#somehow it ended up looking as if he has frosted tips for some reason?

[voidmagic]

IGNIS FATUUS

[celestialbruise]

Hello! For fanfic club, may I request canonverse no war AU where Wei wuxian doesn't get kicked out of the lectures? Please give me humour, everyone else face palming at oblivious wangxian, fluff, them being adorable and I love and figuring what they wanna be months before the lectures end. Most likely with implied future ending (like it could be lwj planning to propose 2 years later and making mental notes, etc). Thank you!

this is so late!! I am the worst!! hopefully, I did your wonderful prompt justice, enough to make up for my tardiness :') I had such fun writing this, so thank you sm for that<3 I love to be back on the let wangxian be happy agenda

(side note: I read that according to old customs, couples sometimes exchanged their jade pendants at their engagement ceremony, which is why nhs tells wwx to buy it at caiyi town) 

-

So, it’s not weird. It’s very casual, y’know, nothing to write home about. It’s just that Wei Wuxian has found himself going back to the Library Pavilion. Every day. And that’s! Normal!

“But,” Nie Huaisang’s brows scrunched in confusion. “Your punishment ended a week ago…right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“....No reason….” Nie Huaisang flipped open his fan, his tone all-too-casual all he followed his cryptic musings up with an offer, “Wei-xiong, on a completely unrelated note, I’d be happy to lend you some more of my books, if you want any.”

-

“I’ve noticed that Wei-gongzi seems to be visiting the Library Pavillion often these days,” Lan Xichen hedged, sounding far-too curious for his own good. Lan Wangji’s spine felt somehow stiffer as he walked alongside his brother and although he was confident nothing about his expression gave him away, he could feel his traitorous ears burning. 

“He is an avid reader,” Lan Wangji said, straight-faced, like a liar. He was sure Wei Wuxian was well-read so it wasn’t technically a lie, since they were in the Cloud Recesses, where that was strictly forbidden.

It’s only that when Wei Wuxian visited, he didn’t exactly sit quietly and pick up scrolls. He’d pester Lan Wangji, sprawling over his desk, tugging on his sleeve, drawing him frivolous (pretty) things that Lan Wangji would pretend not to look at, and recently, he’d even begun to bring in little violets he picked from the back mountain which - who knows how he’d found his way there.

It was a simple omission of the truth. Nothing more. 

“Well, whatever the case,” Lan Xichen smiled, lashes dipping. “It’s good to see you have a friend.”

“He is not a friend,” Lan Wangji informed his brother curtly, but Lan Xichen’s smile did not waver even a fraction.

“Then it’s good you have a companion.”

Lan Wangji didn’t dignify that with a response, mostly because he didn’t have one. He feared his second denial would fall flatter than the first. 

Because he kept coming back, is the thing. Wei Wuxian always came back. His punishment had ended long ago - he had no reasn to visit the Library Pavilion as frequently, as faithfully as he did. He only came, after all, to find Lan Wangji. And despite Lan Wangji’s attempts to ice him out, Wei Wuxian was a warmth that burned through all of his many layers of frost, settling pleasantly in his chest. It was a warmth Lan Wangji had come to crave. 

If not a companion, then what was Wei Wuxian, to Lan Wangji?

-

“Do you think Lan Zhan would like the purple one or the green one better? Or, should I just stick with blue?”

“Lan Zhan?” Nie Huaisang raised an inquisitive brow. Wei Wuxian blinked, wide grey eyes innocent and sparkling like the river that ran behind them.

“Yes…?”

“You call him by his birth name?”

“I think I just did?”

“To his face?”

“What other body part of his would I be talking to?”

Oh, this was too much fun. Nie Huaisang bit his tongue against all the innuendos poised atop the tip. “And he hasn’t murdered you yet?”

Wei Wuxian huffed, throwing his hands out, all dramatics. “I don’t know, Nie-xiong, are you talking to a ghost right now?”

“....To be determined,” Nie Huaisang decided, nodding towards the money purses clutched in Wei Wuxian’s hands. “If you want my advice, don’t give him that. You should get him a jade pendant.”

This recent entertainment Nie Huaisang had found in watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji dance around each other was a double-edged blade, one he could actually wield. For one, it was endlessly amusing that Wei Wuxian thought all that he wanted from Lan Wangji was his friendship. Nie Huaisang wasn’t fluent in spring books and romance novels for nothing - he was practically an expert on these kinds of affairs, and he’d eat his own fan if it really turned out Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were only ‘friends.’ And then, as if that wasn’t enough, on a day free of classes Wei Wuxian had all but dragged Nie Huaisang along with him to Caiyi Town to go shopping, for a ‘friendship gift’ for ‘his Lan Zhan.’ Yes, Wei Wuxian had used those exact words. 

“Why a jade pendant?” Wei Wuxian frowned, but obediently put down the money purse to hold the jade pendant above his head, studying the way it sparkled when the light hit it just right. 

“You want him to know you’re interested in him, don’t you?”

“In his friendship? Duh. I like Lan Zhan. He’s a funny guy.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang smiled a fox’s smile behind his fan. “Well, this will make your intentions crystal clear, Wei-xiong, trust me.”

In his defense, Nie Huaisang hadn’t specified the exact intention the jade pendant would bring light to. 

-

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji freezes in his tracks, tongue caught in between his teeth. It’s enough time for Wei Wuxian to catch up to him, all radiant light and buoyant smiles and laughter that rings out like bells.

“You were walking so fast, er-gege, I had to run to catch up! Where are you off to in such a rush, hm?”

Lan Wangji feels terribly tongue-tied, feels as if he cannot possibly say he is going to feed the bunnies Wei Wuxian gifted him. It feels far too vulnerable to state in the warm light of day. Too much like a confession for something Lan Wangji had only recently put into words. 

Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian eyes aren’t just arresting, crystalline clear and sparkling grey, but keen as well. They dart to the carrots Lan Wangji holds in his hands - and, well, even if Wei Wuxian wasn’t a genius, anyone would be able to put two and two together. 

A steady, burning flush spreads from the tips of his ears down to his throat. Lan Wangji thinks, with no small amount of mortification, that it may have bled to his cheeks as well. 

“Oh! You’re off to feed our children, huh?” Wei Wuxian grins, and before Lan Wangji’s can grow any more flustered, Wei Wuxian asks, “Mind if I tag along?”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t wait for Lan Wangji’s answer - maybe because he fears Lan Wangji will reject his advances yet again - whatever the case, he simply winds his arm around the crook of Lan Wangji’s elbow and begins leading them down the gravel path as if he knows the way. Which, to be fair, he probably does. Lan Wangji doesn’t rebuff Wei Wuxian nor does he try to shake him off, so he supposes that is enough of an answer on its own. 

“I knew you were fond of those bunnies Lan Zhan,” Lan Wangji can hear the grin in Wei Wuxian’s tone, can imagine it curved across his face, his eyes twin crescent-moons of mirth. He keeps his eyes on the path before him. This simple point of contact between them, after all, already feels fit to send him into qi deviation. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how much more his painfully thin face can take. He can barely manage to hum in acknowledgement. 

“Mn.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t roast them then, hahaha! Aiyah, don’t look at me like that - you can call me a lot of things, but I’m not a bunny killer, really Lan Zhan. They’re too fluffy to eat!” Wei Wuxian chattered along, his voice like the babbling of an excitable brook. Lan Wangji found it incomparably soothing, as he always did. “I always kind of wanted a pet, y’know? But not, like, a dog.” Wei Wuxian shuddered and Lan Wangji felt the aftershocks shiver into his arm, melting into his bones. It may have been a bit dramatic, but Lan Wangji thought Wei Wuxian’s eyes grew a bit too wide for him to be exaggerating. “Rabbits are tiny and fluffy and sweet. Dogs are just the worst, don’t you agree Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji had never had much of an opinion on dogs before, but in that instant, he unequivocally decided they were intolerable. “Dogs are forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji said - and he realized only after he had said it that yes, he had said it to comfort Wei Wuxian. He wanted to soothe the tightness with which that arm suddenly squeezed around his own. 

“Really?” Wei Wuxian asked, easing up. “How did I miss that rule? That would have been my favorite one!”

“My uncle does not like them,” Lan Wangji responded, which was, technically, not a lie. Of course, his uncle would not like the rabbits Lan Wangji was keeping either - but the bunnies were small, and far out of the way, as much as they possibly could be.

Lan Wangji figured that he could allow himself this small act of rebellion.

For Wei Wuxian, he could. 

He made a mental note to suggest to his uncle that they should specify no dogs were allowed in the Cloud Recesses. 

“Oh!” Lan Wangji’s eyes darted over at Wei Wuxian’s exclamation. “Before I forget, I have a gift for you.”

A gift?

“There is no need,” Lan Wangji said, stilted, mostly because he was confused over why he would be receiving a gift, and because this was breaking yet another rule. Do not overindulge. 

“Of course, there’s a need,” Wei Wuxian laughed, pulling something out of his sleeve. “Everyone likes gifts. Here - you have to take it, I bought it, just for you. Don’t reject me so harshly, okay? It’ll hurt my feelings.”

Lan Wangji bit his tongue, but relented with a small nod. It was also against the rules to be unnecessarily cruel, after all. 

Blood pounded in his ears, almost deafening Wei Wuxian’s explanation of his gift - but even if the wave of sound resounding in his head had somehow swept away Wei Wuxian’s words, Lan Wangji would have known what the gift meant, anyway. Lan Wangji felt useless, he could only stare at the exquisitely carved jade pendant as it soaked up golden sunlight, carefully cradled in Wei Wuxian’s palm. 

The implications sent his mind reeling, and his heart into disarray. Wei Wuxian couldn’t possibly mean-

Lan Wangji couldn’t remember a time his face had felt so hot, besides any other moment he had shared with Wei Wuxian - Wei Ying. Yes, Wei Wuxian had given Lan Wangji permission to call him by his birth name, hadn’t he? He had, and Lan Wangji had long ago forgotten when he’d stopped minding the sound of his own on Wei Wuxian’s tongue. It felt like it belonged there. As if it were meant for Wei Wuxian’s lips and Wei Wuxian’s alone.

“Don’t tease,” Lan Wangji said, his voice coming out somewhat sharper than he meant it. Quieter, too. Because if this was a joke, like he had suspected so many of Wei Wuxian’s flirtations to be-

“I’m not!” Wei Wuxian protested, his free hand thumping atop his heart as he bounced beside Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan, you wound me. I present you this gift with only the sincerest intentions. Won’t you believe me? I’ll hold onto the tail-end of your forehead ribbon and swear on my parents’ graves if that’ll give it more weight.”

“No need,” Lan Wangji managed through the sudden lump that had appeared in his throat, unswallowable. So, they shared a kinship in this? Unconsciously, he found himself softening. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Wei Wuxian’s tongue teased the sharp tip of his canine. Lan Wangji’s eyes couldn’t help but track the movement. “You have to believe me. Lying is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses, don’t you know?”

Something strange happened, then. A foreign feeling welled up inside of his chest, not unlike a flurry of excited butterflies. Lan Wangji didn’t think he had felt it since he had last seen his mother, ten long years ago.

It was the urge - to smile. To laugh. 

“I do know,” Lan Wangji shot Wei Wuxian a side-long look. “Do you?”

“When it comes to the important stuff, of course,” Wei Wuxian sounded so solemn, and heart-wrenchingly sincere. And under the warm summer sunlight, caught in a fragrant, gentle breeze-

How couldn’t Lan Wangji believe him?

They continued down the path together, arms entwined. 

-

From a bridge not too far away, two figures watched the two dressed in white disappear into the forest, their white, swirling robes lost in the thick swathes of swaying green.

“Romance is in the air, wouldn’t you say, Jin-xiong?” Nie Huaisang sighed, a dreamy smile curving his lips as he idly fanned himself. Jin Zixuan had joined him in watching Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian blush and make eyes at each other - mostly to make disgusted, retching noises, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Nie Huaisang, how round his eyes had gotten when Wei Wuxian had presented Lan Wangji with his gift. Clearly, he was taking notes. 

“How is it romantic? It’s hopeless, is what it is,” Jin Zixuan groaned, though Nie Huaisang noticed he hadn’t torn his eyes away, his gaze still settled on where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s afterimages lingered. “And my cousins tease me for being oblivious.”

“You are,” Nie Huaisang says, because he was present for the mess Jin Zixuan made of himself in front of Jiang Yanli at the last Jiang Clan banquet. 

Jin Zixuan shot Nie Huaisang a horrible glare, but there was really nothing he could say in his defense. 

-

Later, away from the prying eyes of others - how could Lan Wangji, with his sharp senses, be somehow unaware they were being watched? - as Lan Wangji watched Wei Wuxian tumble around in the grass around the rabbits, laughing and calling out the names he had given them, these children of theirs he had claimed them to be, a thought solidified in his mind, sunlight shining through amber, revealing the treasure inside.

I want to spend forever with him.

Lan Wangji had thought he’d think himself in circles trying to come up with the perfect gift to give Wei Wuxian in return. He wasn’t good at expressing himself, the breadth of his emotions - but Lan Wangji had come to realize, as the sun started to slink past the horizon, and the world was enveloped in rosy tones and shades of blue, that maybe it was only he wasn’t the best with words.

Maybe something like this didn’t need words, in the end. 

As they turned to leave, and Wei Wuxian looked at him with those silver, sparkling eyes, pure happiness in his voice as he asked Lan Wangji if they could visit their rabbits every day, Lan Wangji could no longer resist. He took Wei Wuxian around the waist, into his arms, and only shook a little as he pressed their lips together. 

Wei Wuxian tasted like spring. Lush against Lan Wangji’s lips, incomparably soft and impossibly sweet. Lan Wangji pulled away, only because air was a necessity and it was quickly running from his lungs, in the face of what he had just done. 

“Ah?” Wei Wuxian’s fingers trembled as they traced his lips, his cheeks dusting an intoxicating pink. “What was that for?”

Lan Wangji swallowed, and though the kiss had been chaste, his voice came out hoarse. “Your gift.”

“My gift,” Wei Wuxian murmured, lashes fluttering, and before Lan Wangji could worry he’d somehow misread the situation, Wei Wuxian was clinging to his arms, crying out. “Lan Zhan! Now mine looks inadequate! I’m going to have to buy you a thousand more jade pendants! A million! Even that won’t be enough!”

A shadow of a smile tucked itself into the corner of his lips. 

“Or,” Lan Wangji cleared his throat, preserving valiantly through the waves of his own shamelessness. “You could kiss me again.”

Wei Wuxian quieted, a dangerous, beautiful gleam alighting in his star-bright eyes. 

“I could do that,” Wei Wuxian agreed, pulling Lan Wangji down once more.

[controlthesleeve]

My review of the cinematic masterpiece that is Python (2000) dir. Richard Clabaugh

A perfect killing-machine. A one hundred-and twenty-nine-foot all-terrain vehicle capable of speeds exceeding 50 miles an hour with skin that can deflect an anti-tank round, enhanced night vision, and a voracious appetite for human flesh.”

Python is a bad movie. The CGI is terrible, and both the plot and the characters are paper thin, but it all somehow comes together to create a whole that is surprisingly entertaining. I obviously watched the movie for one reason: William Zabka and I was pleasantly surprised by how well the movie delivers on that front. He has a decent amount of screen time, which he spends looking hot in a police uniform & 00’s frosted tips. Beyond the Zabka factor, Python is surprisingly entertaining as a schlocky B-movie which thankfully doesn’t take itself too seriously. The movie is stupid fun, and frankly doesn't need to be anything else.

Genre-wise I’d say it’s more of an action-comedy than a horror movie, despite some reasonably grisly corpses. That being said, not all the jokes land, Zabka’s dim-witted partner on the force is clearly meant to provide comic relief, but mostly just comes across as annoying, and scenes intended to be scary are often funnier than any of the movie’s actual comedy. However, some scenes, such as the one where William Zabka and the main character have a fight in a playground while the children watch have a genuinely entertaining. I also want to give a shout-out to what is possibly the horniest house-buying scene ever filmed outside of actual porn.

William Zabka plays Greg Larson, a small-town cop who in true William Zabka character-style has a grudge against the main character for “stealing his girl”. Initially, Python, seems like it’s going to be another instalment in the William-Zabka-plays-a-bully cinematic universe, as we Greg abusing his powers to harass the main character, taking him in for questioning as a murder suspect on dubious grounds. However, Greg and *checks notes* John eventually make peace, and while you can’t really call any of the characters in this disaster of a movie “well-rounded,” Greg is the only one who has any kind of arc.

As with most of Zabka’s filmography, the trick to successfully watching Python is to go in with extremely lowered expectations, because if you can accept Python for what it is you may end up having a pretty good time.

Sidenote: I can’t believe they made a sequel to this movie, let alone THREE of them (Boa (2001), Python II (2002), and Boa vs. Python (2004)) tragically, Mr. Zabka only appears in Python II, so I shan’t be watching the rest.

[embretheworld]

I Hate You I Hate You I Love You (Part 1)

What do you do when you get injured on the opposing clan's territory? Adaman would just rather die but it seems as if Irida has other plans.

A/N: This is a bit of an au kinda, you'll see at the end.

Basically where the protag appeared earlier than just left the village and went off to do their own thing for a couple of years, y'know, like how Red from the original games did but just the full extent of it and never reconnecting. It also takes place a little earlier before canon game, like before we go on the adventure to quell the frenzied pokemon but that's about it. Then the end part takes place after canon

The name of the protag is Akari btw, Nintendo confirmed.

other than that, protag x mai is possibly next

WARNING: Spoilers(soon/next chapters) and blood and injury!

-linebreak-

Adaman wants to die.

It's not a statement he says often, or scratch that, at all really but it applies to this situation greatly, this embarrassing situation he's somehow found himself in. Adaman has somehow managed to find himself in the Alabaster Icelands, how, he isn't exactly sure. Most mornings that accompany meetings tend to pass by in a blur, he doesn't really pay attention to them, something Irida often yells at him for which he promptly ignores with a shrug of the shoulders.

Maybe he should pay attention to what Commander Kamado says more often.

The entire idea was for him to go to Alabaster Icelands to solve an issue he can't quite remember what it was, escorted by Irida which he promptly protested since he had been there once so surely, he doesn't need directions once more. As it turns out, he did need directions.

He had just been walking towards the Pearl settlement, a little too cold for his own liking, preferring the habitat of his home over anything else. He had his Leaeon and Eevee by his side idly chatting with them about nothing important until the three got jumped by a particularly overleved Bergmite.

The sudden chaos that rang out was jarring.

This was how he ended up in a small opening, hidden between two slabs of ice with ice sprinkled throughout his hair, tips almost frosted as a layer of freshly fallen snow coats his eyelashes and his clothing, his brown eyes a little duller than before, glassy at the edges. Patches of snows stained with blood as they ran down from his limbs and dripped down onto the ground, by now there was a small pool of blood around his injured right leg, tiny puddles forming from the blood dripping off on the cut from his left forearm. And of course, his Pokemon are nowhere in sight.

Having been in a situation similar to this one fore he did his best to deal with it, which was to tend to himself and continue on with the mission he had been given. Fitting a piece of spare cloth from his clothing that had been tied into a knot between his teeth biting down onto it. Using his clothing to shield his hand he grabbed a spare piece of ice and braced himself for the cold that'd soon sting his leg but help numb the pain of it briefly focusing on his surroundings but moreover on his task at hand. He could really used some help.

"Is someone there?"

