#this whole thing is full of silly info about him but GOD they still manage to make me feel bad for him

[transmasc-malleus]

this one snippet of info about nishiki fucking guts me.......always the one to help others never the one to receive any when he really needs it

[echoghost1]

The Group Project From Hell

Word Count: 3396

For: @ghostgothgeek

Summary: Danny and Tucker get stuck working with someone that they really don't want to

My final contribution to Phic Phight during the time limit (and just barely at that)!

*throws confetti and then cries*

Anywho....

You can read the fic on AO3 or down below the cut as per usual!

“Alright class, I need you to break up into groups of three,” the teacher started and immediately the room broke into chaos as everyone started to gather up with their friends. Most could just share a look and nod or point to each other. Others decided they needed to push their desks together now. And a few had to cross the room because they had been separated for talking too much.

Danny and Tucker just reached out across the small aisle between them and held hands with each other without even needing to look. They would have reached for Sam too, but she didn’t have this class with them.

Once most of the class had reached their favorite people, and a couple of larger groups had finished debating over how they would break up, the teacher spoke up again.

“Is anyone not in a group?” the teacher asked as they looked around the room for any stragglers.

One lone hand made itself known.

“Ah, well let’s see,” the teacher pondered aloud as they scanned the room for the perfect place to put them.

It was then that Danny realized that his group was the only option. He slowly sunk into his seat and was torn between actually making himself and Tucker invisible or just letting this happen.

His only hope was that maybe the teacher would just not perceive them like usual.

He was not that lucky.

“Ah, perfect!” the teacher said with a single clap, “Why don’t you join Mr. Fenton and Mr. Foley.”

Knowing there was no way out of it, Danny just huffed and tried not to glare at the unwanted addition to his team.

The odd man out looked between the two with a wince and turned back towards the teacher, “Can’t I just work alone instead?”

The teacher rolled their eyes with a scoff, “The project is too large for one person. Unless of course there’s a problem?”

The way they asked sounded a lot more threatening than any of them liked, so they all just agreed to work together for fear of the consequences.

“Excellent! Now here is the rubric and let’s go over the project,” they said with a smile as if they hadn’t just vaguely threatened their students into forced cooperation.

“So,” Danny started crossing his arms with a frown as their third member slowly walked his desk over to join them, “who are we working with?”

He sighed, knowing full well what he was referring to, “Elliot.”

“You sure it isn’t, oh what was it?” Danny asked, pretending to remember the fake name the other boy had used.

“I believe it was Gregor,” Tucker supplied helpfully and with just as much annoyance in his voice that Danny felt. “From Hungry.”

Elliot threw his head back with a sigh, “I said I was sorry about that.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Danny spat and redirected his anger at the rubric instead.

The project was way too big for one person. It seemed a little daunting for three.

Tucker, the organized blessing that he was, already started to break down the project into much more manageable pieces. “Okay, I think if we can decide on a topic today, share contact info and after-school schedules, we can have an easier time lining up any group meetups and get this thing done in no time.”

Danny smiled and pulled out his notebook and flipped open to a blank page, “okay here’s my number and address and this is Tuck’s,” he finished and tore off the written section and handed it over and then slid his notebook over with his pencil, “you can just write your info there.”

Just because the guy irritated him, didn’t mean he couldn’t be civil. Besides he was willing to give him another chance, he just had to get his annoyance out of the way first.

“I don’t give my number out to just anyone,” Elliot said as he leaned back and refused to take the offering.

Danny just blinked.

Did he really just say that?

“Dude how are we going to contact you outside of class?” Tucker asked, shocked by the blatant disrespect.

Danny was doing his very best not to let the anger bleed into his eyes.

“I’ll text you if I need you,” he said as he snatched the note Danny wrote for him.

“Okay,” Danny said with as much restraint as possible as he slapped his hand on his notebook and slid it back onto his desk. “Fine.”

Tucker flipped the page of their packet and skimmed the page, “So, topics?” he said, clearly doing his best to just keep the ball rolling.

“I don’t care.” Elliot shrugged and pulled his phone out pointedly not participating.

Danny turned in his chair so he only looked at Tucker, “What are our options?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Tucker responded, also locking eyes with Danny and joining him in aggressively ignoring Elliot.

