#read the fic btw

[ryolightswan]

“'Every morning,' Rei said, as his finger slowly began to pull, 'Kazuki puts the sun in the sky.'

Shigeki stared.

And died."

Fan art based on the Buddy Daddies fic "I want a hundred days of bright light" by MercurialNight #buddydaddies #reisuwa

[heyybeach]

Growing up is actually just enjoying the exact same things you enjoyed at 14 years old, but in a more gay way

[tadfools]

You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?

You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on a chapter at three am is right?? Right????

You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?

[vivid-vices]

the way chuuya immediately looks down at his shoe with that curiously hopeful look on his face is the cutest thing in the world. "i don't care about dazai at all" chuuya, my guy, you want his approval of your fucking shoes

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

a little wip for u guys cuz i’m gonna be busy this week <3 (also @bisexuallsokka , you know what this is for)

ft. bonus sketchy panic

[donutfloats]

Spending some time with the in-laws

[mangostarjam]

taking care — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, "brat" as a petname, smut towards the end, 4.4k words

"Aren't you too old for this?"

Sakura Haruka grimaces and shoves his bruised hands into his pockets. You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. There's dirt smudged along his cheekbone and the end of his sleeve is ripped.

"They were tryin' to hit on a girl." It comes out mumbled. Haruka's two toned gaze is averted to the top of your head. It was always difficult to get him to meet your eye in your high school years, but ever since he hit his growth spurt and graduated you feel like it's gotten worse.

"Haruka-kun," you sigh, "c'mere."

You grab his arm and tug, taking advantage of his brief moment of surprise to drag him into the back of the bakery. Your coworkers wave and smile at the former school captain but otherwise leave the two of you alone.

"Y-you…! What're you doing?"

The back office of Saboten is neat and clean and thankfully empty. You shove Haruka into a chair and grab his chin, ignoring the flare of heat beneath your fingers as he turns bright red.

"Did you get hit on the face?" you ask, leaning closer to look. The dirt smudging his cheek is loose, brushing away easily when you stroke the smooth skin there. You probe gently at the strong bone beneath and ignore the way his chest seizes with a held breath.

"No," he mumbles, "it's just dirt."

Your attention is drawn — as always — to his eyes. A muted, stormy gray blue and a bright, shimmering gold meet your unabashed gaze as your thumb strokes along his cheekbone again.

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt." You allow yourself a tiny grin as he scrunches his nose at you. "You could've let the new Bofurin kids handle it… but those guys will definitely think twice about messing with anyone from our neighborhood now."

"'Course," Haruka sniffs. You wonder if he knows he's leaning into your palm. "It was a quick fight, anyway. Only losers are late."

"I told you, you don't have to pick me up from work. I can handle myself." You giggle as he scoffs. You slide into a crouch, propping up your elbows on his knees for balance. "Give me your hands, Haruka-kun."

Your boyfriend hesitates for a short moment before releasing a breath. His hands are rough, but he flips them over obligingly and doesn't flinch when you curl your fingers around his wrists. "You've bruised your knuckles again," you tsk. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."

"W-wait." Haruka's entire face is charmingly pink, the gentle hue sweeping along his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. "You don't… I mean, I don't need you to —"

"I know," you hum, tugging his hands up to brush a gentle kiss along his skin. "But I want to."

Haruka stays quiet as you fetch the first aid kit and get to work disinfecting the tiny cuts on his hands. You're used to the comfortable silence, basking in the familiarity of tending to his battle wounds in the back of the bakery where you first met.

You never would've guessed that part of your job duties at the bakery would include taking care of the new out-of-towner all those years ago, though it wasn't like he went along with it quietly. Your boss at the time was adamant that the Bofurin boys deserved all the freebies the bakery could afford to give, and she never minded when you'd pop off to the back alley to administer first aid.

