#that's almost ten years ago holy shit!!!! wild

[piratespencil]

This is so funny to me. Reducing them down to their simplest attributes. Turning them into symbols.

[asexual-spongebob]

The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 30 - Closing Time

Notes:

I can’t believe this fanfic is actually coming to an end- it feels like just yesterday this was just a concept. Just a thought. Just an idea. Just a drawing. But now here I am, many months later. Posting the last chapter… But don’t worry! Our beloved fish dudes aren’t going to be completely gone after this! I have a feeling I’m still going to think about this AU quite a bit. Who knows, maybe in the future I’ll post some one shots of them. And I know for a fact I’ll probably still make animations or pmvs with them most likely. I have actually made some pmvs of this au already if you’d like to watch them For yourself:) https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLW7sHfzMCSsxyuwvZ9RvFfwjukOMHv1_3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hey it’s Shellington! It’s been many years since the “Kwazii was bitten by a cobra”  incident. I still can’t believe that was 11 years ago! 

I’m thankful that he survived!

Now Kwazii’s the captain of the Octopod, Barnacles retired a few years ago and now lives up in the Arctic near Pearl and Bianca. 

Inkling is still here, somehow. Koshi helps ink out in the library. 

Me and Peso are happily married and have been for almost ten years! Our anniversary is coming up. 

Kwazii and Paani and Dashi and Tweak also got married many years ago. 

After the “Kwazii was bitten by cobra” incident Kwazii and Paani found a newborn kitten (which they named Kai, as it means ocean or sea in several languages.) and took her in. Kai is 11 years old and they are quite intelligent, they like watching me do my experiments. 

Me and Peso also have a child  as well, their name is Lucia and they are almost 11 years old, she’s an albino sea otter and I saved her from being eaten by a predator. 

Periwinkle is now in college and is majoring in Marine Biology, we still talk quite often. 

We look back fondly (or… not so fondly) on our adventures (and misadventures) together. 

Like that time Peso got moonstruck and through that party, or our crazy times in the Amazon! Or the time Paani forced us all to watch (or in me and Dashi’s case, rewatch) Invader Zim. We all became fixated in the process-

Anyway. Thanks for reading our story :) 

~ Shellington Sea Otter.

Notes:

Holy shit that was a wild ride. I just want to thank everyone for reading this fic, leaving a comment, leaving kudos, likes or upvoting, it really means the world to me. I genuinely didn’t think so many people would want to read this kind of fic, but boy was I mistaken. I’m honestly very proud of this, this is the first ever long fic I actually finished and didn’t abandon. How I even thought of this AU was I saw my dear friend, Midori’s Octonauts Mermaid AU “Reclaimed By Nature” (which by the way, is a very good fanfic, I’d definitely recommend giving it a read! Especially if you’re a fan of Kwazton and Pearlanca! You can read it here: https://reclaimed-by-nature.carrd.co/) And I thought that was pretty neat. So I wondered to myself “huh… what if I made a H2O x Octonauts AU?” So I started to think of concepts. I had a couple in mind, one of the first being that Shellington would keep the secret much longer (he didn’t even tell Peso for awhile, which he would’ve felt very guilty about) and that he would’ve been very stressed about keeping it hidden from everyone. (Which, was inspired by a merman Lewis h2o AU fic I read, called H2O: A New Tail) Another one I had was basically the same as the first, but Peso would’ve found out sooner, as he would’ve gone after Shellington after got splashed while they were cleaning the beach, and he would’ve found him in the kelp forest. Shell would’ve tried to tell him that it was just a costume but Peso wouldn’t have really bought that so he would’ve told Peso the truth and Peso would’ve been like “it’s okay I still love you :) <3” One of the things I originally planned for this fic was that it’d be short, around 12 or 13 chapters, and that It’d just be about the lives and times of Peso and Shellington after Shellington became a merman. But now here we are, many chapters and scrapped concepts later- I actually even have an AU of this AU, it’s basically where I put all my scrapped concepts (one of the being that Paani was always a merm, I even wrote a short one shot about it, which I’ll probably post sometime soon) I named it “The Sight”. I originally planned for this fic to have 40 chapters, but I realized that many of them were unnecessary, so I scrapped most of them, other then my concept for chapter 35, which I kept and incorporated into chapter 29. Also I might make a story about Kai and Lucia??? If y’all really want that… It’s probably not gonna be anything big, just one shots or something but I mean maybe? If that’s what y’all want? Like I’d be happy to write a short fics on their origin story’s. After this fic, I might write a fic for another Octonauts AU I came up with that ive nicknamed “Invader Kwazii”. It’s an Invader Zim x Octonauts AU where Kwazii is sent to conquer Earth by The Tallest (who are Barnacles and Inkling) because they think he’s worthy of it. And it’s basically the plot of Invader Zim after that, there’s a few differences (like how it takes place in high school) tho, but other then it’s very similar to the plot. It also has Kwazini. It’s a little passion project for me, not to mention I’ve got plenty of ideas of how I want it to go. Another AU of mine I’ve been thinking about writing is my “Vampire Kwazton AU” it’s basically a AU where Shellington is a vampire and it takes place during the early 1990s when Grunge music was the big thing. It’s still a w.i.p but that might be a fic I write in the future, if I do I might just be a ficlet collection or something of the sort. Another fic I have I in mind is for my “Shellinoir” AU. Which will probably be a series of one shots. I came up with it after watching the SpongeBob episode “Squid Noir” which is where I got the title. It’ll likely be just a series of one shots. I also am currently pre writing an Invader Zim AU fanfic, it’s an AU where Dib and Gaz are sirens. I’ve currently got some chapters of it already written, however I want to finish it before I post it. I feel like this fic has taught me a lot and I’m glad.

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

2023 Writing Stats

A little late of this but I'm setting but I'm setting up my tracker for this year and wanted tto share:

Words written: 56,991

Words by Project:

Syndicate: 48,697

Second Chance: 6,770

Other: 1,524

Current Word Count for Syndicate: 82,329

Cumulative Hours spent writing: 59

Reflection:

While I wish I could have gotten more regularity, I am impressed at how much of Syndicate I've written. While some of those counts are part of planning, I started the year with 33K, and ended with 82K. Given that, I should definitely be able to finish that draft this year. That makes me hopeful.

Also I simply cannot believe that. 82K words? Don't get me wrong, I know that means editing will mean cutting things, and that will suck. But 82K??? I remember when I struggled to make a chapter last more than 500 words. I can't believe how much of this I've written. The story this was rewritten from, that I wrote maybe... holy shit, ten years ago??? Is 43K. I was Using the 40K is minimum for a novel and squeaked by and now I'm not done at almost twice that? it's wild.

I also came up with a new idea this year that has taken enough hold on me that I really want to write it. That doesn't happen often, or as strongly, as this did. Both Syndicate and Second Chance are such old ideas that I was suprised at how well I could know something that came to me this year.

I definitely got away from posting here, so maybe I'll try to do that more this year, too.