Tucker then read through the list as if it was just the two of them. He shared the page and pointed out the topics that he liked or that he thought Danny would like. Once they had marked the ones they liked the best they looked back to Elliot to see if he had any opinions at all.

“I don’t know if I really like any of those ones.”

“Which ones didn’t you like? The ones we pointed out or just the whole list?” Danny asked and if this guy said the whole list he was going to throw him out the window.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, all of them?”

This boy better get ready to be defenestrated.

Ha, see he could use that word in his everyday life! It wasn’t useless knowledge. Suck on that, Jazz!

Tucker had to forcibly push Danny back into his seat. “I know, buddy, I know.”

“We’re on the first floor. He’ll be fine.” Danny said through clenched teeth.

Tucker turned to just stare at him, stopping his calming shoulder pats due to his confusion. “I’m still not a telepath Danny.”

“Oh yeah.” sometimes he forgot that just because he was thinking it didn’t mean that anyone else was. But so often it seemed like everyone else knew what he was thinking before he even said anything.

Luckily his friends were always gentle with the reminder. They didn’t make him feel stupid or laugh at him when he did.

“I was just thinking how nice it would be to defenestrate him.”

Tucker snickered but shook his head all the same, “Dude, no. You haven’t gotten detention in like three weeks now, don’t ruin your streak.”

“Come on!”

“No! You would just get expelled or whatever.” he said, still chuckling at the idea of Danny yeeting that jerk with no hesitation, “Totally not worth it,” he reassured.

Danny huffed but relented all the same, “Fine. I won’t.” he locked eyes with Elliot, “This time.”

“Are you threatening me?” the blonde asked, finally reacting properly to his current situation.

“I don’t know? Am I?” Danny retorted back sarcastically.

“God, what did I ever do to you?”

“You lied to my best friend.”

“I said sorry. Besides she’s the only one who should be mad, and she forgave me already.”

“I know,” Danny mumbled.

And it was true. Sam had forgiven him. She said that sometimes people do silly things when they think they’re in love. Or just in high school in general.

“And I was willing to give you a second chance but you rejected my peace offering, so screw you.”

“What peace offering? You glared daggers when the teacher forced us together.”

“And then I was trying to get past that, and then you were difficult and didn’t just give your info. It’s not like we’re ever going to contact you after this project is over? Heck, I’ll probably just delete your number the second we’re done!”

Elliot rolled his eyes, “Oh my god you are so dramatic.”

“Says the guy who took that ‘world’s a stage’ line a bit too literal.”

“Well I am a thespian,” he said with too much emphasis as he pressed a hand to his chest as he peacocked.

“TMI?” Danny had no idea what thespian meant and couldn’t help but notice how it rhymed with lesbian. He was pretty sure the two words had nothing to do with each other, and even if they did it really didn’t make any sense given what they had been talking about.

Elliot’s stupid vocabulary just made Danny annoyed all over again.

“It means I’m an actor.” Elliot deadpanned. “I mean honestly you throw around the word defenestrate like you know what it means.” he laughed to himself before giving Danny a condescending smirk, “Do you even know what it means?”

Danny felt his jaw tighten so much that his dentist was probably wincing, “Defenestrate. The act of throwing someone out a window.” He stood up to his full height and loomed over Elliot as best he could while the blonde was still sitting down, “Would you like me to use it in a sentence?”

“Code green!” Tucker shouted as he shot up out of his seat and pulled Danny down so they were both squatting behind their chairs, “You need a minute?”

“Yes,” Danny said resting his chin on his knees and doing his best to relax.

Despite that his parents seemed to think that all ghost’s emotions were fake, Danny had found that the more he had gotten used to his ghost side, the stronger he reacted to things. He never used to get so angry. Or to do so, so quickly.

Of course, his parents attributed his outbursts to teen hormones. He really wanted them to be right, but just knew that they weren’t. One look at the crazed-up fruit loop pretty much blew that theory out of the water.

His fingers threaded their way into his hair as he tried to block out the bad thoughts and focus on the mantra Jazz had taught him when he finally admitted to having emotional control issues.

“I control my emotions. They don’t control me. I control my emotions. They don’t control me. I control my emotions. They don’t control me. They don’t control me. They don’t control me.”

