#they NEVER let me take LESSONS for ANYTHING i had to teach MYSELF every goddamn thing i know

[wwwyzzerdd420]

Couldn't be me

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Just read some great Toji stuff and got a little inspired to type some stuff out.

C/W ::: Mmmehhhh, drinking (beer), brief violence, homemade porn, oral M->F, I think that's it. If I missed anything and you just can't, tell me and I'll fix it.

WC ::: Just over 1,700

Toji had been pissing you off and pushing you to your near breaking point for weeks now. He was the most demanding man you had ever had the displeasure of knowing.

But you two didn't just know each other. You moved in with him about 4 months ago. He was so sweet and thoughtful. And he fucked you so good every night, every morning, whenever you wanted. Never asking for anything in return. The two of you would often go out to dinner and he'd always grab the bill before you had a chance to blink at it. Sometimes he'd bring you a little something he saw that made you pop into his mind. Just a little, thoughtful gift.

But these last few weeks, you've done all you can not to kill the man you've grown to love.

"Babe!"

"I'm right here, Toj'. You don't have to scream." You said, obviously annoyed.

"Yeah, I know you're right there. Grab me a beer, huh?" He couldn't even be bothered to turn and look at you while he was speaking. What you wanted to do was grab two beers. Keep one for yourself to calm your nerves after you'd thrown the other one at his head and had to answer questions from the police while they nodded their heads sympathetically to you giving them a recounted play by play of how you murdered your lazy ass boyfriend with a can of unopened beer.

"Sure. Let me just finish scrubbing the sink out, swiffering the floor, wiping down the counters and cupboards, cleaning out the fridge and taking out the gar-"

"Fuuuckkk, woman. Quit your bitchin'. I'll get the goddamn beer myself. Wouldn't want ya to get that pretty little head of yours overwhelmed. Now would we?" He got up from his favorite chair in the living room and you could tell that he was already well on his way to being drunk.

You didn't move from your spot on the way to the fridge. Toji simply picked you up and turned your body to where he was standing, essentially switching places with you.

"I KNOW you're not going to walk on my drying floor. Tojiiii," you whined. "What the fuck, man? I finished that like 5 minutes ago. Why are you walking on it with your big ol' dirty feet?" He shrugged his broad shoulders and kicked back a smile that still made you weak in the knees and sticky between the legs.

"Dun'no. Maybe I'm trying to piss you off, baby cakes." He stood right in front of you and bent over so his lips were centimeters from yours. His curious green eyes staring you down, knowing full well you were softening under his gaze. "Baby. Don' be too mad at me." He pouted, bottom lip brushing softly against yours. "I can't help it. I'm not the most conscientious tool in the shed."

You laughed, "Did you just call yourself a tool? Because I second that no- AH! Fuck, Toj- Toji!" He bent over and hoisted you up over his right shoulder, not spilling a drop of his beer. "Put me down. I'm not playing right now."

His right hand came down hard on your ass cheek and it made you yelp out in pain. You were only wearing an old t-shirt of his and a pair of panties. And he often didn't hold back when he was 'disciplining' you. You brought your left hand up and around to try and rub the sting away.

"Uh-uh, sweets. You remember that the next time you want to get all high and mighty with me in my own house. Fuckin' talk to me like that. Teach you a lesson. You smart ass … little shit."

Toji carried you down the hallway to the bedroom and flopped you down onto the bed. You bounced a couple of times before your body settled into the plush bedspread.

"I'm so not in the mood for this shit, Toji. Now move, I have shit to do."

"Mm-mm, doll. Get in the mood for it." He put his right knee onto the edge of the bed and palmed at his cock through his low hanging sweats. Licking the scar on the right corner of his mouth. You noticed that was a habit of his: Whenever he was horny, he always licked that little spot. It would be futile to admit that it worked wonders on your pussy. It turned you on every single time he flicked the tip of his tongue against it.

"Nope. Not happening, mister."

His hands grabbed your ankles and pulled them toward him, forcing your legs to open and expose your dampening panties.

"Uh-oh, your body is telling me a different story." His quirked eyebrow made you want to punch him in the damn face. "Looks like my baby girl's pretty wet already."

"Shut up. Don't look at me. Don't touch me." You tried to hide your face from his view. But Toji didn't let you. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. He tapped the screen a few times and held it up to your face.

"Now, who's gonna make you cum, huh? I got 10 minutes of video saved right here. Let's watch it together, yeah?"

It was a video from last week. You were on top of him riding his thick cock, your tits bouncing. Your hair stuck to your forehead as you rolled your hips back and forth, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs, your flesh spilling out over between his wide fingers.

"Oh fuck, baby. That's my g-good girl. Fuck, take ... this ... cock. Uh-huh. Jus' like that, such a pretty little slut for me. That pussy is just drinkin' me in, huh. Fucking thirsty little cunt, yeah. I'm gonna give you something to drink here real soon, little pussy. Jus' wait a minute. Oh fuck, huh, mm-hm, mm-hm, mmuh-huh, fuck baby. Take it take it take it, hohhh fffffuck yeahhh, shit!!!"

You blushed at the memory. You didn't need to watch it again to have a perfect recollection of how it all happened. That was a particularly filthy fuck. If you weren't wet already, you would be now. But all that happened is you're twice as wet for him. It's like he could smell it on you. Like the fucking dog he is.

"I'm gonna put this back here," he said as he tossed his phone back onto the bedside table. "So, I can hear those pretty little moans from you instead." He grabbed your ankles again and yanked you toward him. "Let's see what we've got goin' on down here, yeah."

He leaned over and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, letting them drop to the floor. He then placed his hands on your thighs and pushed your legs up and apart, spreading you open.

"Ah, shit. Fuck, you're dripping. My sweet little slut." He licked his scar again and his eyes looked almost feral. "Bet you taste so good, baby. Bet you want me to eat your little pussy right up, huh?"

"Mm-mm, nooo. Not tonight, Toji. I'm still mad at you. You've been an absolute shit for weeks. No pussy for you!" You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"Yeah, I think I will." The way he laughed at you was infuriating. He slowly lowered his face down between your legs. Watching your eyes and face the whole time and licked a long stripe up your folds. "So fucking sweet. Just like candy. You're my little treat, huh? Mmm, that pussy is so fucking good."

Toji pressed his mouth against your pussy lips and sucked them into his mouth. "Uh-huh, mm-hm." He moaned into you, letting the vibrations travel through your body, making you shiver. He reached his hands up to your stomach and slid them up and under your shirt, cupping your breasts in his palms. "These too. God, you have the prettiest tits, baby. So soft, like little clouds or somethin'. Such a fucking treat for me."

You arched your back to press them further into his hands as he kneaded your flesh, tweaking your nipples. "Nuh, uh, Toj'. I'm still mad at you. St-stop it." You said breathily. Not even believing in your own convictions at this point. 

He didn't stop. He kept sucking and licking and pressing his tongue into your clit, swirling it around in little circles that made you grip the bedspread beneath you.

"What'm I writin' on your pussy, doll face. What am I spellin' out?" He lifted his head for a moment and looked at you, his green eyes shining with lust. Then he continued to twist and twirl the tip of his tongue around on you.

You looked down and saw that he was indeed writing on your pussy with his tongue.

"I don't know what the hell you're writing. But this sure doesn't feel like an apology, if that's what you're gettin' at." He laughed right into your cunt. You had to fight back a chuckle because that was almost worse than someone laughing in your face. You loved this playful side of him, though. 

Pulling his head up from you, he snorted through his nose, "D'ya have bitchy-o's for breakfast or some shit? Good god, doll. Lighten up. The floor in the kitchen ain't going anywhere. The garbage sure as fuck isn't gonna get any worse in the next few hours. The food in the fridge won't spoil anymo-"

"Few hours?! What the fuck do you have in mind, Toj'?" You let your head fall after you saw the gleam in his eyes. You weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

He shrugged, "Oh, I dunno. Maybe we can fuck for a few hours. Sounds like a good plan, right? What else are you gonna do tonight, huh? I'll keep your ass in bed all night long. I don' give a shit."

That fucking classic Toji Fushiguro smile. 

The bastard.

You sat up and pulled his shirt from your body. And taking either end in your hands, you used it to pull his face back down to finish what he started.

"Fine. But you're getting me a beer after this, doll face."

He hummed out an acknowledgement the best he could with how full his mouth was.

Taglist ::: @blkkizzat (I know how much you love your Toji so I thought I'd give you a little shout for this one) @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @callm3senpaii (we WILL get you to the dark side)

[beangirl73047]

BNHA/MHA Fic Recs

Lessons Learned

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack. Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out. --------------- Aka: Best Jeanist Acquires A Son. Featuring: Serious talks regarding abuse and emotional scars, one adult finally stepping the hell up and trying to help Katsuki, me going off about the sports festival because I'm still not over it, pro-heros having a group chat, and Katsuki finally getting a chance to learn how to be good.

throw me a goddamn rope - just enough to hang myself with

Shouta’s plan had been ill-defined and desperate from the start, but he figures the important shit boiled down to, “Change as little as possible, make sure Midoriya doesn’t get himself killed, and stock up on lychee jelly pouches because that flavor got discontinued three years from now.” Keeping it simple’s always better, and he’s normally good at improvising.

Somewhere along the way, he must’ve fucked up since now he has:

A quirkless problem child hanging off of his every word

His best friend going through a sexuality crisis thanks to said problem child’s mom

His other best friend clinging to him like a security blanket

Some two-bit mob boss threatening him with bouquets of daffodils

To wring the number one hero’s fucking neck for not telling him anything useful before sending him decades into the past

All he did was walk Izuku Midoriya home. It wasn’t meant to turn into whatever mess this is.

landscape after cruelty

“Bakugo, you need to update your costume.” Kirishima said, “There’s this one dude in the support class- he’s got a literal waiting list, that’s how good he is- but he did my new upgrade."

“Yeah,” Bakugo sighs and leans back on his hands, staring at the bracer. “I know. I’ll go,” his mouth twists a little. “I’ll go tomorrow. This is just- this is my design you know?” he’s not explaining himself very well, and refuses to look at Kirishima.

“It can be hard to give up your first hero design, and you did a great job,” Kirishima said. “You definitely had the best one out of all of us when we first got our costumes."

Bakugo hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t design it,” he grumbled.

Let's Reach the Horizon

After defeating All for One, all Izumi Midoriya wants are some holidays.

Then she gets kidnapped by aliens right after.

Well, at least her alien cat cellmate is nice.

It Takes a Child to Teach a Village

Life doesn't always go the way you want it to. Sometimes it just throws you in a garbage can and lights the garbage can on fire and laughs as you scream in agony. And all you can do is tell yourself that it'll be okay. That you'll be okay. And sometimes you're right and you wake up the next morning to a wonderful day full of sunshine and rainbows and singing birds and you start living life in a damn Disney movie.

Other times you're wrong. The cycle just continues. Maybe Life adds lighter fluid next time. Or fills the bottom of the can with dead fish. And it's up to you to get up off your sorry ass and do something to fix your life because it is clear that you're basically alone. When there's no hero coming to save you, you're forced to save yourself. Be your own hero.

Izuku decides the best way to be a hero is to be a teacher.

Packbonding with a Predator | MHA alien AU

[NO MHA KNOWLEDGE REQUIRED]

Humans- The primitive, savage beasts that poachers across the universe were dying (quite literally) to get their claws on. The no contact order placed on their deathworld, Earth, was supposed to ensure that none would ever pass the fringes of their solar system. They hadn't reached deep-space travel (and probably never would), so the Hyperspace Public Safety Commission was fairly certain that their unimaginable strength and bloodthirsty ways were no threat to the universe at large.

So imagine H'zashi's surprise when he and his bondmate, Shouta, were placed in a cell with one after being captured by intergalactically wanted poachers. He just hoped his flock would get a funeral.

And yet how, even though everyone knew humans were unintelligent and vicious, could the purple furred human speak Common? Even more surprising were its first words.

"No fight?"

same faces.

Midoriya is accidentally sent back in time to the entrance exam by a villain attack. He decides to take advantage of the situation and fix the things that went horribly wrong himself.

(this is a standalone teaser for now; I'll probably come back to it at some point but I wrote this with the intention of showing off a snippet, not the first part of a series)

Things aren't as bad as they seem (they are usually worse)

Giyuu can feel the tugging of his heartstrings and realises, with the briefest flash of horror, that he got attached to Class 1-A.

[writingletterstothefire]

my sweet baby

A/N: Hi friends! This was my first attempt at writing, initially submitted to the lovely Clarke on @sergeantkane​. She was kind enough to post this for me when I was too scared to post it to my own blog. If you like it, please let me know! 

Additionally, I’m going to try to make my reader inserts as inclusive as possible. Please let me know if you see anything too specific when I describe my reader that would take you out of the experience. Thank you!

       You were purposefully trying to piss him off now. You had to be. That’s the only explanation for why you were here, again, wearing that infuriating white sundress and those strappy heels that were just casual enough for the outfit to be called casual. The low back, which showed off nearly the entirety of your smooth back, also showed precisely what he expected; you weren’t wearing a bra. The confirmation of his theory only served to infuriate him even more. You had to know the effect you had on him. Santi was furious. How could you tease him like this? 

         Of course, you had no idea of the effect you had on him. How could you? You’d been at this resort for a week, and you’d attended every single dance lesson provided for the patrons of said resort. You’d also attended all of his performances, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the complex lifts and beautiful spins that he and his fellow dancers made look so easy. And, at each of those events, he regarded you with nothing short of disdain and fury. You had no clue what you had done to offend him. You had greatly admired him from the first moment you walked up to the gazebo he was teaching in as you and your family arrived to the resort. A trip to this lovely Columbian get away had been planned for months, and while you knew the locals were a beautiful people, you never could have dreamt of him. All dazzling smiles and charm as he spun the middle-aged mothers around, shouting out words of encouragement, no matter how much of a travesty they truly looked while trying to replicate the incredibly complicated dance steps he made look so simple. Once he’d made the rounds, you had smiled hopefully, walking straight up to him with full intent to tell him how amazing you thought he was, but as soon as you got within two feet of him, he seemed to freeze up. He’d muttered out his name, Santiago Garcia, in a choked manner, his face turning scarlet in what you now assumed was poorly concealed fury. At what, you didn’t know to this very moment. What bothered you the most, was how hard you tried to get him to like you. You cheered extra loudly, chose to sit front row, brought roses to hand out to all the dancers. Each time, he brushed you aside.

       But what you didn’t know about was the war, raging inside Santi. Each time your name passed someone lips, he grew jealous, wanting to be the only one to speak that name. Every moment your gaze burned into his, he felt the flames of desire licking at his skin. This was wrong. So wrong. He was closer to your father’s age than yours. Granted, you were a fully consenting adult, or at least you would be, had he bothered to show you any interest. Still, he grew concerned. Fourteen years divided you. You were twenty-five, he was pushing thirty-nine. Surely, this was wrong. And that’s why he had to push you away. He couldn’t give you the life you deserve, he couldn’t even get down on one knee to propose. Wait, propose? Oh, damnit, he’s a goner.

       All of this to wind up back to the current matter at hand—you, here at this reception in honor of the dancers, looking beautiful as ever. You were here as one last attempt; if he disregarded you now, you would give up. Your family was here for another month, you couldn’t keep harboring this silly crush on a man who clearly had no interest. But, when Santi brushed by you again, in favor of charming the older women of the resort, you deflated. You made your move to the table where your families’ discarded drinks and half eaten dinners sat, thrown to the side as you had been, in favor of a dance lesson. But, before you got to that coveted seat you were longing to take, a large body appeared in front of you. Benny Miller.

       You knew Benny, you’d met him plenty of times before in dance lessons where he tried to sweep your cousin, Alicia, off her feet. She was a stunner, a true ten out of ten, and every man within twenty miles of the resort had been vying for her attention, including Benny. Lucky for him, she seemed to only have eyes for him. He gave you that heart-stopping grin of his, and you knew what he wanted.

        “Benny, I can’t sneak Alicia out again,” you groaned. “Our parents are going to figure out that there’s no luau being held by the tennis courts, and I’m getting tired of waiting outside, alone, in the damn humid nights they have here.”

        His grin only widened, quickly grabbing your waist and guiding you out to the dance floor, pretending you were just another tourist getting a lesson. “Come on, dulcita, I’m begging! It won’t be as long as last night, I swear.”

       The dancers had taken to calling you “dulcita”, on account of them finding you so sweet, what with constantly supporting them and gifting them flowers. All the dancers but one. Speak of the devil, you noticed him angrily knock back his drink that he’d previously been nursing, storming across the dancefloor to his dance partner. Bella was a tanned, long-legged, brunette, with a heart of gold and an ass of steel. You watched over Benny’s shoulder as the two dancers, moved seamlessly in sync. It made sense that the two of them would wind up together. Both professional dancers, both equally drop-dead gorgeous, and both charming as hell. Blinking away any wetness that had gathered in your eyes, you looked up at Benny.

       “Fine. You’ll have two hours, that’s it.”

       Why had you agreed to this? The weather tonight had skipped over humid, and dropped completely into freezing. It was like the weather was mocking you. Benny and Alicia had disappeared into the locker rooms by the tennis courts, leaving you to wander the grounds nearby to escape any unwelcome sounds coming from the building. You’d learnt your lesson that first night. Since then, you’d discovered a small garden near the back of the property. This became your favorite place to wander while you waited for the two lovebirds to wrap up.

        “Dulcita,” the familiar voice called out, the word feeling alien because of who was saying it. “What are you doing out here? It’s fuckin’ freezing.”

        You were speechless. You were overwhelmed, this was the most he’d ever said to you in one shot. And to use your nickname on top of it all? You very well might pass out. He huffed at your silence, hurrying over to you and wrapping his suit jacket around you, before stepping back quickly, as though he may catch some disease from standing too close.

        “What the hell is wrong with you?” Oh no. You hadn’t meant to blurt that out. You saw your mistake as his ears began to turn red, not from the cold, but from the anger reflected in his eyes.

        “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not the one standing out in the fuckin’ cold, wandering around a garden at all hours of the night. I was just passing through, and I see you flitting around the flowers like some goddamn fairy. What are you doing out here, anyways? Waiting for Benny?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

        “Yes, I’m waiting for Benny! Who do you think sneaks Alicia out so he can fuck her in the fucking locker rooms?” You rolled your eyes, fed up with his attitude. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business. Where’s Bella, anyway? Shouldn’t you be dry humping her on a dancefloor somewhere?”

        A look of confusion passed over him. “Alicia? But I thought you and Benny… What the hell are you talking about? Bella, my dance partner? The one who’s about to go on leave because she’s pregnant with her and Frankie’s second kid?” He looked almost amused now. “Now wait just a minute. Dulcita, were you jealous of Bella?”

        You must have stood there gaping for a full thirty seconds, before you could muster up a weak, “N-No…”

        Yeah, you weren’t convinced either. But you mustered up courage from somewhere, getting in his face. “Wait! Were you insinuating that I was fucking Benny?! Because, first of all, I’m offended that you would think so little of me-“

        The words of protest died on your tongue, and were replaced with Santi’s own tongue as it dove into your mouth, mid-argument. You melted right into the kiss, arms flailing for a moment, before coming to rest on his chest, leaving them there until Santi pulled back.

        “I’ve been wanting to do that since you showed up to this shithole,” he whispered, breath fanning across our face at his still-close proximity. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, where they’d moved to pull you in for the kiss.

        “I-I’m confused,” you squeaked, gripping his shirt lightly as the chest to keep him from pulling any further back. “I thought y-you hated me?”

        Santi sighed, “I never hated you. I… I hated myself. I hated myself for falling for a girl like you. Thought that there was no way you’d go for an old man like me, when you’re so young and in your prime. I’d just… hold you back. I thought it might be easier if I didn’t get attached, but I did anyways, and, fuck, dulcita… Now that I’ve kissed you, I can’t turn back.”

       “What if I didn’t want you to turn back?” Your bright eyes bore into his. “What if… we see where the rest of the summer takes us? See where we’re at when it’s time to for me to leave? I could summer here from now on, you could winter in the States…” You blushed deeply, “I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of everything…”

        Santi’s grin had grown with every word you said, gently grabbing your chin to keep your eyes level with his. “Sounds like a plan to me, dulcita.”

        With that, he closed the gap between you, small as it was, and kissed you with more fire and passion than you had ever felt in your life.

[swiss-cheeze]

Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner || S/O teaching horse riding

I just want everyone to know that I have had 3-4 years of horse riding experience.

Gender: none, they/them

Spencer:

Spencer is taller than the goddamn horse and he is terrified

“(Y/n) you do realise how many diseases and bugs can be carried on this thing right?”