He froze at the familiarity of the voice, already knowing who it is, stopping completely in his proceedings. Of course, she'd be out here looking for him, he was probably late, that's the only reason she'd come out and look for him. He's not sure how she could tell the time in this tundra but he didn't doubt she could with the weirdo she was. The sound of muffled footsteps came to a stop, replaced by the muffled sound of a foot sliding in the snow. "Adaman is that you?! You better come out, scaring me isn't going to work!" Not today, he bitterly thought, not today, but maybe later. An impish smile grew on his face as he imagined walking into the pearl settlement all bloodied up and scaring the hell out of her and a few of the clan members at the same time. He snickered to himself, maybe one day but not today.

"Gotcha!"  She landed on her feet, legs bent inward a bit, catching herself with her hands in case she fell forward, she didn't but if she did he'd laugh but for now he'd settle with letting out a shout of surprise backing out slightly. "There you are! Just what do you think you're trying to...!" Her speech is stolen away from her as she looks him over, her once frustrated expression morphing into one with concern. She visibly softens, taking a step back as her brows knead with worry. "What... What happened to you Adaman? A-are you okay?!"

Despite the fact that he'd been wishing for help earlier- despite the fact that he needed help- he rolls his eyes with an unimpressed scoff, glaring at her though not as intimidating as he wants it to be. "Do I look okay to you?" She didn't bother to respond looking around with worry worn into her face, if he peeked behind her he could briefly see a moving figure of what he assumed was her Glaceon who he didn't particularly favor due to its ability to defeat his Leafeon in one of their earlier disputes.

"Where's... Where's your Pokemon?" She looked around, careful, ready to dodge if needed, yet she didn't see Leafeon anywhere, nor Eevee as well.

"Would you believe me if I told you they were going get Mai? Or at least I hope they are," Irida just slaps her forehead, "You're an idiot,"

Adaman clicks his tongue. "Takes one to know one," And that just frustrates her even more, hopefully enough to leave him alone but as it turns out, it doesn't.

"Do you know how pale you look right now?" Irida tells him off her hands on her hips as a frown deepens into her face, he has to personally resist the urge to tell her that she'll gain even more wrinkles than she already has if she keeps frowning like that, he pushes down the urge, but that doesn't mean he doesn't insult her. "The reason why I'm so pale is from having to look at your face," It didn't hold its usual bite, but currently the clan leader wasn't in the mood to care right now.

Irida lets out an exasperated sigh while dragging a hand through her hair gripping at it before letting go. "Adaman do you even understand what I'm saying?! If you turn any paler right now you'll start blending in with the snow!"

He rolled his eyes at her, folding his arms over his chest. "Good, then maybe you won't be able see me and I won't have to listen to you anymore."

"Can you even walk?!"

"Pft, yeah, what do you think I'm a child?"

"If you can then you better walk towards me. Come on. Walk towards me," She motions herself with a finger, then places a hand on her hips leaning forward, pursing her lips. "I bet you can't even take a single step," She sneers, but it doesn't take an idiot to see the concern hidden deep in her voice and the lack of malice hidden behind it. Adaman just shakes his head glaring up at her.

"I can handle this by myself, I don't need your help," Irida threw up her arms in a melodramatic way, spinning on her heels. "Fine! Fine, do it your way. When you die don't blame me!" Then she proceeded to stalk off stomping her heels loudly against the ground, however, that didn't mean it was necessarily fast, in fact, she was as slow as a Goomy.

He ignored her focusing on getting up. Using his non-injured arm he placed it flat up against a slanted rock behind him pushing himself upward he positioned his legs so he could stand upward, ignoring the pain pulsing in his leg, grimacing. He pushed himself up only to fall on himself as the pain increased tenfold more. Yeah no, that isn't going to work, he thought wincing at the pain.

"W...Wait..." He lets out a groan, wincing as he accidentally puts more pressure on his leg than he should have, he feebly gestures at her, grinding his teeth together he sucks in a tight breath that leaves the back of his throat cold and dry. "I might need some help... Maybe..."

She turns to look at him, the smirk on her face not hidden, not hindering the sliver of concern in her baby blue eyes. She pursed her lips, jutting out her hip to the side as she used the hand that wasn't on her hip to tap her chin in an almost hypnotic motion. "I dunno... Should I really help you after how rude you've been to me in my previous attempts to? It's a mystery really..."

The male clan leader gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at her with a frown. Why now of all times do you have to be smug? I'm already in a bad mood. Do you have to make it worse?

"You should," He persisted nonetheless, giving a curt nod up at her. "it's your responsibility to make sure I get to the destination alive," Eyes now closed, she nodded along with a thoughtful expression on her face, not bothering to open them as she spoke.

"But didn't you say you didn't need my help with directions and you could handle it 'just fine'." He inwardly swore at himself, he didn't remember saying it but he probably did, it sounds like something he'd say. He tried to sit up properly until a sudden flash of white-hot pain rang out in his arm and leg forcing him to slump backward, a groan of pain slipping past his lips.

"I was wrong," He forced himself to say, wincing as the revitalized pain in his body, a cough building up in his chest. "Very wrong, so c'mon, just help me out," Then, just as he finished his sentence the cough building in his chest racked his frame as it came out, crumpling on himself somewhat. In what he's sure was an act of pity by the concern that flashed across her face, Irida crossed her arms and stood firm, glaring at him weakly.

"Fine, you... You won me over, but just the once, okay?"

"I'm really hoping there won't be a second,"

"Likewise,"

Crouching down she tugged him out between the two slabs of ice so she could have more room to work. Throwing his right arm over her shoulder, gripping at his left wrist with her left hand, and wrapping her right arm around his waist and with his support pulled themselves up with a few miss tries, then, they were on their way towards her settlement.

The walk was a long one or at least it felt like it. As time passed Irida watched as the other clan's leader strength was slowly sapped from him, his once bright eyes growing duller and glassier as he was uncharacteristically quiet.

Irida started to walk faster.

As the two walked into the village, Adaman felt glares harden into his back until they suddenly soften upon seeing the bloody footprint left with each of his steps, or they settled for being sharper instead. He heard laughs ring out in his ears as he stumbled from the growing numbness of his leg, the Pearl Clan leader stopped in her steps shooting him a concerned look and he nodded and the two kept on walking.

The two of them walk all the way up multiple steps of stairs, some made of stone, however, some weren't even stairs but were steep hills were too many of them and Adaman swore he was going to collapse soon enough if he had to climb one more set of them. Thankfully, those were about it, well, that was it with the climbing, that didn't exclude the two people who were near the tent they were walking towards, staring at them- staring at him. It was an old lady and a man who was in his late twenties, seemingly just standing around for nothing as if something was meant to appear in front of them.

As they stared at him he stared back, narrowing his glare- although weakened- at them. As they were just about to pass the older man the female clan leader nudged him bringing his attention back at her. "That's Comi and Meto, ignore them they don't care enough to wonder what you're doing here,"

"They sure aren't acting like it," The blonde rolls her eyes and carries on walking, and just like she said the two adults end up spacing out, forgetting him as if he never existed in the first place. The two leaders reach the periwinkle color hut after what seems like hours, snow coats both of their apparel and figure, yet despite how much skin the young woman has exposed she seems completely unaffected by it all while he's still shivering in his boots- and he isn't even wearing boots!

The two stumbled inside, Irida holding the door open with her foot until they walked in enough that she could safely close it without worrying about hitting the other clan leader. At the sound of the door opening and then closing, one of the older women who had short black locks and dark skin, turned towards them her expression immediately turning into one of a look of terror and shock.

"Oh my! Irida what happened?!"

"Lati," She said firmly and the older woman nodded while the other woman in the room stared on. "we got a situation on her hands,"

The woman- Lati as she said- looked at Irida with unwavering sympathy, her hand covering her mouth. "Poor boy," She clearly didn't recognize him or she was too focused on his injuries to realize who he was or see the symbols on his clothing. "while I adore the dedication you have for caring for people, are you sure you can handle this Irida?"

The blonde curtly nodded, glancing between her and the other woman in here. "Lati, Mille," Mille snapped out of the daze she was in and looked towards the younger woman. "go get the vodka from the storage hut and a cup of water, a few swabs, and towels would be nice too. Probably some extra blankets and clothing now that I think about it,"

Baffled at one of the demands, the diamond clan leader forces out a laugh staring at the blonde with raised brows. "You're actually trying to kill me! With alcohol of all things," All she did was shoot him a glare, loosening her grip on him and making him stumble. "Shut up, I'm using it to make disinfectant, besides you did a pretty job of that yourself,"

As Lati and Mille moved to step out of the hut, Irida lugged him towards the bottom bunk of the and unceremoniously dropped him onto it, throwing him a spare pillow to elevate his leg on. "Make sure you take off your jacket," She says, Lati and Mille having already left the hut as she turns her back to him and moves towards the stove. Adaman quicks a brow at her before a wry smirk spreads onto his face.

"Start courting me before you start demanding me to strip at least!"

Rolling her eyes she ignored him and started up the stove, grabbing a spare basket off the shelf she picked the vegetables and fruits off of the line that hung from the ceiling, grabbing a few herbs from the shelf as well, already busying herself in her work.

"You know, Mai would be furious if she was here right now," Adaman let out a huff, stripping the bed of its red blanket and throwing it to the side, moving the pillow under his leg staining it a red color, unsure how to levitate his arm. "well, she'd be furious either way, knowing her she probably already knows." Further ignoring her he pulled his uninjured leg closer against his chest, resting his injured arm on it and hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Place the basket of different types of plants next to the stove she took a step towards the shelf and grabbed the liter of water in a closed vase and moved to pour it in the pot she placed on the heating stove. She placed the empty vase on the shelf and grabbed a cutting board instead, laying it on the floor along with a knife for later when she'd cut the vegetables.

"You better like broth because you're not getting anything else," He didn't answer and she struck it off as him ignoring her and moved to cut the vegetables and herbs with quick chops, a few minutes later she had cut all of them and slid it all into the pot waiting to bring it to a boil. With her hands on her hips, lips pursed she looked up from the pot and at Adaman who was still ignoring her.

"You know it's rude to ignore the person whose bed your bleeding on," She swore he didn't even blink but continued to stare on and instead of being annoying, it started to unsettle her. Adaman is not the silent type, he's never been.

Trepidation starts to expand in her stomach as her shoulders tense and she finds her feet moving towards him before she can even account for it. "Hey Adaman!" He doesn't respond and the trepidation builds up even more.

"Hey... Hey! Say something Adaman!" The man doesn't say anything, seemingly busy with his head in the clouds but Irida does notice that his eyes have gotten duller and there's a layer of sweat on his forehead which entices her to move in closer. "A-Adaman!" She crouches next to him, her eyes are worn with worry as her brows are knitted together, the bag she was holding forgotten at her side. "Adaman! Are you?!.." She poked his leg and he jolted at the touch, eyes shooting open as he soon enough shot her a glare.

"What do you want?" Unexpectedly, he comes back even sourer than before and him snapping at her surprises him honestly.

"Adaman..." The frown on her face deepens as she rests a hand on her chest. "Adaman are you okay?..."

"M'fine, just... Just tired..."  Irida shakes her head ignoring him, turning to her side to dig in the bag she placed at her side. "I don't think that's a good thing,"

"What are you doing with that bag?" He squints at the bag and watches as she pulls out bandages and some thread and need for what he could assume would be used as sutures. "Just getting everything set up, I already have the water boiling for the food so you'll be well-fed,"

He looked away from her not responding and the two didn't talk much after that.

A few moments later Lati and Mille came back, holding a bottle of vodka and a small basin of water, along with a few swabs and towels and Irida was back to work. She had the let the broth come to a simmer, covered by the lid. As the broth was simmering Irida has made homemade disinfectant by mixing vodka and water together, wiping away the blood with a towel she bore witness to that every time the swab that had been dunked in the liquid whenever it made contact with the wound he winced but refused to say anything.

Soon enough she was at it with the sutures sewing away at the skin which seemed to gain a more visceral reaction from him, letting out a pained sound as he gripped tightly at the sheets under him as he gritted his teeth. By the time she had finished he seemed more tired than angry, paler than when she found him and she was left off more worried than before.

She watched as he flopped back onto the bed, his hair in the ponytail splaying a halo around his head, he let out breath after breath until his breathing steadied out and it was safe to assume he was asleep while not particularly soundly. Since every once and a while his breath would hitch, stop, long enough she thought to check on him then it'd resume and it worried her greatly.

Worry aside she resumed cooking, the broth having been brought to a simmer she started stirring once more. Time passed and soon enough a knock was on her door and she moved to get it. Upon opening the door unexpectedly- though she should have expected it- it was Mai, Adaman's older sister, and a warden as well.

The two of them exchange a brief nod, a huff from the clan leader but nothing more and nothing less. Stirring the broth out of the corner of her eye she watches as the rival clan leader's sister quietly takes a seat next to him, grabbing the blanket that had been strewn aside and tucking him in. Shaking her head, Irida just sighed and turned towards her broth lightly stirring it, settling for breaking the silence when she found the right words.

"I assume Sabi's the one who told you?" Mai nodded not looking away from her brother.

"She said it was her clairvoyance that told her to go for a ride on Braviary, she saw his Pokemon and I assume they led her to the place you found him, right? Near that pitiful piece of land with the large piece of ice in the middle?"

Tensing she stopped stirring the brother, freezing in her movements and looking up at her. "It's called Avalugg's Legacy, but yes, that's where I found him, he tried to convince me not to help him." Mai just let out a sigh she was sure that was weighing on her chest and slowly shook her head. She moved her hands to brush the loose strand of blue hair behind his ear. "He means well, he's just stubborn,"

"That's the problem, your brother is too stubborn and I hate him for it,"

Mai's brows furrowed and she shook her head more fervently and Irida continued stirring. "Look," She started taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Me and him are close, we always have been," Her hands gripped tightly into the sheets as she turned away from her brother to look glance at her. "everyone in the Diamond Clan is really just one big family, but that doesn't change the fact his my little brother. My only brother, my only real family left, if anything were to happen to him then I..."

Then there was silence only being filled with her deep breath after deep breath, collecting herself as she balled her hands into fists, letting go of the sheets.

"He's my family, my only brother," She continued on, her voice strained by unkept anger. "But that doesn't mean I don't know how capable and strong he is, only the Almighty Sinnohs knows how smart he could be if he put his mind to it, but at the same time..." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the ravenette's lips quiver face softening as she stared down at her little brother, eyes glassy. "...He's young..."

"Meaning no matter how hard he tries he's still vulnerable more than most of the folks around here who have Pokemon. Adults are marginally stronger than him, they have more experience than him, more sense than him especially since he was never supposed to have this role in the first place."

Irida passed in her stirring, looking up from her broth at the warden wide-eyed and sweat dripping down the side of her face. "Wh... What do you mean?"

The warden's expression hardened and she looked as if she aged a few years at the sudden seriousness on it, brows furrowed as her frow deepened. "Do you really think they'd have someone so young in charge unless that was all they had left at the time? Unless they had to make a quick decision? Despite what you think of our people we aren't dumb, just... Indecisive..."

"Who used to be the leader before you?"

"What about you?" Irida let the spoon rest on the side of the pot, her hands now balled into fists laid at the very edge of the stove. "What do you mean what about me?"

"You're young just like him, there's no way you didn't become here without some kind of tragedy happening, so what was it?"

There was no way you don't know, the clan leader thought, feeling her hands start to shake at the memories that were brought by thinking of the incurring incident that followed. Everyone knew the Diamond Clan was present at the crowning ceremony of the new leader just like the Galaxy Team, they were all present when those burdens of being the leader were placed on her so there's no way they couldn't have known.

So then why didn't she know about Adaman then? If they were supposed to know about her, she should have known about him.

"It... It was my mother, she..." Taking a deep breath she steadied herself and gathered herself together. "She left when I was a kid, ever since then I've had to step up and take care of things despite how much I didn't want to, I had help of course but that didn't make it any easier, in fact, I think it made it harder."

"I didn't want to do it, but I didn't have much of a choice someone needed to lead the clan and that was me if so, what other help did we have?" Mai nodded along with her, understanding what she said somehow, "I guess... It's reassuring knowing someone knows how I feel or at least can relate to it..." she frowned as she stared at the brother for a few moments until she looked up.

"What about you two? I mean..." She clears her throat, starting her sentence again. "Who was it for you, sorry if that was rude."

Mai shook her head wishing away her worries. "It's fine. But, ours was a little similar to yours except it was our grandfather..."

"I wasn't the close with him, I was more independent but Adaman was so he didn't take it the best, granted, neither of us did. Since he was close with him, hell, he had started to train him as well, gave him advice, and gave him a few items here are there it was obvious who was going to be his successor as the leader I think... I think Adaman knew that but despite that he never did take any of it seriously after all it would have been years since he'd be his successor then..."

"Then...?"

Inhaling shakily, the warden looked to the side, eyes full of unwavering sorrow and regret. "...Then he had a run-in with a Pokemon, an Alpha Pokemon to be specific, he was out scavenging for supplies, medical leeks, injuries had come more rampant at the time this happened but no one had expected one of those casualties to be our own leader so... We panicked and went from there,"

"I had was given full ownership to my Munchlax which had hatched from our grandfather's Snorlax and Adaman had gotten one of his Eevee's but he was still able to keep the one he had caught himself. The wardens gathered together and made a decision, I ended up being decided as a warden promptly so I attended a few." As she continued to talk she moved to untie his ponytail, laying the band to side briefly muttering on how if she didn't do it he'd have a headache from it in the morning.

"I'll spare you the details, all that matters is that in the end is that I tried to protest it when it happened, I tried, but no one would listen to me and soon enough it was official, he was the new leader despite the fact he was practically kid when it happened, 15, and now I'm sitting here in our rival clan's territory having almost lost him..."

"As his older sister, I can only wonder how I let him get so careless..." With disappointment in her voice, she tipped her head forwards in shame.

"Just like you he's... He's not the best at this, he doesn't know everything about everything so I worry about him. If something were to happen to him I..."

She grew silent the only thing filling the air was the simmering of the broth. "...What I'm trying to say is thank you," After that, she grabbed the spare linen cloth Irida had forgotten she had thrown to the side and wiped the bit of blood off her little brother's face.

Slowly she blinked and shook her head. "...It's nothing,"

"Maybe you Pearl Clan folks aren't so bad," Irida nods back at her. "You certainly aren't too bad yourself,"

The pair of siblings left the next morning after enjoying a bowl of broth and changing the clan's leader's bandages after covering them up to shield them from the cold. After the two left Irida spent the rest of the day pondering about everything she had learned and what was more to come.

-Linebreak-

Ao3 Part 2 Part 3

[vvienne]

TODOBAKU FIC RECS

once more, with feeling by curovogel

The time loop starts with three of Bakugou’s fingers in him.

Todoroki jerks as he’s thrusted back into his body at midnight, the same seconds of the old day ticking past, and then Bakugou curls his fingers and Todoroki is jerking for another reason altogether.

Oblivious by maisierita

“Bakugou,” Todoroki said. He swallowed. Bakugou watched his throat bob. “Just to be clear, because I know I often misread social cues. Are you propositioning me?”

Bakugou stroked Todoroki’s thigh. Todoroki had been a very straightforward teenager; Bakugou didn’t know the man very well but he suspected this facet of his personality had not greatly changed. “That depends,” he said. “Would you say yes if I were?”

the lights are all out (it's a big big city) by shaekspeares

Izuku leaves for America for six months; Shouto fights his way into the Top 5 Hero Rank, takes out Godzilla, reconnects with a criminal, adopts a cat, and has several belated emotional crises (not necessarily in that order). He might also be in love with Bakugou, but that's another problem altogether.

Izuku probably shouldn't leave him to his own devices anymore.