Danny took a breath and finally relaxed. This might not be ideal, but he was getting better at calming himself down again.

He stood up and took his seat. "Sorry about that."

Elliot scoffed as he scrolled on his phone.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You're right," he sighed, "I was being dramatic. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

Elliot just stared at him for a bit. Blinked. Then shrugged and looked back at his phone, "Yeah, whatever freak. Let's just get this project over with."

Danny stopped listening. He was honestly surprised he got past the word. The word. Why did he have to call him the one thing that hurt the most?

Stupid heightened ghost emotions and stupid Elliot for poking at his insecurities. He took a breath and tried to focus on the conversation.

He pointed lazily at the packet on Tucker's desk, "We picked a topic already. Let's just divide up the-”

Before Elliot could finish his sentence Tucker interrupted, “Stop.” he said in such a serious tone that both boys looked over at him.

“I’m going to need you to apologize to Danny, right now.”

Elliot scoffed and opened his mouth to say something, probably rude based on his expression, but Tucker just held up his finger.

“I wasn’t done yet,” he said and Danny could almost taste the simmering anger that radiated off of Tucker like the heat waves that made mirages in the desert.

But why was he mad? Why? Did Danny do something wrong? Why did he always ruin everything he touched?

“Hey, I’m not mad at you,” Tucker reassured softly before returning his ire back on Elliot. “Now I know you don’t know us very well, so I’m willing to give you a warning. Danny is like a post-credits grinch. There are just certain things we don’t do. Now, if you would kindly apologize for your rude remark we can get back to work.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Tucker, it’s fine,” Danny muttered because he really just wanted this whole day to be over already.

Tucker sighed before turning to look at Danny directly, “Is it?”

Danny couldn’t meet his eye. Of course, it wasn’t actually fine. He just didn’t want to make it a big deal. Elliot clearly didn’t do it on purpose so it was fine. He was fine.

If he told himself he was fine enough times maybe it would be true.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Tucker refocused on their project.

Danny did his best to contribute even though he was still feeling a little down. Elliot kept being the worst and only actively worked on anything when the teacher was looking.

Tucker wrote down a few things for them all to work on for the week and suggested they meet up in the library on Wednesday after school to go over what they had done up to that point.

Elliot gave a very lazy and barely committal agreement to be there before the bell rang and they were finally able to leave.

It wasn’t until they were at Danny’s locker, did it feel like he could breathe properly.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tucker asked as he leaned against the locker next to Danny’s so when he opened the door, he’d still be in view.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Tucker was quiet and Danny didn’t need to see it to know he was making that face. The one where he knows Danny is lying and he should just come clean already.

“Why’d you have to call me a Post-Credits Grinch?!” he whined and hated every second of it. “You know I hate that movie!”

Tucker bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at Danny’s reaction, “It’s just because you’ve got a big heart? And it’s kind of like it grew three sizes recently, right?” he shrugged and added, “It was either that or reference that one vine and say you’re sensitive. But I knew you wouldn’t like that.”

“Oh well, thanks for the save, Aubrey.”

Tucker snapped into double finger guns, “Anytime, D-man!”

Danny snorted and shoved his textbook into his locker a little harder than he meant to, “Don’t,” he shook his head and couldn’t hold back his laugh, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Not gonna happen.” Tucker playfully punched his shoulder, “Besides, it got you to laugh, didn’t it?”

Danny rolled his eyes, but he did have a point. Tucker always knew how to make him feel better. More like himself.

Less like a freak.

===============================================

It was Wednesday. School had ended about ten minutes ago.

Tucker and Danny had come in about two to three minutes later than they had intended, thanks to the Box Ghost and the unfortunate delivery man that had crossed his path.

Tucker sent Elliot a text once they got there apologizing for being a few minutes late and asking where he had set up.

There was a slight delay before Elliot texted back. First to ask how Tucker had gotten his number, to which Tucker simply said “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Then Elliot finally admitted that he wasn’t at the library. He said he had something he needed to do first but he would be there soon.

Then it was radio silence.

Danny found a nice table in the back corner that was partially hidden behind the old reference textbooks. He liked it because it was secluded and quiet.