“Spencer, he's not a thing! His name is Beauty”

“Beauty? What kind of name is that for a bloody horse!”

“Someones never seen Black Beauty before”

You’d show Spencer exactly what to do first, stepping on the block, foot in the stirrup, hoist, land, other foot.

Clean cut and ready for a ride.

Spencer however.

Was not.

“What if i fall”

“Im right here”

“You can't carry my weight”

“It's not like you're that heavy Spencer”

After a little grumbling and physics lessons Spencer finally put his foot in the stirrup.

Yay!

Now for the rest.

“Do you want me to show you again?”

You show Spencer how to hoist yourself up over the horse and onto its back, Spencer of course looks apprehensive at first.

You hold the other side of the saddle so it doesn't twist too much on the first go.

You feel the weight of Spencer lifting off and!

He steps back onto the block with a slight thump.

“I can't do it!”

“Don't shout Spencer you'll spook the horse!”

Spencer grumbles for a few minutes of course but after some more reassuring you hold the other side of the saddle again.

You feel the weight go to the other side.

He makes it!

Spencer sits perfect on the horse, stiffly, but perfectly!

“You did it Spence!”

“Oh my god im on a horse”

You laugh of course before instructing him on where the other stirrup is.

“This is so hard without having stability (Y/n)!” Spencer was kicking the poor horse trying to get the stirrup.

“Okay okay here!” you helped him put his foot into the stirrup and he seemed to relax as you got onto your horse as well, easier, simpler, and a lot quicker than Spencer.

“Okay Spence,” you pointed for him to look at your feet, “you need to hold your heels down, they should always be the lowest points of your body,” Spencer did as instructed.

“Okay now, your foot, knee, waist and shoulder should be relatively in the same area. Almost a straight line,” you showed Spencer what you meant by hitting your foot, directing it in a relatively straight line to your knee, to your waist and then your shoulder.

Spencer copied you and squealed slightly when the horse moved with his movement.

“Okay, now you're reins,” you picked up the reins in front of you professionally, “hold it like this, or, you can hold the monkey bar in front of your crotch. It just limits your movements.

“How will i move and change directions?”

“Either you hold the reins and take direction etcetera, or, you can hold the monkey bar and i can link your horse with my horse and ill direct us,”

Spencer goes to talk but you tell him the downside of the second option.

“Only back thing is that if one horse gets spooked or starts a canter or run the other will follow-”

“The first, definitely the first” Spencer almost goes pale.

You teach Spencer how to hold the reins, to loosen his grip, to tug slightly causing his horse to move back a few paces.

“Okay want to start a slow walk?” Spencer is apprehensive but nods.

“Okay, what you want to do is squeeze with your heels slightly, like hugging the horse with your legs. Don't do it with our thighs do it with your heels, if its too soft your horse won't move so just keep adding pressure little by little until-” while talking you’re also showing Spencer with your horse and feet what to do and sure enough when you add the right pressure your horse jumps into a walk, you do a circle around Spencer with a smile.

You tug on the reins softly and sure enough to stop where you first started next to Spencer.

“Okay, your turn,” Spencer nods and adjusts himself accordingly before starting to squeeze with his heels, it takes a moment but his horse jumps into a walk.

“I'm doing it!”

“You did it Spence!” you give your horse a little kick and click of the tongue and accidently kick into a soft trot.

“Oh shit,” you laugh as you start lifting yourself slightly on the horse like you’ve been taught and have taught for years.

“Woah what’s that” Spencer asked as you trotted a little in front of him.

“It's a trot Spencer, it's the next after your master the walk,” you finally slow your horse to a walk and walk next to Spencer, “Beauty here likes her trot a lot and is always eager to start them so it takes a little to stop her, that's why i didn't give her to you because i knew she wouldn't walk,”

“You know alot about horses (Y/n)” wow great observation Spencer.

“Been a rider all my life, i grew up in the city but when i found horse riding was a thing i begged my parents for lessons and soon became the best rider in the county,” you grinned as you watched the horizon, “got myself a good texan accent too,” you said in the texan accent. Spencer snorted but didn't say anything.

You realise Spencer is pretty stiff on his horse which is slowing him down.

“Spence, relax, if you relax your horse is relaxed. Let your hips go with the horses moments,”

“If i do that i'll fall!”

“Who here has been horse riding practically all their life?”

“You”

“Who here is an FBI agent who has never ridden a horse let alone barely looked at one or researched one?”

“Me”

“Exactly, so relax,” Spencer huffed softly but allowed his legs and hips to relax, almost immediately his horse caught up with you within seconds.

“Oh hey it worked,”

“Wow captain obvious,”

You two rode for hours on end, trading stories and laughing at everything until you had practically walked around the ranch twice, almost three times.

“I really enjoyed this (Y/n)”

You both hopped off your horses, of course teaching Spencer to take his foot out the stirrup first and the swing his leg around.

“We could do it every weekend or so depending on your schedule?”

“I'd like that”

Hotch:

Hotch was a lot more into it then Spencer would be.

Oh my god he would totally bring Jack.

“I know you said you wanted to teach me how to ride a horse but i just-”

“It's okay we can teach you next time!”

Of course you’re a little disappointed so you try to make plans for ‘next time’ to be as soon as possible.

Hotch was able to get J.J. and Will to babysit Jack while he went to the ranch with you.

“Okay do you remember what i was telling Jack last time?”

Hotch remembers. Of course he does.

He lies so he’s able to hear you talk and ramble about horses more.

“Okay so!” he knows he’s in trouble.

It only takes a few minutes to get the stirrups the right length for Hotch and before you know it he’s on the back of the horse.

“Like this,” you show Hotch how to hold the reins and he grips them in an iron grip.

“No, no like,” you show him again.

“Like this?”

“No that's too loose you won't be able to control the horse”

“Like this,”

“THERE WE GOT IT OKAY,” you laugh while still keeping your voice low enough not to startle the horse.

“Now, squeeze the horse with your feet, like a hug,”

“Like this”

“No you’re just squeezing with your thighs, with your feet”

“I cant-”

“If i can you can”

It takes a little while but Hotch does get the hang of it and hallelujah you’re walking.

Well, sort of.

You are walking for a little while but Hotch's horse starts to speed up and of course Hotch squeezes his legs and holds the reins tighter which just eggs on the horse and soon enough the inevitable happens.

“Im- im not walking anymore!” Hotch is now doing an uncomfortable bob on the horse while trying not to fall off.

“A-Arron stop squeezing with your legs!” you trot on Hotch's side and reach out for his Horse reins.

“I'm not, I'm not!” you tug at the reins for a second and the horse slows as well as yours.

You laugh as the two of you come to a stop, Hotch is actually smiling.

“My team won't believe this at all,”

“That you’re smiling or that you’re on a horse?”

“Both”

The two of you laugh for a second of course before finally walking around the ranch again, Hotch talks about his team while you talk about horses.

Unfortunately in the middle of your walk Hotch gets a call from J.J.

“I um, im sorry but i have to go,”

“It's okay, maybe you could ride a horse to the BAU?” you joked.

“Maybe I will one day if we continue this?” Jesus Christ your inside damn near exploded.

“I’d love that!” the two of you make your way back to Hotch's car slowly seeing as he can only walk the horse.

You tell and show Hotch how to get off the horse, of course he stumbles for a second but then hands the reins to you, you walk him and the horses back to the stable but only tack up the horse Hotch rode.

“You're not going for a break?”

“Nah, gonna get some jumping practice in,”

Hotch waved goodbye a little awkwardly but made his way as slow as he could to his car, he truly didn't want to leave.

While backing out from the carpark the last thing Hotch saw was you and your horse jumping over some barrels, the poor man almost spewed butterflies they were that strong.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 2)

Here’s Part 1

#5: Glaciator

Here's a good lesson to teach these incredibly impressionable children watching: If you're not in a romantic relationship by the time you're a teenager, you're a loser! And if someone says they just want to be friends, ignore that obvious hint that they're not into you and keep trying to impress them.

Marinette joins her friends to get some ice cream sold by the worst ice cream vendor in the world, Andre. Like, they have to find out where he's going to set up through a series of clues, they don't get a choice to order the flavors they like (and that's not even taking allergies into consideration), and he only gives a single cone to a couple to share while going on and on about how he knows about who someone really loves, and oh my God, why is this man still in business?

Surprisingly, as dumb as it is for Andre to get akumatized over a single customer doubting his magic ice cream, he's not the reason this episode is on the list. That honor goes to Cat Noir.

At the beginning of the episode, Cat Noir drops the pretenses and asks Ladybug out on a date.

Cat Noir: What would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?

Ladybug: For dinner? As superheroes?

Cat Noir: Well, yeah. That's right. We're only together when we're saving Paris. I mean, wouldn't you actually like to get to know one another?

Ladybug: I... That's so thoughtful of you, but I can't. I already have plans with some friends.

Cat Noir: Well, if your plans end early, come and join me.

Ladybug: We'll see.

Cat Noir: I'll be waiting, my lady.

Notice that Ladybug doesn't say that she's coming, and mentions that she already has plans. Even the irresponsible Plagg points this out.

Plagg:You seem in a hurry to get stood up.

Adrien: She didn't say she wasn't coming.

Plagg: But she didn't say she was either!

So when Ladybug obviously doesn't come, Cat Noir just decides to mope around, acting like he was left at the altar, and when they meet up to take on the titular Glaciator, Cat Noir gets all pissy that Ladybug didn't come.

Ladybug: Hello, Kitty. Did the bad guys leave you cold?

Cat Noir: (sounding like his staff got shoved up his ass) How was your amazing evening with your “friends”?

Again, Ladybug never said she was going to meet up with Cat Noir that night, because she had plans. Even later episodes like “Stormy Weather 2” claim that Ladybug stood up Cat Noir, when she DIDN'T! There was never anything set in stone, so Cat Noir can't say that Ladybug stood him up.

Even after the fight, when Ladybug tells Cat Noir that she only sees him as a friend, afterwards, Adrien still thinks he has a shot with her.

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Dude. Take. A. Goddamn. Hint.

As ironic as the circumstances are, Ladybug just said she isn't into Adrien, and he's still going to go after her. And spoiler alert, his attempts to woo her are only going to get worse from here.

Yeah, this episode is heavy on the romance, and the idealized vision of what the writers think being in a relationship is like. Admittedly, I have a more jaded view of romantic plotlines, as the only real relationship I had ended right before my senior year of high school, and it gave me serious trust issues as a result because of how badly it ended, so I don't want to consider myself an expert in relationships.

But at the same time, that breakup helped me learn to not prioritize being in a relationship, and just focus on self-improvement. If that was the lesson the episode was going for, I'd get it, but we never get anyone say that. All everyone in this episode talks about is how awesome being in love with someone is.

The fact that the audience is supposed to find Cat Noir's behavior charming is disgusting, and I can't believe that Astruc condones this kind of writing.

In addition to continuing the trend of making Cat Noir oblivious to the word “no”, This episode also managed to do the impossible and make me hate ice cream with a fiery passion.

#4: Copycat

This show is really bad with writing episodes about evil doppelgangers, and like with “Antibug”, it's about Ladybug getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with.

A statue of Ladybug and Cat Noir is being unveiled, but because Marinette is preoccupied with trying to make sure Adrien doesn't receive an embarrassing voicemail she accidentally sent him, she isn't able to attend the unveiling ceremony as Ladybug. So when the sculptor mentions he has feelings for Ladybug, Cat Noir says this:

Cat Noir: Hey, don't mean to burst your bubble, but you know, Ladybug and me, we're a thing, you know?

The Sculptor: Really?

Cat Noir: Yeah, we're like this (crosses his fingers to show how close they are).

This exchange is never mentioned in the episode ever again, despite being what gets the sculptor akumatized.

Copycat, the akumatized form of the sculptor, is a reused character model copy of Cat Noir, and so like every impostor storyline in every TV show ever made, the public immediately turns on Cat Noir when Copycat frames him to the point where the police try to arrest him.

In case you couldn't tell, once again, Cat Noir is a big part of why this episode is so awful. If his entitlement issues were actually brought to light and he learns to not act like he and Ladybug are meant to be, it would have worked. Instead, it's Ladybug who is blamed for Copycat happening. Seriously, Cat Noir gives Ladybug heat for not being at the statue unveiling, like it was her fault the sculptor was akumatized.

Even later on, when Ladybug has trouble telling the difference between the two cats, Cat Noir has the gall to say “Have I ever lied to you, Bugaboo?”

HEY! Shat Noir! Lying is the reason you're Public Enemy #1 right now! You have no right to act like Ladybug deserves your trust, especially after you lied about your relationship with her!

This episode was also a little... uncomfortable to watch for a reason. For point of reference, here is the sculptor before he got akumatized.

While I can't read your mind, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that you, the reader, are thinking “How old is this man, exactly?”

For a while, people in the Miraculous fandom were a little creeped out by this man because the episode unintentionally made it look like this grown-ass man was in love with a teenage girl. It wasn't until March of 2020 that Astruc clarified his age.

But by then, the damage had been done, with some fan works, most notably Zoe-Oneesama's Scarlet Lady, calling his age into question (though ironically, the comic ended with the revelation that he is around the same age as the main cast about five months before Astruc's tweet).

The only thing this episode really accomplished was set the stage for Adrien's worst moments by showing how self-centered he can be, no matter how the show tries to portray his feelings for Ladybug.

#3: Ladybug (The Episode, Obviously)

This is where the Lila subplot comes to a head because Astruc didn't think it would make sense for Lila to play a part in the season finale, and it doesn't fail to disappoint... mostly because everyone had expectations so low, they've made their way to the Earth's core.

Lila frames Marinette for cheating on a test, stealing her grandmother's necklace, and pushing her down a flight of stairs (despite showing no visible injuries). Despite no investigation being launched, Marinette is immediately expelled from school with nobody believing her except Alya. Why is she suddenly on Marinette's side again, despite falling for Lila's lies so many times before, while reiterating that she's still her best friend? Because the plot says so.

And if the episode was about Alya investigating Lila and proving Marinette's innocence, it would have been okay, and could have led to some great character development for her.

Of course, that doesn't happen, as the idea of Marinette being expelled was that gripping of a plot, as the focus of the episode immediately shifts over to Hawkmoth attempting to create another army of Akumas like what he did in “Heroes' Day”... only for Nathalie's failing health to force him to abort the plan, making the entire moment pointless.

Instead, despite how dangerous it is to transform using the Peacock Miraculous, Nathalie becomes Mayura and creates another evil doppelganger of Ladybug. What is it with the writers and evil doppelgangers of the heroes? Did someone on the writing team really like the Spider-Man Clone Saga?

And when Cat Noir sees the doppelganger, well... I didn't mention a certain scene in “Puppeteer 2” because I felt it would be better to talk about it here.

During the battle with the pathetic wax statues, Cat Noir briefly lets his guard down around yet another evil doppelganger of Ladybug, this time, it's a wax statue being controlled by Puppeteer 2 (even though the way she talks is nothing like the way Puppeteer's minions talked because it was five-year-old girl doing the talking). The wax Ladybug goes in for a kiss, and Cat Noir almost lets her take his Miraculous if not for the wax smell giving it away, and not, you know, the complete 180 she took in terms of suddenly wanting to kiss him for no reason.

Okay, it's a little shaky, but Cat Noir still caught on. He'd never fall for a fake Ladybug just because she said she loved him, right?

Yes. He seriously took the side of the impostor all because of the sudden love confession. Just how MORONIC can one person be? If Caity Lotz randomly showed up at my doorstep and claimed she loved me, I wouldn't immediately start making out with her. I would want to know what the hell she's doing here, and why she suddenly declared her love for me.

But Cat Noir seriously falls for the fake Ladybug for the dumbest reason possible. He seriously doesn't think it's weird that Ladybug suddenly confessed her love for him?

And then Ladybug gets the charm that the fake Ladybug was created from, and suddenly, she's a good guy? Before we even get time to think about this, Mayura just erases the fake Ladybug from existence, and now we're supposed to feel bad that she's gone?

Even the expulsion subplot is easily resolved, as after an interesting scene with Adrien coercing Lila to confess in exchange for letting her model alongside her, Marinette is just let back into school with no difficulties. I mean, it's not like her parents would be pissed that their daughter was framed and possibly want to take legal action against the school, right?

And I have to reiterate, this is the last we see of Lila this season because Astruc thinks Chloe is far worse and deserves to be punished for working with Hawkmoth.

Between Marinette getting expelled, a second Scarletmoth attack, and the fake Ladybug, this episode just has too much going on, and it makes it incredibly hard to follow. If it was a two-parter, I think it could have been better paced, but from we got, it's just a mess of a poorly paced episode.

#2: Frozer

Wow, you probably didn't expect to see this episode on this list. I mean, everyone in the Miraculous fandom loves this episode!

Where should I even start? Maybe the scene from the trailer where Adrien reveals his identity to Ladybug... only for it to be a daydream. Because why would we actually want a reveal or have Adrien confess his feelings to Ladybug without the mask?

Yep, despite Ladybug saying that she only sees Cat Noir as a friend, as well as the fact that she loves someone else, he still can't help but try to make her fall for him. But don't worry, I'll get back to their relationship later on.

After that, Marinette agrees to come to the ice rink with Adrien so he isn't as nervous around Kagami, who is awful in this episode. Remember when Astruc elaborated on Kagami line telling Marinette to not hesitate as a warning to move her ass or Adrien was hers

Doesn't that just make everyone love Kagami as a character, and not as a forced love rival instead?

And this is the episode where the romance subplot in Miraculous Ladybug went from having an interesting concept with the Love Square, and turned it into a generic love triangle plotline thanks to Luka. I love Lukanette, but the whole love triangle only gives less time for the four sides of the Love Square to shine. It doesn't help that Marinette's conflicted feelings are brushed over so we can focus on the titular Frozer, who only gets three lines while akumatized.

And now back to the Whiny Cat Noir Show. For no reason, Cat Noir is suddenly all angry when he sees Ladybug, and just like in “Glaciator”, it's never acknowledged. Though at least here, Cat Noir admits that Ladybug's plan to defeat Frozer is right.

And then there's the ending, where it looks like Marinette is going to confess her feelings to Adrien... only for that to also be a daydream.

Hey, if any of the Miraculous Ladybug writers are reading this... STOP TEASING THE AUDIENCE LIKE THIS AND CUT THE BULLSHIT ALREADY!

This episode is proof that the romance subplot will just be drawn out even more, all while teasing the audience with potential confessions and reveals just to keep them hooked. And yet, it was only a taste of what the romance would be like in Season 3.

And even then, I still think one episode is worse than this.

#1: FELIX.

I hate this episode. It is among the worst episodes of any TV show I have ever seen. Not just for the writing, but for what it represents. Let's just say that like “Animaestro”, Astruc had a hand in the way this episode turned out, and unlike “Animaestro”, there was a big fallout on Twitter.

In fact, I'm sorry to keep leading you down the rabbit hole like this, but I think this episode deserves its own post. Or rather, its own posts.

For now, I'm going to work on the list of the best episodes to help me recover my sanity.

[only--you]

❥ ♡

The Baptist ✰

-·=»‡«=·- 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 7 -·=»‡«=·-

Warnings/ Blood, Violence, strong language, substance abuse, choking, needles, insinuated sexual references, and potential smut. Viewer discretion advised.

A/N - Heyy!! I’m back with chapter seven! Just want to give a, heavy content warning, I know they’re listed above but this chapter includes choking and even smut...yes, I finally wrote some smut for this story, ha! I’d also like to say that I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to get this chapter posted but I’m glad to be back. I’ve officially graduated high school (since may-june, I was homeschooled) so now I have lots and lots of free time so expect more chapters soon! One more thing, I posted a masterlist which can be found in my bio and I also have it pinned to my profile. Okay, I hope you enjoy this lengthy chapter! <<33

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

★·.·´¯`·.·★ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Delaney finally found out that while she was in John’s bunker, Nick’s wife Kim gave birth to their daughter, Carmina. Delaney decided that before things go any further with Sharky, she has to decide where things are going with John. Before she goes back to the bunker, she makes a pit stop to see someone special. 