Collateral Damage by sinistercacophony

Shibata Mizuki has very few regrets in life. Writing and posting a three thousand word takedown of Ground Zero, his shitty attitude and worse property damage record, then concluding with a video of him at age thirteen telling some poor classmate to kill himself, is not among those regrets. At this current moment, however, she is perhaps regretting the fact that her name and face specifically are attached to the article in question.

Bakugou Katsuki is shorter than she expected, is her first thought. Her second thought is, ‘Oh god, my life is in the hands of the guy whose public image I trashed not two months ago.’

Swimming in Kerosene by curovogel

Bakugou Katsuki does not have a size kink. He absolutely does not.

“Oh yeah,” Kaminari says, shrugging nonchalantly as if he was talking about the weather, “Todoroki’s got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”

Everyday by justhavesex

Todoroki doesn't know what exactly he's done wrong in his life to somehow accidentally start dating Bakugou Katsuki, but he has. Yup, has he ever.

rule 02: stay by bonnia

The vampire leans in close, expression utterly business-like in its seriousness.

And the last thing Katsuki remembers is the feeling of a tongue touching the bleeding wound at the juncture of his throat, the feeling of inexplicable anger, the fleeting thought of — this guy is so fucking dead — and then, nothing.

(or: katsuki is a vampire hunter who, thanks to a series of misfortunate circumstances and his potent werewolf's blood, somehow ends up striking a deal with the most aggravating vampire in existence)

Piña Colada by degradedpsychotic

Shouto is looking at the damn vent like he’s about to make a break for it. “It’s not, um, what it looks-” “It’s exactly what it looks like,” Katsuki cuts across, his voice losing its bite. Shouto flinches, and silence spreads between them like the frost on Shouto’s fingers.

- - -

Shouto Todoroki and Katsuki Bakugo are tired of their marriage.

Making Love at Midnight by degradedpsychotic

An ongoing collection of the events in Katsuki and Shouto's lives after they share a year of marriage counseling together.

love lies bleeding by twopinchesofcinnamon

“We could. Y’know,” Red-eyes sucks his teeth hard, as if his own words physically pain him. “Compromise.”

Shouto lets himself slip down the railing until he’s propped against it. “What do you propose?”

“Easy,” he zeroes in, contemplating, and Shouto can’t quite decipher him anymore. “Split the food and go our separate ways. We never need to speak again. Deal?”

Shouto tips his chin up at the clouds. He blows out a breath, counting to seven. “Can I get two thirds?”

Or: a loner, a wanderer, and flowers that glow in the dark.

i want you (to want me) by shaekspeares

“Fuck it,” Bakugou exhales angrily, more to himself, and then suddenly is leaning over Todoroki where he sits, arms by his sides and face close to his. "It doesn't matter what kind of weird mind game you're playing. I'll beat you no matter how much better than me you think you are."

"When you're not acting out I actually respect you a lot," Todoroki corrects mildly. It's said in part because he wishes Bakugou would get over this complex and in part because he's starting to develop a knack for making Bakugou pull the face he's pulling now. "You're really not that bad these days."

Bakugou blinks furiously, then sags abruptly, expression gone disheartened. "You've lost it. I- what's next? You gonna declare your love for me mid-battle?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Todoroki replies, instinctively, then stills, thinking about it.

“I’m fucking- going,” Bakugou continues, undeterred and jittery. “Fucking weirdo.”

He's up and gone in a hurry, casting a last disturbed glance back over his shoulder, and Todoroki stays very still, looking blankly at the sky.

Well, shit.

He thinks he may have missed a few things while redefining his feelings.

you've been denying (what you want) by curovogel

They've been hit by a sex quirk.

“I think we've been hit by a sex quirk,” Todoroki says.

escape artist by Yuu_chi

These days Katsuki’s two-step plan to avoiding his problems looks like this:

Step one: if a problem arises, the first course of action is explosions. (What? He’s an improved person not a new one, sometimes the best approach in life is the classic one.)

Step two: if step one fails, pretend like it worked. The problem is now dead to him, refuse to acknowledge its continued existence until it has the gall to try and blow up in his face.

cruel to be kind by shaekspeares

Over the course of a year, Katsuki Bakugou develops in the aftermath of the League of Villains run in. Introspection has never been his strong suit. Also, Todoroki is there- increasingly present, increasingly bothersome, and eliciting increasingly confusing feelings. Kidnapping was easier than this.

[alt: a look at todobakus evolving relationship from the perspective of one troubled lil asshole]

Neon Clocks by ChosenOfKagami (kagapop)

Bakugou Katsuki has never met a demon he couldn’t kill, until today. Now he has to put up with this one for the next four years.

A.K.A. Bakugou is a demon hunter who gets stuck in a contract with Todoroki.

what love is (i think) by capncapnk

“You should go to bed. I can take it from here.”

“That’s certainly the plan after this,” Todoroki responds, putting the bag into the evidence kit for future examination.

“You know, mine’s not too far from here—“

“I’m going to be frank with you, Bakugou,” Todoroki cuts in sternly, preventing him from finishing his sentence. “I find it hard to believe you manage to get anyone in your bed with the garbage that comes out of your mouth.”

--

In which the Wonder Duo hires Todoroki to help solve a case, and Bakugou doesn't know when to quit

fireheart by noctelle

“‘Nothing really’ wouldn’t have you freezing your ass out here stargazing, halfie,” he groused. “Spit it out.”

Here he was offering his services, though what those services entailed he himself couldn’t say, and the idiot was giving him vague, meaningless clues like, ‘Nothing really.’

Todoroki sighed, cooling down for a second just to hear Bakugou’s yelp before heating up with a self-satisfied smirk. Fucking bastard.

A Real Fucking Problem by Ellessey

“Sorry!” Todoroki says, catching Bakugou’s bare shoulders in his hands to steady him. “What are you…Bakugou, are you okay?”

“I’m fuckin’ fine,” Bakugou spits, stepping back unsteadily. “Stop groping me.”

Todoroki doesn’t look even the smallest bit affronted by this accusation, fuck him. He just squints a little. “Did you…you didn’t electrocute yourself did you? Your hair is—”

Bakugou can feel his eyes bugging out of his head, and his goddamn fucking dick starting to rise to attention again. “Of course I didn’t electrocute myself! This is my hair. It’s fine, everything’s fine, fuck.”

--

Bakugou's run-in with a libido enhancing quirk leaves him painfully horny, and in the unfortunate position of needing to own up to some very repressed feelings if he wants to break the quirk's effects. As it stands, he is not fucking fine, and there's a good chance Todoroki has something to do with it.

For Your Safety by llyn 

Todoroki needs Bakugou's protection on his trip overseas. He just doesn't know it yet.

in the business of parenthood by bonnia

“Oh,” Todoroki says.

Unfortunately, he’s noticed the lump in Katsuki’s sweater and is openly staring. Mercifully, it’s Todoroki, and he doesn’t question it.

(or: bakugou and todoroki share joint custody over a cat)

My Hero Love Story by Esselle

Shouto doesn't know why he says what he says next. He's never been good at deception, and he matches Bakugou for impulsiveness—he's just less angry about it, usually. This is why they were given a cover story.

"Yes," Shouto says, nodding once, "we're on a date."

Everyone, including Bakugou, stares at him in shock. Belatedly, Shouto lifts a finger to his mouth.

"But it's a secret," he adds. "Shhh."

--

After the two of them are spotted at a Valentine's Day hero convention while on a mission, Shouto gets the brilliant (and extremely bad) idea to pretend he and Bakugou are there on a date together. It's brilliant because it's the perfect cover story.

It's bad because he's desperately in love with Bakugou, and Bakugou has no idea.

closer than my hands have been by dabidevito (uselessphillie)

“What are you gonna do if I was lying, Shouto, huh?” Bakugou asks, weirdly quiet. “If I went home with Shitty Hair that night, if I let him fuck me in his bed? What are you gonna do with all that fire? All that jealousy you claim not to have? Hurt me? Mark me up? Make me untouchable, make sure next time Kirishima sees me, he knows it was you- ”

“Don’t provoke me.”

“Or what, hah?” Bakugou sneers, quietness evaporated in an instant. “Or you’ll actually do it?” He shakes his head, relaxes back against the lockers like Shouto isn’t pinning him there with his bodyweight. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You have no idea how to take what you fucking want.”

(Oh, but he does know how to take. Just not how to deserve.)

Or, being friends with benefits is fine by Todoroki, right up until it isn't.

Goodbye Stranger by stereonightss

“Say, Bakugou,” Todoroki says, his voice cool and quiet. “Do you ever think about sex?”

In the sterility of the agency lounge and cut by the buzz of fluorescents, the question takes Bakugou off guard. He sputters and coughs and chokes on the tea he’d been drinking, so taken aback by the question that he forgets to flinch when Todoroki gently pats his back.

“What the fuck kind of question is that, icyhot?”

“Sex,” Todoroki says flatly. “Do you ever think about it?”

-

Two idiots with an atypical disposition toward romance stumble through something like love.

The Drawing Board by strangergods

He understands, intellectually, that other people must do something with their day that doesn’t involve working out or getting beat up by super-powered mutant criminals or harassing one’s boyfriend into fucking them sideways. It’s just that he can’t quite picture doing it himself.

--

Todoroki takes up a hobby.

fist fightin' with fire just to get close to you by lelex

"Why are you like this?” Bakugou exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air.

He’s not sure if the question is rhetorical at his own expense or if Bakugou’s actually wondering—the look on his face is almost identical in both cases.

Before Shouto can even open his mouth to respond—he’s waffling between “Like what?” for maximum Bakugou-annoyance or “It’s the trauma.” because of the one time it made Kaminari laugh so hard he cried—Bakugou is already talking over him, scrubbing a hand down his face and sighing like talking to Shouto is the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“Don’t fuckin’ answer that. I know why you’re like this.”

Problem solved. Shouto says nothing.

*

Or, a temporary team-up leads to certain feelings-based revelations for both reluctantly involved parties. A conversation is also had. Sort of.

Shouto is of the opinion that they should just kiss about it before they do anything else.

on brand by dinosuns

Midoriya is honestly unsure what’s worse: the tragic fact that Todoroki Shouto can make anything look objectively incredible or the fact Kacchan has six versions of the exact same photograph saved onto his camera roll.

Nobody saves a photo that many times by accident.

Kacchan set the bar, Todoroki raised it. That is not a good thing.

House Rules by Yuu_chi

“You absolute fuckface,” Katsuki says, with all the love and adoration that makes a long lasting marriage, “you’ve bought us a fucking haunted house."

cicadas by quietmoon

Katsuki goes on a trip to visit his boyfriend's family, and overthinks the hell out of it.

burn your kingdom down by dabidevito (uselessphillie)

What of all the garden paths that Bakugou has walked before this one, all the hydrangeas that have blossomed under his careful hands? Each blue or purple or snow white petal, are they not luxuries in their own right? Shouto risks a glance to his left, at this wet and angry boy who calls him Ōji like an insult and has been cultivating Shouto’s own personal sanctuary out here in the gardens for who knows how long.

Perhaps, Shouto thinks, he might like to find out.

or, Todoroki is the Crown Prince, and Bakugou tends the imperial gardens. They fall in love, eventually.

kiss on the mouth by bakunonist

“You’re too pretty to have never been kissed before,” Bakugou huffs out stubbornly. “I mean, just look at you.” (Or, Bakugou teaches Todoroki how to kiss with tongue.)

Runnin' with the Devil by Esselle

'Shouto starts to feel it—the hum in the air, the thrumming in the ground, mixing together inside him. One last person joins the band onstage. Shouto's stomach flips over.

This guy must be the drummer. He's got a riot of blond hair partially covered by a faded grey beanie. Multiple piercings in each ear. Black, low-slung jeans with ragged holes in the knees. Black, sleeveless Van Halen t-shirt, the standard Douchebag Cut, made for the gun show. This can be forgiven. His biceps beg to be put on display. It would be a crime to cover them.

Holy shit, Shouto is glad he came out tonight.

Oh, he thinks. "Is that Bakugou?"

"Yeah," Kirishima says, "that's Bakugou." '

--

As the son of a huge rockstar, Shouto has grown up determined to escape being signed to his dad's record label. When he's accepted to a fine arts university to study the violin, three things become clear: he's free, he's tragically awkward, and he's thirsty as hell. Now that he can do whatever—or whoever—he wants, he doesn't know where to start. But when Bakugou Katsuki catches his eye from behind a drum set at a concert, Shouto starts to learn that making bad decisions can feel pretty damn good.

la la lost you by wineglass (bakunonist)

It has been four years since Shouto joined the League of Villains. (It has been four years since Shouto broke Bakugou’s heart, the first time.)

where there's smoke, there's fire by lelex

It’s nice, to let loose. To not worry about how his quirk will affect the bystanders and other heroes around him. To know that Bakugou can take it, that Bakugou wants it. Wants whatever Shouto will give him.

Wants all of it.

Even when “all of it” is Shouto encasing his fist in a glove of ice and repetitively attempting to smash it into Bakugou’s face as hard as he can. When it’s them frantic in their attempts to grind each other into the training room floor.

*

They spar. Things devolve from there.

cats do not orbit the moon by bakunonist

Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t do anything that isn’t for the sake of total victory. Luckily Todoroki Shouto makes him feel absolutely invincible. (The Everyone Thinks We’re Dating But We’re Not Even Friends AU)

honesty is like a kiss on the lips (come closer and I'll tell you exactly how it is) by lelex

After the League of Villains incident, Katsuki is just trying to keep it together. Things are slipping through the cracks and he's on his hands and knees trying not to let any of his responsibilities out of his sight. Most of the time he can't bear to be touched, especially from behind or anywhere near the back of his neck. Which means his regularly scheduled haircuts are absolutely out of the question. It's fine, he's coping, he's dealing with it—his hair grows out long, longer than it's ever been, and that's fine too.

Until it isn't. But Todoroki being in the right place at the wrong time in the communal boys bathroom as Katsuki is shaving his entire head in a fit of late night mania might just be the solution—one that spans years—that neither of them were looking for.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[rosesareviolentlyread]

Bakery Box Boy Intro

CW: BBU, modern slavery, hypothermia, vague past references to abuse, this is a pretty light one WC: 1486

This is based on a post I can’t find again about a bakery that gets a box boy! This series will mostly be focused on recovery & fluff, that nice angst that comes with the struggle to heal. Jasper is a refurbished box boy, and I might do some pieces or flashbacks of his previous owners, but otherwise this will mostly be a comf/recovery series. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! I’ve got a few pieces drafted for this already that I’ll be putting out over the next few days. Thanks to @moose-teeth and @whumpywhumper for beta reading!

847650 felt so, so cold. It was all he felt now, besides tired. The bindings on his wrists, holding them in place in the box as he tumbled and shook and turned in transport, blended in, just another piece of the block of ice that made up his body.

It hurt less though, now. The shivering as rain seeped into the box, soaking around him until he feels cocooned in dampness that freezes first against his skin and then in his skin. It had made its way through him like a serpent, moving through his limbs until its icy poison made his ribs tighten like a vice around his chest, making it hard to breathe. After that, it seemed to slither so deep in him that it was him. Icy numbness incapable of anything. It felt like peace, somehow, leaving him with nothing to do much more than wait, no thoughts besides fighting the drowsy feeling for a reason it was getting harder and harder to remember. 

The frozen world that had become safe, and comfortable, abruptly shattered as he felt himself tipped, the world up-ending himself. He would’ve cried out, if it weren’t for the way he was slammed into the side of the box, pushing out his shallow breath into coils of frosted nothing in the air, setting his skin alight again with pins and needles of agony. 

He couldn’t be aware of anything, even as the world came flooding back in through the sounds of voices and rain and road and movement. It was just a blur, bookended by a second thump as his box slammed harder, throwing him against the other side in a way that felt like it shattered every bone in his body. Still, no sound came, no movement, as he existed only to suffer in his crystallized cocoon of a body. 

For long moments, his brain scrambled, struggling even to find the focus to breathe, let alone listen to the sound of swearing and latches being undone. 

He could only find that as worthy of focus, when the damp walls were unwrapped, and warmth flooded in like mist, sending his body in further pain as molten awareness filled the comfortable cold, pushing it out of him. 

Someone was talking, someone important and 847650 struggled to focus on why. 

“Oh my god, you’re soaked”  The words were spoken with horror, sending panic coursing through 847650 as he recognized the tell-tale tone of a mistake.

This is his owner, his owner towering above him, gray hair and pinched face and shaking hands. The sight makes the breath catch in his throat. He had fucked up. He had fucked up for his new owner before he’d even left his box. 

Adjusting to the light, he can see now it’s a woman, an older one. Hair with more gray than blonde sits loose on her head, damp strands hanging limp. Wrinkles and smile lines dot her face like the memories of a life lived long, but not easily. But her expression. Her expression is stern, and immediately recognizable to 847560, down to his still cold bones. 

Upset.

Fix it, his brain screams from a place of terror, and he tries to force out apologies on dry frozen lips, but it only comes as a wheeze, a whimper squeezed into raw air. 847650 shakes now, and tells himself its from the cold. But memories slam against the walls in his mind, sending shivers down his body. He wants to wilt away, but pulling away from an owner’s touch is forbidden. He isn’t sure how much he even could in the touches that feel gentle but only because his skin is like a shield of icy rubber still. His body feels stiff, unmoving.

Which isn’t good, because the next thing she says is, “Can you get out of there for me? These old bones aren’t as strong as they used to be.” A hand is outstretched, a confusing contradiction to her words. 

It’s like moving the arms of a doll, rather than his, as 847650 twists, putting his arms on the lip and trying to balance on the prickling sensation to push himself up. But all he succeeds is falling out of the box with a pained yelp as the wood slips out from the barely controlled limbs. 

But instead of the ground, warm arms catch his shaking body. “I gotcha big- well, you really aren’t that big, are ya? Just a skinny bean pole.” He looks up and her smile is tight, and strained, the words nervous. 

847650 twists out of her grasp until he’s all the way on the floor. “‘m so’y” the words finally come on numb lips, as he sees the big wet spot on her sweater, the one that had felt so soft and is now covered in dirty rain water. “I-I ‘an do it” He tries to push himself up, but the lingering effects of the drugs, the cold, leave his head spinning, and he slips in the water spilled on the wood floor, landing back down with a thump that sends another jolt of pain. It’s more intense now, the warm air having soaked away some numbness, but only enough that everything feels like pins and needles again. Tears prick his eyes, and he squeezes them shut as he tries to breath through the pain with a whimper.

“Oh shhh, shhh, it’s ok. Oh dear- I’ve never done this before, I just- you stay right there, I’ll be back.” It’s a blessedly easy command as the footsteps retreat, but he can’t stop the screaming in his brain about how much he has messed up. How many mistakes he’s made in painfully short minutes. He tries to pull himself together, to think of what to say, but all he feels is white terror. 

It’s too soon when his owner comes back...and drops something warm on top of him. Gentle hands rub through the fabric, soaking up the damp and cold as she coos gently with sushing noises at him. 

“There, let’s get you all nice and dry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think you were supposed to come until next week.” 

847650 doesn’t understand. Is this a precursor to punishment? He was a week early causing problems, being bad before he even was for this owner. But she doesn’t sound mad. She sounds...nice. 

Maybe..maybe she wasn’t his owner? Maybe she was another pet? But she didn’t have a collar, and he’d never met a pet this old. It was so hard to just think right now, with his brain feeling like it’d been left in the freezer.

“A-are you ‘y ow’er?” words tumble out ill-formed, even as he tries to enunciate. To be right. 

The hands stop, adjusting the towel so he can see her more properly, and he struggles to not shake more in fear at the loss of such foreign kindness. “Oh, oh, I’m really bungling this up, aren’t I? I’m sorry, my name’s Adele Brooks, yes, I’m your owner. But, you should call me Della.” 