[survivalxofxthexfittest]

JP was tired of mopping up rotten bat bits. If Charlie hadn't been the second in command at Rosie's, his clean-up assistance would have long ended. But she'd asked for his help and his help he would give. Rosie hadn't seemed as keen to have him hanging around, but with the three of them rotating duties the diner was less revolting than the rest of the affected rooms - the eighth floor included. It was still beyond disgusting and he nearly lost his breakfast a few times over the smell before finally taking a break.

"Just give me five minutes," he called out to Charlie as she went toward the back of the diner.

He sat down with a sigh and let his head roll back, rubbing his shoulders to ease the tension. Ten years ago he never have gotten so winded from just cleaning. He felt more drained than ever over the last two days. The apocalypse was slowly sucking the life from him and he was beginning to feel his age.

That was until a familiar voice harshly threw him back to his wild, violent, and reckless youth. A voice he'd yet to forget after becoming so acquainted with its owner. Their history, albeit short, was memorable to say the least.

"Devan," he said through a shocked huff of a chuckle. "Holy shit. I, um, I'm surviving," he went on, his chest tightening with fear as his heart pounded. No one, not even Charlie, was aware the two men knew each other, let alone how. "Fuck man, I didn't know you were the new guy," he admitted almost to himself, shifting a bit nervously in his seat. "What are you...I mean, how...how have you been?" he finally asked, giving a quick glance around the still, thankfully, nearly empty diner.

⋙ WHEN? march 22nd, afternoon ⋙WHERE? rosie's diner ⋙WHO? @survivalxofxthexfittest

The atrium is still a disgusting mess, and while the smell is stomach turning — especially having sat overnight — it's nothing Devan isn't used to from out there. It smells not unlike the streets of New York City at this point in time, albeit a bit more potent due to the enclosed space the rot has collected in. Their nose scrunches some all on its own, but at least someone has scooped a way from the stairwell door to the diner. Although in the past years, Devan hasn't been here too often — always was a straight-to-business affair — he can say with full confidence, the place has gone to hell. But four walls is still four walls more than he's used to.

The diner seems to be in a marginally better state, in such a manner that one could suspect the clean had started here. Makes sense, of course, since it's where there were informed they could receive their rations, and eating when the chairs still squelched with leftover bat wouldn't stir anyone's appetites. He wants to say it would be the worst thing he's had to eat surrounded by, but unfortunately, that wouldn't even scratch the surface.

Devan is about to fully step into the diner when he pauses in his stride mid-step at the sound of a familiar voice; there's few people in this building with whom they have past rapport, the times they've visited but a handful, but that handful is a handful they'd gotten quite familiar with. His eyes move to the blond man seated several metres away from where he stands, and one of his eyebrows twitches up almost of its own accord. Of course, though, why wouldn't he be here?

Within seconds, Devan has crossed the diner to easily slide into the booth opposite John-Paul Rose, their fingers lacing together on the table in front of them as they watch him with what could only be described as an absolutely wicked grin. "Howya, grá?"

[khattikeri]

hey tumblr staff support whatever if there are people who LITERALLY have not used their blog in a decade can you deactivate them

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

[makeste]

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids​ for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

Okay. So. Approximately four (?) hours ago, I finished reading Gideon the Ninth. I am in a state of both emotional turmoil and complete blankness, and once that subsides I will make another post; however, right now I do have one clear thought. [Spoilers below.]

I looked at reviews of the book, and a lot of them said the same thing: "there's barely any worldbuilding" and/or "I couldn't tell what the fuck was happening." (I am paraphrasing.)

Here's the thing, though. That's what I loved about it. For those unfamiliar with Zelda: Breath of the Wild, it's a video game in which you basically have free reign to explore an entire map, with challenges and treasure chests and riddles at every turn. When I played that game, I got this sense of excitement and adrenaline at the fact that holy shit, I can go anywhere I want and there's so much to do, so much to piece together.

That's exactly how I felt with Gideon the Ninth. I barely had a clue as to what the fuck was going on in Canaan House until at least halfway through, because everything had to be pieced together by the characters (and also, Harrow was being a stubborn bitch and not relaying anything to gRiDdLe). The exploration of Canaan House was an enigma from start to finish. The gruesome oddity of the challenges in the facility, especially when Harrow first took Gideon down there, literally chilled me. I wanted so very, very badly to figure out what the hell was happening, and when I finally did at the end, it was the exact same feeling of finishing that fucking Zelda game.

So there's that. And then there's the matter of the worldbuilding. We didn't know who the hell the Emperor was until the epilogue. The different types of necromancy and their applications had to be divined via the observation of the reader and minimal explanation of the characters. We didn't know what a Lyctor truly was until almost the end, and that word was one of the main concepts of the book. And there are, of course, questions. Is the Empire within our galaxy? Why is it falling into ruins? Did Cytherea have anything else against the Emperor other than 'I've had to stay alive for like ten thousand years you bastard'? I don't know, and it is quite exhilarating. It has instilled me with the sheer horror of not knowing, and of being kept in the dark, and it's what kept me reading the entire time (along with Gideon's constant sex jokes, but that's for another time). When this idea crossed my mind: this is an empire that is falling apart and hardly any of its inhabitants even know, and I as the reader do not know why - it was just scary. Literally. Canaan House was scary and the idea of the crumbling Empire was scary and the bone construct in the facility was scary and Ianthe and Silas and motherfucking Cytherea were scary as hell. Terror, in the midst of that adrenaline at the feeling of exploration, made this maybe my favorite book I've ever read, for that sheer combination of feelings and for the most beautiful, unique, creative, mysterious, and fucking terrifying worldbuilding I have ever had the pleasure to witness.

So, yeah. I love this book because of its lack of explanation. It doesn't coddle the reader and explain every detail of its universe or its magic; it has to be deciphered and puzzled out by the reader, which makes every puzzle piece of revealed information even more delightful to find.

[verse50]

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths. 

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

 But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby  lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

��What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

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[sierraraeck]

Struck by Lightning

Derek x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you go out for a girls night. Unfortunately, he follows you to the club to try and win you back. To show him just how over him you are, you kiss the first stranger you see walking through the door. Luckily for you, that man is a sculpted god of chocolate thunder.

Category: Spicy fluff

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Age gap between adults (maybe like 10ish years) but I never actually mention it lol. Some cussing.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. This is also for @fortheloveofcriminalminds 600 follower celebration! The prompt “in the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so” is in bold!

“I finally did it,” you told your friend over the phone.

“You did!” she squealed. “You dumped Brody? I’m so proud of you!”

You laughed, “Thanks, Jess. God, I was just so tired of his bullshit. He never wanted to do anything but hang around his house with his friends, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” Jess responded very dramatically. “I’m so glad you’re done with him! This calls for celebration!”

“Oh god,” you mumbled, knowing exactly what that entailed. Jess was always a bit excited when it came to celebrating. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes! Girls night!” The high frequency of her voice nearly blew your eardrums out. “There’s this new bar and club downtown that I’ve been dying to check out. I’m going to call the girls!”