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚢'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

“Hey, we can take my jeep. Once you drop me off at the bunker, you can just drive it back to my house unless John decides to send in the cavalry.” I said throwing Nick the keys and shaking my head. “It’s so fucking annoying when he does that, the bliss bullets make me feel so shitty.” I sat in the passenger seat and struggled to buckle myself because I was shaking so bad. “Hey, are you okay? Be honest.” Nick grabbed my arm and stopped me. “No...not really. I just - when I went to go arrest Joseph, I didn’t know this is how the county would turn out.” I put my head in my hands. I wasn’t crying, I was just disappointed. “Look, none of this is your fault. Nobody knew this is how it would’ve turned out. Don’t blame yourself.” Nick said as he rubbed my back. He took his hand off and started the engine. “Look on the brightside, we’re going to see Carmina right now. Don’t worry about anything peggie related until it’s time, D.” Talking stuff over with Nick, cleared my mind. We pulled up to Nick and Kim’s house, standing on the porch was Kim holding Carmina. “Oh my god! Congratulations guys. Kim, she’s gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” I said as I was rubbing Carmina’s head. “I’m doing alright! My feet hurt so bad though. Other than that, I’m so relieved she’s here.” Kim handed Carmina to Nick and pulled me in for a long hug. “Look, I know things are tough right now but I want you to know that Nick and I are always here for you. What’s going on right now isn’t your fault, remember that.” She rubbed my back. Tears rolling down my face, Kim pulled away. “Nick, why don’t you give Delaney her goddaughter, I’m sure she’s dying to hold her.” Kim said smiling sweetly at me. “Oh, she’s so small. She’s going to grow up to be an amazingly strong woman just like her mother.” I said as I was rocking Carmina back and forth. “And just like her godmother too.” Kim said smiling at me. 

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚙

As the sun sets, I realize that I still need to head back to the bunker. “I’m going to have to hand beautiful Carmina back to you, Kim. I have to head back to John’s bunker. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t sent in the-” As Kim grabs Carmina, I feel a bliss arrow shoot straight into my thigh. Suddenly, everything around me fades to black. 

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚙

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚢'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

As I start to wake from unconsciousness, I hear faint grunting in the background. I don’t know where I am but the last thing I remember is being with Nick and Kim meeting their daughter. She was so petite and wholesome. I’m heartbroken to know that she has to be raised in the current state of Montana. This isn’t how I wanted things to turn out. Innocent families ripped from their homes, citizens being held under their will to be converted to the cult, innocent people dying, I had no idea this would happen. My eyes are blurry but I’m now able to see where the grunting is coming from. Deputy Hudson is sitting right in front of me. Black mascara has covered her cheeks and she has duct tape over her mouth. I try yelling to her but it’s no use seeing as I have tape on my mouth as well. I start to look around and begin to realize that I’m in John’s bunker. I hear the door latch open and hear John whistling, We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn. He slams down a toolbox and opens it up. He removes the one storage compartment and stops. He turns around and begins to tell me a story;

“My parents were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes.” John turns around to the toolbox sitting behind him. He pulls out, what looks to be skin, and staples it to the wood of the table. “One night, they took me into the kitchen, and they threw me on the ground, and I experienced pain after pain after pain after pain-” He slammed down the staple gun he was holding. I winced because I had never had him act this way around me. John was usually loving and made me feel safe. He had his moments, yes, but he was never violent. At least towards me. “And when I didn’t think I could take anymore, I did.” Once again, John turns around. This time, he goes into the storage compartment he removed from the toolbox. He grabs a tattoo gun and begins to walk towards me. Hudson, behind him, starts screaming but her screams are muffled due to the tape covering her mouth. John adjusts the lamp that’s next to me and continues, “Something broke free inside. I wasn’t scared, I was-” John flicks the lamp on. “clear.” He plugs a wire into the tattoo gun. “I looked up at them and I started to laugh. All I could say was...yes.” John clicks on the tattoo gun for just moment and then immediately turns it off. “I spent my entire life looking for more things to say ‘yes’ to.” He places the tattoo gun down and popped open my shirt to reveal my chest. For a moment, he just stares...then, he continues. “I opened up every hole in my body and when those were filled, I created more.” John is now making eye contact with me. A single tear comes out of my right eye as I’ve never seen John like this before. I try talking to him but this damn duct tape is my goddamn way. He pulls away and still continues on with his lengthy story. “But it was Joseph who showed me just how selfish I was being.” Hudson is still in the background trying to shout at John. He grabs a bowl off of the table next to him and pulls out a sponge. He begins cleaning off my chest. “Always receiving. Always taking. The best gift isn’t the one you get, it’s the one you give and giving takes courage.” He finishes cleaning off my chest and places the bowl down. He begins to walk back towards the table which has the toolbox on it. “The courage to own your sin. To etch it on to your flesh and carry its burden and when you have endured -- when you have truly begin to atone -- to cut it out like a cancer and display it for all to see. Ha...my god that’s courage.” He stops and grabs a screwdriver. “I’m going to teach you courage. Teach you how to say, ‘yes’ so you can confront your weakness.” John begins pacing and speaking with more volume, clearly full of passion. “Confront your sin. You will swim across an ocean of pain and  emerge...free.” He quiets down and begins to walk towards me again, this time, pointing the screwdriver at me. “For only then can you truly begin to atone.” When he reaches me, he places the cold metal of the screwdriver onto my chest. He then, swiftly takes it off and walks back to the table. “So who wants to go first? Hm? Which one? Hmm? This is lesson number one. Someone’s got to choose.” Feeling the pressure and knowing if I don’t nod my head in agreement, John will just get angrier. I don’t want anything else happening to Hudson because who knows what she’s already been through. I nod my head and wave my bound hand at him. “Yes. YES!” I can hear Hudson screaming in disagreement as John begins to walk closer to me yet again. “You’re not going to regret this. I promise.” He points the screwdriver at me again. “Now, before we begin,” John begins to walk to Hudson and throws the screwdriver to the side. “I think it’s only proper that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room. Confessions are meant to be private, after all.” He reaches the back of Hudson’s chair and begins to roll her towards me. Screaming, Hudson makes eye contact me. We hold it for a moment and I begin to tear up. Hudson is now crying even more than she was before. “Shhh. Shhh...I am not here to take your life. I’m here to give it to you.” John straightens up and pushes the lamp out of the way that had shined on me prior. He places his hands around my neck and begins to choke me. “I’m going to open you and pour your worst fears inside and as you choke, your sins will reveal themselves.” Hudson, next to us begins shouting at John in hopes he’d let go of me. “Only then, will you truly understand the Power of Yes.” He removes his hands from my throat and continues back over to Hudson. “I’ll be right back.” John says as he wheels Hudson out of the room. 

I begin sobbing. I know John was probably doing all of this because Hudson was in the room but I’ve never felt like this before. I knew I should’ve gotten back to the bunker earlier. He probably hated the fact that I was having a good time out of the bunker, thinking I’d get too used to it and want to go out more often. Well, who wouldn’t get used to being outside after being locked in all day? 

𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

I roll Deputy Hudson down the hallway of the bunker. I feel bad for treating Delaney the way I did back there but, that’s what happens when you don’t come back to the bunker after many hours of being out. If anything, she should be lucky I didn’t do anything worse to her. I just...I know that, after that interaction, she might not feel the same way about...us anymore. I reach miss Deputy Hudson’s room and I unlatched her door. I bring her inside and shut the door so when I remove her restraints, she doesn’t try anything...funny. I go down to her feet and begin to cut off the rope. Next, I come up to her wrists and finally get the duct tape off of her mouth. “What the fuck is your deal? What are you going to do to Delaney? Don’t you hurt her anymore then that petty fucking choking you did.” She gets in my face. I slap her and push her down onto her bed. “You don’t tell me how to punish my people. What goes on in confessional, is going to be none of your business. You’ll get your fill of confession soon, don’t you worry. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get to.” I remove my hand from her face and head over to the door. I unlatch it and start back down the hallway to Delaney. I open up the door and see Delaney still in the spot that I left her. I place my hand on her shoulder and walk around to face her. I pull up a stool that’s near her and sit down. Reaching up to her face, I remove the duct tape slowly so I don’t hurt her as much. “So, I’d just like to apologize for acting different towards you. I was angry about your tardiness. I felt as though you abandoned me and I didn’t like it. I’d also like to apologize for choking you.” John said stroking my cheek and removing my wrist restraints. “Oh yeah? Well, you should’ve fucking said that instead of choking me and scrubbing me down with a sponge. I’d also like to mention, it didn’t make me feel any better knowing that Hudson was here. Has she been in the fucking bunker the whole time?!” Delaney yelled. “I don’t want to lie to you so yes, she’s been here the whole time. I’ve kept her in the lower rooms as to keep you from be able to hear her. I didn’t want to put you through that or risk other things so I didn’t tell you.” I told her as I started to cut through the rope around her ankles. 

*steamy scene approaching, btw, not just making out ;)*

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚢'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

“Yeah, other things meaning, saving Hudson and leaving the bunker. Look, I love you, John, but choking me and having her bound in front of me, wasn’t the most amazing thing either.” I said flustered as I started pacing back and forth. “Wait...wait. Did you just- did you just say that you loved me?” John grabbed my wrist and I froze. Oh shit...I fucking did. “Yes...yes I did. What are you going to do about it?” I said yanking my arm back and crossing my arms now. John shoved me against the table that had the toolbox on it. He sat me on top and started making out with me. John began unbuttoning my shirt. “You know, you could just rip it off. It would be a lot faster.” I said in-between kisses. “No I can’t, this shirt was expensive.” John pulled away so he could accurately continue unbuttoning the shirt I was wearing. I started laughing as he continued. He then began to unbutton his shirt so I starting unbuckling his belt. I took off my unbuttoned shirt and threw it to the floor. John did the same, as well as pulling his pants down. I undid my belt and threw my pants to the ground. John came back over to me and continued to kiss me passionately. He made his way to my neck and began sucking which left hickies. “Well, if no one knew we were together, they would now.” I said through heavy breathes. “Fuck it. Who cares right?” John said while making his way to nibble on my ear. “Um...maybe Jacob or y’know, Joseph. I’m pretty sure they’d care.” I said rubbing my hand up and down John’s chest as he continued biting my ear. “Okay so, do you want me to stop? Do you want this is to be over?” John said biting my bottom lip. “No...I’m just- making a point.” I replied as I hopped off the table. I grabbed John’s hand and led him over to the chair that I was bound to prior. I shoved him down and he fell onto the seat. I wheeled the chair over to the wall that way it won’t move as much once I sit in his lap. Before I sit down on his lap, I removed my underwear and unfasten my bra. I walked over to John and started to pull down his underwear. I climbed on top of him and he placed both of his hands on my hips to help stabilize me considering we were about to have sex on a chair with wheels. John slowly began to slide his penis inside of me. I arched my back a little and gasped at how it felt going in. I let out a small moan and beginning moving my hips back and forth, slowly. John threw his head back and let out a moan of his own. I placed a hand on his throat and I ran my fingers through his hair with the other. I started picking up speed. With the hand I placed on his throat, I now grabbed his face and roughly started making out with him. John slid his tongue into my mouth and I did the same with mine. He quickly took his tongue out and threw his head back once again, this time letting out an even louder moan. I started riding him even faster and due to how passionate it was, I let out a moan, however, I moaned his name. “John...” I could feel him finish inside me, however I wasn’t done. I got off of him and laid on the floor. In this moment, I didn’t care that I was laying on freezing, dirty, concrete...I was in love. John got the idea and got down on the floor but instead of laying next me, he got on top of me. He started making out with me then slowly worked his way down to my breasts and began running his tongue along my nipples. Taking one into his mouth, he began sucking. As he did so, he slid his hand down to my vagina and began to slide two fingers in. John, however, was a smart man and knew that’s not only what I wanted so he stopped sucking on my nipples and made his way down to meet his fingers. He placed his tongue on my clit and started working. He went as fast as he could, my back arching so far off the ground. I let out plenty of loud moans, even some with his name in there. Then, I felt myself release. But, like I said, John is a smart man...he kept going. Soon enough, I had finished a second time and lastly, a third. He took his fingers out and I was lying there, unable to move a single muscle. Once I had been able to breathe, I told John, “That...was absolutely amazing.” I stretched and stood up. Barely able to walk, I sat on the swivel chair. “John, baby, can you hand me my clothes please..I’m unable to walk.” John turned to me and laughed. He walked over to wear my bra, underwear, pants, and shirt were and handed them to me. He leaned down and kissed me warmly and began dressing himself. Once he was fully clothed, he came over to me and help me out. Buckled my bra for me, buttoned up my shirt, slid on my underwear and next my pants. Then he grabbed my socks and shoes and put those on for me as well. “I love you too, Delaney. I realized just now that I didn’t say anything.” John said, leaning his hands on the chair’s armrests. “You didn’t need to say anything, I knew.” I got close to his face and left him small pecks on his lips. “Would I be able to see Hudson?” I asked John with sad eyes. John let out a sigh. 

𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍… †

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLUrUN5CqcB87hkBtuYKM6Vs_RMpcDuwaT

[f00pyf00p]

The Book and The Door

Rating: General Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Death, Car Crash, Afterlife Word count: 3085 Summary: Virgil stood. Or at least, he thought he did. It was hard to tell. Normally, when one was standing, you could feel the ground beneath your feet. Here there was nothing. No sensation pulling him down, no firmness as he cautiously took a step forward. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 6: Past/Future @analogicalweek

Read on AO3

Virgil stood. Or at least, he thought he did. It was hard to tell. Normally, when one was standing, you could feel the ground beneath your feet. Here there was nothing. No sensation pulling him down, no firmness as he cautiously took a step forward.

There was nothing around him.

No color.

No white.

No black.

Just… nothing. For as far as he could see.

He and the place simply existed. They simply were.

He shifted on his feet. Or at least, he thought he did. It was hard to tell when there was no ground, was no floor, no anything at all.

Except-

There was something.

A rectangle. Just far enough away to be seen.

It took him a full minute and 31 seconds to decide but Virgil finally made his way towards that rectangle until he was close enough to realize there was a much more apt description of the object in front of him.

It wasn’t just a rectangle.

It was a door.

A wooden one.

Leading… nowhere.

He blinked at it.

“You could go through.”

Virgil jumped half a mile into the air and turned. Nobody. He turned again. Still nobody.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the in-between.” The voice was warm, calming. Virgil quite liked it. “I am your guide.”

Virgil didn’t want to ask what the in-between was and look like an idiot. He opted for silence, a silence which he quietly used to survey the door to nowhere.

There was something about it. Something he didn’t like. Something that made Virgil feel like it should remain closed.

“You should go through the door,” the voice said in that same calming tone from earlier. “It’ll help you.”

“I’m good thanks,” Virgil muttered.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

A book fell three inches from his right foot.

Virgil blinked.

It was big, black, and thick. Slowly, Virgil leaned down and let his hands curl around the spine of it. He lifted the book up into the air and watched in astonishment as the black cover changed.

Letters formed across the top of it. Letters he recognized. The first letters he had ever learned to put together.

Virgil Hummel.

He swallowed and looked up, as if expecting the voice to speak down to him. When it did not, Virgil slowly cracked the book open to the very first page.

To a picture of him as a newborn. The doctors were holding him out to his mother, his mother who looked exhausted but happy, who was smiling at the sight of her baby-

Virgil snapped the book shut. “What is this?”

The voice didn’t respond.

“What is this?!”

A beat. Then-

“It’s you.”

Silence. Virgil bit his bottom lip and slowly reopened it.

There were all kinds of pictures. Pictures of him the first time he rode a bicycle, the first time he read poetry, the first time he wrote poetry-

He winced.

The first time he went on a date.

His hands traced the outline of his middle school self, standing with a girl named Billie who had asked him out. It was back when he didn’t know he was gay, didn’t understand why he couldn’t replicate her feelings- and when she had gone to kiss him?

Virgil quickly flipped the page.

It took him longer than he had expected but eventually, Virgil found himself staring at a familiar set of brown eyes and warm copper skin. He smiled almost subconsciously at the picture of Logan. It was in their college math class; Virgil and Logan had ended up sitting next to each other at the beginning of the year, purely by accident. At the moment they were facing each other, Virgil looking a little flustered, Logan simple and polite.

“Shit, shit, shit, shittttt.” Virgil’s hand worked through his bag but he couldn’t find it, couldn’t find anything, and it was only the first lesson but he was going to fail and he never should’ve gone to uni.

“Do you require assistance?”

“I- What?”

Logan- not that Virgil had known his name yet at the time- coughed. “My apologies. My brother says I talk in an awkward fashion. Do you need help?”

“I um… I forgot a calculator.”

“Ah. Well, I believe I can help you there. Both my mother and my father got me one for Christmas.” Logan reached into his bag and removed a small black one. “Would this work?”

“I- yes. Thank you. That’s very kind of you. Are you sure-”

“Please, go ahead. It’ll be getting little use otherwise.”

Virgil bit his lip. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Logan Berry. I’m a freshman. What’s your name?”

“Virgil Hummel.”

He smiled sadly at the picture. Burning pricked at the ends of his eyes but he ignored it and traced Logan’s face with a single hand.

They were so young.

“He must be important to you,” the voice said.

“He is.” Virgil was barely louder than a whisper. “He’s… everything.”

The voice didn’t respond and Virgil flipped the pages, past unforgiving and unending tests, past the not-accepted coming in on every single goddamn job until-

He paused briefly on a picture of him and Logan in a library. They were engaged in some conversation- something about their teacher, Virgil remembered. Neither of them had liked him very much and complaining had helped take the edge off.

“What happened there?” the voice asked.

“We had midyears coming up.” Virgil was smiling, even as his voice broke. “Our entire class was panicking. All of the averages on our previous quizzes had been below 60%. Logan and I always had managed to pull off As though and the class asked us to tutor them together.” Virgil’s smile widened. “I was terrified, but Logan agreed so how could I say no? We had just finished our first session here and Logan… Logan hung back. To check and see if I was okay.” Virgil sniffed. “Because he knew… he could tell I was nervous and he was just so… so perfect.”

“I think that went very well. You’re very patient.” Logan said.

“I bet I screwed them all up.”

“Nonsense. It was the first time I’ve ever seen Jacob leave math class with a smile on his face. He’s normally on the brink of a panic attack.” Logan looked up and Virgil and he wasn’t smiling, but there was something about him that just seemed so joyful. “You’re very good at this.”

“Th-Thank you. You’re very good as well.”

“Thank you.” Logan leaned over work somebody had left. Emma, if Virgil remembered correctly. “It's a shame it's necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if Mr. Harris had any idea how to do his job, such a large study group wouldn’t be needed.”

Virgil choked. “He is awful, isn’t he?”

“I swear, I’ve learned more about his cats than I have any math. The only way I’m scraping by this class is by teaching myself using the textbook.”

“Same here.”

“Hmm.” Logan brushed the leftover papers into a pile. “I’ll see you later, Virgil.”

“Bye Logan.

Virgil let the pads of his fingers brush over the image. “I felt so much lighter after that. He really was a wizard at figuring out when I needed help.”

The voice was silent.

Virgil flipped through the pages, through the midyears, through the endless studying, and hesitated briefly on the pure accomplishment he felt at the class average being above an 85%.

He flipped again to the school-wide party after that, and to the adorable wallflower, he had found leaning against the wall, reading a book instead of engaging in the activities.

“Logan?”

He looked up, eyes lighting up immediately. “Virgil! I admit I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t really expect you either. What are you doing?”

“Currently, I’m reading The Obsidian Tower By Melissa Caruso. It’s a wonderfully diverse fantasy.”

“Cool.” Virgil licked his lips. “So why are you here? Wouldn’t reading be more comfortable in your dorm room?”

“Oh, my roommate Roman dragged me here. He is of the opinion that this kind of social interaction is necessary to survival.” Logan sniffed. “I am not, but I find that the argument ‘I’ll leave you alone for a week’ is a very persuasive one.”

“Do you… not like your roommate?”

“His company is good in shifts. Too much of him makes me want to tear my hair out.” Logan looked him up and down. “Why are you here?”

“Patton has the same opinion as Roman and I’m too much of a pushover to say no.”

A coy smile appeared on Logan’s face. “Then we shall suffer together.”

Virgil hadn’t been able to come up with a response. He had been too busy trying to catch his breath from the pure shock of seeing Logan with a smile.

“Why is this scene important?”

“It was… He was so beautiful. Right after he smiled, he had the audacity to brush his hair back and I just…” Virgil felt like his chest would explode. “I knew I was screwed. A kind-hearted hot guy? How could I not develop a crush on him?”

He didn’t wait for the voice this time. Virgil flipped through the book at ready past the outings with Logan, Patton, Roman, and Remus, past the tests, and the fun, until he landed at a picture with him pacing the hallway in front of Logan and Roman’s dorm room.

“What happened?”

“I confessed,” Virgil whispered.

“Did you plan to?”

“Yes.”

“What if Roman had been there?”

“I knew- I knew he was out with Patton. Roman and I had made a pact that if I could get Patton to the coffee shop we liked alone, he would make sure Logan was in the dorm room by himself, and then we would both confess at the same time.”

He had been nervous. His hands were clammy, breath came unsteadily and every time Virgil thought of something to say, he came up with a rebuttal to that, how it was dumb, not worth it, pathetic.

And then the dorm room opened.

“Virgil?”

