#screw him man sheesh

[hanafubukki]

Hello Hana, I hope you're doing well 😊 so recently I've been reading Sherlock Holmes and read some good scenes that fueled something in my brain.

You and Lilia have been pretty good at covering up the series of crime you two committed. Unfortunately, due to some technical errors, the police was already on the way here before you two could. You swear that he did it on purpose, when you saw him smiled, as the police car's siren becomes closer and closer.

"It took them quite a long to catch us in the act, but I'm not one to undermine someone's effort."

You almost smacked him in the head, when he walked to a nearby window, giving his location the police below. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled the curtains to cover yourselves. "Lilia! What were you doing?!" you hissed.

He just laughs, "You worry too much sweetcheeks. We'll be fine."

You shake him in hopes to fix his loose screws in the head. "What do you mean fine?! We're surrounded!" you stopped shaking him and looked at the stairs when you heard footsteps, hastily going up the stairs.

"Seems like you've given them an aid while you were scolding me," he chuckles.

"It's completely your fault why I screamed! I've already had plans to escape, but were foiled when they were able to pinpoint that were still here!" you scolded him as both of you ran up the stairs.

He almost escaped, if only he didn't help you when you trip on the carpet on the floor. The police men eagerly handcuffed both of your hands together, guiding you two out of the building. Reporters were outside, sharing to the world that both of you were finally caught and that the citizens don't have to worry anymore.

As you two reach the car, and they were about to shove both of you inside, Lilia squatted down, bringing you along as you two were chained together. He then uses his legs to kick the policemen behind, and grabbed the gun using his free hand. You almost would have kissed the floor, if it weren't for your reflexes with how fast he moves. He stands up, bringing you along, and hugged you closer to his chest (re-using that scene from my general lilia ask 😆 lmao when will I experience this in real life). You heard several gun shots, and you crumpled his vest under your free hand from worry.

Both of you opened the police car and went inside. He sat on the driver's seat with you beside him, locking the door with your free right hand. He uses his right hand to pull the-stick-thing (I forgot what its called 😭), and you glared at him with how harshly he did so as your left hand was tied to his left. As you guys left the scene with the police car, you broke the silence between you two.

"Lilia what the hell was that? We could've gotten shot or died! We can just escape the cell with their help, considering we were just aired on live TV."

"Here I thought you'd finally praise me. I save you, you know?" he rolled the steering with only one hand and smirked at your annoyed face.

"You mean using me as a shield, so you don't get shot?" You rolled your eyes.

Lilia sighs as his advances were once again thwarted by you. He will soon definitely soften that rock hard heart.

---

Dayum almost 500+ words in under 10 minutes? Sheesh, my mind and fingers works fast when that old man is involve- I used the endearment sweetcheeks because I'm sure that his cheeks are tasty and sweet, once you bite into it 😋

Hello Aqua 🌸💚🌷

I’m good thank you 🫶💞 Sherlock you say 👀 are you going to watch any of the live action adaptions? I recommend reading the moriarty the patriot manga/anime. It’s really good 💞💞

Bat dad just has a way of inspiring us 😌🥰

“His cheeks are tasty and sweet” reminded me of this meme I have saved 🤣

…Lilia, that is not the way to get to someone’s heart 🤣😅

In fact, it’s perfect way for you to get kicked in the shin and then maybe a kiss…if we are nice about it.

Next thing we know, you’re going to try to fake your death for a kiss or confession or something 😆😅

This scenario kind of reminded me of this song, have you heard of it? But the song was more of a…bad ending. Lilia and us got lucky compared to the couple in the song.

[rosella35]

Kaleb's Bad Day: Part II

Part II of my little thing featuring Kaleb's existentialism and Brooke being... considerate? Consider this a teaser of what their relationship will be like two months after the events of the main story...

I hope you enjoy!

Content warning: contains swearing and themes of prejudice.

****

After checking briefly that the coast was clear, Brooke sucked in a breath and exited the girls bathroom. She walked down the empty hallway with as much purpose as she could muster, though her heart still pounded loudly in her chest. She could feel a second, much smaller heart pounding against her body as well, fluttering even faster than her own. Kaleb sat hunched up at the bottom of her jacket pocket, his tiny, shaking hands gripping the thick denim on either side of him to steady himself.  

After the two of them had recovered from their embarrassment in the bathroom and Kaleb had readjusted the toilet paper around his waist, Brooke had taken it upon herself to put the rest of their plan in action—anything to get her mind off of what she’d just witnessed. Obviously, Kaleb had protested against her planned hiding spot for him, complaining that it would be too obvious. To prove her point, Brooke had stood in front of the mirror by the sink, demonstrating how little Kaleb’s tiny form actually stood out from inside the pocket. After seeing that, Kaleb had shivered but said nothing, and dropped down into the pocket without a word. 

If anything could have reminded him of just how small he was compared to a human, it was that. 

A few minutes of walking later and Brooke cleared her throat, a sound that Kaleb felt as well as heard from his position. “We’re at your locker.” She announced. When no movement could be felt from her pocket other than Kaleb’s slight weight, Brooke frowned. “Oh, c’mon, are you really gonna sulk for the rest of the day? Your clothes are in there, right?” 

Carefully, she lifted the flap of the pocket up, watching the small borrower inside shield his eyes from the sudden change of lighting and peer up at her cautiously. Curled up as Kaleb was, her pocket almost looked roomy, a thought that had never exactly crossed Brooke’s mind before. “If you don’t wanna move yet, then at least tell me your locker combination.” 

“It’s 1-2-6-4.” Kaleb replied, voice quieter than normal. 

“1-2-6-4…” Brooke muttered to herself as she fiddled with the lock. Moments later, the door came loose with a faint click, and she pulled it open, revealing Kaleb’s untidy collection of belongings. Brooke stared at the locker’s contents for a moment in bemusement. At first glance, it looked like your everyday teenage boy’s locker: a disorganised pile of notebooks, pens, and crumpled worksheets. What drew her attention though was the assortment of knick-knacks Kaleb had managed to cram into one corner—stray buttons, rubber bands, bits of string and wire, thumbtacks, screws, aluminium foil, and even an empty plastic soy sauce fish from a packet of sushi. Brook wrinkled her nose. “Sheesh, it’s like a dumping ground in here. You do know we have bins on campus, right?” 

Kaleb gave a sheepish shrug from within the confines of her pocket. “What’s that saying you humans use? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?”

She groaned. “You’re obsessive.” 

Not bothering to wait for his snarky reply, Brooke leaned into the locker so her chest was out of sight of anyone passing by and reached a hand into her jacket pocket, closing her fingers around the borrower inside as gently as she could muster. Kaleb couldn’t help but shudder slightly as he felt the all-encompassing pressure of those digits against his torso. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being handled by humans, despite how many times Brooke had proven herself to be careful in the past. Kaleb fought against his instincts to squirm against her grip as he was brought out of the pocket and into the relatively spacious interior of his locker. Once inside, he took a moment to adjust the toilet paper around his waist, before glancing across at Brooke, whose giant frame blocked out the expanse of the hallway beyond. 

“Thanks for the lift.” He said, shifting awkwardly under her gaze and trying to mask the unsettling feeling of being watched with a half-assed smile. “You can close the door while I get changed. I’ll knock twice when I’m done.” 

“Right.” Brooke nodded. The human girl spared the empty hallway a quick glance, before pushing the locker shut with a creak. 

The second the door clicked shut and darkness swallowed up the locker’s interior, Kaleb let out the breath he’d been holding in. His eyes adjusted instantly to the nearly pitch-black space, taking in the stack of notebooks, school supplies and trinkets he’d only ever interacted with at human size. It almost felt surreal seeing them now, like he was a stranger getting a glimpse into the unreachable world of Kaleb the human. Those thoughts nagged at Kaleb’s mind as he sought out the small pile of borrower clothes he kept tucked away at the back of his locker. Wasting no time, he tugged on a simple short-sleeved navy shirt, capri pants and tan shoes, and tapped lightly on the metal door to let Brooke know he was done.

Kaleb shielded his eyes as light flooded back into the locker and his world opened up again to reveal Brooke’s gigantic gaze. From outside, the human girl smiled slightly, glad to see him back in his usual borrower getup. Anything to get her mind off his bare chest, and… well… Brooke’s crude thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of the school bell echoing through the hallway. Kaleb jumped at the volume, tiny hands clamped over his ears. “Crap.” He winced, glancing around nervously. “I forgot we still had recess before next period.”

“Me too.” Brooke said, before realising the implications. “Oh, shit.” Acting on instinct, her hand shot out to wrap around Kaleb’s midsection, and she quickly lifted the flap of her jacket pocket to drop him inside, out of sight. The borrower yelped at the sudden transfer, disoriented, though his breath hitched as the noise outside suddenly picked up, hundreds of humans beginning to swarm the halls in their mad dash to the cafeteria. He drew his knees to his chest automatically, feeling smaller than ever. Despite knowing full well that no one would ever suspect Brooke Tucker of all people to have a borrower hidden away in her pocket, the layer of denim separating him from the outside world didn’t feel thick enough. 

Brooke, meanwhile, slammed Kaleb’s locker shut before anyone could see what she was doing, and started off down the hall. She passed by her own locker on the way to retrieve her packed lunch—with her parents’ current financial situation, joining the line for the cafeteria felt like a fleeting memory—before hesitating, wondering where she should go. 

From inside her pocket, Kaleb’s ears were pricked, listening intently to the sea of voices and squeaking of giant sets of shoes on the vinyl floor outside. It was always disorienting to travel by pocket and even more so when he wasn’t able to see what was going on around him. With a sigh, he shifted into a more comfortable position with his back against the wall of Brooke’s chest, hearing as well as feeling the pounding of her giant heart through the denim. Suddenly, the commotion outside ceased, and Kaleb frowned to himself, wondering where exactly his human chauffeur had ended up. Tentatively, he lifted the flap of the pocket, though froze when he felt the pressure of her hand on the outside, covering it. “Hang on.” Her voice rumbled through him. 

Kaleb’s stomach lurched uncomfortably as he felt her take a seat. Finally, once she was settled, Brooke lifted the pocket’s flap to allow her borrower passenger to take in their surroundings. 

Immediately, Kaleb pressed himself back into the depths of the pocket. “We’re outside?” He gulped, blinking up at the blue sky he rarely ever got to see from his regular size. “I thought you’d go to the library or something.” 

Brooke leant back against the trunk of the tree she’d chosen to sit under. Her face was dappled with the shadows of the rustling leaves above as she stared down at him, confused. “No one ever sits here, so I figured it’d be safer. I guess I could find us a spot in the library though, if you really want.” 

“Oh.” Kaleb said, hiding his flushed face. It was rare for Brooke to consider his needs like that. “No, it’s okay.” He said hurriedly, trying to hide the flutter of nerves that always came with being outside in an unfamiliar place. “I don’t mind staying here.” 

“Sweet.” Brooke said simply, turning to get out her lunch. Unwrapping her somewhat squished sandwich, she hesitated, sparing her downsized classmate a thoughtful glance. “Uh, do you want some of this? It’s just PB and J, but if you’re hungry…” 

“Sure.” Kaleb smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” 

Unsure how to go about sharing her lunch with a borrower, Brooke broke a small portion off her sandwich and held it out to him between her pinched fingers. She tried not to think about how she’d used her bare hands to touch his food, or how stale the bread her mum had used to make the sandwich probably was. Luckily, Kaleb didn’t seem to mind at all. To a borrower, food was food, and the novelty of actually being able to eat while at human school wasn’t lost on him. He accepted the squished clump of bread and condiments with a grin, nodding his thanks. 

It didn’t escape Brooke’s attention that Kaleb hadn’t asked to leave her pocket since she’d sat down. “You can come out, if you want.” She said, looking out at their surroundings. The tree she’d chosen was far enough against the perimeter of the school grounds that no other students were in sight, other than a group of boys playing soccer on the oval nearby. Even if somebody did come over, Kaleb would have plenty of time to duck out of sight before they arrived.  

Apparently that wasn’t enough to convince the borrower in question. “I’m fine just staying here.” Kaleb said dismissively. “I don’t wanna risk anyone seeing me.” 

He supposed it was a version of the truth. In actuality, there was a larger part of Kaleb that was absolutely terrified by the thought of being stuck out in the open without his borrowing gear. It was one of those realities of his kind that he would never expect any human to understand, let alone Brooke. To him, venturing outside unequipped was like a death sentence, something even the most hardened of borrowers wouldn’t dream of doing. Just as humankind had survived by creating their tools and weapons and inventions, a borrower’s grappling hooks, sewing needle swords, and thumbtack daggers were like their lifeline. Without them, Kaleb would be the perfect prey for a crow or stray cat, or worse, an overly curious human who just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Which leaves me all the more dependent on Brooke right now. That unhelpful part of his brain reminded him. 

“Fair.” The human girl said. “I don’t exactly wanna be caught eating lunch with a borrower, either.” 

Kaleb smirked, internally glad she hadn’t pressed the issue. “Doesn’t really suit the exterminator’s daughter reputation, huh?”

“I will leave you here.” 

They were silent for a moment, and Kaleb took a bite of his makeshift sandwich, chewing thoughtfully and trying to ignore the sound of Brooke doing the same albeit at a larger, far more unsettling scale. “I never thought I’d see the school like this.” He admitted as a way of distraction, gazing over at the red and yellow brick building in the distance. From his current perspective, there might as well have been an ocean of grass separating it from where Brooke was sitting; a reality that was both humbling and unnerving at the same time. Kaleb found himself wanting to try and explain it to her, whether she chose to listen or not. 

“I’ve always kinda seen coming here as like my second life, where I can live the way any other human teenager would without being in constant fear of danger or being caught.” He said, arms draped over the lip of Brooke’s pocket as he brooded. “But right now, when I’m like this, it’s hard to explain. It makes it so obvious that the person I become when I’m human-sized—my whole identity when I’m at school—it’s all fake. Just a lie I built to protect this Kaleb. The real me.” 

Kaleb stared at the outline of his hands, so tiny in comparison to the human whose pocket he leant out of, and even tinier when held out in front of the backdrop of Westmount State High. When Brooke said nothing in response, he sighed, speaking more to himself than anything. “But still… Even though Upsize is a pain to deal with, and clearly it doesn’t always work the way it’s supposed to, I can’t imagine going back to the way things were before I started using it.”

Her borrower neighbour’s honest words stirred up a torrent of emotions inside Brooke; something that had been happening more and more frequently lately. I should’ve known he’d start getting all existential on me, her thoughts were screaming. Deep down, she knew that she and Kaleb were beginning to reach a bit of a stalemate with their empty threats and bickering, but a part of her still found comfort in those interactions. She could keep her guard up that way, and maintain a certain degree of separation from being genuine with him. Still, Brooke couldn’t deny that other part of her—one she tried to keep sealed away—that yearned for connection. If someone had told her two months ago that she’d be finding that connection from Kaleb Finch of all people, she would have laughed in their face. And yet here they were, and Brooke couldn’t help but agree with his words. She was sick of pretending, too. 

“You basically just summed up why so many humans like playing video games.” Brooke mused, swallowing the last of her sandwich and leaning back against the tree trunk with her legs stretched out in front of her. She laced her hands behind her head. “When you’re playing as a character and really immersing yourself in their world, it’s easy to forget how shitty your own life is behind the screen.” 