Without getting another word in, she hung up, leaving you no choice but to start getting ready for what you were sure would be a wild night.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Wild would not be the word you’d use to describe the night so far. Irritating would be more accurate.

Not even ten minutes after you’d arrived, Brody and his asshat friends showed up too. Of course, they couldn’t just keep their distance like any normal person who’d just been dumped would, maybe a normal person would even leave to go to a different club, but no. The first thing Brody did was approach you, sliding into the barstool next to you.

You could smell the alcohol and weed on his breath when he said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Go away, Brody,” you deadpanned. You’d finally gotten away from your immature, never-wants-to-do-anything boyfriend who never put you first, who now all the sudden that you’re gone, decides to start making an effort. And of course it had to be on the night that you were celebrating the single life again that he just had to show up.

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he said, reaching out to touch you.

You scooted out of reach of him, “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, baby, we used to have a lot of fun. Let me remind you of that,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

You put your hand in the way and pushed his face away from yours. “I would literally rather kiss anyone other than you,” you spat.

“You don’t mean that,” Brody tried to schmooze.

“Yes I do.”

“Oh really? Prove it,” he challenged.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s just go. He’s not worth it,” Jess told you, your two other friends at her sides.

But you were too competitive for that. Plus, this was your girls night out, at the club that Jess had been dying to see for ages now, and you weren’t going to let your stupid ex ruin that. So you accepted by saying, “I will. Next person who walks through that door.”

Brody shrugged, a smug smile on his face. “Fine. Let’s see it.”

You eyed the door as Jess leaned in and whispered, “In the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so.”

You rolled your eyes, still facing the door. Then you saw movement behind the glass, the door swinging open to reveal the person you’d fated yourself to kiss.

And holy shit. You don’t think you’ve ever been so lucky in your life. The honest to god hottest man you’d ever seen walked through the door. He was tall, broad shoulders accompanying his strong build, and when you saw him turn and smile at the rest of what you assumed were his friends walking through the door, you thought you might pass out. He had to have been sculpted by Zeus himself.

You were staring in shock, as if you’d been struck by lightning, almost forgetting you had a small wager on the line. Jess gave you a small nudge, springing your feet into action.

You couldn’t believe you were about to do this. But, you strutted up to the man still partially in the doorway with confidence like you’d never had before, the group of people facing your way tracking your movements. The man himself had barely enough time to turn around and register you walking toward him before you reached up behind his neck and pulled him just slightly down to you. You smashed your lips to his with a bit more force than you intended, and could feel the shock coming from everyone around you.

They weren’t the only ones to be surprised, though. In only a matter of seconds, without pulling back to ask any questions, he started kissing you back. It caught you a little off guard, to be honest, thinking you were just going to kiss him and awkwardly walk away. But he kissed you back. Like really kissed you back. His lips were soft and smooth, and before you could fully register it, your tongues were exploring each other’s mouths, pushing and pulling in a way you’d never felt before. One of his hands rested on your jaw and the other snaked around your back, spurring on your confidence enough to place your other hand on his very firm, and very muscular chest.

You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, but you felt like you had to pull back when one of his friends cleared their throat. You looked into his dark, cocoa eyes now that you could really admire his face close up, and he was looking at you with a mix of confusion and wonder.

You bit your lip and turned to quickly glance at the brunette who’d cleared her throat. She was pressing her lips together to suppress a smile, but wasn’t failing dreadfully at it.

You turned your attention back to the man in front of you, still looking at you in awe. Running on pure adrenaline and confidence, you slowly looked him up and down, then let out a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” you muttered to yourself, barely loud enough for him to hear it. You ran both your hands down his chest and flirtatiously continued, “Not bad at all.”

You easily slid out of his grasp and winked over your shoulder as you strutted away.

You heard the woman who’d cleared her throat say, “I know you’re Derek Morgan, and I know you’re a catch, but has that ever happened to you?”

You peered over your shoulder and saw him staring at you. Derek, you now knew his name to be, shook his head just slightly and mumbled, “Never.”

You quickly turned away, not wanting any of them to see your grin as you practically bounced back to your seat at the bar. Brody was nowhere to be found.

Jess was slack jawed, eyebrows almost lost in her hairline. You teased, “What was that you were saying about things going wrong? Something about telling me so or..?”

Jess pulled herself together and feigned annoyance, “Oh shut up. You know you got hella lucky.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “I know.”

“Seriously, Y/N, what the hell was that?”

You shook your head, feeling as in awe as the man you’d kissed only moments ago had looked. “I have no idea.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You eyed each other for the next hour or so, neither of you being too inconspicuous about. You’d been on the dance floor while him and his group were at a bar table. He finally approached you when you’d taken a break to get another drink.

He walked up to you and leaned against the side of the bar you’d just order from. He hadn’t said anything yet, so, without looking at him, you filled the airspace. “You know it’s considered rude.”

“Excuse me?” he questioned. It was the first time you’d really heard his voice, and it was a deep velvety sound you wanted to remember.

“It’s considered rude to stare,” you started, turning to face him, “Especially if you’re not going to buy the next drink.”

He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “Is that so?”

You simply nodded as the bartender brought you your drink. He had already fished out a twenty, holding it up between two of his fingers. He never took his eyes off you as the bartender took the cash and you sipped at the liquid in your glass.

“That’s a little better,” you teased.

You stood there leaning against the bar shamelessly looking each other over for another moment before he spoke up again, “I’m Derek Morgan.”

“I know,” you stated, flashing him a smile. He looked at you expectantly, but you weren’t about to give anything up.

He sighed a little, but gave you a small smile when he asked, “Well, if you won’t tell me your name, would you at least like to dance with me?”

You opened your mouth in fake surprise, “Ooh, so you’re a trade off kinda guy.”

He quickly backtracked, “No, that’s not-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “It’s okay, I like a little trade off. How about I dance with you, and if I’m any good, you put your number in my phone. If I’m not, I’ll tell you my name.”

He smirked, “Deal.”

Derek offered his hand and you gave him a small smirk as you took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

You both started rhythmically moving to the deafening beat, sharing glances and mimicking movements. The two of you owned the dance floor, people from all across the bar looking your way, but neither of you bothered to notice. You were way too caught up in each other, slowing moving closer and closer as you danced.

Being around him was electric, and each time your skin touched his it sent shock waves through your body, as if the man himself was made from lightning. You were becoming more and more convinced that he was handcrafted by the gods themselves.

You couldn’t remember how long you’d been on the dance floor, but when Derek dragged you off, it seemed like you could have wasted endless time in your own world out there. He was a great dancer, and you loved that he was more than willing to dance with you. Not enough men were interested in dancing like he seemed to be.

He pulled you off to the side in a low traffic, dark hallway. His whole figure seemed to glow despite the dim lighting, and the only real sound was your labored breathing above the muffled bass.

Derek’s eyes raked from your eyes down to your lips, so it was no surprise when his actions followed his gaze. His lips were on yours, and your back was in contact with the wall in a flash. He kissed you with more passion and vigour than the first time, completely dominating the kiss. You didn’t mind, wrapping your arms around his neck to get as close to him as you possibly could and then some. Your heart was racing as you tried to cling to the feeling, ignoring your lung’s cry for air.

