#something of an abrupt ending but I got stuck and gave up

[frogs-crackcorner]

An Angel All My Own P-2

Simon Riley x reader

Cw: brief mention of knives and guns, fluff

The day had been absolute garbage. It must have been a full moon because every customer that came in seemed to have a stick up their ass. You spent the day calming down entitled jerks and cleaning up after your coworkers. For working in a bakery, you would think they would know how to frost a cake.

When the end of your shift finally came, you couldn't have been happier to leave. You quickly grabbed your purse and jumped in your car. It was a bit of a drive back to your house but you didn't mind. It gave you time to listen to music and unwind. Once you got to the edge of town the houses got farther apart and trees got more dense. The long road to your house was dark and the wind blew eerily. The trees swayed, creaking and groaning. The moonlight cast long shadowy tendrils across the ground. This was the one downside to living out here. No one could hear you scream.

You push those thoughts down and turn into your driveway. You park on the lawn and lock your car. You practically sprint into the house before slamming and locking the door behind you. You flip on the lights. The golden glow of the lamps helps to ease your nerves. You hang up your bag and make your way into the kitchen.

It was nearly ten pm and you still needed to make yourself something for dinner. You rummage through your fridge and cupboards before settling on ramen. You have some leftover greens from a stir fry you made and decide to throw those in there as well. You put the broth and a few eggs into a pot to boil for a while.

With your food cooking, you head upstairs to get into pajamas. You find some cozy pants and a shirt that smells almost clean. It's good enough, you think as you pull the shirt over your head. You drag yourself back downstairs, your feet aching. "Once I have dinner, I'm going to bed," you say to yourself.

You flip on the television before shuffling your way back to the kitchen. The eggs are finished boiling so you turn the heat off and add in your veggies and noodles. You put the lid on the pot to let them steep a little. The tv gives you a decent distraction and you find yourself falling into the lull of your nighttime routine. You turn to grab a bowl out of the cupboard when an abrupt knock nearly makes you drop it.

You make your way to the front door, grabbing a kitchen knife as you go. You weren't expecting any visitors. No one should be out here this late. You cautiously peer through the peep hole, a large dark frame filling your view. You flip on the front porch light to get a better look. Ghost glances up as you turn the light on. You breathe a sigh of relief and unlock the door.

"Hello, Ghost. Sorry, you scared me. Did something happen?," you ask, worried maybe something had happened to Price.

"I need a place to stay tonight. Price said you might have room," he grumbles. He seems nervous, shifting his weight back and forth. Price hadn't said anything to you about Ghost coming over. You made a mental note to chew him out for it later.

"Of course. Come on in," you welcome. Ghost steps into the house and stands awkwardly in the entryway. He glances over to see your still shaking hand holding a knife. He tenses briefly before seemingly remembering where he is and relaxing.

"You should really get a hand gun if you're going to be living out here alone," he remarks.

"I would but I don't have a safe. Besides, I'm not really sure how to handle a gun," you reply. He just nods. The two of you stand there in silence for a moment. You're not entirely sure what to say.

"Um, are you hungry?," you finally ask. Ghost nods again. "Well I just made some ramen if you'd like some," you offer.

"Yes please," he breathed.

"Feel free to make yourself at home. Change the channel to whatever you'd like. I'll go get dinner," you urge. You scurry back to the kitchen and grab another bowl from the cupboard. All you wanted was to go to bed. Now you're stuck playing host to a man you barely know. Why did life have to be so unfair? You dish out ramen into each bowl and add the eggs on top. You sprinkle on a little cilantro as a garnish before going to serve it.

"Careful, it's hot," you warn, handing Ghost the bowl. He's sitting in the chair near the corner of the room. Ghost gently takes the bowl from you. He seems to hesitate for a long moment. You watch as he brings a hand up to his mask and then lowers it again. Something clicks in your brain and before you can stop yourself you're blurting out ,"You don't have to eat with me if you don't want to. You can always eat in your room."

He shakes his head. He lifts his hand again and pulls down the mask. You feel your breath hitch. He had a deep scar twisting from the corner of his mouth up towards his ear. Another scar stuck straight down across his lips and down his chin. A third pulled at the skin underneath his left eye. You could see there were several smaller ones littering his skin.

He was stunning. He looked like something out of a Tim Burton film, in all the best ways. Soft pink lips that stuck out in a pout and long silvery eyelashes. His pale skin lined with purple webs, his deep brown eyes that seemed to notice everything. Like noticing you noticing him.

You quickly avert your gaze, your cheeks heating rapidly. You take a bite of noodles and try to clear your mind. He was hesitant to take his mask off in the first place, you staring at him probably didn't help. You guessed he was probably self-conscious of his scars. Based on the way he wore a mask and kept his head down, he seemed to prefer not to show them. You could understand why but they looked so beautiful to you. You thought he should show them off more. You briefly wondered what caused them. In all likelihood, they were won after countless brushes with death. Some part of you wanted to ask him how he got the scars. How he had eluded death. You wanted to know all his stories. You hardly knew the guy. You knew he couldn't be too bad, after all, Price trusted him alone here with you. But besides both of you knowing Price, you knew nothing about the man sitting across from you.

You watch him bring a spoonful of broth to his lips and gently blow on it before slurping it up. The two of you continue to eat in silence. The soft murmur of the tv fills the room. Ghost was so quiet you scarcely heard him breathe. You glance up just to make sure he really was breathing. You're shocked to see him finishing off the rest of his broth. He basically inhaled that whole bowl. Well, he was a big man and in the military at that. They probably don't get home cooked meals very often.

"Would you like more? I don't have any more ramen but I have some leftover chicken. I can heat that up," you suggest. Ghost seems to think about it before sheepishly nodding his head. You smile and get up to reheat the chicken. Maybe the barge sitting in your living room wouldn't be so bad. He seemed more like a shy school boy than a big, grown military man. You smile to yourself. He sort of reminded you of a Mastiff. They look mean but are about the biggest softies you can find. You plate the chicken and walk back to the living room. Ghost is looking at one of the small shelves on the wall, picking up the little trinkets and inspecting them. He nearly drops a little ceramic bunny when you come back in the room. He quickly puts it back and turns around. The tips of his ears begin to turn pink and you can't help but laugh. Yep. A big softie.

Taglist: @smileykiddie08

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Thanks for reading!

[natasharswifey]

Little red ❤️

Wanda Maximiff & daughter!reader

Requests open <3

Summary: You're Wanda's daughter and a bit of a problem child, but one day things get a little out of hand.

___☆___

A/N: Reader is pretty young in this but I wasn't sure how to put it as a warning, just a short one shot. I find it hard to read Y/N as my name so I'm using [...] instead!

Tags: Accidental mind control, shock, hurt/comfort, guilt, angst with a happy ending <3

___☆___

Little red.

It was a nickname that stuck only a few months after you moved into the compound with Wanda. Mainly because of the colour of your mother's powers, but also because you had quite the temper.

It was always a wonder how so much energy and rage could fit into such a small six-year-old, but it never seemed to end with you.

Whenever you weren't throwing a fit you were the sweetest thing alive, giving hugs left and right and smiling all the time with a toothy grin.

Luckily, Wanda was kind and patient with you, calming you after meltdowns and always being reasonable.

But after starting kindergarten a month ago you'd taken a a turn for the worse.

___☆___

“Honey, you need to calm down.”

“No!” You scream for the fourth time. It was likely you didn't even remember what had gotten you upset in the first place.

Wanda did, though. This had all started two hours ago when she'd calmly explained that eating an entire tub of ice cream wouldn't be healthy, or even possible with such a small stomach.

Fours hours before Natasha had to haul you back inside screaming before you ran out into a storm because you were convinced hanging out with Thor gave you his lightning powers.

Earlier that morning she'd had to battle with you about getting ready for school, then getting out of the car and to the front gate.

The night before you'd refused to go to sleep in your bed, waking half the compound by sneaking around clumsily in the dead of night.

This was pretty much the weekly routine since you'd started school, which meant Wanda had barely gotten any rest between you and working alongside the Avengers.

“I want it now!”

“Please, [………], just take a deep breath and-”

“I don't wanna, I want ice cream!”

So you did remember this time. Either way it wasn't happening, dealing with you would only be more difficult if you were hopped up on sugar.

“You can't have anymore tonight, sweetie, how about tomorrow.”

Before Wanda can continue trying to calm you down you start bawling and she can’t hear herself think.

She had never thought parenting would be so hard, Wanda had always imagined doing this with Vision, but with him gone and you being so difficult this all seemed so impossible.

Wanda can see you take another sharp inhale to begin crying again, placing a hand on your shoulder to try and stop you before you can.

Then you stop.

It was so abrupt that Wanda could immediately tell something was wrong. As she shuffled directly in front of you she covered her mouth in shock at the sight of your eyes swirled with red. Her red.

___☆___

When you came back around everything was fuzzy. You didn't really remember why you were on the kitchen floor, or why your mom looked so scared and sad.

“Hey, [………] talk to me, kid.”

You wanted to ask what was going on, why your mother wouldn't come close to you and why your aunt looked so concerned, but the words got caught in your throat.

In all honesty you just wanted to sleep right on the floor where you were sat, but Auntie Nat was very adamant you should stay awake.

The doctor said you'd suffered a shock and would be better soon. You didn't actually remember what happened in the kitchen, but thought you must have misbehaved terribly because your mom didn't want to be near you anymore.

___☆___

“Wanda?” Natasha whispers quietly, the two of them standing in the doorway watching over you as you slept.

She had decided to move out of the compound away from the city until you fully recovered and Nat had joined you, knowing she would need some help.

“Hey, Nat.”

It had been a week since the accident and Wanda was tired. It wasn't because you had her up at all hours of the night defying your bedtime anymore, it was much worse.

You were silent.

You hadn't spoken a single word to anyone since what had happened. It was hard to tell what was going on in your head since your face often lacked in emotion.

The only time you really acted like a kid was when you took out crayons to draw, even then the only colour you'd use was red.

But the wort part was, Wanda knew it was all her fault.

“How are you holding up?”

Wanda shrugs, “I'm fine.” She's lying through her teeth and they both know it.

“It wasn't on purpose, Wanda.”

“I hurt my own kid.”

“Hey.” Natasha takes her by both of her shoulders, “You were exhausted, you know your powers go haywire when you aren't getting enough rest. The doctor said she'll be better soon- she isn't hurt, you only gave her a little shock that's all.”

The guilt that had been festering since that night came welling up and Wanda finally let herself cry quietly in Natasha’s arms.

___☆___

You woke up a little earlier than usual that morning and did a big stretch before deciding to see what was going on downstairs.

Your mom was curled up on the couch reading a magazine while auntie Nat was in the kitchen frying something.

You tugged so gingerly at her oversized shirt that she didn't even notice you were there until she looked down.

“Hey, Little red. You sleep well?”

You nodded. Out here it was a lot more quiet, and you didn't have to worry about school or your classmates giving you any trouble. Plus your mom was here all the time instead of work. Even if she was being distant.

“Do you want to help me cook breakfast?”

Normally it would be an immediate yes, but you just wanted to be near your mother. You pointed at her and looked up at Nat, clearly wanting to know what to do.

She smiles at you softly, “Go ahead, kid.”

Jumping at the opportunity you scurried over to where she was sitting, slowing down as you got closer. She hadn't yet noticed you, her eyesight blocked by the page in front of her.

You decided to take the opportunity and clamber onto the couch, wriggling until you were in the perfect spot in her arms. She had gone slightly stiff and you could feel her heart pounding, but only cuddled closer to her.

“You guys alright?” Natasha calla from the kitchen, only a small hint of worry in her voice.

“Yeah we're… we're good, right, [……….]?”

You respond by curling up closer, sighing as you closed your eyes.

Wanda's eyes never left you, she was so terrified that she could lose control again, break you, but even with these thoughts swirling around her head, the look of peace on your face as you slept was enough to keep her calm.

___☆___

Notes:

“Marceline, I can feel myself slipping away

I can't remember what it made me say

But I remember that I saw you frown

I swear it wasn't me, it was the crown”

-Remember you, Adventure time

Yayy, happy ending

This wasn't based on the song but its so fitting omg, I don't think I've written something so angsty before but I hope you likeddd :)

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Fanned Out

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 2.1k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's getting worse somehow) NOTE(S): This happens directly after Dog Walking. Another one shot with this reader character is Wardrobe Malfunction (U don't need to read either to know what's going on)

You thought after Ness gave you that sermon earlier, trying to indoctrinate you into the Kaiser cult or whatever, the topic would be over and done with. But no, he’s still going. You wonder how he can go on and on, and on, and on, and on about something so worthless.

Maybe you’re becoming a part of the problem, though, and this isn’t a notion that occurs to you often. You’re sitting next to Kaiser of your own volition, after all, leaving you between them while Ness lectures you from the other side.

In your defense, your plan seemed like it would have a high chance of success. You assumed for sure Ness would be too embarrassed to keep talking about that stuff right in front of Kaiser, and here you are, wrong.

Kaiser also appears to still be half-asleep or something because he’s just picking at his breakfast without paying any heed to either of you. His movements are sluggish and he’s unresponsive, which makes his company about fifteen times more pleasant than it usually is.

“I mean, it’s just- How dare you take Kaiser’s first kiss so carelessly?! If you’re going to do that, it’s at least worth a confession.”

Your abrupt laughter results in you choking on your food and sends you into a severe coughing fit, to the point you’re slapping the table with too much force and gasping for breath. You knew it. This man is going to put you in the dirt.

It takes Kaiser precisely two blinks to register what Ness just blurted out, and it does a great job of shaking the drowsiness out of his system. The two of them are ignoring you as if you’re not on the brink of asphyxiating, and Kaiser seethes, “Ness, you shithead! Just because I fucking tell you something doesn’t mean you need to announce it to the world. What the hell?”

“Sorry, Kaiser,” Ness says, flinching. Apparently he has ordained that your offenses haven’t yet stacked up to deserving the death penalty, though, because he takes mercy on you and smacks you on the back until you spit out whatever got stuck in your throat.

Kaiser stares at you as if your hacking was in some way inconvenient to him. Ness is still babbling, muttering apologies both of your ways (though the ones directed at Kaiser are, of course, more fussy).

Despite the post-almost dying haze, you speak in your typical derisive fashion, “You can’t be serious? That was your first kiss? That’s just pathetic.” For good measure, you add in another cackle at the end.

“It’s not like I’ve never had the opportunity to kiss anyone,” justifies Kaiser. What to make this sentence any sadder than Ness nodding in agreement in the background, like he feels the need to provide some kind of confirmation? “I don’t care about useless gestures like this. How many people have you kissed before, anyway, huh?”

“A profitable amount.” You shrug.

“What does that even mean,” Ness asks in the most incurious tone possible.

“Honestly a little disappointing you’d waste your time on stupid shit instead of giving football your all. I expected better from you.”

Wow, leave it to Kaiser to try and make you look like a loser for this. You kind of respect the move, but you won’t admit it to his face.

“I guess it’s a little wild I have experiences outside of football. Wanna know what’s wilder, though?”

“No. Talk to the-”

“How quick you folded even though you’ve never done it before. That's crazy.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t discourage you from continuing, “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. I tend to have this effect on people.”

“Shut up! Kaiser is not easy.”

“You’re such an embarrassment,” Kaiser says, looking at Ness with a very pronounced lack of amusement.

He is about to apologize again — what is he even sorry for? existing? — but this brings your attention back to him, and you swing an arm around his shoulders with a look of intrigue. “You seem like the kinda guy who's never kissed anyone before either. Want me to remedy that for you, too?”

“N-No! Why would you even want to do that with me? You’re sick.” With these final words, Ness proceeds to… hop out of his seat and run off to a different table. Overkill much? Does he have no self esteem at all?

You stare incredulously at the spot he was previously sitting in along with Kaiser, and then you turn to look at each other with a vague sense of confusion as if you’re both unsure you actually witnessed this happen.

“So,” Kaiser begins, fumbling around his food with his fork in a manner he probably considers nonchalant, “if you didn’t notice it was my first time kissing someone, that means it was good and you liked it.”

You smile at him. “With how skilled you are at jumping to conclusions, you should consider a career change to obstacle course racing. Would you like a performance review? Constructive criticism? A rating from one to ten?”

In an impressive show of restraint, Kaiser doesn’t throw any of the bowls in your face.

___

Kaiser has been staring at himself in the mirror for more than thirty minutes with a thoughtless smile on his face.

You’re getting this estimate from the fact he was doing this when you first walked in, and the shit you were taking was on the tougher side, and now you’re done and he’s still at it. He does this nonsense every morning, though, so you’re about to leave him alone… until an idea crosses your mind.

You approach, your reflection coming closer and closer ominously. “Kaiser.”

“Go away. You’re interrupting me,” he says, despite not doing anything you can see at all.

“Hear me out for a second. You can go back to psychotically talking to yourself after.”

“I wasn’t ‘psychotically talking to myself.’”

“Really? Because it looked to me like you were giving yourself a motivational speech in your head.”

“What the fuck do you want? Just get on with it. I don’t have time for this.”

“Clumsy topic segue. But anyway, I’ve been feeling kind of bad about the stuff with the kiss.” Just the mention of it is enough to make him pull an annoyed expression, but you disregard it. “I wanna do something nice for you.”

He looks at you in a way someone who just swallowed an entire lemon, with the exocarp and all, might — weird, but unmistakably thrown off and irked. In a sarcastic tone, he asks, “Why would you want to do something nice for me? Since when are you such a good samaritan?”

You turn around and pull yourself up over the vanity, unfazed by his attitude. “Let me do your eyeliner thing for you.”

…?