And then. And then, she smiles at him, a real smile, without a trace of anger or sadism, so warm he feels his limbs tingle, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“W-wha’e’er you wan’ i’ ‘a be Miss ‘ella.” It was a risk, but he didn’t want to seem rude, using a nickname for an owner. It was unfathomable. He was already rude enough forcing her to dry him off because his body wouldn’t cooperate. 

“I- oh, right. They make me name you, don’t they? I read it online, thank god, since it looks like the booklet is ruined.” He feels enough of his limbs to manage sitting up, feeling her drape the towel around him. It’s...sad. To lose the touch, some deep part of him aching for reasons he doesn’t know why at the loss. 

She pulls a face, squinting at him. For a second his heart skips before he sees her smile return. “How about...Jasper. You look like a Jasper to me. What do you think?”

Does he look like a Jasper? What does a Jasper look like? He didn’t know if he did, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. So, instead, he just nods, hesitantly, hoping that’s enough of an answer. 

“Well then, Jasper, why don’t we get you a bit more warmed up? Hmmm, what would you think about a warm bath? I thought they’d..well, have you come more...decent, but you look like you might fit some old things I’ve got laying around.” The hand reaches out again, an offering, and gently pulls him - Jasper - to his swaying, numb feet. He feels light-headed still, shaky, but he determines he will not mess this up. Not make anymore mistakes.

Not if he gets to keep feeling the foreign sense of warmth that had touched his chest with his owner’s smile.

[katsukikitten]

Warning : 18 plus AU, adult themes, collage au

Part one Part two

"Mina, I really don't see why I have to wear this Bikini, I prefer a cutout  one piece." You say sipping your iced coffee as Mina packs her beach bag with sponges, rags, and tons of bottled water. You wait impatiently by the door of your shared, temporary dorm. 

"Becauuuusssse, I already told you! That Instagram post I made of all of us blew up, even with my large following. Remember how many people we brought in last time?"

"Yes, we made 45% more profit…" You bite at the inside of your lip as you think, adjusting your white t-shirt so it sat nicely above the black bikini bottoms. You weren't one to argue with numbers.

"Well now with the combined efforts with the shirtless boys we can actually use that allowance you got us for unlimited kegs." 

"No, Mina new windows and installation. They said the house was hot, which means winter will be brutal." You roll your eyes, "Unless you want to freeze this winter, personally I have no problem with freezing." 

She giggles at your joke, pulling you along as if you were the reason for being late instead of her. Mina spies Uraraka and Jiro waving them towards the two of you before she whispers softly to you.  

"Just, try to have fun today no matter what." 

You wondered if that was an omen, a jinx or if she already knew what lied ahead. Either way you would not being having too much fun. 

The four of you arrive just before the first customer's begin to line up and already you want to organize. Counting the heads until you see a certain ash blonde causing your normally cold blood to run hot. Too hot. 

"Mina?" Your voice dips low, as ice dances in the air around you, "What is he doing here?" 

"Who?" She plays dumb as the other two women greet the group of men. Harsh garnet cut to you as you steel your glare. 

"Oi, Icy Brat. What are you fucking doing here?" His voice grates your nerves and for a moment you see red. Thinking of freezing him and going about your day. Instead you choose to give him the cold shoulder, averting your gaze. 

"We're doing pairs for washing today. I'm glad you could make it" Kirishima beams, coming in for a hug, you take a step back offering him a polite smile. His smile doesn't lose an ounce of shine, it makes you respect him a bit more. 

"I'll handle the cash and direct cars then." You say pointing to the box, ready to grab the fanny pack and head to the street. Denki grabs onto you gently, releasing you as if you were hot to the touch.  

"No it has to be a boy girl ratio. I promise the outcome will be worth it, please!" This won't be the first or last time both Denki and Mina beg for your help. You look around at what must be their subconscious pairings. Jiro calls Denki over as the first car pulls up, Kirishima seems to wait patiently, his eyes lingering on bubble gum pink skin, while Sero is already guiding cars with Uraraka in tow. 

That leaves you and Bakugou who has his arms crossed, sneering at the customers. 

Your hope dwindles that today would be a good day.

Sero points to a blue car indicating that this was going to be yours to share with the hot head. Sighing you waltz over in your black wedge heels and begin your work. Bakugou looms over the wet car, sponge in hand. The two of you work in silence until the third car, a red coupe with a couple inside about to receive the show of their bi lives. 

They comment on the tension they feel between the two of you right away, they notice the glares and lack of communication. Even making small jokes about how funny it would be to see one of those cliche water fights between the two of you. 

"Icebrat, you're doing it fuckin wrong." Bakuogu barks, you ignore him, continuing to wash the car. Anger burns in his chest, never understanding why you acted so high and mighty. 

"Gonna give me the cold shoulder are ya?" He growls, eyeing the dirty water before a thought crosses his mind, "Love to see you ignore this."

His voice is sadistic before he throws the dirty water across the car onto your frame, suds and water cling to your white t, showcasing the black bikini top underneath. Your temper spikes enough that your shirt collects frost at the seams before you slowly remove it. Glaring at the hot head when you're done.  

"Fuck." The couple say aloud grabbing onto each other as they watch the scene unfold. Your powerful frame guiding you with a deadly clack of your heels. Your hands find the bucket of water Mina and Kirishima were using, your fingers tap the bucket and the water forms a film of ice at the top. Meanwhile Bakugou goes to "correct" whatever mistake you were making. The couple's eyes watch the unsuspecting Bakugou reach up their hood to clean a particular spot before water is dumped over his spiky blonde hair. 

You tap the back of his shirt making it stiff with frost, when he moves to face you it shatters away from his body. Revealing the sculpted plans of his abs and the scars of untold stories. 

If it weren't for all of that ice water Bakugou would have blown you sky high, he comes close to you. Huffing as his eyes become wild and wide. All you offer him is a deadly polite smile as you stare him in the face, unbothered and unphased by his towering presence. 

"What? I was only getting the spot you missed." When he says nothing you allow yourself to relish the silence, placing your hand on his shoulder capping it in obvious ice. 

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder now?" The question is nonchalant before you signal to Sero for another car as you walk to get more supplies. Sero whistles at a bristling Bakugou before leaning into the driver's side window to give directions. Before he can ask for a tip the driver is offering a twenty dollar bill while his eyes are flickering between yourself and Bakugou. 

"Mark us down as a regular." He sighs as his girlfriend does too.  Sero happily tucks the money into the fanny pack.

"Will do." 

Somehow the two of you manage quips and water pranks back and forth without killing each other. Making it through the long day but earning a high amount of tips. Mina clings to you as you count cash, sweat on her brow as the sun settles into an unbearable afternoon heat. 

"Uuugghhh how much longer mom?" She asks, sighing at your icy touch. You roll your eyes as you count the last stack. 

"Not too much hush." You place the money into the lock box, wondering how the hell the eight of you made so much money in just seven hours. 

"But I'm starving! Plus we still have to pick our rooms!" 

"You're that excited to move all of our items into what was a male dominated space?" You ask coolly as Jiro and Uraraka lean against the collapsible table. 

"I'm stoked." Jiro comments, her earjacks twirling themself as her eyes wander.

"It will be nice to be settled before the fall term." Uraraka sighs looking down at her phone, idly scrolling through her socials. The two women nod as the guys approach. You purposely ignore the hot head and allow your eyes to meet Denki's, although it takes him a few long seconds to meet your gaze. He was a little preoccupied with a black and white checkered bikini with matching Van's. 

"Earth to space cadet." Sero nudges his ribs subtly pointing to you as you gaze at him as a teacher would a student caught daydreaming. He clears his throat. 

"Well it seems your theory has paid off. We've made quite a bit of cash today." You lock the box before standing, reluctantly adding, "The pairing of female and male will be standard from here on out. Although we should only need a few more fundraising events depending on what the house needs. Which I trust won't be too much."

Three of the four boys shared a concerned look while the fourth knows how bitter your words were going to taste.

"We'll meet you at the house." 

❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥

The four of you cannot deny the excitement you feel as yall walk up to the historical home. The upper balcony seems to wrap around the back but only partially in the front while the porch below stretches across the front of the home. The siding had been repainted and the banisters above and below are wrapped in what will be sparkling lights at night. A stately set of double doors catch your eye before they yawn open by the hands of Denki Kaminari who is trying not to visibly sweat. 

"Home sweet home!" Denki steps aside to let the four of you in with your belongings. Your eyes dissect the place as you press your tongue into your bottom lip, trying your best to keep your cool. This place needed a lot of what you deemed necessities. You notice the familiar dining room table as the foldable card table they had at the carwash surrounded by the cheap camping chairs you thought you had replaced. 

The only decent looking room was the living room and even then it was only thanks to you. The leather arm chairs were placed haphazardly around the new sectional you had delivered as it circled around the TV you demanded from the dean.

Denki watches your manicured nails rap against your skin as you think.  

"The window installation and insulation went smoothly?" 

"Yes." Sero answers as your eyes wander around the room landing on your mattress and platform bed frame resting against the wall in the nook by the study turned bedroom. 

"We didn't know where to put it since the bedrooms aren't sorted out for you lovely ladies just yet." Kirishima smiles but your mind isn't on why it is there. No, your mind is wondering why there is only one.

"Was I the only one to order my mattress?" You look towards your sorority who holds a guilty look before you glance at the three men who mirror the women. 

"Well I guess that is for the better. We can spend extra on them now anyway." 

"Are you sure? I thought the budget was tight." Denki asks, earning a rare boasting smile from you. You make your way into the kitchen and six ducklings follow. Your nail taps the stainless steel of a high end commercial fridge. 

"It was tight before but not after I got this." Smile remaining on your lips as you speak, "It was 3,000 off due to some cosmetic dents but I got it as a donation. An alumni donation." 

"Wow for free?!" Denki and Sero ask in unison, amazed by your skill. 

"For free boys." 

"Wow, Bakugou might love that fridge even more now. Every time he cooks he mentions how great it is." Kirishama laughs but a certain name causes you to freeze to the tiled floor. 

"Bakugou…" You turn to Mina with a deadly glare as ice crystals form in your hair, "As in Bakugou lives here?!" 

The silence echoes throughout the kitchen and all that can be heard is the hum of the fancy fridge. Just as you're about to snap, Denki intervenes. 

"Uh. Did you want to talk bedrooms?" 

"YES!" The girls yell pulling the boys back into the safety of the living room as you collect yourself for a moment. 

God you hated the effect his name had on you but even more so how stupid you felt. As if this was some half baked plan to leave out the important detail that the man you loathed most would be under the same roof. Finally after a few deep breaths the ice in your hair melts and you step into the living room with a level head. Reminding yourself that this house was going to be rent free. You would have a full sized kitchen and your own bedroom, this was a much better option than the dorms even if it meant Bakugou came with it. 

"There is one bedroom upstairs not claimed, the rest of us guys are up there too. Then that door next to the nook is the study, it's not huge but it has a lot of shelves and big enough to fit a queen. Um there are two bedrooms in the basement but it's not totally dark down there. Plus the second living room with the pong table is down there. What else?" Denki taps his finger to his lips, "Oh half bath is here. Full bathroom is upstairs and there is technically another full bath in the basement, it's just more 'open concept'." 

"Open concept?" Jiro asks, earjacks perking with curiosity. 

"He means no walls. Just a toilet and a shower head chilling next to the laundry sink and washer, dryer." Sero explains, again you tongue the inside of your bottom lip. 

"Girl huddle!" Mina shouts, pulling the three of you into a small circle, "I personally really would like one of the bedrooms in the basement. I'm loud and I wouldn't mind the late hours that come with the pong table. I am the QUEEN after all." 

"I want a bedroom in the basement too. You know my music gets super loud!" Jiro pipes in. Uraraka wants to say something but politely waits for you, instead you gesture for her to speak first. 

"I...I would be much more comfortable in the study. I don't mind it being small." Her brown eyes bore holes into the floorboards as you read between the lines. 

"I would be much more comfortable on a different level than all four men." Is what she means, you sigh internally, swearing this will be the last compromise you make for these women. 

"Then I'll take the room upstairs." You state before telling the boys the arrangements. You look at your watch to check the time. 

"If we leave now in the college van and trailer I borrowed we could get everyone else's mattresses tonight." You look around the room before asking, "So where is Bakugou anyway?" 

The three boys glance at one another, Kirishima speaks up. 

"He had a….previous obligation." He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. You narrow your eyes. 

"Let me call him. This is more important than whatever he is doing. It clearly isn't school related." You hold out your hand for the red head's phone, he pulls it from his pocket reluctantly. 

It rings before going to voicemail but that's never stopped you before. You call until he picks up screaming into the receiver. 

"WHAT THE FUCK I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING CALL SHITTY HAIR!!!" 

"Enough with the dramatics, what could be more important than your other roommates deciding bedrooms in the house?" 

"Is that?!" A female voice screeches your name once she figured out who you are, "Listen here slut, I'm in the middle of getting my back broken and…" 

"Bakugou we are leaving in fifteen minutes. I advise that you get here on time. Otherwise we will leave without you." You interrupt the angry booty call. 

"And if I fucking don't, Icebrat?" You roll your eyes at the nickname as you sigh. 

"Then I'll spend your portion of the allowance on something else. Fifteen minutes." 

"OI!" Bakugou shouts before a woman's voice comes across the speaker.

"Stop ignoring me bitch and stop talking to my man!"

"Oh sweetheart your 'man' is only going to your place cause he sleeps on a crusty ass futon not because he actually likes you." Your voice is honeyed in venom before dipping low, "Bakugou be home or you forfeit the fucking funding for your bed."  

With that you hang up, passing Kirishima's phone back to him. Everyone shares a glance as they remember just how icy you can be, there was no threat in your voice. Only a promise to Bakugou. 

"Sero be a dear and help me take my mattress up." You ask lifting the box with the unbuilt frame with ease. Suddenly skittish Sero takes a moment to grab your mattress as Denki helps him bring it up the stairs but abandons Sero by the bathroom at the top of the stairs, forcing the tape hero to face this challenge alone. Sero only hopes the room neighboring yours is shut and he sighs with relief when it is. 

He helps you set the items into your room that is located in the front of the house.  You take in the view of the perfectly sized yet small bedroom. Two large sets of sliding doors that meet in the corner force you to place your bed against what you assume is the shared wall of one of your roommates. Sero swallows thickly as he realizes just why Denki abandoned him. He can see it in your eyes, the curiosity sparkling as you turn to face him, you're going to inquire about the room next door. 

Please Gods do not ask him. 

Don't fucking asking him please. 

"Who do I owe the pleasure?" You smile sweetly, praying it is Kirishima or Sero at the very least. Hell you'd even take Denki who sings loudly off key, as long as it wasn't Bakugou. You watch the raven hair man's face fall, his dark eyes avoiding yours as he answers and yet somehow you already knew. 

"Ba-Bakugou's" The room drops twenty degrees as the floor freezes beneath your feet, snow floating gently to the floor as Sero's breath puffs in the new found tundra. 

"SERO I NEED YOUR HELP MAN! JIRO'S DRUM SET AND AMPS ARE HEAVY!" Denki calls from downstairs, saving Sero's hide. The man rushes and catches himself from slipping before he practically jumps down the entire set of stairs. 

"How did she take it?" Mina whispers before following Sero's eyes to where your bedroom should be. Urakaka comes from the study with snowflakes dusting her hair and a shiver. 

"Well at least I'll never be hot in the summer." 

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Celebrate.

Shigaraki x f!Reader; NSFW.

Tomura had no idea what you were planning for Christmas. The day drew ever nearer, and you spent an abnormal amount of time worrying about overstepping boundaries or being an annoyance with your ideas. It’s not like you were officially dating – although with Tomura, you were sure that there would never be a talk about this. The strange state of your relationship clashed with your desire to celebrate with him. It took one casual comment from Kurogiri about Tomura’s tradition to spend his time drinking at the bar to convince you to at least try.

True to Kurogiri’s word, you found him at the bar, hunched over a half-empty tumbler of whiskey and an equally drained bottle beside it. The monitor behind him was switched off. Was he really sitting here by himself, without even his mentor to keep him company?

Upon seeing you at the door, Tomura’s muted expression morphed into standoffish distrust. He couldn’t fool you, though. You caught on to the way his posture straightened, the way he leaned ever so slightly towards you, and the sudden fire in his eyes.

“You don’t look very festive,” you lightheartedly said in greeting, carefully holding a mug in one hand and a wrapped box in another as you walked over to him. “At least wear a santa hat if you’re going to down an entire bottle of whiskey by yourself.”

Tomura glared at you from beneath a curtain of messy bangs hanging over his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was thinking we could spend the evening together.”

“Is that so?” he grumbled sarcastically. “Fucking your tight little hole a few times has made you pretty damn presumptive.”

You frowned at his crude statement, and refused to take the bait. Tomura was always at his worst when he was feeling upset. His reaction to your suggestion confirmed your suspicions. “Don’t be so sour. Look – “ You placed the mug on the countertop, and set the box beside it. “I brought you some hot chocolate. If you behave, you might even get to see what’s in this box.” You smirked at him. “You might like it.”

“Is it some sex thing?”

“It is not,” you deadpanned, settling down onto the seat beside him and resting your head on one hand as you looked at him expectantly.

He stared at you with those owlish red eyes, still trying to discern your motive. When the battle of wits had deemed you victorious, Tomura glanced down at the mug of hot chocolate. Holding his index finger out, he brought it closer to him for inspection. The warm glow of the lighting made it seem as though his gaze had softened while he eyed the drink. It might have been cute if not for the fact that he reached for his tumbler and dumped the remaining whiskey into your carefully crafted, whip cream-topped perfection.

You covered your face and sighed as he chugged the alcoholic concoction. At least he hadn’t kicked you out yet, right?

Tomura set the mug down and looked at the box. A bit of whipped cream graced the corner of his mouth, and you reached out to wipe it with your thumb. He narrowed his eyes at your approaching fingers, yet stood still to see what you would do. You smiled as your thumb came away with the remnants of whipped cream, and when you licked the sweetness away, Tomura’s gaze swept over your lips.

“Want to see what I got you?” you lightly asked, sliding the box over into view.

Tomura quietly stared at your mouth until you busied yourself with opening the container. Curiosity won over lust, and you felt a burst of happiness when he inched a little closer beside you and peered inside.

It was a small yule log cake topped with vanilla frosting, thin slices of chocolate, and strawberries. Nothing too fancy – you didn’t want to seem too corny with gamer-themed sweets. That’s an idea you were saving for next year, or maybe even Valentine’s Day.

“Ta-daaa,” you sang, reaching over the countertop to rummage around for some utensils. Your fingers hit cold steel, and you happily produced two forks as you settled back into your seat. “Merry Christmas, Tomura.”

He accepted a fork and wordlessly speared it into the cake. You were not bothered by his rudeness; the fact that he delved right in meant you had done something right. A vibrant red strawberry was calling your name. You plucked it off by its leaves and bit into the delicious fruit, enjoying the burst of flavor on your tongue as you licked the juice dripping from the bitten end.

A strange feeling washed over your side while you finished the strawberry. You glanced over at Tomura with your lips wrapped around the remnants of the fruit. His eyes were practically boring holes into you, his fork paused in his mouth as he leered at you.

“I thought this wasn’t a sex thing,” he said after sliding the fork out, swiping another piece of cake into his open mouth.

You were taken aback by his accusation. “What are you talking about?” you asked, ruefully blushing at whatever thoughts must be circulating through his head.

Tomura rolled his eyes. “You’re eating that strawberry like you’re sucking a dick.”

“That is so not my intention, you pervert!”

“And the log cake? Come on.” He threw you a wry look. “Obvious reference to how huge my cock is.”