Derek was the one who pulled away, but only to trail kisses down your neck, giving you enough time to catch your breath. “Hey, hey,” you whispered. He looked up at you with curious eyes, “Does this mean I won our little trade off?”

A hearty chuckle escaped his chest making your knees weak and he beamed at you as he answered, “I guess it does.”

You grabbed a wad of his shirt and pulled his lips to yours again, then released it to take his hand. You led him from the hallway and back to the bar where you’d left your phone, handing it to him. After he’d typed in his number, one of his friends from earlier, the same brunette, approached the two of you. Derek gave her a defeated look and she nodded her head. He sighed, an entire conversation you couldn’t follow happening in front of you. She shrugged and walked away.

When Derek’s attention was back on you, he said, “It looks like I have to go. But is there really nothing I can do to convince you to give me your name?”

You shook your head with a cheeky smile, “I guess you’ll just have to wait for a phone call.”

“You know,” he started with a joking tone, “I work for the FBI and could probably get your name if I wanted to.”

You laughed, “Is that where you’re off to?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered with dry humor.

“Interesting.” He gave you a look but you shrugged. “Makes sense, though, I’d pegged you as more of a SWAT guy.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but join him.

“Morgan, let’s go!” a blonde this time yelled to him.

He rolled his eyes, completely ignoring her and said, “I hope I hear from you soon.”

“Hang in there, Agent Derek Morgan,” you teased.

He flashed you that award-winning smile before turning to leave. You watched him all the way out the door, and once he got there, turned back to look at you. He smiled to himself again and left, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

Something about the energy in the room changed when he was gone, like all the electricity had followed him out. You were sure, then, that he wasn’t just created by Zeus, but had to have been Zeus himself. And you couldn’t wait to be struck by the lightning of his presence again.

Taglist

@90spumkin

[weaselle]

WHY is is SO hard for adult humans to just leave animals alone!?

Just saw a clip of someone trying to get some pics with some feral pigs, and if that isn’t the height of stupid idk what is. Like, these pigs were 100 to 400 hundred pounds each, no fences, no fear of humans, and there were like ten of them. And believe me when I say, if that warning nip had broken skin or knocked her down, being literally eaten alive could easily have been the last thing that happened to her. Like who the fuck sees a bunch of large animals whose most famous attribute is their ravenous hunger and willingness to eat literally anything on the planet, and decides to go stand in the middle of a crowd of them? FARM pigs eat the farmers experienced in dealing with them semi-regularly -- a woman in Russia was killed by her pigs in 2019, and a farmer in Oregon was almost completely devoured by his pigs in 2012. smh

I’m a dog walker, and I have to stop people doing stupid shit with the dogs all the time. Like people will literally try to walk right through my pack of eight dogs. Last week I was loading the dogs back into the van after the walk and I turned around just in time to see a guy in the car next to me had rolled down his window and was reaching out to pet one of the dogs on the head while my back was turned.

That dog weighs 80 pounds and spent his first 4 years of life as a street dog in LA, and he hates strangers touching his head. Which I think is totally reasonable. But he’s got fluffy hair like a poodle and people (usually white men, our society is really failing white men in a way that makes them a danger to themselves and others, I’m telling you) will just suddenly step forward and reach for his face with no warning.

I’ve got another dog I walk that people will sometimes try to brush past or godsforbid pet, let’s call her Jenny. Jenny is a good dog, but she wants everyone in the world to leave her the fuck alone. She really really hates being touched at all. By anyone. I walk her 3 times a week and we have an understanding: she’s super well behaved on our walks, and I very carefully get her leash on and off without so much as accidentally brushing a finger against her ear (which I’ve done, it’s not a good time). I think her owner can touch the dog, but she got married four years ago and Jenny still growls at her husband to demand he leave her alone.

The first thing she does when accidentally touched is scream like she’s being murdered and flinch away, she’s not really a danger in public, but a big part of her not being a danger in public is she’s always on a leash and under my control, keeping her out of physical contact with people. She doesn’t bark or growl at people or other dogs that pass by us or anything. You can stand an inch away from her and it’s fine as long as you leave her alone. But what am I supposed to do when somebody just walks right up and tries to put their hands on her!? Especially if I’m like, bent down picking up poop with one hand and holding onto an entire pack of dogs with the other.

If you touch her without permission she could easily decide to bite the shit out of you and I can’t say I’d blame her. As far as I’m concerned touching without permission is a bite-able offense. Right? But also, that kind of thing can get a dog taken away and killed by the authorities, so reaching for her face without asking is not only risking your hand, but it’s also risking my job and her whole life. Just don’t!

Like, for the love of all that’s holy just leave animals alone! Why is this such a hard concept? If you love dogs, go hang out with a dog you already know, or at least ask the person in control of the dog if they can be pet before you go shoving your hand at their pointiest parts.

And forget about touching or being near wild animals, no, literally forget about them, think about something else. 

[rosysugarr]

oh my fucking god I just had the WEIRDEST experience??

OKAY SO. SOME BACKSTORY. Many years ago, a friend and I ran a channel where we translated and subtitled creepy, obscure Vocaloid stuff. (And Vocaloid-adjacent-- we did a couple of Watashinokoko songs.) We only posted, like, 10 or so videos before my friend was like "listen I'm too anxious for this shit," so we dropped the channel but left it up for folks to watch, since a few songs we'd translated together were so obscure that we were literally the only people on youtube who'd ever translated them.

Fast forward to fucking... almost a decade later, just now. I've been watching a channel where this guy reacts to creepy Vocaloid shit and other spooky stuff on youtube for months now, and I was just going back to see what I'd missed, since it's been a while. And then I see it: in one of the fucking thumbnails, there is the thumbnail I fucking made for one of OUR VIDEOS. He reacted to the translation my friend and I made, years and years ago! I fucking put those subtitles on that video myself! That's my channel's icon on the screen in his video!!

He's not, like... super famous or anything, but it's still fucking WILD to see somebody who gets tens of thousands of views reacting to a video I subtitled by hand in a free video editor program like a decade ago. Like. Holy shit, LMFAO. That was a fucking shock.

(Here is the reaction video, by the way, if you wanna see it! Warning though, the "song" is... loud, and extremely creepy.)

[holylulusworld]

Bad Girl

Summary: Being a bad girl is great until someone tries to stop you.

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Criminal!Reader

Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Baner, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: language, the reader is a brat, fighting, snarky comments, biting, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, tension, light choking, enemies to lovers

A/N: Not endgame compliant. Steve is still Nomad!Steve.

A/N2: Dividers by @writeyourmindaway​

Words: 2,1k

Being a bad girl is great. - Being the bad girl and get away with your crimes even better. Since the snap, you managed to become one of the best thieves in town, maybe even the state of New York.

It’s not as if you steal to become rich or famous – well, you enjoy the attention, even love they call you Black Cat as you are fast, sly, and steal in the dead of the night.

