this story, so the big focus on Mac's backstory felt like a distraction for a long time. But in the end that turned out to be absolutely necessary to make the ending work. The ending's just great, by the way, and I shall say not more about it. 9/10

Odd Taxi

Yeah boy, here's the show that has apparently become somewhat of a "greatest show you didn't watch" meme, which I can feel smug about because I don't need YouTubers to tell me what's good and followed this from day one. Anyway, Odd Taxi is indeed great, the greatest show in a few years even. What starts out as seemingly a relaxed hangout show in the vein of Midnight Diners quickly turns into a psychological murder mystery while never losing its quirky humor. The character writing is outstanding, with even small bit players being on a level that the average anime wishes it could have for leads. And the rollout of the mystery is exemplary, with answers given and new questions raised every episode with a satisfying and logical payoff in the end. This is also the rare anime that has rock solid production from the first to the last second; it's never really flashy but excellently done and highly consistent nonetheless. And the music just owns. I have a few complaints, mainly that there's a few logical weaknesses in the story (which wouldn't even register in a lesser show, but sticks out here since the rest is so immaculately constructed) and that the ending overextends on the emotions when the rest of the show is so reserved and dry in comparison. But those are only the reasons why I didn't give it perfect marks, and I almost did that anyway. 9/10

[cassiaa]

Metanoia BTTB2

warnings: asking for sex; mentions of sex; manipulating; slight seducing and mentions of seduction; alcohol;

All of Namjoon's muscles clenched immediately, his body taut as a bowsting.

She didn't elaborate or explain. She stared directly into his eyes with that fire of hers smoldering and waiting for an answer.

Was she really looking for some quick fuck? Was this what had her down that past two hours? Or was this her way of distracting herself from the real problem at hand?

From what Namjoon had dug up, his sweet little jagi was exactly that, sweet and innocent. She didn't party, only drank on special occasions, he could only guess had never done drugs from her perfect school records and she hadn't been allowed to date or go out with strange boys.

Her fathers leash was tight around her neck, it had made his blood boil when he came to that conclusion.

That was another thing he'd be changing soon, he would take the studded choker off her neck and place his own there. His was much softer, much more loose, allowed more freedom and gave her even more luxuries that she already possessed.

Namjoon had no immediate plans of denying her, though he did want to know exactly where this came from, so he could make sure she wouldn't be out propositioning to just any pathetic little boys she could meet. He was more than willing to fuck her to her little hearts desire. Until all she knew was him, until she couldn't form any coherent sentences, let alone remember her own name. His was all she'd be able to say by the time he was done with her. He'd make sure to fuck her so good she would know better than to run to anyone else for something only he could provide her.

With those thoughts that had his mind racing and muscles coiling, ready to pounce, he smoothed his expression into slight confusion, maybe a bit of amusement in there and calmly said, "excuse me?"

"Really?" She nearly rolled her eyes. "You don't seem dense to me. Maybe I was wrong." She huffed, finally breaking eye contact, looking rather annoyed and mostly with herself. He could see the warring behind her eyes.

"Do you often go up to people asking them for sex?" Namjoon asks calmly, one side of his mouth kicking up as he leans back in his chair, exuding power. His movement drew her gaze back to him, and she unconsciously bit her bottom lip and Namjoon felt low growl hum in his throat at that combined with her innocent expression and the way she shifted in her seat. He just knew she was getting turned on already. He'd have to work hard not to break her.

Her eyes widened, no doubt hearing the noise and finally she answers. "No-"

"Then why approach a random man and ask for sex?" As he spoke, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, his hands clasped in front of his mouth and glasses slipping down his nose just a bit. It didn't help the heated gaze he pinned on her. "This isn't a club," he added when he saw her swallow, it seemed she didn't know what to do with his full attention on her. He'd remedy that quickly, his angel always had his attention, even when it seemed she didn't. "Or a bar. Why here? Why now?.... why me?"

Her eyes dropped to his lips as his voice dipped lower and quieter with every word.

"If you don't want to do it," she paused, trying to regain the control of the situation that she thought she had, taking a breath and steeling herself, eyes losing a bit of that glassy glaze they developed. "Then you don't have to. I'll just go to either of those places and find someone who will. Can't be that hard."