Now it was Kaleb’s turn to hesitate, not expecting such an earnest answer. Brooke surprised him more and more with those these days. “My life isn’t shitty.” He said. “It’s just…” He stared down at his hands again.

“Small?” The human girl offered with a smug grin.

Kaleb hid his own smile behind the material of her pocket. “I was going to say dull, but I guess that’s a more obvious way of putting it.” 

“To be honest, I forget too.” Brooke said. “That you’re actually a borrower. You fake being human so well it’s kinda scary. But then I come home and you’re suddenly popping out of some random hole in the wall and scaring the shit out of me like it’s the most normal thing ever.” She gave a half-hearted, knowing sigh. “I get it. For you, the difference between who you are at school versus home is literally huge, and honestly, I don’t even want to try and imagine what that’s like. But you’re not really as alone as you think. Every human who knows what’s good for them puts on a face at school to protect themselves. It’s just part of fitting in until you’ve figured out the kind of person you want to be.” 

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” Kaleb said, looking up at her dinner-plate-sized grey eyes as they gazed out across the grassy oval. He could see that the Brooke at school was a different person too, in a way. She always seemed sadder, more wistful. Hidden behind that trademark smug look of hers was the pain of understanding what it felt like to be marginalised. It made Kaleb wonder how much of that was his fault. 

“I just wish I could tell everyone the truth.” He blurted out before he could fall into that particular pit of self-loathing.

From his position, Kaleb could feel as well as hear Brooke snicker. “Seriously? Like the whole class?” She asked with an amused grin. “You reckon you could trust them all? Even Amy Snyder?” 

I trust you. Kaleb wanted to say. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He agreed instead, but found himself hesitating when two figures kicking a soccer ball across the oval caught his eye. Kaleb blinked, surprised at how small they both looked from this distance, even though he knew it was only a matter of perspective. The borrower sighed. “I’d want to tell Thomas and Marcus.” He amended. “I’ve known them since I started here back in middle school. It’s exhausting, lying to them about everything. I didn’t really notice it until I started opening up to you.” 

Brooke hummed in agreement. “Yeah. Now that you mention it, I guess you do find every opportunity to tell me some weird borrower fact that I don’t actually care about.” 

When Kaleb shot her a withering look, the human girl tried again, though not without smirking first. “You’re worried they’ll look at you differently once they find out what you are, right?” 

Kaleb’s gaze dropped to the inside of her jacket pocket, where he began to fidget with the overlock stitching lining the edge. “Well… yeah.” He said quietly. “I mean, you did, didn’t you?” 

“I… did. I mean, I do.” Brooke had to admit. He’d gotten her there. Glancing down at his tiny, sulking form, she sighed, trying not to think too hard about how much she meant the words that came out of her mouth next:

“But is that really a bad thing? Yeah, I admit I still think borrowers are shit-talking little tight-wads, and I bet you still think me and my family are just another bunch of human bigots… but at least that means we both understand each other a little better, right?” 

Kaleb froze in place. Tactless as she was, he could see Brooke’s intentions as plain as day, how this was her own roundabout method of cheering him up. It made him smile, properly this time, and he met her giant eyes, opening his mouth to reply.

But then the bell rang again, signalling it was time to go back to class.

****

Fourth period was as dreary as ever for Brooke, who sat in her usual spot up the very back of the classroom so she could doodle in her notebook in peace. Although she was by no means flunking out of the subject, she definitely didn’t harbour the level of care towards maths that the borrower stowed away in her pocket seemed to have. Feeling her eyelids droop out of boredom, Brooke hid a yawn behind one hand while she sketched the outline of a guitar with the other. She hadn’t felt Kaleb’s tiny form shift against the inside of her pocket in a while now, figuring he was busy listening intently to Mrs Crowley taking questions about their upcoming exam as promised. 

Brooke rested her elbow on her desk and propped up her head with a hand. At the front of the classroom beside the whiteboard, the clock ticked away at her tauntingly. She blew the bangs out of her eyes with a huff. The sketch of her old guitar had killed exactly ten minutes of class time. 

Only eighty more to go. She thought miserably, reminded again of Kaleb and his abnormal appreciation for maths.  

After triple checking that no one was looking, Brooke decided that now was as good a time as any to check on the borrower in question. Maybe seeing him taking rigorous notes using the tiny scrap of paper and pacer lead she’d provided him earlier would spur her into actually engaging in the lesson herself. So, as quietly and non-discreetly as she could muster, Brooke pinched the flap of her jacket pocket between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it up to peer inside. She was fully expecting Kaleb’s tiny hand to immediately try to bat away her intruding digits, and for him to let out a string of curses for interrupting his note-taking (which she probably deserved).

Instead, Brooke was met with a very different sight.  

Her borrower classmate lay fast asleep at the bottom of the pocket, paper scrap and lead all but forgotten. The human girl watched his tiny chest rise and fall steadily, undisturbed by her relatively giant eyes gazing in. His body was curled up, free of the tension it had harboured since shrinking down hours ago. The near-permanent shit-eating grin had been wiped from his face, his features softened and relaxed. Brooke’s gaze lingered on his slumbering form for a moment longer, before she let the pocket flap fall back into place.

So much for catching those stupid exam tips. She thought to herself. 

For some reason though, Brooke wasn’t as annoyed as she imagined she’d be. If anything, seeing Kaleb let his near-impenetrable guard down after everything he’d been through that day made the human girl’s chest swell with unexpected warmth and that all-too-familiar emotion she wouldn’t dare acknowledge out loud. 

The corner of her lips tugging upwards into a smile, Brooke let out a sigh and turned to a fresh page of her notebook, writing the title “final exam tips” at the top. 

“You’re welcome." She whispered as she got to work.

[slaytheprofessor]

"There are lights on in some of the windows," you point out, gesturing up to the buildings. "Doesn't seem that abandoned to me."

There's a long and confused pause before the Guide responds.

The Guide: Oh. I... I actually don't know what that's about. Maybe some people left in a hurry.

The Guide: As far as I know, you and the professor are the only two people left here. I could be wrong.

You stop, and you think about this for a minute.

What's so terrifying, you realize, about a professor? He's just a man, a teacher, and likely undervalued at that. You have no way of knowing whether or not your Guide, as kind as he sounds, is telling you the truth. He's already proven that he doesn't have all the answers, and you have only just met him.

And if he's right, and the professor is intent on killing you... better not to risk it, right?

"No, screw it," you decide, spinning around on your heels. "I'm not doing this. You can get some other person to do it."

The Guide: Wh---no, that's not---wait! You haven't even heard me out!

"Don't need to," you say firmly. "I'm not killing someone who could be innocent, and I'm not risking my life. There's people left in this city, and I'm going to try to find them."

The Guide: But---

And then a voice appears in your head. Your Researcher.

Of course, you don't recall her at all, but you still feel that little rush of excitement and relief as she speaks in your mind.

Voice of the Researcher: You heard her, buddy. We're not doing this.

The Guide: I... fine.

The Guide: You walk down the street with a determined feel in your step, attempting to wave and signal at the windows that have lights flickering in them. Nobody responds to you, and the further you go, the more you realize that this city truly is abandoned.

The Guide: And just as fear settles in... you arrive at the library, sandwiched between two smaller buildings. Huh.

Voice of the Researcher: Wait, WHAT?!

The Guide: That's, uh... not how that's supposed to work. Odd.

The Guide: *overly cheerfully* Well, now, can't resist the call of adventure after all, right? Let's get on in there!

[onippep]

Let it Happen

The big Five-O, Peppi...ha! Don't you worry, I'll catch up to you soon!

Believe me, you don't want to. I walked up some stairs the other day and thought my joints were going to lock up.

[Laughs] Ah come on, I'm sure it isn't all bad! Just look at you! You don't look a day over 35.

Wait til you can see the white hairs.

You're alright, Peppi, honestly. You've been doing well for your age. I know it's a big number, but think of it this way! You're in a much better spot than you were a year ago! Several months, even!

Strange how fast stuff can change.

Yeah.

It's... been hard, either way, but yeah, a little easier. Especially with him.

Onippep?

[nods]

He's been a blessing for you. I hope I can continue to help you out wherever I can, but I think that frog's been doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

Super heavy.

But look at it. Does it look exhausted at all? No. That's passion. That's what love is, I think.

Big word.

Hm? Pbffft, no it isn't, bro, it's a simple word! Four letters!

Not what I meant.

Hear me out, though! It doesn't have to be complicated. Me and Brick? We're tight. He's like a sibling to me. First our fists were flying at each-other in that Tower, but now we're watching cartoons together every night and joking about rat and gnome things. I'd say that's love, too! Just in a different way.

...

Just-- point is, don't let more complicated definitions keep you from it. You can work for love, but it'll never be a chore. Never a stress. Let it come to you.

You're sayin' all of this as if I have a crush on that thing.

[gives him a look]

... WHAT. DON'T STARE AT ME LIKE THAT.

You're still such a scaredy-cat.

Oooh, awesome thing to say to me on my birthday, Gus! Come on, man. I'm not scared of anything.

Uh-huh.

...

...

...[snickers] Quit it.

Nuh-uh. You've been clammed up ever since we repaired that window. The tension can be cut with a dull spoon, compagno. [smacks his shoulder]

Whatever! Leave me alone. [chuckling]

It's my job to pester, you damn fruit! [laughs]

D-don't pressure me! I swear it's becoming clearer. Slowly. I just wanna be open to other options while I'm at it.

Anton's not coming back, sweetheart.

[shoves him playfully] YOU HURT ME. You hurt me good. You sure you're not single?

WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING THIS SO MUCH! You're insufferable!

[both laugh]

Back to being real-- I support you in anything you do, Pepp. Just don't overthink it. You're in a better spot now, you can process things. Don't let me set you back.

Yeah. For sure. I've-- been feeling shit I haven't felt in ages, so it's just a little jarring.

Ooh, what, the... [makes a butterfly motion with his hand]

[nods]

[mockingly] OoooooOOOoooo!~

A--OI! AYE! NOT SO LOUD!

Sorry! Sorry. I'm actually thrilled. I think something in you is healing, friend.

Pfft. Cheesy. You think so?

Yeah, absolutely. That doesn't just 'happen'.

...

[gestures]

I--uh. I just. Get super aware of time and everything, so I think that mixes into all of that. Age-wise.

You're middle-aged. You've still got plenty of time.

Easy for you to say, man, all my biological functions are already waning.

It's natural. It doesn't mean anything's ending, man. That happens as soon as we're born.

S-still, I can't help but think about how I've got a bit of a time limit to decide who I wanna be with for the rest of my life.

Sheesh. Easter really screwed you up, didn't it.

[chokes] You fuckin' think?! It's humiliating seeing everyone all married with kids while I'm the fag of the family that hasn't even gotten a date for the last 10 years. I'm such a loser, man.

Aye, easy, brother. You're fine. Look around you. Do you see anyone else across these fields? You're just in a really bad location, with bad circumstances. You're not some lesser man for that. If anything, the world owes you an apology.

That sounds like the most narcissistic thing I've ever heard.

It's got some merit to it. You have to believe me here, Giampaolo, I swear all the gays in town would be all over you if you were closer to the city.

Pffft. Whatever you say.

Next Pride, I'll prove it to you. You gotta come out this year.

I think I've still got my leather around somewhere...

That's the spirit. And who knows, maybe a certain frog can come with you. Enjoy the sights and sounds. Enjoy the You.

[flustered] Fffffuckin'. Whatever. [chuckling] My life's never been really ordinary anyway.

Your first mistake is ever thinking otherwise. My roommate is a giant rat. You suplexed a man with a pizza for a head and destroyed a giant Tower with nothing but your rage.

[sigh] ...yeah. You're right.

Sometimes you gotta let things happen. You'd be surprised.

Yeah. [smiles]

[outsiders-owen]

I t think I'm done talking to my Voices for a minute. I'm- I'm going to go see Apo. (i need to make sure he's okay i need to make sure we're okay what's happening to me) We can just- b be around each other. Talk. It'll be fun, it'll be nice, I'll help him with his horns. I It'll be good. Yeah. It'll be g great, even.

.

Apo! Hey, mate, how're you doing?

I'm alright, man, how are you?

Heh, uh- yeah, same old, same old. Would you maybe wanna head into the Maze later today?

Um... yeah, sure- could we bring someone else along? Maybe Krow? I've been meaning to talk to it in semi-private for a while now.

Of course, so long as we get to make cheesecake later?

Obviously, Owen. We do have that clearing celebration tonight- oh my god wait, you forgot again didn't you.

Maaaybe a little bit?? It's okay though, it's okay, I have time to get myself together and stuff.

Uh huh. You need to keep a tighter handle on that wild brain of yours.

OWWW-- hey, what the heck, man?! Sheesh. I'm mad at you now.

You couldn't be mad at me even if you wanted to. You're too much of a softie.

Mhmmm. This is why I hate you.

You're the worst.

No, you're the worst.

.

See, Voices? It's fine. Everything is fine, great, even. Nothing's changed between Apo and I. We're about to go into the Maze for a quick run, I'm just grabbing my armor, and then I'll get to the gate and he'll have grabbed Krow, and we'll all just go into the Maze.

Everything is fine.

You might need to screw your heads on tighter, Voices- do you even have heads? Anyway. Yeah, you're getting a bit sloppy as of late.

[about-faces]

Congratulations on your Top 22-list! Sheesh, I've been gone for a month and I feel like I've missed like half a life in the meantime. Anyway, reading through the list was a hoot. There was a surprising amount of RECENT comics as well on that list, and far up in the list too! Which leads me to a question about a story that DIDN'T make the cut, one that I was surprised didn't get a mention even at the bottom half of the list: Nightwing: The Great Leap. What made that one fall through the top 22?

Thanks, man! I was also surprised by how much recent stuff I included, but dang, it's really been a surprising last few year for good Two-Face content! When I first tried doing a Top 22 list five or six years ago, it was almost entirely older content. With potential exceptions like Peter Tomasi's work, including The Great Leap.

In fact, that story is a perfect example of why I was so riddled with indecision about how to compile this list. Before this year, I would have included Tomasi's The Big Burn and Ugly Heart (the New 52 stories) together as "one" story, but I could easily have also included The Great Leap as a kind of "trilogy" of Tomasi's particular take on Harvey, but that seemed like cheating.

The problem with all three stories is that they are all very mixed bags. Some absolutely fantastic Harvey content, combined with flaws from both Tomasi and DC editorial screwing around with things. For The Great Leap specifically, I didn't include it because of a few factors.

1.) Carol Birmingham. She was clearly made as a bland Rachel Dawes stand-in at Gilda's expense, and I have never liked Harvey having an emotional affair with her--and even LOVING her--more than Gilda. The fact that Tomasi forgot to make her a distinct character in her own right instead of just a damsel didn't help any.

2.) I hate how the story seems to be crafting a complicated, conflicted Harvey, then abandons it all in the third act to turn him into a supervillain maniac who shows no regrets nor torment over what he went through. ESPECIALLY since Harvey arguably succeeded in saving Carol from himself (by getting Nightwing's help in the first place), which could have been tragically bittersweet if Tomasi had wanted it to be.