He took a breath. Turned. Met Logan in the eye. And then realized that the last one had been a huge mistake because now he was thinking about how hot Logan was and oh god, Virgil was going to die.

“Are you alright? Are you… is it your anxiety? Would you like me to offer you a distraction?”

Why, why, WHY did Logan have to be so goddamn nice?!

“I need…”

Logan waited. Because he was good, and he was nice, and Virgil just needed to rip the bandaid off.

“Willyougoonadatewithme?”

Logan blinked. “I got the ‘will’ and ‘me’ part. Would you care to repeat the rest of that sentence?”

Virgil took a breath.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

There was a silence in which Virgil wanted nothing more than to simply die but then Logan was smiling, and it was a real smile, a huge smile and it melted Virgil’s heart into a puddle.

“Certainly.”

“Really?”

“I’ve harbored romantic feelings for you for some time now.”

“I- what- how can you just say that!?”

“I couldn’t. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“You- I- I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6.”

“Satisfactory.”

“We went to see a movie. Patton picked it out.” Virgil could feel tears threatening to fall, but he paid them no mind. “We both hated it with such venom that we spent the entirety of dinner talking about how horrible it was. And later that week, Logan ordered a piñata for me shaped like the main character’s head.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“It was. It was… just amazing.”

Virgil flipped the pages. Past the first time they kissed, past the dates, past the teasing looks turned to actual sex, and finally-

He took a long breath out as he looked at this picture.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Virgil turned to look up at him, smile on his face. “You do little else.”

It was night. Not evening night, but pure black night. Logan had found them a spot on a hill where the smaug didn’t cloud the stars in the sky and the world could just be theirs for a while.

“I mean- oh shut up.” Logan was smiling now too. “I was thinking about a specific topic.”

“That must've been very strange for you. Are you-”

“Virgil Hummel, I swear to Newton you will let me finish this sentence.”

Virgil had laughed and when he saw the blush that appeared on Logan's face as he did so, he laughed all the longer.

“I was thinking,” Logan punctuated and he slapped a hand over Virgil’s mouth when it opened, “about how much I love you.”

“What the fuck, L. You can’t go from me making fun of you to you saying something like that!”

“I didn’t ask you to make fun of me.”

“Irrelevant!”

It was Logan’s turn to laugh and the sound flipped Virgil’s stomach upside down. Virgil leaned forward, wrapping himself in Logan’s warmth.

“Do you want to get an apartment together?”

Virgil blinked.

“It would be near college, obviously. And near our jobs and internships. But we’re graduating Sophomores and I think it makes sense to try and learn how to live on our own.” He paused. “And I want to do it with you.”

Virgil had to swallow three times before he managed to say. “Will Roman and Patton be disappointed we’re not with them?”

“Patton might be. Roman knows though.”

“Why?”

“I needed help gathering the courage to ask, and we both know he’s great with secrets.”

“Patton is good too.”

Logan glanced at him.

“Okay, Patton is terrible. He tries though.”

“Sometimes I doubt that.”

“Logan!”

His boyfriend grinned. The grin faded slightly. “So? Do you want to live with me?”

“Of course!” Virgil reached up to turn Logan’s face to him, one hand on either cheek. “I’d love to live with you.”

Logan smiled and Virgil leaned in, pressing their lips firmly together until even the moon had faded to the background.

“How long did you live together?”

“For the rest of our lives.” Virgil paused. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“I- That’s not right.”

“What isn’t?”

“I- I’m still living with him. I’m not dead.”

“Aren’t you?”

Virgil winced. His eyes fell shut and suddenly he couldn’t see the nothingness, couldn’t feel the nothingness. There was wind in his face, a helmet on his head, rubber gripped in his hands. He was on a bike. Logan rode beside him, Logan, who was trying to convince Virgil they should buy a pet snake-

And then there were blinding white lights. A scream. And…

And nothing.

The nothing.

“I’m… dead?”

“Yes.”

“No. No, I can’t be dead. I can’t be. I had- I had just gotten the job I wanted, we were buying a bigger apartment near it together I-” He froze. “I never got to marry him.”

Hands trembling, Virgil flipped frantically through the pages, frantically until he reached the picture of that hill, the hill that was there’s the hill where the world fell away and it was just them.

“Logan.”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Tonight…. Tonight has been lovely. Thank you for planning it.”

“Of course. You deserve it.”

“But why are we here? I mean, I’m quite happy we are, but you said we had to leave the restaurant at that moment because Patton needed us and-”

“Forgive me. It may have been a lie.”

“Why?”

Logan gripped Virgil’s shoulders, spun him around, and angled his head up towards the sky. Before Virgil could ask him any more questions he watched in amazement as burning light flew across the dark blue sky and faded in a shining of white light.

And then another joined it.

And another.

Until the sky was full of beautiful burning rocks and Virgil could barely even breathe at the sight of them.

“A meteor shower?” He gasped. The hands had fallen off of his shoulder and he whirled around to look at Logan. “You brought me to a meteor shower?”

But when he turned, he didn’t see the Logan he expected, the one enthralled with the rocks in the sky, eyes all alight like they got whenever he was happy.

He found a shaking Logan. A nervous Logan. A Logan down on one knee.

Virgil flew up to his mouth.

Logan coughed. “Virgil Ovid Hummel. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

“Yes!” Virgil pulled the beautiful ring out of his velvet black box and slipped it onto his finger. “Logan I…. I love you so much.”

Logan stood up and Virgil barely gave him time to straighten before he was rushing in and nailing their lips together, arms hugging around his neck to pull him as close as possible.

“We were going to be married next month.” Tears rolled down Virgil’s face and the book thudded to the floor. It spun and by some force- perhaps the voice’s- it landed open on the last page.

The last page, which featured two side-by-side bikers and a very drunk truck driver driving over 60 miles an hour on a 30 mph road past a stop sign.

“We were going to be married.” Virgil put his face in his hands and sobbed. His knees buckled to the floor. “I never got to marry him. I never got to marry him.”

“Not in this life,” the voice said gently. “But you always have the next.”

Virgil looked up and his red-rimmed eyes landed on the wooden door. “I’ll see him again?”

“Open it,” the voice replied, “and find out.”

Slowly Virgil wiped off his face. He got to his feet and shuffled up to the wooden door. The wooden door to nowhere.

Virgil opened it. Nothing.

He glanced back toward the book.

“You have to step through,” the voice chided. “Have some faith, Virgil.”

So Virgil took a breath. Closed his eyes. And he stepped through.

When he opened his eyes the door was gone and he wasn’t in nothing anymore. He was standing on a hill. On a very familiar hill. On their hill.

“Virgil?”

Virgil nearly broke at the voice alone. He turned and a sob choked out of him the sight of those brown eyes, that warm skin, and the neat black hair.

Logan smiled back at him, tears in his own eyes and he reached forward and-

Virgil had never felt more at home than when Logan’s arms came up around him.

[utterlyinevitable]

can do an ethan x mc request for Gimme those eyes, it's easy to forgive - hopeless halsey

this song is so underrated. thank you so much for requesting!!!

Hopeless

Word Count: 2.3k Warning: angst, few curse words, adult themes  Summary: This takes place around Chapter 1 in OHSY after Ethan comes back from the stupid Amazon. There’s mentions of MC x Raf and Ethan x Harper.

A/N: The end bits were supposed to be smut but everything I wrote was so damn cringe 😔 . Someone teach me how to write smut pls and thanks.

________________________________________

Ethan Ramsey was in the cafeteria speaking with Harper, the two attendings grabbing a hot meal for a late-night dinner. They spoke like two old friends, happily and without complications. 

Becca watched from her position at the condiment station as he intimately placed his hand on Harper’s lower back and offered to pay for her food. It was a small gesture, but to Becca it was everything. Becca would never have the privilege of these simple moments with him ever again. He made that as clear as a summer’s day during her first shift as a diagnostics fellow a couple mornings ago after his miraculous return from the Amazon by telling her “there is no us”.  

The distance. The complications; everything he rattled off as reasons to stop, meant nothing to her. Every time he pushes her away she keeps crawling back like a moth to a flame, never really learning her lesson all the same. Why can’t she stay away from him? 

How can he go about his life - doesn’t he feel anything anymore? 

To be just colleagues - strictly professional as he put it - how could anything between them be that simple ever again? They’ve seen each other naked. They’ve carried and soothed the burden of the others’ vulnerabilities. Ethan and Rebecca were never simply colleagues. From the moment Ethan Ramsey let himself sign her textbook that first day of intern year they were doomed to be something more. 

Her feet stuck to the floor and her eyes transfixed on Harper, Becca couldn’t understand whether she was jealous that she could have him in every way while Becca could never. Or if it was due to the unencumbered attention he could dote on her. Possibly it was a bit of both. 

During their time together, Ethan made it unambiguous to Becca that the last two years of the notable attendings’ friendship Harper was his boss and that meant they couldn’t continue their on-off relationship. It’s the same rationale he was using with Becca now, except she and he never actually were together just a few fleeting moments here and there. Aside from those little tidbits of information he never talked about his past with the surgeon. For all Becca knew, now that they were both heads of departments and on the same professional level, they could continue whatever it was they were previously doing. Ethan could easily fall back into the familiar convenience of being with Harper Emery. 

He makes staying apart look too easy. 

He’s still functioning. He can be in the same room as Becca without his skin crawling. He can continue on with his life as if their intimacy and sleepless nights together had never happened. He makes moving on and being simply colleagues look painlessly uncomplicated. 

“Bec, you there?” a muffled voice spoke into her ear. 

She was on the phone. In her gripping trance she didn’t realize they were still speaking. Becca came downstairs to grab a sandwich and catch a nap in the on-call room before her date with Rafael in two hours. That’s when she caught the attendings cozily waiting next to one another. 

Shaking her head to bring her back from her trance she shakily breathed, “Yeah, can I call you back in 5?”  

“Yea sure. Just wanted to let you know I can’t hang out tonight.”  

In under five minutes her heart seemed to break twice. “Oh, okay.”   

“I’m on call,” there was a trained reassurance in his voice that was meant to soothe her. It didn’t work, but she wouldn’t let him know that. Becca needed his distraction more than ever now, alas work got in the way. 

Work always gets in the way.  

“That’s okay, Raf. Talk later.”  

Being with Rafael Aveiro should have been easy. He was sweet and caring and knew just how to put a smile on her face. He had a supporting family and knew the secrets of this city that only long term locals would know. His embrace was warm and comforting, his kiss was a breath of fresh air. He was the type of boy she should be in love with. 

 Becca shoved her phone deep into her scrub pocket and removed herself from the sticky position. She scoured the facility floor for an empty room to call hers for the next few hours. If she couldn’t see Raf she might as well distract herself with more cases. 

In the abandoned on-call room she felt alone inside, so profoundly alone. She hadn’t felt this low since the day she learned He was leaving. If her current affair can’t comfort her at her every beck and call, what’s she supposed to do now? 

Laying on her back and staring up at the metal supports of the empty bunk above, Becca angrily bit into her cucumber sandwich. She replayed the entire cafeteria spectacle over and over again, dissecting every subtle movement she managed to capture.   

He’s known Harper forever. They have more in common… 

The look of Ethan’s content stature and the way his shoulders rounded as he stood with Harper eats away at her. Sadness moved straight to maddened annoyance. All Becca has wanted to do since she learned of his leaving is punch him. Yell at him. Hold him closer than physically possible and beg him not to leave her again. 

Why am I doing this to myself? 

She knows why and it hurts like hell. 

The truth is she can’t stop thinking about him. She can’t find a moment of peace in this whole damn hospital without thinking of him. Ethan is Edenbrook. And when she closes her eyes at night it’s his baby blues that haunt her - that same passionately ravenous stare the man had all those nights ago that made her feel like she was the only woman in the world who could satisfy him. 

This secret has been killing her. The secret she’s been keeping guarded under lock and key, a secret she can’t utter out loud. Her lips and tongue can’t comprehend the weight of those words. 

Becca sighed deeply into the abyss of the somber room. 

She hated who she had become in just two lonesome months. She wasn’t as confident anymore - everything she has ever known has been challenged and not in the flourishing way she preferred. He made her this way. Desperate for him and hopelessly in… infatuated. Everything was Ethan’s fault. If he wasn’t him then she wouldn’t be feeling this way. If he didn’t bring her into his secret case and take a keen interest in her person as her mentor, then she could have skated through residency as the bright eyed and hopeful girl she once was. 

She tightly closed her eyes and groaned as the forbidden words infiltrated her mind. 

I love him still.

No. Stop it. You can’t feel this way. It’s just goddamn infatuation.  

Logically her mind trailed down another path, trying so desperately to diagnose their situation. 

If this godforsaken feeling won’t quit there must be something here. I can’t be the only one to feel it. 

Right?  

This happened so quickly and died all too soon - is it all in my head? Did I make us up? 

Before she knew it the door to the on-call room banged shut behind her and she was on her way to his office. Was he still here? 

Of course he was. Ethan never went home these days but she didn’t need to know that. The moment he got back to his apartment - no matter how many times he scheduled a deep cleaner while he was away - every surface reminded him of Rebecca. His bed was missing the petite indent her body left behind, the left side now cold and firmly abandoned. His couch and bar cart called him back to all the conversations they had and every bit of sweet courage they indulged in. His kitchen held all the memories of cases they solved over takeout late into the endless nights. In his master bathroom the walk-in shower brought his mind back to the last place he encouraged her to fall apart in his apartment. Lastly and most bitterly, every window overlooking the restless city mocked him of the most alluring of views he vowed to never cherish again.  

Knock. 

The dark wooden door to Ethan’s office was locked but she noticed the faint dull light of his lamp under the crack in the door. 

He’s there. The thought shocked her slightly and she tried to backtrack. He’s probably asleep. 

Knock.

She faintly knocked one last time in blind courage, not really wanting to disturb him. She’s been on the receiving side of his tirades multiple times. Her eyes widened as her mind caught up with her body. This is a futile effort - what do I expect to get from this? What am I doing? 

Becca’s left foot pointed down the hall, encouraging her to flee before she caused any more strain on their already fragile relationship. 

Mid-turn her right ear caught the sound of shuffling and the lock clicked open. Ethan’s groggy form peering into the fluorescent hall and down at her. 

“Rookie?” 

It’d been months since she last heard that name. And something flared up deep inside her.

When his bright blue eyes met hers anything and everything she planned to say vanished. All Becca could do was forgive those innocent and befuddled orbs of his. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes - One look and she fell deeper into the endless depths of Ethan Ramsey. Without thinking she forcefully pushed him past the threshold and in one swift movement captured his agape lips between hers. She hoped sleep held onto him so he wouldn’t push her away. 

She was wrong. So wrong. 

He was wide awake. His eyes wide and lips hungry. 

Ethan’s left arm wrapped itself securely around her waist while his right reached past her to slam the door closed, dutifully locking it without letting her go for even a second. 

In their small sanctuary he was pulling her closer, his free hand now tangling itself in her hair. Becca’s impatient hands ran along his partially undone dress shirt, noticeably wrinkled from his nap on the couch. She then trailed them down to his chest to the hem, savoring the feeling of the taut muscles underneath, where she noted he wasn’t wearing a belt. Ethan’s hands followed suit and pushed her pristine white coat away. He was carefully caressing her forearm before leveraging one hand on her neck and the other securely on her waist, kneading the fabric from her skirt so that his fingers can dance along the small of her back uninhibited. 

He was kissing her back. And temporarily Becca felt hope. For a fraction of an hour she held onto the thought that he wanted them to be together too.  

Their hands and mouths were exploring one another in a craze. They were a drug to one another and neither could imagine the symptoms of withdrawal could be this strong. 

Ethan lifted her top and discarded it haphazardly, exposing her bralette - the nude and black lace complimented her skin in ways he never dreamed a piece of fabric could have such an effect. He was transfixed for a moment. Her effortless beauty was invariably captivating. Although he’s seen her like this before his astute mind never could quite capture her full essence. 

Does he still think he’s better off without me? Becca thought as she watched him ogle her. 

She moved closer to pepper sultry kisses along his neck. Her body was pressed flush against his, save for her groin which she purposefully kept a vengeful two centimetres away.  

Ethan’s eyes rolled back at her ministrations. With heavy breaths he spoke, “What are you doing to me, Becca?” 

Between kisses she muttered, “I can’t help it. You make me this way. I’m hopeless...” -ly in love with you. 

“But reliably so.”  

The truth is Ethan wanted her just as badly. However he knows full well she’d be better off without him. He’s selfish and rude - an unwelcoming presence to the outside world. Except for Becca - for Rebecca Lao he’d be anything she wanted. 

He took her by the chin moving her back up to meet his lonely lips. Right now he didn’t want to think about the past or what awaits them on the other side of the office door. Right now he’s going to let himself - let them - be happy. 

Ethan dragged her across the scratchy hospital carpet and over to the aged sofa he spent many solo nights on. Becca responded to his eagerness by straddling him and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt further, letting Ethan come into full view. The electricity that coursed through her veins when their skin touched was like nothing she had ever experienced with anyone else. It was erotic. It was vibrant. It was certainty. 

It has and will always be you. 

Things change overtime, whether encouraged to or not. No one knows that better than Ethan Ramsey, especially with the unprecedented presence Becca has had on his life. Maybe, just maybe if they gave it enough time they would fall back into pace. This brief moment has been the highlight of the last two months - a regretful reminder that he had thrown this all away. 

They’ve spent too much time apart. And tonight he’ll take her anyway that he can. Tonight it’ll be the two of them snuggled up on the couch of his office post-rapture. 

Ethan lay across the couch with Becca curled up next to him, the nude and vulnerable pair tried to regulate their breaths after ruining one another in the best possible way. Ethan pressed a lingering kiss to the clammy edge of her forehead, smiling to himself when he noticed the light brown baby hairs began to curl with their heat. He shifted to hold her just a bit tighter. Ethan never wanted to return back to their incompatible reality. 

And then there was a determined knock at the door. 

“Ethan? I know you’re in there,” Harper’s voice called. 

________________________________________

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[discotreque]

Disco 3.09: Terra Firma (Part 1)

That scene of [spoiler] flat on the ground getting just systematically pummeled by [spoiler]—punch after punch after punch after punch—was a perfect metaphor for what the themes this season have been doing to me emotionally. It’s been a pleasant, if occasionally heart-wrenching, surprise to feel something about this show besides “whoa, cool CGI!” or bone-chilling dread—but hopefully Season 4 won’t feel quite so much like it’s being aired directly at me.

So I went zero for two on last week’s predictions in the first goddamn scene, lmao. Turns out the post-TNG combadge on Vor’s early-TNG uniform was just a VFX mixup in the trailer, since he’s seen with the correct oval-backed delta in the actual episode—so that’s neither a meaningful plot element nor a cute inside joke about historical accuracy over the centuries, shame. Still got to see Gersha Phillips’s take on a spandex front-zip, though—that piping! *chef’s kiss*

I also thought Georgiou’s condition was “obviously” something engineered by David Cronenberg’s character (subtitles say his name is Kovich). Apparently he didn’t cause what’s happening to her; he’s just here to explain it. Now if only he’d explain what the fuck is up with his tie...

Speaking of the unfortunate Lt. Cmdr. Yor—he was from the fucking Kelvin timeline??? I wasn’t sure they’d ever acknowledge that in prime canon—and I don’t think the mainline Trek universe has ever been called “the prime universe” diagetically until now, either. (“Why not The Mongooses? That’s a good team name! The Fighting Mongooses.”) I especially love what a small connection it is: one guy crossed over from there, a long time ago, in what was apparently a one-off incident. (He also arrived a year before Lower Decks S1 is set—will we see an animated Vor on the Cerritos next year?)

Tilly: *aggressively eats lunch with you*

You can see how the hope and idealism of Discovery’s crew has softened Admiral Vance—his conversation with Captain Saru was so mentorly and almost tender that it gave me the terrible, terrible feeling that his character growth, and especially his soft “See you when you get back,” mean that he’s definitely going to be killed by Ossyra before they actually get back :(

Likewise, Georgiou’s goodbye scene with Saru and Tilly was a transparent attempt to manipulate my emotions, and guess what? I was successfully manipulated 😭😭😭

As a “computer person” myself, I found Adira forgetting to un-pause their descrambling program—then thinking, since it wasn’t running, it had broken—almost painfully relatable 😩 Also in that scene, Stamets sticks up for Gray’s presumable intentions in (sorry for this...) ghosting Adira (...it was right there!), and Adira says, correctly, “but he doesn’t get to decide what’s good for me”—and speaking of painfully relatable moments, I loved Stamets’s reaction there.