Your reason to become a thief was that you didn’t have a choice. One day you had a job, a boyfriend, and the next you lost your job as the snap happened. Your boyfriend ran for the hills and before you could blink your landlord kicked you out of your home.

It’s started with little things. You stole a sandwich to not starve or a bottle of water. Later you gathered more courage and stole a jacket to not freeze.

Time went on and after a year you found a nice hideout, had enough money, and wanted to stop stealing. You went on a job interview only to meet the most awful man in town. He kicked a homeless man, spit into the coffee the man was holding, and snorted as you gave the man ten bucks.

After your encounter, you replayed the job interview, the way he treated the homeless man, and how his secretary stood far away from his desk to not feel his hand at her ass all the time.

That night you decided to teach him a lesson – and you did. When you broke into his penthouse, wearing a black catsuit and a mask he peed his pants, begging for his life. 

You didn’t kill or hurt him, but you forced him to help the homeless man, to stop touching his secretary, and to never even think of treating anyone bad.

After that – every person treating someone badly fell victim to the criminal called “Black Cat”.

People cheered for you, just like some websites but, like with everything else in life, your secret came with a price or rather with the danger of getting caught by the Avengers.

For weeks you have to hide. Somehow Captain fucking America managed to almost catch you during your last heists. It didn’t matter to him you stole the money to help an orphanage. 

Playing Robin Hood in times after the blip is not an easy job…

“Tonight, I’ll get her,” Steve states, running one hand down his face. “It’s a matter of hours.” Since he lost against Thanos Steve is obsessed about catching all criminals in town. Sadly, he’s after you now.

“Don’t you think we should take care of more important criminals? The girl helps other people.” Natasha sighs, somehow, she likes your style. “Seriously, Steve…”

“No, Natasha. If we let her get away with her crimes she’ll never learn. That woman can’t expect us to not go after her.” Deadpanning Natasha snickers.

“Just admit you like her! I bet your last encounter left you wanting for more…” Tony smirks, overgoing his calculations again. “Maybe we can hire her? We could use two more hands if we want to undo the blip.”

“She’s a criminal, Tony!”

“Oh-weren’t you one not too long ago too?” Eyebrows raised Tony looks up at Steve for a moment. “I guess I didn’t get the memo saying you didn’t commit several crimes over the last years to save your friend.”

“Tony, not again.” Natasha groans. “We’ve got more important things going on. Like Steve in need of getting laid.”

“Nat!” Steve looks flustered when he reaches for his shield. “I’ll arrest her tonight. That cat will never nip at other people’s catnip again.”

Tony bursts into laughter at Steve’s words. “Capsicle, marry that girl. She makes a human being out of you, not just a super-soldier.”

“Tony! She’s…Why is everyone on her side? She steals and breaks into people’s homes…” 

“To give it to the people needing it more, Steve. Black Cat doesn’t steal from good people, only from awful ones. She teaches them a lesson and helps people. Give the girl a break and lend us a hand.”

Bruce looks at Steve but he’s stern about arresting you. “Fine, arrest a good person…”

“Steve, just leave her be. If she does something bad, we can catch her…” Steve leaves the room, not listening to his friends. Tonight is the night. He will finally trap you.

“Look at this.” Smirking Steve circles you like prey. “A cat in a trap…” While you try to open the door Captain America himself steps closer. “You can’t open the door, doll. It’s not possible without the key card.”

“Great. Why does Captain America go after me, not people kidnapping and selling girls? Did you look out there once in a while? Human trafficking seems to be the newest trend.” Stepping backward you fumble in the dark to find another exit.

“Stay still and follow me, Black Cat. I will not hurt you if you cooperate.” Steve steps closer, almost purring the words into your direction. 

You have to admire he tries to convince you without violence, but you are not into the mood to get arrested.

“What do you think will happen to me if you hand me over to the cops? This world, it’s rotten since Thanos snapped his fingers. There are fewer good people out there and it gets worse every day.”

“Come here, cat…” He’s holding out his hand, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ll not hurt you…” Captain America steps carefully closer as if he wants to calm a frightened animal. “Relax…”

“Screw you Captain Crap…” Snickering you dash forward to tackle the super-soldier. Just when you run into a solid brick wall you realize your mistake.

“I’ll…fuck…” Shoving against his chest you groan as the fucker won’t budge. “What the heck? Are you made of steel?”

“Give up before you hurt yourself, kitten.” His voice is lower now, his eyes darker. “Let me bring you to the place you belong to.”

“You can bring your ass somewhere but not me! Who will help the people out there? You and your commando of losers? You had him, asshole! Why the fuck did Thor not decapitate his fucking head?” 

Angrily punching Steve’s chest, you fight against an undefeatable enemy. “I lost everything as you failed! I rooted for you; told everyone you’ll defeat him…”

“Calm down, kitten.” Purring the words Steve tries to grasp for you. “Jesus, you are one crazy girl…” When you jump at Steve to bite his neck, he tries to drag you off him. “Girl…what the…ouch…hey!”

“If I can’t defeat you, I’ll bite and scratch you! Now let me go…!” Steve grabs your ass to make you stop but a low moan leaves your lips and your eyes meet. “Did you just grab my ass, Captain Pervert?”

“Be good, Black Cat and I’ll not hurt you.” Humming you glance at Steve’s lips, licking your own lazily. “Natasha said I’ll shall let you go.”

“Then let me go! Now!” His hands kneed your ass and before your brain can stop you, your lips crush onto Steve’s. It’s wild, all tongue and teeth but you moan into his mouth. “Fucking asshole.”

“I guess,” Breathless Steve pins you to the wall. “I’ll have to punish you for being a bad girl, kitten.” He purrs against your lips before he rips your mask off your face. “Now be good and take your punishment.”

“Dream on, Captain useless. How about you let me go or do something useful with your hands for once.” His dropping you to your feet, a dark look on his features when he grasps for your catsuit to rip it open. “What the…”

“Silence, kitten. I wanted to go easy on you but now, you’ll feel my wrath!” He manhandles you to bend you over the nearby couch, “Be good…” You shriek and mutter when Steve drags the remnants of your suit down your body. “No underwear?”

“You can try to wear panties underneath that fucking tight suit, Captain grabby hands. Now let me…fuck…” Two skilled fingers toy with your bundle of nerves and you bite your lip to muffle the sounds.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Wet like the dirty and bad girl you are. Now be silent and take your punishment like a good girl.” You can hear the clinking of his belt, then the zipper comes down and before you can give him a snarky comment, his cock slaps against your ass.

“Holy fucking…oh—shit. That’s…” Without warning, Steve starts to press into you, a smug grin on his lips as you wiggle your ass. “Am I a patriot now for taking your cock so well?”

Breathlessly you feel your walls getting stretched beyond anything you felt before. “So tight for me, so good…”

“Good…no…fuck…” Biting your wrist you muffle your cries when Steve bottoms out. He’s panting heavily, fighting the urge to just take you like the bad girl you are. “That’s a huge dick, Captain. I kinda like you more now…”

Smirking Steve wraps his arms around your body to bring you against this body.