She said it with a bratty attitude that Namjoon instantly found arousing and annoying in the same moment and his mind immediately supplied a dozen ways to make her lose it.

Annoyed, she stood and slid out of the booth, not expecting him to follow. He did, smoothly and with much more elegance. A closed off look on his face as he rebuttoned his suit jacket. He dwarfed her in size, she looked between five three or five four in her flat shoes. In shock, she took in his appearance, seemingly appraising him and liking what she saw as her eyes lit up and she swallowed again.

"Shall we?" He asked stepping close enough to her to invade her personal space, past what social etiquette deemed fit, but not far enough to be overly intrusive and scare her or make a scene. Out of the corner of his eye he had been watching the cook and the waitress, an older couple who seemed protective of his jagi. They had kept an eye on her the entire time, the older woman had held a short conversation with his jagi when she first came in and the woman had even brushed back Ava's hair during the course of her meal. His jagi hadn't shown any signs of being uncomfortable with the motherly gesture so Namjoon had let it be. But the way that they watched him with such distrust, Namjoon was debating on whether or not they'd need to be dealt with or not. If they wouldn't become a problem for him down the road he could maybe even use them.

Ava nods slowly. Almost disbelieving that what she had asked for she was getting. "My place or yours?"

Namjoon was a bit disappointed that she was offering her own bed to a stranger, but perhaps she felt safer there instead of trapping herself in an unknown place. Namjoon couldn't follow the knowledge (or lack there of) that she was using to make the decision.

But he knew she lived alone. No chef, no maid or any help of any kind, no security, other than what her building supplied at the main entrances. It was easy for him to get to her personal space, but that meant it was easy for others too.

Her father was a fool, he had made many enemies in his time in the illegitimate side of his business, and once again Namjoon felt his dislike for the man swelling deeply at his negligence. He broke his thoughts, paying for his drink and tipping generously. He gestured with a hand for them to go and placed a hand to her back that was neither too low or too high. If she was having second thoughts, he didn't want to scare her into running. He'd really have to woo her.

"I'm only in town for the weekend," Namjoon supplied, opening the door for her and stepping close enough for his jacket to brush against her as they exited together. "I'm staying at the Baccarat Hotel in Manhattan-"

"My place then." She interrupted. "I'd rather not be seen going into that hotel with you. It looks... bad." She carried off, fingers playing with the hem of her babydoll dress.

Namjoon nods, humming his approval. His smart girl. She was protecting her image, their were plenty of reporters that hung out near the richer hotels. And Namjoon only stayed at the best. She must've pieced together that he was well enough off by the way he dressed and the hotel he was staying in.

"Lead the way." His grin was perhaps a bit to sharp as she looked up at him with big round eyes.

He had to act as if he had never been near her place of dwelling though, so even as she seemed to take the long way he didn't correct or give any hints that he was on to her as he made polite conversation the whole way. In fact, he was soaking up all he could from this time he had with her, he wanted to build a relationship with her. One that was more than just sex- though that was something he did look forward to. She was quick to offer up her first name. But not her family name. Ava. He acted politely, as if it was brand new information and then he offered his whole name just as readily. She repeated it carefully and Namjoon's body reacted to his name falling from her pretty pink lips, and he didn't stop the sudden urge to press his lips to hers in a heated kiss as they were stopped on a crosswalk at an intersection. He swooped down to her height, the hand on her back crushing her chest tightly to his and his free hand wrapping around the side her slender neck as she gasped and their lips met. Her neck was small enough for his thumb to tilt her jaw up and for his fingers to cup the back of her neck entirely and pull her face even closer as he dominated her mouth swiftly making it a bit more passionate and stealing all her breath away.

He pulled away from the heated kiss first, leaving her clutching his front and gasping for air. Her eyes went down immediately and Namjoon watched with a growing smile as she tried to compose herself.

He dipped close enough for his lips to touch her ear and whispered, "shall we?"

Everywhere his lips or breath touched rippled with goose bumps right away and he admired the skin their, how smooth and creamy it looked. He couldn't wait to mark it up. He placed a sweet kiss to her ear, humming in satisfaction when a shiver went down her body.