3.) Nightwing's "No, Harvey, YOU let him win!" Dick's whole attitude towards Harvey makes perfect sense, including his callous disregard for Harvey's mental illness, but the way the narrative fully supports Dick's assertions by the end--despite everything we've seen--still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

There was a time when the pickins were slimmer for good Two-Face content that this could have still made the list. But now we're lucky enough to not have to settle for mostly mixed-bags. Hell, we're right in the middle of two potential all-time great Two-Face sagas: "Gotham Nocturne" in Tec and Batman: The Audio Adventures. It's been an exciting time! Even the mixed bags are more interesting to me than The Great Leap, like his oddball role in Priest's Deathstroke and his team-up with Jason Todd in Task Force Z. And when it comes to Tomasi, I'd still sooner include The Big Burn/Ugly Heart over TGL at this point.

I really look forward to revising the list in the coming years, to see which choices I made in 2022 have aged well and which haven't, not to mention what other new stuff might make the cut!

[badboysupr]

"Lee~ee~oh-CHAN~! 🎵"

For one so tall and lanky, he was incredibly light and graceful on his feet. As he makes his presence known, and slides and skips on over to the lad. But, oh wait-- This man was just good at everything he chooses to do, how could we forget? Even something as trivial as the way he would so choose to so gaily move then.

... Anyway, with a pucker of a pout on his lips, long index fingers would playfully reach out to gently prod at the kiddo's cheeks.

"It breaks your sensei's heart seeing you all cooped up in a place like this..."

Sure, Jujutsu High's campus may be massive (All the more so, when knowing that only a handful of students and teachers ever occupied it). Their own Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters, if you will... But nothing could ever replace the enjoyment of exploring and shopping in downtown Tokyo during their days off.

"SO!" He would exclaim as he pulled back and clapped his hands together, "Since it's my super-duper rare day off today toooo~ I was thinkin' I could show you around town!" Leave all that meditation stuff aside for today, 'cause your awesome, super cool, super handsome sensei's thinks you deserve a much needed day off like the rest of his other precious, hardworking students!

"So hang on tight-- some get a lil' dizzy and nauseous when I do this, haha..." With that little warning offered, Leo better prepare himself as he is about to be teleported with his teacher downtown~

@idyllicserendipity || you spoil us T~T <3

Leo could've been doing any number of useful, productive things.

He could've been studying. He could've been at least attempting to meditate (still practically impossible when his brain refused to shut up for longer than two seconds). Hell, he could've been practicing a bit more control over his powers to avoid what typically happened when a loud and over-the-top teacher startled him out of nowhere.

As it were, however, the sudden singsong cooing that split through an otherwise quiet atmosphere induced a clumsy jolt in the student. His hands fumbled with an alarm clock in pieces after his tinkering, a few screws clattering to the ground beneath his feet. Dual licks of flame burst from his palms and scorched the metal in his fingers, and Leo hurriedly dropped his current project to form quick fists—snuff the fires before they grew bigger.

He was also pretty sure his heart stopped, but he managed to face Gojo seconds later without keeling over, so. Crisis averted.

“Sheesh, you...” An exhale fell heavily between his words as Leo willed every part of his body on high-alert to be less alert: calm down. “You really, really need to come with some sort of warning label. Or, like, a bell or something—? How many other students of yours have you scared to death?” But the way he shook his head to himself might've been fond. Leo bent over to collect the belongings he'd dropped while his teacher prattled on.

Depositing the screws onto the desk in front of him, “Wh-wh— Wait, wait.” His hands retracted to his chest, like he expected merely touching the other would electrocute him (especially after that warning). “Do what? What are we doing? I get motion sick occasionally, if now's a good time to bring that up—”

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human

[Cyberpunk! America x reader] 08

Wordcount: 4, 490 Rating: MA+ for strong language, violence, and gore. Viewer discretion advised. Chapter synopsis: When Allen finally uncovers the truth, he walks out of his job, but it costs him his life. Meanwhile, you and Alfred have been captured by extremists. Heads will literally roll.

(Remastered)

08

On my way to hell

Nothing had even happened yet, but Allen could sense it a mile away—he was screwed, and to what degree, he didn’t know. His boss always made a point to keep things ambiguous. And up until a crucial moment to keep an unshakeable hold on him.

“You must have a lot of questions.”

A right-hand man was too generous of a title when he didn’t know shit. A glorified bodyguard was more like it. His importance was solely physical, and that didn’t bode well in a digitized world like this.

“Right, yeah.” Allen spared him a tight smile. He always knew those facts, but remembering it now sent chills down his spine. “I was just wondering if your secret parking space was really all that.”

Mizumoto didn’t answer him, and the silence ate away at him faster than he could deal. So he kept rambling, desperate to preserve the atmosphere. 

“I, uh, found somebody down there.” He continued, tensing at the memory. “The hell happened to him?”

“An experiment of mine.”

“Sheesh. What kinda experiment would leave them looking like a prune?” Allen asked. He was speaking the most, yet, he wasn’t the one dominating the conversation. “Did you bake him or something?”

Even in silence, the kumicho held all the power.

“Not at all. He mummified on his own,” The other looked him right in the eye. “But his death wasn’t in vain. I would say it served a purpose equal in value, which is the driving force of all scientific discovery.”

“Oh, yeah? And how did he die?”

“Brain death.”

Allen’s brow twitched, profoundly disturbed by the thought. But he played it off with curiosity. If not, there were grisly fates for those who reacted wrongly to the company’s doings—with empathy, not apathy.

“Damn.” He rubbed his neck. “Sucks to be him.”

And he wasn’t getting his ticket punched today.

“He was a part of the most ambitious experiment to date. One that began long before you were born.” Mizumoto explained, pausing momentarily before continuing. “Fifty years ago, this company was nothing but a lowly yakuza hiding in abandoned buildings. So, when we had the opportunity to make a name for ourselves, we took it without hesitation.”

Pulling out a long pipe, he lit the end and gave it a few puffs. While he tapped it to get rid of the residue, he sensed Allen’s growing confusion at his recount that seemingly came out of nowhere.

“You won’t rest until you have the truth. I know.” Mizumoto remarked lowly. “Even if it isn’t your place. But I’ve always admired that about you, Allen. You’ve always tried your best to live beyond your means.”

Taking on gangsters, joining the yakuza, doing everything he could to protect who he cared about. Forgetting his own heritage to adopt another, he lost and gained everything by becoming a Mizumoto.

“Even if it kills you.”

“I’m still here,” Allen laughed awkwardly.

He was used to being belittled. No matter how spunky he was, talking back to his boss was like asking for a death wish. So he never did—only this felt different. Foreboding, even. But he was too afraid to even entertain the possibility of that tone of voice.

“We made something of ourselves by developing technology decades ahead of our time,” Mizumoto turned back to the window, watching the distant blinking of lights, the airborne traffic of spinners. “Appliances, vehicles, weapons. We quickly realized we needed to protect what we were building.”

He turned back to give the other a hard stare.

“That was when I met Alfred.”

The name caused Allen’s face to contort. Flawless ivory skin, youthful vigor, and the naivety to match. The suggestion that Alfred was older than him was far-fetched enough, but by such a wide margin?

“What? But he doesn’t look a day over twenty!”

“Yes. Twenty-three. In the mind and body.” The man elaborated, watching his puzzled expression deepen.“My men found him on the streets on the brink of starvation. He was only a child, then. Ran away from his orphanage. So we took him in and raised him.”

It sounded too familiar for his comfort, ‘taken in’ by the syndicate. First, Alfred, then him. You were born into it, but what difference did that make? You were all children, lured in by the promise of protection.

“Taught him how to fight. He was exceedingly talented, so we planned to have him join our ranks when he turned sixteen. When he refused, we warned him we would be coming back for him.”

“But how is he…?”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Mizumoto walked closer and closer to him until the proximity was menacing. “In four years’ time, we brought him back to our lab. We put him to sleep for fifty years so he could wake up to a world when we made a name for ourselves.”

Allen took a step back, heart racing. He could feel himself coming apart, starting from the inside out.

“By the time he gained consciousness, we turned him into a fully-enhanced killing machine.”

His loyalty to the company and his protection in it.

“Even to this day, he remains my greatest creation.”

The way he spoke of him made his stomach churn, and the nausea went up his throat. He talked about Alfred like he was his, an object to be owned, controlled, and programmed to do his bidding.

“Let me guess. He didn’t want that.”

“He struggled until the anesthesia did its work.”

Allen closed his eyes. Sweat dampened his forehead as he processed what he was told. Forced sedation, nonconsensual body modification, just what the fuck else was he capable of? He didn’t even want to know.

“Then what about that body in the basement?”

“Oh, that?”

He opened his eyes, his complexion pale.

“That was Alfred.”

“What?” Allen strained. “What do you mean?”

“That body belonged to Alfred.” The man elaborated firmly. “The Soulkiller was a success. He was the first subject to allow for a complete transfer of the mind. His old body couldn’t accept the enhancements, so we gave him a new one—the one he has now.”

He threw his head back as heat rushed to his face. Allen didn’t think it was possible to feel so furious in someone else’s stead, let alone Alfred’s. But this?

“He is the first fully-functioning cyborg with a soul. Human thought and emotion, if you will.”

This was insanity.

“You lied to me,” Allen glared at him through his rapidly blurring vision. “You said the Soulkiller was a prototype. That you were gonna test it on him. But you were just saying that to cover up what you did!”

“And you were fine with killing him the exact same way. It would be hypocritical to blame me for it.”

“Things are different now!” He cried, digging his hands through his hair. Pointing an accusing finger at him, which wouldn’t stop trembling, his face warped with angry betrayal. “I thought he was just another cyberpsycho, but you’re the one who’s insane.”

It was disheartening to see how nonchalant his superior was, how little he cared. He stood there with his arms behind his back, waiting for him to finish.

“I can’t work for you anymore,” He turned his back on him, teeth clenched. “I’m getting out of here.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Mizumoto slid a hand into one of the flaps of his kimono. Allen was already on his way to the door, ready to put everything behind him. “My men shall escort you out of the building.”

Even then, he still wanted to look back for old times’ sake. He spent a great deal of his youth here, somewhere he used to fall asleep after work. There by the kotatsu, or on that couch. You sometimes came here to study, so he made it a habit to visit you.

But that was all in the past, now.

You weren’t here, and he was never coming back. So did that mean he would never see you again? Allen choked back a sob at the thought. As tears bubbled out of his eyes, he turned back for one last look.

But rather than a bittersweet sight of nostalgia, he found himself staring at death in the face. And to feel fear in a place he used to call home was alien to him.

Mizumoto had drawn out his katana.

He was paralyzed as he watched on. A part of him was in disbelief that the old man could even raise a hand against him. Another part of him knew this was his true self, a heartless wretch that didn’t know love.

Before he could do so little as take another step, they lunged forward and thrust the blade into his torso.

“Gh—!” Allen’s eyes flew open as a sharp pain engulfed his chest. He grabbed the handle with both hands and staggered backward, each wobbly step causing blood to pour onto the wooden floorboards.

Sweat rolled down his chin. His mouth fell agape. Lowering his gaze to where the sword plunged into, he watched a bright red patch spread on his shirt. His lung was punctured, and he was suffocating.

“You—” He looked up, face contorting. “—agh!”

While he gasped desperately for air, clinging to each breath to somehow survive, the blade pushed deeper in until it came curving out his back. To be stabbed and suffocated at the same time left him trembling with so much agony, he wished he died right there.

But his enhancements prolonged his death, letting him feel each and every part of his body shut down.

“I sensed you were in conflict with your loyalty, Allen. If you want to side with Alfred, you can do that in the afterlife.” Mizumoto smiled darkly. Raising the katana so he could be lifted a few inches off the ground, he leaned into his paling face for one final reckoning.

He kicked once, but the action only caused him to slide down on the katana, cutting him on the inside.

“Like yours, his death will be slow and humiliating. The chip will plant a virus in his system and cripple him. Then, he’ll become brain-dead so he can be put out of his misery. The most fitting end for him.”

Blood bubbled out of his mouth like a fountain, and he gritted his teeth just to stop more from spewing out. Not a word was spoken, but Allen’s expression did all the talking. His glare burned with the anger of ages, with a ferocity that would stay even after death.

You’ll never get away with this.

But perhaps, he already had.

Allen was the only one who knew of his diabolical plans, and here he was, fading away. Eventually, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, showing the whites. Only then did Mizumoto retract his sword, letting his body fall to the ground in a heavy thump.

He gave the katana a strong flick, leaving a thin line of red on the floor. The door burst open a few moments later, letting men in suits pour in.

“Take him to the dump.”

The katana came down on his mantis blades, severing them in one clean slice. They clattered on the floor and went up in sparks. Alfred reared back and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then, he started kicking his feet against the ground, wailing in agony.

Your jaw dropped, horrified by the sound of his voice. But what you saw made you cover your mouth. His mantis blades were reduced to stubs sticking out of his forearms, which twitched every so often.

Two men stood with you in the crowd, one on each side. They made it a point to hold you back, for what was about to begin would have you fighting to get onstage. Alfred was moved onto a medical table, and for what, you didn’t know. But it couldn’t be good.

The theater murmured restlessly, only to be silenced by their leader raising both hands in the air.

“Year by year, we lose hundreds to cyberpsycho attacks around the city. This man—”

The speaker pointed at him.

“—is one of thousands to instigate the senseless violence that is destroying the greatest megalopolis in the world.” He boomed, filling the stadium with his truth. The crowd went up in a passionate uproar, acknowledging the irrefutable reality that was their new norm: a widespread epidemic of psychopathy.

Alfred was laid flat on his back. The second they tied him down, he started pulling at his restraints.

But the pain was too much.

“Now, he may look like your average joe from 2070’s America, but do not be mistaken,” They continued, pulling a knife from their sleeve and holding it up. “He’s made of nothing but plastic and metal. Not a single organ is made of flesh, not even his heart!”

Your face fell, hypnotized by the glint of the blade.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all go to sleep tonight with the relief that you never strayed from the path of God. We embraced ourselves for how we were created—in his image—but folks like him have lost sight of who we are as human beings.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, manic with rage.

“This is not a human being.”

He pulled harder and harder on his restraints, fueled by a growing fire in his chest. He’d been afraid before, but hearing that changed something inside him. If he really was a freak, he’d show them a freak.

The more he strained, the warmer his wrists grew. Soon, they’d be hot enough for him to break free. Small wisps of smoke curled up from his hands, and the stench of melting rope filled his nose.

“If he were, he would bleed.” The speaker cut him across his neck, and like he said, not a single drop of red appeared. Just a transparent slither of fluid. When the audience caught on, gasps went around.

You thrashed as hard as you could in the grips of the two strongmen, but to no avail. One of them resorted to holding your neck, quelling any and all resistance. If you wanted to look away, you couldn’t now.

“Imagine what he’d be capable of when he turns full cyber psycho.” The man mused, holding the knife above his head. “Are we just going to wait for him to slay ten innocents before he’s finally put down?”

The crowd yelled in dissent.

You lunged forward, screaming for him.