When you’re an adult of a certain age and you’re talking to someone a fair bit younger, you’re sometimes confronted with the uncomfortable reality that wisdom rarely comes from quantity of experience alone. To grow wise, you have to experience things that teach you important lessons, and you have to be willing to learn from those things. That can happen at 16 or 46, and realizing it’s more about luck than time when you’re closer to 46 than 16 can give you a little existential vertigo. It’s a lovely grace note in Stamets and Adira’s relationship (and Anthony and Blu’s performances!) that Paul doesn’t always have the high ground when it comes to emotional intelligence.

SPEAKING OF PERFORMANCES, just drive a truck full of Emmy statues up to the Martin-Green household and dump it out on the lawn. Every one of Prime Michael’s pangs of hurt and confusion and desperate affection for Phillipa comes through loud and clear—and Mirror Michael is just unhinged. Sonequa Martin-Green is one of the greatest acting talents any Star Trek production has ever had, she’s clearly having the time of her life sinking her teeth into this role, and it’s a genuine fucking privilege to watch her work every week. I can’t decide whether I want Evil Michael Burnham to have a SUPERLATIVELY AWESOME death scene or show up again down the line as a recurring villain—but this is Star Trek, so you never know, we could easily get both.

David Ajada shows up to collect a paycheque, ask Saru if there’s room in the A-plot yet for Book (not this week, sadly), and walk around looking like the goddamn Wikipedia entry for "compulsory heterosexuality" in yet another long black sweater from H&M’s 2019 "Gender? I don’t know her" collection. (Face it: there’s no man more attractive than a fictional one written by a lesbian.)

I guessed last week (privately; no points) that the barren planet we saw them on in the trailers was going to have some kind of Guardian of Forever situation, but I didn’t expect Paul Guilfoyle to be there, and I did not expect Carl—who, sort of like how Book has a Star Wars vibe, feels right out of Doctor Who.

(The only other headline in Carl’s newspaper that I could make out, by the way, besides the big one about the emperor, was about the USS Jenolan having gone missing—the ship that crashed into the Dyson Sphere with Scotty in its transporter buffer, as seen in TNG’s “Relics.” Easter egg? Or plot point???)

Michelle Yeoh has been so great in so many ways on this show, but she outdoes herself in this episode, in every single scene. Just like Michael Burnham, Georgiou was conceived as a one-season character—she wasn’t designed to have room to grow—and Season 2 didn’t really do anything to write her out of that corner. Season 3, though, has done a really compelling job of giving her interesting things to do and interesting ways to change.

And sending her back to the motherfucking Mirror Universe is possibly the most interesting way to show just how much she has changed, holy shit. (I guess Carl didn’t read about the Interdimensional Displacement Restrictions in that newspaper of his.)

There are two legitimate reasons for sending characters to an AU with extremely out-of-character doppelgangers: to highlight something about our regulars through contrast, and/or to let the actors vamp. The MU arc in Season 1 was grim and almost entirely joyless, and didn’t really shine a light on anything in the prime universe—it was just a generic escalation of stakes for our heroes. The Klingon War was the frying pan, and the MU was the fire.

This time we actually learn things about these people: Georgiou, of course, but also that the “real” Captain Killy has a lot more of Prime Tilly’s trademark nervous disposition than Prime Tilly pretending to be Captain Killy. (Too bad Killy’s destined to get blown up by Klingons with the ISS Disco in the Prime Universe.) It was also a ton of fun to see Rhys and Owo as deadly rivals, Rekha Sharma as Evil(...er?) Landry again, and Bryce throwing knives in the mess hall—at, please correct me if I’m wrong, a brunette Hannah Cheeseman as an un-augmented Airiam?????

Also, I don’t know why they got Mirror Stamets of all people (inventor of the evil spore drive—not, as far as we know, also an evil slam poet) for that dramatic recital at the evil ribbon dance, except I know exactly why: he’s played by Anthony Rapp, who’s a goddamn treasure. And Georgiou changed the timeline here—Mirror Stamets was still alive to get phasered by Mirror Lorca in S1—but I hope we come back to the MU in Season 5 and Stamets is somehow, inexplicably, still around—only to get killed in a hilariously blasé way again, because—again—he genuinely sucks at like, the logistics of betraying people.

Finally, those adorable little DOT-7 drones... but make them eeeeeeeevil.

Next week: We must leave behind all of that which destroys us. A mood for 2021 if ever I’ve heard one. (Plus, Mirror Saru grabs a dude—either Mirror Culber or someone else in medical red—and bodyslams said dude into the ceiling, which... is also a mood for 2021, tbh.)

[98prilla]

Reparations

A follow up to Shifted, which can be read Here! I got inspired to keep the story going, so here we are! 

On AO3 Here

The other light sides and Thomas meet with Virgil to discuss what happened, and Remus takes the opportunity to catch his brother alone, and teach him a lesson. 

“You know you don’t have to go.” Deceit says, watching him chewing at his lip nervously. 

 “I know. But I wanna. I’m ready to talk to them… talk about it.” He replies, startling at a knock on the door. 

 “Clearly. Very much over it.” Dee mutters, and he shoots him a glare before opening the door to a smiling Patton. 

 “Hey kiddo. You ready to go?” He nods, and Patton glances past him, to Dee. 

 “You know you’re invited too, Deceit.” Dee nods minutely. 

 “I know. Fortunately for you, I have other business to attend to.” With a flourish and a puff of black smoke, Dee vanishes. He rolls his eyes. 

 “He’s such a drama queen." He mutters fondly, his smile slipping away as he takes Patton's proffered hand, apprehension filling him as they sink out, to the living room. 

 Whatever conversation that had been happening ceases the moment they rise up, and he winces, already reaching to flip his hood up, to hide from their stares. 

 “Anxiety,” he looks up, surprised at the obvious relief he can hear in Logan's voice. He's surprised to see that soft concern crinkling the corners of Logan's eyes as well, before his gaze darts away, “it is good to see you again.” Well. Anyone saying that is a surprise. 

 “sure.” he replies, appreciating that Patton hasn’t released his hand. 

 “How are you feeling? Ok, that's a stupid question,” Thomas half smiles at the raised eyebrow and judgmental look he stares him down with, but continues unfazed, “I get not great, but… I was worried, y'know? Even after Pat checked up on you.” 

 “Why? It’s not like you’ve ever wanted me around, anyways.” He says it without any trace of bitterness, doesn't mean it as an insult, but the others wince anyways. He's just stating a fact. 

 “Look, I appreciate the concern and all, but I don’t… I don’t want you to just care out of guilt or pity or… or whatever this is. I don’t need you to care.” He mumbles, pulling his hand away from Patton's to shove it deep in his pocket. 

 “Anxiety, that’s not what this is. We want to get to know you. We want to work with you. I… I want you to feel comfortable, with us. To talk to us. Talk to me.” He's surprised at the almost pleading tone of Thomas's voice. He meets Thomas's eyes. “talk to me, please?” Thomas asks again, eyes soft and warm and kind and… and genuine, and he feels himself caving. 

 He knows this is a terrible idea. Anything he says can be used against him, will reveal cracks in his armor, will tell them all they need to know to tear him apart, destroy him forever. 

 “where’s princey?” he asks, voice low. 

 “We decided not to include him in this gathering. We assumed you would not feel safe in his presence nor feel comfortable talking with us were he here. And, most likely, his commentary would be less than constructive, if not completely detrimental.” Logan answers carefully, simply. He lets out a long, low breath, staring hard at the floor. No one interrupts his silence, no one pushes him to say anything, and that, more than anything, is what makes up his mind. 

 “ok.” With that, a weight eases off his chest and his shoulders slump as he collapses onto the couch.  

 “Ok! Cool, great, yeah. So. Um… Logan?” Thomas asks, clearly surprised to have gotten his cooperation. A small wry smile flits across his lips. 

 “How is your shoulder?” once again, he is surprised that that is the first question Logan asks. He shrugs in response. 

 “Alright. Better. Mostly just a little sore, every once in a while, if I move it wrong.” 

 “Good. I was assured it had been treated correctly. Still, I just wanted to make sure.” He nods, though he doesn’t understand why Logan's worried. 

 “Anxiety, kiddo… why didn’t you change back after Roman attacked you?”  

 Wow. Coming out hot, with the questions, from Patton of all people. He can feel his heart start to race, because with this answer they could do everything he'd feared, everything the nightmares had shown him.  

 “I hate shape shifting. I hate it. It’s terrifying, it’s…” he trails off, hands fisting in his pockets, hunching in on himself as he tries to keep his breathing steady. 

 “You were startled and afraid. You were too discombobulated to remember you could shift back?” Logan supplies, and hesitantly he shakes his head. He wishes it was that simple, wishes that was all. 

 Roman isn’t here. Roman won’t know. They won’t let Roman hurt him.  

 “Anxiety? What is it?” Thomas, cautious and concerned and he snaps. 

 “I can’t, ok?! I can’t shape shift on my own! I can’t change back, I can’t sink out, and I don’t have any influence or power! Get it?!” he takes a deep breath, shaking, before folding his arms tight and continuing, “I couldn’t… i couldn’t change back. Roman… roman was going to take me and I would never have been able to get away and I would have been trapped forever, kept like some pet, until that’s all I was to you, and it would have left Thomas without anyone to protect him, and I can’t, couldn’t, do anything…” He's shaking, and he buries his face in his hands. “I hate small… all of it, but especially small…” he whispers, fear washing through him. 

 “Anxiety. I am so sorry.” He feels the couch dip as Thomas sits down. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, head jerking up to meet Thomas's gaze. 

 “I would never allow that to happen to you. If I’d known I would never have changed you in the first place.” He nods smally, looking away.  

 “We haven’t treated you fairly. I haven’t. I haven’t given you a chance, and that’s not fair. I want to do better, anxiety. It shows how terribly I’ve been doing that you are surprised I wouldn’t want you hurt.” He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he can say anything, past the lump in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes.  

 “I just want to help. That’s… that’s all I’ve ever tried to do. No one listened. So I got louder, so I’d be heard, and then I was, but everyone… all of you hated me. I thought I could do it, I thought it didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, I could take it, but it does and I don’t… I don’t want to do this anymore. I don't want to be here, be me, anymore.” He near whispers, hunching in tighter on himself, feeling the tears squeeze out from the corner of his eyes against his will at the sharp silence that follows his admission. 

 “you don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to scream to be heard, anxiety. We are going to listen. We are going to hear your concerns and have a conversation about them, and address them if there is something Thomas needs to do differently. Does that sound fair?” Logan asks intensely, sitting down on his other side, carefully resting a hand on his leg. That itself spoke volumes, usually Logan was more averse to touch than even he himself was. 

 “yeah… I… it does… i'll… i'll try.” 

 “We will too, kiddo. Old habits can be hard to break.  We won’t always be perfect, but you shouldn’t be afraid to tell us so. And we'll be understanding, too, if you stumble a little.” Patton adds, kneeling before him and meeting his eyes, taking both his hands. “we're here for ya, kiddo. I promise.”  

 He breaks. The tears flow silently down his face, shaking him to his core. This is what he’d always wanted, what he thought he’d never have, to be listened to, to be wanted by Thomas, to not be hated by them all.  

 Then Patton is hugging him, and as he buries his head against Patton's shoulder, he feels two other sets of arms pull him close, holding him tight, showing him what their words alone would never convince him of. He was wanted. 

 ………. 

 He walks through the imagination aimlessly, merely walking to burn off the energy he feels growing, that he doesn’t know what to do with. 

 He knows right now everyone else is at a meeting with Thomas about Anxiety, with Anxiety, and he huffs. 

 Did he go too far? Maybe. Yes, he was willing to concede, grudgingly, that he had. But he’d had good intentions! Why didn’t the others see that?  

 And now they were having a meeting, one he had been explicitly, politely, if firmly, been disinvited to, because he would scare Anxiety. That was rich, the emo nightmare was always scaring them, why not give him a taste of his own medicine? 

 But… recalling the look on Anxiety's face as he clung to the bannister, his usual snarkyness dispelled, did send a shiver of guilt through his chest. 

 “if you wanted me dead, you should have just asked. I’d have done it myself.” He winces, rubbing his arms. He’d said it so matter of factly, so… defeated. As if he’d contemplated doing exactly that many times. 

 Of course, Deceit showed up, and you can’t trust a single word that snake says, but the fury in his eyes and the pain in his voice seemed so… genuine.  

 But if Anxiety really felt that way, why not say something? Why keep trying to crush Thomas’s dreams, why keep fighting logic at every turn, why not accept Patton's olive branch of friendship? It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing about Anxiety makes sense and it drives him crazy. 

 Besides, it’s not like he meant to hurt him. Throw him around a little, scare him, teach him a lesson, sure. He probably wouldn’t even have kept him all that long, just enough that he would stop popping up where he wasn’t wanted. 

 He's on the ground. When did he get here? Why… the world is spinning, out of focus, and he’s seeing double. There’s a pounding in his head, ringing his ears. He groans, nearly sick from the vertigo, closing his eyes and trying to steady himself. A lightning bolt of pain explodes against the back of his skull and he's unconscious. 

  “Remus, what are you doing?” he hears a voice hiss.  

 “What does it look like I’m doing, double D?” A chipper voice, Remus. 

 “Dragging your unconscious twin through the kitchen?” 

 “Well if you knew the answer, why ask the question?” an aggravated sigh. 

 “Because what are you dragging Roman through the goddamn kitchen for?” is the hissing response. 

 “Because I need a quick favor from you, my favorite fiend!” He groans, trying to roll over, trying to push himself up, his muscles barely twitching in response.  

 “He will not be happy about this, Remus.” He has missed whatever Remus said, but Deceit's hesitance makes his heart race.  

 “Pleaaase Dee? Just a little bite?” He does not like that sentence. He struggles harder to move, to clear his fuzzy head. “Hurry, he's waking up!” Deceit sighs. 

 “Fine. But I’m warning you, when this blows up, it’s on your head." Deceit relents, just as he manages to peel his eyes open.  

 He yelps, forcing his limbs into motion, scrambling backwards at the sight of a king cobra, hood flared and fangs showing, looming over him.  

 He flinches as the cobra strikes, letting out a soft whimper as fangs pierce his neck. Instantly, the world spins and his eyes drift shut, limbs heavy, weighing him down. His mind drifts, unfocused, as whatever venom takes effect, leaving him weak and helpless. He feels sharp nails on his chin. 

 “Sleep well, sweet prince. You’re gonna need it. When you wake up, we’re going to have some fun!” he can sense the twisted smile on Remus's face as he throws his head back. He lolls limply against the floor, shuddering with the last of his awareness, resigned to his fate. 

  …… 

He's tired. Emotionally and physically, he's drained and tired but… but it's a good kind of tired.  

 Despite the tears streaking his face, despite his puffy eyes and red nose and shaking hands, he is happy.  

 He feels lighter than he ever has in his life, the usual pit of nauseous fear that sat in his stomach was gone, his shoulders uncurled, his breath coming easy and light. He's… smiling.  

 He doesn’t think he’s ever smiled in front of the others, not a real smile. Not the one that actually lights up his face, that reaches his eyes, that spreads into a lopsided grin. Patton nearly exploded when he saw it, nearly lifting him off the ground with the strength of his hug. That in turn made him laugh, a full, strong, deep chested laugh that left him breathless and aching and grinning. Patton had squealed, and Logan was smiling himself as he readjusted his glasses, Patton's infectious joy bubbling over and filling the room. 

 Now, his head is resting against Patton's chest, his eyes closed as he feels Patton petting his hair. Logan’s arm is wrapped around him, pressed close against him, occasionally running his thumb over his shoulder. 

 He's never been this comfortable in his life. For once, the voice in his head telling him that everything will go wrong is silent. He is so blissed out and tired and happy.  

 “Hey, kiddo?” Patton asks.  

 “Uh hmm?” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes, not even chancing ruining this. 

 “you were really brave today. I know it’s not easy sharing things about yourself with us. But you did anyway, even though it was scary. I just want you to know how much it means to me, that you did.” He smiles softly, nuzzling closer to Patton. 

 “Truly, Anxiety. Thank you, for trusting us. It could not have been easy, given previous experiences.”  

 “yeah, but… but I think it was worth it. I… feel better. Than like, I have, ever.” He mumbles into Patton's shirt. He feels Patton press a soft kiss to his head, warm and gentle. “I might fall asleep. ‘s that ok?” he asks, slurring a bit, sleep already tugging at his mind. It’s rare he gets a full night of rest, rarer to feel soothed and relaxed to this extent, especially recently, and his overworked body is trying to take full advantage. 

 “It is more than acceptable, Anxiety. Pleasant dreams.” He feels Logan kiss his head as well, the action nearly sending him into more tears, because Logan is the most hesitant with physical affection, and he feels warmth bloom in his chest. 

 “Virgil. Jus call ‘m Virgil, Lo.” He mumbles, drifting off into a deep, contented sleep. 

 Logan is still for a long moment, staring at Virgil, frozen in place. Patton isn’t even sure if he's breathing. 

 “Logan, kiddo, you okay?” he asks, which seems to snap Logan out of his stupor. Logan inhales deeply, eyes flicking up to meet Patton's. 

 “did he… Patton, did he just say what I think he did?” Logan asks, looking more uncertain than Patton has ever seen him. 

 “yeah. He did, Lo. He told me, too. After… well, after Roman.” Patton answers gently. 

 “…why?” Patton melts at the soft confusion, the gentle awe that Logan is looking at Virgil with, his emotions not hidden behind his usually unreadable mask. 

 “Because he trusts you. He trusts us.” Logan inhales sharply, nodding once, steadying himself. 

 “What are we going to do about Roman? We cannot allow him to break this… fragile trust… that we have built.” Patton frowns. 

 “We'll talk to him. Get through to him. For now, let’s just let him rest. Poor baby barely sleeps at all on his own.” Patton coos, smiling at Logan, who hesitantly offers a small smile back, holding the youngest side a little tighter as he watches Virgil sleep. 

 ….. 

 He wakes slowly. His head is absolutely pounding, and he feels heavy and sluggish. He groans, rolling over and using an immense amount of effort to lift his eyelids. He manages, and pushes himself to his feel, bracing himself against the bars of the cage. 

 Wait. Bars? Cage? What… ok. Breathe. Focus. What does be remember? 

 Imagination. Definitely not pouting. Then… pain? Remus. His heart picks up its pace just a bit. Yes, he’s in Remus's room. Fine. He'll just… 

 Well shit. He can’t sink out. He can't do anything. He can feel his abilities, see them, but when he tries to reach, they only stretch farther away. He growls in frustration, reaching harder with all his might.  

 He yelps as the rebound of his reach sends his head pulsing again, stumbling back and clutching at his forehead.  

 “Well, well, look who's awake! It’s my least favorite sibling!” He winces at Remus's high pitched trill. 

 “I’m your only sibling.” He bites out. 

 “Bzzzt Wrong!” Remus trills back, making a game show incorrect noise. “Anxiety is my best bro, and I hate hate hate when he gets hurt. Guess what, Roro? You hurt him.” Remus's voice darkens suddenly, and Roman finally looks up at that, instinctively trying to summon his sword, stumbling back and falling over as he looks up. And up. And up. 

 Remus is huge. Or, more accurately, he is tiny. Remus has put him in some kind of hamster cage, and his neon green eyes are glaring at him through the bars. His heart is pounding now, but he refuses to show his fear. 

 “Remus. Let. Me. Out.” He hisses, regretting it as a sharp toothed grin spreads across Remus's face, eyes gleaming.  

 “Oh, now that's a fun idea, isn't it? How about this, hmm, I put you on the floor, and give you ten seconds to run?” He hates it, the fear in his throat, he knows he won’t get far like this, but it’s his only shot, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try.  

 “Fine.” He acquiesces, shivering as Remus's grin only grows and he claps his hands together, filled with glee. 

 Despite himself, he squirms as Remus picks him up, dangling by the back of his shirt. His feet kick empty air. He screams as the hand lets go, and he's falling, tumbling towards the floor, plummeting to death- 

 His air is cut off as he jerks to a stop, a mere inch from the ground, his shirt jerking back against his throat as his momentum is halted, his stomach doing flips as he tries not to hurl. He is dropped to the ground, legs folding under him as he gasps in gulps of air, Remus's cackling echoing through his ears. 

 “Not funny, Remus.” He hisses, shakily getting to his feet, dusting himself off to hide the angry tears that are leaking from his eyes. 

 “Wasn’t it, though? I mean your scream! It sounded like an eviscerated rat!” Remus wipes away tears of mirth from his eyes, tilting his head unnaturally far to the left, smile more eerie than ever. 

 “Now run.” It’s a threat, loud and clear, and he doesn’t hesitate. He books it towards the door, diving under a shelf for cover, hoping Remus won’t be able to reach him down there. 

 It’s dirty and dusty and he’s covered in grime in an instant. Has Remus ever swept down here!?  