Nirei was the one who knew you were handy with a medical kit, but it was Suo who eventually tricked their first year captain into coming to you. Haruka was a lot pricklier back then, shying away from casual human contact like everyone was out to get him but diving into fights like nobody's business.

Luckily for you, in spite of his speed and reflexes, Haruka definitely wasn't used to girls who were willing to literally sit on him to force him to stay still for first aid. After enough times shoving freshly baked bread into his hands and making him into your first aid practice dummy, he started to show up outside the bakery's back door on his own, often looking like a disgruntled street cat.

Little by little, you learned which breads he preferred and you begged Kotoha to teach you how to make omurice the way Haruka liked it. Little by little, he stopped flinching away from your touch and even let you lean against him when you needed a short break from work or studying, propping your head up against his shoulder and staying still enough that sometimes you'd fall asleep.

Little by little, the two of you fell in love.

Haruka doesn't say anything as you finish smoothing the tape holding his new wrappings together, but he flips his hands to hold onto you as you rise from your knees. You smile. "Do you wanna get dinner at Cafe Pothos? Kotoha-chan might make fun of you, though."

"She'll make fun of me no matter what," he grumbles. You snicker as he ducks his head. From this angle, you can only see the pale white eyelashes of his left side pressing against his skin as he takes a deep breath. "Don'tcha need to finish your shift? I'll be outside."

"Aw, are you worried about me?"

"Shaddup" Haruka huffs. "As if I care."

You grin as he rises to his full height, still steadily avoiding eye contact as you squeeze his hands. After all these years, it's cute how flustered he still gets when you tease him. "Haruka-kun? You can let me go now."

"…Can't."

"Oh?" you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to catch his eye. He scowls. "If you just loosen your fingers—"

"Sh-shut up." You watch patiently as your boyfriend takes a deep breath. It's quiet in this back office, though a wall is shared with the employee locker room and you can hear a few of your coworkers laughing and chatting indistinctly. The smell of rising dough and freshly baked bread permeates the room, cut through with the sharp tang of antiseptic cream.

Haruka's ears are still red. You catch a glimpse of them through his black and white hair and squeeze his hands again. So cute. "Haruka," you say.

"…What?"

You rise up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding onto his hands for balance as you rock forward. Haruka predictably freezes before making a rough sound and kissing you back, letting you take the lead as you lean into him. His heartbeat jumps beneath your lips as you move to kiss at the soft spot below his jaw, earning another strangled noise that makes you smile into his skin.

It's warm. You think maybe your own ears are red enough to match his, but you don't give him a chance to notice, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and disentangling yourself. "I've gotta get back to work. I'll see you in a bit, 'kay?"

You leave him in the back office, knowing he'll find his way to the alleyway behind the bakery to wait for you, as always. Your coworkers don't mention how long you were missing, but you take over the mopping and cleaning duties as a thank you anyway.

Haruka doesn't take your hand when you meet him after your shift, but he walks close enough that your shoulders brush with every step. The gentle ringing of the wind chimes strung up below the shopping district sign follows the two of you on your walk towards home.

"What should we have for dinner, since you don't wanna endure Kotoha's teasing?" you ask, grinning lopsidedly when Haruka snorts in response. The street lamps cast a glow along his black and white hair, haloing him in a light gold that pales in comparison to his golden eye.

He glances sideways at you as you pause at a crosswalk. You catch a flash of gold and blue before he faces forward again. "You're comin' over?"

"Yes, or else you'll eat instant noodles again and die of malnutrition," you say. The two of you step into the street, though he steps slightly ahead of you to make sure it's clear. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Let's have curry."

"Did you get ingredients for curry, mister?" you ask, bumping your shoulder into his arm teasingly. "Or will we need to stop by a konbini again for emergency supplies?"

"That was just one time," Haruka grumbles, but he glances back at you fondly as you laugh. "And I went shopping earlier, brat."