“Or do we kill him now and free him from the confines of his corrupted vessel?”

Just like that, your fear for him overcame the fear for yourself. And you did what you never thought you would—take on two grown men unarmed—but you’ve never been this sure of anything in your life.

Kicking one in the groin, they released your arm and stumbled backward. That let you throw a hard punch into the other’s temple. They fell on their side with next to no grace. Then, you raced towards the stage.

The next three seconds happened in slow-motion.

The outstretching of your hand, the beating of your legs, Alfred’s head turning to you.

Before you could get close enough, you were forced to the ground by the man you kicked. They slammed your head to the floor and twisted your arm behind your back, getting you to cry out in pain.

But that wasn’t all.

When you looked up with your teeth clenched, your nose was bleeding. And Alfred saw.

The redness of your blood, their hand on your face, their nails digging into your skin. And it gave him a real taste of the madness he was accused of.

Rage was all he knew as his wrists lit up in flames. Giving his hands a strong tug, he snapped himself free to rip the knife from his captor. Then, he rolled off the table and jumped back onto his feet.

The sight of an unrestrained cyberpsycho sent the audience fleeing, including the man holding you down. As you slowly rose to your feet, you found yourself watching the most gruesome scene unfold.

Alfred marched up to their leader, swinging the knife from side to side. It cut through the air in sharp ‘fwip’ sounds, but the weapon wasn’t nearly as terrifying as its wielder—a cyborg gone rogue. There was nothing behind his eyes but mindless bloodlust.

The man stumbled backward and fell on their back.

“Help me!” He cried. His underlings ran onstage from behind, training their guns at Alfred.

You dove offstage before they opened fire.

A few bangs went off, lodging bullets into his leg and shoulder. His body jolted back from the force of being shot at, but he kept standing. And there he waited, all until all their last bullet was fired.

Then, he dashed forward, slicing their necks. Blood sprayed onto his face, but he never stopped, driven by the uncontrollable urge to mow down every last son of a bitch that dared cross his path.

The last man onstage drew another gun. His mouth fell agape in fear as he fired uncontrollably at the unkillable monstrosity that came at him. Once Alfred passed him, a horizontal line formed on his neck.

His head came off, falling down his back.

But Alfred was far from done.

The man you punched had suffered a concussion, and only now did he have it in him to draw iron. Alfred leaped offstage and onto him with his knife raised above his head. His face sparked from a bullet ricochet, but that did nothing to stop him.

Sinking that into their skull, he killed him instantly.

That left the man who started it all, their leader, who was busy shuffling away from the head onstage.

He picked up the gun by his foot and trained it at the fucker’s head. Curling his finger around the trigger, his glare deepened when he pulled it, ending it all.

Four bangs went off.

Gun shells clinked and clattered on the ground.

When he lowered his arm, they were unrecognizable. The top half of his head was gone. Chunks of flesh, bone, and brain were blasted all over the stage like a painting. What was left of him was the bottom set of his teeth, tongue, and smoking hot flesh.

Alfred took you to the first bathroom he could find. He didn’t have to pay a dime, not when his face and clothes were doused with blood. And the first thing he did was tear off the bottom of his shirt.

Twisting that into a thin tube, he put it up your nose.

Only then did he start washing himself.

Soon, you were back on the street with him again, only more exhausted than before. Your hold on his hand tightened. Then, you slowed down, clutching your stomach with a pained frown.

“What’s wrong?” He turned to you.

“I’m hungry.” You uttered.

It wasn’t the first time he heard you say it, but he was crushed. His brows trembled together as he walked, towing you along. If what happened took as long as he thought it did, you couldn’t have eaten for days.

He’d been so occupied looking for a place to stay, he completely forgot about you. He didn’t feel hunger, nor did he depend on food like you did. His strength and appearance didn’t wax or wane. But you?

“Come on. Let’s get you some real food.” Alfred kept his eyes forward as he led you down the next block.

“Like organic food?”

“Not that real.”

“Aw.”

“Princess.”

Your arms were thinner, and your collarbones weren’t as prominent as they were now. He couldn’t bear to look at you, knowing he would crumble the second he did. Even then, you could barely keep up with him, and he felt it—every pull, every pause.

Staying the night in a traditional Japanese inn was your idea. A ‘ryokan,’ you called it. Night City was rich with all kinds of cultures, especially East Asian ones. Stepping into one transported him to Japan, and as an American who never left the country, he couldn’t really complain. When you walked inside with him, he was immediately taken by the neat line of shoes.

But Alfred seemed to know what he was doing.

And you never brought it up. He slipped out of his shoes, put them together, then moved them so they could point toward the door. You only followed suit, placing your flats next to his boots.

A line of women in uniform bowed deeply at your arrival. You bowed in return, and so did Alfred. After a friendly albeit frenzied exchange in Japanese, they whisked you away, so he jogged over to catch up.

“You seem to know them,” He commented.

“It’s just hospitality.” You replied.

“But they said they’d give you your favorite room,” Alfred quirked a brow. He walked with you down the warmly-lit hall, led by the innkeepers in the front. “And all sorts of things. The soup, what vegetables are in season, the mains, desserts, and blah.”

You turned to him, stifling a smile.

“You didn’t even check in yet.” He finished.

“So you do understand.” You walked into the elevator with him, watching his expression change. Sadness pulsed through him, and it flickered in his eyes. Something beautiful was reduced to a bad memory.

After getting settled in your room, you took a nice hot soak in the private hot spring. Alfred washed up next, and the food arrived while he was neck-up in water. An elaborate array of dishes was laid out on the kotatsu, ranging from warm and cold, soft and hard.

Sashimi, tofu, rice, soup, everything fermented, dried, and marinated among other delicacies.

Before you dug into the mouth-watering dishes, you sat back and called Alfred over. He showed up a few minutes later in his yukata, his hair a damp mess and obi tied in a ribbon. Giving your head a light shake, you stood up with a small smile. It was impressive how he could manage to make anything look untidy.

“You tied it wrong.” You pulled the sash apart.

“Woah—” His yukata loosened, but before his chest could be exposed, you pulled them together again. While you fixed his sash for him, he stood over you, watching every movement of your nimble fingers, every twist and pull you made. “—right.”

Alfred was so close, you could feel his breath fanning all over your forehead. And it was quiet, save for the rustling of fabric. Fortunately, not a minute passed before you were done, gazing up at him again.

“There. Tied like a proper samurai.”

What you weren’t prepared for was how close his lips were to yours. You were quick to notice, and you looked down almost instantly. Alfred didn’t falter. He just smiled at your coyness, only it was so subtle, you missed it when you scrambled to sit down.

“What are you standing around for? Come eat.”

“Alright,” Alfred laughed, giving the table a brief scan. He had never seen so much food in one place, but weirdly enough, that wasn’t what captivated him. “So, which one am I meant to eat first?”

He looked at you several times over the course of the meal. He wished he could say it was because he wanted to, but the injuries they left you with, no matter how minor, bothered him to no end.

You were too ravenous to notice, not lifting your head once as you ate for the first time in days.

Dinner went by without a hitch, bringing the night to a close. Two futons were laid out in the bedroom with a slight gap between them. It was no coincidence that a shoji screen stood conveniently in the corner.

The innkeepers were considerate of your privacies, but that wasn’t how things worked around here.

“Well—” He strained, dragging his futon to yours. One corner even overlapped yours before he fixed it. He stood up, satisfied by his work. “Now we won’t have to worry about separation anxiety anymore.”

“We?” You raised your brows.

“Right, sorry. Just you.” He dropped onto his futon. He leaned back and rested on his palms, watching you do the same. Not a minute passed before he backpedaled on his joke. “Wanna share a futon?”

You shot him a heated look. When you realized he was being serious, you just shook your head.

“One is too small.”

“No it isn’t.” He got under the blanket and scooted to the side, patting a spot for you. “C’mon. Just try.”

“But it won’t be comfortable,” You frowned.

Regardless, you humored Alfred on his suggestion, getting under the covers with him. It should’ve been strange, sleeping so close without reservation. But this was just the norm now. Every past motel room had one bed so he could keep an eye on you.

What made this so different was the choice. He could sleep apart from you, and you him.

Yet, you both elected to be together.

“If you can’t sleep, I’ll just move to the other futon.”

“Fine.”

He laid on his side to face you.

“Dinner was great, by the way.”

“Yeah,” You softened your gaze on him. “I haven’t had something that good in ages. I’m stuffed.”

“I’m glad,” He smiled. A comfortable silence fell as you stared at each other, heads on one pillow. As he lay with you, relief overcame him until it became pure ecstasy. You were here, and you were safe.

But with that pleasure was pain all the same.

What happened to you was all his fault.

Alfred pulled you into a hug, his face warped with sadness. You hugged him right back. As he buried himself into the crooked of your neck, a shudder ran down your spine. You’d been in shock until now, and when you finally processed what you’d seen, tears streamed relentlessly down the side of your face.

He kissed your forehead tenderly, closing his eyes.

Alfred felt no remorse for killing them.

His only regret was that you saw him do it.

Holding your face with one hand, he consoled you until you drifted away beside him. Even then, he never stopped caressing your cheek, comforting you as you slept. And he kept at it until morning.

“We have to go to the dump,” Alfred murmured, stroking your back as you laid on him.

“Why don’t we go to a ripperdoc?” You rolled your head to him, tone unwilling. After a good night’s rest, you were well enough to hear of his plans, however headache-inducing they may be. “I’m not letting you put anything in your body otherwise.”

“I don’t have the money,” He sighed. Before you could say anything, he took the words out right of your mouth. “And using yours is out of the question. We just have to work with what we got, okay?”

Next chapter: Coming soon

Tag-list: @sunnysssol, @chicha027

[danwhobrowses]

My Highlights for AEW Wrestledream 2023

There was a dream, a dream of wrestling

And Antonio Inoki sought that dream when he founded NJPW

But now AEW has invited the dangling from its hinges Forbidden Door open again to celebrate Inoki on the anniversary of his death.

Let's see what was good about this show

Spoilers for the PPV

Zero Hour

"She's so sweet, but so dumb, god bless her" Richard of House Starks speaking of Lexy Nair, fiancée of one large William

Props for the Julia vignette, it aired on Collision and apparently someone on twitter helped film it so good for them

Stokely 'Urban Dictionary dot com' Hathaway

TK donning the Inoki scarf with Inoki's grandkids, Shibata and Rocky

Christian Cage Noooooo

Athena doing Billie's jump and Keith's Limitless pose, and then almost blindsided by Kojima XD

Meat chants always a win

Athena saved her minion!

Josh Barnett looks like a leaner Brock Lesnar don't he?

Moxley joining on commentary, showing he's well after the concussion too

I think that's an open invitation to Bloodsport for Claudio

Well, you can tell that Nick Wayne has trained with Darby, mans is bumping

Caster already going for the tentacle porn diss

Sounds like JR is open to scissoring

Main Card

MJF wearing as many belts as he has initials

Picking the right person to massage his shoulders

Alas no tag partner in the corner for Max

Dutch always has a great Bossman Slam

Some Guerrero tactics there, with some added pantomime by the audience

And he hits the bodyslam! The Seattle Stampede

MJF has put over a bodyslam, a double clothesline and a dropkick (Kangaroo Kick) which is proof that with enough charisma any move can be put over

Props to the dude in full Jeff Hardy cosplay

Shibata starting low like Inoki did vs Ali

Thesz drop early just like Inoki took it early vs him for his second ever NJPW match (first was vs Simon Gotch)

Uraken kicked out at 1!

Eddie again winning with the Powerbomb, he meant what he said to Kawada

Dang that crack as Statlander socked Julia

And Julia does have one hell of a moonsault

Brody having to carry his goth daughter back down the ramp

Reminder Julia Hart is 22 in November; younger than Hayes, Stratton, Dragunov, Dominik, Jade, Statlander, Anna, HOOK and more, she is a talent

Starting the 4 way with an International Title preview

and then OC tagging in??

Gunns doing the New Day 'both legal men' attempt

HOOK sold that superkick really well too

"It's always in their hometown huh?"

Nana gets his dance in

Serve remains that guy, so clean

Ooof, taking a trick out of Penta's book eh, Killshot?

Vicious discus lariat there from Hanger

The JML Driver is great too

Mox back on Commentary, he's one flirtation with Excalibur away from being Regal

Ricky's rope walk is just effortless

Ah poor Mox, he can't help but curse it's native to his vocabulary

Seahawks colours for Bryan

Moxley's passion for wrestling is shining through a lot in commentary, if he could control the cussing he could easily be an all timer play by play commentator

It also juxtaposes Nigel McGuinness' anti-Bryan vendetta

Bryan practically walked out of that Romero Special

Hitting the Itoh special with the rollover half crab

GOODNESS that Dragon Screw

I think his head was already fucking kicked in sheesh

That certainly was a technical masterclass, and it doesn't feel like we're done

I'm gonna say it too, give Bryan the IWGP World title. I mean it, he's beaten Okada and ZSJ, he could beat SANADA at like Sakura Genesis or New Year's Dash, have a little run with it, do the G1 and then drop it at Forbidden Door and then he's completed all his career goals

Mox's genuine surprise as he thought Demetrius Johnson was gonna wrestle Kenny Omega XD

I mean that Last Supper artwork is...definitely something

Geez starting with Omega/Ospreay?

People want Takeshita/Ibushi, that tells you how elevated Takeshita has been

Callis trying to contribute to increating the stretch

Ibushi now joining Suzuki in 'he does what he wants', joining the Sex Gods pose

'You still suck' chants because Sammy still pulled off a picture perfect Shooting Star Press

Jericho invoking Omega in the Not Even One kickout

Murder Ibushi activated!

That is the best Ibushi has looked in AEW so far, hopefully he gets 100% for Takeshita

Dang just let Dax and Davis slap each other for 10 minutes, Davis has wrestled WALTER I know he has it in him

I've seen enough, I don't just need 10 minutes I need a full tournament of big beefy men slapping man meat; Dax, Davis, Keith Lee, Shane Taylor, Wardlow, Luchasaurus, Butcher, Brody King, Joe, Hobbs, Miro, Brian Cage, Big Bill, etc. let them all fight, give us the whole Buffet

Darby and Christian have done so much work that'll go understated in restoring the TNT title, it's main eventing a PPV!

Also if anyone can will it into existence we need Christian to start calling himself the Turtle Neck Titan, you know because Turtlenecks but also TNT

Hoisted by his own petard, blinded by the turtle neck

I mean Nick Wayne's mom is hot you gotta shoot your shot

Well that is for sure a Darby Allin bump, right on the steps twice over

Frog Splash onto a stretcher!

And a Killswitch on the canvas boards!

Scorpion Death Drop and Coffin Drop on the boards only for two

Nick Wayne heel turn

You think you know him? Adam Copeland is All Elite! And he brought Metalingus with him

He was so excited he glided through the smoke!

Edge, Christian and Sting all in the same ring what year is it? what timeline is it? WHAT IS IT???

Conclusion

Well that was a lot of fun.

Compared to No Mercy it was perhaps marginally better for me, again this could be due to being more in the loop with the storylines but stuff like the trios match, the main event, Swerve vs Hangman, the ultimate tekkers match it just clicked. Not a bad match on the card too, though I was rooting for Aussie Open to win, but Bucks/FTR IV will still be great. Plus I still wanted to see Statlander body slam Brody.