It is obvious you have an ulterior motive here. Kaiser’s eyes dart between you and the make-up appliance. He only has his curiosity to blame when he hands it over to you after a while of paranoid scrutiny.

You lean in and push his hair aside with your fingers, using your other hand to draw the usual wing under his waterline. Despite the lack of suspicious or otherwise unusual movements on your end, Kaiser is tense. Nothing sinister is happening and it’s weirding him out.

You finish and switch to the other one. This is unsettling. A sense of foreboding looms over him, and though you’re being prompt about it, the process seems long and arduous in his mind.

Once you’re done, in one swift motion — as if you’ve practiced before — you press the tip of the pen against his forehead and scrawl something, before backing off and beaming at him with smug satisfaction. It all happens so quickly, he doesn’t react with more than a blink at first.

Kaiser’s brows furrow and he glances at himself in the mirror, confirming the unthinkable. “Did you just sign my fucking forehead?”

“For my biggest fan.”

“I’m not your fan. Get over yourself. You’re not Drake.”

“I figured it was fair you’d get my first ever autograph, since I got your first kiss.”

“Go to hell and burn while you’re at it! I have to clean this now.”

“Why would you clean it?” you ask. What kind of moron are you, Kaiser wonders. “I think you should get it tattooed. It costs millions, you know? In fact, you should show it off in front of the others.”

“Please. Whatever I wipe myself with would cost ten times more than your signature ever will.”

“If it helps you sleep at night, Kaiser,” you relent, still coming off as very pleased with yourself, which makes this whole thing more annoying than it needs to be. Though he looks like he’s about to bite your face off, you invade his personal space even further and inch closer, your nose almost brushing against his. “You can say anything you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my little bitch.”

“Stop calling me that! What’s wrong with you?!” he fumes, reaching to grip your waist and attempting to push you off the countertop.

You almost fall despite resisting, too, but you throw the eyeliner at his face, and it creates enough of a diversion for you to slide down without accident. You’re at the door by the time you turn around to address him again. “I have to admit, the elephantine size of your forehead is what really made this possible for me. Thank you for this opportunity.”

Ele- ele-what?

He clenches his fists, grits his teeth, on the cusp of a hypertension headache. You’re so going to get it! Kaiser doesn’t know yet how he will go about hiring a hitman to kill you while you’re both still stuck in Blue Lock, but Ness is here, which means murder isn’t entirely off the table.

___

Kaiser relays the story of your little bathroom encounter to Ness with the seriousness and urgency of a kidnapper laying down ransom demands. Another person’s name on his- his- his… royal but not at all big forehead, it’s sacrilegious. He’s getting pissed off all over again thinking about it.

Of course, Ness, too, treats the matter as deserving of the gravity Kaiser is giving it. “Don’t worry,” he says. But Kaiser isn’t worried. He is bloodthirsty. “There’s only one way to deal with inflated balloon heads like that. I’ll take care of it.”

“How? You know something I don’t?”

With his usual guileless smile on his face — reminiscent of a frog — Ness leads the way and, in an uncharacteristically confident manner, promises you ‘will be very embarrassed.’

By now Kaiser is following him just because he wants to see whatever is about to go down. It doesn’t take them long to cross the field and reach you.

You’re bouncing a ball on your foot, and once you notice them, you wave with grandiosity. “Hello, numbskulls. Did you come closer so you can admire me better?”

Kaiser doesn’t even know where to begin with this statement, but Ness spares him the effort because without any hesitation, he says, “Yes.”

Snapping his head to stare at him with offense, Kaiser now has to wonder if Ness was the real maniac all along.

You seem to share similar sentiments because your eye twitches and remains stuck half open after. The ball rolls away when you fail to catch it. “What- huh? Huuuuh? You’re just gonna agree with me?”

“Yes. You’re an amazing player with exceptional abilities,” Ness says pleasantly. Candidly. “Not to mention how clever you are. You’re also really good at thinking on the spot. I don’t just mean on the field, but in general, too. Your wit is impressive.”

These compliments are way too upfront and honest. A chill goes down your spine and you gape at him, disturbed. Then your expression morphs into something more awkward — nonplussed, maybe, nervous in some manner — and you say, “I-I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t like it.”

Probably realizing your usual poise is ebbing away, you grimace, cover your face with your forearm as if you are doing a bad job of shielding yourself from imaginary sunlight and pivot around before sprinting away from them at max speed while screaming something incoherent in terror.

“What?” Kaiser yells, gesturing at your fleeing figure. “What’s with that reaction?! No way? What? Over a few nice words? What the hell? What!”

As usual, Ness’s appearance is innocent enough, but there’s a certain glint in his eyes now, like he’s hungry for more power. “Kaiser… Kaiser, I… I did it!”

Kaiser considers making a getaway, but he already saw how unbecoming it is.

___

Oh I know you guysare sick of me...

My sheltered no life experiences outside of kicking a ball Kaiser agenda. With the way he acts I wouldnt be surprised if his mother didnt hold him after giving birth to him

[prettygoododds]

Thank you so much @rimeswithpurple @emeryhall @roomwithanopenfire @monbons @nausikaaa @artsyunderstudy and @martsonmars for the tags! You can definitely tell everyone is done digging themselves out of the holidays and countdown. I'm loving all the content I'm seeing.

I've particularly liked seeing some people's fandom's resolutions. It made me think of my own.

I spent a lot of last year trying to find a good balance between the things I'm obligated to do and the things I want to do. By the time the COC hit, I was in the mindset that the things I needed to do were too much and I had to skip COC this year. This made me incredibly angry and resentful. I hated that the thing I wanted to do was the thing I gave up. So, with spite fueling me forward, I did the COC and I'm so glad I did. But that did make me reflect on how I proceed.

I'm not going to overthink things. I'm going to do the things that make me happy. And what makes me happy is this fandom, the supportive people in it and writing. I need to lean on other folks for the things that are obligations. I don't have to do all the things, but I should at least do the things that bring me joy.

That being said, who wants to see a little of that joy?

Picket Fence blurb:

This happens again and again.  An almost blowie in his kitchen, a hot and heavy grind on his sofa that came to an abrupt halt when his aunt stopped by, and one unfortunate tumble in his garden that ended with both of us thorny and grumpy. And look, I’m all for edging, but not like this. Not spread out over days and days and with no actual end in sight.  I’m ready to explode. Literally.

A non-Carry On blurb (A Power Unbound Jack/Alan) :

“Apologies my lord,” Alan says back, breathing heavily into neck. “I wasn’t expecting you.” “Am I to understand you are always entertaining handsome men at your desk then?” “There was a handsome man at my desk?” Alan says cheekily. “I only saw you, my lord. Who could see anyone else once you’re in the room.” “You do not have to placate me,” Jack growls, frustrated by his own insecurities. “I know a younger, better man when I see one.” “You’ll have to point them out to me next time,” Alan says, catching Jack’s chin in his fingers and forcing him to look him in the eyes. “For I saw no one who could hold a candle to my stubborn aristocrat.” Jack has to close his eyes and absorb that last sentence.

I have something else that I'll be posting soon, but I don't want to spoil it so just know you'll see something soon-ish.

I've also got to start work shopping something for the COBB. If anyone has an idea I would not be opposed to a little jump start because I am stuck.

Ok, well, I feel this got wordy. Thanks if you stayed to the end. Here's some very non-pressure tags:

@ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername

@shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla

@blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature

@shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @hushed-chorus @youarenevertooold

@noblecorgi @talentpiper11 @bookish-bogwitch

[rainebelowzero]

HAAIIII.. erm.. could i request kurt being a creep abt reader? like reader is friends w/ kurt and kurts pathetic n awkward ugh.. maaybbee kurt coming prematurely n sum degradation? :p LOVE YOU!!

I combined these two hopefully that's okay

notes: GUYS I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING DEAD 😿😿😿 I just quit my job and then got a new one that kinda requires more work so I haven't had much privacy to work on anything, I also just completely lost my ability to write for some reason??? I've had horrible writer's block but I'm not quitting anytime soon so don't worry 😼

♡ some degradation, premature ejaculation, kurt being kinda creepy, the reader is a little silly 😺, overstim, kind of abrupt ending sorry guys 🫤 ♡

Kurt was your best friend, so of course you stuck around him as much as you could. It was a completely normal attachment, so who did it really affect if you made an alt account to watch his streams? It gave him that dopamine he needed to see a new viewer, so you saw it as an act of kindness.

Though he was your best friend, he was a little creepy at times, and you're pretty sure you saw one of your favorite shirts that went missing a few days ago in the background of one of his videos. His gaze always lingered for uncomfortably long, especially if it was particularly hot outside and you were wearing less clothing than usual, but he was cute, so you gave him a pass.

That was until you started to hear him talk about you while you were…roleplaying as a different person in his chat. He started out saying casual things, you were hot, you had nice hands, etc. And it definitely turned you on to think about him being down bad for you. It almost completely changed when, during one of these streams, he had a very obvious boner while he was talking about you, to which you definitely rubbed one out.

The minute he ended the stream, you started to think of a plan. You had to fuck that man. The next time you saw him, you went all in with the touching. You sat in the passenger seat as he talked about something random to his chat with about three viewers, slowly sliding your hand over and resting on his thigh. He glances down at it, confused, especially as you join the conversation casually, acting like nothing is happening.

The next time you do it, it's when the two of you stop to get food from a food truck. Kurt went to get it while you sat with the live stream, but before he left, you ran a hand over his shoulder. He stared at you for a second, eyes slightly wide, before he got out of the car.

At the end of the day, you decide to hang out at his place. You were slowly growing more frustrated, none of your little hints working, though you were more frustrated at yourself for thinking they would work in the first place. You stand, coming up behind Kurt and putting your hands on his shoulders as he sits in his gaming chair. He's slightly startled, but pushes his headphones off and smiles up at you.

“Kurt, we need to fuc- TALK. We need to talk.” You say to him, and he raises an eyebrow. You continue. “I know about your..feelings. I've heard you, I've seen the way you look at me.”

Kurt turns red, an expression you've never seen on his face, his eyes wide. “W-what are you talking about?”

You stare at him before going over to his pillow, lifting it and yanking your stolen shirt out from under it. He stands up, nervous that you're angry about it.

“I don't- I have no idea what that is.” He says, very obviously lying. You move closer to him, tossing the shirt down.

“Kurt, you're a fucking freak.” He blushes even more and he barely knows how to react, but you glance down and see that he's getting hard. “You're into that?” You ask, moving even closer to him, expecting him to back up, but he doesn't, he just bites his bottom lip slightly, closing his eyes for a second before staring at you with an almost needy look.

“I heard all of the things you said about me in those streams. I know what you want me to do to you..” You trail off.

“Really?” He asks. You nod, before sliding a hand down to the waistband of his pants, testing the waters. He doesn't stop you, staring at you with still wide eyes. You realize you're probably gonna have to do all of the work, so you lean in and kiss him, to which he automatically reacts, kissing you back. His legs almost buckle, and you push him back into his chair, straddling him. You're not certain if his gaming chair can handle the weight of two grown men, but there was only one way to find out.

You keep kissing him, and his hands move between your waist and the arm rests of the chair, not knowing what to do with them. Your lips move to his neck, and he lets out a desperate whine, almost suspiciously strained, until you look down and see the front of his pants slowly getting a dark spot. He looks at you, panting heavily as you stare back at him.

“Seriously?” You ask, deadpan. His face flushes, trying to find the words to apologize before you lean closer, kissing his neck again. “I barely even touched you.” You say lowly, your hand pulling his cock out of his pants, feeling it twitch from the sensitivity as he whimpers.

You slowly stroke him, his cum being used as lube as he moans and writhes underneath you. He looks up at you, his lips slightly parted as he tries to buck up into your hand. You speed up, kissing his neck again until he moans loudly, his hand gripping onto your wrist tightly, shooting his load across your shirt and hand. He pants heavily, head falling back with some of his hair stuck to his forehead.

You back off of him, standing, before unzipping your own pants, as he gives you an exhausted but very excited look.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! So I have this request. Imagine Tommy has a daughter who's very cocky and isn't afraid to argue with anyone. It doesn't matter if you're 2 or 50, and she's her to be a teenager. ( preferably 13 ) If you can, and want to, of course. ( this is my first time asking for a request, and I'm so nervous, Idek why )

Hey Love,

This request is awesome! Thanks for trusting me with it! Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Kidnapping / peaky themes

Tommy felt his vision start to swim and the words on the phone became inaudible. The man hung up the phone and he knew he needed to move. These feelings uncovered old wounds. That time he had to rescue Charlie when he was just a small boy. He got one kid back and he could do it again. 

He pulled himself together and immediately without thought sought out Arthur who was sitting at his desk reading the paper. 

“He’s taken her hostage.” The words barely made it out of Tommy's mouth. 

“Told you that would happen,” Arthur grumbled but Tommy could see the pain and fear in his eyes. “JOHNNY!” Arthur called out over his shoulder into the back room.

“Again!” John said running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.” 

__________________________________________________

You were not very comfortable in the trunk of the car. Something you felt your capture needed to understand. They had not taken your criticism and had begun to ignore you. 

You weren't entirely sure they could hear you up front with the engine turned on and everything. If there was a small chance they could hear you, you were going to take it. 

You started singing God Save the King at an ungodly volume. Why that song? You didn't know. But you were sure it would annoy the piss out of anyone in earshot. 

You mentally counted every turn the car took. Trying to make a map of how to get back to school, back to safety. You sang so loud your lungs and throat burned. 

Eventually, the car came to an abrupt stop. Clearly done so your body would roll around in the trunk. You let out a little scream then lay still. 

Somewhere in your mind, you realized they could have driven to the river. Maybe they would open the trunk and shoot you immediately then dump your body. 

Jesus and the last song you would have been singing was God Save the King. Fuck, that’s not how you wanted things to end. 

The trunk opened and thankfully no one had any weapons drawn. The men looked weathered though you were happy to see they were enjoying your company. 

“Who the fuck taught you to drive.” You looked at the man with the keys in his hand. “Jesus Christ you suck.” 

“Look here you little twerp. Shut your mouth.” He grabbed your arm shaking your whole frame. “And keep it shut. Tight.” 

You felt that lovely sense of rage cloud all of your senses and leaned into the man's face. Your eyes were wide and you knew that he knew just where those icy blue orbs came from. 

“Make me.” You said softly. You could feel the discomfort run through the man. He didn’t want to be here, he was holding you for ransom no doubt. The reluctance to follow through with any violence was clear in his features. He gave the man next to him a look. 

“Get her in the fucking building.” The other man ordered avoiding your gaze. They moved you into the abandoned warehouse and sat you on a chair.

“Look at the two of you!” You said as they bound your body with rope. “Real classy people. I’m sure your mothers are very proud.” 

The man rolled his eyes. 

“Stuck with a couple of real winners.” You could see the man's jaw tick and you decided to simmer down a little. You needed to think up a plan. 

“So do you believe in God then?” You asked and he sat down in the chair across from you. A bright light turned on overhead and you realized with a spark in your eye that they were going to interrogate you. 

“I’ll be asking the questions here.” The man said in a sturdy voice. 

“That hardly seems like fun. I’ll trade you a question for a question. How bout that?” The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Told you we should have taken the boy instead.” The man standing in the shadows said. 

“Charlie. Great man. Great brother. You want to know why he is such an excellent -” 

“No. What I want to know is why your dad stole from Mr. Crowe.” 

“Mr. Crowe, he sounds ominous. If I were writing a book I’d definitely make him the villain.” You tried to look around at all the exits. “What did my dad steal?” 

“Money and a shipment of drugs headed for New York.” 

“Doesn't sound like my dad. He’s a politician, a man of the government.” You explained. “Have you ever been to New York?” 

The man slapped his hand down on the table next to him. You wanted to avoid listening to more boring threats so you plowed on. 

“I have thought about going to New York, but America seems so dull. Their art is sooo boring. Do you like art?” You asked him honestly. 

“No.” 

“Really? You strike me as a man of higher education.” You smiled like a cat. “Surely there must be an artist or era you like. Everyone likes art.” 

“Shut up.” He growled. “Just shut up.” 

“Well, I don't know if you know this, but I just turned 13. You know what that means?” You looked at both men. “Means dating, and while I’m here I might as well practice small talk.” 

Both men let out a groan and one of them came over and landed a blow across your cheek. You could feel the fear radiating off of him as if God himself had told him what the cost of hitting one of Thomas Shelby’s kids was.

“My aunt hits harder.” You sneered. “Now you're not art people, that’s fine. How do you feel about sports then? You gamble?” You prattled on. Even if they did kill you, you wanted the satisfaction of annoying them.

________________________________________________________

Tommy negotiated with the man, sending him to an empty shipping yard. He didn't steal any drugs or money. Stuff like that was so far behind him that it was almost laughable. His daughter being held captive was not laughable. 

Alfie came up from London to storm the building with him. Alfie’s extra men went with Arthur and John to ambush the men going to the shipping yard. The whole thing was unbelievably stupid on Mr. Crowe’s part but he would meet the consequences nonetheless. 

As they parked outside the warehouse Tommy painfully waited until the rest of the men had the building surrounded. He knew better than to run head-first into traps these days. 

“No, see that’s where you're wrong. The issue is far more complicated than workers' rights. The aspect of the government being heavily involved in the lives of the people -” 

He followed the sound of your voice and found you tied to a chair with a large white light shining down on you. Two men looked possibly exhausted and frustrated. She prattled on about her views on Communism and shot down their defenses easily. 

“Not to late to leave her here mate.” Alfie joked and Tommy gave him an icy glare. He watched your eyes dart towards where they stood in the shadows. He saw the bruise forming on your cheek. 

Alfie wasn't in a joking mood anymore. 