“Be my good kitten tonight and you can have some catnip later.” Steve purrs into your ear and you smirk when he wraps one hand around your throat.

“Fuck me, Captain, I love your dick. You may be an ass, but your dick will give me a grand time. Now…get started…” Steve slides his tongue over your cheek, moaning as you clench tightly around him.

“Such a playful little kitten I caught in the act.” The first thrust makes you cry out at the sheer force he uses. “Why did your higher senses not recognize me sooner, kitty cat?”

“I…god, Steve…” Your nails bite into the hand around your throat when he gives you a hard thrust letting your cunt contract in pleasured pain. “You’re such a sore loser…”

“I did not lose, doll…” Moans leave your lips, along with curses when Steve finds a rhythm taking your breath away.

“Look at you, kitten. At my mercy, stuffed with my cock. I bet all your little criminal friends would be disappointed watching you getting fucked by Captain America…”

Your toes curl with every harsh word leaving Steve’s lips. “I…I don’t have any friends…” Your left-hand grasps blindly for his hips to fist his pants. “Oh-fuck. I’m gonna cum…”

“No,” Breathing against your ear Steve smirks darkly. “You won’t, doll face.” 

“Please…no…I need to cum…please…Stevie.” Begging shamelessly as the coil tightens you try anything to get back into Steve’s good graces. “Fine, please, Captain. Let me cum.”

“You can do better, Black Cat.” The hand around your throat squeezes you tightly while his other hand slips between your legs to flick your clit. “Be good, tell me what I want to hear.”

“I…I…hate you…but…” Whining you choke on your words when he squeezes your throat tighter. “S…Steve, please. I’ll be good…”

“…and?” His hips slam into your ass, pushing you closer to the edge. Every thrust hits your sweet spot and you are close, so painfully close to your high that you blur out what he wants to hear.

“I will follow you from now on. Now let me fucking cum!” Smirk on his lips Steve hums before he let go of your throat to fist your hair. His thrusts speed up and you whimper, embarrassed at the amount of slick running down your thighs.

“Cum for me, doll…” The damn breaks. Shuddering you let your high rush through your veins, making your body slump onto the couch. “Good girl, so good for me…”

“I still hate you…” Mumbling insults your feel Steve fill you up. “You made a mess again…”

“You love it, Y/N.” Steve runs his hands over your back, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin. “I want you to pack your things and follow me tonight. The world is a dangerous place and you will stop playing the heroine. Let us help you.”

“Can you just let me enjoy the afterglow and lecture me later, Cappy? I am tired, worn out and I could have a nap right now.”

“You know, I could’ve arrested you eight months ago,” Steve smirks when you look over your shoulder. “I just thought you look better in my bed than a cell.”

A smirk on your lips you nod silently before your eyes betray you. “Dream on, Captain. I let you capture me. You would still run around in circles to get me if I wasn’t interested in your ass…”

“One day, I’ll arrest you for good…”

“I am bad, baby. Get used to it…”

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[copperbadge]

I’ve reached the point in the Ozyverse where I’m starting to see the larger shape of things; at least for the next few chapters I know the highlights, but there’s always boring (to write) filler scenes that have to be done between them. I haven’t quite finished all the filler scenes on the way to this one but I always say write the stuff you want to write first; that way you’re not hustling through the rest of it. 

Ever since thinking about introducing elements of CC into the story, I’ve been working out how to include Fourteen Back and Bowman Jenkins, Nature’s Favorite Gardener. What I ended up doing is slamming together Fourteen Back and Twelve Grimmauld Place; Fourteen Back is now a servants’ house behind Twelve Grimmauld Place (now known as Fourteen); Back now faces out not onto a real alley but onto Diagon Alley, and it will be the new, improved Court location of Sandust Books (eventually replaced by Tonks & Tonks). 

Which made introducing Bowman even more fun....

"Might as well go see what kind of state Fourteen is in. Probably looks like a real haunted h -- " Sirius stopped in the open doorway, gazing out on the coachyard that Fourteen had shared with its servant quarters.

When he'd lived here, as a child, it was usually just a bare yard; off to one corner there'd been a little vegetable garden to serve the kitchen, and there'd been a row of trees on either side to provide privacy, but that was all. That had been almost fifteen years ago; ten at least since his parents died and the place was emptied of the last few servants ("Give them a good pension and don't bring up Fourteen to me ever again," Sirius had told the lawyer). He'd assumed it would be wild growth and weeds.

Instead, he was looking out on a warm, verdant green lawn, lined with hedges where the trees had been and rose bushes in front of the hedges. New trees had been planted at intervals, and he could see they were heavy with fruit -- apples, plums, lemons. Two trees with what looked like mangos on them stood on either side of the back door of Fourteen Back; the building itself was ringed with beds of wildflowers. The lawn narrowed to a single walkway about fifteen feet away, and on either side of the walk were massive beds full of vegetables -- beans and lettuce, onions, all kinds of herbs running rampant -- 

He stepped out into the tiny Eden, staring around him. Harry ran out past him, immediately heading for a tree to climb. Remus joined him on the lawn, perplexed. 

"Was it some kind of charm?" he asked. "I know I never saw the place when you lived here, but -- "

"No. None of this was here. Look," Sirius said, pointing past the vegetables. The garden beds stopped about ten feet from the back door of Fourteen, and the grass withered to brown there -- the malevolence of the house was obvious. "My parents didn't do this. Who -- "

"Hey! You!" someone shouted, and a door burst open in the fence, between two trees where the hedge had been pruned away. The door had never been there before, Sirius thought, or at least he didn't remember it. Someone was barreling through from the yard next door, brandishing a shovel. "Get out of here, you lollygaggers! Trespassers!"

The man was definitely Court; he had a full beard and side-whiskers, and he was summoning some kind of fireball with his free hand. Sirius turned, threw both his hands down at his sides, and let lightning crackle off them. He could hear, behind him, Remus taking up a position in front of Harry's tree. The man drew up short when nobody ran.

"Tough to trespass on land you own," Sirius snarled. "Who the fuck are you?" 

The man blinked at him, then closed his fist, the fire there winking out. He dropped his shovel and pointed, then burst out laughing. Sirius, now as perplexed as anyone, dissipated the lightning into little crackles along his fingertips.

"Sirius Black!" the man crowed, clapping his hands together. "As I breathe. Look at you, all grown up." 

Remus joined Sirius again, Harry held on his hip but leaning curiously away to study this newcomer. 

"You don't remember me. Well, I grew the beard. It's Bowman. I live next door," the man said, jerking his thumb at the door in the wall. "You used to steal my mangos when you were a tyke." 

Sirius had a brief sense-memory of scaling the fence as a child, climbing the mango trees there and sitting in one after dark on warm summer nights...

"Holy shit, Bowman Jenkins," he managed, coming forward to shake the man's hand. "You're right, it was the beard. How are you?"

"Well, I'm well. Sorry to burst in but occasionally some young punk comes in here to steal my apples or get drunk on the lawn."