It didn't take long before they were in her penthouse. Namjoon had found deep in many, many files that the penthouse was a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. A bit of freedom for her so long as she obeyed. Namjoon had already had Taehyung and Hoseok sweep the place for any sort of bugs that could've been hidden. Namjoon took in the room with out rudely intruding. He eyed the entrance in distaste. It was a bit of an annoyance and disgust that Americans didn't remove their shoes upon entry into their homes. They walked all over their messy cities and then tracked it through their house. He wondered how he could convince her to abandon that habit.

"Make yourself comfortable I suppose." She said, heading into the kitchen, "feel free to look around." She shrugged, not looking over her shoulder.

Namjoon shook his head, his smart girl could be so naive. She just invites a strange man into her home all alone (for sex no less) and tells him to 'make himself at home'. It was clear she had never brought anyone home with her before. He grinned again, taking in the rooms slowly, even though he truly already knew the place inside and out. He did take more time to look in depth at the pictures on the wall and on each table. His beautiful jagi. He grinned. His innocent virgin baby girl. He had no doubts at this point that she was a virgin. And with the way her body reacted to his touch, he doubted anyone had ever touched her at all.

He found her pouring a glass of dark alcohol that she pulled up to drink quickly. Not seeing or hearing his approach, she was shocked when he pulled the glass from her hand, giving an amused expression and raising a brow in question. Her eyes narrowed in what seemed to be annoyance or perhaps defiance as her eyes flickered to the bottle on the counter. Namjoon once again wanted to rid her of the brattiness. He took off his glasses slowly, folding them closed and setting them beside the drink before caging her against the counter and overwhelming her with just his presence alone. He waited a moment, for her to push him away or tell him no, and when she didn't he leaned down and connected their lips in the softest touch he could manage. He didn't make any move to deepen the kiss, or escalate it in any way. He just moved his lips softly against hers. Coaxing her into the kiss until she was breathless again before he pulled back. He smirked proudly at what he had managed to do to her with just a kiss. Her chest was heaving as she worked on slowing her breathing, and it took her a moment before she opened her eyes, they were clouded and it had Namjoon humming in satisfaction.

"I need you sober, baby." He said softly, voice smooth as velvet as he cupped her jaw gently, he stroked a thumb over her cheek as he spoke. "If you don't want to do this you need to tell me now...." her eyes focused a bit at that, the hand that had tangled in his jacket gripped a little tighter, unconsciously begging for him already. "Once I start I'm not sure I'll be able to stop, beautiful." He added slowly, with a light nip to her ear.

He kissed the skin under it gently at first, a light peck before moving down a bit, kiss by kiss until he found her soft spot and started sucking and biting. He kept it more lips and tongue rather than teeth, knowing she wasn't ready for anything too rough. He was going to take such good care of his jagi. The breathy moan she released accompanied with the death grip she had on his jacket and arm had him grinning in her neck. "Are you ready jagi?"

She was whining low and needy, nodding her head and not letting go of him as he pulled up and stood straight. He unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and her hands fall away from him. He held her in place with nothing but his gaze alone.

"Always use your words," he instructed, folding the jacket in half and setting it down with care. "When I speak to you, I expect an answer."

His sweetheart nodded at first before stuttering out an 'okay'. He tugged her hand, having her stand and helping her take off her own jacket. "Where's your room jagi?" He asks, hiding his grin until she turned to lead the way. He squeezed her hand a bit. "Words angel."

"My room is up the stairs and down this hall." She supplied quickly, eager to please him, "along with my office, and my closet and bathroom. Down the other hall is two guest rooms, a sitting room and another bathroom."

Namjoon made a noise in the back of his throat, nodding his approval and gripping her hip as they went. Her room only held a bed, a very big bed, a chair in the middle of the room facing the floor to ceiling windows and a bedside table. Though she did have a pair of panties and a night dress thrown against the wall but neither cared as Namjoon spun her around, both hands against her waist and kissing her again. She gripped his arm and neck, excited and wanting more but Namjoon was prepared to take his time. He was going to have her begging for him before all her clothes were even off, and considering she only had on a few items it would be a challenge. But one he was more than willing to take head on. He sucked another mark into her neck, loving the way her head fell back and she moaned. It was going to be a long and beautiful night, he grinned.