Tucker teased him and said he actually liked it because it was the darkest and spookiest corner.

Danny just blew a raspberry at him.

The pair got out everything they needed and took over the large wooden table. Each of them taking turns to go over their respective progress and discussing what they still needed to do.

It wasn’t until the librarian came around told them that she needed to close up for the night, did they realize that Elliot never came.

“What are the odds he hasn’t done anything yet?” Danny asked as he packed his things back into his backpack.

“Happy thoughts, Danny. Let’s just focus on our own work.”

Danny just nodded and made sure to securely zip his bag shut while also maintaining the structural integrity of it. It wouldn’t do him any good if he broke the zipper.

Sure he’d still be able to get in if he needed to, thanks to his ghost powers, but it would have been because of his ghost powers that the bag was broken. Also, it would be hard to explain why, or how, he was still using a broken bag to those who didn’t know his secret.

Which would be pretty much everyone.

“So you wanna go to my place and continue? Mom’s making lasagna tonight and it’ll probably be ready by the time we get there!” he said as he fidgeted with excitement.

He did love Mrs. Foley’s double meat lasagna. “Yeah alright, I just gotta call home first.”

“Yes!” Tucker fist pumped and sent a quick text to his mom.

===============================================

Danny didn’t mean to fall asleep at Tucker’s on a school night, he really didn’t.

On one hand, they ended up getting a lot done on their project. He got to eat so much yummy food that never once had a chance at coming back to life and trying to eat him, which is his favorite quality in food. His second favorite quality is, being not poison.

Also, Tucker’s house was always way warmer than his house ever was, and it was nice to just curl up in a pile of pillows and relax, because nothing in that house was designed specifically to kill him. It was a lovely little vacation.

The only downside was he hadn’t packed any clothes so all he had to wear was what he had come in. And wearing the same outfit two days in a row in the middle of the week, wasn’t exactly a good look.

Tucker was nice enough to offer his closet, which Danny happily accepted. Only Tucker had grown a few inches in the last year or so and was now taller than Danny. Also a little wider in the shoulders.

Good thing Danny liked to wear baggy clothes!

Of course, Dash made fun of him for his ill-fitting outfit almost immediately. It was like the guy had some sort of sixth sense that always picked up Danny no matter where he was.

When they got to their group project class, Tucker mentioned that they had gotten a lot done and if Elliot could type up what he had and send it to Tucker he could add it to the slide show they had started.

Elliot just shrugged and said he’d send it.

Tucker cleared his throat and added, “Please do so before midnight on Friday.” then he texted him his email address so he had no excuse not to.

“Yeah okay, whatever.”

===============================================

It was Saturday night. Danny was lounging on Tucker’s bed while he waited for Tucker to come back from the bathroom.

The notification ding went off on Tucker’s phone but Danny knew better than to touch the phone without Tucker’s permission. That didn’t stop him from floating over the phone a few inches and just looking at the screen while it was still lit.

Elliot had finally emailed his portion of the project.

Well wasn’t that nice of him to do so at, Danny looked at the time and saw it was past ten.

Lovely.

It was even better when Tucker got to open the email and the file he sent was just a text file.

“Why would you do that?” Tucker asked as he just stared at the icon, “In what world is that necessary?”

They were both glued to the screen and held their breath as Tucker clicked download and opened the file.

It was the most barebones weak excuse of his share that he could have possibly given.

“We aren’t sleeping this weekend, are we?” Danny asked knowing full well what the answer was.

“I should have let you throw him out of the window when I had the chance.”

[officerjennie]

Goodbye Kisses

(Prompted by myself on my birthday because help, I love them so much T^T) (Ko-fi and commission info in my blog header) 

--

It mattered not how many times they said goodbye, each time still broke another piece of his heart.

There were times Jaskier had ample warning. Days or even weeks to steel himself, to play the brilliant actor he prided himself to be. Ample time to remind himself quite sternly what he was to his witcher, his noble white wolf, the man who had swept into his life with all the flair and cheer of a beaten and tired mutt and had promptly and oh so very rudely stolen his heart.

A heart that many had attempted to steal in the past, might he add.