I do hope Fénix is okay, he disappeared from the 4-Way and he's the International champion, don't want back to back injury-induced title changes after all. But it was good to see Moxley just out there enjoying himself on the side, probably won't ever get to do it again mind you given all the cussing but still, did elevate the matches.

We've got intriguing directions too; Swerve needs to get somewhere with that W over Hangman (world title? I mean I kinda like Jay White for it, International Title? Maybe too soon), Claudio and Bryan have extended rematch invitations and you know Ricky ain't done with the BCC (still though I wouldn't put him in the BCC, Garcia should have that spot), even the Zero Hour did some development with Billie and Athena's dynamic.

So yeah, probably not better than All In and All Out but still pretty damn good, Inoki would be proud.

Match of the Night: I mean it's the Ultimate Battle of Epic Tekkers right? Hard to really say any match was better than that wrestling-wise. The Main Event is a close second with the drama. Best Entrance: Julia Hart gets this one just ahead of Adam Copeland's worst kept secret, not many flashy entrances in this show, in fact I think OC/Hook and Jericho didn't even get entrances. Best Attire: Again, not many here, most of them were kinda subtle so I'm gonna give it to Swerve so I can give him props somewhere. Best Performance: Tie for Bryan and Zack, masters of their craft, not much else you can say. Spot of the Night: Because Christian dropping Darby on the steps was messy and scrappy, it's Bryan's Dragon Screw that just looked so vicious like I'm sure I saw his foot facing another direction.

[writingaustin]

Going through and reposting old stories I wrote for Reddit. This one's called Puzzled Reaper. Guess the story prompt.

“Wait, I died? How?”

“Listen guy, I’m just as baffled by this as you are.”

“So you don’t know how I died? But aren’t you the Grim Reaper?” I heaved a weary sigh. This was my first ever client, and it was already going poorly. I held back the urge to curl up in a ball and start crying. That probably wouldn’t be very respectful of me, seeing as I was standing over this man’s corpse.

I shouldn’t have taken this job from the temp agency. The pay was too good, but I thought that was just because I would be on call 24/7. I sure as hell should’ve said no when they sent me this scythe in the mail.

“No, I’m the Puzzled Reaper.”

“What?”

“Exactly.”

“Is this some sort of joke?”

“Oh god, I wish.”

“…” The man (or the soul, I guess?) bent over and covered his face, making a sort of sound that reminded me of a dying animal. I gently patted him on the back.

“No, it’s okay. Dying’s not so bad, bud. There’s no reason to get frustrated about it.”

“I’m mad at you! Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with this?! Explaining that I died, where I go from here…” He slapped my hand away, rearing on me with a red face. It soon paled, however, as his own words hit him. Now he was looking as lifeless as his corpse.

That sounds kind of redundant. He is a corpse. A soul? Some sort of…ethereal ghost-creature? A jerk who yells at hardworking customer service agents?

“Where will I go…?”

“Probably Hell for yelling at me on my first day.”

“What?!”

“No, look, I don’t actually know. I just take the souls to the place where they are…uh…” I paused and fumbled in my dark-as-night robes. Didn’t they give me a manual? I winced as my scythe fell away from me as I looked for that little booklet, clanging pitifully on the ground.

Look, everyone has a rough first day. Just keep it cool, and you got this. I took a deep breath to steady myself, repeating the mantra my yoga teacher taught me.

“You are one with the universe…loved by the universe…”

“You really have no clue, do you?” “No, of course I do. Look, it’s all in this manual here.” I flourished the tiny little pamphlet that had been sent with my work clothes and scythe. The title, in easy to read bold lettering, said, ‘So You Want to Reap Souls.’ The title was incorrect, as I didn’t actually want to, but a job was a job.

“Did you not receive any training?”

“I received a manual?”

“Ugggggggggh.”

“Let’s see…ah, yes. The Puzzled Reaper. See? That’s me.”

“What. Does. It. Say.”

“Hey, relax. You gotta take life slowly sometimes…oops. Sorry.”

“WHAT. DOES. IT. SAY.”

“Sheesh. Alright, ‘The Puzzled Reaper is the reaper that takes care of souls that perished in mysterious circumstances. It is the job of the Puzzled Reaper to illuminate…’, wow, this sounds kind of pompous.”

“Keep. Reading.”

“Alright, alright. ‘To illuminate the soul as to the cause of their death so that they may pass on safely to the underworld. Only by understanding how and why they died can a human’s spirit find solace and move on. Failure to do so will result in…’”

“In…?”

“’In the human soul turning into a revenant that will forever haunt the earth.’”

“So, if I’m to understand…”

“We need to figure out how you died so you can pass on safely to Hell.”

“I’m screwed.”

“Hey, bud, we got this. I may be new to the job, but I love detective stories. That’s just what this is, right? We’re like detectives! Well, I’m the detective. You’re my Watson!”

“I’m completely and utterly screwed.”

“Let’s examine the crime scene, Watson!” I kneeled down and began to examine the body for clues.

“Undeniably, irrevocably, doubtlessly screwed.”

~-~

“Using my extensive experience of the past twenty minutes as both a detective and a ferryman of souls, I deduce this man with an incurable case of no longer breathing.” I knelt before the corpse, gingerly jabbing at it with the non-pokey end of my scythe.

The man himself (that is, his soul) was now quietly sobbing in a corner of his office, face completely pressed against the wall as I made my expert diagnosis.

“Now, what sort of assistant are you? Shouldn’t you be taking notes, or making snarky remarks?”

“Just leave…”

“That’s no way to treat a friend.”

“I don’t even know who you are…” He glanced back at me, his eyes suspiciously dry.

“Oh, actually, I suppose it’s not like you can actually cry. I mean, you don’t even have a body anymore. Physically, that is.” He turned back and started to sob again.

“Jeez, come on. Alright, look. What’s your name?” If a look could kill, I would need a Grim Reaper. But I suppose him glaring at me was preferable to the fake crying.

“Tell me, what’s your name?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan, alright, like Swift.”

“It’s Herrick, actually.” That’s some progress. Jonathan Herrick, my aspiring assistant detective and present corpse on the ground.

“Alright, Jonathan Herrick. You can call me Reaper, or detective.”

“You aren’t a detective!”

“Ye of little faith.” I stood up, taking a seat atop the oak desk in the middle of the room as I reached to grab the now cold mug of coffee beside me.

We were in Herrick’s (former) home office and current tomb, his lifeless body collapsed beside an old leather chair behind me. The only light in the room came from a laptop still running beside me on the desk, its harsh and electronic radiance providing no favors for Herrick’s (his body’s) appearance. Though it should be midday outside, the curtains were tightly drawn. Herrick’s soul was now pacing in front of me, with an expression that couldn’t seem to decide between homicidal rage and self-pity.

“I’ve already deduced that you were murdered using some sort of poison.”

“What?” Oh, self-pity it is then.

“Hmhm, yes, what sort of genius was lurking underneath this cloak indeed, dear Herrick.” I sniffed, pretending to hold a pipe. My dream of being a veritable Holmes elucidating the secrets of the world for my own dear Watson was already coming true.

“No, what do you mean by murdered?”

“By poison?”

“Who?”

“You?”

“What? Why would you think I was murdered?”

“Because I’m here.”

“But you’re just here to figure out how I died…”

“Remember what I said earlier about dying in mysterious circumstances? Well, it seems obvious that I was sent here because that happened to you. You were murdered, and now we need to find out who killed you so you can find peace in Hell.” Hahah! We’ll catch this criminal in time for dinner at this rate.

Herrick’s eyes went blank as I graciously waited for him to agree on how clever I was. Forget rage or self-pity, he looked like someone grasping the truly inconsequential nature of humanity in the grand scale of the infinity that was time. Or, I don’t know, a comparison for suitable for normal humans…he looked like a man who had looked up one day to find that the sky was pink, despite it being blue all his life before that moment.

Cut me some slack, I don’t know what normal human things are, I’m an embodiment of death for goodness sake.

Anyway.

We stayed like that for a few minutes; I sitting on his (former) desk, and him standing there in front of the door, staring at some point beyond this world. But slowly, and surely, I could see the gears turning in his mind. The confusing slowly giving way under the power of anger and indignation as ‘Why was I murdered?’ slowly turned into ‘Who was the bastard that did this?’

“And why do you think it was poison?”

“Well, there’s no actual damage to your body. I mean, let’s be honest, you’ve got on a bit of that winter weight, clearly took your fair share of Santa’s cookies during the holidays. But, the fact I’m here seems to suggest that we can rule out natural causes like a heart-attack.”

“Hey…that’s true, but hurtful.”

“Yet, there doesn’t seem to be a single mark on your corpse. No wounds of any sort.”

“So…it can’t be natural causes, yet it doesn’t seem like I was attacked. So the way I died…”

“Must’ve been something you drank.” I took a big swig of the cold coffee.

“Hey, wait-!” He held up a hand to stop me, but I was already finishing off the dregs at the bottom of the mug.

[contradictiio-archived]

“ he told me i was an obligation ” (to maya. Fran talking about manfred?)

Poetry prompts

“What a jerk! How can he say that to his own daughter?!” Maya hissed as she clenched her fists. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was glad he was gone forever. That way, Franziska won’t have to suffer anymore. 

“Well, now that he’s gone, there’s no use dwelling on the past. Don’t let it get to you, Franziska. You’re not an obligation, I promise! You’re a prodigy who locks up criminals! Though... you’re not hung up on that ‘perfection’ thing now, are you? It’s been almost eight years since then.”

[tender-rosiey]

Can I request baking headcanons with Nanami, Gojo, Itadori, and Megumi?

❥ Baking with JJK characters

Includes Gojo, Nanami; Itadori, and Megumi

ᴀ/ɴ: ily and this request is amazing also no proofreading cause it’s 2am 👩‍🦲

GOJO SATORU:

Mistake of your life time like don’t be fooled by how cool he is in the gif

I am serious

One of the laws of the universe is to not let this man near the kitchen and I don’t care if he says he is the best at everything he tries

SO NOW TO HOW THIS PREDICAMENT HAPPENED

Gojo wanted to try something domestic with you considering he doesn’t have the chance to spend a lot of time with you

Hence why he is gonna make the best out of his free time

So what’s better than baking? Baking with your lover who you adore so much

Man only cared about the lover part really, he was planning on letting you do all the work while he just annoys you like the menace he is

But guess what?

He is baking because he got challenged and “the great gojo never backs down from a challenge”

Famous last words HAHA

Okay now let’s get a bit fluffy

He actually tries, surprisingly and it’s pretty cute ignoring the crazy amount of sugar he puts, I am surprised he didn’t get diabetes or cavities my god

He plays around a lot though like finish the freaking cake then get the other type cake sheesh

Is the type of guy to put whipped cream on your nose and your cheeks then kisses them off

But then, he gets bored

God knows why

But the problem isn’t the boredom, the problem how he solves said boredom

𝐒𝐢𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Well guess what

It wasn’t

Food fights never end well, there has to be a lost soul in the process 😔✊

But he starts it anyways because screw everyone

It ends up very fun though

“TURN YOUR INFINITY OFF YOU COWARD!” “HAHAHA NO!”

Smack him— or at least try to

He deserves it

T r u s t M e

Helps you in cleaning but only after you give him lots of affection and losing a bet because nothing is for free

Thanks for the reality check gojo

8/10-ing his toothbrush looking self

NANAMI KENTO:

Nanami is quite the organized man, and as we can see in most of his actions: said organization applies to all things he does to the best of his ability

So the recipe is to be followed step by step, no more no less

But he won’t mind adding a little more sugar or decreasing it a bit if you like it either way

To put it simply, baking with nanami is domestic love and acts at its best

I feel like he would be the one to just gently press a kiss to the side of your head when he walks by you in the kitchen

He also doesn’t reprimand you whenever you make a mistake or mess something up, instead opting for a more favorable way to deal with such mistakes

If you broke the egg, getting its shell in the dough, he would just take it from your hand politely and tell you “How about you go cut the fruit instead?”

And if you injure yourself then you won’t continue the baking, sorry but he is trying to spend time with you without having to worry about you

Injuring yourself with a knife DOESNT fall under the “no need to worry” category

PRO TIP: Make him read the recipe out loud

It would be like an audio book and a very good one at that

And if you fall asleep with him around then…you lucky bi—

10/10 would do again

ITADORI YŪJI:

We have gotten the understanding that yuji can cook if not fully then to a respectable extent

So I will be freely abusing this here

Consequently, baking with him is not peaceful nor chaotic, rather soft chaotic

Soft chaotic such as imitating conversations and throwing little comments here or there to fill up the silence when needed

“Y/N, what do you call a pig that does karate?”

“What do you call it, yūji?”

“pfft— wait give me a moment… it’s a PORK CHOP BWAHAHAHAA!”

“Get out, your speaking privileges have been provoked.”

In general, he is really fun to be around; messing up anything is just another reason for a shared laugh

Also, I am pretty convinced he would record you guys baking to save it as a memory and acts like it’s a cooking/baking show

“Today’s chef is y/n!”

“Your mom’s gay.”

“what.”

“what?”

A LOT OF VERY VERY ADDICTING AFFECTION

b👏a 👏c 👏k👏 👏h 👏u 👏g 👏s👏

And tickling your neck with his nose

He is so fluffy I am gonna die

9/10 mwuah mwuah stan yūji

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

Very quiet and occasional small conversations here and there

I don’t see him choosing to cook unless you beg or ask him to and for like a really long time

To the point he feels like it’s a necessity so he agrees and here we are 🎉 hooray toot toot

The kitchen is generally filled with a comforting silence, save for the sound of the utensils and dough being beaten

He would also randomly start small conversations

“Y/N.”

“Yes, ‘gumi?”

“Thank you.”

“Huh? For what exactly?”

Crap ton of appreciation from both sides to both sides and woe is me the lady who’s alone

Aside from these conversations, it’s generally quiet as we have mentioned but the one you need fell

INTRODUCING GOJO PLAN OF REASON 202:

meet the megumi -> mess with the megumi -> observe the reactions of the megumi -> proceed to step five you are his lover -> miss with his ass sweetheart

Like we said, mess with him and put a bit of whip cream on his cheek or eyebrows

“You kind of look like gojo-sensei.”

“I am absolutely dont.”

Overall very nice and comfy and entertaining and chef’s kiss

9.5/10 😌✨

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-2 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @fiona782

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or your guardian will be my spouse

[outlustings]

pspspsps may I manifest from you some Miles getting topped by a short, a lil bit sassy but kinda shy AFAB s/o,,, so yeah, tease this man, sit on his dick and edge him, maybe😩

I need Jesus

(oh my god i got WAY too carried away with writing this i need father martin to submerge me in holy water after this... sheesh...

warningz for very graphic stuff, slight name calling, playful sex, hand kink (how'd that get in there??????) and uhhh squirting and uhhhhhh general explicit smuttiness. ABSOLUTE FILTH ACTUALLY DO NOT READ. i'm so sorry for writing this i feel so nasty ajdjsj.)