He lets you hold onto his sleeve as you enter his studio apartment and stays steady as you toe your shoes off in the genkan. The place is vastly improved from the first time you stepped foot in it all those years ago, when you were delivering food for a sick Haruka.

Gone are the creaky hinges and peeling paint — the walls are smooth and clean, the cabinet doors are all securely attached, and there are actual curtains hanging over the balcony doors. He still sleeps on a futon, but he also got a low table and cushions for guests after you complained about eating on top of cardboard boxes, and he got a dresser to store his clothing after you took him shopping so he'd stop wandering around town always wearing his high school uniform.

Making dinner is always fun, with Haruka, because even though he's grown and learned a lot, you still get to tease him about his bulk stack of instant noodle packages and he still turns bright red when you lean over the table to offer him a spoonful from your plate.

He's more relaxed here, more willing to close the gap between you when you reach out to him. It used to worry you in the beginning — would you always be the one to make the first move? Did he actually like you, or was he just going along with your flirting because he didn't know any better?

Then he does something like swiping his thumb along your lips and sticking the digit in his mouth, laughing at your surprised gasp and gathering up the dishes before you can form a coherent thought. He asks about your day and listens as you tell him about the cute little kid who came into the shop asking for curry bread because "that's Sakura-taicho's favorite, and I wanna be like him when I grow up!"

You bask happily in the furious blush that paints his skin, grinning to yourself as he stammers and jerks his face away.

"Did you get new towels?" you ask, handing him a soapy plate to rinse off. Your boyfriend takes it, huffing an amused snort when you yawn widely. It's nearing your bedtime, and your sated appetite is making you even sleepier.

"Yeah," Haruka says, "since you were complainin' last time that mine're scratchy."

"Oh, nice," you say, rinsing the suds off your hands and moving to stand behind him. You shove your face into his shoulder blades before he can move, wrapping your arms around his middle as he tenses beneath you. It's been ages since he was an active fighter defending the town, but you can still feel the power and strength of his densely packed muscles twitching under your hold. "Mm, I'm sleepy…"

"Gwah! What are ya, an octopus?!" Haruka sets the clean plate on the drying rack and settles his hands on top of yours, but he doesn't move you. He could easily overpower you, though you're hugging him pretty firmly, pressing your entire body up against his as you take a deep breath. "The hell're you doin'?"

"Hugging you," you say. Haruka's fingers tighten around your wrists, but he still doesn't move you.

"I got that, genius."

"I'm just recharging before I have to head home," you mumble into his shirt. You're saving both of you from embarrassment, here, hugging him from behind like this, so really he should be grateful that you're so considerate of his feelings.

"It's late."

"I know," you whine, squeezing him just a little bit harder. "I don't wanna think about it."

"You have a toothbrush here."

Oh. "I don't have clothes here."

"You can borrow mine." Haruka stiffens even more as your hands clench the front of his shirt. "I-It's not like I'm tryna get you to stay over! It's just that it's late and you've gotta get up e-early tomorrow! I'm not some kinda pervert!"

You giggle into his back and nuzzle your forehead into the strong muscle there as he finally relaxes. "I'd be kinda upset if you didn't think about it a little bit, Haruka-kun. I am your girlfriend, after all."

Haruka lets out a huge sigh and moves to brace his hands on the counter. "You can take a bath first. Lemme go heat up the water."

"Are you trying to be a gentleman again?"

"Wuh — what're you talkin' about? I already told you I'm not a pervert!"

You laugh. "Last time you went to heat up the water for me, you didn't come out for a solid twenty minutes. I thought you passed out in there."

"That was just — I was just —!" Haruka hangs his head and you press your cheek against his back. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in double time. "I was tryin' to calm down."

"You don't have to, y'know," you say softly, patting at his firm chest with a sigh. "I wanna do it too."

Haruka chokes on his spit. Or at least, you think that's what happens, because he lapses into a coughing fit and gently pushes you towards the bathroom with a red face. He refuses to answer your concerned questions, only shoving a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into your arms before shutting the bathroom door on your amused face.