Those blessed days, hours, weeks - whatever time he had to fish his heart back from his sleeves and shove it back in his chest to be guarded like it had never wanted to be - they were all that saved him from certain embarrassment and rejection. For every single time, no matter that he knew it would end, he allowed himself to be a fool and believe that their journey would go onward. That every morning he could wake up bleary and far too late to his witcher grousing over their late start. That every afternoon would find him practicing his lute and songs while he danced his way down whatever trail laid before them, following after Roach’s twitching tail and the regal visage of Geralt, the most dearest man to his heart.

It was not one of those times, however.

“Leaving,” was the only grunted explanation he got as Geralt brushed past him, Jaskier left blinking after him where he stood still in the doorway to the room they’d planned on sharing for the next few days at the very least. It took far too many seconds for his thoughts to catch up to him, the silly grin he’d had frozen on his lips, laughter caught and dying in his throat.

“Wh- hold on, wait! Garelt!” Jaskier danced a little in the doorway, unsure of whether to take off after his companion given his own stuff was still strewn all about their room - everything but the lute strapped to his back and the smaller of his coin purses that he’d kept to collect the connected bar’s patron’s generous donations at his performance. With great effort he stopped staring after him, sweeping wide eyes about the room, already mourning the loss of what he couldn’t grab in the next 30 seconds: the blackberry wine he’d been planning on breaking out this very night would have to be abandoned, as well as much of his clothes - oh, it would cost him a small fortune to replace them all, and his heart cried even as he ran about and scooped up what little he could before stumbling right back out the door, regretting that last pint of ale as it left him fumbly and even dropping some of the precious few things he’d managed to stuff in his arms.

It was a miracle in and of itself that he didn’t bumble into anyone on his rush down the hall and stairs, and another that he managed the door by himself with his hands and arms otherwise occupied. At least no grace from the gods was required to find Geralt, all Jaskier needed to do was head straight for the stable that was attached to the inn.

“Geralt!”

He spotted his witcher just as Geralt was swinging his leg up and over Roach, the mare already saddled and packed and grouchy from being awoken far too early for her liking. She tried her best to reach back and nip at her burden even as Geralt nudged her forward, stopping her only after a few feet when Jaskier stumbled in front of them.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Gesturing with his arms so full of precious belongings was a bad idea but that didn’t occur to him until after he’d already done it, and attempting to catch the turquoise and emerald silk shirt only made him drop something else. “Dropping everything I own in the muck and grime is what I’m doing apparently - that was a gift, you know! A gift from my mother on her sick bed. Sure, sure, she recovered, but that’s not the point of things, Geralt, some warning would have been nice!”

“I’m leaving.”

“Oh, well darling, I didn’t notice, what with the whole storming out and straddling Ms. Nips-A-Lot - hey! No!” Roach knew exactly when he sassed about her and proved the name right, Jaskier barely dodging one of her hard nips that was aimed at his shoulder. It was luck and luck alone that kept all the rest of his things in his arms and far away from the mud below. “I meant advanced warning, Geralt, half a minute is not enough time for me to pack. And the least you could do is help me!”

Geralt grunted at him, and it was only thanks to their years of travelling together off and on that Jaskier could recognize it as his impatient grunt - which only made him want to huff indignantly, considering it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get ready at the drop of a hat. But before he could properly huff at him Geralt slid off of Roach to help him.

Or...not. Instead of taking any of his stuff, or maybe opening one of the packs Roach was carrying, Geralt just oh so helpfully clapped Jaskier on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he leaned down to meet Jaskier’s gaze - and just that simple act of holding his gaze had Jaskier’s heart in his throat. Melitele help him but those eyes would be the death of him. He could drown in the abyss of them, captured and held prisoner but hardly against his will, lost in a sea of amber and warmth many would think so unlike his dear withcer-

“I’m leaving, Jaskier. Not you.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Jaskier said, the fluttering thing in his stomach dropping like a stone. Well. Just like his witcher to put a damper on things.

“Too dangerous.”

“How is it any more dangerous than what we’ve already been through together?” Jaskier tried to not get too distracted when Geralt’s hand slipped from his shoulder and down his arm, still firm on him, making it unfairly difficult to muster up a decent argument as Geralt took his elbow and started to guide him back to the tavern entrance. “When we met I followed you straight towards a devil, remember? Sure it wasn’t an actual devil but neither of us knew any better-”

“Devils aren’t real, Jaskier.”