×

You sat on his lap, bare, slick core against his hardening flesh as you splayed your palms against his pecs, rubbing the skin tenderly with your thumbs as you ground your hips against his.

Miles grunted, his hands gripping the sheets, knuckles white as he watched you grind against him, eyebrows knitted as he tried to stifle his moans. You felt the twitch of his cock against your sensitive flesh and hummed in appreciation as Miles let out a shaky breath and a string of curses as the tip of his cock brushed against your rapidly slickening entrance.

"You're so hot," Miles threw his head back on the pillows, smiling as he bucked his hips up against yours, "You're so fucking hot, babe."

You smirked and slid your cunt against him, dragging your hips across him so that your mound rested on the bottom of his shaft, right above his twitching balls.

"That's it," Miles licked his lips, "Grind on it. Slide it in. God, I wanna-..."

You stopped moving your hips, straightened your back and crossed your arms. Miles whined.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I thought I was supposed to be in charge here," you said coolly but couldn't ignore the little jolts thrumming through your clit at his movements.

He raised his hands level to his chest.

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't help it," he grinned apologetically. You rolled your eyes, "Fuck me up, babe, I'm all yours," he said softly. You sighed. He was irresistible. Irresistible and annoyingly good at making you blush.

Grinding your lips against the hot and heavy hardness of his cock resting against his abdomen, you heard and felt the slick sounds cut through the air. Miles moaned, throwing his head back when your clit slid against his sensitive frenulum, his eyes screwed shut as he bucked his hips up into you.

"Fuck," he breathed out.

You giggled.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" you bit your lip and moved your hips in slow, deliberate thrusts against his cock, rubbing the throbbing underside with the slickness of your cunt.

Miles shook his head, swallowing thickly and you felt his erection twitch desperately against your core. He was already close.

"I didn't hear you," you frowned and raised your eyebrows playfully, bending down and grabbing his jaw in your hand, thumbling at his bottom lip as he gasped. You shifted your weight off his hips as he opened his mouth.

"N-no," Miles stuttered, breathing heavily against your finger as you felt him roll his hips underneath you, trying to touch you, "Please, keep going, please."

You clicked your tongue, eyeing his blushed, sweaty face and parted lips. You couldn't help but grin.

"So pathetic," you placed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, sliding your fingers on his abs, nearing his leaking cock, "I bet you'd cum without me even touching you. Dirty boy."

Miles let out a throaty whine as you slid your fingers from his lips, down his chest, to his navel then down his happy trail, nearing the base of his cock, making sure not to touch the shaft. You were being torturously slow. On purpose.

"Please, let me fuck you," he panted, lifting his hips up ever so slightly off the mattress.

"I don't think I will," you purred, then giggled at the desperate moan that spilled from his lips as you reached the aching, swollen tip of his cock, sliding your index finger against the slit, feeling his thick precum coat your finger, "Not yet."

Miles grumbled underneath you as you straightened your back and brought the glistening finger to your lips, and making eye contact, you lewdly flicked your tongue against the pad of your finger, humming as you tasted the saltiness of his arousal.

"Tasty," you winked.

Something in Miles' eyes shifted. An edgy glint appeared in them as he chewed on his bottom lip, echaling heavily as he watched your finger disappear inside your mouth as you rubbed it against your tongue, looking down at him, wondering if he was going to snap hard enough to abandon this little game. He twitched underneath you.

"Slut," he grunted.

Your brows furrowed.

"Tsk," you tutted and licked a stripe on your palm then wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. Miles moaned again, very loudly, "Behave," you warned him, "Or you won't get to cum inside me."

You looked down at his throbbing erection in your hand, your slim fingers just about reaching around the girthy shaft completely. He was so thick, his bulging veins perfectly placed for your pleasure. He always stretched you so good. Fucked your small body so thoroughly. You felt the coil inside your lower belly tighten as you felt the pulsing flesh in your hand and imagined it inside you. You sighed.

"You want this cock inside you, huh?" you heard Miles grunt from underneath you. It's as if he read your thoughts. You could hear the smug grin in his voice. You flicked your eyes to his.

"Another word out of you and I'll sit my pretty ass on your face to shut you up, you dick," you hissed, your eyes widening as Miles half-laughed, half-groaned.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," he gasped as you started slowly stroking him.

"What do I have to do to shut you up?" you groaned partly out of frustration but partly out of lust as he bit his swollen lip, a little jet of precum splashing onto his stomach. He was liking this. So were you. But you hadn't won yet.

"Please," Miles sighed, "I'll shut - fuck -..." you had bent the tip of his dick towards your folds, rubbing it against your clit, "I-I'll shut up if you... If you put it in. I swear."

He was almost pitiful like this. Fingers tangled in the sheets, eyes fixed on the soft patch of hair between your thighs as you teased the head with long, slow strokes and a little bit of pressure of the slit rubbing against your throbbing pink pearl. You hummed teasingly.

"Maybe you'll cum from this."

"No, just..." Miles tried to compose himself, "Please, let me fuck your pussy, please baby, please..."

He clenched his teeth together as you slid the bulbous head against your entrance, moaning quietly.

"Just the tip," you winked and pushed your hips down an inch or so, enveloping the throbbing glans with your gummy, clenching walls.

Miles groaned loudly, his hands shooting from the bedsheets to your hips but you swatted his wrist pretty forcefully.

"Hands off," you grinned at him, gripping his wrists and pushing them to his sides as you struggled to keep your hips from sinking down further on his cock. The stretch was already burning deliciously, your core melting around him as little squelches were emitted from where your sexes adjoined as you thrust your hips up and down very shallowly.

"You're gonna fucking kill me," Miles muttered, his eyebrows knitted together, his jaw squared as his abs tightened. He tried to keep still. For your sake.

"Good job," you smirked, squatting awkwardly above him, rolling your hips, feeling his cock pulse in a dull rhythm against your flesh, "Don't move, that's it."

You licked your dry lips and lifted your hips off of him completely, his cock leaving you with a soft, wet pop. He moaned.

"In, please, back in-..."

Before he could finish his jumbled mess of a sentence, you had guided him back into you and you sank down fully, burying him to the hilt, then, after savouring his breathy moan for a second, lifted your hips up so that again only the very tip rested inside you. Miles slapped the mattress underneath him with an open palm, a throaty moan escaping him as you giggled.

"Fu-uck," Miles whined and you swore you could see tears in his eyes.

"Too much?" you stroked his chest, your thighs trembling with the effort of staying up as you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"No!" Miles grunted.

You bent down to kiss his forehead and rolled your hips back and forth, shallowly rubbing your walls against the very head of his cock as he moaned underneath you. You felt his entire length twitch underneath you as you bit your lip, feeling his tip grind against a fluttering little spot inside your spongy walls which sent tremors to your aching clit. You sighed, sliding your fingers to his shoulder and down his arm to his wrist, snatching it in your hand and bringing his closed fist to your lips  kissing the knuckles gently as you fucked yourself on his cock so gently that you were sure he was going to die from frustration. Yet, a vigorous pulse thrummed against your lips as you slid his hand against your mouth, dipping your tongue into the soft pit of his palm, nipping so tenderly at the flesh. Miles panted underneath you and you heard him curse. You stilled your hips, pressing his hand against your cheek and smiling.

"You're not allowed to cum yet," you cocked your head, nuzzling your cheek against his open palm as he looked up at you, moaning so softly and pitifully that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Please?" Miles whispered, his hips shaking as he tried to keep them from thrusting up into you.

"No. Patience," you sighed, kissing his palm.

You looked down at him through long lashes, moving your hips so that his cock slid out again and bobbed against his abdomen, the tip slick and glistening with the viscous creaminess of your arousal.

"Lool at what you've done to me," you sighed, pressing his index finger between your parted lips, rubbing the softness of his skin against your glossy front teeth, "I'm so wet for you Miles. You're doing so good for me."

His cock twitched lazily at the mention of his name and he groaned. You pushed two of his fingers inside your mouth, pressing your tongue against the pads and lolling it around the tip, coating him in your spittle. You sucked. Hard. Miles hissed through his teeth, his eyes following the curve of your hollowed cheeks as you licked his fingers and popped them out of your mouth, examining how wet they were. Then you slid them down below your tummy and onto your clit, the cooling saliva burning you deliciously and you sighed, bucking your hips into his fingers.

"Feel my cunt, Miles," you grinned, "Touch. It."

Miles was speechless. Stunned. Wide-eyed, he rubbed his fingers against your clit and you threw your head back in a silent moan as he slid his middle and index fingers down to your entrance where you hovered over him and thumbed at your clit in slow circles.

"That's it," you gasped, "Make me cum and I'll let you fuck me."

Miles exhaled deeply, gripping your hip with his other hand as he fucked you with his fingers, rolling them against your pulsing, velvet flesh, rubbing circles on what felt like raw nerve endings after all that teasing, and you sighed and bucked and moaned at his touch, rutting against his hand as two fingers curled inside you, rubbing you. You mumbled quiet praises.

"Good fucking job, there you go," you felt his fingers curl at your g-spot as his thumb flicked slightly faster over your clit, your wetness loud against his firm movements, "That's it. Right there. Oh," your eyes rolled back as he fingered you with expert hands. And finally, he had shut up, his face twisted in concentration as he panted underneath you. You felt your pelvic floor burn and your legs started to feel numb as you approached your orgasm, grinding down on Miles' palm.

"Wait," you hissed, eyes closed and you felt his fingers stop.

"What?"

"Let me just..." you reached for his wrist, gesturing for him to pull out from inside you, "Will you be a good boy and let me fuck myself on your cock?"

Miles moaned, low. It almost sounded like a growl. He nodded.

"Yes, please."

You grabbed him by the base and adjusted your weight on top of him and sank down, not fully yet, and guided his hand to your clit again.

"Now," you grinned, "Make me cum."

Miles' hand was a blur on your throbbing prepuce as your slickness coated his fingers, dripping down the back of his hand and onto his stomach as he rubbed against you, his cock hitting your insides so well as you ground yourself on him, little shallow movements against his cock, just like that, and his large fingers on you, stroking your clit in deliberate, smooth, wet circles as he rolled his hips against yours, his cock not all the way in, and you lost yourself in the wet noise and white hot pleasure and - oh.

You came with a whine, gripping Miles' wrist, your hips slamming down on his cock, burying him to the hilt as your walls clenched against him as he filled you completely and the both of you whined as Miles finally thrusted his hips up and bounced you on his lap, fucking you through your orgasm with his thick cock as you squealed and giggled and shook in his grip. He jackhammered into you, knees bent to support his lower body. Your mind felt so fuzzy you forgot to keep up your façade of control. You were lost in the fluttering feeling inside you as Miles fucked you from below, gripping your shaking hips with bruising force as the tip of his cock pounded against the sodt flesh of your insides and you felt an immense pressure in your abdomen, the kind you'd never felt before as another orgasm was about to hit you like a freight train - you saw the lights but didn't move off the tracks.

"I'm gonna -..." you gasped out, slumping against Miles' chest and he caught you with his arms, wrapping them around your waist as he pounded into you, growling in your ear as you screeched and came again, a wave of fluid crashing over Miles' pelvis.

"Fuck, fuck!" his voice was breathy, loud against your skin as he yelled into the tender flesh of your shoulder, moaning as you kept cumming on him, seeing stars and gushing on his cock, "Fuck, babe, I'm gonna cum inside you, fuck."

You nodded and moaned desperately as your cunt felt numb and slippery and electrified as Miles fucked you through another set of aftershocks as you milked his cock.

"Yeah, cum inside me," you registered yourself whisper to his ear, over the snapping noise of soaked skin against soaked skin as you felt warmth engulf you.

A string of curses, each one punctuated with a deep thrust against your cervix, then a loud, drawn-out groan against your skin as Miles came deep inside you, his jaw hanging open in a silent moan as you felt your cunt milk him. Everything feels so wet and gooey, you thought amidst the fog in your brain, laughing weakly against Miles' hair as you laid on him, heaving chest pressed against his neck as he stilled inside you, his thrusts dying out. For a second or two, he tries to catch his breath, then he pulled out with a wet pop and you felt heavy, warm cum leak out from between your folds onto his balls. You looked over your shoulder, lifting your hips up slightly and squeaked at the sight of your combined pearlescent fluids drip slowly out of you and onto his softening cock.

"Fuck."

Miles gripped your waist and gently pushed you off of him to your side and you scooted into him as the both of you tried to understand what the fuck just happened.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, blushing tiredly at the puddle in the sheets and the considerable amount of fluid on Miles' loins. He chuckled.

"That was so hot," he sighed, turning his head to you and kissing you lazily on your cheek as you nuzzled into him, "We should do that again."

You groaned.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk," you grunted as you shifted your body. Your legs felt like jelly.

Miles laughed.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

You shook your head, stroking his cheek and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"We need to change the sheets," you sighed absentmindedly as Miles turned to his side, facing you and pulling you close to his chest. You felt some of his cum leak out of you as you moved your hips.

"Oh yeah," Miles mumbled against your hair, "We made a mess."

He was quiet for a while.

"Can't believe you had that in you."

"What?" you cocked your head up and pouted at him, "You thought I didn't have it in me to fuck you good?"

Miles laughed.

"No, it's just that - you're so shy and -..."

You swung your leg over his hip and rolled him around on his back, with great effort in a clumsy wrestling move, straddling his stomach as you pressed his shoulders down into the pillows.

"Bet?" you giggled as Miles writhed underneath you, "I might make good of that promise to sit on your face if you keep on talking."

Miles stilled, gripping your wrists, cocking his eyebrow.

"Oh really now?" he grinned.

[darkscrossfire]

Whisper of an angel

♰ Part Three ♰

Pairing: Darkiplier x Female Reader

Summary: Every single night for as long as you can remember, you’ve slept undisturbed. You’ve dreamt dreams that were anything but out of the ordinary, until one night, a strange shadowed figure starts to visit you in your dreams. You doubt that he’s real, but as time progressed, it becomes hard to deny that this obsessive man is anything but a figure in your dreams.

Warning: None for this chapter

Note: Hey everyone! I’ve created a playlist for this series which you can find in the series masterlist on my page. If you’d like to suggest songs, please go ahead! Also this is not the final chapter!

Someone’s watching me.

He’s watching me.

I still don’t know his name, but he’s been the only thing that’s on my mind since I woke up this morning. The moment I awoke, I found myself immediately sitting up, wide awake as if I had never fallen sleep in the first place. I could not help but stare at my wall across the room, my heart still pounding in my chest.

It still doesn’t make sense how someone from my dreams could be watching me. He’s a creation of my own imagination. Have I really come to the point of hallucinating voices in my waking life of a man who doesn’t even exist, made solely of my own internally wants?

Sheesh.

I really need to get laid.

I found it ridiculous and terribly unfortunate that the first man to give me real butterflies came from a dream. My brain must have decided that no one in the real world was good enough for me and decided to create this imaginary aberration covered gentleman with looks that most would find a little unnerving but I find myself drawn to. Am I losing my sanity? I knew this day would come.

Since he’s my imagination, I need to think of a name for him. Something that really suits that mysterious exterior he seems to portray. Something that will really give off that haunting yet so incredibly attractive display he has. Something like..

Mark.

Nah.

How about David?

Nope.

Michael?

Not at all.

Carl?