“Oh my god.”

He mockingly sighed, an arrogant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Setting the fork aside, he said, “If you wanted to fuck, you could have just said so – “ and grabbed a strawberry by its leaves. “Although I do appreciate the effort.”

You frowned, hoping you looked every bit as unimpressed as you felt. Even when he brought the strawberry to your lips, your mouth remained stubbornly closed.

“Open.”

You cursed the twinge of pleasure that coursed through you at his commanding tone. Tomura’s smile curled downward as he pressed the strawberry a little firmer. Slowly, you parted your lips to let the tip slide inside, holding his stare while you let him shove the fruit deeper into your mouth. Before he could figure out a way to make you gag on it, you bit into the strawberry and quickly swallowed the sweet flesh, quirking a brow at his inscrutable expression.

His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment, before he looked at the remnants of the fruit still held between thumb and forefinger. “We’re supposed to kiss now, right?” he grumbled, blushing lightly as he looked back at you. It was almost accusatory, like you were somehow responsible for his strange behavior.

“Are we?” you coyly replied.

His nose scrunched up cutely as he waved the leafy stem of the strawberry. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Mistletoe. Come here.”

How can someone so crass be so endearingly romantic? You entertained the thought of teasing him, but something about the way he reached out to grasp your thigh … the way he leaned in almost imperceptibly, glaring at you in challenge even as his eyes flitted between your lips and somewhere beyond your shoulder –

You placed a hand over his own on your thigh, cupped the back of his head, and brought him forward to meet your lips. Almost immediately his tongue delved into your open mouth, and you felt his hold on your thigh tighten as you tasted each other’s sweet flavor. The faux mistletoe was thrown away in favor of trying to wrap his arm around your waist, and Tomura growled into the kiss as he forced you out of your seat to stand between his legs. You allowed him to manhandle you, sucking his lips and feeling every rough crack and scar along your tongue as you cupped his face to tip it up to your searching mouth.

You hadn’t even intended the evening to end up like this. You just wanted to spend some quiet time with Tomura. But really, you should have known better. When have you ever had a platonic moment with this man?

He pushed your shirt up, breaking the kiss to murmur, “Should have come naked,” and coaxed you to toss the clothing aside. His hands were everywhere, sliding over your soft skin as he left wet open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

You were quickly growing warm and needy from his desperate touches. The moment you unclipped your bra, Tomura roughly groped your breasts, twisting your stiff nipples and nipping your sensitive skin. You were arching your back in encouragement when he suddenly leaned away, and you dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation as he blindly reached behind you for something.

His hand came back with a dollop of frosting coating two fingers. You bit your lip and allowed him to rub the white substance all over your nipple. Tomura took his time, lightly pinching your stiff bud as the strange cold sensation contrasted with his warm fingers.

“This is the only gift I need,” he rasped, and shoved his sticky fingers into your waiting mouth as he leaned in to suckle the frosting off your skin.

You moaned around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them and enjoying the electric jolts of pleasure that shot straight to your core with each harsh suck of his mouth. He was relentless, scraping his teeth over your nipple and loudly sucking everywhere he could reach. And when he started questing upwards, dragging his hot tongue over your breast to spread his saliva all over you, you could only dig your fingers into his hair and urge him to continue, whimpering his name as best you could with his fingers still in your mouth.

There was a fine line between Tomura’s tongue feeling heavenly or like a huge slug. But you loved it when he was gross with you. All the more reason to entice him into showering with you later.

Tomura yanked his fingers out of your mouth once he had finished sucking a blossoming red bruise onto your throat. “Turn around,” he breathed, wasting no time in staggering onto his feet as you quickly shoved your pants down your legs and braced yourself on the countertop with your ass perked up for his convenience.

He stepped onto your bunched up pants and underwear to bring them to the floor and slapped your ass to shed your last article of clothing. You moaned at the delicious sensation and followed his order, spreading your legs as wide as he directed you to.

The feeling of his fingers delving between your folds briefly knocked you back into reality. “That better not be – “

Your head was shoved down onto the wooden surface of the counter, and Tomura forced his fingers into your mouth again. The lingering taste of sweetness calmed your nerves. “I’m not stupid,” he growled, and the fingers slipping through your wet folds suddenly speared into your cunt. You let out a choked gasp, and he laughed freely. “Hey, hey, was the vanilla frosting a euphemism for my cum?”

You attempted to mutter a muffled uh-uh, but the slow, torturous drag of his fingers in and out of your clenching hole left you a drooling mess.

“You don’t even need to think about getting fucked, do you?” His fingers slipped out of you with a wet suctioning sound to play with your clit. “You just naturally think of perverted shit. Such a perfect little slut.”

You rolled your hips to meet his languid strokes, bunching your hands into fists as you pathetically whined for more.

Tomura paused. You could hear his labored breathing – this must be affecting him more than he let on. Your pussy throbbed from the loss of his touch as he fumbled with his pants, and you felt a trail of juices pulse out of your hole when his hard cock slipped through your folds.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned onto your back as he humped his cock between your thighs. “You just need to think about me,” he whispered, needy and breathless. “You do, don’t you? Because you’re here … “ You sucked in a lungful of breath when he took his fingers out of your mouth and curled his arm around your torso to grasp a breast. “You wanted to be here. With me.”

“I did, Tomura – “ His name tapered off into a moan when he shoved his cock inside you. “I – I wanted to – mmmhh – to – aaah – “

Each word hitched in your throat as he thrusted deeper into you, dragging the head of his cock over a spot that made your toes curl and your skin flush from pleasure. “Wanted what?” he demanded, fondling your breast as he kissed your shoulder blade.

“I wanted … to make you happy,” you admitted, thankful that he could not see your shy expression.

And you could not see his. The way his eyes widened, the blush that colored his cheeks, all you could perceive was his arms tightening around you as he hid his face in your neck and jackhammered into you with such ferocity that you could barely hold yourself up, crying out from the onslaught of sensations.

His balls slapped heavily over your clit with each thrust, spreading your combined juices all over your thighs. The dingy bar was small enough as it was, and the humid smell of sex and sweat quickly permeated the stale atmosphere. 

For whatever reason, your lust-addled mind thought to glance at the monitor that stood watch over the bar. Its black screen reflected back at you, giving you an unobstructed view of Tomura fucking you from behind like an animal in heat. You stared at the reflection, transfixed, cheek pressed to the counter and mouth open as you moaned and drooled and watched his cock disappear inside you with each thrust.

You still could not see Tomura’s face. But you could feel his wiry arms around you, the firm bite on your shoulder as he whined from impending release, the wet drag of his tongue on your skin, the tender way he nuzzled his face along your throat and moaned your name –

Your release was blinding and sudden, tearing a drawn out cry from you. Tomura followed in short order, holding your slack frame up as he pressed his hips flush against yours and spilled himself inside your cunt. His panting tickled your ear, and he grinded himself for a moment longer, until his final spurts died out and he could focus on breathing again.

He left you slumped against the countertop with a slap to your ass. You let out a weak groan and shivered at the feeling of his cum oozing out of your hole and trailing down your thighs.

Tomura reappeared beside you, and you struggled to stand straight, holding the counter for leverage. You met his eyes, curiously analyzing his unreadable expression. “You’ve put me in a festive mood,” he began, adding a sarcastic emphasis to his words. “So I’ll let you choose if you want to be selfish or sacrifice your comfort.”

“What are you talking about – “

“Too late, I’m making the decision.” You jolted as he suddenly pressed a cloth between your legs. “Stay still.”

You did, for whatever good that did you. Never once had Tomura ever cleaned you up after sex. This really was a true Christmas miracle, but you were not foolish enough to break this strange mood with japes at his expense. It was kind of nice to feel him carefully trail the dark cloth up your inner thighs to wipe the cum away.

It lingered at your crotch, pressed up against your drenched folds. You looked up at him, and he stared down at you, and you were so damn ready for him to kiss you. But the bastard broke eye contact, threw the cloth onto the counter, and sat down without another word to you.

“Are you really just gonna go back to eating right now?”

Tomura yanked the cake over to him and helped himself to a forkful. “I’m hungry,” he mumbled as he chewed. “Fucking you is a whole workout. I deserve this.”

You were ready to bitch at him, but the fire died out without explanation, replaced by a feeling you were not ready to admit to yourself yet. 

“You do,” you quietly said, and ignored the way he looked up at you, that mixture of uncertainty and guardedness. No, you paid no mind to it, not while you brushed his bangs away from his forehead as he ate his cake, and certainly not when you pressed a kiss to the rough scars.

 And when you sat down to join him, leaning over to steal a piece of cake and popping it into your mouth, you did not pay any mind to the way he seemed to stare at you after the kiss, silent and stiff.

 ____________________________

Kurogiri found quite a mess waiting for him the next day. Several bottles of alcohol left in various stages of emptiness, an open box with hints of frosting and strawberry stems, a mug drained of its contents, and two forks to finish off the visual story. He sighed, hoping this crime scene meant you had succeeded in lifting Tomura’s spirits.

His bar rag had been taken from its usual place and left discarded on the counter. Kurogiri nearly touched it before the voice of his master rung out from the monitor.

”You do not want to touch that, Kurogiri.”

Everything on the counter was promptly disposed of through a portal.

[hey-its-nonny]

Chapter Seven

soooo before you try and murder me for that cliffhanger, know i’m sorry for that ending (not really lol) 😅 also, a note, there’s a bit of a “recap” at the beginning. it’ll be in italics

warnings: this chapter starts off with (in my opinion) pretty heavy angst, has like one(?) swear word, and will probably end with a bit of spice? not nsfw tho, we don’t do that here.

UGH i talk a lot. sorry.

enjoy!!

~~~~~~ You were both panting, faces nearly inches apart as the crowd roared with applause. You both laughed, smiles bright. Careful not to spoil the moment, you leaned in, Legolas doing the same until your lips just barely brushed.

You let your eyes start to flutter shut until you felt Legolas hesitate.

In his deep blue eyes, you saw that same pain and sorrow in his eyes in replacement on the joy in them seconds ago. He pulled back, lifting you up to stand up straight. You stared at him, searching for an explanation as to what just happened.

He shook his head, turning around to leave you alone, deserted on the dance floor.

You stood there, watching Legolas leave you alone with no explanation. Though, you had a feeling you knew why he left you there. Still panting, everyone watched in shock while the elf walked away.

For one thing, you were a little angry. You didn’t understand the point of leading someone on, only to deny them affections when the time came. Maybe you just read into it too much and dreamt up a false romance. But then, why did Legolas lean in? People thought men were complicated.

Finally, you shook yourself from your thoughts, running from the celebration to find Legolas. You hiked up your skirt and chased after the elf, wondering where on earth he could’ve gone. Then, it clicked. With a shiver, you ran against the breeze, heading for the frost-bitten hills.

———

You took a breath, the chill of the wind biting at the nape of your neck. Tugging at the cloak Legolas had given you, you kept on hiking up the icy hill. You were determined to find Legolas and sort this out, whatever it may be.

You shivered, the wind blowing the cloak from it’s warm position around your torso, much to your frustration. “Legolas?” You called, voice trembling as you shook in the bitter and unforgiving cold.

You huffed in slight exhaustion, watching the almost completely transparent cloud of your breath dissipate into the dark sky. “Legolas, I’m being serious! We need to talk.” You called out, the hooded figure you’d been searching for coming into view.

While relieved to see him, the weight of what had just happened came down on your shoulders all at once. You’d almost kissed Legolas. On the lips. You could blame it on the heat of the moment and forget everything that had just happened, but you knew you’d be lying to Legolas. You had a feeling he’d know it too.

Trudging through the mushy snow, you sighed in exasperation. Just as you turned around and gave up, you heard a silent breath behind you. “You’re right, Y/n.” He said, voice deep and cautious while he placed a hand on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

You spun around to meet those cerulean blue eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. “We need to talk.” He finished, earning a quiet nod from you.

———

You sat on your small bed with a huff, suddenly very interested in the way your blanket felt between your fingertips. Legolas stood still, brows creased in deep thought.

You stood, shaking off your nerves as best you could. ”Alright,“ You breathed, forcing yourself to look at Legolas.

“Why did you walk away?” You asked, your expression conveying slight hurt.

The elf sighed, slightly slumping his shoulders in defeat. “I don’t know.” He replied, his eyes betraying him. He wasn’t being honest.

You frowned, taking a bold step toward Legolas. “Really?“ Your voice was quiet, conveying your concerns and sadness. “That’s the best you’ve got?“ You asked, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He turned his back to you. “Please.” He quietly pleaded, clearly unwilling to share his true feelings.

You weren’t having it.

If he left you alone of the dance floor to be pitied by others, then he would give you a damn good reason why.

“Legolas,” You replied, taking another step towards him. “please just tell me why.”

He sighed, shoulders tensing up. “Y/n.” He warned, already irritated with the situation he’d placed himself in.

You snapped. “Just tell me why! I don’t understand!” You pushed, taking a final step towards the elf.

With a grunt, Legolas turned around, his face red. “Because I was afraid!” He shouted, immediately causing you to jump away from him.

You’d never heard him shout before. At least, not at you. Either way, you didn’t like it.

He saw your reaction and took a breath, his eyes conveying fear and remorse. “I still am.” He breathed out, voice low and broken.

You straightened your back, taking a small step towards him. “Of what?” You boldly inquired, placing a hand on your chest.

No reply.

So, you asked again. Except this time, you spoke as gently as you could, all while placing the hand once on your chest on Legolas’ shoulder.

“Legolas, what are you afraid of?” You asked, your voice soft and honeyed.

Finally, Legolas replied. “Getting my heart broken again.” He sighed, his blue eyes boring into you.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, using your other hand to gently touch the elf’s cheek. “Legolas,” You breathed, only growing more confident as you spoke. ”you know I would never do anything to hurt you, don‘t you?”

With the way Legolas looked at you, you couldn’t help but continue. “And if I’m being purely and completely honest,” You huffed, closing your eyes. “I think I just might love you.” You stated, cheeks burning.

And as if the whole situation had changed, something in Legolas’ eyes told you to kiss him. Fortunately, he beat you to it. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, gentle and caring with each touch.

It was incredible. You leaned against Legolas’ chest, completely lost in the feeling of his lips against your own. You allowed yourself a sweet little hum, trailing your hand up Legolas’ cheek and into his surprisingly soft hair.

In response, Legolas snaked an arm around your waist, gently pushing you against the wall. You grinned into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from laughing.

You kissed him! After all these months of pining and tip-toeing around each other, it finally happened.

Unfortunately, at some point, you both would have to breathe.

Legolas pulled away, suddenly very interested in the dirty floor, cheeks undeniably red. He panted, pressing his forehead against yours.

”So,” you grinned, panting as well. “what now?” You hummed, nearly beaming at the flustered elf before you.

The elf simply hummed, eyes swirling with mischief. He leaned in to kiss you again, his warm breath tickling your skin.

Your lips connected again, moving perfectly in sync. This time, however, it was somehow different; more passionate. You hummed again, earning a satisfied groan from Legolas.

That was new.

You allowed the elf to pick you up, walking towards the small bed to set you down. Had Legolas not lost his footing and dropped you on the bed, (thankfully) you might have gone a little bit further.

Instead, you both laughed, faces undeniably lit aflame at the silly interruption. The fits of giggles rang in the comfortable silence until you both settled down, rather tired from earlier’s events.

You smiled at the elf, scooting over. “Lie with me?”

With cheeks redder than a tomato, he nodded, lying beside you with an idiotic grin.

Legolas beckoned for you to lie on his chest, already fighting to keep his eyes open.

You obliged, nuzzling into his chest with a soft, content hum.

And in that moment, it seemed like everything would be okay.

~~~~~~ this was short and crappy but i guess go off lol

what do you think is gonna happen next? i love hearing conspiracy theories :)

tags: @eru-vande @thewhiteladyofrohan @from-patroclus-with-love @elvish-sky @entishramblings @iwenttomordor @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @redheadedfaye @ophieles @raven-exmralds @ahs0katan

[mosylufanfic]

“If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.” killervibe

I know how much you HATE angst, my friend, but . . . ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also Caitlin has a house now. Because I say so.

Promise Kept

The rain pattered on her umbrella. Caitlin focused on the sound, which was not at all like the rain option on the white-noise machine in her bedroom. She wished she were there, listening to her white-noise machine, wrapped in her blankets, alone in the dark.

Not here, at the cemetery, listening to the last words of the funeral service.

The rain started coming down harder, and she focused on the water running off the polished wooden surface of the casket as it waited to be lowered into the ground. She remembered standing like this at another funeral, the wind cutting cold through her thin dress coat, Cisco's warm bulk next to her under the umbrella.

Now she was alone under the umbrella, and Cisco was in the casket. Which was now being lowered into the ground. She found her breath strangled in her throat. Cisco would hate that. Hate being buried, where he couldn't move, couldn't breathe . . .

Someone nudged her. She focused with a jolt, and Iris held out a rose, dripping rainwater.

Right.

Right. They were supposed to . . . 

She took it and a thorn that the florist had missed jabbed her thumb, a bright spark of pain in the middle of the grey numbness. She almost dropped it, but managed to fling it instead, vaguely in the direction of the casket. It hit the edge of the open grave and tumbled onto the wooden top with a splat. 

She let out a breath that was almost a sob. She wanted the flower back. She wanted to do it over again. Better.

She wanted to do so many things over again, better.

People were starting to leave. The funeral was done, and they were turning and leaving Cisco there, in the casket, in the soggy ground, alone.

**

If the funeral had been bad, the reception afterward was worse. Caitlin sat on a hard chair in the corner of the room, holding a sandwich and a cookie for the sake of having something to do with her hands. She wasn't hungry. She hadn't been hungry since -

"How did it happen?"

"Some kind of accident. Nobody's really clear."

"God, how awful. He was so young."

"His whole life ahead of him."

"His poor mother. She had two healthy sons and lost them both."

Caitlin looked up, across the room. Cisco's mom was weeping again, another woman holding her. A sister, maybe. One of Cisco's aunts. 

She lurched up from her chair and grabbed her coat. She couldn't stay here, listening to people speculating on what had happened, when she knew it was all her fault.

She was out the door and heading to her car when someone called out, "Caitlin, wait."

She stopped and turned. Cecile came up to her, eyes kind. "Are you going?"

She nodded jerkily. 

The other woman took her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Nobody blames you."

She twisted out of her comforting grasp. "They should." 

**

He'd told her once, “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.”

SHe couldn't remember the occasion. It had been a couple of years ago after they started helping Barry with the Flash, and she'd gotten into some kind of danger, and Cisco had gotten her out of it.

She remembered his expression, though, smiling but serious. A promise.

At the time, she'd smiled back and hugged him. She should have stopped him. Should have told him, If rescuing me would mean your death, don't do it. Promise me. Don't ever do it. 

But she hadn't, and he had, and now . . .

She went through the motions of getting showered and changed for bed as if she were a robot. The rain still drummed on the roof, occasionally punctuated by a sulky roll of thunder. Huddled under her blankets, she shivered. She'd been cold since the cemetery, although she rarely got cold anymore. 

She picked up a book and tried to read herself to sleep, but the words slid and twisted out of her mind. After three attempts at the same page of a book she'd read at least ten times before, she gave up and switched off the light.

After Ronnie had died, all she'd wanted to do was sleep. But now, the comfort of unconsciousness eluded her. She lay curled under her weighted blanket, staring into the dark, grief throbbing inside her like a broken tooth.

The rain was coming down harder now. She focused on the storm, on counting the seconds between the flickers of brightness and the roll of thunder. They were getting closer. The teeth of the storm must be right over - 

KER-CRASH

For an instant, her whole bedroom lit up white and simultaneously, a crack of thunder rattled her bones.