“-and I still followed you right along, and ended up perfectly fine! Oh, and remember the dragon? A dragon, Geralt, how on earth could anything out here in the middle of bloody nowhere could be more dangerous than a DRAGON?”

Geralt gave him a look that suggested he was being difficult on purpose. “I don’t slay dragons. There was never going to be a fight.”

Any further protests were put to a stop before they could continue, hardly even a stammered out start passing Jaskier’s lips before Geralt was opening the tavern door for him, giving a squeeze to his arm before dropping the contact between them. “Stay here, and out of trouble if you can manage it. I’ll come back.”

Normally, Jaskier would have made a fuss over the insinuation that he might gravitate towards trouble - because, really, it was the other way around. Not that the end results mattered much which way it worked. It came down to semantics, really, but Jaskier still would not have taken the insinuation without at least trying to set the record straight a little. But…

But his heart had not been normal of late, nor had his mind. And with no time to prepare for Geralt’s rather sudden departure he’d had no time to school his reactions, no time to remind himself how he’d normally do things: what he’d say, how exactly his hand or arm would flourish in gesture, what emotions he should allow into his tone without raising any sort of suspicion.

So it wasn’t exasperation that colored his tone, no played up hurt nor frustration to punctuate his words when Jaskier half-turned to look up at his witcher, breath almost catching at how even on a dreary day like this Geralt managed to look neigh on ethereal in his beauty - when all Jaskier managed to ask him was “When?”

When would he again be allowed to get lost within that heated gaze, time having little meaning, the world fading into the distance? When would his nights end in laughter rather than the drop after a performance, his high from the crowd leaving him at an incredible low, alone without his dearest witcher to keep his thoughts at bay and far away from the darkened sea they went to on their own? When would he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Geralt was safe and relatively unharmed, unmaimed at the very least, able to return to him at all?

“When I’m done.”

Ever the romantic to match his thoughts. Jaskier huffed out air through his nose, readjusting his grip on the mountain of things in his arms, Geralt’s blunt honesty cutting through his rather melodramatic mode decently enough. Not well enough to have him rid of all the rather sticky feelings that loved to pop up unbidden, but without the clouds that usually left him dampened in their presence all those sticky feelings left Jaskier feeling rather...wistful, and, dare he say, whimsical.

Perhaps his mother was onto something when she said his moods changed less like seasons and more flittered by like insects swarming in the summer heat.

If he had had perhaps even an hour to prepare for this goodbye, Jaskier would not have done anything so far removed from their normal interactions and behavior. But that time had not been given to him, and the warmth from Geralt’s hand could still be felt on his arm, and Jaskier’s heart was skipping beats in his chest knowing it was concern that had his witcher so set on going it alone - and seeing it clear as the dawn itself in those beautiful eyes of gold.

With as much grace as he could muster with his arms ladened so, Jaskier closed the short distance between him and his friend. He couldn’t tell if it was shocked surprise that held Geralt still or not, or what kept him from jerking away as he’d always expected him to if Jaskier had ever dared to be so bold, but Geralt did not move back - and Jaskier found his lips brushing against the silver stubble on his cheek, rough against his own chapped skin but it barely registered against the thundering heartbeat that sounded in his ears.

A light kiss to his cheek was all he managed, and it amazed him long into the night that he found his voice past it all. “Be careful, darling.” Being so close to him Jaskier saw Geralt’s breathing stutter at the endearment, and like a good storyteller he took careful note of that and squirreled it away for later, leaning back away just enough to look up and catch the way Geralt was looking at him. “I’d hate to be a bard with no company.”

Upon reflection, getting to see his oh so completely and frustratingly composed witcher shift his weight nervously after such a simple thing was more than worth the slip in his own emotional composure. Even the muddied belongings were worth it when weighed against the delayed grunt of response, the flickering gaze towards Jaskier and away again, and the sudden start to Geralt’s movements that finally started him back towards Roach without another word.

Maybe goodbyes weren’t the worst after all if they involved such an adorably flustered boy (and, Jaskier thought, his own gaze flickering downward shamelessly, it never really was a burden to watch him walk away).