“Boys I hate to change the subject as we were getting close to some interesting ideas. But we should move this back to religion. If you have one, I think you should make your peace.” They gave her a confused look. 

Tommy watched as Alfie went to untie you letting him start to have his way with the two men. 

______________________________________

“Put me down.” You growled. Alfie placed you down on the wet concrete in front of the building. 

“Not exactly a warm welcome.” He said looking at your cheek with anger in his eyes. 

“You suggested leaving me there!” 

“I just put 100 men on this mission to get you back, love. Leaving you there wasnt an option.” He answered easily 

“Then why did you say it.” Your eyes narrowed at him. He was your favorite person to argue with other than your dad. 

“I just thought it was funny that even when kidnapped you don't shut up.” 

“Do you want me to shut up?” A slight bit of hurt washed into your tone. 

“You wouldn't be my favorite niece if you did.” He ruffled the hair on your head and you were grateful he helped your dad.

________________

“So I started a re-read of the old testament.”

He let out a groan. 

Lizzie cried and threw her arms around you when you walked into the front door. You fought back your own tears as the reality of the situation hit you. Her embrace melted away all the anger that held you together. 

It was just you and her as your dad had to make phone calls to sort out the rest of the conflict. The tears started and she helped you upstairs to your room. 

“I just argued the whole time. I don't know why I’m crying now.” You tried to wipe your tears on the back of your hand. 

“Because you're still a girl at the end of the day.” Lizzie shrugged and helped you get into the bath. 

“Well, it’s stupid and I am not stupid.” You said trying again to stop the tears. 

“Darling, there is nothing stupid about your ability to feel. It’s what makes you exceptional.” She placed your robe and pajamas on the counter before leaving to give you some space. 

You got yourself sorted and were happy that the house was mostly empty. You stuffed yourself between your parents on the couch in the study. 

Your dad’s arm wrapped around you and you felt him hold on to you tightly.

[delusional-through-and-through]

PROJECT 💥

Next?

It was another day in U.A. High School, and Class 2-A was seated in their usual spots, listening to their homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta, also known as Eraserhead, his ever-present sleeping bag draped over his shoulder. His bored expression hadn’t changed, but his voice carried authority as he addressed the class.

"I have an assignment for you," his monotone voice carrying over the classroom.“As your final project for this semester, you will create a Research on a hero who has made a significant impact on society. This will include their contributions, the challenges they faced, and the lessons they’ve left behind."

The announcement sparked immediate chatter among the students. Midoriya's hand shot up, ready to ask a dozen questions, while Kirishima leaned over to whisper something to Kaminari, who is grumbling about the said project.

The sound of their voices filled the air until Aizawa's cold glare froze them in their seats.

“I’m not finished,” he said flatly, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel. The room fell silent, and the students straightened in their chairs.

"You’ll also be working in pairs." Aizawa continued. “And before anyone asks, your partner will be whoever is sitting next to you. No switching."

Kanata felt her stomach drop. She slowly turned her head to her left.

There she saw none other than Bakugou Katsuki, the ever so histeric guy of their class. His arms were crossed, and his crimson eyes were filled with their usual fiery determination.

The explosive blonde leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. He noticed her glance and sneered. "What’re you looking at, Braids?"

Braids is the nickname Bakugou gave her when they were in their first year, because she always styles her long hair into Dutch braids.

Kanata groaned inwardly, burying her face in her hands. “Why can’t I catch a break?” she mumbled to herself.

“You will draw lots to determine which hero you’ll study. Come forward when called." Aizawa announced.

When it was Bakugou and Kanata’s turn to draw lots, Bakugo practically snatched the slip from the box.

He opened it and smirked. "All Might," he announced, his tone filled with satisfaction.

Kanata let out a sigh of relief. "At least it's All Might. There's so much material on him, books, news articles, even documentaries. This might actually be manageable."

Bakugou turned to her with a raised brow. “Oi. Don’t get too comfortable, idiot. We’re not slacking off just ‘cause it’s easy.”

Kanata rolled her eyes but decided to keep her comment to herself. “Fine. But can we agree not to argue the whole time? I’d rather not spend my time with a headache.”

Bakugou leaned back in his chair and snorted. “Tch. Don’t give me a reason to argue, and we won’t have a problem.”

...........

The bell rang signaling the end of class, the students of 2-A began packing up their things. The chatter of her friends making weekend plans filled the air.

Kanata was still sitting when a shadow loomed over her desk. She looked up to see Bakugou standing there, his arms crossed and his usual scowl firmly in place.

“Oi, Braids." he began, his voice sharp and impatient. “We’re gonna start tomorrow. At my place.”

Kanata blinked, surprised by the abruptness. “Uh… your place?”

“Yeah, my place,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Since it’s the weekend, we’re not stuck in the dorms. Meet me at the station at 8 a.m. sharp. Got it?”

Kanata opened her mouth to respond, but Bakugou cut her off. “And don’t even think about being late,” he added, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. “If you’re not there on time, I’ll drag your sorry ass to my house myself and blow you into pieces.”

She sighed, already feeling the pressure. “Fine, I’ll be there,” she said, trying to sound as motivated as possible.

“Good,” he said, smirking slightly before turning to leave. “Don’t screw it up, Braids.”

As Bakugou stomped away, Kanata rested her head on her palm, groaning softly. “Great. Just great,” she muttered. “Not only do I have to deal with him this weekend, but now I have to deal with him in his natural habitat.”

............

As Kanata walked down the hallway, she couldn’t help but recall the time she and Bakugou were paired together, during the start of the semester.

It was a disaster.

They’d been assigned to create a tactical plan for an urban rescue. Bakugou, still recovering from the injuries he sustained during the war, was already on edge.

His frustration with his limited physical ability boiled over one evening, when Kanata questioned one of his decisions, he completely lost it.

The next thing she knew, an explosion had ripped through part of the dorm kitchen.

While no one was hurt, the cleanup took hours, and Aizawa gave them both a stern warning about their “team dynamics.”

As she reached the dorm common area, Kirishima approached her with his usual cheerful grin.

“Hey, Kanata!” he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “You’re paired with Bakugou again. You’ve got this! Just… uh… try not to make him blow anything up this time, yeah?”

Kanata groaned and gave him a thumbs up.

..........

Kanata arrived at the station just as the clock struck 8 a.m. She spotted Bakugou immediately.

He was leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed, and an annoyed scowl already plastered on his face.

“You’re late, Braids” he snapped as soon as she approached.

Kanata frowned, glancing at her phone. “No, I’m not. It’s exactly 8 a.m. Check the time if you don’t believe me.”

“Tch. If you’re not here five minutes early, you’re late.” he retorted, pushing off the wall and walked toward the train without waiting for her.

Kanata huffed but followed him, muttering under her breath, “He’s impossible.”

The train ride was mostly silent, save for the faint sound of Bakugou tapping his fingers impatiently on his knees. Kanata stole a few glances at him, wondering what his home would be like.

She had only ever seen glimpses of his personal side at the dorms, and even then, he mostly kept to himself.

.............

When they finally arrived, Kanata found herself standing in front of a neat, well-maintained house. She blinked in surprise. “This is your place?”

Bakugou turned to her with a raised brow. “Yeah. What, you expect a dump or somethin’?”

“No" she said, then give him a teasing glance, “But it does gives off major nepo baby vibes. Only child, huh? Bet your parents spoils you rotten.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his glare intensifying. “You wanna get blown up?”

Kanata laughed, raising her hands in a mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying!”

He didn’t respond, instead he grabbed her arms and drag her. “Shut up and move. We’ve got work to do.”

“You know,” she said, trying to keep up with his brisk pace, “you’re really bad at interacting with girls. Like, seriously bad. How the hell do you even have a fan club at school?”

Bakugou froze mid-step, his grip on her arms tightening slightly as he turned to glare at her. His face flushed faintly, though whether from irritation or embarrassment, Kanata couldn’t tell.

“I didn’t ask for those extras to follow me around like idiots. You think I’ve got time to care about stupid fangirls?” he barked, his voice loud as usual.

“The first years were always gossiping about your ‘cool, bad-boy aura.’ But seriously, with the way you act? It’s a miracle they still like you.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut her off, dragging her l again. He unlocked the door with a sharp twist. “Get inside before I leave you out here.”

Kanata chuckled at his threats. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Geez, sensitive much?”

“Damn right I’m sensitive when people talk nonsense!” Bakugou said, stepping further into the house.

...........

Bakugou led Kanata into the living room, muttering under his breath about her unnecessary talking.

Kanata took a seat on the sofa, glancing around the neatly decorated space. It was surprisingly cozy, with framed photos and small trinkets lining the shelves.

Before she could comment, a loud, confident voice echoed from the kitchen. “Katsuki! Is that you?!”

Bakugou Mitsuki appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her resemblance to Bakugou was unmistakable, though her warm smile was far from her son’s usual scowl.

Her sharp eyes flicked over to Kanata and a sly smile spread across her face. “Well, well, what’s this? Did my little Katsuki finally bring home a girlfriend?”

“WHAT THE HELL, OLD HAG?!” Bakugou exploded. “SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU CRAZY WOMAN!”

“CRAZY?!” Mitsuki snapped back, her hands on her hips. “IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER, YOU LITTLE BRAT?”

Kanata blinked, caught in the crossfire as the two began shouting at each other.

“I BRING A CLASSMATE HOME TO WORK ON A PROJECT, AND YOU START WITH THIS CRAP?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands twitching as if he were holding back from letting off an explosion.

“WELL, EXCUSE ME FOR BEING CURIOUS! YOU’VE NEVER BROUGHT A GIRL HOME BEFORE!” Mitsuki shot back, rolling her eyes.

Kanata watched the spectacle with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment until a calmer, quieter presence entered the room.

“Now, now, you two,” Bakugou Masaru said, stepping in with a nervous smile. “We have a guest. Let’s not scare her off, okay?��

Kanata stood up, bowing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Kanata, I’m in the same class as Katsuki. We’re partnered for a project, so that’s why I’m here.”

Mitsuki grinned at Kanata. “Ah, nice to meet you, dear! I’m Mitsuki, Katsuki’s mom. Has my son been causing trouble at school?”

Kanata glanced at Bakugou, who was glaring daggers at her. “Oh, he sure does. A lot actually.”

Bakugou groaned. “Oi—”

Ignoring him, Kanata continued, “Like, back when we were first year, he blew up a senior who was playing a villain during a training simulation. Poor guy wasn’t even ready for it.”

“He deserved it for going easy on me, damn him!” Bakugou barked, arms crossed defensively.

“And that’s not all” Kanata added “he also tried to blow up his first-year fan club.”

“Idiots wouldn’t leave me alone!”

“Oh, and there was the time when our class were playing that card game called U.A. Heroes Battle, he got pissed and blew up part of the dorm.” Kanata said with a laugh. “Aizawa-sensei had to ban us from playing card games because of him.”

Mitsuki burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “That sounds exactly like him! I knew he’d be a handful at school too!”

Bakugou groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU! YOU’RE JUST MAKING CRAP UP NOW!”

Kanata raised her hands innocently. “I swear I’m not. Ask anyone in our class.”

Masaru chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s good to know that you’re passionate, Katsuki.”

“Passionate my ass,” Mitsuki muttered before clapping her hands. “Alright, enough stalling. You two have a project to work on, don’t you? Go on and get to it.”

Kanata grinned as Bakugou stormed past her toward the stairs, muttering a string of curses. She followed him, still chuckling softly. “Your family’s great, by the way.”

“Shut it,” Bakugou snapped, stomping up the stairs.

...........

Bakugou’s room was surprisingly neat, with shelves lined with books, figurines, and a few All Might posters that Kanata couldn’t help but smile at.

“Focus on the articles about his rise as a hero,” Bakugou muttered, scrolling through a news archive on his laptop.

Kanata leaned over to read. “Wait, don’t skip that one! It talks about his time before becoming the Symbol of Peace.”

“Tch. I know what I’m doing, idiot,” Bakugou snapped, though he didn’t scroll past the article.

“You say that, but half the time you’re yelling instead of working,” Kanata said, jotting notes in her notebook.

“Because you keep distracting me with your dumb questions!”

“Oh, please,” Kanata said, rolling her eyes. “At least I’m trying to keep this organized. Remember earlier? You almost deleted our entire draft because you clicked the wrong button.”

“Shut up before I throw you out the window,” Bakugou growled, though a faint blush crept up his cheeks.

Before the argument could escalate further, Mitsuki popped her head into the room, holding a tray of snacks. “Here you go, kids! Don’t work yourselves too hard.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Bakugou,” Kanata said cheerfully, grabbing a cookie.

“Oi, don’t hog them!” Bakugou growled, snatching one for himself.

Mitsuki grinned. “You’re welcome, Kanata. Don’t let him boss you around too much.”

"I won't." Kanata replied, smiling. Mitsuki winked at her before leaving.

By the time the sun began dipping below the horizon, they called it a day. Kanata stretched and yawned as they descended to the living room, where she bid farewell to Bakugou’s parents.

“Thank you so much for having me! The snacks were delicious.”

Mitsuki waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. You’re welcome here anytime, dear.”

As Kanata slipped on her shoes, Mitsuki turned to her son. “Katsuki, walk her to the station. It’s getting dark, and it’s dangerous for a girl to walk alone.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch. If anyone dangerous shows up, they’ll run away from her instead. She’s more of a threat than than they are.”

Kanata gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

“Enough of your whining,” Mitsuki snapped. “Walk her. Now.”

“Fine,” Bakugou muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

As they walked toward the station, the sky darkened, and a chilly breeze picked up.

Kanata hugged herself, shivering slightly, she looks at Bakugou. “Aren’t you gonna offer me your jacket or something? Isn’t that what guys do in movies?”

Bakugou shot her a blank stare. “Why the hell would I do that? I’m not a walking cliché.”

Kanata pouted, faking disappointment. “Wow, no chivalry at all. Figures.”

Bakugou groaned, muttering something under his breath before yanking off his jacket. He tossed it at her face with more force than necessary. “Here. But you better give it back tomorrow. Squeaky clean.”

Kanata laughed, taking the jacket off her face and putting it on. “Thanks, Bakugou. You’re a real gentleman.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll take it back,” he warned, though his tone lacked any real threat.

When they reached the station, Kanata turned to him with a small smile. “Thanks for walking me, and for the jacket."

Bakugou's nodded, his usual scowl softening just slightly. “Tomorrow at my house. 8 a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

Kanata gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir. See you tomorrow!”

As she waved goodbye and headed for her train, Bakugou stood there for a moment, watching her leave.

He turned and began walking back home with a rare smile present on his face, muttering to himself. “Damn annoying.”

Next?

[roboticspacecase]

BillDip promt:first date

Ahh an excuse to write fluff, yes >:3c

The last thing Dipper had expected when he was asked out by a handsome, seemingly normal guy on a dating app, was to end up gripping the passenger seat of a fancy sports car while his date stared down an empty parking lot.

"Don't you dare," Dipper laughed, gripping the seat tighter. "You just took me out to that nice restaurant and fed me all that pasta, and I don't think either of us want to see it again. Especially since this time it’ll be all over your dashboard."

Bill's intense gaze shifted from the pavement to Dipper, a large, smarmy grin on his face. "You saw how good of a driver I was when I got us from your place to the restaurant in that funky traffic jam. We made it on time for our reservation, didn't hit anyone or anything, and I didn't get pulled over!"

Dipper rolled his eyes, still smiling. During the two weeks that he and Bill spoke over messages, the blond had mentioned that he enjoyed doing things that, “got the heart pumping”. But Dipper had always thought that had been some sort of sexual joke, not that he actually wanted to fling his car around at high speeds the second they drove by an empty lot.

“How about we do a few donuts, then we park and give my poor stomach a chance to catch up with the night?” He leaned back in his seat, preparing himself for the ride. “I think I can handle at least a few.” Their night had been going well enough that Dipper would feel bad if he shut down Bill’s fun too quickly, so he didn’t mind putting up with more of the blond’s shenanigans.

Bill lit up, his baby blue eyes twinkling from the dim glow of his headlights. “Sounds good to me, Pine Tree!” He revved the engine a couple of times before shifting the car into gear and slamming his foot down on the gas.

The tires screeched as they whirled around the lamp posts and empty parking spots. The two of them got thrown around a bit with each turn, though both could be heard laughing over the sound of the rubber on pavement.

Thankfully, Bill stuck to only doing a few and came to an abrupt stop once they had made their mark on the lot.

“Bet you’ve never had a date end with something that exciting, huh?”

Dipper looked at Bill, a large smile on his face. “I dunno, one guy took me to see a movie then took me to a grocery store ‘cause he needed something and didn’t want to go back out again after dropping me off. So I guess you could say this is a close second.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” The blond put his car into park, then adjusted the seat so that it was lying all the way back. “Then I’ll just have to one-up him and take a nap right here and now so that I don’t have to sleep after dropping you off.”

As soon as Bill closed his eyes and pretended to fake snore, Dipper burst out laughing and nudged the blond’s arm. “As much as I like your commitment to making this a super fun date, I think it’s about time I let my poor stomach lie down.”

“Your poor stomach, huh?” Bill got up and laid himself over Dipper, reaching for the latch to lay his seat down at well.

It popped into place too suddenly for Dipper to keep up with, he and Bill both falling backwards in an awkward position, Bill right on his stomach.

“Fuck, sorry,” he laughed. “Didn’t mean to come onto you that hard, but hey, you’re laying down now! Your poor stomach can rest easy in my car.”

“Not with you on top of it,” Dipper grunted. He gave the blond a playful shove, not actually trying to get him off. “Maybe if we carefully get back to my place before it gets too late, we can both… I dunno, maybe let our stomachs settle together on my couch with something playing on the TV?” Pink filled his cheeks because he knew that sounded a lot like he was inviting Bill over to get laid. And he sort of was. If one thing led to another, then who was he to deny the flow of the date?