"Your apples, eh?" Sirius asked. "Did you do this?"

"Well, I always was a gardener and it didn't seem right, this whole place standing empty so long. I could see it from our bedroom window and I won't lie, it gnawed at me. I tried to ask about buying up the plot at least, but I never heard back. Finally I said to myself, well, if whoever owns it now is mad about the free landscaping he can sue me. Cut a gate in the wall and started fertilizing." He looked around himself. "Cheered the place up, I think."

"It's beautiful, Mr. Jenkins," Remus said, setting Harry down to run back to his tree. 

"Thank you."

"Ah! Bowman Jenkins, Remus Lupin."

"Pleased to meet you," Remus said. "I believe I've heard a few stories about your fruit trees, over the years."

Bowman grinned. 

"Anyway, he's here to help me take a look around the old place," Sirius continued. "I'm taking possession of Fourteen Back."

"Are you? That's great. Moving back to Court, huh?"

"Not entirely. I own a little bookstore, and we needed a new storefront. Remus runs the store," Sirius said. 

"And...?" Bowman jerked a thumb at Fourteen, glaring down at them. Sirius looked up at it.

"Haven't decided," he said finally. "Considering arson."

"Well, mind the vegetables if you do, I guess," Bowman said unconcernedly. He'd known Sirius's parents; Sirius didn't get the sense he'd liked them. They weren't terribly likeable, and he knew they'd thought of Bowman as <i>new money</i>. "Oh, damn. Do you want the yard too? I can clear out anything you don't want, but -- "

"Hell, I don't care," Sirius said. "I'd sell it to you if I could, but it's entailed. If I can wrench it free, the place is yours. As long as you don't mind a couple of mangos stolen here and there."

"Not at all," Bowman said, eyes drifting past them to where Harry was unconcernedly wrenching a mango free from a branch. 

"Ah. That's my boy, Harry," Sirius said. Bowman gave him a thoughtful look.

"Harry Potter?" he asked. Sirius laid a finger aside his nose. "Ah. Bless. I'd like to meet him. Maybe not today," he added. "But you're welcome to come through the gate any time you like. My wife always has something baking and she made more jam than she knows what to do with, this year." 

"We'll take you up on that. Good to see you again," Sirius said.

"Likewise. Hope to see more of you. Well, back to my own acres for me. Good luck," he added, as he crossed back to the rough door cut into the fence. It shut behind him gently, and Sirius dropped into the grass, laughing. 

"That gutsy land grabber," he grinned, as Remus sat next to him. "What a pair on him. Just came right through the fence and planted zucchini. I love gardeners." 

"You have to admit it's the nicest surprise this old place ever dished out," Remus said. 

"It's wonderful. You can barely see Fourteen past the runner beans." Sirius stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the smell of the grass. "Feels like a good omen for Sandust."

"I suppose so. He must have put some weather charms on the whole yard, to be able to grow mangos in London. Oh, Harry," Remus said, as Harry came running up to them. He'd skinned his knee coming down from his perch and, while not crying, clearly wanted to be fussed over. Sirius sat up and gathered him close, murmuring a healing charm over the scrape.

[satoruvt]

the color of you - white (5)

ik keigo’s like a hero n he has his hero costume on all the time but for this chapter (for no particular reason) imagine him in light jeans and a black t-shirt ok thank u i hope thinking of that makes u as happy as it does me

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 2368

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → converse high by bts, somebody loves you by jeremy zucker, and some of can’t we just leave this monster alive? by tomorrow x together

this chapter → compromising positions, a flour war, a Moment, y/n realizes some things and keigo’s a little shit

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

The sun has never been your friend in the mornings, and you’re reminded of that fact every single time you wake up. For someone who doesn’t like getting blinded first thing in the morning, you sure were bold to put your bed right next to the window, knowing full well the first few hours of sunlight shone directly onto your pillows.

Your brain wakes up before your body does, a few lingering thoughts from your dream swimming in your head in fragmented colors and sentences, and once you’re more coherent you open your eyes, flutter at the sunlight - wait, this isn’t your bed.

There’s sun nearby, sure, but the window’s too distant. Your vision’s a little blurry from sleep but you think you know your colors pretty well and these sheets do not match the ones you picked out from Target, like, two years ago. And then you remember, oh, awards ceremony. Hotel. Suite. Okay.

You move to stretch, manage to get your arms above your head, but even when you move the arm around your waist stays put. For a second you think holy shit, I’m paralyzed, but then you realize that you don’t have three arms. And then you realize that the arm around your waist belongs to Keigo, who’s still in your bed.

For the first time this morning your brain catches up on time with the sudden thought of “he’s not your actual boyfriend, what is this” but when you turn your head to wake up him with a flick on his forehead you stop. 

You’re a fan of him. It’s not hard for you to admit - it’s just an add-on, at this point, because Keigo is definitely more of a friend than an idol to you. You’re a fan, no less, you’ve dabbled in buying cute keychains and pens stylized with colors that he wore often. That’s why, you reason with yourself, you’re suddenly very aware of how gorgeous he is.

The sunlight isn’t on either of you, but it casts a gentle, warm glow into the hotel room through the break in the curtains and it dresses Keigo beautifully, subtly. Makes his skin look sunkissed and golden. His hair’s a mess, wild and sticking in every direction, but somehow it’s fitting for him. You can’t stop your eyes from tracing over his face, taking in his proportions and then dropping to his lips, and you keep your eyes trained on him as you turn so you’re on your side, facing him. You think about it for a moment, stopping your already-raising hand, then tell yourself that in the times he’s fallen asleep while you two were hanging out, he’s never woken up, so he won’t now. 

You get one push of your fingers through his hair - as soft as you can - and when you refocus on Keigo’s face he is definitely awake. You freeze, absolutely mortified, while he only raises an eyebrow at you. He doesn’t move his arm from around your waist.

“Morning, sunshine,” and oh God, that’s what his morning voice sounds like? “Is this your way of telling me you’re actually into me?”

Heat flushes to your cheeks and you take your hand away, laughing nervously and way too loud for the morning. You try to think of anything to say that’s better than “sorry, I couldn’t help myself, you just looked so good” but nothing comes to mind and you stay looking down as best you can.

“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” Keigo says, and you realize you said it out loud, God fucking - “Hmm, I don’t know. Sounds like you’re harboring secret feelings for me, sweetheart.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile and roll your eyes playfully, shoving Keigo away from you as he barks out a laugh. “Get out of my room, you’re not allowed in here anymore.”

Keigo doesn’t give his usual protests outside of a smothered “nooo” into the pillows after you get out of bed - how cute, you think to yourself - and gather your toiletries and clothes so you can shower. You yell an “out!” for good measure before you shut the bathroom door, waiting for a moment until you hear the door to his room shut.

Your shower is quick, making use of the high-end hotel body wash, and you half expect Keigo to still be in the bed when you walk out of the bathroom. You dry your hair with a towel and your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You unlock it to see a text.

keigo baby 🐦

Can i come back yet i miss you

You snort at his text, send back a “get in here, bird boy” but then realize it’s almost nine thirty and you need to get to the bakery. Keigo walks in and you rush to find your usual sneakers. When you finally look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying your shoes, he’s got an eyebrow raised.