 “Zero! Ready or not, here I come!” he huddles back against the wall, pressing himself back as small as possible, breath rapid and shallow as he tries to make as little noise as possible. He swears his heart is pounding so hard they can hear it from the commons.  

 Sink out, sink out, sink out, sink out! 

 He yelps, something sticky and a bit slimy wrapping around his torso. He struggles as it retracts, taking him with it. He flails, trying to dig his fingers into the floor, feeling his nails tear as they are dragged across the hardwood. 

 He yelps as he's tossed in the air, before being caught again, tentacles whipping past him and flipping him upside down, juggling him, until he's nauseous and doesn’t know which way is even up or down anymore.  

 After what feels like forever, he comes to a jerky stop, feeling like his limbs are being torn off. A tentacle has each of his arms and each of his legs, and he realizes he's being squeezed by an octopus, a hazardous neon in color. He lets out a cry as his limbs are pulled harder, feeling like they may pop out of his sockets at any moment, his nerves and tendons burning as his eyes water. 

 “stop. Please, please, stop.” His voice is pleading, begging, and he hates it, but he can’t get past the fear in his chest, because Remus is anything but predictable and he has no clue how long this will go on. 

 “Did you stop? When Anxiety was screaming, pleading, crying. Well? Did you?” Remus demands, his tentacle wrapping tight around his body, squeezing him tight enough he feels his ribs creak. 

 “No! I didn’t… I didn’t… I’m sorry…” he cries out, barely able to get a breath in his lungs. Tears are streaming down his face now, fear, fear, fear, pounding in his throat.  

 “Good for you. I’m not.” Remus hisses. He's lifted higher, and when he looks down, he screams, fighting again, struggling, because Remus has opened his clacking, cavernous beak, and he is slowly being lowered towards that gnashing maw, and he can’t escape, can’t get away, he is tucking his legs up, small as possible, that bottomless pit all he can see, and gods, he’s doomed-" 

 “REMUS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” the voice is loud, startling, tempest tongue making it echo even louder through the room.  

 “Aw, come on, I wasn’t actually gonna eat ‘em-" Remus whines. 

 “REMUS!” Anxiety screeches again, voice a bit higher, a bit more panicked. 

 “Fiiine. Take him.” He’s too petrified to even scream as he's thrown through the air. He lands harshly, jostling every inch of his bruised and battered body. He curls up as he feels a shadow over him, curling tight, tears leaking from his eyes.  

 Now he's in for it. He's at the mercy of Anxiety, who hates him, who can tear him down so easily with just the right words, and he shakes. 

 “Princey?” He feels Anxiety's hands gently cupping around him as he's lifted higher. He cracks his eyes open to see Anxiety peering at him, worry and concern filling his dark eyes, without a hint of malice. Anxiety lets out a relieved breath at that, eyes shifting, turning hard as he eyes Remus. 

 “Undo it. Whatever you did.”  

 “Can't! That was Dee's work. Should wear off in another hour.” Remus says sulkily. Anxiety frowns, attention shifting back to him. 

 “Ok. Um. So. I'm gonna take you back to your room, ok? The effects of the venom'll wear off faster there. You should be able to change yourself back, then. Is… is that ok?” He's surprised at the care in Anxiety's voice, how he's being handled so gently, spoken to so softly. He doesn’t get it. He deserves this. He earned this. Anxiety should be happy, seeing him small and helpless. 

 He just nods, realizing Anxiety is still waiting for a reply, and he feels the emo let out a long breath. 

 “ok. Imma cover you with my other hand, so you don’t accidentally fall, ok? As soon as we get there, I'll set you down.” He nods again, curling up and closing his eyes. He’s too exhausted to care.  

 “I’ll be having words with you and Dee later.” Anxiety hisses at Remus, and then they've sunk out. 

 …..

 “Have a good time?” Deceit asks as he enters through the door, into the kitchen. He pushes his hair back, smiling up at Dee through his bangs. 

 “actually… yeah. Yeah, I did.” He replies, glancing at Deceit sitting at the table, his book set aside as he looks him over carefully. 

 “What? Why're you looking at me like that?”  

 “Nothing. You just… look happy, Shadow. Happier than you’ve been in a long time.” Virgil squints, biting his lip.  

 “What aren’t you telling me?” he asks.  

 “It’s not my fault-" 

 “well that's reassuring.” Deceit continues unphased. 

 “but you should definitely check on Remus. He has a… surprise… for you.” His eyes widen and he takes off down the hall, slamming Remus's door open just in time to see him lowering a tiny Roman into his beak. 

 “REMUS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?” He screeches, panic making his heart rate skyrocket, because Roman is so small, he did not expect this to be his “surprise”, what the fuck, and holy shit, how long has Remus been toying with him?! 

 “Aw, come on. I wasn’t actually gonna eat ‘em.” Remus protests, and he blanches.  

 “REMUS!” He screeches, because he hadn’t even had the time to process that’s what Remus had been threatening to do to his miniscule twin.  

 “Fiiine, take him.” He lunges as Remus carelessly chucks him through the air, barely managing to catch Roman in the palm of his hand. He sees the momentary relief on Roman fade as he curls into a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut as tears track down the tiny side’s face. He looks broken and terrified, and he can feel Roman’s tremors against his hand. Oh god, was he hurt? Was he dying? Had his landing been too hard and his bones had broken?  

 “Princey?” He asks softly, trying not to be too loud, knowing how big and loud and scary everything in existence must seem right now. Roman’s eyes peek open and meet his for a moment, showing nothing but defeat and a muted terror that makes him inhale sharply. 

 “Undo it. Whatever you did.” He mentally curses as Remus tells him Dee was in on this, carefully explaining every movement he is going to make to Roman before sinking out, promising to come back for Remus and Dee later.  

 They appear directly in Roman’s grand room. A four poster bed is against one wall, red velvet drapes drawn back, a desk is against large windows looking out onto a peaceful forest scene, ideas and posters and paintings and drawings hung all around the room, murals painted on every surface of knights slaying dragons, rescuing princes from castles, majestic gryphons and stunning unicorns. He’s never actually been in here, before, and it takes his breath away.  

 He draws, doodles, but nothing he’s ever made compares to this in pure beauty. He lets out a low whistle, looking up at the glass domed ceiling, afternoon sun streaming through colored stained glass, a rainbow dancing across the floor.  

 “this is... this is amazing, Roman.” That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but he’s too awestruck by it all to come up with anything better.  

 “... you don’t have to make fun of it.” His brow furrows at the quiet reply, looking down at the prince sitting on his palm, staring absently off into the distance.  

 “I’m not? Um. Where should I put you?” Roman shrugs, swiping at the tear tracks down his cheeks.  

 “The bed, I guess. I’ll just curl up on one of the pillows, till this wears off.” He cups a hand around Roman to brace him, quickly pulling it away as Roman flinches.  

 “Sorry. Didn’t think. I won’t do that, if you want. I just don’t want you to fall.” Roman doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t move his hand back, instead walking even slower and more carefully across the carpet to the bed. He gently lowers his hand, allowing Roman to climb off onto the silkiness of one of his pillows. Roman pulls the corner of the pillow case over to use as a blanket, curling up under it, eyes closed. He lets out a sigh of relief, running his hand through his hair as he makes to leave.  

 “wait.” He turns back to Roman, whose eyes are hesitant, shame staining his cheeks red as he breaks eye contact. “I... it’s dumb.” Roman rolls over, and Virgil stops, stepping closer to the bed.  

 “It’s not dumb, Roman. What is it?” Roman seems to have more courage, now that he isn’t looking at him.  

 “will you stay with me? Just... just until I can change back. You don’t have to, it’s fine.” Roman mumbles into the pillow, and he chooses to ignore the sniffling emanating from the prince.  

 “yeah. No problem, Princey.” He pulls over a chair from the desk, settling into it, slipping on his headphones, keeping the volume low enough he can hear Roman if he speaks, turning on some soothing ambient sounds and closing his eyes, practicing his breathing exercises and meditation, trying to clear his mind of the utter hopeless pain on Roman’s face.

  He doesn’t know when he dozed off. He wakes slowly, stretching his arms above his head, slipping his headphones off as he settles them around his shoulders, fishing his phone out and turning off the audio playing ocean noises. He jumps at the small noise of blankets shifting, turning his head to see Roman, full sized once more, looking at him closely.

 “Princey?” He asks, carefully, noting how Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, his chin tucked against them, everything about him stiff and stressed and tense.

 “why’d you help me? Why’d you… why’d you care?” Roman’s voice is shattered to pieces, rough and raw, and he winces.

 “Because it wasn’t right. I… I get that they were mad at you. They’re always protective of me, and I should have seen something like this coming, knowing the two of them, but toying with someone like that? Isn’t right. It wasn’t when you did it to me, and it wasn’t when Remus did it to you, and it doesn’t matter how much I like or don’t like you, I wasn’t going to just let that continue.” His voice is firm and when he looks over, he sees silent tears running down Roman’s face. He frowns, and shifts onto the bed, kneeling in front of Roman.

 “what is it?” he asks gently. Roman buries his head in his arms.

 “I was so terrible to you. I scared you out of your mind. I hurt you, Anxiety, like, physically hurt you, and I wasn’t even sorry about it! I deserve this, deserve what Remus did, deserve what Deceit did, I’d deserve it if you joined in the fun right now and decided to throw me around a little! Hell, I’d let you, after everything I did, I owe you that much.” He gaped at Roman’s outburst, not even knowing how to begin processing everything he’d just said, except for one thing.

 “No. Roman, no.” Impulsively, he reaches for Roman’s hands, holding them firmly in his, Roman’s shocked eyes shooting up to meet his serious dark ones. “You hurt me. I won’t lie, I won’t make you feel better about it, it’s just a fact. You hurt me. I couldn’t sleep, I had nightmares for a week, Dee and Remus couldn’t leave me alone for more than a few minutes or I would start spiraling.” He takes a deep breath, the memories of fear still fresh. “But this isn’t how things get better. Taking it out on each other, going back and forth terrorizing each other, that isn’t how we fix things. I should know, I’ve been trying to scare you into listening to me for years, and it hasn’t worked, it just escalated things to the point where they became physical. What they did was out of line. Just like what you did was out of line. That doesn’t make either of those things right. Ok?” Roman looks hesitant, but he lets out a long breath, a small smile breaking through the misery on his face.

 “ok. I… I am sorry. I’m so… stupid, sometimes.” He lets out a small snort.

 “yeah. But so am I. We’re both too stubborn for own good. I think that’s why we’re always trying to strangle each other.” He answers, scooting to sit next to Roman, back resting against the wall. That gets a tired chuckle out of him, which sounds like music to his ears.

 “… thank you. For not letting Remus eat me.” He shrugs.

 “I don’t think he would’ve actually ate you, if that makes you feel better. And they are so in for it later.” A long silence, but a comfortable one, filled with quiet thoughts.

 “I think Deceit bit me.” The silence is shattered by his startled laughter, the change of topic so sudden it’s hilarious, and soon he is doubled over laughing, laughing harder at Roman’s confusion, until he starts laughing too. When they finally get ahold of their giggles, can look at each other without setting off a new round of hysterics, they’re both smiling, both lighter.

 “Anxiety… can we start over?” He rolls his eyes at the quiet question, but it’s filled with honest sincerity, warmth and a soft hope. And he finds he’d like that too, to start fresh, to wipe everything way, all the words thrown back and forth, all the insults tossed both ways, Roman may have been the one to cross the line, but they’d both been toeing it for years.

 “Yeah.” He holds out his hand for a handshake, meeting Roman’s eyes with a bit of fear, a bit of hope, a bit of hesitance, but his voice is filled with confidence as Roman takes his proffered hand. “I’m Virgil Anxiety Sanders. Nice to meet you.”

[rinusagitora]

Another empty seat in the city of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, Orihime Inoue, Isshin Kurosaki, Kisuke Urahara, Ururu Tsumugiya, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori

Pairings: HitsuKarin, others not mentioned

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 7/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families;  Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

Karin sat in the corner of Ichigo's eye all night. A dark silhouette in the corner, watching him watch her. He didn't sleep at all that night. Afraid she'd vanish the second he closed his eyes. A legitimate concern, for all he knew. Karin was vindictive enough to kill herself the second he turned his back, it wasn't a leap of logic to assume she'd skip town on her funeral day to make her start in the Seireitei as early as possible.

He snarled every time he thought about it. How easily she left them for greener pastures like they didn't love her so much.

Ichigo hurt so badly. How could she have put her family through yet another death? Put Yuzu through it? Yuzu, blind to spirits, unable to pass into the Seireitei to visit. Unable to see Karin for decades, if ever again.

Eventually, Ichigo gave up on sleep and sat up. Karin didn't move. Statuesque in her staring. Ghostly. How appropriate.

"I'll take you downstairs while I get ready," he said, pushing his fingers through his hair. "Orihime is downstairs."

Karin's head cocked. "Like I can't watch myself?"

"You killed yourself," Ichigo reminded her.

"I agreed to stay for the ceremony."

"You say a lot of things that you don't mean."

Her eyes were like daggers. Silver, sharp, fearsome. Ichigo was not afraid though. She said, "Like what? Like I didn't mean I needed help protecting myself against hollows?"

Ichigo groaned. "I'm not going to argue with you." He grabbed her by her shoulder and opened his bedroom door. "Orihime! Are you awake?"

Orihime jogged up the stairs, her footfalls pounding up every step, and then stopped before his room. She was tired, her eyes pink, but she smiled at Karin.

"Hi. I hope you slept," she told Karin. Ichigo was glad Orihime was talking to her instead. Orihime had a soothing quality about her. Ichigo had no idea how it worked, but it was damn effective, and he was grateful it be used on Karin, with an ever-present temper.

Karin merely hummed. Ichigo had to roll his eyes, watching Orihime's smile do the exact opposite. It looked like she was about to fucking explode.

"I'll see you downstairs," Karin grumbled, pushing Orihime's hands away. 

"Fix your attitude while you're at it!" he called after Karin.

He'd chase her down and make her apologize to Orihime, but he had a funeral to prepare for. Ichigo rarely had occasions to wear it to, and he liked it that way. A dress suit had no pride in it, not like his shihakusho. All a black suit meant were farewells he wasn't ready for.

Ichigo moistened his mouth. He hadn't realized he was about to cry, nor did Ichigo realize his mouth had gone dry until it felt like there was a thin film coating his cheeks and tongue.

He wasn't ready to let Karin go, as angry as he was with her deliberately abandoning them.

Ichigo's suit was too small for him those days. Pinched his armpits, bit into his hips, too high on his ankles. Showed how often he wore it. "God damn it..." Briefly, he considered using his blue suit, but Yuzu would fucking annihilate him. Ichigo would let her, too, if he was in her shoes.

Wakes were for the living, after all. Karin was just sticking around to see all the damage she wrought.

Ichigo returned downstairs. Rukia cut him off at the base.

She was pretty, wearing a black dress with a modest bodice and mesh frills for the skirt. It looked like something Yuzu would wear if she was into the whole alt scene. But Rukia was stern. Something told Ichigo she wasn't there to hold his hand.

"This is unbelievable," she said.

He said, dumbly, "What?"

Rukia pushed him up the stairs with one hand. He let her, only out of confusion. "You understand the danger you're putting everyone in keeping her here, Ichigo? I get your reikaku is shit, but she's spouting reiatsu like a fucking firehouse." She pointed at him with a slender, sharp finger. "This whole wake is a bunch of bullshit. What's punishing her accomplishing?"

"It's-"

"Do you fucking feel any better? Does it make Yuzu or your dad feel any better?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point- ow!"

Rukia slapped him. Her nostrils flared. "You're being an incorrigible jackass. I have never seen you so apathetic before." Rukia folded her arms. "What this is, is you're leveraging your power over your family and the Seireitei to abuse a sick, young girl."

"Rukia, what the fuck?" Ichigo pushed her off him. "She doesn't get to just dump us here and fucking run off."

"She's not-" Rukia stopped before her voice reached a shrill crescendo. She took a deep breath. "Allow me to return to the original point. This is reckless. You're gathering many of us here. I, Hitsugaya-taichou, and Hinamori-fukutaichou, all are wearing gigai that suppress our power."

Ichigo lip curled. "He's already here?" God, just hearing that little bastard's name made his blood boil.

"Focus, Ichigo!" she snapped. "Our gigai may suppress our powers, but what's suppressing yours? Your father's? Your friends'? Yours? Karin's?" She leaned in and hissed, "Forget how fucking unethical this is. The wake is gonna turn into a fucking free-for-all for hollows! You wanna put Yuzu through that? After this?"

Ichigo's sighed. He pinched his sinuses. "Okay, I see your point. But we've already got the hand out planned."

"I told you this days ago and you ignored me!" Rukia scoffed. "Get your fucking act together, and fast."

Rukia stormed back down the stairs. Ichigo cursed under his breath. Briefly, he laid his head against the cool wall. Could he do anything right? Anything to keep everyone safe and happy?

Reluctantly, he came into the commons, tugging off his blazer and throwing it over his shoulder. "Where's Yuzu?"

"Gone already," Orihime said. "I saw her walk out before I hopped in the shower. Didn't look like she wanted to talk."

Isshin came down the stairs then. Orihime hopped over to him, and Ichigo let them talk for a minute. Someone needed to comfort Isshin. He had no idea how to do it.

Ichigo then clapped his hands. "Let's go. People will start arriving at the wake soon, we best be there before it reaches critical mass."

Once they filed into the van, Ichigo sat in the back with Karin. He was both repulsed by her and gravitated to her. Wanted to get himself as far away from her and hold her. Brotherhood was so fucking confusing. Life was so fucking confusing.

Why couldn't he have the answers like Shinji did? Or Kisuke? All that experience under their belts, and yet Ichigo only learned combat.

Idiot. He should've gotten more life lessons out of that shit while he could.

They'd be at the temple soon, though. Ichigo said, "We're gonna stay in the back so you can watch all the people you hurt."

Karin snort. "Ironic, coming from you of all people." Ichigo ground his teeth.

"Guys... stop. Let's just have a quiet ride," Rukia said.

"No," he replied. Rukia had a point. Piling so many spiritually sensitive people into one place was a bad idea, but what was done was done. "What Karin did was the epitome of selfishness. We're not gonna tiptoe around that."

Karin screamed, "The epitome of selfishness? Me? You're the one who refused to teach me how to protect myself against hollows, Ichigo! You left me to the wolves, all of you!"

"That's not fair to us!" he snapped back.

"Fair? You wanna talk about fair?"

"Enough!" Rukia boomed. "Both of you. You're fighting like children. You're adults. Warriors. This is unbecoming of both of you. If I hear anything above a whisper while we're in the goddamn temple, I'm going to choke both of you out!"

Ichigo and his sister begrudgingly quieted. He stared straight ahead, seething with conflict and anger.

But they parked eventually. Ichigo took Karin inside and they waited in the back corner.

"I hate you," Karin said. "All this you're doing is complete bullshit."

"No one else is pointing out what an ass you are, so I gotta."

"Because no one thinks I'm an ass."

They were interrupted by a familiar face. Sarugaki Hiyori hadn't bothered wearing a dress that day, or even black. Not that Ichigo was particularly torn up about it. The black was for Yuzu.

She said, ever-displeased, "I'm here on behalf of the Vizard."

Ichigo smiled and bowed. "Thank you. Your representation means a great deal to our family, Sarugaki."

"Cute," she replied, before turning to Karin. "You're a spunky one."

Karin folded her arms. "What's it to you?"

"Got a good head on your shoulders?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "No. She killed herself. Sarugaki, what's this about?"

Hiyori hushed him with her sandal slammed against his mouth. Ow. Message received loud and clear.

"Well? Do you?"

"... in Karakura, where we're hunted," Karin said, "I died by choice. No thug, no hollow, none of that." She frowned then. "I hunted hollows with no training, infrequent help... and won, many times. Enough that I know what I want now."

Hiyori looked Karin up and down before nodding. "You'll do fine, kid."

"Thank you."

Hiyori left without another word. Another person filling Karin's head with a suicide mission... just what they needed.

"A friend?" Karin asked.

"Yes. And comrade. She's competent, but... I pick and choose what to listen to from her."

"From me, too."

Ichigo was about to defend himself they were approached by Kisuke.

Kisuke said, "Hey there," and Ichigo smiled. Kisuke was like an uncle to Ichigo in many ways. His mentor, his support, his friend. Even if his kids were turds. "How're you guys holding up?"

"My sister killed herself, so not well," he said in response.

"I'm right fucking here, asshole," Karin barked. Ichigo refrained from glaring at her.

"I know it's a stressful time for both of you, but I hope you remember how much you love each other."