Bill sprung up and had his seat back to normal in no time, his hand on the gearshift. “I’m about to be the carefullest- No wait, the most careful? Whatever, we’re about to be so fucking safe but fast, so buckle up.”

“I never unbuckled, so I’m ready,” Dipper snorted, adjusting his seat so that he could sit up. The car moved again, this time at a much better speed, and Dipper couldn’t help but smile over at his date. It was no trip to the grocery store, but he had a feeling he and Bill would have plenty of other outings that would more than make up for it.

[bleakmidwinter00]

An Unexpected Stop

Part 1

Emma Anderson adjusted the strap of her leather bag as she stepped out of the polished glass office on the 23rd floor, her camel trench coat draped effortlessly over her arm. The London skyline peeked through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but Emma was too focused to admire it. The meeting had been a success, but her energy levels were dwindling. Her phone buzzed in her hand, her assistant, Alex’s name lighting up the screen.

She swiped to answer, her tone sharp but not unkind. "Alex, talk to me."

"Hey, Emma, I just got off the phone with the Daniels account. They’re waffling again on the final budget approval. They’re asking for more time to review, but—"

"Alex," she interrupted smoothly, her heels clicking in a steady rhythm as she strode down the corridor, arriving in the elevator lobby. "Remind them this is the timeline they signed off on. We’ve already accommodated two extensions, and their indecision is going to compromise the campaign’s impact. Frame it that way and tell them we’re happy to jump on a call to address concerns, but this has to move forward. Understood?"

"Got it," Alex said, his tone more confident. "I’ll handle it."

"Good. Keep me posted, I’m just getting into an elevator. I’ll call you when I’m back at the hotel." Emma replied. A man stood by the call button, his lean frame casual yet commanding in a way that suggested he didn’t need to impress anyone. Emma barely gave him a glance as she stopped a few feet away, still focused on the call.

"Anything else, Alex?" she asked, her voice softening slightly now that the urgency had passed.

"That’s it for now. Thanks, Emma."

"All right. Speak soon.” she said, ending the call just as the elevator dinged. The man, whom she hadn’t acknowledged yet, turned slightly toward her. She noticed him for the first time—sharply dressed, with piercing blue eyes and a quiet intensity that although immediately registered as familiar, she couldn’t quite place him.

The doors slid open, and Emma stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. He followed without a word, leaving a respectable amount of space between them. She tucked her phone into her bag and leaned back against the mirrored wall, closing her eyes briefly.

“Long day?” The soft Irish lilt caught her off guard.

She glanced at him. His expression was curious, almost amused. “You could say that.” she replied, offering a polite but noncommittal smile before closing her eyes again. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but something about his presence was oddly calming.

The elevator hummed as it began its descent. It had only dropped a few floors when it suddenly jolted, a metallic groan reverberating through the small space before the lift came to an abrupt stop. Emma opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling, then at the man, who had instinctively braced himself against the rail.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” she muttered under her breath. She wasn’t angry, just resigned. Suddenly, the intercom crackled to life and a man’s voice sounded.

“Apologies, folks,” a voice from security said. “The elevators temporarily stuck. We’re working on it. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

“Of course it shouldn’t,” Emma murmured, half to herself. She caught the man’s faint smile in the reflection of the mirrored wall.

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” he said after a beat.

“Getting angry won’t fix it.” she replied dryly. “I’ve been in worse elevators. At least this one has air conditioning.” She shifted her weight, settling back into a comfortable stance. He chuckled softly, a sound she found unexpectedly pleasant.

Minutes ticked by, and the promised resolution didn’t come. The intercom buzzed again. “Update for you - engineers delayed. It’ll be about an hour I’m afraid.”

Emma exhaled, shaking her head. “Brilliant.” She pulled her phone out again, noting the lack of service. “Well, there goes my bath and wine,” she muttered.

He looked at her with a mix of amusement and admiration. “Bath and wine?”

“It’s been a long day,” she said simply. “Some people meditate. I prefer Sauvignon Blanc and a soak.”

He smiled. “Fair enough.”

They fell into an easy silence and for the first time all day, Emma let herself relax, feeling the tension of her relentless schedule ease just slightly. And though she wasn’t quite sure who this man was, she found his quiet presence oddly reassuring.

Cillian studied her quietly. He’d caught enough of her earlier conversation on the phone to recognise the mix of composure and resolve in her voice, a quality he found... refreshing. He didn’t say anything, though, content to let the silence settle. He took the opportunity to observe her. She was striking - not just in appearance, but in the way she carried herself, all sharp edges softened by a natural elegance. He thought briefly of the clipped, professional way she’d dealt with her call. Fierce but fair, he’d noted, and effective.

The minutes ticked by, silent apart from the occasional shuffle of feet. Emma checked her watch, her patience intact but tested.

Cillian stood across from her, his posture easy but his gaze sharp. He had said little since their initial polite conversation, but there was a quiet attentiveness about him that made Emma acutely aware of his presence.

She finally broke the silence, though her tone was more conversational than frustrated. “Do you think they’re actually working on this, or just stalling for time?”

Cillian looked at her, his lips curving faintly. “I suppose that depends on how much faith you have in building management.”

Emma allowed a dry laugh, tilting her head. “Not much, apparently.”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching again, though he still seemed content to let her lead the interaction. She studied him briefly, curious but cautious. His quiet demeanour intrigued her, even as she tried not to overthink it. She leaned back against the wall, running a hand through her chestnut waves. “Well,” she said, more to herself, “this is turning into a productive afternoon.”

Cillian gave her a sidelong glance, his faint smirk returning. “Stuck in a box with a stranger. Not the kind of efficiency you were hoping for, I imagine.”

Emma shifted her weight again, finally letting out a soft sigh. The silence stretched before she spoke, her tone still composed but edged with faint frustration. “Maybe the universe decided I needed a break.”

Cillian tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. “Do you?”

“Need a break?” she asked, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Probably. Though, if I’m being honest, I’d prefer it wasn’t like this.” She gestured loosely around the small, metal space.

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Not quite the ideal setting.”

“No,” she admitted, brushing a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. She hesitated, then said, “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Cillian,” he replied simply.

Her eyes flicked toward him, narrowing slightly as if something about the name registered, but she let it go. Instead, she tilted her head toward him.

“Do you live here?” she asked eventually, not out of idle curiosity but as a polite attempt to fill the silence.

“Nearby,” he replied, his answer as reserved as his demeanour. “You?”

“New York,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Though I seem to be spending more time on planes than in the office lately.”

“Busy life,” he observed.

She gave a small shrug. “It has its moments.”

Cillian nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to her shoes. “You wear those on planes too?”

That earned him a faint laugh, soft and unexpected. “Not if I can help it,” she admitted. “Though I’ve had worse days in heels than this.”

Cillian glanced at her, noticing the subtle wince when she shifted her weight. “You should sit,” he offered.

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the ache in her arches beginning to make itself known. She could endure the discomfort for meetings and presentations, but standing idle in a stuck elevator with no clear end in sight was another matter entirely.

“What is it you do?” He suddenly asked her.

She glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. “Marketing,” she said simply. “I convince people they want things they didn’t know they needed.”

“That explains the call earlier,” he said, nodding toward her phone. “You handled it well. Clear, decisive.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“I was in the vicinity,” he replied, a teasing lilt in his tone.

She let out a short laugh. “Fair enough. What about you? Do you spend your days loitering in elevator lobbies?”

He smirked, but there was something reserved about him, as though he wasn’t used to talking about himself. “I act. Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?” she echoed, intrigued by his vague answer.       

“Sometimes more than that,” he added with a slight shrug. “I just finished a long project.”

“Ah,” she said, tilting her head as though trying to place him. “Anything I might have seen? Although I don’t get as much time for movies and T.V. as I’d like.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone light. He wasn’t offering any more information, and she wasn’t sure she cared enough to pry. Not yet.

The ache in her feet grew unbearable, and she finally sighed, throwing decorum to the wind. “All right, this is ridiculous,” she muttered, sinking to the floor with a soft thud. She leaned her back against the wall, straightened her legs, and reached down to slip off her heels. The relief was instant.

He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “Giving up?”

“Call it self-preservation,” she replied, flexing her toes. The cool metal floor was a welcome balm. “These things aren’t meant for endurance.”

He hesitated a moment before following her lead, sliding down to sit on the opposite wall. “Fair point.”

Emma closed her eyes briefly, letting the quiet hum of the elevator settle over them. She felt herself start to relax, which was unusual for her. Normally, even moments of stillness were consumed by thoughts of what was next: the next meeting, the next pitch, the next flight. But something about this man’s quiet presence allowed her to just be.

He watched her in the silence, taking her in fully now that her guard seemed lowered. Her dark chestnut hair framed her face in soft waves, a few strands brushing her collarbone. The delicate lace of her bra peeked subtly through her sheer blouse, a detail that hadn’t escaped him earlier. Her nails were perfectly manicured, a glossy neutral shade that spoke of polish and professionalism.

Then his gaze drifted down to her feet. Bare against the cool floor, her toes were painted in a shade that was nearly the same as her fingernails, though the polish was slightly chipped. It was the smallest imperfection; one he found oddly endearing. For all her poise and precision, it made her seem human in a way that intrigued him.

“You don’t seem too rattled by this,” he said after a moment.

Emma opened one eye, glancing at him. “What’s the point? It’s not like getting angry will make the elevator move. Besides…” She leaned her head back against the wall. “I’ve had worse days.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

She gave a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s just say I’ve learned to pick my battles.”

He nodded, understanding that she wasn’t going to elaborate. For a moment, the two of them sat in companionable silence, the kind that felt surprisingly natural for strangers.

As the minutes stretched on, Cillian found himself unexpectedly drawn into more conversation with her. She was easy to talk to, her sharp edges from the earlier phone call now softened by humour and an easy confidence. She sat across from him, legs stretched out, completely at ease despite the inconvenience of their situation.

“So,” she said, leaning back against the wall. “What’s your deal? When you’re not loitering in elevators or… occasionally acting, that is.”

He smirked, adjusting his position on the floor. “My deal? Bit vague.”

She shrugged, her blouse shifting slightly to reveal another hint of lace. “Hobbies. Interests. Do you… I don’t know, collect stamps? Build model trains? Knit sweaters for stray dogs?”

He laughed, a low, genuine sound. “Afraid I’m not that exciting. I read a lot. I cook when I can. I suppose I’m a bit boring.”

“Cooking isn’t boring,” she said, her brow lifting. “What’s your specialty?”

“Depends,” he replied. “Though I make a mean roast chicken.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “A classic. Bonus points if you make the gravy from scratch.”

“Always,” he said, and she gave an approving nod.

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious now. “What do you do when you’re not convincing people to buy things they don’t need?”

She smiled, glancing down at her bare toes. “I travel. A lot for work, but I squeeze in personal trips when I can. Food’s a big motivator for that. I’ll plan a trip just to try a restaurant I’ve heard about.”

He found himself leaning forward slightly, captivated by the way she talked about it, her enthusiasm lighting up her face. “Anywhere recent?”

“Tokyo,” she said, her eyes brightening. “I spent three days eating my way through the city. The sushi, the ramen, even the convenience store snacks—it was all incredible.”

He smiled, the conversation flowing easily now. They moved on to other topics: books they’d read, movies they loved, the best coffee shops in the cities they’d visited. He was surprised at how effortlessly she seemed to navigate each topic, her insights sharp but never pretentious. She was, he realised, refreshingly real.

And then there were the moments when she’d pause, tilt her head, or laugh softly at something he said. He found himself studying her more closely. There was a lightness in her laugh, a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. Her polished exterior—perfectly styled hair, tailored clothes—was still there, but in the casual ease of their conversation, she felt… different. More approachable.

She told him about her love for jazz bars in New York, how she’d wander into one on a random weeknight just to sit and listen. He countered with stories of Dublin pubs, where the music was rougher around the edges but no less moving. They argued - good-naturedly - over the best pasta dish, with her firmly in the carbonara camp while he stood by bolognese.

“I’ll give you this,” she said, smirking. “You have good taste for a guy who calls himself boring.”

“Careful,” he replied with a mock-serious tone. “I might start to believe I’m not.”

Her laugh echoed softly in the small space, and he felt something shift. It wasn’t just her humour or the way she spoke with such conviction about everything from wine pairings to 19th-century novels. It was the way she occupied the space—completely herself, unapologetically confident yet grounded.

He couldn’t help but notice the little details: the slight flush of her cheeks as she talked about her favourite jazz musician, the way her fingers occasionally brushed her necklace as she spoke, or how her polish-perfect nails didn’t quite match the chipped polish on her toes. It was such a small thing, but it endeared her to him. She wasn’t untouchable, as she might seem at first glance. She was real, and that was far more interesting.

He leaned back against the wall, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than it should. The elevator was still stuck, but for the first time, he wasn’t in a rush to leave.

“So,” he said after a beat of silence, “how long are you in town for?”

“Three more days,” she replied, brushing a stray wave of hair from her face. “I fly back to New York on Friday.”

“All work?” he guessed, though he already suspected the answer.

“Always,” she said with a small, resigned smile. “This city’s been my second home for the past year. Every time I think I’m done here, another project pops up.”

“You sound thrilled about that,” he said, his tone teasing.

She smirked, her eyes meeting his. “Don’t get me wrong, I love London. It’s just… exhausting. All the rushing around, the meetings, the time zone difference.” She sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing against the wall. “I barely have time to actually enjoy the city.”

“What would you do if you did have time?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She paused, considering the question. “I’d probably wander. No schedule, no agenda. Just walk around, explore, find a quiet café or a little bookshop. Maybe hit a market and try whatever street food catches my eye.”

“That sounds… nice,” he said, meaning it.

“It does, doesn’t it?” she said with a wistful smile. “But instead, I’ll probably be in meetings until the minute I have to leave for the airport.”

“Tragic,” he said, shaking his head. “You should at least make time for one proper meal before you go. Have you tried any good restaurants this trip?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, crossing her legs and adjusting the hem of her trousers. “But I’ve got a running list of places I want to try. It just depends on whether I can escape the work dinners. You sound as though you know the city well.”

Cillian shifted slightly against the wall, his eyes drifting away from her for a moment as her words brought him back to the reality of his own thoughts. He had been in London for a couple of years now, long enough to get used to the city’s pulse—the frenetic energy, the constant hum of life that never seemed to stop. He’d built a rhythm here, found places that felt familiar, even found a sense of comfort in the noise.

But still, there were moments, like this one, when he found himself longing for something quieter, something simpler.

“I’ve been here a couple of years now,” he said, almost to himself. “London’s grown on me, but there are days when I miss home.”

She tilted her head, picking up on the change in his tone. “Where’s home?”

“Cork.” he said, his voice softening just slightly. “It’s where I grew up. It’s hard to shake that feeling of being tethered to it, you know?”

She nodded, her gaze soft and understanding. “I get that. New York is home for me, but sometimes... it feels like I’m constantly moving, running after the next thing.”

The intercom crackled to life, breaking the quiet bubble, they’d created.

“Folks, good news,” the engineer’s voice came through, slightly muffled. “We’ve got everything under control now. Should have you moving in just a few minutes.”

Emma sighed, glancing at her bare feet and the heels she’d left discarded on the floor. “Finally,” she muttered, though her tone wasn’t annoyed. If anything, she seemed reluctant to leave the strange stillness of the moment.

She slipped her shoes back on, wincing slightly as the ache in her feet returned. Straightening her coat, she gave him a small, polite smile, as though they were strangers again instead of two people who’d just shared an oddly intimate hour or so together.

Cillian stood and instinctively extended a hand to help her up. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. Her hand was warm and firm, and as she rose, her eyes met his. There was a flicker of something between them, a quiet spark that caught them both off guard.

“Thanks,” she said softly, pulling her hand back a little too quickly, as if the contact had been more electric than she’d anticipated.

The elevator jolted suddenly as it began to hum to life, and Emma stumbled slightly. Without thinking, Cillian reached out, steadying her with a light hand on her arm. The movement brought them closer, close enough for him to catch the faint scent of her perfume - something floral and fresh, with just a hint of spice. At the same time, she caught the warm, woody notes of his aftershave, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged.

“Sorry,” she murmured, pulling back and smoothing her coat.

“No problem,” he said quietly, his voice steady, though his heart was racing slightly.

The elevator moved smoothly now, the floor numbers lighting up as they descended. Emma adjusted her bag on her shoulder, her expression composed again, as though she hadn’t just been standing close enough to feel his breath on her skin.

When the doors opened, the bright light of the lobby spilled into the elevator. Emma stepped out first, glancing back briefly. “Well, Cillian…” she said, her voice brisk, as though tying a neat bow on the interaction, “thanks for the company. Good luck with…everything.”

Cillian hesitated for a split second, watching her start to walk away. He could let her go—he probably should let her go. But something about her stuck with him. Her sharpness, her humour, the way she’d settled into the moment without pretence.

Before he could overthink it, he called after her. “Wait.”

She paused, turning back, a faintly curious look on her face.

“I’m starving after all that waiting,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets casually. “I missed lunch today. Could go for an early dinner.” He met her eyes, his tone light but his gaze steady. “If you fancy it.”

Emma blinked, clearly taken aback. “Dinner?” she repeated, a slight laugh in her voice. “Why?”

He smiled, tilting his head slightly. “I figure, if I’ve got to eat, I might as well do it with someone interesting.”

Her brow arched, and he could see her turning the offer over in her mind. She crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful, though her tone held a hint of scepticism. “You’re not just entertaining me out of obligation, are you?”