In the next instant, light and noise were both gone and she was lying in the dark again, listening to the rain, eyes wide.

Then a huge creaking crash just outside her window brought her upright.  "What - " she said aloud, reaching for her reading lamp. But the room remained dark, even when she twisted the switch again and then a third time.

Dammit. She must have lost power.

She fumbled around for her phone, unhooking it from the dead charger, and kicked her blankets aside. Making her way to the window, she leaned on the glass and squinted out into the storm. 

"Dammit," she said aloud. She couldn't make out anything clearly through the rain.

She stuffed her bare feet into a pair of rain boots and grabbed her raincoat from its hook by the side door. Taking the strong flashlight that Cisco had given her when she'd moved in, she opened the back door and peered out, squinting through the rain. 

Oh, no, it was the whole tree.

The lightning had split it down the middle, both sides tipping away from each other, a small fire among its leaves getting rapidly doused by the rain. She swore for the third time and started to step off the porch to get a closer look. 

A hand clamped around her upper arm and a voice shouted in her ear Stop!

She dropped the flashlight and froze. Had she heard -

No. 

It wasn't possible. 

Somehow, her flashlight hadn't gone out when she dropped it, and the beam of light speared across the yard, rain glinting as it fell through.

It rested cockeyed on the steps at her feet, but as she watched, it rolled. Just a little. Just enough to make the beam sweep slowly across her yard, finally coming to rest in the branches of the tree - 

And the thick, broken power line tangled in them, deadly as a black mamba.

She stared at it for ten seconds, heart beating in her throat. She looked down at the flashlight. 

No. Too much of it was metal, and her fingers might brush the ground when she picked it up. Best not to risk it. 

Very, very carefully, she shuffled backward into her house, calculating the distance from her door to the downed power line. Thirty feet? Maybe forty? She shuffled backward a few more steps just to be safe and collapsed into a kitchen chair.

She reached in the pockets of her raincoat and fumbled out her phone, looking up a number on the internet before dialing. 

"Central City Gas and Power,"  said the voice on the other end. "How can I help you tonight?"

"Hello," she said, her voice very level. "My name is Caitlin Snow, I live at 648 Bonneville Way, and one of my trees was struck by lightning about five minutes ago. When it went down, it took a power line with it."

"Did you touch it, ma'am?"

"No. No, I didn't."

"Okay. Is the tree or the power line in the road?"

"I don't - I'm not sure. Mostly in my yard, I think. My power is out, though."

"Yes, I'm seeing an outage in that whole area. Do you have children or pets?"

"No."

"Okay. Due to safety regulations, we won't be able to get somebody out there until this storm passes. Might be tomorrow morning. Are you going to be okay overnight?"

"Yes. I have emergency candles."

"Stay at least thirty-five feet away from the power line and the tree. in fact, I'd stay out of your yard completely. Even seemingly dead power lines can deliver lethal doses of electricity, and you don't even have to be touching it."

"Yes, yes. I know. I have - I had a friend who worked with electricity a lot and he always made sure I knew all that. I'll stay inside." 

She hung up and texted her neighbors about the tree. Then she set her phone face down on the table and stared into the darkness.

Without all the various lights and indicators, and no street lights beaming in from outside, the dark was velvety and all-encompassing. But after a few moments, her eyes adjusted enough to register variations in the depth that resolved into washed-out shades of her kitchen. The white of her microwave, the paleness of her counter, the darkness of the other chairs around the table. 

She registered motion out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head, it was just the curtains at her kitchen window. Fluttering.

But the air conditioning had gone out with the rest of the power.

She breathed in and out. "Who's there?"

Frost shifted under her skin, but for some reason, she pushed her powered side down. There had been something about that hand, that voice . . . 

She swallowed twice and on the second time, managed to say, "Who's there? Why did you stop me?"

For a moment, the dappled shadows by the kitchen window could have been a human form. An achingly familiar human form . . . 

I made a promise, remember?

FINIS

[dokidokey]

all you wanted was a banana cake but you also made a successful, albeit messy, red velvet someway.

fluffvember track 09: food fight

word count: 1575

warnings: mentions of fire & of burning a whole house that is all

notes: idek my exams are tomorrow but letssss gooooo

FLUFFVEMBER MASTERLIST

“Do banana cakes have frosting?” You ask Tendou as he stirs the batter of your banana cake, his apron matching the crimson shade of his head. You can’t help but admire him under the 8 AM sunlight filtered through your glass windows in your tiny apartment, his red hair and red apron standing out from the white background of your kitchen.

Tendou hums, looking up from the bowl to you. “Depends. Why?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “all the banana cakes I’ve had when I was a kid were from this local cake shop and they’re all sliced. The carrot cake, too.”

“So you’ve never had a whole carrot cake with the frosting?”

“Nope,” you say, pouting and shaking your head side to side, smiling slightly to yourself as Satori pours the batter into two rectangular pans. For a chocolatier that only tried this recipe with you because you kept pestering him the moment you woke up, you think this experiment will end up good. You sure hope so or all your effort will go to waste.

Tendou taps the side of one of the pans and calls you over, tipping his head slightly at the side. “Do the honors of putting your precious banana cake in the oven.”

You originally wanted a carrot cake (one with frosting and like, a real cake) but it was so early you didn’t have enough energy for a quick early morning grocery run, so you ended up making a banana cake instead with what’s left of the banana sitting in your kitchen counter.

Picking up the pans, you crouch down in front of the oven and place them neatly inside, humming happily to yourself as you close it and click it on, satisfied at the sounds of the machine.

“There,” you stand back, rubbing your palms on your black apron, “we wait 30 minutes, right?” You ask Satori for confirmation because you really aren’t sure. You didn’t bother to read the recipe because Tendou was there to read it for you. All you did was mix whatever he told you to.

It’s not that you’re lazy. Not really. But the trauma of setting your kitchen on fire never quite left you. At eight, without any adult supervision, you almost set your whole kitchen (and house, probably, if your parents had not come home any sooner,) on fire. All you wanted was some omelet but somehow got distracted. You didn’t know the kitchen was on fire until you heard ceramics break. Walking back in the kitchen, you saw the ceiling and your cupboards (both the floating and the lower ones) on fire, the reason why the plates and glasses fell.

You’d never talk about how bad you got reprimanded for that.

Since then, you never cooked on your own, much less stay inside the kitchen, unless you have someone with you. It’ll take a lot of convincing for you to open the stove or light a candle inside your home.

“You could just make this on your own,” Tendou says, opening your fridge and taking out an orange juice box.

Scoffing, you get two clear glasses from your floating shelf. “As if. You’d never see me start a fire inside this home ever.”

“There aren’t any fires involved,” he says obviously, raising an eyebrow at the oven holding your banana cakes.

“No, thank you. What if I forget or whatever? What if it decides to, I don’t know, malfunction? I’d hate to set this whole apartment on fire, you know?”

Satori just chuckles at your little rant, pouring you both a half glass of orange juice. He’d once complained to you why you only have orange juice and not pineapple or cranberry or apple. Orange juice is the only juice you can stomach ever.

“If you had a longer attention span then you’d probably be a chef right now. An omelet at eight? Pretty impressive.”

You scowl at him. “Yeah, pretty impressive of me to almost turn our whole house to ashes. So talented of me!”

Tendou laughs, downing his juice and moving toward the sink. He starts piling the dirty plates and containers in the corner. 

“You’re lucky you never got to－”

The banana sure will taste good if it ends up right because the batter is sweet on your lips, courtesy of Satori smearing it on you after dipping his fingers on the leftover batter on the bowl. Licking your lips to clean it off, you glare at him, eyeing the bowl that he put next to him.

“Tastes good?” He asks, holding back his laughter, scarlet eyes shining in mirth. You say nothing but you do quickly scour off some portion of the batter to your finger and wiping it on his cheek. You throw your head back at the light yellow color contrasting his pretty pale complexion.

“Tastes good?” You mimic, scooping some more and painting his chin and jaw with the sticky mixture. There’s a smirk playing at the ends of his lips and you should have seen it coming but the slimy feeling of the leftover eggs being thrown at your collarbone area is absolutely disgusting. A shiver whacks through your whole body as it trickles down the inside of your shirt and on your chest.

“Satori!” You complain, a scoff and a laugh merging into an absurd sound, laying a palm on your skin to somehow rid of the egg but you just shudder. “This is cheating!”

Tendou moves on the other side of the island, clutching a bowl of whatever leftover ingredients you had. “It’s not!” He giggles, clutching a handful of flour and flicking it on your face. A surprised gasp finds its way out of your lips, blinking repeatedly as you try to see through the power caught on your eyelashes.

A sudden idea for a payback lights up in your head as you whine. “Satori, I can’t see.”

“Oh, really?” He muses, clearly unconvinced. But you make an act of rubbing your closed eyelids and trying to blink your eyes open which you purposely don’t fully open, another whine of complaint coming from you.

This time, Satori relents. He puts down his bowl of flour on the marble top and makes his way over to you, a guilty expression on his face. He coos as he stands close, hands gentle as they hover over your face.

“Let me see,” he says and behind you, you grasp whatever it is you first touch, hoping it has something in it or else your act of revenge will fail. Gripping the container tight around your fist, you bring it forward and shove it on Tendou’s chest. He steps back, aghast, feeling his clothes soak in the water. You aren’t content though so you shove the rest of what’s left in the pitcher, this time on his face. His red eyes are wide in shock as he looks at you.

“Y/N,” he bemoans, a hand wiping the water off his pretty face, “this is cheating.”

“It’s nooooot,” you sing, shaking the pitcher on your hold tauntingly, moving away from him in case he tries to get you soaked too by hugging you. You place the pitcher on the island beside his bowl of flour, picking a handful and throwing the powder at him. A cackle slips past your throat at how he looks, cakes with flour that is sticking to his face because it was wet and the right side of his cheek and jaw a little uneven from the batter you smeared on it earlier. “You look really pretty, Tori,” you snicker.

“I bet,” he grins, winking at you and even holding up a peace sign in the air.

“We’re taking pictures after!” You announce, grabbing an egg and hurling it toward him, which he quickly dodges. The egg lands on the wall, slipping down the tiles in a yellowish goo. Damn him and his quick instincts. There’s a victorious, “hah!” from him, grabbing the banana peels on the counter and chucking it at you, hitting you square in the face.

“There you go,” he smiles, stealing the bowl of flour and grabbing a handful on his left hand, a handful of batter on his right. He molds the two to make it like a little snowball, the little ball barrelling in your direction. You barely step away from it, catching you by the neck. Your scream from the impact slowly bleeds out into loud peaks of laughter, head thrown back with a hand on the fridge door for support.

“Please, please no more,” you beg between giggles, eyeing Satori as he closes the distance between the two of you. His arms quickly make their way around your waist, his own laughter spilling past his lips.

He raises his eyebrows with a smile on his face, eyes shining. “You surrendered when I took most of the blows?”

You laugh harder, wiping his face clean with your palms. “You look like a badly made cake,” you wheeze.

“I’m your badly made cake,” he says, leaning his face closer to yours. With giggles still erupting from within you, you tip your head back away from his face.

“A red velvet one,” you grin, hands coming up at the back of his neck, playing with the red strands of his hair. Satori hums, pecking you once, twice, until you’re laughing again because he managed to smear what was on his face to yours.

this was late (and uh, a little all over the place) but whatever hahdiejdjd

[vanillann]

raid and velvet: a love story (peter parker x reader)

ahh my first peter parker!! i hope this is what you are looking for!! i’m sorry it’s messy and not that good.

word count: 1.7k

day 1

Bucky stepped out of the medical room, the sound of screaming was heard until he closed the door behind him. Steve looked up at him, a glitter of hope flashing through his eyes.

“Hydra has most likely had them for a while, but I think I can break through to ‘em,” Bucky nodded his head, his metal hand running through his long hair.

“How old are they?”

“15, 16 at most,” Peter looked up at that, the idea of someone that was his age excited him.

“Think big boy could help?” Sam asked for his spot beside Steve.

“Might not hurt,” Bucky shrugged as he looked back at the body struggling in restraints.

“I felt bad for shooting at her, but she was coming at me man,” Tony stood on the farthest wall, watching the screaming kid in his medical room. His heart was breaking, imagining if this was his kid.

“Just give it time Stark, they got a chance to get better now.”

day 28

The screaming had died down incredibly, the medical room looked much calmer now then it did a few days ago.

“All you have to do is talk to them, keep the questions basic.”

Peter nodded at Nat’s word, watching the body that laid on the bed, hands and felt tied down.

Peter pushed to the door, looking over the room quickly before looking at the ex-Hydra soldier.

“Oh so they sent in the flower child to take care of me now,” the sarcastic comment was followed by an eye roll.

“I’m Peter.” Peter took the seat in the corner of the room, still scared they could somehow kill him.

“Cute.”

Peter watched as they pulled at the chains at their wrist, a loud groan filled the room.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

Peter looked down at his lap, thinking over every question he’d heard other kids ask in the hallways at MidTown.

“Do you like cake?”

Peter cringed as soon as the words fell past his lips, embarrassed he even thought for a second that was a good question.

“Oh of course, I also love glitter and unicorns,” (Y/N) looked over at Peter with a fake bright smile.

Peter knew it was fake, but it made her look younger for some reason.

“I think you’d like a red velvet cake, you seem like a red velvet type person,” Peter played with his finger, listening to Steve and Nat talk right outside the door of the medical room.

“Never had it.”

Peter looked up, an offended look on his face as he looked them over again.

“You’ve never had red velvet cake?”

A loud sigh full form (Y/N) lips, a wicked chuckle followed closely after.

“Well Hydra didn’t exactly do birthday parties,” (Y/N) pulled at the chains again before letting their head fall back against the bed.

“Can you leave, I wanna get some sleep.”

Peter quickly stood up, he felt bad for even trying to make the room lighter.

“Talk to you later (Y/N),” Peter didn’t want for her response before he ran out the door to join Steve and Nat.

“Mr. America, I don’t think she likes me very much,” Peter said, looking wide-eyed between the two.

“You’re the only person she’s brought up Hydra too,” Nat said gently, looking behind Peter into the medical.

A small feeling of pride filled Peter up, maybe this would be fun.

day 52

Peter smiled as he knocked on the door of the medical room, watching as (Y/N) looked up and nodded their head.

Peter walked in, a small box held tightly in his left hand.

“Morning (Y/N),” Peter skipped over to the seat in the middle of the room, slightly closer than the one he sat in on the first meeting.

“Morning Raid.”

Peter rolled his nickname, cursing the day Sam and Bucky decided to come in together.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Peter chuckled as they crossed their arms over their chest.

“Bucky told me too, I trust Bucky.”

Peter wouldn’t ever say it, I mean he understood the situation, but he wished (Y/N) trust him like they trust Bucky.

“I have something for you,” Peter smiled as he opened the box and titled it to (Y/N).

The red velvet cupcake sat in the center of the box, a bunch of white frosting and a Spiderman ring sat on top.

“How do I know it’s safe to eat?”

(Y/N) pulled their leg closer to their chest, a black look across their face.

Peter flashed the top of the box, Bucky chicken scratch of a signature writing on the top of the box.

“Bucky signed it so you would know.”

Peter moved the chair slightly closer, moving the box closer so (Y/N) could look at it better.

“You said something about not having red velvet before and I was going to just wait for your birthday but we don’t know when your birthday is,” Peter rambled as he watched (Y/N) gently pull the cupcake from the box.

(Y/N) smelt the frost before taking a small lick, a little white frosting collecting on the tip of their nose.

Without taking their eyes off the cupcake, they began speaking.

“October 17th,” they took a large lick of the frosting and looked up at Peter.

“What?”

“My birthday is October 17th, I think. I don’t know, it’s the one Hydra gave me.”

Peter watched as they finally took a bite of the cupcake, a hint of a smile forming behind the frosting.

“How about we make today your birthday?”

Peter walked as (Y/N) looked up at him, a small nod as they turned back to look at the cupcake.

“Okay, on February 1st every year we will celebrate your birthday.”

(Y/N) only pulled the Spider-Man ring off the cupcake, turning it to face Peter.

“Really?”

“What, I couldn't help.”

Peter smiled as (Y/N) placed the ring on the bedside table, going back to eating their cupcake.

“Can I get so much alone time?”

Peter smiled gently at them as he stood up from his seat.

“Yeah, when can I see you again?”

(Y/N) only shrugged their shoulders and continued eating their red velvet cupcake.

day 164

“Hi Raid,” (Y/N) waved at him as he walked into the room, Bucky and Sam sitting in their seats.

“Bug boy, what are you doing here?” Sam smiled as Peter took the seat closest to (Y/N), only she would let Peter, Bucky, and Nat sit there.

“Velvet told me to stop back at lunch,” Peter held up a bag, two sandwiches could be seen in the bag.

“Velvet?”

Bucky smiled as (Y/N) pulled at the threads on the sheets, pleased they were getting somewhere. must be faster than they expected.

“It’s a nickname.”

Peter watched Bucky and Sam smile at each other, a smirk playing at both their lips.

“Well (Y/N), Stark and Nat will be here later to help you move,” Same stood as patted the end of the bed.

They both left the room, looking back behind them until they turned the corner.

“Move? Are you leaving?”

Peter felt his heartbreak slightly, not wanting the only person he wanted to see at the compound most days to leave.

“I’m leaving the medical wing,” (Y/N) reached for the bag, pulling out a sandwich and unwrapping it.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting a real room.”

Peter watched the small smile play at (Y/N), but quickly covered it with the sandwich.

“Oh that amazing (Y/N), you are doing better than we all thought,” Peter pulled his own sandwich out of the bag, happy that (Y/N and him could actually walk around the compound together.

“Eh.”

Peter brow drew together, confused why the first thing (Y/N) thought to say was “eh”.

“Eh?”

A quick shrug and another bite of the sandwich, looking everywhere but Peter.

“I still don’t feel right.”

Peter looked up, waiting for them to continue with the statement.

“I don't know, I just feel like what everyone tells me I am,” (Y/N) pulled out a bit of lettuce, throwing in at Peter.

Peter dodged the lettuce, not even giving it much thought.

“Who do you want to be?”

(Y/N) looked up at Peter, a confused look in their eyes.

“I don't know, I guess that's the problem.”

day 284

“Peter, get out of my room!”

(Y/N) at the top of their lungs, a slight panic filled Peter that they’d break like yesterday.

“I’m not leaving.”

(Y/N) picked up a pillow and threw it as full force to Peter, which Peter early caught and placed on the ground.

“I could snap again, you saw me yesterday in the kitchen.”

Peter rolled his eyes, trying to slowly walk closer while (Y/N) screamed at him.

“It’s not a big deal.”

Peter gently held out both hands, (Y/N) grabbed a sleeve and rolled it up. The sight of Peter banging his forearm looked nasty to anyone who wasn’t in the compound.

“I attacked you with one of Pepper’s cooking knives!”

The way (Y/N) voice crack had Peter look away, upset that they were upset.

“I shouldn't have been trying to help Flash with his Russian in front of you,” Peter pulled the sleeve of his shirt down, trying to forget the thing even happened.

“Peter, you were helping a friend over the phone. I’m the crazy one here.”

(Y/N) pushed Peter's chest, pushing him till his back hit the wall.

“(Y/N), friends won't leave you so I’m not leaving.”

“I don't wanna be your friend!”

Peter felt the rain that was falling outside had suddenly gotten loud and the air around him suddenly had gotten harder to breathe.

“What do you want then?”

Peter now could feel his own voice crack, the idea of you loving him back seemed crazy but apparently you didn’t even want to be around him.

“I-i wanna kiss your neck.”