Hell no.

I can’t seem to think of-

“Dude, you’re like totally drifting off again.”

I’ll come back to that thought later.

I turned to look towards Marcy, where she was seated on the other end of the couch inside of her apartment, where we were. She was leaned against her arm, one of her eyebrows raised in a mix of annoyance and confusion. I realized now that she had been saying something to me, but I had been in my own little world, trying to think of a name for the mystery man in my head.

I raised my eyebrows in puzzlement. “Oh- what? Sorry, yeah. What were you saying?”

She chortled and shook her head. “I don’t even care about that anymore. I just wanna know what you were thinking about.”

Ah shit, how am I supposed to explain this to her without sounding like i’m losing my marbles?

Hey Marcy, oh you know, just thinking about this guy that was from my super real dream last night that left a really bad imprint on me so now I keep thinking about this imaginary guy from my dreams like a love struck twelve year old girl who just discovered that boy bands exist. I’m also trying to think of a name for him so that I can think about him all the time even though he doesn’t exist and I think a screw just fell out my brain.

“Nothing.” I spoke, shrugging.

She scoffed. “Oh really? I was speaking to you like full on and you were just staring at the wall with this little twinkle in your eye. What? Did you meet a someone? Was it a guy?” She smirked.

I shrugged again, “Something like that.”

Her face fell. She seemed shocked that I had actually found someone that I seemed to like. The way she quickly sat up straight and faced me head on made it seem like it was some kind of historical event. I didn’t think it was such a big deal until I realized that I had basically rejected every single guy i’d been on a date with until now, always finding something that put me off with them. To Marcy, it was like the tides were turning.

“No ways. You’re bein’ serious right now? Is he cute? Was he nice? Please say he didn’t smell bad or say you looked like his mom or something like that.” She queried.

I chuckled. “No, no. He’s not like that, not that I know of. I don’t really know him well enough.”

“Ohh, so you just sorta met him but he was like super intriguing?” She asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

She smiled. “Did you guys meet at the store or something? Did you touch the same melon and you made awkwardly cute little eye contact before offering to let the other take it but it ended up making an awkward but adorable chain of ‘No, it’s okay, you can take it’s to which one of you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself and then said you’d see each other around whilst secretly really hoping that you will?”

She’s seen way too many romance movies.

I hesitated. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

She raised a teasing brow. “Was he the man of your dreams?”

“Uh, yeah.” Cough.

She grinned. “You have to find him again, then you have to tell me all about him.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I will. I’m not sure if i’ll see him again though. I think it was a one time thing.” I frowned.

Marcys expression mirrored mine. “It’s always the good ones.”

For the rest of the time that we hung out, I found myself simultaneously watching a movie and listening out for that little voice that called out to me yesterday. I wanted so badly to hear him again. This stranger with a voice of silk. I found it quite pitying that I found myself so enamored with a man who didn’t even exist. This was the least bored I had been in a very long time, so might as well play around with this.

I felt bad for somewhat lying to Marcy. If I told her how we’d actually met, she’d probably tell me to see a therapist.

After I left Marcys house, I decided to walk home. That’s how I heard him the first time. If I do what I did the first time, hopefully he’ll show again. It seems strange that the first time I heard him, I was terrified. I ran all the way come cause I thought someone was going to hurt me, but now I find myself searching for this voice, trying to find it instead of running away from it.

I stepped through the damp aired street, my eyes darting around as if trying to see if I’d spot him in the real world. All I could see were the usual strangers standing about, some talking amongst each other, some standing alone, some walking. I frowned, not catching sight of the stranger from my dream. I realized it was ridiculous to think I would see him here. He’s not real.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. How pathetic was this? Yearning for a man who I created out of my own self deprivation of love. I’ve heard people say that you’ll do crazy things for love, but I didn’t think that hallucinations would be one of them. This was probably a sign from the universe to stop being so goddamn picky and just choose someone already. I mean looking like someone’s mother couldn’t be the worst thing?

I stopped my frantic searching and decided to continue my path home just staring toward, ignoring the possibility that I thought he might be out on my path. I brushed away my foolish thoughts, though there was a pained ache in my chest. It really felt as though I was losing my sanity. Does loneliness bring everyone to this?

I arrived to my front door, pulling out my key and placing it in the keyhole, twisting it with a click. As I placed my hand on my doors handle, I heard the whisper of a voice brush past me and a chill surge through my body. I turned my head around quickly, trying to see if was him. The hopeful pull in my stomach made me snap out of my thoughts. I’m being stupid again, it’s just the wind. Just stop.

I entered my house and closed the door, locking it. I threw my keys onto the table and smiled at the sight of Foxy jumping onto the counter, his dark fur brushing up against my arm. I reached over and ran my fingers over his back, letting him do his little shiver as I trailed over his spine. I gave him a small smile, tilting my head to the side.

“Hey, fox.” I said quietly.

He purred.

I sighed quietly, stepping away to move over to my living room. The house was dark and quiet. I frowned, scanning the my dreary apartment which seemed to match my mood. I wished I would hear one little whisper, but nothing. There was just the sound of the city from outside, filling the empty noise in the apartment.

I sat down on my couch, placing my knees on my elbows as I stared out towards the city. I let my arms slide over my legs as I leaned back and let myself rest against the back of the couch. My feet were tucked under the small brown coffee table before me, where I could see Foxy slither and pounce onto it, circling around for a moment before taking a seat.

I looked over at him as he stared at me with his big dark eyes. His little paws were placed before him and I couldn’t help but wish I could be in his place. I doubt he’s ever dreamt of a mystery man who happens to be the best guy he’s ever met even though he might not be all that great due to unending loneliness that purges his existence and makes life a bit more exhausting.

“Am I losing my mind?” I asked him.

He just stared.

I let my head rest against the couch again. “If you could talk, you’d probably have said yes. I wouldn’t judge you. I probably am.” I raised a brow in thought. “It’s ridiculous isn’t it? Finding the first guy I actually like and he doesn’t even exist. It has to be some kind of a sick joke from the universe. It’s like they’re dangling him in front of my face going ‘Uh uh, you can look but you can’t have.’ Like it’s amusing or something.”

I looked through my windows to the the rest of the buildings, some of the windows were illuminated by light within the room they held and some were dark, just like mine. I wondered how many of the occupants in those rooms had found their true partners, someone they can truly love and cherish who also loves them the same. I wondered how many of them were in love right now with someone they couldn’t have.

I looked over at Foxy. “I really wish you could talk. I really need some advice right now. Would it be wrong to settle for less? Maybe it’ll cure my insanity.”

I stood up from the couch, moving over to the cupboard to pull out a nearly empty bag of cat food, which I opened and used to fill Foxy’s food bowl, before tossing away the bag. I refilled his water bowl, being careful not to spill it. I watched as he trotted over and began eating from the bowl, his little mouth munching at the different colored brown bits like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

I chortled. “I wish I could eat like that and not have to worry about how I look.”

My eyes felt heavy, the day beginning to really catch up to me. I let out a yawn and turned away from Foxy, heading to my bedroom where I changed into my sleep wear and tucked myself into bed. Letting my eyes linger outside the window into the night sky for a moment before I let them close and let my head come to a rest.

I found myself internally wishing that I would fall asleep and wake up in the void again. That I would fall into my own little dream land with this mysterious man who seemed to plague my thoughts. I found myself trying to make myself purposefully dream of it, imagining what I had seen the last time.

I imagined the way it felt when I woke up, the way it felt like that first cold breeze came over me, the way it felt when he provided me with that warmth that made my chest tingle. The way I felt when I first saw him, how his appearance made me stare in intrigue. The way it felt he brushed his fingers through my hair.

I wanted it all again.

I wanted to see him again.

The night was quiet, there were no whispers of my name or of anything. There was no words spoken out of the darkness. I did not feel that shiver of cold and I did not feel myself become wrapped in warmth. I slept the rest of the night dreamless. I did not see him again, and instead saw my sleep to be quiet and dull.

I found myself awakening the next morning in disappointment, letting this be a sign of my absurdity.

Tag list:

@espresshadow

@mysticalfunmiracle

@thatsolarflare

[klaineficroulettechallenge-us]

By Kellyb321

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Blaine drove home from the Lima Bean basically on autopilot. He regurgitated the whole conversation with Sebastian time and again, unsure what wasn’t sitting well with him, but something was off. He was sure of it. His thoughts were all over the place, and he was amazed when he pulled into his subdivision and realized he didn’t remember a minute of the drive home. Hopefully, he hadn’t run down any little old ladies in crosswalks. Sheesh… What a day it had been. When Jeff stepped out from behind a shrub near the Anderson’s driveway, Blaine startled and nearly drove through the garage door.

“What the hell, man?” he hissed, window down and looking supremely windblown due to the drive home.

“Uh…you told me to meet you here?” Jeff replied, barely holding back the snicker at Blaine’s obviously frazzled state. “What’s going on with you? You look…not like yourself. The gel-met is all over the place, and you’re…snarky. Shit. You’ve been with Sebastian, haven’t you? That guy puts everyone in a mood,” Jeff surmised. 

“I was, but only to get back my watch. I left it there the last time I was at his house,” Blaine said absentmindedly. 

“Oh? You always take off items of—” 

“Don’t. Don’t even start with me, Sterling. I don’t even want to think about how epically I screwed up. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said I’d date him, let alone…anything more.” Blaine visibly shivered, feeling a little queasy when he thought about it. Those firsts that he’d given to Sebastian should have been Kurt’s, and now they had been essentially wasted on that unfaithful meerkat. It didn’t matter anyway. Kurt only thought of him as a friend. With a sigh, he grabbed the pocket watch from the front seat and stepped out of his car.

“I was just messing around, B. Don’t get so uptight, okay? What you do with your boyfr—”

“Oh, make no mistake, Jeff. I ‘wasn’t his boyfriend,’ ” Blaine explained, making little quotes with his fingers as he did. “We were never ‘ exclusive.’ He made sure to point that out,” Blaine sneered, getting more and more upset with himself by the minute.

“You didn’t, though…right? I mean…with him…with Sebastian. You didn’t…do that . Right?” Jeff asked hesitantly. He looked at Blaine from under his eyelashes and had the gall to look shy about the question.

“You’re my best friend—” Blaine began, but Jeff cut him off.

“Next to Kurt.” Jeff smiled and winked. 

Blaine paused, cheeks pinking up as he considered what to say next. Jeff was right, though. “Okay… Yes, next to Kurt.” He grinned. “If that had happened, you would have known about it. I’d have told you. But I’m so glad it never progressed to that point. I’ve always thought…” Blaine began but second-guessed himself. This arrangement with Kurt was new, and he hadn’t had any time at all to consider what to say to people and how much information to share.

“You always thought you’d save that for someone you love,” Jeff said quietly, giving his friend a knowing grin.

“Yes… Yeah,” Blaine said shyly. “That’s something that should be saved for…you know.” He shrugged. 

“Kurt?” Jeff asked innocently.

Blaine’s eyes instantly bugged out, and he gasped enough to nearly inhale one of his mom’s potted geraniums from the front porch. He thought he’d kept the depths of his feelings for Kurt pretty well under wraps, but apparently not.

“Oh, for goodness sake, B. I’ve known for a long time…probably as long as you’ve known. Nope. Probably longer than you’ve known, now that I think about it. The way you looked at him when you sang ‘Teenage Dream…’ Even  YOU didn’t know then, but I did. It was an epic love story in the making, believe me. I waited a long time for you to figure it out, and when he sang ‘Blackbird…’ Well, my man, you were a goner. Plain and simple, you fell head over heels, and anyone with eyes could tell. Except Kurt, apparently.” He shrugged.

“Yes, well, now that we’re dating, maybe I can convince him that I’m worthy of the boyfriend title?” Blaine said softly, tentatively, knowing that Jeff would absolutely understand the ruse, the dynamic of the situation, and he’d be there to advise Blaine on how to proceed…and win Kurt for real.

“Wait… Come again?” Jeff answered, eyes bright with happiness. “You are!? Freaking finally!!” Jeff yelled with a fist pump in the air.

“Well…it’s complicated. Come on inside, and I’ll fill you in, but you have to promise me, Jeff, that what I tell you stays between us, okay? Nobody can know the truth, or Kurt will not only be angry with me but he’ll be bombarded with a very infatuated David Karofsky, who wants nothing more than to call Kurt his own. You and I both know I can’t and won’t allow that to happen.”

Blaine opened the front door and led Jeff into the kitchen, where they grabbed something to drink and a bag of potato chips before heading up to Blaine’s room.

“Okay. So, wait…” Jeff said, picking up the conversation as if they’d never paused it. “Isn’t he the guy who bullied Kurt and threatened to kill him at McKinley??” 

“The very same, yes. But as it happens, he apologized, he’s gay, he’s changed schools, he’s infatuated with Kurt, he’s coming back to McKinley, and he wants Kurt. Kurt, on the other hand, is not okay with the idea but doesn’t want to hurt Dave because—let’s face it—he’s just too nice for his own good, and he thinks Dave is ‘fragile.’ And because he’s too nice to just be blunt and nip things neatly in the bud, when Karofsky asked Kurt to be not only his date to Prom this year but his boyfriend as well, Kurt told him he was going to Prom with me… because we’re dating . In short, he panicked and blurted out that we’re dating and that I’d already asked him to Prom to avoid going with Dave.” Blaine rolled his eyes at the craziness of the whole situation. 

Jeff stood at the foot of Blaine’s bed, gaping, unable to believe what his friend had just told him. “So…why don’t you just tell him how you feel, that you’d rather be dating him for real?” Jeff asked, truly clueless as to Blaine’s hesitance. The way Jeff figured, if Kurt’s first inclination was to say he was dating Blaine, perhaps there were feelings there? 

“Because…he has stressed so many times that I’m his best friend—JUST his best friend, and if that’s all I can have, then I’m keeping that, ya know? I don’t want to push and ruin our friendship. I don’t want to overwhelm him and ruin the good thing we have. But I’m hopeful that my good friend Jeff can help me out a little bit and show me how to woo one Kurt Hummel so that he WANTS to be my boyfriend for real.” Blaine grinned widely, his eyes sparkling and happy.

“Oh, so you think I can help, huh?” Jeff teased.

“You did land one devastatingly handsome Nicholas Duval, did you not?” 

“I did,” Jeff answered, his smile dazzling as he thought of his boyfriend of the past six months. 

“So…will you help me? I’m going to be the best damn fake boyfriend Kurt’s ever had, and he’s going to be so spoiled, so pampered, so enamored with his boyfriend that nobody else will ever measure up. He won’t want to end this fake relationship when it’s all said and done and maybe…just maybe…I can get the guy in the end.”

“I’m in, B! Operation Woo Kurt is in full force!” Jeff whooped, eyes wide and his smile wider. “Let’s do this!” With a fist bump and a man hug, they settled in to plan the attack.

—*—

When Blaine’s phone chimed with Kurt’s special ringtone, he realized the depth of his infatuation as his smile spread across his face. He dove over his bed and grabbed the phone, then took a deep breath, not wanting to sound too eager.