“Not at all,” he said, his voice calm and even. “You’re free to say no, of course. But if you’re still deciding where to eat in London, I’ve know a great little Italian place around the corner.”

Emma hesitated, the walls she kept so neatly in place visibly wavering. She gave him a small smile, something warm in her expression now, a crack in her armour. “Alright.” she said. “But if this place turns out to be terrible, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Deal,” he said, his smile widening.

As they walked toward the exit, side by side, Cillian couldn’t help but feel that maybe the day’s delay had been worth it after all.

[darlink-xoxo]

part two for this please? where they see each other's playlists and get jealous bc they think it's for other people 😭❤️

OUR FAVORITE SONG PT. 2!·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

in which, a simple request for the aux cord leads to some unexpected jealousy

and maybe a long awaited (sloppy) confession too..

GIF isnt mine

─ͥ─ͦ─ͮ─ͤ➼♥″

oh my

forgive me if i didn't do the request right 😓

i haven't done this before (pt 1 is right here)

Warnings: Fluff, Aged up!Enough to have a drivers license, Tiny Misunderstanding, Kinda a rushed ending, Possible ooc bakugou, Light Swearing, Puppy love 🫶.. and spelling mistakes

❥ · ﾟ₊ in you're opinion, you'd say you had good music taste. a little bit of everything, not really sticking to one genre. but you've been on a kick recently, it's been difficult to listen to your songs if they weren't on a certain playlist. yeah, that's right, it slightly bothered you to listen to any song outside of your 'thinking about him <3' playlist. why? you had absolutely zero clue.

maybe it's because you've listened to that playlist on repeat for so long, that it's just abnormal at this point to listen to anything else..

yeah.. maybe that's it. but it isn't your fault. ever since that staredown with bakugou, he was probably the only reoccurring thought in your mind, one which you happily welcomed. not without the secondhand embarrassment of course. i mean, it was probably pretty awkward for him to catch you staring at him in silence.. luckily he never brought it up, after all, how were you going to explain how giddy you were feeling to someone who was probably hearing crickets??

well anyways, for some god forsaken reason, you and the bakusquad had planned an outing earlier today after school. bakugou demanded that he'd be the one to drive, declaring that he'd rather have his vocal cords ripped out than let any of you guys drive. which was reasonable enough.

that just doesn't explain how he managed to pick you up first, didn't you live the farthest away from him??

"will you get in the car already? i'll leave your ass behind if you're still there in the next five fucking seconds."

you knew he wasn't joking about leaving you behind, and you didn't feel like driving yourself. hopping into the passenger seat, you slipped on your seatbelt and shifted to get comfortable. you heard him grunt a small 'finally' before revving up his engine and speeding off to the next house.

once everyone was picked up, the six of you were headed to the arcade. the car was filled with endless chatter from ashido and kaminari, with kirishima joining in and sero simply listening to the conversation. somehow the topic had switched to who's playlist should be played as background noise.

"i'm telling you guys, i should have the aux cord. i've got the best taste here!" kaminari held up his phone, the screen showing off one of his multiple playlists.

sero peeked at the phone screen before snorting and settling back in his chair, "kaminari, just because your songs are all famous tiktok audios, that doesn't make them good."

"thank you sero, clearly we should play my songs. mine aren't limited to tiktok!" ashido childishly stuck her tongue out at a pouting kaminari.

kirishima gave a once over at mina's phone screen, before deadpanning, "y'know ashido, you literally only have like, four main artists on there. i dont think any of us wanna listen to the same songs on repeat"

gasping in a mock offense, she retorted, "maybe you don't, but i'll listen to rihanna and twice till the day i die!"

already crossing out sero, who didn't have many song options, and kirishima, who pretty much only had songs for a workout, ashido whined in frustration. she turned to you and practically demanded your phone. you barely had the chance to unlock it before she grabbed it from you.

ashido immediately dived into your lists of songs, "okay, okay, taste.." she muttered with a satisfied nod before she came to an abrupt pause. you saw her eyes zoom in on something in particular, and a devilish grin appearing on her face.

"hehe, y/n? babe? bestie? what is this playlist?"

"what playlist?"

she shoved your phone in your face, "this one!! what is this 'thinking about him' playlist?!? WITH A HEART TOO AWWWW" your eyes widened as you instantly tried to take your phone back, "ashido give it back!!" you narrowly skimmed the device when she scooted farther away from you.

the coral colored female giggled loudly as she scrolled through the playlist, squealing like a middle schooler with a crush when she saw all the love songs. you could only groan and slump into your seat, hoping the cushion could swallow you whole.

while sero and kirishima were cackling loudly at your demise, kaminari was actually making an attempt to help get back your phone, "ashido, it isn't nice to gatekeep someone else's phone- WAIT IS THAT 'DARARI'?!? DUDE, YOU'RE WHIPPED!!"

now both ashido and kaminari were hogging your phone. you couldn't bring yourself to glance at the spiky haired blonde to your side, the sheer humiliation would be too much..

he was quiet. unusual drop dead silence came from the driver's seat. 𝘺𝘰𝘶.. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰..? 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 '𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮'.. 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴 '𝘩𝘪𝘮'??!

you had 'something about you' by eyedress, 'cloud 9' by beach bunny, 'darari' by treasure, and even 'i'm yours' by isabel larosa.. you definitely liked this guy.. tch..

"turn that shit off, you all have shit taste," he lowly demanded with a slight growl to his tone.

without much care, he tossed his own phone behind him towards the pink haired female. his eyes focused on the road, yet his thoughts kept him occupied. his own mind racing at who this guy you thought about was, did you like someone else..? was it really only him who felt sparks during your staredown a while back? did you feel nothing at all?

his grip on the steering wheel tightened as his thoughts got the best of him, he barely registered the annoyingly loud gasp ashido let out.

"oh. my. GOSH AAAAAA!!! BAKU HAS A LOVE PLAYLIST TOO OHMYGOODNESS!!!!"

.

..

𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠..

"NO WAYYYYYY!! he has 'juliet' by cavetown, HE HAS 'JULIET' BY CAVETOWN GUYS!!!" kaminari practically fought ashido for the phone, eagerly scrolling through the songs in the playlist.

kirishima was able to get a peek at the playlist when kaminari tried holding the phone out of ashido's reach, "you named it 'only them' bro? i gotta say, that's pretty manly. you too y/n!"

sero sat frozen in his seat, eyes blown wide with a hand covering his mouth. he had just connected the dots, and didn't wanna say anything in case it made you two uncomfortable. but lord was he trying not to.

ashido managed to yank back bakugou's phone from kaminari, her eyes scanning each and every song, "'babooshka' by kate bush is a little unexpected, 'despair' by leo is a great choice... still in denial i see, any song by chase atlantic was obvious.." she let out a huge dramatic gasp, to the point she started coughing.

kaminari gently rubbed her back and kirishima handed her water. sero subtly backed away, as to not get infected, quietly asking if she swallowed a bug.

after what like, three minutes? ashido muttered a small 'excuse me' before shoving bakugou's phone in an oddly silent y/n's face, "look y/n! this guy has 'overdose' by natori!! HOW ADORABLE IS THAT?!?!"

he side eyed the interaction, eyes slightly narrowing when y/n only gave it a once over before turning away, choosing to let out a short hum of affirmation.

no matter how hard he tried to focus on the road, his eyes kept drifting towards you. you seemed strangely downcast. were you alright? he couldn't bring himself to ask, he didn't trust his voice to be quiet enough to speak softly with you. not when his anger was spiking up because of a certain raccoon eyes and dunce face.

"CAN YOU JUST PICK A FUCKING SONG AND PLAY IT ALREADY??!" he shouted at the two, as a playlist still hasn't been chosen.

ashido giggled, staring at the rearview mirror with a smug grin, pressing play on his love playlist. bakugou could only grunt with a deepened scowl, choosing to be silent so he could engage himself in steering. he didn't feel like getting his ear talked off by the old hag if he were to get a speeding ticket.

sero felt sweat drip down his forehead as 'moment' by vierre cloud flowed loud and clear through his ears. sure it was meant to be background noise, but with the connection already assembled in his mind, his hearing seemed to focus on the radio. he cleared his throat and faced kirishima, no longer wanting to be the only one who knew, and as kirishima wasn't occupied by a phone that wasn't his, he was the best choice.

kirishima looked over when he noticed sero giving him a wide eyed stare, subtly asking if he was alright. the red head could only blink in confusion as sero pointed at bakugou, then y/n, then at bakugou's phone in ashido's hand. he grinned sheepishly when sero stared at him with a 'how tf do you not get it?!?' sorta glare.

sighing and slumping in his seat, sero pulled out his phone and instead texted his thoughts to kirishima instead. making sure to give a pointed look when the red head rushed to check his message. sero watched the shark toothed male's expressions contort from confusion to interest and finally to an 'OH MY GOSH YOU ARE SO RIGHT' kinda look.

sero skimmed his phone when he saw kirishima furiously typing away. sero uread the text that went, 'how did they not figure it out yet??' sero gave kirishima a sharp look. the simple message of 'says the one who needed a dang message to figure it out,' had the red head putting his phone down and instead choosing to take a nap.

when the six of you finally managed to get to the arcade in one piece, you all agreed to go on your own for about an hour before meeting back up to play games that needed more than one person.

you wandered around aimlessly, everything seemed to have a line and you were also deliberately avoiding a certain someone. you settled down at a simple claw machine, just as you thought you were in the clear, a voice rang from behind you.

"oi, if you're just gonna stare at the prizes ya mind moving? i wanna see how many i can win." a sharp demand came from behind, leading you to turn around as you got out of the way.

low and behold, it was the damn person you were trying to avoid..

he stepped forward, slipping two tokens into the slot before beginning to play. silence was all that came out of you two. and it was hella awkward. more awkward than being left alone in an elevator with a stranger.

you were about to speak out, when bakugou's boastful voice cut you off, "HA! think that bastard of yours can do better?" he turned to you with a smug grin, it almost made your heart beat if it weren't for the six prizes he managed to get in the five minutes he'd been playing laid out behind him.

how the hell did he get those prizes so fast?? in a claw machine no less??? and wait, did he say bastard? whomst tf-

"what bastard are you talking about?" you squinted at him with utter shock in your eyes.

"that guy you think of? think he can do any better than this?" he just won two more prizes..

this the guy you had a crush on, did you have a thing for jealous and oblivious men? did he just gloss over the probability that this 'guy you think of' was him in the first place??

"what does it matter? don't you have your own person you think of?" yeah you haven't forgotten, i mean he had 'sofia' by clairo on his playlist. this guy for sure was serious about his feelings. and it stung, already having repeated it to yourself about a thousand times.

the male before you kept silent, seemingly thinking before he abruptly stood up, thrusting the prizes he won into your hands, "they aren't just someone i think about," he glared at the floor beside you with his voice suddenly going quiet, "they're someone i'd do anything for, even if it means winning every damn game in this fucking arcade to prove it." he fiercely stared into your eyes as if he just made some sort of declaration to you.

it took you a second to process what he said, and when you finally got it he was already trudging away. speeding after him, you grabbed him by his arm, "what if, what if you never had competition to begin with..?" goodness your brain was for sure fried..

he scowled at you, "dont even dare think about fucking lying to me just because i told you the truth," gosh you hated and loved his stubbornness.

"dont you get it bakugou? you're the one i made the playlist for, did arctic monkeys not give you any clues??"

bakugou tensed, yet he didn't seem to look at you, opting to look down instead, "you dropped them," his quiet doting tone made you squint in confusion, he better not be ignoring your confession.. deciding to listen, you glanced underneath you, true to his word, they all lay fallen on the floor. you let out a silent sigh as you knelt down to pick up all the stuff he won. the least he could say was a 'no', now he got you doing labor.

just as you were about to get up and kinda run away and maybe bury yourself in the nearest hole, he knelt beside you, and kissed you. although more of a peck, he made sure it was clear how he felt about you. it was soft and gentle, it caught you off guard. you stared at him with wide eyes, and he stared back. suddenly remembering the staredown you both had, yet this was different. first of all, he was up in front of you, right next to your face, and HE HAD JUST KISSED YOU??!?

making sure not to overstep any of your possible boundaries, he lightly traced his fingertips up your arm to get your focus back on him. with his other hand, he cupped your cheek, softly chuckling when he felt your face heat up over his palm. then, he leaned in once more,

"you give shitty clues"

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

Apparently I'm rolling and my plan works just fine. I live, and Luddick decided to get back to me! He wants to call me (which I don't really like) and claims it is safer than communicating via mail.

Transcript of the first and second page: Luddick has high hopes considering connection on a train, and in case this works I wil provide him with information on Vasiley's murder and Eckhardt. Maybe I don't have to tell him all. Here's my list of questions so I don't talk gibberish:

What do you know about Eckhardt and his past doings?

Why do you think he is involved in Vasiley's death?

Are you aware of a person named "Heissturm"?

Do you know about the murder spree that had been going on in Paris?

Was Vasiley involved with artifacts called the Obscura Paintings?

Speaking of the devil, he wanted to speak to me within an hour. I did my best to be all alone and ended up in the restroom...anyway. He answered, I wrote everything down on two seperate pieces of paper to be more secretive and improvise professionality. So, here are his answers:

He was a few photos of Eckhardt and calls these "dossiers". Didn't want to show me. Apparently the alchemist is staying over at the Strahov whatever the fuck that is, and has been going in and out with another dude doing some kind of secret work.

He denied that Eckhardt is involved in Vasiley's murder, but I know better. He claimed he doesn't want to dig his head that deep into this and Vasiley had more ties with the Prague mafia.

There is no person he knows of with such name. He only has something on Eckhardt, Vasiley, and Grant Muller, again, whoever the fuck that is. It's supposedly a botanist and he said he had seen plants and botanical materials being carried into the Strahov.

Transcript of the third and fourth page: Continueing the answers Luddick gave me:

4. Here he had a good laugh, the Paris killings have been in every newspapers, of course he as a journalist would know. Some coworkers of his have been updating him, and some link the abrupt stopping of the killings to the murder of Vasiley who had ties to Paris. 5. He wasn't too sure of that. A woman already contacted him and wanted information -which he claims to have given her- and if I want it, it'll cost me.

So: I assume the woman is Lara Croft. I'm close to her footsteps now. Also, this chat opened way more questions than I'd like to admit. First, I want to get these dossiers Luddick mentioned. Then, I need to find out anything about Grant Muller and the Strahov. Also, the murder scene of Vasiley has been closed off by the police, but I could try to access it, no? I need an office, it's hard to keep track of everything. I need more on the Sanglyph, on the Lux Veritatis, on Muller, the Strahov, the dossiers.

While struggling with this I did some more research and came across a quote, this one: "Through the Golden Lion the Nephilim will enslave the sons of men and inherit the Earth". The Periapt Shards have a handle that is shaped like a lion, and I remember Fayolah's attached picture of a lion with three knives around it. Does this mean the shards are a weapon to enslave the world around Eckhardt? Can he use them? As far as I know, or think to know, Eckhardt is within this pact of Nephilim so the shards could be initially made by him (or the Nephili). What if they got stolen by the LV and used against him? Like in the drawing?

Transcript of the fifth page: Our train is stuck again. It's snowing, but at least we're approaching the Czech Republic. I found a graph on- a lot. It took me some time to fully read it. So, there were initially five Images of Blood, made by Eckhardt, which I know; which then got painted over and turned into the Obscura Paintings. Each othe them has a metal part within, and these can be combined to access the Sanglyph, this mystical weapon(?) Eckhardt has created.

Transcript of the sixth page: This is my scheme of the whole thing. The Sanglyph came first; then was split for whatever reason; then the apintings got commissioned, then painted over; then each painting got a peace and was hidden away, as I know Vasiley had found one of them on accident on a monastery. So if you bring all five parts together, it will please the Nephilim and make Eckhardt immortal? Is that how it works? I know that the mutilated bodies could be used for metals found within us, and the blood ties it to the Sanglyph itself, but this all sounds too...fantastic. Almost as if I'm tripping and sharing my bad trip with the whole world.

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page:

You won't believe what I found on Grant Muller. Or Müller, not sure. So I found a photo, it's a scan and bad quality but apparently depicting him. It was stored online on a journalist's cloud who found Muller so hilarious he wanted to spread his looks, I guess. I can revearse image-search him now and maybe come up with something better. His name sounds German, and with that I found even more. I can't quite grasp it and I'm almost in Prague, in an hour if everything goes smoothly. So, I'll print out his published srticles on mutagens. Mutagens can mutate DNA and damage it, like radiation, or simply change your eye color. But he's working on plants so he could be working on herbal medicine or something? I'm not sure what he's got to do with Eckhardt, but all I know of him so far is

he is 62 years old and born in Tirol, DE

his university expelled him for some reason and he never finished his degree

his works are heavily debated by biologists for being non-scientific

his current work place: the Strahov, Prague, CZ, who would have thought

he often references the Bible(???)

So he either is a Christian weirdo who wants to revive alchemy by plant matters or he actually works on something, some science, only Eckhardt appreciates. Perhaps he has a website? I will also try to find Vasiley's gallery. And, since I still have some time, I hope my dear "friend" “PassionforReseachion” will upload new data. I might be able to use that.

[billerak]

RWTC 2

Time for the sequel! My volume 1 post did great, a grandiose 3 notes. I can already smell the internet fame. Clearly, the fans want what I have to offer (That being: incredibly random thoughts and my always correct opinions), and I am here to give it to them.

Anyways when we last left off: We'd just stopped a grand robbery of dust in the docks! Well, Penny did most of the work, but it's the thought that counts. The ending was kind of abrupt! What wonders will V2 have to offer? How much of a mess will it make of things? I wonder!