Peter watched at (Y/N) pushed farther away, a single tear slipping down her face.

Peter jumped off the door, gripping (Y/N) wrist. He dragged himself closer until his lips crashed into theirs. (Y/N) hand slowly crept up Peter’s arm, soon was playing with the hair at the nap of his neck.

He felt her teeth run over his bottom lip and his brain felt like it was going to explode.

(Y/N) started pulling away, having to push Peter back slightly just so they could get some air.

“I’m sorry, Raid.”

“Don’t be, Velvet.”

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter five: coraline meyer, marcus pike and the fortress of bad ideas

part six of sudden desire

prologue / one / two / three / four / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so they decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character (coraline meyer)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: a smidge of angst and a stupid suggestion

author's note: i accidentally deleted this nobody look at me. also, for some reason tumblr mobile isn’t letting me edit this so i can’t edit the font size, so that’s why it’s different formatting :(((

It’s been a week. An entire week since she’s seen him. A week since she’s heard his voice. And everything about it feels wrong.

There hasn’t been a day since they met that they haven’t spoken, but things seem different now. As much as she tries to forget what happened that night, she can’t. It etched into her mind and it plays there like a movie, vivid and bright and repetitive. What happened there, outside his apartment building, when they’d kissed each other in the rain like in one of those cheesy romance movies. All she can see when she closes her eyes are his; warm and brown and speckled with flecks of gold, sparkling in the dim light of his building’s doorway. All she can smell is his cologne, intoxicating and dizzying, the kind of smell she could drown in. Happily.

It seems almost pathetic to be crumbling at the memory of one brief kiss, one fleeting moment when she was tipsy and upset and definitely not thinking straight. She keeps trying to forget it, over and over again, to push it from her mind.

But she can’t. For better or for worse, she just can’t. But she has to, if she wants things to go back to how they were before. Because they’re friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

That’s all she wants to be, his friend. 

Even if, maybe, he can’t be hers anymore.

She hasn’t been sleeping, not really; between work, long hours that seem to creep by slower than they ever have before, his absence, and the ever-mounting list of disasters, she finds herself sliding into that half-dream-like state where she’s caught between sleep and the startling presence of everything slowly falling apart around her.

She’s tried to find the courage to call him or even just to answer the multiple calls and texts that she’s sent. But she can’t. Maybe it’s some self-preservation thing, the notion that, if she doesn’t answer, he can’t tell her they’re no longer friends. She can just go on living her life like he’s still there to talk to whenever she’s down, bringing her Chinese food most Thursday nights after he finishes work. She’s painfully aware that that’s counter-intuitive and completely ridiculous - how can you pretend someone is still in your life, whilst blatantly ignoring them? - but she’s lost too many people now to face that again.

Somehow pushing them away before they can leave or be pulled away from her seems the best option.

But Coraline misses him. God, how she misses him. She’s been cold ever since that night in the rain. It’s worse than normal, the chill pulling at her bones and drenching her in a permanent shiver. It’s like, every morning when she wakes up, someone pours a bucket of ice water over her head in the middle of a bleak winter, bleeding away any of the comfortable warmth he always painted her with. At first, she chalked it up to the rain. That their childish dash through the D.C. rainstorm had made her ill and that shivers were just the sign of oncoming flu. Or that maybe she is ill like Marcus had said. But she’s come to realise that, perhaps, it’s Marcus and his sudden absence. Like even him just being there distracts her from some kind of horrifying pain deep within her gut that she hasn’t even realised is there until she stopped speaking to him. 

It’s a pain made worse by her own making and, by the end of the week, she’s almost at the point of reaching for her phone and pouring her heart out to him in the form of an apology she isn’t entirely sure will make up for her ignorance.

She’s never been more grateful than when Marcus calls her, Friday night. It’s the fifth call that week but the first one she answers. It comes late, eleven o’clock, maybe, when he’s finished work for the day. When she can hear the rumble of the traffic as it passes on the road. It almost covers the sharp exhale he gives when he hears her voice and the gentle ‘hello’ she breathes over the line. She almost wonders if she’s hearing things, or it’s just the sound of a passing car, until his reply sounds just as relieved. 

He asks her out for coffee Saturday morning. Their usual spot. As friends, of course. Always as friends. Never anything more or less than friends. He doesn’t mention the kiss but the implication is there, thick in his voice like honey, weighing down his words. She accepts his invitation so quickly that it's almost embarrassing but she misses him too much to let it go.

...

They seem to fall right out of familiarity in the most familiar place in the world. It’s not like it normally is when they meet there; she’s welcomed by the same warmth and the low hum of voices but there’ll no hug, there’ll no brief moment when they take a second to watch each other, like they’re studying some brand new artwork in a gallery, and there’ll be no comfortable silence that settles between them when she first sits down. The only sense of normality between them is in the mug of steaming coffee that sits in front of Coraline’s chair when she arrives, because of course he’s ordered her a drink, because of course he knows exactly what she wants every single time. 

It’s cold out that morning. Colder than it has been for a long while; the air is crisp and frigid and frost clings to the window panes, a colourless kaleidoscope obscuring the glass. Everything is tipped in a gentle white, except for her fingers. Her fingers are leaden and painful and crowned with red, and they barely work as she fumbles with her phone to check for a text, expecting him to back out and say that he’s no longer coming. She wouldn’t even blame him if he decides not to. 

It’s a short walk to the coffee shop. It always has been — it’s just down the street from her apartment — but it feels like it takes an age to get there. By the time she reaches the door, fogged-up by the cold, the tea lights bleeding warm light through the clouded glass, she wonders what she’ll do if he says he doesn’t want to see her again. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. 

She still smiles when she sees him sitting at the table tucked away in the corner, where most people can’t see them; she’s not even cognizant of what’s happening, just sees the soft expression that settles in his face, halfway between relief and something unreadable, and her face is suddenly split with an even wider smile. She can’t help it. The relief settles his features and he watches her enter, her hands dragging against her jeans as she tries her best to brush away the sweat that has dampened them. 

Coraline swipes her tongue over her bottom lip and tugs it in between her teeth as she drops her jacket over the back of the chair and settles into the large plush armchair. It seems to engulf her; she feels small, like a child amongst the cushions. For the first few moments, she feels like she’s at an audition. Everything consumes her — the nerves, the adrenaline, the complete and utter dread — and she feels like she’s staring over at one of those strangers who knows what they want and, somehow, already, that that isn’t her. 

There’s no hug when she reaches the table, no moment when they take a moment to ground themselves in each other and the welcome feeling of their arms holding the other close. Familiarity is shot and they’re the same two people they were the very first day they met; those two, the unfamiliar, unlikely couple that introduced themselves over crappy FBI coffee in an empty briefing room. Only, this time, the silence isn’t comfortable, it’s painfully drawn out and laced with anguish. 

“I’m sorry.” That’s the only thing she can bring herself to say after the seemingly endless beat of quiet that settles between them. She’s wrapped in a thick cardigan, futile attempts to smother the shivers that grasp her limbs. She’s fussing, she knows she is, but somehow her jeans feel too wrinkled and her shirt feels too tight and she regrets wearing these shoes because they’re squeezing her feet. “Marcus, I’m sorry, I-“

But, somehow, he’s looking at her like she’s the sun. 

Their eyes meet across the table, that one little beat, that passing second, when their gazes lock and things seem familiar again, and that ache that’s been tearing at the inside of her chest for the past week slowly melts away at the sight of him. 

“I kissed you first.” He points out. It’s a matter-of-fact statement that’s punctuated by a sip of his drink. Coraline gulps. She settles back in her chair like if she presses into them hard enough, they’ll swallow her whole and carry her away from this place, back to familiarity. “You don’t need to apologise,” he insists. 

“I ignored your calls all week.” Coraline counters. It seems like a petty argument, that they’re both blaming themselves for the silence and hesitation between them. But Cora silently thanks god that he’s not blaming her instead. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

He’s looking at her with those brown eyes, all the warmth and brilliance that had pulled her in in the first place. “Coraline.” He says her name like it has a purpose. “Please don’t apologise.” 

She sighs. “Well, then, you shouldn’t either.” He cocks an eyebrow and settles back in his seat. Coraline lifts the oversized mug to her lips and revels in the overly sweet taste of the coffee she drinks far too much of. She’s sure the sugar must have gone to her head when the next words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them. “I liked it.”

She’s sure he almost chokes on his coffee but he does his best to hide it. He watches her for a second as she nonchalantly sips her drink, expertly hiding the way she’s screaming at herself inside for what she’d said. The FBI agent in him comes out — the one trained to spot liars, to notice bluffs and the subtle tells that give away what someone is hiding — but she’s glad she chose to wear her glasses that morning because they hide the wild panic in her eyes from across the table; he settles on the conclusion that she’s bluffing to make him feel better and his shoulders relax. “You don’t mean that.”

Did she mean that? Maybe she did. But he’s her best friend. She can’t. Can she? 

“Maybe I do.” She murmurs. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath, exhales slowly and leans forward again. “I’ve been thinking-“

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He’d usually laugh at that. Or fire back some equally sarcastic comment in reply. But he doesn’t; the corners of his mouth quirk up, a small smile, but that’s all. And Coraline’s heart sinks. The tension is thick in the coffee shop and it feels like the world is collapsing around her. “Sorry, inappropriate. Carry on.”

She knows where this is going. She’s had this conversation before, with Scott. It’s eerily familiar, gut-wrenching and terrifying and she feels like her heart is about to fall from her chest. The lack of smiles and the short words, the familiar setting that was somehow meant to make the blow softer. All she can think is how she doesn't want to lose him. She can’t lose him. Not now, not after everything.

She thinks that she might need him more than she realises. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last week.”

“I said a lot last week,” Coraline notes. “I was upset. And a little drunk.”

“I know, but I think it’s been eating away at you for a while, now,” he insists. 

She lifts her eyes from her mug, narrowing them in his direction. “What are you talking about, Marcus?”

“I’ve been thinking. All week, really. About what you said and what you want.” Marcus repeats. His voice is still soft and steady like it always is; he always reasons that it comes with the job, having to be calm in situations like this, but his eyes usually give him away, only for a moment, when they flicker with something Coraline can never put a finger on.

“About what I want?”

“If you really want a baby- if you’re serious- I’ll have a baby with you.”

This time, it’s Coraline who practically chokes on her coffee. Her fingers splay out in front of her mouth to stop a potential fountain of half-cold coffee from spraying out over Marcus. She watches him, gages his sincerity, and when she can’t see even the slightest suggestion of his proposal being a joke, she panics. Sure, she tries to play it off like it’s nothing, all amused eyes and level voice. She hopes it works because she can feel her heart pounding against her ribcage so hard that it’s almost painful, like it’s going to break straight from her chest and fall onto the table. “Haha, very funny, Marcus.”

“I’m serious.”

She glares at him. “And I’m serious. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Marcus, you know why not.” Coraline sighs. “It just- so many things could go wrong-” Her gaze falls to her hands and she starts to chew on her lip, the sweet taste of her lipgloss the only thing reminding her that this wasn’t a dream, and that he really is sat before her proposing that they have a baby. “I don’t want to lose you,” she admits. Her breath is shaky when she inhales deeply. “And if we date or get married and have a baby and then we break up-”

“Cora, I’m not saying we should get married or even that we should be together,” he insists, “But, as your friend, I am offering you a family, if you want it.”

There aren’t many words Coraline can think to say. It’s just- all this- she hadn’t been expecting this. She’d prepared for a swift exit after he’d told her things were too awkward between them now that they’d kissed. She’d prepared for the ache in her chest when he told her he couldn’t be her friend anymore. She’d not prepared for him to offer her a baby. “You don’t want to be tied to me like that.” It’s all she can muster. Everything else she tries to stay falls short and dies on her tongue. “You could still meet someone better.” 

It sounds marginally better than ‘are you insane?’

“There’s no one quite like you, Coraline Meyer.”

At first, she thinks he’s professing his love for her. Like they do in the movies; like she’s Bridget Jones and he’s Mark Darcy and he’s telling her how he loves her just as she is. But that’s wishful thinking and there’s a pang in her chest when she realises it’s not what it means; she can’t figure out what it is that strikes her but she thinks it’s relief that they’ll stay just the way that they are.

“And, besides-” He leans forward against the table, further towards her. He wrinkles his brow and reaches up to scratch his beard hesitantly. “I’m a divorcee with a failed engagement under my belt. We’re in the same boat here.”

She’s not sure why she’s more struck by the revelation of Marcus’ past than she is at his offer, but she can’t help the way her eyes widen. She doesn’t mean them to — the news isn’t Earth-shattering or destroying — but there’s so much pretence around it that it feels like things might just be falling apart, anyway. 

Her heart drops; she wants to reach over the table and take his hand, to smooth away the worry and the anguish like he’d done for her so many times. But she can’t reach him. He’s leant back so far in his chair that she’d have to stand up just to reach him, if she wanted to. Instead, she puts down her mug and leans forward, her eyes meeting his for the first time, really. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She hopes she doesn’t sound like she pities him. There’s nothing she hates more than pity, and he didn’t seem like the type, either; Marcus was the only one who hadn’t made her feel small during her divorce. Maybe it was because, back then, he didn’t know her well enough, but he’d always made her laugh when she needed it. There was never any pity there. And she trusted him enough to never make her feel small.

Marcus doesn’t know why he’s never told her before. And he doesn’t know why he expects her to be mad he hasn’t told her, but she’s not. Her voice is just as soft as it normally is around him and she almost reaches for his hand. “Uh, well-” His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck. Despite everything, it still felt nervous telling her about his past. He’d never had trouble talking about those things with anyone before, even the therapist he’d been seeing when he first moved to D.C. But, mostly, things just seemed a little heavier now. “When we met, you were still going through your divorce. You were hurting and- well, it just never seemed appropriate, I guess.”

“Marcus-” This time, she does take his hand, when he leans forward. Coraline reaches across the table and laces their fingers together. “You should have told me.”

“Just being around you helped,” he admits, “You didn’t need to know why.” He pauses. “That came out wrong-“ He chuckles shortly and shakes his head. “I just didn’t want to burden you.”

“Burden me? You could never be a burden.” She watches their hands where they’re joined against the table, their fingers fitting together like it’s the most familiar thing in the world. Coraline glances back up at him, meets his gaze, and tilts her head. “We deserve better,” she insists.

She doesn’t care if it seems self-righteous, it’s true. They’re both good people — though Marcus is definitely a better person than she is, for all their faults and shortcomings — and they deserve better than the heartbreak they got. Coraline sighs as Marcus starts to rub circles against the side of her hand with his thumb. “You could have told me,” she reaffirmed.

One word changes the meaning. He shouldn’t have to tell her anything, he doesn’t owe her anything. He doesn’t have to share anything with her about his past; they’re different in that way, she guesses, because compared to him, she seems like an open book who spills all her secrets to anyone who will listen. She doesn’t even want him to tell her the details, if he doesn’t want to. If he’s not comfortable enough to tell her. But she wishes he felt comfortable enough to speak to her about it. 

He didn’t reply to Coraline, just smiled softly, glanced down at their hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “What happens now?” He questioned,

Coraline smiled softly. “Well, I’m going to go home and my best friend is going to come with me. Then, we’re going to order takeout and watch some shitty movie and pretend that this conversation and last week never happened.”

“Hmm- he sounds like a lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.” She muses; she watches the slow ripples in her drink. She’s pretty sure she’s the lucky one. “I’m going to go home, I’m going to eat ice cream and order takeout and it’s not going to be awkward or uncomfortable because we’re friends and love each other too much to throw that away. I’m also going to apologise for being a complete bitch and ignoring him for a week.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“That’s good.” The first genuine smile of the day steals her lips; it’s a welcome burst of light through the dimly-lit coffee shop that had grown colder and dull thanks to the rain clouds lingering outside. “Don’t tell him but I’d hate to lose him.”

He can’t help but smile. And he thinks that he’s blushing, too - his cheeks burned as he basked in her sunlight - but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s smiling down at her coffee cup as she finishes the last drops of her drink. She stands and gathers her jacket and her mug and, as she moves to leave, turns back to look over her shoulder. Coraline extends her free hand towards Marcus. “Well, are you coming?”

It takes a moment for him to react. He’s just staring, revelling in the relief of a weight he hadn’t even realised his shoulders were holding. Even the heavy, frostbitten air seemed light now; Coraline takes his hand when he stands, almost as if it’s second nature, and sweeps towards the door, dropping her mug on the counter as she passes. The way she walks, it’s light she’s floating, and it’s a welcome relief that she’s no longer that some woman who walked into the coffee shop before. No longer that reluctant, faded woman who was hesitant to meet his gaze. She’s Coraline again, walking sunshine.

“My offer still stands, y’know,” he reminds her as the door opens and they’re hit with the frosty chill that gathered at the windows. It’s starting to rain a little, that fine drizzle that lingers on the breeze and makes your clothes cling to your skin, yet it doesn’t even seem to bother Coraline much. She just shucks up her jacket further over her shoulders, tugs insistently on his hand, and leads them further down the quiet street, emptied by the spill of the rain. 

Coraline hums and turns back to look at him. Her smile is gentle and appreciative; she appreciates the offer more than he knows, even if she thinks that it’s entirely crazy and reckless. It’s a life-changing proposition, for both of them, and the weight of it hasn’t quite settled yet. “We can talk about that later,” she insists and that’s when they fall right back into the comfortable familiarity they share. 

[popculturebuffet]

Darkwing Duck: My Valentine Ghoul Review aka A Bad Episode Even by Valentine’s Day Episode Standards

Welcome back Darkwings of the Night. It’s time to go back to St. Canard for the very review that got me to finish up my look at the episodes that should’ve lead up to Just Us Justice Ducks and the episode itself last month. While I probably COULD have reviewed this one before finsihing that as continuity’s pretty loose here, I wanted to see Negaduck’s proper introduction first. So was it worth it?

Yeah while I was glad to get one of my retrospectives done and free up some room for other stuff, this episode..was an objective disapointment and might be even worse than “Brush with Oblivion”. If your curious to know why and aren’t already lobbing a harpoon at me for bashing an episode you liked, join me under the cut. 

On PAPER this episode sounded really good. Negaduck trying to seduce Morgana back to crime and in general after Darkwing once again neglected her is not at all a bad premise and the in episode conflict of Darkwing’s obnoxious supscioson of his girlfriend being an ex con, COULD’VE been really interesting. But there’s a reason Could’ve was in all caps folks: This episode is not very well put together and it’s gender politics have aged like fine santa liquor left split in a bathtub surronded by toxic waste for 20 years, and tastes just as bad. Trust me I know. My colon still hasn’t recovered. So let’s get into WHY shall we? 

So we open with a date in a graveyard with Darkwing and Morgana, unsuprisingly though Darkwing isn’t the fondest of their meal which... look like someone scrambled the Star-Spawn of Cthulu. He’s going to be pissed.. especially once I try some. Look i’m very curious and very hungry. 

But things take a turn when Darkwing brings up diamonds, because he’s fully insensitive enough to bring them up in front of his girlfriend. She does take the truth in stride: he’s not proposing he’s simply hung up on a case of diamonds going missing, and no solution and thus might have to cut the date short. She offers to go with him but he shoots her down, saying the last time she helped she turned him into a rutabega.. instead of you know TRAINING her and helping her on her aim.  Then the episode looses me.. and about how long into the episode are we exactly? Not taking the theme song into acount?

Yup. It takes around 2 minutes, with some change. for the episode to become absolutley terrible. But first off Morgana suddenly flies off the table claming he dosen’t trust her for being a former criminal and zaps him in vengance.. which is assualt. Cartoony assault sure but it still hurts and his reactoin is STILL pure feer as he’s turned into some kind of ball... I mean.. it’s not like he can’t fight crime like that. Some of the best have done it. 