“In a rush?” He asks, and you send him a playful glare, but you’re already too late to think about banter.

“Yeah, I gotta get to the bakery,” you tell him, finalizing the knot on your shoe. You only brought a small bag with your things, and it doesn’t take long for you to gather them up. You take a quick glance around the room to make sure nothing’s forgotten, finding nothing that looks like it’s yours.

(Your eyes land on your dress from the night before, and you aim a look at Keigo that says “what should I do with that” and he tells you he’ll take care of it.)

“Okay,” you breathe, looking at Keigo. You feel the urge to kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ve got nothing to do until, like, noon. Do you mind if I see you to the bakery?”

You murmur an “of course not” with a smile and the two of you are off.

It’s a short trip - you take the subway to a station that’s only a few blocks from the bakery and walk the rest of the way. At one point Keigo slips his hand into yours, intertwines your fingers, and despite this now being a whole two-month (or something) endeavor it makes you choke just a little bit at how casual he is about it.

“Text me if you need anything,” you tell Keigo when the two of you reach the bakery, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to call my fake baker girlfriend when I’m in a pinch with a villain,” he says, and you pout at him, pushing on his shoulder. He laughs, kisses you, murmurs “I’ll see you later” against your lips before leaving with a wink and a gust into the sky.

You open the door to the bakery and it’s only when you finally get to working fifteen minutes later that you’re sure you hadn’t seen any paparazzi around.

-

Keigo comes back about ten minutes after closing, when you’re in the dining area and setting chairs on top of tables. You’d given the employees working today the go-ahead to leave, since the last hour of business consisted of a couple coming in to ask for directions. The bell above the door rings and you turn your head, meeting Keigo’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, mock surprise in your voice as you fold your arms over your chest and walk closer to him. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, I’ve been craving your signature donuts for a while now,” Keigo replies, sending you a playful grin. “Think you could whip some up for me? I’ll even pay extra.”

“Sorry, hero, but we’re already closed.”

Keigo gapes at you and you snort before walking behind the counter to take the food out of the display case. “Come on, not even for your favorite hero? Your idol? Your boyfriend?”

You pretend to think about it for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. “Hmm, I suppose I could make a quick batch…” you stare directly at him, point at him assertively. “But you’re helping.”

Keigo seems less than excited to do so, shoulders deflating at your words, but he walks behind the counter and into the kitchen after you without a complaint. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be wasting ingredients like this, but at the same time business has been really booming - you can afford to buy more. 

It’s fun, baking with Keigo. Even if he’s not keen on working and you definitely don’t trust him to measure liquids, he seems… eager to please. You tell him to mix and he does, to crack an egg and he does. The entire time he’s making jokes (some of them… really poor, painful dad jokes) and there’s a warmth in your heart.

Keigo pours out flour into a sifter over the large mixing bowl you have set up, but instead of batting the sifter against his hand like a normal person, he holds it like a pan and he’s sauteing something. You frown, taking the sifter from his hand (as gently as you can without spilling). “You’re doing it wrong,” you say.

“What, there’s a right way to…” Keigo pauses, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Sift?”

“Yeah, that - there’s a right way to sift something? Does it really matter?”

“...no,” you start, then furrow your brows. “But it’ll make a mess.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna have to clean up when we’re done anyways.”

An idea crosses your mind and you know, whole-heartedly, that it is probably your worst idea of the day for multiple reasons. But the knowledge of its consequences still doesn’t stop you from reaching into the sifter, grabbing a little less than a handful of flour, and spritzing it on Keigo’s chest.

“You’re just gonna take a shower when you get home, right?” You say, innocent as can be. You take another not-handful and rub it on his shirt. “A mess doesn’t matter.”

You look up at Keigo and his gaze says something like “this shirt was ten thousand yen” before he grabs his own handful of flour - not from the bowl or the sifter, but rather from the twenty-pound bag you opened specifically for him. He throws it at you and it lands in a puff in your hair, dusting you in white.

An unspoken agreement is passed between the two of you when you meet his gaze again - this is war.

In three seconds flat both of you are grabbing anything you can - flour, sugar, anything - and using them as weapons, throwing them in the general direction of the other. It’s gonna be a pain getting it out of your clothes, but you find you don’t really care. Milk is thrown from a measuring cup over your shoulder, lands on the floor with a splash mixed with your alarmed yelp. A single egg yolk hits Keigo in the chest, breaking like a water balloon on impact. Music you barely remember starting before the two of you got to baking plays like a soundtrack in a movie.

The Baking War of 2020 is short, though, and soon enough you both are panting and laughing as you stand in the kitchen covered in baking supplies. “Truce?” you pitch, wiping what you think is baking powder off of your eyelashes.

“Hold on,” Keigo says. He grabs an egg from the open carton on the counter, steps so the two of you are almost chest-to-chest. Your smile fades because oh, he’s really close, what is he doing?

He cracks the egg over your head. That’s what he’s doing.

You close your eyes, sigh, try to forget about your momentary panic as you feel the egg coat your hair. The yolk breaks somewhere between the top of your head and your eyebrow and you close one eye in hopes it won’t drip into it. “Truce,” Keigo grins.

“I hope you know that you helped waste my ingredients and you didn’t even get your donuts,” you mumble, pouting up at him. Keigo’s grin grows fond as he shrugs, uses his thumb to rub most of the yolk off of your forehead. You find yourself wishing that someone with a camera was around so you have an excuse to kiss him. 

“I’m rich, I can buy you more,” he says, and you really cannot stop looking at his lips.

It’s like last night - a part of you wants to shrug your heart pounding off as Keigo just looking good in all black and expensive rings, because anyone could tell he was easily the most beautiful person at the ceremony, but your heart is pounding just as hard - if not harder - right now and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It startles you, makes nervous butterflies erupt in your chest and stomach and blood rush to your cheeks, because you’re pretty sure this is -

Keigo’s phone rings and it makes both of you jump; you end up a solid three feet away from where you were before. It’s really hot in here, is it hot? It’s definitely hot. You need to turn off the heater.

“Shit,” Keigo curses to himself, and when you look at him he’s doing his best to brush off flour and sugar from his clothes with a rag. “There’s a villain downtown. I gotta go.”

You nod immediately, understanding, but you don’t trust your voice to speak that much. You swallow - gulp, really - and hope he doesn’t notice how jumpy you are. “Be safe,” you say, and cringe at how small your voice sounds.

“I’ll text you later,” is all Keigo tells you before he’s leaving through the back door of the bakery. You hear his wings as he takes off.

You don’t move for a moment, instead choosing to slump against the counter. Usually when you started liking someone, it was gradual, it wasn’t surprising or - or like this, you knew and it was fine, regardless of outcome. This didn’t happen to you. 

You sigh, close your eyes and try not to freak out too much about the very sudden and very scary realization that you like Keigo.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it