Ep 1: We start the volume and the first thing Mercury does is… flirt? The way the line is read is so fucking awkward tho, lmao. I know the tukson scene was meant to be tense and menacing but, and I know I said I wouldn't do this much, but it's important here: The voice acting doesn't really sell the scene. It's not laughably awful or anything, it's just not very strong. Wow, Blake and Yang actually get an interaction where Blake actively replies to her! How wonderful. Thank you Ruby, that IS the current circumstances in which you find yourselves! The audience appreciates you for the explanation. Wow Neptune look at you I'm sure you'll be a super important character moving forward, relevant, always in the depths of the plot. No comments about the food fight. 10/10. Still my favourite secene from RWBY. Now Glynda I understand your frustration but everyone else ran away, these eight stuck to the food fight and wrecked each other's shit, I'd be impressed if I was the teacher of a combat school. I love Roman. He's a little shit. I'd bash his head in if I could, but that's why I love him. He's underutilized but his VA is clearly having a lot of fun and it seeps into the character. Do you think cinder uses her powers to make her eyes glow for effect at all times or only when she's tryning to be menacing?

On the Bees: Wow look an interaction! Clearly this has convinced me the writers had planned for it all along.

Ep 2: I do like Ironwood's always had that subtle tension to him. He's a man with good intentions but too much goddamn power for his own good. Leaving aside te absolute stupidity of a 'semblance' they gave him which was of course never mentioned in the show because it makes no goddamn sense. This is a general complaint I have, not only with RWBY but with pretty much all shows I've ever watched: JUST USE REAL BOARD GAMES. PLEASE. CALL THEM SOMETHING ELSE BUT MAKE THEM THINGS THAT ALREADY FUCKING EXIST. The only person I've ever seen who makes 'fake board/card games' funny is ProZD and dude literally makes a living out of playing and reviewing those. Anyways that's a me thing, otherwise it's a fine scene. Better than fine, really, because WHITE ROSE BABEEE THAT'S 2 EPISODES IN A ROW WHERE THEY'VE HELD EACH OTHER LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO "But Neptun-" Nepwho? Ah, blue haired guy. Right. He exists. Aight I'll just say my piece here because I don't wanna be saying the same through the whole volume: The whole Weiss/Neptune thing is just horribly heterosexual people writting terrible heterosexuality. Neptune's entire personality is being heterosexual. Literally. If a gay character acted the same as him, he'd be criticized for having 'gay' be his personality, or he'd be considered a token gay, or smth. Seen it a million times. Comes out of nowhere, any time Weiss does or say anything involving Neptune I wanna unalive myself, the two have the chemistry of water, and I consider this fanbase got off lucky that Neptune ended up being only a plot device to get Jaune to move along his own arc. So yeah any time anything happens with Neptune, unless I state otherwise, assume I'm vomiting loudly. … Honestly Blake and Weiss are kinda shippable here. 'Nooo blake why won't you talk to me- I mean us you promised' gay ass. Anyways while I understand Ruby and Yang going with the stupid plan and Blake has personal reasons for it… It does feel a bit OOC for Weiss to agree because, well, she's fucking right. These four are just students and they only managed to deal with Roman and the White Fang last time because Penny came in clutch. They're fucked if they do this alone. How… old is cinder? I'd say she couldn't pass herself for a student due to credentials but we know salem has Lionhart by the balls so… ???

On the Bees: Weiss and Blake had a nice moment.

Ep 3: You know, I never understood what Jaune saw in Weiss. Like, ok, she's probably cute at first sight. But she's fucking insufferable otherwise. Her team can deal with her but I'd fucking despise her v1-3 self if I went to the same school as her. I prefer the other outfits tbh. Where… Where was Sun hanging from? He was like, some ways away from the window, but there was nothing there to hang to. I guess his semblance could help but would he really- Yeah he would. Ruby here know's what's up and she wants none of it. NONE. It may look like Ruby is making fun of Weiss, but she doesn't understand that's just flirting. But her heart pulls her two ways, OH NO. By the end of this story, she must choose- Well, no, not really, since one of the options is literally twice dead. (yes I ship Nuts n' Dolts too, sue me) Weird that Weiss didn't ask to see Winter when the woman said she was around, given that later it seems like she'd give an arm and a leg to speak to her. Ok, the reveal that Penny is a robot rings a bit… hollow, since, uh, we already knew that. Her back literally opens into blades, the weird thing really is Ruby not knowing.

On the Bees: Nuts.

Ep 4: OOOOH that's why it's called Nuts n Dolts, innit. Normally I'd say the Ruby/Penny friendship feels forced, but this is probably the only two people in this show where something like this works. Penny has no real frame of reference for friendship and Ruby is just like that. Once again Blake and Sun out here exploring Blake's past together, nothing narratively important going on! Roman is so charismatic. Honestly I'd like to pound his- Oh hi Neo didn't see you there. Ok, see what I mean with "Adam could've made the jump"? Look at Blake and Sun here. Jumping gaps way larger here. I guess he was too stunned for too long or smth idk. Cool fight scene. Gonna be honest, I fucking hate that the fandom took these combo attacks for ship names. Like the concept is cool and all but at least back in the day following ship discourse could be so fucking annoying. Anyways here we have our first canonical explanation of how Yang's semblance works. "With each hit she gets stronger, and she uses that energy to fight back". Which implies she needs to take the damage to get a boost, something something equivalent exchange, but it wasn't something that was happening first volume. Unless we count 'getting a hair cut' to be taking a hit. That being said, I still wonder what's stopping her from, idk, hitting herself or asking someone else to hit her before a battle (assuming she can predict a battle is coming, ofc) to at least have some energy stored up in a safe environment instead of having to risk tanking hits from her enemies. Never quite understood how Neo's semblance works. It's illusions but they leave behind a physical glass form. But how exactly does it make her vanish? In most cases it doesn't feel like she's creating a flat screen surface but just a second body and… teleporting away. Feels like Blake's semblance but more overpowered, but also she can make anything out of it as shown later… Ah, whatever, I don't think the writers think about it too hard, making sense of it is impossible.

On the Bees: Well, they had their ship name called out.

Ep 5: While I love Pyrrha winning against team Cardinal, I have to wonder… why was she even fighting all four? Were the teachers like "Cardin your team is so shit all four of you against Pyrrha seems fair, go fight" or what. See what I mean? Mercury clearly thinks of his discovery of Pyrrha's semblance as something interesting, but Ozpin himself says they make extensive tests to the people entering Beacon. Even if semblances aren't a matter of 'public' record, Cinder later gets into the systems, so couldn't she just have just… checked then? I understand the 'blake needs to relax' bit but also, trying to force her into the dance? Sun clearly has a crush on her so him asking makes sense but the rest of team RWBY probably should've been more like "you need to fucking sleep" rather than trying to get her into a dance. I really like Pyrrha and I am really sad the crux of her character is "crush on Jaune." She has a lot of interesting shit to explore WHY IS THIS HER FOCUS. Like it's RIGHT THERE. A girl prodigy with an amazing semblance that everyone places on a pedestal. But instead of being about her it's about fucking Jaune.

On the Bees: Well Weiss continues to be the one pressing Blake to be more open. Is their ship name Checkmate? No, doesn't sound right. Uh… Black and White? No. Grey… Monochrome? That one sounds familiar. May be it (Yes, I wrote this as I thought about it. No. I'm not cutting it down). Anyways whatever the ship name is, so far I kinda dig it more than bumblebee. It's amazing really.

Ep 6: Here it is bois the big chapter for bumblebee oh boi let's gooooo Aight Yang attracting Blake with a laser is pretty hilarious. The Jaune/Ren moment did make me chuckle too. Comedy seems to be on point (for my tastes) this episode. Nora/Ren not being 'together together' is a point they make many times and I only ask… why? Nora isn't subtle about her crush on Ren. I guess Ren is quiet and timid but it's clear- Hey wait why is their ship name 'renora'. Don't they get a combo name? I know I complain about them but like. Feels unfair anyways. Other ships involving them get the stupid combo names. Why not them? What was I saying? Oh right it's clear they have a thing going on and like, they've known each other all their lives. This isn't made a point of until like, 7 volumes in. Eh, idk. Honestly, very impressive Pyrrha can just walk and talk normally with that knife—well, more of a fucking sword—on her back. Bla bla Bees conversation comments at the end let's move on. Oh hey that's Qrow's emblem isn't it? Who designs the emblems anyways. The owners of them? Some are unique, some are inherited. They're kinda like Cutie Marks tbh. Jaune offering a White Rose to Weiss, clearly a reference to THE BEST SHIP. MAYBE 2ND BEST SHIP IDK I'M TORN HERE. ENDGAME CONFIRMED BOIS. Blake's first dance is asked for but she still goes to the dance explicitly with Sun. Of course that is meaningless, nothing here ever built them up to have a thing and it is clear Blake never had absolutely any interest in him whatsoever. Anyways look at those background characters. All heterosexual, not a single w/w m/m pairing dancing, other than the 5 seconds of Blake and Yang. The pinnacle of queer representation right here, folks! Ozpin is a little lying shit but I guess experience does let him give good advice.

On the Bees: Ok. I want you to understand something. This? This is the F I R S T time Blake and Yang have a long, one to one conversation. In the show. Volume and a half in. They're not only teammates, they're partners. Ruby and Yang had a couple of conversations. Weiss and Ruby have had many. Even Ruby and Blake, famously interacting very little, had that conversation about books and fairy tales when first meeting. I don't care about the fact that they've spent months together at this time. That's not the point. The point is this conversation? It's the first actually shippable moment between them. Anything prior is /nothing/. You couldn't fucking write a developing relationship out of them with the interactions they've had before this point. From here on out at least there's a base to work with. That established, it's not the best base. Blake isn't her 'usual self' here. She's exhausted and in a terrible mood. The scene is mostly taken over by Yang's backstory. The conversation is Yang trying to make a point. It's a good conversation, and it finally establishes an interaction between them that doesn't feel loose. It's just a conversation I think would've been far more effective if we'd first seen them have more interactions under normal circumstances. Yang does wink at Blake and 'saves her first dance'. I believe this is the only time in this show where she's flirtatious towards a girl. Wonder why they didn't go togehter to the dance, instead of, well, I already said it above.

Ep 7: What was Jaune gonna do here? Beat up Neptune? Don't get me wrong I find him vomitive, as stated before, but the guy doesn't really deserve a beating for not agreeing to a dance, you know? Or was he heading towards Weiss? Kind of unclear, but he did look kinda angry so I assume he was going after Neptune. Like I get Pyrrha being drawn to Jaune for his ignorance of her and I do think that now it makes some sense she may be into him but I still don't buy how into Jaune she originally was. I do like this conversation between Pyrrha and Jaune, though. And, despite everything, this may be the only moment with Neptune that's genuinely funny. The 'I can't dance' part I mean. Usual applies to everything else. Nora and Ren are dancing, and Blake and Sun are… /still/ dancing? I can only assume they took a break, or they just really like dancing. Still not a single background gay! Dress moment is another Top 10 scenes of the show tbh. Throwaway gag turned funny/wholesome moment. Normally I'd call out the synchronized dance but these are hunters I can assume they have the reflexes to pull it off… assuming Jaune leads, anyways. Ah, yes, the legendary terrible running across rooftops scene. Here it is. It's legendary and terrible and funny. For real though I think I've seen worse animation moments before. I think it's just that this one likes like 5 whole ass seconds and gets full focus. Really? Karate chop? I know it's probably for the memes but girl, you can summon crystal blades at a distance. I reckon using those would be more effective. So… who picks the lockers and brings them back to the school after they hit, anyways? Is tehre a fine related to misuse of the feature? It can't be cheap, between reparations to the ground of wherever the locker hits, the damage to the locker itself, and the fuel used to launch it. RWBY giving pursuit and not immediately throwing away the shoes is the most unbelievable thing that has happened yet in this show. I… what? I don't understand teh architecture here. Did Cinder run all the way back to beacon? is the tower connected to beacon? That cut was real strange. Still no background gays! No but guys RT was really forward thinking they were totally queer-minded and had planned bumblebee from the beginning, clearly caring about rep and all that! They just coudln't be bothered to spend a single minute making two men or two women dance.

On the Bees: WAIT IT'S CALLED BUMBLEBY? NOT BUMBLEBEE? WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME, I MUST HAVE LOOKED STUPID! I'm gonna keep calling it bumblebee, idgaf. anyways I think this may be the only time we see Jaune's knees? I'll keep you posted.

Ep 8: APOLLO JUSTICE TRILOGY WAS CRACKED! I WAITED FOR SO LONG!!!! What has that to do with RWBY? Uh, nothing. What was I doing? Oh right rewatching. Anyways- Never fully understood why Ruby wouldn't go to Ozpin about the info before. Sure they were breaking rules but sis this is a lot bigger than you four. The dog. Right. Forgot he existed. I will forget it again. How… how does war work in Remnant, anyways? If you take to a battlefield, Grimm would eventually overrun both forces. It'd be a three-way fight constantly. You'd think kingdoms in general wouldn't ever bother with war. Right? Ozpin giving the job to RWBY instead of a more experienced team could be considered as the reason it all fell apart really.

On the bees: I actually just finished ep 10 and thought this chapter's notes looked weird and that's cuz this episode had literally nothing despite ample chance and I forgot to add this section.

Ep 9: I like Ooblek or however that's written. He's never relevant again aftert his arc but this is how you make secondary characters memorable. "By giving them a gimmick?" Yes! That's actually exactly how you do it! Ace Attorney is an expert at this! Still don't like the dog. Also no huntsman we've ever seen has a dog, right? Weird. See, this seems to imply the Goliaths here are like, the same as Beowulfs or whatever that just lived that long. but… This is later retconned. As far as we know, Salem just creates whatever the hell she needs, and Grimm don't change forms over time. It does appear like they gain more armor over time… sometimes anyways. Like, they probably do grow within a single 'species', but these goliaths aren't any different than the newborns we see later. I also do like Ooblek's motivation. That is a valid reason to be a teacher in this shitty nonsensical world.

On the bees: They, uh. Talk. For like one minute. Weiss is also there.

Ep 10: I appreciate this conversation but here's the thing: Blake speaking of her semblance this way implies they're aware semblances are, well, tied to their characters. This isn't necessarily a problem, if maybe a bit on the nose, but then… wouldn't it also imply everyone should consider what their semblance means? What does Sun's semblance say about himself? That he's always willing to lend a hand? What about, idk, Pyrrha? How does metalbending (And yes, it's metalbending, not polarity, she makes shit levitate not just attract or repel from herself) tie to her personality? Is it just a reflection of her prodigious skill? You'd think it was the other way around. Yang's is obvious (She prefers rolling with the blows), Weiss's too (it's a hereditary semblance), and Ruby's… well, depending on whether we consider the V7/8 development a retcon or not it could change meaning, but let's say it's meant to represent how she's always rushing ahead. So, this being said, woudln't character development change one's semblance? It would be interesting, in fact. Maybe Ruby's semblance wasn't always what it later is, but her experiences changed it. Maybe the inconsistency in Yang's semblance is a reflection of this. I know I'm thinking too hard and nobody ever thought about it, but it's sort of a Jojo's stands situation. In Jojo, your stand is a manifestation of your soul and can develop alongside you. Ruby, girl, NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY. Ruby, girl, you have SUPER SPEED. HOW HAVE YOU NOT TRAINED YOURSELF TO ACTIVATE IT WHEN SHIT LIKE THAT HAPPENS TO YOU. Ruby, girl: you. have. SUPER. SPEED. RUN AWAY. I know he says he's stupid but he really kind of is. Wouldn't 'underground city' be the first place you look at when looking for crime organizations?

On the Bees: Uh… yang calls out to Blake first? Sure, let's go with that.

Ep 11: RUBY GIRL YOU HAVE S U P E R S P E E D RUN AWAY FUCKING HELL YOU'RE NOT EVEN TIED YOU JUST WOKE UP SO YOU CAN'T BE SPENT Jesus, FUCKING FINALLY WHY EVEN TRY TO FIGHT IF YOU'RE THIS USELESS. Which makes no sense, tbw. Crescent Rose, even if it was built with ultralight metals, would still require strenght to use just based on the recoil those shots have and the balance of the whole thing. Ruby should pack a punch. Anyways giving your MC super speed in any capacity is a problem because of shit like this. Superspeed is the most powerful of the 'basic' superpowers (That is: Strenght, Flight, Speed and Endurance. Most stories with superpowers include these 4 in some capacity and speed tends to be the most limited one). I like the bombs moment. It's pretty funny. See what I mean? Ruby shooting herself like that means her arms must take the recoil! Even if we take Aura into account this girl should be at least decently strong. I… could do without the dog moment. Like… it's just more offputting than anything else. Ooblek does take another paladin by himself, which is nice to see, in the 'oh yeah he's a step above the MCs' way. Why does Weiss suddenly give Blake the dust bullets? Why not before? Why not… idk, talk to her about it? Why even make them? Did Weiss ask for them? If so, again, why not give them to her before? I mean I know the answer is probably 'Monty fight scene had this thing and writers had to scramble to fill in the gap' but still. Why does Yang have that moment with Neo? They've only had that one 'interaction' which wasn't particularly personal before. See? The WF leader(?) here makes some sense. We know the Schnees have beef with the Faunus and the White Fang (That being, they're slaver pieces of shit and all that). And, uh, Blake against Roman is… I get what they're going for, but… Idk, I feel Ruby and Roman would've felt more natural. Given they do have that in V3 so I'll let it pass. Man, I love Roman so much. Have I said that before? The biggest crime in early RWBY is not giving him enough screentime, really. I love the theory that he doesn't even have Aura unlocked, since he's clearly not the best fighter out there, man's just very skilled at doing his job. Which doesn't often involve fighting wannabe hunter teenagers. It's why he's basically knocked out after so few blows. Weiss should do the 'haste' glyph thing a lot more often really. Action economy, girl! Everyone knows it's the key to win! I wish Neo had more of a… thing. Like, in general. Her fight against Yang is great, but how the hell did she get that skilled? Why's she working for Roman? Why does she care for Roman so much that she later becomes obsessed with killing Ruby so hard that when she thinks she's done she loses all purpose in life? Not really sure how to feel abotu Raven here. At least we got the Yang backstory to even explain there's something going on there but it feels so… random. And why is Neo so scared? What does she know? Why would she know it? SHE HAS NO BACKSTORY And THIS is why you want your general population with their fucking Aura unlocked!