But still she goes to physical violence at the drop of a hat this episode and Darkwing seems more than a little afraid of that happening again. Just... wow.  I thought, having finished the Legend of the Three Cablleros, i’d be done with writing so poor a character comes off as a domestic abuser, mental in that case phsyical here, but here we are. Now this is untetional so I don’t blame the writers as much.. but I still heft some blame on them for being SO bad at writing a woman that she can’t get angry without phsyically attacking her partner or grasping the implications there. 

Oh and it gets worse. Yes, it somehow gets worse from “Morgana attacking darkwing for upsetting her”. Darkwing proves to be pretty vile himself, as when Morgana accuses him of not trusting her due to her criminal past.... he says “You know what they say once a crook always a crook. “

My.. fucking.. god.... the show is stacking unfortunate implications on top of itself like lego bricks. And yes attitudes towards prisoners were much worse back then, I get that. Dosen’t make it tolerable to HEAR someone spouting that bullshit, let alone our protaganist. And while it doesn’t make her right to shoot lighting at him, as she does after this or attack him before... it does mean he’s a massive, mentally abusive dick who refuses to trust his partner who reformed FOR HIM, just because she used to do crimes. It takes a special kind of bad writing to screw up so badly that two of your heroes are immensley unikeable in the span of minutes but they did. CONGRADULATIONS DUMBASS!

So yeah Morgana breaks up with him and he tries to go after her  and Gosalyn, who was there the whole time with eek and squeak,  decides she needs to get the two back together. 

I mean at least Gosalyn MEANS well. As a result despite her helping them not being a good idea, she’s one of the most likeable characters in the episode. At least for now. The most likeable?

Yes. REALLY. Now granted he’s as much of a bastard as always; After seeing Morg’s tantrum he wants to seduce her back to evil to help with his diamond scheme, unsurprisingly he’s the one stealing them and his plan to do so.. is not all that bright as he fakes being good to get into her good graces.. forgetting that he’s going to need to show her he’s bad again for any of his plan to work, as during the climax i’ts revealed he’s using a candy company as a front for diamond smuggling. Now granted that.. is actually really clever as no one’s going to think to check a shipment of choclate boxes for diamonds unless their tipped off and he even mentions starting a candy company earlier, so that being his scheme dosen’t come out of left field and i’ts  a clever misdirect that you’d THINK he was lying about the Candy Company.  But while Negsy doesn’t’t escape the contagious case of stupidity everyone’s got this episode, he’s still entertaining as ever and Jim cummings manages to make saying “Well be the best of pals” pants crappingly terrifiying. So Negaduck is a delight as always even if his plan makes little sense, as his way of going about it is still clever: he fakes being good and both uses this to make darkwing jealous, thus making him seem irational, and to provide a shield and also forces himself on their valentine’s date. He even gets past Morgana rightfully beign supsicous by playing to her past. So yeah not the best plan OVERALL but damn if he still isn’t awesome.  They visit a carnival, ah feels like home, though this one has a freak show where MORGANA feels like she’s home. After trying to fry Darkwing and making him look like the bad guy Negaduck manages to seperate the two in the tunnel of love then use darkwing’s own jackassery against him by claming he left saying once a crook always a crook. He hten.. comes on way too strong, first asking if she’s thought about going back to crime when they get back to her place and then isn’t resceptive when he just tries to fully turn on the charm. Oh and Darkwing walks in and thinks his gilrfriend is cheating despite her not returning Negaducks affections because he’s a douchebag.  Gosalyn is in the house at the same time as after Negaducks earlier deception, Eek and Squeak flew her back to Morgana’s house to use the Necronomiduck, which talks like he just walked out of Beast’s house because of course he does, and gets a love potion.. which they accidently spray on Darkwing instead. So we do get one of the few GOOD parts of the episode where Darkwing acts all buddy buddy to negaduck and Negaduck even gets rid of him just by telling him to go jump off a cliff. And the combination of Drake acting all sachrine again, much like posiduck, and Negaduck’s clear annoyance and confusion is just comedy gold. 

Sadly that ends and Drake returns and a fight breaks out with Morgana accidently freezing darkwing and when trying to freeze negaduck, he simpy reflects it back the obsconds with her ice cube. 

While Gosalyn and co thaw her dad out, Negaduck explains the whole choclate scam and Morgana refuses and they fight, with Negaduck covering her in chocolate.. then darkwing when he shows up as you’d expect. Darkwing however has buzzsaw cufflinks, a wonderful 60′s batman type gag, and saves them both.. btu the love potion ends up on Gosalyn who covers her dad and possible step mom in frosting

Thankfully it wears off fast, and morgana gets the idea to put the love potion, which is air born into the gas gun, finally getting Darkwing to trust her and blasting Negaduck, then suckerpunching him when he gets close. Oh and despite her plan being VERY obvious , Darkwing STILL questions her flirting with the guy. 

So the day is saved and we end with him questioning her order at dinner that night and her .. attacking him. And Gosalyng saying “Well you always hurt the ones you love”

Final Thoughts: .I do not like this episode. I do not like it on a moat, on a boat or with a goat or in any way shape or form even though that breaks the ryhme. Reviewing it only had me finding MORE problems with it. Morgana and Darkwing are so unsympathetic here, with her violence towards him making it seem like “Aw all couples are just the woman chasing the man around with the frying pan.. or lighting bolts in this case” even though that’s sexist as hell at BEST and makes light of domesdtic abuse towards men at worst.  Darkwing gets off no better, being THAT kind of asshole who assumes just because someone used to be a criminal they always will be. Which even in pastiche makes no sense as I can name tons of superheroes, a who USED to be criminals or villians: Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, Luke Cage (Before becoming a superhero), Scott Lang Ant-Man, Hal Jordan Green Lantern, Cassandra Cain, Simon Baz, Mach 10, Songbird, Quicksilver, Rogue, Wonder Man, and Emma Frost. And that’s not getting into the number of heroes, including many on this list, who went evil fo ra bit and came back from it.. some of whom are on this list. Usually his black and white insanity schick works but the episode does nothing to punish him for it and instead makes Morgana seem just as irrational by attacking him. 

While this episode dosen’t use the love potion badly, thank god, with morgana even calling it a bad idea.. i’ts all I can give it outside of negaduck. The love potion and negaduck gags are both great.. but everything else is just so toxic and odious it makes it very hard to enjoy. And so.. this wins the DUBIOUS honor of being the worst Darkwing Duck episode i’ve seen so far. The plot’s weak, filled with horrible outdated ideas even by the time this was made, and no one is likeable, even Negaduck wears out his once he starts getting a bit too pushy with morgana. All in all a waste of potetial and a good episode. Until the next rainbow, this episode can step on a rusty railroad spike and get tetnus. 

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Webs We Weave

A spider has decided to move in. Aang has decided to let it stay.  ...Zuko and Sokka did not agree on this new roommate, and they will do what needs to be done.

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A/N: This was originally a vent-write (because I had a horrifying in-my-face encounter with an airborne spider) that #1. I had way to much fun writing and #2. Spiraled far beyond what I originally imagined lmao

(Also jumping spiders are tiny and precious and wear raindrops as lil hats and Aang would take a bullet for one.)

Rating: G (S for Short Aang is bae)

Words: 2,376

ArchiveOfOurOwn

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Aang had a considerable grip for someone more than two heads shorter than who he was trying to restrain. The young Avatar managed to hold Sokka back, nonetheless. “Stop it, guys! Please! You can’t kill him!” 

Sokka shrugged Aang off. He side-stepped the airbender before he could weasel past him. The kitchen wasn’t big enough for Aang to do a tricky-trick on him this time.

Sokka almost felt bad when Aang’s cheeks puffed red and his fists clenched. Sokka had hit his growth spurt, so Aang had to tilt his head vertical to meet his (in all but blood) big brother’s eyes. He stood on his tip-toes, and Sokka had to bank on his warrior’s discipline not to laugh when Aang couldn’t even get his head close to his shoulder-level.

“You guys can’t kill him! It’s just—It’s just wrong!”

“Yeah, we can. Easily, in fact.” 

“Sokka!”

Sokka rolled his eyes not for the first time that night.

Behind Sokka and just beyond Aang’s reach, Zuko crouched close to the very small, very fuzzy, somewhat colorful eight-legged critter not even a full half-inch big. It huddled into the corner under the umbrella of its tiny web. Its legs looked almost too short for its body. Six of its beady eyes blankly stared at them, but the two eyes at the forefront—which were so big they almost looked like they were glued on—shined with a waxy gloss that rivaled the tears gathering in Aang’s eyes.

“B-But you can’t! Every life is sacred!”

Zuko made his finger into a blowtorch and crouched like a prince performing a formal execution on a war criminal. “It’s the natural order, Aang.”

“But you can’t!”

Aang tried to dart past, but Sokka snagged him by the scruff of his robes. The short airbender yelped as his feet left the ground. He was as light as his element. He squirmed not too unlike Momo when he refused to bathe, but Sokka held him higher so his kicking legs couldn’t even toe the floor.

Aang’s face bloomed several shades of frustration and embarrassment, and Sokka made a mental note to thank Suki for teaching him some elemental chi-blocking. 

Because judging by the look on his little brother’s face, he would have been taking the brunt of all four elements five-times-over by now. 

“Sokka! Put me down!”

“Sorry, but no can do, sport.” Sokka turned his head. “Do it, Zuko.”

Aang thrashed harder. “No, don’t! Zuko, please—!”

Katara—winded and whipping her head around like she was looking for a horde of assassins—appeared from around the corner like Aang’s plea had summoned her from across the continent. A warrior’s discipline and experience let her take in the scene at a glance. Sokka nearly rolled his eyes again when her glare zeroed-in on and burned him in particular. 

Sokka wanted to rub his head. Spirits, he had thought the constant headaches he got during the war would go away, but with stuff like this always happening, it’s no wonder they were getting worse and worse. It felt like his head was about to split in two. 

Katara waterbended her liquid ammo back into her waterskin, though she didn’t become any less of a threat. “Sokka, put him down. Now. And Zuko, what—What in the world are you guys doing?”

“What must be done.”

Katara cocked her jaw at Zuko, grim-faced like a true executioner. “That explains so much and yet so little.”

Aang struggled more, but Sokka just held him higher and away from himself. 

“Katara! Katara, they’re gonna kill Bartholomew!”

Katara looked affronted. “Bartholomew?” She glared between Zuko and Sokka with equal levels of disgust. 

Zuko and Sokka shared a side-eyed glance and an exasperated sigh. 

“Katara, look,” Sokka said, gesticulating with even Aang who was hanging from his grasp like a polarbeardog pup by its scruff, “the spider has to go. It’s a pest, and Zuko and I are not going to let those things curl up and make their home wherever they damn well please. They can hide in the rafters or whatever, but not out in the most open corner of the kitchen. If you let them see that there’s no threat in places where we don’t want them, then, before you know it, we’ll have dozens of them in the kitchen.”

Zuko sagely nodded. His finger was still a torch. Bartholomew’s six small and two abnormally large eyes reflected the red glow of its would-be murder weapon but were otherwise as black as ink and void of fear. “Have to make an example out of it.”

“Thank you, Zuko, for listening to reason.”

“He’s not hurting anything!” Aang gave up his struggle and hung limp in Sokka’s one-handed grip. The young Avatar’s pooled robes made him look even smaller, and Sokka could feel the blinding rays of his wounded pigmypuma eyes getting bigger. “Bartholomew just likes to hang out and watch you cook and—”

Sokka held Aang to his eye-level and got nearly nose-to-nose with his little brother. “It is a spider, Aang.”

Aang poked Sokka’s chest. “He is my friend, Sokka.”

Katara crossed her arms. Despite themselves, Sokka and Zuko both flinched. “Zuko, put that out. Sokka, put Aang down. Now.”

Sokka, in fact, did not put Aang down. He returned her glare with his own and subtly stepped between his love and his sister as he felt the heat of her glare reach the capacity to melt steel bars.

“I can’t do that, Katara.”

“Well, you’d better figure out how before I make you, Sokka.”

The searing whish of Zuko’s finger-torch got stronger. Aang pawed Sokka’s hand on the back of his robe’s collar and cursed his genetics into oblivion for not having hit his presumed growth spurt yet. 

“Zuko, don’t! Please!”

Zuko growled. He put his torch out and threw his arms up. “Fine! Whatever! Just give me a cup or something and I’ll take it outside!”

Aang looked appalled. “You can’t!”

“Why the hell not?”

Aang fiddled with the end of his robe. “He’s—Bartholomew’s been inside too long. He won’t know how to survive outdoors. And he isn’t—”

Sokka groaned. His urge to bang his migraine-aching head into the wall was becoming more of a compulsion that bordered on a need.

“—the outdoor spiders don’t like him? And what if—” 

“Do it, babe.”

The torch was back. “On it.”

“No!” 

Aang got free of Sokka’s grip but didn’t stay free for long. Airbender or not, Sokka was a big brother, and he easily scooped the young monk off his feet again in a light but firm headlock. Aang wiggled and pushed against him, but Sokka tightened his grip. “Bartholomew!” Aang cried out as he reached out to his tiny insect friend.

Katara snarled. “Sokka, put him down! He’s not—Zuko. Don’t. You. Dare.” 

Zuko paused his finger-torch an inch away from its target. The chilly voice that bent the Southern Raiders to their knees crawled like frost freezing over into his ears. 

The pressure in the room nearly crushed them. The universe rippled in a strange way that made the hairs on the napes of their necks stand on end. He and Sokka looked at each other before turning inches at a time to face the tempest-made-flesh who was glaring them down.

Katara’s eyes held the promise of bloodshed, and her voice bellied the threat of major bodily harm. Arms crossed and hackles raised like a sabretooth-mooselion, she stalked towards them. 

“You two are not going to lay hand or foot on Bartholomew. Got it?”

Sokka rolled his eyes again and tightened his slippery grip on the escape-artist whining and wiggling in his hold. He wound one of his arms around Aang’s middle to pin him flush against him. “Or what? Are you going to freeze our—”

“Don’t give her any ideas, you idiot,” Zuko hissed. He put his fire out and stood, though he subtly-but-not-as-subtly-as-he-thought shimmied away from the heated waterbender so that he had partial cover behind his boyfriend.

Sokka turned to him with half-lidded eyes and a half-blinding migraine. “Not you, too. Come on, guys, it’s a spider. It’s not like it’s a puppy or—”

Sokka looked down. The kicked puppy trapped in his arms was looking up. Aang’s grey eyes were miserable puddles of pleading that were so dilated that Sokka almost fell into their tear-filled abyss. 

“Please, Sokka?” 

Aang’s voice broke, and when Katara clasped her hands to her chest in a heartbroken aw while simultaneously letting her brother know her very clear intent to shed blood should Aang shed a tear, Sokka rolled his eyes so hard that his whole head nearly rolled with them. 

Aang tugged the arm around his neck with his one free hand, and he somehow changed his facial anatomy to make his eyes even bigger.

“Pretty please?”

Sokka sighed. “Fine. You can keep the damn spider.”

Aang smiled so brightly that Sokka had to look away to save himself from being blinded. He let Aang go and tried to nurse the now full headache he had. 

Aang raced to his pest-pet and cooed it like it was a newborn. Zuko touched Sokka’s shoulder to offer his condolences and share his frustrations...and to shimmy further out of Katara’s path.

Katara smiled and nodded like they were soldiers in battle who had satisfied their honor. Sokka stuck his tongue out at her. She returned the gesture in kind. Zuko backed him up, and Katara grumbled and looked away in defeat.

Zuko and Sokka, without looking, shared a small high-five.

Aang zoomed up to them and gave his de facto big brothers a group hug. He jumped on the balls of his feet and thanked them profusely. Thankfully, he couldn’t see the moment when the two of them went braindead to his rambling and just nodded when he stopped for breath.

Behind her boyfriend, Katara kissed Aang’s arrow. She plopped her head on top of his as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Aang placed his hands on hers and smiled so wide that the force of it had Zuko and Sokka bracing themselves from being blown backward.

Katara tugged her rambling boyfriend flush against her chest, and she protectively curled around him. When her eyes met their others’, she stuck her tongue out again.

Sokka huffed. He side-stepped Zuko and mirrored his sister’s maneuver with his boyfriend. 

Zuko blushed in Sokka’s arms, Aang redirected his smile to his Sifu Hotman, and Sokka returned his sister's stuck-out tongue with a hidden middle finger in addition. 

Aang, with his smile creeping dangerously close to a supernova, looked back and forth between the water tribe siblings until Zuko, done with this and ready for a nap or a drink or both, gave the airbender a partial head-pat like he really was a polarbeardog. 

...(later that day)

“No! No, Sokka, wait! You can’t!”

“I can! I will! I’m gonna! And you will watch me! Now get out of the way, Aang!”

“But it’s true love! Petunia is his Forever Girl!”

“I cannot put into words the depth and intensity of the fuck I do not give! Now move!��

“Think of their children, Sokka!”

“I AM THINKING OF THEIR CHILDREN!”

Zuko saved his and Katara’s boyfriends from bodily harm while Katara quickly but quietly set up the terrarium she and Zuko had special-ordered for Bartholomew (and Petunia, now, as well).

Aang still kept it in the kitchen, though. He didn't want to stress out his ‘lil babu’ and his ‘lil babu’s babu’ by moving them to a change in scenery.

Sokka (gently but with passion) flicked the corner of the glass whenever he walked by. Zuko flipped it the bird.

Aang saw neither action. He just smiled and melted into Katara’s hug as he relished thinking about how well all of his friends were getting along.

Bartholomew and Petunia watched on from their new home in the corner on the counter.

And they watched.

And they watched.

And they watched.

And though they were nocturnal, they always crawled out of their hide when the humans’ voices drew near so that they could watch them some more.

...That night—Petunia’s first in the house, to Sokka’s dismay—Bartholomew and Petunia crawled onto the clump of bark and moss outside their burrow. The moon was full, and some of its light reached the terrarium just like Aang had hoped their minor change of scenery would do. 

They curled their thin legs together and sat in the strongest of the moon’s rays. And, once everything was quiet and all were asleep, Bartholomew turned to his companion and shared his thoughts with her.

/This Avatar is a strange one./

/Very./  Petunia curled closer to his side. /The two males are very quick to violence, it seems. The Avatar’s mate, as well. I’m surprised you didn’t blast the firebender into the Spirit Wilds./

/I was going to, but I was curious to see how the situation would unfold. I probably should have taken a different form. The lemur and skybison said their master would take interest instead of offense to this form. They failed to mention the opinions of the others sharing his dwelling./

/I’m sorry, my love. It won’t be too much longer, now, will it? Because I swear on the Ancients themselves, if the firebender’s mate flicks the glass one more time, I will flick him into—/

/Calm yourself, my dear. It won’t be too long. The web is woven, and we need him near if it is to work./

/I suppose that is one benefit to this form, then./

/Aye./ Bartholomew drummed all of his legs like he was shifting his weight impatiently. /He is the last one Hei Bai took into his forest during the Solstice. Thankfully, it hasn’t festered long enough to corrupt his spirit./

/Because of the firebender?/

Bartholomew pawed the bits of a dead leaf and would have grumbled if he had a voice. /Yes. And he’s lucky, too, because otherwise I would not have hesitated to banish him and his mate to the Spirit Wilds./

Petunia touched her legs to his and gently herded him back to their den. One of her legs gently tapped his back. /I’m sure you would have, dear./

**************************************

The spiders know all

(Many thanks and more to @coldmentalitystudentme @thecaroliner for helping me settle what these dorks’ reactions to spiders might be!!!)