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Band of Brothers Greetings, Part 2

Cute/charming things thay say when they walk into a room and see you/you walk into a room and they see you

Speirs:

Ok, first off- the moment he walks into a room, any room, he scans to see if you’re there, and if you are what you’re doing. 

He’s always done it, but since things between the two of you have gotten a bit steamy you find yourself catching him doing it ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME.

Like Ronald, you’re vv handsome and smoldery but YOU AREN’T SUBTLE IN THE SLIGHTEST.

Boi’s head is literally on a swivel until he finds you, straight up ignoring the person trying to talk to him until he sees that you’re there before impatiently returning his attention to whatever NIxon is saying (you know, BC OH YEAH not only are we at work but our work is war whoopsies could you repeat that, Nix i was lost in my handsome deathwish prince’s eyes?)

He’s always careful to read your body language to see how you're feeling, and based on that and the context of where y’all are he decides how (and if) to approach you.

His own feelings overwhelm him so it’s easier for him to focus on how you’re feeling

(Weirdly enough, you can read his feelings better than he can read his feelings sometimes.)

You weirdos end up staring at each other for way too long, entire conversations flowing between you two with little more than a lift of an eyebrow and a tilt of the head.

Bill and Babe had a game where they would see who between them could hold their breath through more of yours and Speirs’s weird hive mind-meld, the loser getting two freebies from the other’s rations.

Soon, more people joined in, and one day Speirs walked in while Peacock and LIpton were discussing the formation they wanted the camp set up in and half of the guys simultaneously took a deep breath through their noses to get a lungful of air 

When Lipton looked back out to the group of listening soldiers, he was disturbed to see several of his friends red or blue faced and looking between you and Speirs and each other like a tennis match

One look from Speirs put a stop to that game for a good month.

It only started up again because they saw Ron storm into the med bay and kiss you full on the mouth when you were alone after a soldier had punched you in that nose during Market Garden and left you horrifically blood-soaked and he’d thought you’d been shot.

Then the game turned into who could catch Ron showing human emotions towards you, with more points being given to the more softboy the action.

In an effort to keep THE BOYS™ focused during meetings, you and Ron eventually decided it’d be best to just stand by each other whenever you were in a room together, bc while you both are soft for each other you still get that you can’t be too distracted.

Well, you decided that.

If anything, Ron now has a new favorite game- seeing how long you could stay focused with his fingers running up and down your thigh while sitting together.

He may have slipped his hand beneath your waistband a few times and gotten you off during one of Nix’s intelligence briefings, whispering that you were being so good for him the entire time

and you may have retaliated once by getting him so worked up that he almost came in his pants like a teenager while surrounded by his sleeping men before giving him an overly sweet look before slipping away.

He makes you pay for it later, don’t worry :)

Martin:

MY ANGER BB

SO GLARE-Y, SO FROWN

That is...until he sees you

Then the furrow in his brow softens, and a knowing smile breaks across his face and he either comes to be by you or (a la Bull Randleman) he will raise him arm to show you that there is a you-sized space that needs filling (hurry plz it makes him feel better to touch you.)

He’s not going to show PDA when y’all’re busy- bc he’s good and what he does and you’re good at what you do but that doesn’t mean you can just not pay attention if important info is benign shared. 

If he thinks you aren’t paying enough attention he’ll let you know right away.

Or just glare at the thing distracting you until it eventually relents or someone hits his arm and tells him to stop glaring at the pretty flowers y’n’s looking at they’ll burst into flame and then she’ll be sad

BUt homeboy is not afraid to have you lean against him, or sit in his lap as you both get ready to do whatever it is you have to do.

If the lot of you are just hanging out- he’s much more relaxed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek or temple before returning his attention to whatever he had been doing- arms wrapping around you as he catches you up on whatever you’d missed

BC HE WOULD WANT YOU TO BE INCLUDED IN EVERYTHING HE DOES (as long as it’s not too dangerous, obvi)

“But John, you’re going on the patrol—!” “Yeah, cause if you’re not going SOMEONE has to make sure these boys don’t get themselves killed. Think it’d be rude to leave them to fend for themselves...”