On the Bees: Man the second Dual Destinies turnabout is kind of a chore so far. Like, I figured pretty much everything by the middle of the first day and I still got another day of investigation and trial to go through? I think the case could be improved considerably by just not showing the face of the killer. I know it's ace attorney tradition to show you the first couple of killers, but still. I like Simon well enough I guess. What happened to Gavin? I don't remember him being fired at the end of AJ.

Ep 12: Jaune taking command, nice. Was that foreshadowing for Ren's backstory? Honestly, not a huge fan of this fight. It's supposed to be super big in scale but I guess the budget didn't allow it? It also feels like it kinda lacks momentum. Also didn't we just spend like 3 episodes exploring Ruby doesn't have physical strength? Why's she kicking the Grimm like that? Don't get me wrong, this makes more sense, I'm just confused. I know it's a common complaint that team Coffee shows up here to steal the show for a bit, since they barely get any screentime ever. It's a fine complaint, understandable. I… actually kinda like it. Also ONE OF THE GUYS IS HOLDING OATHBRINGER. WHAT'S HIS NAME. GREEN GUY. Based. I feel like we should have seen a few adult hunters showing up, though. Non-teachers I mean. Huh. Ironwood did always have his sinister authoritarian vibes. I like that. I still love roman. And that ending dream thing huh. I'm sure the eventual meeting of these two will be totally worth it.

On the bees: Did you know I have written more Ami/Minori (from toradora) than the rest of the internet combined? Irrelevant to RWBY I just wanted to let you know.

For an extra this volume: I watched some of the shorts! I think these were the ones around by V2? Or maybe up to V3? Idk.

WoR "Dust": I assume V6 retroactively kind of explains Dust as the literal dust old humanity was turned into? Which is why it can interact with Aura? Very fucked up, but I like it. I'm on the fence on whether I think they had the creation myth figured by this point or not, but I do think they probably had the rough draft for it. Anyways this short doesn't really add much? It explains the 4 basic types and that you can mix them to make new ones, but everything else we probably could've figured ourselves.

WoR "Kingdoms": Ok so, Vacuo and Vale share a continent, while the other two are in split continets. Just taking note for later, not sure how relevant it becomes. In a worldbuilding sense, I don't think it's very reasonable to actually believe small towns could ever be built outside of big cities protected by natural barriers. Most people are clearly useless in a fight against Grimm, and honestly, just leaving the city shoudl be more than enough nervousness and doubt to attract hordes of them.

WoR "Grimm": Not much to say here, other than just generally wondering why Salem wouldn't just wipe out humanity herself sans a small amount of people who she could pin as Oz and the maidens. And don't say she couldn't have: If she can create that giant whale thing she could've done so a couple thousand years ago when technology wasn't so advanced. If you told me she was purposefully playing this game with Ozma, trying to keep it somewhat fair, I'd understand, but she clearly isn't. Oh well.

Anyways, I think I enjoyed this volume more than the last! Which is weird, I think people consider this to be the weakest of the first three. Idk, despite everything, I found the overall pacing to be slightly better, and we get some deeper info on our characters which is always appreciated. Not much else to say in general, but hey. Also yes, it's still a mess.

Also I'm fairly certain Pyrrha still not passing the bechdel test.

Also, if by any chance you're reading this, Crimson: 1) Why. Why do that to yourself. 2) Last volume you kept flipping your shit at me shipping whiterose and such (and other stuff but idrc about that). You seem to be unaware of the concept of chemistry. Ruby and Weiss are shippable because they have chemistry. Ruby and Penny are shippable because they have chemistry. Actually, all the characters I mentioned as potentially shippable displayed fair amounts of chemistry. And that's always my main concern with bumblebee. Sorry, but "vibing" while not interacting is very much NOT chemistry. It's kind of the opposite. Right now, with the information these two volumes have offered, I could write a lot of dynamics with a certain amount of ease. Bumblebee… not so much, because their interactions are still blank fucking slates. And I'm sorry to say this, but no, emptiness isn't 'complexity' or 'depth'. The only complex thing here is the fucking mental gymnastics you're doing to justify not only every bumblebee moment but also the show's writing as if it was flawless and perfect lmao.

[buckets-and-trees]

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

link to ask more questions

Thanks for the ask, Navy!

In this season of my life one of the things I get out of writing is healing part of who I am. I was a creative child and when I was 13 one day in English class my teacher gave us an assignment to write a short story in the computer lab during that hour, and ... I discovered that I liked doing that and my teacher said it was very good. I'd been a voracious reader, but I'd never thought of writing my own stuff before that day.

In high school I played around with writing a little bit, but not too much. In college I did a LOT of fanfic and was on track to be an English teacher by day and budding novelist by night, but then I discovered a totally different career path about halfway through, and I kept writing for fun, but went all in on career stuff after graduating.

I threw myself completely into work for the first 8-9 years of my career, also took time getting a master's degree... Finishing both my degrees depleted my energy for writing for a while, but I was spending a lot of my brain power on work. And I love my job and career. But about a week before the pandemic lockdown, a pretty monumental thing happened at work that made me realize that I had to start living a life outside of work and only give work 40 hours of my life per week, because they didn't care about me to the levels that I had invested in them.

I started reading fanfic again in 2021. I started playing around just a touch, but then last year I decided that I needed to really invest time into my hobbies again just to enrich my own life on a regular basis, not an occasional basis.

I adore the craft of writing. I love building story in my head. I like scribbling away little notes on my phone when a random idea strikes. There's nothing quite like the stories that come up where the idea can consume me and it literally just pours out when I sit down to type. Some of my writing has helped me to work out things I'm thinking about in my personal life. Some of it is total wish fulfillment. Some of it is to challenge myself in new genres or new characters. I like the accomplished feeling of just finishing something. Even though I wrote a lot of stuff in the HP fandom during my college time (mostly one-shots), I never finished any of my WIPs back then (I had 4-5 of them), and so when I finished posting the 12 official parts of The Brooklyn Boys, I got a HUGE amount of satisfaction!

And now that I've jumped back into the community part of the fandom and fanfic writing again, it's also been so enriching to engage with people here - whether it's just the casual comments, baby acquaintance level, new friendships that are in starting stages, or people I feel like I'm genuinely building bonds with that I'll treasure for years... that part is pretty great, too.

My goal this year is to write and complete my first original fiction novel - just like my old HP fandom days, I started a few different original fic projects way back, but never finished. It's going to be my big summer project, and I've been scribbling away some notes on 2-3 big ideas. I think I know which one I want to go all in on first, but I want to have multiple irons in the fire just so I don't feel like I get stuck on anything.

THAT WAS A LOT OF TALKING. But anyway. Abrupt end of post now because we don't need a novel here.

[angst-fairygodmother]

i love ur stuff!!! do u think u could write something like diego and the reader not liking eachother (maybe the reader is friends with klaus or allison or someone) and then slowly they begin to like eachother ??? :0

A/N: Thank you so much for the sweet message Nonny ☺ it was a lovely prompt, and I hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2060 Content Warning: mild swearing

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you like Diego?” Klaus asked one evening as the two of you lounged on your couch watching Allison’s latest red carpet event.

“Is that a serious question?” you counter with a raised eyebrow, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

“Yeah. I mean, you get along with everyone else, literally. But not Diego.”

“I don’t get along with everyone else. And I just…think he’s jerk.”

“He is. But so’s Luther and you like him fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it. I just, every time I talk to your brother I get filled with this overwhelming desire to hit something.”

Klaus started laughing and you raised an eyebrow questioningly. He just shook his head, still laughing. However, he dropped the subject after that and you decided not to push him on what might have been so funny.

~

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smirk, still holding onto your arm.

“Oh don’t do that, Diego,” you snapped. “Don’t act like you did me some favor and I should be grateful.”

“I just saved your life, Y/N.”

“It was a guy on a bike; I think I would have been fine. I can take care of myself.” You folded your arms over your chest, pulling out of his grasp in the process. “What are you even doing here?”

He shrugged. “Out for a walk.”

“Really? In this part of town nowhere near anything you usually have to do with?”

He shrugged. “It was a long walk.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m outta here.”

“Not gonna offer to buy me dinner for saving your life?” he called after you as you started to walk away.

“In your dreams Hargreeves,” you shot back.

~

The next time you saw Diego, you had called him to meet you and he seemed quite surprised when he showed up to the park.

“What’s going on, Y/N? No offense, but you were the last person I was expecting to hear from,” he asked, trying to hide the fact that concern had made him run most of the way there.

“It’s Klaus. He hasn’t been by in a while and he missed our weekly breakfasts. He never does that, especially since I pay. So I’m worried and…I couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. Sorry to bother you.” You shifted uncomfortably and bit your lip, worried that you had annoyed him and that he would refuse to help.

“Shit,” he sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Alright, I’ll help you look for him. But the kind of places he hangs out…we probably shouldn’t split up, even if it would let us cover more ground.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking too. I figured I should call someone in for backup.” You shrugged and forced a smile.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, figuring that you would be more likely to actually spot him if you moved on foot than by car, even if it would take you more time. And, if you were being honest, you didn’t mind the amount of time. You found that when you weren’t actively fighting, you appreciated the presence of the other Hargreeves. You certainly felt safe with him beside you, between the knives and the subtle strength that you could see in his stance and the muscles that his clothing clung to.

“Is there something going on between you and Klaus?” he asked suddenly after a while of quiet.

“What? No. He’s my best friend. I don’t…I don’t see him like that.”

He gave you a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe you.

“I’m serious. I love him sure, but the same way I love my baby sister. I want the world for him and would do anything for him but…romantically…blegh.” You scrunched up your face in disgust at the thought and the man beside you laughed.

“So if not my brother…is there someone special?”

You fell silent, studying Diego through the corner of your eye. Part of you itched to snap that it was none of his business. The other part of you, quite rebelliously, admired the slope of his shoulders beneath his black sweater and the cut of his jaw, how the long scar above his ear interrupted his smooth, almost militaristic appearance and made him more attractive, more dangerous looking.

“No,” you said, after maybe too long of silently enjoying the view of him. “No one’s seemed worth my time.”

“You really think highly of yourself don’t you?” he laughed.

“What?”

“’No one’s seemed worth my time,’” he quoted back, “sounds awfully pretentious.”

You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “No…I just meant that I’ve dated quite a few duds in the past, and I don’t see the point in wasting my time. If I don’t feel a connection with the person before we go out…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s high maintenance, but I’d rather be that than miserable.”

He nodded and stayed silent. A quick glance over at him showed that he was lost in thought.

As the two of you patrolled, looking for any sign of Klaus, you found yourself wondering more and more about the mysterious “Number Two.” But after several hours, even though you were enjoying your, mostly silent, time together, you were growing frustrated.

“This is hopeless,” you groaned. “It’s going to take the two of us days to canvass the whole city, and if he’s been checked in somewhere, we still won’t find him.”

“You’re probably right, Y/N,” Diego said with a nod. “Let’s grab some lunch and then we can start—”

“Calling the usual rehab centers,” you finished at the same time as him. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”

He smiled softly at you and reached out, as if offering you his hand to hold before quickly retreating and shoving them into his pockets.

“Do you like Greek? I know a great Greek diner nearby,” he offered.

~

After that day, you found yourself spending more time with Diego, realizing your initial distaste was misguided, a snap judgement that he really didn’t deserve. One afternoon, Klaus caught you chatting with his brother on the phone, he had called to invite you to one of his boxing matches, and twirling the cord between your fingers as you did.

“Oh. My. God.” he cried out, slapping his hands to either side of his face with exaggerated shock. “You liiiike him.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, punching him lightly, a hot blush creeping across your face at the thought of Diego potentially hearing.

“What was that?” he asked, voice tinny through the receiver.

“Nothing, just your idiot brother.”

You heard him chuckled. “I see. Well, anyway, the gym is kinda out of the way so it can be hard to find, so how about I meet you at your place and we can walk there together?”

“You don’t have to do that Diego.”

“But maybe I want to?”

“O-oh,” you stammered, thrown by the warmth in his voice. “Well, in that case, that sounds nice.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

“A date?” you raised your eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it and tried your best to ignore Klaus’s flailing and pumping his fist excitedly in the air.

“Yeah, a date. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Okay, see you later Diego.”

You were smiling when you hung up the phone, and the warmth in your chest made you feel like you were floating. So much so that you were completely compliant to Klaus dragging you through the apartment the two of you sort of shared, insistent on picking out the “perfect outfit” for you to “stun his brother so hard he drops in shock and awe.”

~

The night of the date, you fidgeted nervously on your couch, bouncing your leg and chewing on the corner of your thumbnail, waiting for Diego to get there. A thousand thoughts a minute ran through your mind and you stomach twisted itself in knots. You tried to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, the two of you had become friends over the past several weeks, and there was no reason to think this evening was going to be any different, just because Diego had said it was going to be a date.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the buzzer or notice Klaus rushing to greet his brother until Diego stood in the doorway, trying to get around his brother to say hello.

“If you ever hurt her Diego,” Klaus said sternly, poking an index finger against his brother’s chest, blocking the short hallway of your apartment.

Diego raised an eyebrow as if challenging whether Klaus was actually trying to threaten him.

“If you ever hurt her, my beloved brother or not, I will eat your shoelaces,” Klaus continued, undaunted, eyes narrowed and face the picture of seriousness.

“What?”

“Every single shoelace. Slurp ‘em up like spaghetti. Inconvenient as hell.”

“Klaus, you are my very best friend and I love you,” you interrupted, rising to go and stand by the two, equally unable to get Klaus out from between. “But what the fuck? Please don’t eat shoelaces in my defense. God that is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever said…”

“Yeah, and we can’t afford to take to the vet and have them removed when they tangle around your intestines,” Diego added, rolling his eyes. “We’ll have to just put you down.”

“Unsettling and inconveniencing my family and dying? Best day ever!” Klaus gave a little clap and jump of joy, which quickly morphed into an apologetic look when he glanced over his shoulder and saw your glare.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way. You two crazy kids have fun now,” he said cheerfully, as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened. “Don’t do anything I would do!”

You rolled your eyes as he sidled past back to the living room, giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he did.

Diego felt his jaw drop as he took in your outfit. It wasn’t quite your usual style, but was enough like you to not feel like you were trying so hard. And you looked stunning in it.

“Wow,” he eventually breathed, causing you to chuckle and rub the back of your neck nervously. “You look…I don’t know if I’m going to be able to focus on the fight with you looking like that.”

“It was Klaus’s idea,” you mumbled. “I know it’s a bit much…”

“No!” he assured, a little too quickly. “It’s great…you look great.”

You shot him a slightly flirtatious smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” You let your eyes rove over his tight-fitted jeans and Henley, in black of course.

“C-c-can I kiss you?” he stammered, stepping closer. “For luck?”

You responded by snaking your arms around his neck and leaning in to press your lips to his. He groaned into the kiss, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your sides and pulling you closer. Gently, he backed you up the few steps necessary to pin you against your wall, running his tongue over your lower lip at the same time. You let out a little gasp as you bumped into the plaster and he took the opportunity to slip in and begin exploring your mouth.

Grasping his hair in your fist, you eventually pulled him away from you to drink deeply of the air, trying to ignore the wave of desire that shot through you when the action made him moan hungrily.

“We should stop,” you panted.

“Why?” he responded, equally out of breath and fighting your grip to kiss the side of your neck.

“You have a match to get to. Wouldn’t this be so much better as a reward for winning it?” You teased lightly. “And somewhere your brother wasn’t…?”

He laughed. “You have a point there. I want you all to myself.”

“Well then get a move on. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

He threaded his fingers through yours as he led you through the door.

“Don’t wait up!” you called back over your shoulder to Klaus, making Diego groan once more and you smirked. Tonight was shaping up to be even better than you could have hoped.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober day 31 — Comfort, Bedside vigil

Man. Day 31 already. October always goes by way too fast.

This was originally going to be a continuation for another day (cookies for you if you can guess which) but it wasn’t working, so I scrapped it and wrote something new :)

Thanks to everyone who stuck around and read my insanity, as well as all the lovely comments and tags left on reblogs! You all are so sweet, thank you so much for the support <3

I hope you guys enjoy this last day!

Warnings: a little bit of violence, uncertainty I guess? Intense worry over a character?

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind could tell something was up with Four.

The smithy was usually pretty quiet, but lately he’d seemed sort of... numb almost, and after dinner when they’d all usually stay up talking, Four would go right to bed without a word. He wasn’t eating much either, and Wind watched as his eyes grew dimmer by the day.

A few of the other heroes seemed to have noticed the smithy’s odd behavior, but appeared to be giving Four space to work out whatever it was. And maybe Wind would have done that too, but he wasn’t an emotionally stunted mess like most of the Links, and could see that Four was hurting, and needed someone to talk to.

Something was weighing him down, and Wind was determined to find out what.

So he waited for a good opportunity to catch the smithy and figure out what was wrong. Which actually came along sooner than he thought. Wind ended up at the back of the group with him as they trekked through someone’s Hyrule Field one day, and the sailor shot Four a look as they plodded along.