“Hey, you…” 

“Hi! I’m sorry I missed your call. I was elbow deep in calipers on a Ford F250 and…” Kurt began, but Blaine zoned out, thinking about Kurt: dirty Kurt, oil and engine grease and road grime Kurt, and Kurt subsequently getting clean and… “Blaine?” 

“Huh? I…I’m here. Yeah. Sorry. I was…” he began, but Kurt’s chuckle cut him off.

“I know. I’m sorry. Car stuff is probably boring to you.” 

“No! It’s not. I mean…you know I rebuilt that car with my dad and I… I’ve just been distracted lately,” Blaine explained, rolling his eyes at himself. When did he become a dithering schoolgirl?

“So, Dave stopped by the garage today,” Kurt said, clearly exasperated. Blaine perked up at that. Dave hadn’t really been on his radar since he’d switched schools and wasn’t up in Kurt’s personal space, but now that he was obviously after Kurt and heading back to McKinley, Blaine wasn’t so thrilled that he was hanging around more often.

“And? How did that go? I thought you told him—” 

“I DID! But, Blaine…ugh… He’s just…he doesn’t have friends at his new school, and he probably won’t have many friends when he comes back to McKinley. So for now, he has…me. And apparently, Sebastian, who was also at Scandals last night. Dave isn’t sure what all he said to him after half a dozen shots, but he’s been getting weird, cryptic texts from Sebastian all day. What exactly does ‘in cahoots’ mean, and can you be ‘out of cahoots’?” Kurt asked. 

Blaine’s brow furrowed, unsure where this was going, but it didn’t sound promising. He didn’t trust Sebastian, and even though the guy didn’t even consider them “boyfriends,” he clearly didn’t mind stirring the pot. In cahoots? Sebastian was up to something; Blaine just knew it! 

“Did you see the texts on his phone?” Blaine asked. And did Kurt detect a hint of unease in Blaine’s tone? Was he upset that Sebastian was already out at the bar, possibly picking up a new guy? His shoulders fell, and he let out a deep sigh.

“No. I was… Well, like I said, it was busy, and I was dirty, and my dad was kinda all up in my grill because Dave was there, like it was my fault… I didn’t want to act too interested, so I just kinda did the smile and nod thing and… Sorry. I’m babbling. I didn’t see what was on his phone, no. He just had this weird grin on his face and was going on and on about seeing me at school this week—” 

“THIS WEEK?” Blaine blurted out, eyes wide. He had hoped he’d have more time with just Kurt to figure out what they were before Dave came back. With a sigh, he decided there was no better time than the present to woo his best friend. “What are you doing tonight?” 

“Not sure. I was supposed to hang out with the girls, but Rachel bailed, Mercedes isn’t feeling 100 percent, and I don’t think that’s going to happen. Why? Did you want to hang out?” Kurt asked, the smile on his face radiating 1000 watts. He was glad Blaine couldn’t actually see him.

“Well, your boyfriend would like to officially start this…thing…and take you to dinner…if you’re amenable?” Blaine smiled, feeling his own cheeks turn pink.

“Oh?” Kurt teased. “Like…actually out to dinner? At a restaurant?” 

“Unless you don’t want—” 

“NO! I mean, yes! I want to. I just thought… I mean, I didn’t think you’d really…because it’s not…for real… We’re just pretending kinda, and I wasn’t sure… And I’m babbling again. I’m sorry,” Kurt said with a chuckle, his heart pounding madly in his chest. Dinner date with Blaine? Yes, please! His heart may not survive this ruse, but he was going to enjoy every minute of it while he could. Sebastian wasn’t getting Blaine back if Kurt Hummel had anything to say about it. “I think I’d like that. Where are we going? Breadstix?”

“Oh… Well, if you want to, we can certainly go there, but…” 

“I think it’d be a good idea. See and be seen. Everyone goes to Breadstix, so word will be out that Kurt Hummel had a date with Blaine Anderson before we even go to bed tonight!” Kurt chirped, excited at the prospect. “Oh, God, I mean… I didn’t mean…bed, like we’d be going to bed. I mean, of course, we will. Sleep. Not together or…” Kurt babbled, suddenly unable to string words together in his mortification.

Blaine just laughed at him. “I knew what you meant, Kurt. Don’t freak out. I’ll pick you up at 8:00?”

“I’ll be ready. And Blaine? Thank you for doing this. I know you weren’t really…enthusiastic about…lying…dating me and all that, but I do appreciate it.” 

“I think this is going to be good for both of us, Kurt. Just you wait and see!”

—*—

Blaine arrived at the Hummel home promptly at 8:00 p.m., red rose in hand and dressed to the nines. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door and nearly fell off the stoop when Burt answered the door without his trademark, easy-going grin.

“Blaine…” 

“M-Mister Hummel…” he stuttered, unsure about this “welcome” that was being offered.

“We’ve had this conversation, kid. It’s Burt. Is there something I should know about, Blaine?” Burt asked, eyes on the rose in Blaine’s hand. Oh, God, what had Kurt told him? Or not told him? What should he say? Thankfully, Kurt came to the rescue as he skipped down the stairs, and oh, Lord, was he a vision. Blaine may not make it through dinner without a bib to catch the drool.

“Dad!” he said, exasperated, and rolled his eyes. “Blaine and I are going—”

“Is this a date? Because you didn’t tell anyone you were dating. And everyone thought Blaine was dating that Sebastian guy,” Finn interrupted. “Rachel said she heard you and Blaine were dating. Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he asked, curious now.

“Maybe because it’s none of Rachel’s business? And who the heck told her anyway?” Kurt retorted, irritated that Rachel was spreading the word without Kurt’s consent or knowledge.

“She heard Blaine telling Sebastian at the Lima Bean this morning. She said they were bickering, and Sebastian was all smirky, and Blaine was upset—” 

“I wasn’t upset—”

“So, she was just eavesdropping and putting her nose in where it didn’t belong and then spreading rumors instead of keeping her mouth shut?” Kurt shot back. Blaine felt like he’d been slapped. Now, he was just a rumor? He was so confused. He thought Kurt wanted people to know they were “dating” so Dave would back off. Now, he felt like a dirty little secret. But then why were they going out to “see and be seen?” He was so confused. 

“Boys!” Carole called from the hallway. “Perhaps someone might allow Blaine to actually enter our home?” she said sweetly. “Hello, sweetheart. You look very handsome this evening,” she said as she tugged Blaine in for a hug. “Where are you boys headed?” Man, Blaine just loved Carole.

“The, uh…restaurant…Breadstix…” Blaine uttered, still unsure where he stood.

“And it’s just the two of you? For dinner? At a nice…okay. Well, reasonably suitable-for-a-date restaurant? Is this a date?” Burt asked. Kurt turned 87 shades of pink and hesitated just long enough for Blaine to become even more uncomfortable and Burt to get suspicious.

“Yes, Blaine is taking me on a date! Why are you interrogating me?” Kurt asked, looking down his nose.

“Is there a reason for an interrogation?” Finn asked, curious as well.

“You don’t even know what ‘interrogation’ means!” Kurt snapped, eyes wide and uncertain as to why Finn even gave a hoot. It wasn’t as if Kurt was ever on his radar anyway.

“Blaine and I…” Kurt began, but from the look on his face, Blaine could tell he wasn’t keen on lying to Burt or anyone else for that matter. He had to step in and make it right.

“May I just borrow Kurt for…just like…30 seconds? Please?” Blaine asked, eyes as bright as his charming smile. He took Kurt’s hand and pulled him down the hallway toward the guest restroom and turned the boy to look at him. “Kurt? Would you go to Prom with me?” 

“What? We already—” 

“Kurt!” Blaine hissed. “Answer the question. Would you go to McKinley’s Prom with me? I would like that very much,” he finished with a smile. Kurt was clearly confused.

“Of course, I will. Why are you asking me this?” 

“Because now you don’t have to lie to your dad. You can tell him I asked you to Prom and you accepted. Period. Now, can we get out there and get the Great Inquisition over with?” Blaine blinked at him several times, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah… Yes. Let’s get this show on the road,” Kurt said, unsure where they stood now. Blaine seemed exasperated, and Kurt wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he’d been ambushed the minute he walked in the door or if he was uptight about the “date” in general. They walked back down the hallway to three sets of waiting eyes and Finn with his hands on his hips.

“Sorry about that. Just needed a minute with Kurt,” Blaine smiled, charming them all as he always did.

“Dad, Blaine asked me to the Prom, and I accepted. We’re going out to dinner tonight at Breadstix, and yes, it’s a date,” Kurt said, sending Blaine a sweet little grin. Blaine returned it, and Kurt relaxed just a little bit.

Burt seemed satisfied with that explanation, and Carole did as well. Finn, on the other hand, still looked like they were planning a bank robbery, not dinner. Kurt just rolled his eyes at his stepbrother and took Blaine’s hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a reservation. See you later!” he said happily as he pulled Blaine out the door and down the front walkway to the driveway and the car that awaited them. Blaine held the door for Kurt, then walked around and got in the driver’s seat before waving back at Carole, who stood in the doorway.

“Be careful, guys!” Carole called. “Have fun!”

“We will!” Kurt called back.

Blaine backed out of the driveway and headed toward Breadstix.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, not looking at Blaine but at his lap instead. 

“For?” 

“For this…for all of it. Seriously. Not every friend would go to these lengths, and I appreciate it,” Kurt said sincerely. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life, Blaine.” 

Oh, God. There it was. The “f-word” again. Blaine resisted the urge to sigh long and loud and maybe even roll his eyes. Instead, he took a deep breath and glanced at Kurt.

“I’m doing this because you are my best friend. I truly enjoy your company. I don’t want you to have to fend off advances from Dave Karofsky if you can help it, and I just really want to hang out, go to Prom with you, and have fun. I think we can safely manage that, Kurt. Don’t you?” Blaine smiled. There. That was…friend-ly, wasn’t it? No pressure.

“It’s just…a lot. I know I’m a lot. It’s okay if you’re not comfortable, and at any time, you change your mind. You just let me know, okay? I’ll…I’ll find a way to just tell him no and let him down easy.” 

“It’s not a lot. It’s easy as can be, you and me, hanging out. There’s absolutely nothing difficult about that, Kurt. We’re just going to…” Blaine began, but then his mind went on a little journey of its own, flashing scenes at him fast as lightning, and he began to wonder. Exactly how were they going to convince people that they were dating and not just best friends as they’d always appeared? To really bring it home, to make people believe they were actually dating , they’d have to ramp it up. They needed to discuss this and figure out where their boundaries were.

“Blaine?” 

“Huh?”

“You paused mid-sentence and kinda…zoned out,” Kurt said, wondering if it had just dawned on Blaine how much this was going to change things.

“No. I’m good… We’re good. But I think we have a lot to talk about if we’re going to make this believable.”

Dinner would have been very nice if their server, Cassidy, hadn’t fallen over herself trying to hit on Blaine all evening. It was only made worse by the fact that it was a girl. A very cute girl. A very determined, cute girl, and Blaine, charming as ever, was not at all direct enough to make her back off. By the time their food arrived, she’d touched Blaine four times, batted her eyelashes at him, giggled at everything he’d said—including “I’ll have the ravioli…”—and Kurt was done with it. When she grabbed Blaine’s glass to go fetch him a refill, Kurt seized the opportunity.

“Whoa. Wha—” Blaine said, eyes wide as Kurt scooted out of his side of the booth and into Blaine’s side, snuggling up closely. He yanked his own plate over and sliced off a bite of his lasagna, then held it up to Blaine’s mouth just as Cassidy returned.

“You’ll love this… Wanna bite?” Kurt asked, his eyes dreamy as he watched Blaine open his mouth and taste the offered morsel.

“Mmm, yeah. That’s…that’s really good,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt strangely as Cassidy hovered just around the corner where Blaine couldn’t see her. Kurt certainly could, though.

“Oh, you have a little…um…” Kurt said shyly, leaning in to wipe his finger over a little speck of sauce on Blaine’s lip. “I thought you’d enjoy that,” he said, voice low as he leaned in and kissed Blaine’s cheek.

Blaine almost slid off the seat, unsure what had brought that on, and he barely resisted the urge to scan the restaurant to see who was watching. Was Dave there? Was Kurt trying to make a point? One thing was certain, he didn’t mind that little peck on the cheek at all.

“Enjoyed that… Yes… Yeah…” Blaine said dreamily, unsure he could form words at the moment.

“Here,” Cassidy said, thumping Blaine’s glass back on the table as she gave Kurt the nastiest glare, just out of Blaine’s line of vision. Kurt returned a sweet smile and batted his eyelashes at her. Take that, little girl!

“You…” Blaine said, still a little baffled as he touched his cheek with his fingertips.

“Was that too much?” Kurt asked, genuinely concerned that he’d overstepped and Blaine wasn’t okay with it.

“NO! I mean…not too much. You can…if you want. I just wasn’t expecting it; that’s all. Took me a little bit by surprise but…who doesn’t want dessert in the middle of their meal?” he smiled and winked, and Kurt…melted.

This arrangement might just kill him. What had he started, and would he be able to finish it without a broken heart?  _*_

Sebastian barely resisted the urge to grimace as he read his text messages. 

Hamhock: Looks like your boy is out with my boy for dinner.

Sebastian: And you just happened to be there as well? Or were you strategically placed, watching? Then following?

Hamhock: Happened to be driving by Kurt’s place when I saw them leave together. Breadstix is on my way home, so…yeah.

Sebastian: BREADSTIX?? Why in God’s name would they go THERE?? 

Hamhock: It’s close. Everyone goes there. It’s not cheap but not expensive either. Who knows? Still think Blaine was cheating on you with Kurt while you guys were going out? 

Sebastian: Don’t care. What I want is the last piece of the puzzle that I had nearly completed… before he gives it up to Gayface. I was well on my way before Blaine decided to drop by unannounced.

Hamhock: Keep it in your pants and you won’t have to worry about that kinda crap.

Sebastian: I assure you, keeping it in my pants is nowhere near as fun as letting it out to play. One day, maybe, you’ll figure that out, too.

Hamhock: Yeah. Well, you could be that much further with Blaine if you’d just kept anyone else out of the equation. And as long as Blaine was dating YOU, Kurt thought he wasn’t an option for HIM. Now, look where we are.

Sebastian: Are you here to question my sexcapades or win over Hummel? You want something. I want something. Those somethings apparently want each other, so it’s going to take both of us working together to get what WE want.

Sebastian: Well???

Hamhock: Yeah. I’m in.

Sebastian: Good. Meet you Monday at the Lima Bean to strategize. 3:00 p.m. Be on time.

Hamhock: It’s my first day back at McKinley. School’s not out until 2:50. I’ll be there right after.

Hamhock: They’re leaving the restaurant now.

Sebastian: OMG! You’re still there!? 

Hamhock: Figured I was already here, may as well see it through.

Sebastian: Oh, Dave… You’ve got it bad. That, or you’re a deranged stalker…which kinda creeps even ME out a little.

Hamhock: I’m NOT a stalker. I just like knowing where Kurt is and what he’s doing. And who he’s doing it with.

Sebastian: He’d better not be doing IT with anyone, especially not Blaine. That cherry is MY dessert and nobody else’s.

Read on Fanfiction.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14074920/2/The-Prom-Us

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot  ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.) 

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

-

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.  

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation). 

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!