"That's never been enough for her..." Ichigo mumbled.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here! Everyone here knows about ghosts to some extent, there's no point in trynna be discreet! You're just ignoring me when you're not telling me what to do."

Ichigo folded his arms. "She's been like this for days," he said. When Kisuke hugged them, he hugged him back. Soft. Loving.

"Let's be kind for now," Kisuke said. "You're family. We're family. We'll get through this."

Ichigo pat Kisuke's back. "Thanks," he said. He was trying. Trying to be good, to keep everyone safe, happy.

Kisuke took a seat afterward. Ichigo didn't speak. However, Karin was talkative.

"They helped every way they could. Perfect strangers, with no obligation to me," Karin said. Her eyes bore into the side of his head. "You did nothing but strand me."

"That's not fair to me. Everything I've done has been to protect you guys," he snarled back. Before he could continue, Ururu approached. God, did the place have a revolving door?"

"Yuzu says we'll be starting soon, and asks you to take a seat."

"I'm almost finished here," he grumbled, intending to give Karin a piece of his mind.

"The immediate family needs to be in place. Please don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be. This is a trying enough occasion."

He frowned. Ururu had a point. Best keep Yuzu pleased. After their fight the other night, he didn't want to be on an even worse side of her. "Alright." He turned to Karin. "We're not done here."

She sneered. "We are now."

Ichigo tucked his hands into the pockets of his blazer and walked to the front row to sit with his family. Everyone was so snide, so mean, when he had nothing more to offer but love and guardianship. It was painful.

Thankfully, the ceremony was a breeze. Ichigo grabbed Karin and left for the meeting place, the underside of an overpass by the waterway. He and Karin were silent the entire walk, but Ichigo was practically cooking in the silence. He was so hurt, so mad that Karin was being taken away, and that she so badly wanted to be away. As far away from the World of the Living as possible.

What did Toushirou have to do with it? Why was Karin so obsessed with him? With the Soul Society? What lies had that little freak filled her head with?

If Ichigo wouldn't see her again for years, he was going to get answers.

Karin took a seat on a makeshift bench upon arrival. She looked at her shoes and kicked her feet. They waited in silence. He sweats under his blazer.

Finally, Toushirou and an older woman, stinking of smoke and wrinkled by years of it, arrived. He recognized the woman as Hinamori Momo of gobantai. Shinji's associate. She was... uglier than he remembered.

Ichigo supposed being stabbed did that to a person.

"Thank you for allowing us into your sister's service, Kurosaki-sama," Momo said, bowing.

"It wasn't my choice." He folded his arms. She was kissing his ass, judging by the hateful stares Toushirou shot him.

Momo smiled. "Nonetheless, I'd like this to be done in an as expeditious manner as possible."

"Let's go." Before Karin reached them, Ichigo stopped her with one arm. He returned Toushirou's glare.

"Hang on," he said, "I want him to admit his fault in this."

"Jesus Christ!" Karin shrieked. "I killed myself because there's nothing for me here! Toushirou had nothing to fucking do with it."

"Bullshit!" Ichigo argued. "He had to have said something."

"It's your fault I killed myself, alright? It's all your fault! I got tired of getting steamrolled and gaslit by you so I killed myself to get the hell away from you!" Karin ducked his arm and ran over to Toushirou. "I'm going to the Seireitei. I'm becoming a shinigami... It's the only way I'll be happy. Fulfilled."

Ichigo was stunned. Hurt. Knocked off balance, the world flipped around. She clung to Toushirou like a lifeline. Anything to get away from him. 

What had he done wrong? All he did was try to protect his family and friends. Why was it thrown back into his face? Why did it backfire? Why did everything he does hurt Karin?

Before Ichigo could ask, she was gone, taken into the Soul Society to live a life free of them. Ichigo collapsed onto the hard-packed dirt and wept in earnest for the first time in years.

He recalled Hueco Mundo. He recalled dying, hollowfying. How badly it hurt. It paled in comparison to that moment.

[hobohumanitarian6]

This is a long post so please be warned!!! I need to get some things off my chest....

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING POSSIBLE⚠️

Feedback to this post is open-ended. You cannot offend me and will not be blocked.

⭐ So here's the thing: one of my late grandmother's friends just posted that her 29 year old son died in his sleep with seemingly no explanation. This really shook me I guess. For one, I used to hang out with this kid during the summers a lot. My specific memories are very vague, but deep in my consciousness I know that I have called him friend in the past. For another, many things lately have been prompting me to ask the difficult questions ie

Why in the fuck am I here?

What's the meaning of it all?

When is my life going to get better?

How do I prepare myself for better things?

Am I blocking me or is something else blocking me?

What am I doing wrong that the universe doesn't think I'm ready for a new chapter?

Am I really with the right person?

What about the afterlife?

Am I going to be silenced or speak out?

What if I can't do some of things I want/dreamed of?

What is going to satisfy me if my future doesn't go as planned?

⭐ I've been doing quite a bit of soul searching through all of this, established the framework of the person I want to be and

BAM! 🧱 💥 🏃🏻‍♀️

Straight into a fucking. Brick. Wall.

⭐ I am in one of the worst continental states in the US (by even statistic) and before all of the shutdown and pandemic began, I had plans to be relocated with my new job, a place to call home & reunited with family by June 1st. Clearly that didn't happen....

⭐ I am spending $900 a month for a 250 ft² motel room just so I am not out on the streets.

Homelessness. Can we talk about that for a second? People getting arrested for being out past curfew because they don't have a place to go, put in jail because they're in the way, not tested or treated for the virus because they generally have no insurance, giving people loads of food stamps so the emergency assistance funding is broke-

600 dollars of groceries is a lot if you have a fridge, freezer, microwave, oven, toaster, etc not if you have to buy your food from overpriced convenience stores and gas stations and fresh food from grocery stores that 70% of the price is for the packaging it comes with!!

Soup kitchens closing because they don't want to risk contamination. Who's feeding those without a hot meal? Do they realize malnourishment is the quickest way to get sick with any pathogen!?

Shelters closed because of overpopulation. Domestic violence homes turning battered women and children away because there's too scarce of resources and funding. Yet people care about big corporations going bankrupt? Please tell me what the difference is between a goddamn human fucking life and a couple lawsuits because you didn't know how to prepare for an ever-changing economy.

Thank the universe i am sheltered with minimal resources to take care of myself and I have a steady job due to an enormous company's "chance on a down-in-the-dumps contractor." This job I have held steadily for a year despite chronic health issues has been the best thing to happen to me by far in a long time. I am definitely not by any means complaining about my job or that I even have life necessities right now. Several million don't have that.

⭐ The problem with this state is there are no resources for a person who's struggling to make an honest living. I lost my apartment two years ago because I had to take a medical leave of absence at my job then, got behind on rent and was evicted without a chance to catch up. The power was cut three nights before I had to leave, and I owe a deposit on the electric company to get any type of service back in my name. The realty company who owns the apartment complex will not allow a payment plan without a fraction of the principle paid down, so therefore I cannot apply for private or realty housing and I have been on the waiting list for federal housing assistance for 3 years without a single word. I also had my bank card stolen with my ID when I was trying to catch a bus to work a few weeks after that so whoever it was made small purchases that my bank applied interest and late charges to so that is also standing in debt. Thank universe my current employer allows direct deposit to a savings account at a bad credit institution or I'd be royally fucked.

⭐ Before I made the hard decision to doll out almost a G a month just for a room, I tried sleeping in my pickup. I even took the effort to pallet it for a platform bed & make benches to live in free campgrounds, cemeteries, truck stops, boonie dead ends, and behind abandoned buildings. I had a 12V converter that I connected to a rice cooker and made a tin can stove to grill small portions of meat on a single-egg mini skillet. I kept getting chased off by rangers, cops, annoying people trying to do crack and not get their lives better, and eventually violently detained for "suspicious activity" - I was thrown on the ground, put in handcuffs, patted down by a male officer with no female present, searched my vehicle without consent & written a citation: this was 2 am, I had a campsite reservation, I was clearly sleeping & my vehicle was current. The officers did not give me their name or numbers so I could not make a report.

⭐ I have chronic health issues - hip dysplasia & hyper mobility (not severe enough to be EDS), anemia, rexhia (NOT PRO ANYTHING), pre diabetes, H.S, BPD, PTSD, endometriosis & chronic migraines. I have filed time and time and time again for medical assistance but have always been denied. Every time I try to see a doctor, they claim I have this-or-that infection caused by this-or-that disorder, sent to an overpriced pharmacy with illness-irritating antibiotics that just keep me in an unending cycle of flares and barely-managable pain. Do not let anyone privileged or wealthy confuse you - you are not treated the same if you don't have coverage. Sorry to say but it is indeed a fact.

⭐ With this job I work 40-50 hours a week, eat as healthy as I can on a dime sized budget, and cover all my expenses. Yet I cannot move forward in this state on to better things. I want so badly to have a family, to go to college, etc but I cannot do this with living month to month someplace that isn't even my own.

⭐ The emotional affect this has had on me is tremendous. I am embarrassed of my situation, and never allow any guests in fear they'd judge me. I never take any photographs, which is heartbreaking because it has been one of my long-time hobbies. I am extremely guarded and I lie about small details to protect myself. I have severe trust issues and I always hold a dagger at my waist because I have to assume any minute you'll pull out a Glock.

⭐ Naturally I am an empath and this has brought me more compassion and understanding than I ever thought possible. The police brutality against people of color and racism in socio-economic programs truly breaks my heart because as a white female and all the struggles and discrimination I've endured, I can only begin to understand it's 1000x harder for people of color especially. I stand behind your protests 100%. I beseech you, go fight for what you deserve! I will be begging higher powers for your protection indefinitely!

⭐ I have gained a new perspective on non-profit organizations and volunteer work. Some are truly amazing and their stories move people to tears; others are truly wicked stealing from the poor, embezzling cash flow for their own vanities. Please please please research the charity you are interested in thoroughly before getting involved. Volunteer work will always be appreciated- and will teach you many invaluable lessons. If you help these organizations and need help yourself: respect yourself, hold yourself high, and ask for the assistance. They will generally be more inclined to help. If you are turned away, try not to be bitter. Administrators only do as they see fit.

⭐ That's another thing - bitterness. This has been the most vile and roughest character default I've ever had to battle with myself. When you've been through the shit and you can't see the sewer (sts) it's so easy to stay in the dumps. It's so easy to feel entitled because you've clawed your way to the top. It's easy to feel angry with everyone because it's you vs the system. It's so fucking easy to give up completely and stop trying and just lay down and die. It's easy to step in front of a two ton bus, oncoming freight train, taking the entire package of extra strength Excedrin not because you have a migraine, but just not to feel a thing, go completely numb for one single second. It's easy to go down to the head shop and get a nickel bag of weed to chill and get a 5$ pizza and forget you have responsibilities.

IT'S SO FUCKING TOUGH MAN

⭐ Growing up strictly religious, I tend to shy away from Christianity or other "preachy religion" now. I hate having Jesus shoved down my throat at a service before a hot meal on a Tuesday night and the "speaker" automatically assuming I need to stop smoking crack and going to jail and get my life back on track and God will bless me when I'm in the 46% who has never been to county and hold a job while trying to get back on my feet.

ADDICTION IS NOT POVERTY GUYS

I still support people who go to church and speak in tongues if that satisfies them. I still support people who are strictly vegetarian and make a pilgrimage to the mecca if that satisfies them. I still support people who have 7 two week long feasts a year for something that happened 4000 years ago if that satisfies them. I still support people who believe in baptisms for the dead and not drinking coffee if that satisfies them. I still support people who call Jesus the Nazarene and believe that Lucifer the Dark Lord will prevail if that satisfies them. I still support people who call down the power of the moon into their plant babies and give thanks to the triple goddess if that satisfies them. I support religion or practices of all kinds.

I believe I was meant to be tolerant and be good to others. That this life will give back what you put in. That there is a higher power that governs all and it is up to you to determine just what that is to you. Not to tell people what is wrong with their lives just based on your personal story.

⭐ During this pandemic, I have done a lot of soul searching. Journaling, listening to podcasts, listening to seminars on values I'd never know existed, trying to discover who I am. This journey has included empathy training, reiki, yoga, somatic movement, feldenkrais methods, and astral meditation. I just have a list of these questions I'd like answered or given suggestions to:

What do you believe is the meaning of life? Is there any philosophers, speakers, teachers, theologians, writers, musicians etc that can help answer this?

What is your definition of religion in it's rawest form?

Do you know of any resources I may not have thought of?

Is there any criticism you can give good or bad?

Am I focused on one thing and neglecting another?

Do you have any further opinions on the topics listed above?

Do you have a suggestion of the next right step?

Do you have ideas on how I can help with the aforementioned problems?

How do I stop feeling like I'm wasting my time?

How do I find contentment in everything should I die tomorrow?

What is your opinion of the afterlife?

How do you find happiness in the midst of bullshit?

What did a friend/relative/mentor tell you when you were going through an existential crisis?

Have you felt trapped too? Due to the covid or otherwise?

Any curse words, songs, books, movies, etc of use?

🌸🌸I sincerely appreciate any feedback 🌸🌸

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 011 [A Hero’s Style]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,490 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“It’s the very first breath, When your head’s been drowning underwater, And it’s the lightness in the air when you’re there.” Logic ft. Alessia Cara, “1-800-273-8255″〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The door to the nurse’s office slid open and the boy with the messy green hair stepped inside. He was cradling his right hand, the index finger swollen and badly bruised. I sat up on the bed, rising a brow at him. “The fuck happened to you?”

His gaze shot up, a blush covering his freckled cheeks and nose. “A-Ah, it was n-nothing, really!”

My eyes narrowed at him. “Pretty sure a broken finger ain’t ‘nothing’, but okay.”

“W-What about you?” he asked, softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He refused to meet my gaze. “A-Are you okay, Winchester-san?”

The door slid open again and Granny stepped inside. “Can I help you, deary? What happened?”

He handed her a slip of paper, his green eyes trained on the ground. “I, umm… I got hurt…”

“Well, I can see that.” She brought his hand to her lips and gave it a smooch before having him sit down to wrap it up. He thanked her before swaying out of the room, tiredly. She glanced over at me. “Feeling better?”

“Define ‘better’,” I scoffed, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I could go for some tacos, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s the best I could hope for,” she smiled, patting my arm. “You’re free to go.”

I gave her a lazy salute before leaving the room. I stopped off to change back into my uniform before heading back to class. A couple students still lingered inside, turning to look at me when I slid the door open. Didn’t anyone ever teach these brats it’s rude to stare? I scowled, grabbing my bag from my desk before leaving the room.

“Young Jen!” A woosh of air rushed past me before Toshi appeared in front of me, his large hands on my shoulders. “I was looking for you!”

“Well, you found me. And you know where I live, so.”

“Come with me, please!”

It was a bit hard to avoid drawing attention to myself when I was being dragged along by the most attention-grabbing hero in the fucking world. He led me to a small room with a couch and coffee table, where three cups of steaming tea sat. Aizawa was sitting in an armchair with his eyes closed and arms crossed.

“Please have a seat,” Toshi held out his arm toward the couch and I plopped down on the end closest to Aizawa. He sat beside me, angling his large body, which slowly fizzled out to his skeletal form. He coughed a few times before speaking. “Will you tell me what happened today?”

“With the green-haired kid? Yeah, I was wondering about that, too. A broken finger is pretty crazy, huh?”

“Jen,” Aizawa shifted, giving me a pointed look.

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t fucking know. One minute I was fine, the next I’m being subdued by Magic Eraser over here.”

Toshi put his hand on my knee, giving me a kind look. “You know you don’t have to keep secrets from us. You can be honest, you can trust us, we won’t judge you. We just want to help you.”

I clicked my tongue, lifting my leg to rest my ankle on my knee to remove his hand. “That’s pretty unfair, Toshi, when you have so many secrets of your own. Trust you? That’s rich considering you won’t even trust me.”

“What are you talking about, Young J -”

“You know a shit ton more about my dear old mum than you’re willing to tell, aye?” I forced a smile, standing up and shoving my hands in my pockets. “Probably about me, too. And this damned quirk. But that’s fine. I really don’t remember anything that happened so can I go now?”

The two of them exchanged a look.

“This isn’t over,” Aizawa responded, but his voice was softer than it had been earlier.

“Sure, sure.” I waved at them over my shoulder before closing the door behind me.

As I walked home, my phone started to buzz in my pocket as a new message came through. Another a few minutes later. And another. My eye twitched, already annoyed. I swear to god if Murder is spamming me again… but I knew it could only be him. I only have three contacts in my phone – Aizawa never texts me and I knew Toshi would be giving me some space for a while before trying to talk things out.

At that moment, I was overcome by a loneliness fiercer than I had ever felt before.

‘Oi, extra’

‘Dont ignore me’

‘I want a rematch’

The hell is this kid on about now? I replied, ‘U won last time bro…’

‘Its not a win unless i destroy u completely!’

I rubbed the back of my neck, ‘Im really not in the mood for this’

‘Che what crawled up ur ass and died?’

I hesitated, stopping to look up at the sky. The blue was replaced by hues of orange and red as the sun sunk low on the horizon. We’ve only talked a few times, but I felt… a bond with Murder and, right now, he’s the closest thing to a friend that I’ve got. ‘Hey… I wanna tell u somethin’

‘Oh god i dont want ur nudes’

This fuckin’ brat… ‘I said tell not show dumbass’

‘The fuckd u just call me bitch?!’

I slid my key into the lock, stepping into the silent apartment. I kicked my shoes off, pushing them against the wall so Toshi wouldn’t trip when he finally returned home. Falling onto the couch, another message came through.

‘Well r u gonna tell me or nah’

I smiled, sadly and began to tell him my story. I told him about how I got here and about the shadow man with his weird-ass warp quirk, about Gramps and how my mother was apparently a hero. I left out names and key details, of course, but I told him mostly everything that had happened over the past year. He would chime in with some smart ass remark every now and then, but I ignored them and continued to pour my heart out to this guy I had only just met a few days ago.

It felt so goddamn nice to get everything off my chest. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

That night, I slept better than I had since I arrived here.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“I am… HERE!” The door to class 1-A slammed open and Toshi leaned into the room, standing on his tiptoes and holding the outside of the doorframe. “Coming through the door like a hero!”

If that’s how heroes make an entrance, count me out. It seemed to impress the other students, though, as a murmur of excitement filled the room. God, these kids are too easily amused.

“I can’t believe it’s really All Might!”

“So he is a teacher! This year is going to be totally awesome!”

“Hey look, is he wearing his silver age costume?”

“I’m getting goosebumps, it’s so retro!”

I fell onto my desk with a sigh. It’s like a bunch of little kids meeting Santa at the mall. I guess I could kind of understand it if he had powers but they didn’t, but they do. They’re no different from him, they’re just younger. I was thankful to be sitting behind Big Boobs – between her tall frame and gravity-defying hair, I was completely hidden from Toshi’s line of sight. We hadn’t talked since yesterday. I was asleep by the time he came home, and he was gone before I woke up.

“Welcome to the most important class at U.A. High – think of it was heroing 101!”

I don’t think ‘heroing’ is a word. Or is it? Scratching my cheek, I pulled out my phone, hiding it under my desk as I typed the word into the Goggle. Oh my god, the first result that comes up says the word ‘heroing’ means the opposite of being a hero! There’s also a mention of something about heroines. I scoff, earning a glare from the Peppermint that sits beside Big Boobs.

“Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro! And what it means to fight in the name of good. Let’s get into it! Today’s lesson, we’ll pull no punches!” He held out a card that said ‘battle’ in large, bold letters.

“Fight training!”

“But one of the keys of being a hero is~” Toshi pointed to the left wall as thin shelves emerged from it, holding numbered cases. “Looking good! There were designed for you based on your quirk registration forms and the request you sent in before school started. Get yourself suited up and then meet me at training ground beta!”

“Yes, sir!”

I waited until he left the room before standing up and grabbing case number twenty-one, following the throng of students as they rushed to the locker rooms to get changed. I went to the back of the room, hoping to avoid the other girls before sliding my shirt off.

“Woah, you have a tattoo? That’s so cool!”

I glanced over at the Punk Girl, earphone jacks hanging from her ear lobes. I grunted in response, turning my back to her. She muttered something about being rude before walking away from me. I glanced over my ‘costume’ before grunting in approval. Honestly, I had expected them to fuck it up, especially since Midnight didn’t approve of it, but I was surprised that they had kept it just as specified.

Black, steel-toe combat boots accompanying black baggy cargo pants with plenty of pockets for knives. A black belt with a silver skull buckle. A white wife beater, over which was a white overshirt, the sleeves stopping just past my elbows. I glanced in the mirror, putting my pendant under the tanktop before tucking the front of it behind the belt buckle. Damn, I really like this look.