“So... you’ve been pretty quiet lately smithy,” he began, and decided to just plunge in. “Is something wrong? I mean, Wild totally snapped that sword in half earlier and you barely flinched.”

Four blinked at Wind’s abrupt question, then shrugged, looking back down at the road.

“I suppose.“

Wind watched Four walk, head bowed and shoulders drooping, and he trotted up closer to him, giving him a concerned look.

“Well... what is it? Anyway I can help?” he asked earnestly, and Four sent him a weak smile.

“You can’t help with this sailor, but I appreciate the concern,” he said quietly. “It’s not something anyone can just fix.”

Wind blinked, then his voice softened.

“Does it have to do with the letter you got the other day?” he asked quietly, and Four hesitated, then gave him a nod. “Is everything okay back in your time?”

Four sighed, and stopped walking.

Wind stopped next to him, and the smithy waited until the group was a little further out of earshot before he finally spoke.

“My Zelda is sick,” he whispered, sounding miserable, and Wind felt a sharp pang of worry roll in his stomach. “It’s not too serious or anything, but it’s also the sort of sickness that can easily become serious, and I’m not...”

He let out a frustrated noise, and Wind nervously shifted his weight.

“...I’m not there,” he whispered. “I can’t do anything. Dot doesn’t get sick very often, but when she does it’s always rough on her. And I’m not there.”

Four’s voice cracked at the end, and Wind quickly drew him into a hug, squeezing the older boy in a comforting embrace.

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Wind asked quietly.

“Because then you guys would all worry,” Four said with a ghost of a laugh. “That wouldn’t help anything.”

“Maybe not, but keeping it to yourself isn’t much better,” Wind pointed out, then gave the smithy a squeeze. “We’re your family, Four. We want to know when something’s bothering you, even if it’ll make all of us worried as well.”

He pulled back just a little and gave him a small smile.

“Besides. We were worried anyways, everyone could tell something’s been weighing on you lately.”

Four didn’t have a reply, other then a small nod as he hugged Wind back.

(...)

Four got another letter later that week, and Wind watched as he hesitated to open it, looking down at the envelope in dread.

The smithy had finally told the other heroes about Dot being ill, and they’d all reacted about how Wind would’ve expected; worried questions and a general need to do something to help the princess, even though there was nothing to be done.

That was probably the whole hero’s spirit thing, now that Wind thought about it.

Anyways, they’d run across the mailman a little while ago, and the only mail he’d had was a letter for Four, which the smithy was looking at in quiet dread. Wind went to sit next to him, and gave his arm an encouraging squeeze, and the smithy slowly ripped the envelope open, hands almost conspicuously steady.

He read the enclosed note in silence, then set it down, breathing out slowly.

“She’s worse,” he said quietly. “She’s not getting better, and it should’ve run its course by now. One of the maidens thinks it might be magical in nature, possibly a deliberate attack, or... poisoning. They’re not sure what it is. And she won’t wake up.”

Camp went silent, and everyone exchanged looks full of a deep worry.

“Oh Four,” Sky said sympathetically, and the smithy barely protested when Wind pulled him into a tight hug.

Four only seemed to get more downtrodden after the news from the letter, and Wind tried to stick by his side over the next few days, watching rather worriedly as the smithy withdrew into himself. Four was one of the quieter members of their group, but never to this extent.

Wind knew if the situation had happened to him, if Tetra had been the one sick for example, he’d be just as worried and upset. But seeing Four, usually so poised and smart, often with a knowing gleam in his eye and eager to discuss nearly any topic, become so lifeless was awful.

So he stuck by him, offering support in what ways that he could.

Nothing much changed for several days after that, until the group came across a portal, swirling right in the middle of the road. Wind watched Four’s hands clench at his sides, and they all quickly walked through, coming out into a warm sunny forest.

Wind looked up at the cheery green trees and bright sunshine as he shook off the dark magic, inwardly pouting a bit at the obvious indicator it wasn’t his time they’d landed in. Maybe next time.

“Wait,” Four suddenly spoke up from next to him, eyes widening. “These are the Minish woods, we’re... we’re in my time.”

The moment the meaning of the smithy’s words sank in, Warriors immediately asked what direction they needed to go. Four wordlessly began moving, and the rest of them exchanged glances before following him.

As soon as they reached a road, Four made a frantic beeline for the castle in the distance, and the rest of them followed with equal haste. The castle and the small town surrounding it fortunately weren’t far, and Four practically burst through the doors as they arrived, skipping hellos to those inside and asking only “where is she.”

He was directed to the princess’s bedroom, and Wind kept pace with him as he strode at a pace just shy of a full-out sprint (they were in a castle after all). Upon reaching the door Four just barely caught himself from crashing in, instead carefully creaking it open and walking inside to the dimly lit room.

Wind poked his head in behind him, uncertain if his presence would be appreciated as the other heroes finally caught up.

Four motioned them in when he saw them standing by the door, and they quietly entered, not a word spoken as they looked at the room’s occupant.

Dot lay in her bed, eyes closed and face pale.

Wind had only met her once, but the difference between the energetic princess and the pale girl in the bed before him made his stomach twist. Her hair had been brushed neatly away from her face, but the red strands seemed dim and limp. Dark circles lay under her eyes despite the fact she was asleep, and Four crossed the room near silently as he went to her side.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, and hesitated with his hand on her cheek, quietly studying her closed eyes and paled skin.

Then he settled in a chair by her bedside, took her hand, and didn’t leave her side for the next several days.

Wind spent as much time with him as he could, partially out of worry for Dot, and partially out of worry for Four, who seemed more and more wearied the longer the princess lay in bed, unmoving. She occasionally stirred just a little, but never long, and the healer that was tending to her said they were sure now it was more of a magical ailment then they’d originally thought.

The information didn’t seem to make Four feel any better.

The other heroes spent time with Dot as well, but Wind knew they were trying to focus on the reports of monster attacks that had been filtering in, probably the true reason they’d ended up in this time. Hyrule tried once to see if his magic could do anything, but there was seemingly no effect, and Four merely nodded when he apologized.

After nearly a week of no change from Dot, they got a report of a large group of strangely powerful monsters by the south side of the woods they’d arrived in. Black-blooded it seemed, and they were headed straight for Hyrule Town.

“We can manage without you if you want to stay, smithy,” Twilight said in a quiet voice as they explained the situation to him. “Eight of us should be enough based on the numbers that were reported.”

“None of us would begrudge you for it,” Warriors added, and the rest of them murmured in agreement.

Four closed his eyes and didn’t speak for several long moments.

“It’s my job as hero to protect these people,” he said quietly, “and this is my home. I can’t let you all fight for it without me, even if you could easily manage it.”

Four stood, then gently lifted the princess’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“Besides. If Dot were awake she’d tell me to go,” he said softly.

Then he picked up his sword, and left the room.

(...)

The monsters were easy to locate, multiple reports of their location allowing the heroes to hunt them down quickly.

The group of beasts was large, but mostly lower leveled monsters like tektites and chus, along with some that Wind didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an easy fight by any means, but a bit more manageable than some of the ones they’d fought together in the past, even with the large amount of enemies.

Four especially fought with an unusual ferocity, less form and more anger in his sharp strikes. He was taking on the sole stalfos in the group singlehandedly, and Wind tried to keep half an eye on him as he fought a rather large chu.

There was something a bit odd about the monster Four was fighting though, and Wind frowned as he looked at the large eye-like jewel it had on its forehead.

Stalfos didn’t usually have that... did they?

He wasn’t the only one who seemed to have noticed the unusual stalfos, and he saw Legend especially give it some odd looks. What was it the veteran had said the other day? Shoot the eye?

Before he could try and act on Legend’s earlier advice, another chu leapt at him, and by the time Wind had defeated it and glanced back, Four had driven his blade straight into the stalfos’s forehead.

It let out a rattling cry, then burst into black smoke, the force of it so powerful Four was thrown backwards.

Wind yelped as he was buffeted by the explosion, then ran to the dazed smithy’s side, offering him a hand as he dizzily sat up.

“That was weird,” Four said breathlessly, letting Wind help him up. “There was so much magic recoil, it was like... like I broke a curse or something.”

“I felt it too,” Hyrule said worriedly from nearby, clutching a bleeding arm to his chest. “You definitely broke something.”

None of them had any clue what it was that Four had ended up breaking though, and they shelved the conversation in order to catalogue injuries.

Several of the group had been hurt, and the sun was nearly set, so they decided to stay the night in the woods and head back to the castle in the morning. Four wasn’t happy about it, but Wind distracted him by asking him to help maintenance his weapons after the fight. It kept them both busy while Wild made dinner, and Four almost smiled at him at one point, before his expression fell again. Then they were called for dinner.

Wind had barely sat down to eat the meal Wild had cooked up when a sudden shout rang from the road nearby.

“Link!”

They all turned at the cry, but Four practically leapt to his feet when an official looking messenger came out of the bushes.

“Link, it’s the princess,” the man said breathlessly, and Four paled. He stumbled forwards and grabbed the messenger’s shoulders with a terrified look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is... is she—?”

The messenger rapidly shook his head, waving his hands. “No! Link, that’s just it, it’s good news!”

Four froze, going so still Wind thought he might’ve stopped breathing.

“You mean..?” he breathed, and the messenger smiled.

“Princess Zelda has woken up.”

Legend let out a rather loud gasp, and they all turned to look at him.

“She was cursed!” he nearly shouted, running a shocked hand through his hair. “That’s why she was so sick, and that was what was up with the stalfos, it must have been tied to it somehow!”

Four blinked, looking rather overwhelmed as Wind jumped up from his seat and excitedly took his hand.

“You broke the curse smithy!”

(...)

Four went back to the castle immediately, joined by Wind when Time warned him not to go alone.

They made record time to the castle, the moon high in the sky as they burst in once again to the princess’s chambers. Four ran to her bedroom door, then with an movement sharply contrasting his entire frantic state, carefully pushed open the door.

Dot was sitting up in bed, tying her hair out of her face, and her eyes lit up the moment she saw Four.

“Link!” she grinned, looking tired, but awake, and Four crossed the room in what appeared to be a single step, pulling her into an desperate embrace.

Dot squirmed in his hold though, pushing his arms back with a smile.

“Link, you’ll catch germs,” she said, batting him away.

“I don’t care, I was terrified for you Zelda,” he said, the words muffled from his face being pressed into her shoulder. “And I can’t get germs from a curse.”

After a moment the smithy seemingly relented from his hug, and Dot stopped trying to push him away. But the moment she relaxed, Four quickly pulled her into another hug, ignoring her squeak of “germs!”

Wind laughed as she struggled, but Four refused to let her go.

“Link I’m serious! It may have been a curse, but it started as a cold. You’re going to catch it and spread it who knows where,” she scolded, but there was no heart in it. Four only tightened the embrace, and Dot finally gave up, sinking into his arms with a sigh.

“I’d let myself get sick a thousand times if it meant I’d get to hold you,” Four said quietly, and Dot rested her head on his shoulder, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

Her eyes flicked over to Wind, and she smiled at him, and the sailor smiled back, relieved at the sight of her awake.

“Are you doing okay?” Four asked quietly, and Dot drew back a bit, taking his hands in hers.

“Yes Link, I’m feeling much better. Just still a bit worn out, and annoyed I somehow let myself get cursed,” she sighed, but the sound was rather tired.

“Four was the one who broke it,” Wind spoke up. “It was somehow tied to a monster, and he stabbed it right in the head!”

Four blushed a bit at Wind’s exultations, and his face only went more red when Dot leaned forwards and pecked his cheek.

“My hero,” she smiled, and the two stared into each other’s eyes as they both leaned forward again.

Wind suddenly had a feeling his presence was rather unneeded, and slunk towards the door, leaving the two to continue making gooey eyes at each other.

He glanced back to see Four press a gentle kiss to Dot’s lips, and smiled to himself as he closed the door.

[lesbean05]

Day 1 of ronancetober

I know it’s technically the 2nd, I was busy today but hey at least I did something.

It’s a mess at the end but it went somewhere kinda coherent but I need to sleep so sorry

Day 1 prompt is upside down

I think I’ll probably post this on A03 aswell

“Oh, God, please, no” Robin pleaded, stumbling from her sprint to her knees in front of Nancy’s scarily still body.

“No, no, Nance, come on,” she gasped between heavy breaths, cupping Nancy’s face with her hands, pulling her gently into her chest.

Robin had first thought something was wrong with Nancy when they all got out of the upside down the first time. She had never been one for social queues or noticing changes in body language or behaviour, but she credited the amount of time she had spent examining herself and the signs she gave off that she was hiding something to notice it in her friends.

Definitely not the amount of time that she spent staring at Nancy per day, which she knew was way too long to be platonic.

So when Robin had heard the news from Steve, who had heard from Dustin, who had heard from Mike that Nancy hadn’t turned up for dinner for the third night in a row, she cursed herself for not taking the time to ask her if she was ok. She cursed herself for her stupid feelings getting in the way of genuinely caring about her friend.

The panic had arisen in the party quite quickly. Everyone had confirmed that none of them had seen Nancy since they got to the hospital with Max, and a pit had grown in Robin’s stomach that had forced her out of the room where the rest of the group were arguing.

So now, after their carefully- formulated plan, the planning of which had taken another two painfully slow hours, Robin had finally found Nancy. But something was wrong.

Nancy was a mess. Her clothes were torn and covered in upside down goop and, Robin realised with fear, blood. Her hair stuck messily to her face, which was coated in sweat, and her unnaturally pale face was screwed up in what looked like pain, her eyes squeezed closed and a slight wheeze in her breath.

Robin, while still horrified at Nancy’s condition, was relieved that she still showed some semblance of life, and all of a sudden her whole life’s purpose became to get Nancy Wheeler, the resident priss of Hawkins high, to safety.

She twisted her grip on the smaller girl so that she could hook her arm under Nancy’s legs, and wrapped the other under torso, to carry her bridal style as far as she could.

She stood up with much difficulty, her already uncoordinated manner hindered with the weight of another person, and she sucked a heavy breath in through her teeth, wobbling a few steps around before turning to start walking back towards the trailer park.

However, as much as Robin loved staring into Nancy’s endlessly deep eyes, her heart faltered when her eyes sprang open, her limp hand sprang up to desperately clutch at a particularly dark patch of blood at her side, and a pained groan escaped her lips.

Robin’s heart broke, as she took in just how hurt Nancy actually was, but continued her slow trudging to safety.

“Rob- Robin…” Nancy gasped into her chest, followed by a sharp cry that sent Robin’s stomach plummeting into the ground

“Please… hurts so much… stop” Nancy cried in between sobs, but Robin carried on. Tears began falling down Nancy’s face, and Robin focused her gaze on the direction she was still slowly trudging, trying in vain to blink back her own tears building on her eyelid.

By the time they finally arrived at Eddie’s trailer, Robin’s arms were burning and her feet felt like they were made of lead. She wobbled up the stairs and into the small living area, and gently as she could, plopped Nancy down onto the couch, kneeling in front of her, eyes wide in fear.

“Nance? What the hell happened? What do you need? How-“

She was cut off by an abrupt sob from Nancy, and she practically lunged forward to take the hand that the other girl offered her.

“I- I came looking for Barb.” Nancy rasped

Robin knew who she was talking about, Barbra Holland, her old friend from band who died a few years ago, that one still lay in Robin’s ever growing pile of stuff in her brain labelled ‘to process later’

“I thought, since we got Will back, I might have-“

“Shhh, I understand, but you need to rest. What happened to you?”

“One of those bat things, Steve… wasn’t kidding”

Robin tensed at the mention of what had happened to her best friend. She had been so terrified after they found him, bleeding, writhing helplessly with no less than three demobats attacking him. She began to well up even at the thought of Nancy going through the same thing.

……

By the time Nancy had been sent home from the hospital all stitched up, it was around 11pm, and Steve had offered up his home as a temporary base for the whole party while they figured everything out and got Nancy back. So they returned there, and Robin had refused to leave her side throughout the whole process.

Now, Nancy was sitting in bed, with Robin awkwardly perched at her feet, waiting. Steve had just left to tend to the kids, leaving the two alone with the confirmation to Steve that Nancy didn’t need anything and they could share the room.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“About what?” Robin snapped out of her daze, still looking anywhere but Nancy’s eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know, just you saving my life?”

“I wouldn’t really call it saving your life, I-“

“No, I don’t think you understand, you carried me half a mile while I was barely conscious. If that’s not saving, then I don’t know what is.”

“Well… I- I just…” Robin trailed off awkwardly. She wasn’t used to receiving compliments or thanks from others, growing up in her family, but she’d improved since the whole ‘spitting in a Russian soldier’s face’ thing.

“Come here” Nancy instructed, opening her arms to invite her for a hug, and Robin awkwardly obeyed, crawling up to lay with her head gently on Nancy’s shoulder.

“You know, you can tell me what’s wrong” Nancy prompted, and she finally captured Robin’s eyes with hers, and how could Robin say no to the most beautiful person on the planet.

“I think I’m in love.”

“Oh?” Nancy replied, eyes sparkling with intrigue.

“There’s someone that I really can’t stop thinking about, I love them so much, and they mean so much to me, they have had such a big impact on my life, and I spend all day with them, and I stare and daydream and babble and I make a mess and I’m bad at following instructions and I have no intuition and no common sense and no social skills, but they somehow still put up with me.”

“Well, I think this person sees the real you, the creative, compassionate, loving, loyal, thoughtful, kind, unique you that’s really there, and I think they think you’re absolutely wonderful.”

“Nancy?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m talking about-“

“Me?”

“Well… ye- yes… I mean I-“

“I love you too”