You shower and bathe on your own, humming a nonsensical tune as you lather up with his shampoo and body wash. It's a minor miracle and mostly a testament to your relationship that he has amenities at all, the clean smelling soaps clearly picked out with a thought towards your possible use of them. It makes your heart stutter in your chest when you notice that he's stocked your favorite brand of lotion on the counter and even left a clean face towel and headband for you to use while washing your face, as if he knew you'd need them eventually.

His clothes are a little too big on you, but you cinch the waistband of his shorts and hope for the best as you step out of the bathroom. Haruka is sitting stiffly at the low table, glaring down at his phone as the screen lights up with texts.

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

Haruka looks up and freezes. You pause in the act of adjusting his shirt on your shoulders, blinking at your boyfriend as he seems to go through five stages of something before he turns a bright cherry red and slams his eyes shut. You snort.

"You've seen me naked before, Haruka-kun."

"S-shaddup! T-that's different!"

You get on your knees in front of him and cup his face in your hands. Haruka doesn't flinch, but he cracks open one stormy blue eye like he's worried about what he might see. You roll your eyes at him. "Are you good? Why do you look so pissed at your phone?"

"Oh," Haruka blinks and glances sideways at the offending item. His face is warm in your hands. "The guys found out you're staying over."

"Are they giving you advice on how to get laid again?" you ask, giggling. "I love you, but please don't listen to Umemiya-san. I promise I don't get turned on by plant based pickup lines."

"I'm gonna shower!" Haruka stands abruptly and shuffles past you, but he pauses at the door. "You can read it, if ya want. The chat thread."

You raise an eyebrow and pick up his phone as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. A generic wallpaper greets you as you swipe it open, but you notice a star emoji next to your name in his message history, which makes you smile.

The chat thread with Haruka's former classmates is at the top, filling with more unread notifications as you watch. Scrolling through, you grin to yourself as the boys send teasing and shy stickers, interspersed with their own complaints of struggling to find partners for themselves and throwaway comments about "that lucky bastard Sakura" snagging "the cutest girl on Tonbu street".

"What're ya laughin' at?" You blink as Haruka crouches in front of you, a towel hanging around his neck. He's shirtless, and you watch with interest as a gentle pink flush deepens and spreads along his skin. "Quit starin'!"

"Y-you're the one who came out shirtless," you squeak, setting his phone aside and reaching out for him. Haruka chews on his lip but lets you touch him. "That's so unfair!"

You trail your hands down his bare sides and smile as he tries to suppress a shiver. Then you reach for his hands. "The first aid kit is here," Haruka says, stretching out to grab it from its shelf. The movement puts his hard muscles on full display, though you have a feeling it's unintentional. Regardless, you can't quite tear your eyes away from his chest and stomach, watching as the muscles of his abs flex when he returns to his crouch.

"You're so stupidly hot," you mutter, accepting the kit and snapping it open. "I can't believe you just walk around looking like this."

"H-huh?" Haruka's eyes widen in surprise. You grab his hands to keep him from running away, but he stays still as you reapply ointment and bandages to his knuckles.

"I know you find it hard to believe, since people used to give you shit about your looks, but you are…" you pause and glance up at him, taking in his smooth skin, his beautiful gray blue and golden eyes, his fluffy black and white hair, "stupidly hot."

Your boyfriend sighs and places a hand on your hip. You set the first aid kit aside and grin up at his pleasantly pink face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

Haruka kisses you slowly, tentatively. It's a little precarious, leaning up as he crouches in front of you, so you drag him to the futon and pull him over you, tugging him close by the ends of his towel. "You're so warm," he mutters, shifting his weight on his elbows and doing his best to keep from crushing you.

You sigh into the next kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down, huffing a laugh when he grunts and smacks his hand against the floor in surprise. "You're so far from me, how can you even tell?" you tease.