I stepped out of the locker room ahead of most of the girls, seeing a few guys leaning against the wall outside, waiting. Fumi was among them, dressed in a black cloak that completely covered his body. He glanced at me when I approached, red eyes scanning my body.

“You look nice, Winchester-san.” He said, politely.

I chuckled. “You can use my first name, it’s easier. And you don’t look so bad yourself, Fumi.”

“Fumi?” he mused, following in step beside me as we headed down the hall.

“Don’t like it?” I asked, glancing at him.

“I don’t particularly mind,”

I hummed.

As the group reached the end of the long hallway, I could hear Toshi’s booming voice before I saw him.

“They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen. And behold – you are the proof! Take this to heart, from now on, you are all heroes in training!” His shadowed eyes scanned the crowd. “This is getting me all revved up! You look so cool! Now, shall we get started, you bunch of newbies?”

My eye twitched. Who the fuck is he callin’ a ‘newbie’? Didn’t that insult die like five years ago? We’ve talked about this, man, don’t try to be hip, you’re just gonna embarrass yourself, bro. I sighed, shaking my head. This is gonna be a long-ass day.

Footsteps came from the tunnel and I glanced over my shoulder. Is that… a green bunny? No, no, no, there’s something familiar about that costume, but what is it? Ugh, this is gonna bug me.

“Now that you’re ready, it’s time for combat training!”

“Sir!” Prep was encased in a suit of armor. “This is the fake city from our entrance exam. Does that mean we will be conducting urban battles again?”

“Not quite!” Toshi held up two fingers and at first, I thought he was flashing us the peace sign. “I’m going to move you two steps ahead! Most of the villain fights you see on the news take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run-ins with the most dastardly evil-doers take place indoors. Think about it! Backroom deals. Home invasions. Secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows. For this training exercise, you’ll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys, and fight two on two indoor battles!”

Good guys and bad guys? That’s such a gray area, ain’t it? I leaned my arm on Fumi’s shoulder, scratching my cheek. Is anyone truly ‘good’ or ‘bad’, really?

“Isn’t this a little advanced?” Frog-girl asked.

“The best training is what you get on the battlefield! But, remember, you can’t just punch a robot this time. You’re dealing with actual people now.”

Actual people, huh? Should I avoid using my quirk? If I lose control again, there’s no Aizawa around to stop me. Someone could get seriously hurt or… I shook my head. Come on, don’t think that way. Just take a deep breath, you got this.

“Sir, will you be the one deciding who wins?” Probably.

“How much can we hurt the other team?” How villainous.

“Do we need to worry about the losers getting expelled liked earlier?” No, ’cause Toshi ain’t Aizawa.

“Will you be splitting us up based on chance or comparative skill?” Should be obvious it’s gonna be random.

“Isn’t this cape pre chic?” What the fuck is wrong with you, French Fry?

I sweatdropped. These guys are really fucking nuts, aren’t they?

Toshi held his head back, his voice strangled. “I wasn’t finished talking…” He reached into his costume, which I didn’t know had pockets, and pulled out a small notebook about the size of his palm, flipping it open as he held each side with one hand. “Listen up!”

Oh my fucking god, he wrote a script for this? “This class is a hot fucking mess…”

“The situation is this: The villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise, the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes. Time is limited and we’ll choose teams by drawing lots!” He held up a bright, yellow box.

“Isn’t there a better way?” Prep asked.

“Think about it,” Green Bunny responded from beside him, holding up a gloved finger. “Pros often have to team up with heroes from other agencies on the spot. So maybe that’s the reason we’re seeing that here!”

“Yes, I see. Life is a random series of events… Excuse my rudeness!”

I should really learn these guy’s names, but how can I do that without actually having to interact with them? I wonder if Aizawa or Tosh would let me see the student files… that seems pretty doubtful. Plus, Tosh hasn’t looked at me once so he’s probably still upset with me.

“No sweat! Let’s draw!”

Yup, this is definitely going to be a long-ass fucking day.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[suh-eng]

Send to fuck

alternative title - Screw him

“Look at you; you can’t even make a proper coffee, it’s impossible to think about family with you! You are not able to take care of your husband!”

“What? How dare you! If you ever pitied me, I wouldn’t cry a whole night through in the bedroom, I’d sleep well, and the coffee would taste good!”

“Mom, dad…”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you like sobbing in the pillow and feeling sorry for yourself!”

“Mommy…”

“You are always acting like that! You just enjoy making me lose my temper! Unsympathetic bastard!”

“Dad, if you could give me some money to buy myself a breakfast…”

“And you are a hysteric, and all you do is look for a shoulder to cry on about how miserable and sad you are!”

“I think I’d better go…”

“Don’t you dare saying this! I wasted my youth on you, I gave you my life, I gave you all!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll steal something for breakfast…”

“Oh God, so what? Why do you say it like I owe you something for it? Nobody dragged you down the aisle involuntarily. I gave you both my youth and life too!”

“And for lunch I’ll find something in a trash can…”

“Asshole!”

“Bitch!”

“Oh my God!”

Frank slammed the door, but his parents wouldn’t notice it as they were busy with insulting each other. It’s amazing how a tiny cup of shitty coffee can become a reason of a huge argument.

Frank’s mood couldn’t be worse. Firstly, when he woke up this morning, he discovered that the clothes he has prepared for laundry was still dirty, because mom has forgotten about him when she started arguing with father. That’s why now he is wearing jeans with filthy knees and milk-stained t-shirt and looking like a real piglet. And secondly, mom was so busy screaming at dad that she forgot children are basically supposed to have breakfast, and dad didn’t even think about giving him a bit of cash so he could buy something in the cafeteria. Yeah, it was a shitty morning.

The classes were starting soon, so Frank grabbed his board, jumped on it and was almost ready to go, when suddenly the belt of his bag cracked and everything that was inside fell out to the ground. As he was looking at the pencil that was peacefully rolling towards the bushes, Frank loudly cursed and violently kicked the science textbook.

"For the God’s sake, why can't all of this just stop existing?!"

Crawling along the cold asphalt and collecting textbooks and notebooks, Frank realized that he was definitely late for the first lesson, and now this old woman will have another reason to mock him. And when he got up and discovered that he had torn his shirt in the bushes, he officially put this morning on the list of the lamest mornings in the history of mankind, and then he jumped on the board and rushed off to school.

Being ten minutes late, Frank made his way to the desk at the end of the class under the teacher’s disapproving gaze and nasty grins of the classmates. He opened the paragraph and zealously began to absorb everything that the teacher said quickly pulling out a textbook with a notebook on his desk. He has been an excellent pupil all his life. Ever since Frank was a child, his parents kept telling him about the importance of the good education, and they have chosen him a university in New York when he was only in the fifth grade; “there is a high level of teaching, every teacher is a Doctor of Philosophy, the best medics study there” – that’s what father was never tired of saying. And Frank honestly has been working all these years in order to pass all the exams, get the highest scores, enter that uni in New York and become the most qualified dentist of all the most qualified dentists that ever existed.

Four classes have passed at such pace. Frank was listening carefully, writing everything down and quietly rubbing his empty stomach, which nevertheless was growling so loud that it created an echo in the silence of the class. On the fourth break Frank met his new acquaintance from yesterday, Alexa, and for some reason Frank felt something unpleasant, so he wanted to leave. But he didn’t do that.

“So, how’s the test?” she asked, sounding amused in some way, with her voice of a young smoker. “Nailed it, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, nailed it,” answered Frank, as if he was talking to the wall and not to the girl.

“I didn’t. I don’t know a damn,” she let out some kind of a chuckle. “Straight A’s, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re a nerd?” she sneered.

“No, I just get A’s,” Frank hissed between gritted teeth.

“Chill, man,” Alexa snorted.

Frank felt uncomfortable. He didn’t like her; he didn’t like her at all, and that’s why he didn’t want to argue with her, it was an unpleasant feeling, even a creepy one. After all, he was a newbie, he didn’t have to be rude to anyone.

“Okay,” he tried to soften his voice, “it’s science now, isn’t it?”

“Yup. A combined class.”

“It’s not a school, it’s a whole mansion. Where’s that classroom?”

“Ugh, you do need the map,” she smiled at him. “It’s on the fifth floor. Let’s go, I’ll show you.”

Alexa lifted her bag from the floor, and pulled Frank’s sleeve. She headed to the stairs, making her way through the crowd of hasty students.

“And what is a combined class?” Frank asked, panting and trying not to get lost in the crowd.

“Don’t you know? Didn’t you have that in your previous school?” asked Alexa, turning her head back for a second.

“Nah, I didn’t.”

She quickly ran up the stairs to the fifth floor, and only when they were standing in front of the needed classroom, she threw her bag on the windowsill and answered him.

“A combined class is when a classroom is getting stuffed with two groups of students of the same year. We always have combined science, P.E. and history.”

“Ah,” murmured Frank. “Is that convenient or what?”

“It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yup. The more the merrier, right? Besides, Pierrot is always pulling something. Psycho. God, I wanna smoke.”

“Pierrot?”

“Yeah, oh, look, the class is open, let’s go.”

Alexa, all frisky, jumped off the windowsill and waltzed in with the rest of the kids, leaving Frank all alone. But he was okay with that.

The bell has rung. The last student has come into the classroom, and Frank had to leave the window and follow him. When Frank came in, he was amazed by the size of the auditorium. He has never had such a huge classroom back in his previous school. Two groups of students could easily fit in that one.

Having hard experience, he wasn’t even trying to sit with anyone and just headed straight to the empty desk at the back of the class. And while it was fine in the usual classroom, now it was terribly inconvenient. How’s he supposed to hear anything? But he had nothing to do with that.

Sort of getting settled, Frank looked around the room. That girl with long black hair, wearing it in two pigtails, was nice. With her short plaid skirt and a bright red lipstick, she looked cute and sassy at the same time.

Staring at her, Frank didn’t even notice someone who walked in the auditorium, and everyone became silent. The Beautiful Girl was sitting quiet too; she turned her head to the door, and Frank also turned around to look at whatever caught everyone’s attention.

Right by the door there was a boy. He was squeezing the strap of his bag, while everyone looked at him with some kind of an evil judgment. Clumsily shaking his long black hair off his face, he took a tiny, very shy step forwards, and someone from the back row started chanting:

The scrawny lover With a long neck Will be His last mistress!

And Frank didn’t understand why, but every single person started laughing, even his Beautiful Girl was glinting with loud laughter, what made her no longer beautiful in Frank’s eyes. He knew for sure they all were laughing at that guy, but he couldn’t understand why.

The boy angrily looked around the laughing crowd and headed towards the desks to take a seat, but kids were putting bags and legs on the nearby seats, or even pushing the chairs down. Nobody wanted to sit near him.

He went around every seat, and finally got to Frank’s place, looking as if he was asking a permission to sit there. Now, when he was standing so close, Frank could see him better, and his first thought was “this bag must be so heavy it’s gonna break his shoulder”. He was so weird, so… slender, fragile, with a glossy fever burning in hazel eyes, with black, terribly messy hair and amazingly thin fingers.

He was odd, and Frank was staring at him until he questioningly raised an eyebrow and coughed a little, as if he was trying to draw Frank’s attention.

Frank blinked a few times, as if he was trying to wake up, and desperately looked around. Everyone was looking at them and waiting for something.

The boy wasn’t welcome there. So Frank gave in to some kind of an impulse and shook his head and put a bag on a nearby seat, banishing the boy. He noticed the satisfied smiles of the tall strong guys that were sitting somewhere in the front row. They even winked at him, and Frank unwillingly felt happy about doing everything ‘right’ and not making contact with an outsider.

“Poor, poor Pierrot, nobody wants you,” some blondie drawled, and everyone burst laughing.

“You know what,” the boy said with a quiet but clear voice; it was nice and even soothing, in Frank’s opinion. “Fuck you,” he proudly raised a hand, getting up his middle finger, demonstrating it to every person in the auditorium.

With those words, he just sat on the floor; he sat on the floor just like that, taking the textbooks out of his bag and really preparing for the lecture, sitting on the real goddamn floor. Frank was taken aback by it.

A few seconds later, a teacher has come into the classroom, and she definitely has noticed Pierrot among all of the students, but, surprisingly, she didn’t say anything to him. The lecture has started.

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[sanktaleksander]

I hope I’m not too late but the smutty prompt are so hot! Could you do 12 & 16 for Frank&Billy? 🥵🥵

I’m sorry it took forever but here you are! I hope you enjoy!

Frankenbilly + angry sex and Frankenbilly + orgasm denial/edging

DONATE TO MY KO-FI

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Frank exploded as soon as they stepped through the door and into their apartment. 

“Wrong with me? You’re the moron who insists on being shot at!” Billy spat back, dropping his bags on the floor. 

“How is being shot as my fault?! You’re the one who jumped in front of me and tried to take a goddamn bullet!” Frank was seething, stalking toward Billy, not afraid to get into his face. 

“What else was I supposed to do?” Billy demanded. He wasn’t one to back down either, glaring down at Frank, jaw clenched.

“Not put yourself in danger goddammit!” Frank yelled, shoving Billy hard in the chest. 

Billy’s lip curled back, revealing a sharp canine. “You selfish son of a bitch.” He growled, immediately surging forward and shoving Frank as hard as he could, nearly knocking him on his ass. 

Within moments, Frank tackled Billy to the floor and the two commenced to trading blows, battling for dominance. They knocked over tables and lamps, crashing about until finally, Frank got Billy on his back, holding him still with his body weight pressing down on his arms and legs. 

Billy glared, still trying to buck Frank off, not giving up that easily. It didn’t work though, Frank keeping him just how he wanted. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” Frank growled, before leaning in to kiss Billy harshly, all tongue and teeth. 

Billy couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips. He could feel Frank pawing at him, pushing his shirt up and fumbling with his belt. He groaned again when Frank pulled back and immediately attacked his neck, teeth sinking into his collar bone. 

“Who do you think you are, jumping in harm’s way for me?” Frank accused, pulling Billy’s shirt off, lips trailing down to his chest, laving his tongue over each nipple. Billy jolted at the touch, his back lifting off the floor. 

“I’m the guy who cares about you.” Billy hissed, his fists clenching where Frank still held down his wrists. 

“Don’t you think I know that? That doesn’t mean you should put yourself in the line of fire like that.” Frank argued, his hands quickly unbuckling Billy’s belt and shoving down everything he still had on. Frank was pleased to find he was already growing hard. 

Billy didn’t put up much of a fight when Frank let go of him so he could suck his dick into his mouth. He was too busy moaning to care as much about their fighting, mesmerized as always with Frank’s pretty Cupid’s bow wrapped around his cock. 

Soon though, Frank pulled back, manhandling him over onto his belly. He slipped out of his shirt then as he kept Billy bent at the waist, leaning in a moment later to taste him. Billy whined at the wet brush against sensitive skin, his cock beginning to drip against the hardwood. 

“You play dirty, Frankie,” Billy growled though it was half-hearted. 

“You’re damn right.” Frank shot back, giving Billy’s ass a tap with his palm. 

Frank always had lube stashed somewhere, so Billy wasn’t surprised when he felt two slick fingers press inside, stretching him so perfectly. He pillowed his arms beneath him, resting his head against them, pushing back to meet Frank’s thrusting fingers. 

When Frank pulled his fingers out, he immediately pushed his pants and boxers down, grinding his cock between Billy’s cheeks. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” Frank breathed, leaning over Billy as he slid inside.

Billy let out a gasp, biting down on the back of his hand to keep from crying out. Frank always filled him up perfectly, his thick cock stretching him just right. Immediately, Frank set a punishing pace, wrapping his arms around Billy as thrust into him, kissing along freckled shoulders. A shiver trailed down Billy’s spine, his lips parted as he moaned, pressing back to meet Frank’s hips each time. The room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, Billy’s moans and Frank’s guttural groans and the obscene sound of skin on skin. 

“You...shouldn’t...give...your...life...for…mine…” Frank growled out, each word punctuated with a thrust. 

Billy lifted his head, his hands clenching and unclenching again and again. “You won’t make me feel bad about it.” He ground out through gritted teeth. 

Frank’s response was another growl, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic. “Fucking hell…” He was dangerously close, the heat in his belly threatening to spill over. He reached to grip Billy’s forgotten cock, stroking him as fast and hard as he could. Billy let out a wounded sound, unable to hold back, spilling over Frank’s hand and onto the floor. Frank soon followed, his moans echoing in the quiet room. 

Frank was kind enough to use his shirt to clean them both up before they sprawled out onto the floor. They were both quiet for a long while before Billy finally spoke, “I meant what I said. I won’t ever feel bad for trying to keep you safe, even if it means sacrificing myself in the process.” 

Frank sighed, turning to pull Billy in close, kissing him deeply. “I know because I feel the same way about you. I just...I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You won’t,” Billy promised, returning the kiss. “You won’t.”

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Frank bit back a moan, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to keep quiet. He tugged against his bonds, the silk tie wrapped around his wrists and secured to the headboard. He clenched his fists as he rode out the wave of pleasure, his toes curling. He was so close, so unbelievably hard, his cock standing at attention, flushed red and dribbling precum. But every time he got close to the end, Billy, from his place sitting across the room, still fully clothed, would cut off the toy’s vibrations just before he reached bliss. 

They’d been playing this game for the better part of two hours. Frank had never felt so wrung out and exposed, his needs laid bare. He would never allow himself to put in this position by anyone else but Billy. Frank didn’t trust anyone else like he trusted Billy. Still, he wasn’t sure what had made him agree to this, to let Billy deny him again and again until it became very nearly maddening. 

“Bill, please…” Frank didn’t know why he kept up with the pleading, it certainly didn’t seem to be scoring him any points.

“You’re cute when you try to beg.” Billy’s voice was calm and cool, smooth as can be. He was still dressed in the suit he’d come home in, but Frank could tell he wasn’t completely unaffected, especially if the bulge in his pants was any indication. 

“I need something, anything…” Frank murmured, trying to take even breaths and slow his speeding heart. It was a futile effort. 

Billy pursed his lips in thought, his finger turning up the vibration on the plug again. Frank let out a whine, a high, keening sound, his head leaning back against the headboard. A shiver trailed down his spine and he couldn’t help the way he shifted and squirmed, the pleasure very nearly overwhelming. It didn’t help that the toy was pressing right against his prostate, threatening to send him over the edge each and every time. His whole body was warm, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Frank felt himself getting closer and closer, very nearly falling over that edge, only to be yanked back when Billy turned down the toy once more. Frank swore loudly, pulling against his restraints. 

“You are too fucking delicious like this, Frankie.” Billy purred, standing up. He stood at the end of the bed and slowly began to undress, the suit jacket coming off first. Frank watched with interest as Billy stripped down, unconsciously licking his lips when Billy’s unbuckled his belt and pushed everything down, revealing his swollen manhood. 

“What would you say if I told you the only way you can cum if is you’re inside me?”

Frank almost felt relieved. “I would say then get your ass on my dick before I lose my mind.”

Billy grinned, stepping out of the last of his clothes before climbing onto the bed. He planted himself in Frank’s lap, letting Frank’s cock slip between his cheeks, teasing him. “I’m already ready for you, made time before I came home.” Frank couldn’t help the soft chuckle that passed his lips. “I should’ve known.” 

“You’ve been such a good boy, Frankie. Now it’s my turn to give you what you want.” Billy leaned in and kissed Frank deeply, nipping at his lip. 

When they parted, Billy sank back on Frank’s cock, a deep groan echoing through the bedroom. Frank let out what almost sounded like a moan tinged with relief, his hands pulled on the restraints again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jesus, please move, please Bill.”

Billy obliged, beginning to rise up before sinking back down, his moans growing louder. “Fucking love your dick, Frank.” He breathed, planting his hands on Frank’s chest to keep his balance. 

“You look damn perfect like this,” Frank couldn’t decide if he wanted to close his eyes and focus on the feeling or watch Billy impale himself again and again. 

“I’m gonna make you cum harder than you ever have, Frankie,” Billy promised. He reached to pick up the remote for the toy, which Frank hadn’t even noticed he’d placed on the bed. He turned up the setting as high as it would go. 

Frank nearly yelled out, cursing loudly. Billy grinned, continuing to ride hard and fast. It didn’t take long for Frank to fall over the edge, having already been so close. His whole body shuddered as he came, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving. 

Billy wasn’t too far behind, stroking his cock, once, twice, before spilling all over his hand and Frank’s skin. Beneath him, Frank twitched and squirmed until he shut off the toy.

In the quiet that followed, Frank finally managed to get his heart to slow. Billy reached to untie his hands and Frank immediately reached to bring him in for a kiss. “You’re so damn good to me,”

Billy couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. “I am, aren’t I?”