"You're always warm," Haruka grumbles. He noses along your cheek, smiling against the smooth skin there as you giggle. "And soft."

"Are you callin' me weak?" you ask, tilting your head to kiss him again. He breaks the kiss with a pant, nipping at the exposed skin of your collar as your shirt shifts. "Ah — hey!"

Haruka groans, one of his hands going down to grip at the soft give of your waist, holding you still as he grinds down into the cradle of your thighs. You moan as his hard length drags against you, wiggling your hips into the friction as something pulses in your core. "I should've given you another shirt."

"A-another shirt? What's wrong with t-this one?" You gasp as he rolls his hips again, arching into the touch as his free hand slips beneath your borrowed shirt to brush against the swell of your chest. You grab at his shoulders and back, dragging your blunt nails along his skin as you pant. "I l-like this shirt!"

"I like it too," he admits, hiding his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hand slides up to cup one of your tits, tugging and pinching as he sucks a bruise into your neck. "Y'look damn good in it."

You whine, throwing your head back as he shoves the shirt halfway up, snagging on the bottom of your breasts before he yanks it off of you entirely. He drapes himself back over you almost right away, kissing you breathless until you lick into his mouth to earn a strangled groan.

Haruka seems content to keep kissing you, and normally you wouldn't mind, but your borrowed shorts are getting uncomfortably damp and he keeps rolling his hips mindlessly and it's driving you a little insane.

"Haruka, touch me already," you plead. Your boyfriend pulls apart a few scant centimeters, two toned eyes scanning your face wildly until you grab one of his hands and shove it down your shorts. "O-oh, yes, please right there —!"

"Fuck," he bites out. "You're so wet."

"Haruka, you need to stretch me out," you say breathlessly, squirming as his fingers slide and press against the wetness along your lips. "Y-you're too big to go right away, you've gotta ngh —"

He dips one finger into your clenching pussy and freezes above you. It would be almost comical except for how much hotter it makes you, forcing you to buck into his hand as he pants. "S-stop squirmin' or I'll come in my fucking pants," Haruka grunts, forcing himself to begin fingering you in earnest.

He grits his teeth when you whine at another added finger, scissoring them immediately to hurry this up. He doesn't want to hurt you, but when you're laid out like this right in front of him, looking so pretty and perfect, it's taking everything he has not to rut into you like an animal.

"I'm ready, 'm ready," you breathe. You wrestle the two of you out of your bottoms and giggle when he sends one pair of shorts flying into the wall, but your attention is immediately drawn to the trail of black and white strands leading down to your boyfriend's cock. "Can I?"

"Fuck no," Haruka says, positioning himself between your legs again. "D'you want me to die?"

That makes you laugh. You reach out for him as he spreads your legs apart with rough fingers, his easy, overwhelming strength making something throb in your gut. Your sex life is actually pretty healthy, considering your respective jobs and commitments and Haruka's healing trauma. He's always been careful and attentive to your needs as you learned about desire together. It's not like you're deprived of it, or anything.

But when Haruka slowly pushes his way inside you, the muscles along his jaw ticking with restraint, the feeling of being filled by him makes something snap in your core and you cum with a breathless cry.

Haruka freezes immediately, hands slamming down on either side of your head as you clench and squeeze his cock unrelentingly. He barely manages a shallow thrust before he has to freeze again, hot breaths puffing on your face.

"Did you just…?"

"Uh huh."

"Does that always happen??"

"Your dick isn't magical, Haruka-kun," you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and wiggling your hips a little. "This isn't going to happen all the time, so don't get used to it."

"I wasn't sayin' that!"

Haruka pouts into your next kiss, but you lick into his mouth and manage to draw out a low groan and an aborted thrust. The ache in your gut hasn't lessened much. If anything, the pressure of his thick cock nestled inside you is making you tingle all over, and the way sweat starts to bead along his hairline makes you want to make him cry.

"You can move, please," you breathe, "you don't have to hold back."

"Don't wanna h-hurt you," Haruka grunts, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in with a force that makes your tits sway. He screws his two colored eyes shut, brows furrowing in concentration. "Fuck, you feel so good."

"You feel good, too," you sigh. "You can let go, I promise."

Haruka's next thrust makes you moan, and something in him seems to snap. He fucks you into the futon relentlessly, propping your ankles up on his shoulders, his dick hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars fuzzing along the edges of your vision. The angle presses your clit against his skin with every thrust, sending you quickly spiraling into another orgasm as you cry out his name.

"Hah, oh fuck I'm gonna —!"

Haruka groans a strangled garble of your name as he reaches his peak, thrusting into you deeply as his cock throbs and releases thick gobs of sticky cum inside you. He lets go of your legs immediately, pressing firmly into the muscles there to ease the strain of being stretched like that for so long, but he hides his face in your neck as the two of you catch your breath.

"Should I call in sick for work tomorrow?" you mutter absently, somewhat desperately grasping for some semblance of sanity. "I dunno if I'll be able to walk."

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Haruka asks, lifting his head and wincing at the pull of sweaty skin. He's glowing, bright and handsome above you, his hair damp with sweat. His two colored eyes are a little watery, his eyelashes sticking together in clumps with unshed tears from how hard he came. The sight makes something squirm in your gut.

You reach up to push his bangs out of his face and snicker as the strands stick up. "You didn't hurt me, you just fucked the strength out of my limbs. We'll need another shower."

Haruka blushes hotly, an impressive feat considering he's still solid and hard inside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not hurt," you promise. You cradle his face in your hands and he leans into the touch. His hips roll slowly against you and he bites on his bottom lip as you gasp. "Haruka?"

"Maybe you should call in sick for work tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

Haruka nods, still blushing hard. "I swear I'm not a pervert, but you…"

You gape at him. "Are you calling me a pervert?"

"N-no!" You don't give him a chance to continue, leaning up to kiss him. You're both smiling when you pull away. "Who knew doing this stuff would feel better than fighting?"

You laugh out loud at that and flop back into the futon. "Are you seriously comparing the two things? Why're you thinking about fighting right now?"

"Can't help it," Haruka says, shrugging. "I could die when you make me feel so good. And fighting's what got me the cutest girl on Tonbu street."

[supine-ly]

misunderstandings incoming…

fanart for Existential Crisis Mode, an absolutely amazing fic written by @luciaintheskyainthi seriously this fic has me waiting on hands and knees for every update it’s so good

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[kulai]

DAY 24: First Date

check this out on twt ! based on ch16 of "between the shadow and the soul" on ao3. ANOTHERR heavy recommendation!

[saintshigaraki]

more dark fics should feature vanilla sex i think. it almost always works to make the fic more unsettling somehow

[ricesinspo]

☆ — 'someone finally cares about you' prompts. by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!

— ☆ —

[★] they wrapped their arms around you - you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

[★] getting pulled aside while everyone else is yelling at you. they get you like none of the others do; they know not to yell.

[★] patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.

[★] ^ with no judgement.

[★] they notice whenever something's wrong.

[★] letting you cry into their arms. telling you it's okay, everything is okay - and you know it's true because they're with you.

[★] letting you cry at all; realizing you don't have to hide your tears in front of them.

[★] "in a world where people don't care about me, i'm lucky to have you."

[★] ^ and then they're like "who hurt you" / "where are your __ i just want to talk" lmao

— ☆ —

[ardentpoop]

[amourninghost]

man no more than animal, made of moral chemicals

( artfight attack on @banana-zim )

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[psqqa]

yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.

phoenix wright

phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright

phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people’s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright

phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright

phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright

phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright

phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright

phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright

phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright

phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright

just

phoenix wright

crunchiest man in the world

and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him