“But i could go-” “NO you can’t, shut up. Now listen to my plan and tell me what you think…”

He knows how good you are at your job, and it makes him want to be better at his job so he can make sure to be there for you.

I also feel like THE BOYS™ would sometimes be surprised to see Johnny “It may be a bitchface but I’m not resting” Martin being a lil soft with you, and would sometimes stare in shock at the sight of the two of you looking at each other with such open adoration and softness that they’d get a lil mesmerized.

Until either you or Johnny noticed

Then, get ready for the SNARKIEST “Can I FUCKING help you?” glare combo to ever exist ever.

This made me smile, idk

Luz:

GEOOOOOOOOOORGE Luz

My guy (much like Babe) is SO INTO YOU it can sometimes get the both of you in trouble (How either of you managed to keep from getting kicked out is a miracle). 

Luz is also a dramatic little goober, so you know he’ll do something over the top to try and make you laugh (bc, unlike him, you can actually keep it together for more than five seconds whenever you see him)

I’m talking shooting to his feet and standing on his chair and pointing in your direction the moment he sees you (especially if it’s for the first time that day/in a while), putting on a deep voice and an overly serious expression.

“Good God boys, I think we’re in the presence of a GOD. DAMN. KNOCKOUT.”

“WOOH, look at that! Somebody get Roe, cause I’m pretty sure my is about to JUMP outta my CHEST!”

(“You sure you ain’t just hopped up on caffeine and no sleep—?” “Shut UP Perconte, can’t you see I’m trying to flirt with your mother?”)

When you smile sleepily and tell him he can’t talk to your son that way he’ll perk up like a goddamn puppy dog, hop down from his chair and grab the mug of burnt coffee he’d poured for you when he’d heard you greeting Nixon that morning.

He presses the cup into your hand and his smile would soften into the one he saved for you (the one he’d given you after the two of you had snuck out past curfew at Toccoa to put a can of peaches by the door of Sobel’s bunkhouse and nearly gotten caught because you couldn’t stop giggling)

Luz is so obviously a goof but he also would be so endearingly obvious in his adoration of you.

No one would dare tease him about it. George brought so much light and (much needed) distraction from the darkness around them that THE BOYS™ would literally go to the ends of the earth to ensure that the two of you had time together. 

Don’t think about how, after being assigned a (gasp) room with a queen bed and a door(!) he would give you that smile again BUT this time there’d be a lil hint of Trouble in those bright eyes. Don’t think about him swallowing your sighs as the two of you keep each other warm between the sheets. 

But if you do think about it, know that he’s going to whisper the sweetest, kindest things to you the whole time, and yall are gonna fall asleep like teens in a CW show (~in each others armzZz~)

Guarnere:

KING of the dirty wink

Oh my god.

Put that thing away before you get silly and hurt someone

You’ve heard of undressing someone with your eyes (see Liebgott and Nixon (and Ron if he’s feeling naughty shhh)), and you’ve heard of talking someone right out of their pants.

You had never known it was possible to WINK someone into a PUDDLE of feels.

Bill had a whole language of winks and head tilts, but you could be DAMN sure that he knows EXACTLY what he can do to you.

(Because you’re in a position where you’re under a bit more scrutiny than the other men, he also knows that you can’t necessarily reciprocate your feelings as openly as he can.)

DOn’t worry, he’s more than happy to flirt publicly for the both of you

“There she is, fuckin goddess of war herself. Come to see how the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch in the 506 is doin’ this morning?”

“Yeah, Bill. Something like that.”

It’s really cute. 

When you guys are alone, you try to make up for the fact that you can’t openly admire him the same way that he admires you. But Bill won’t hear it- tells you that he’d still think the world of you, even if you called him “the most unhelpful, condescending little shit” you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting

(which you did, after two weeks of constantly being paired up for training in Georgia)

(He’d asked you to marry him the next day, and you’d laughed so loudly and unexpectedly that it startled the both of you. The only thing to shut you up was a bark from Lipton to focus on the combat training, and even then you hadn’t been able to stop your shoulders from shaking)

For all his insistence that you didn’t have to worry about him thinking you don’t share his feelings, he isn’t opposed whenever the mood to show him how much you care for him strikes you.

Take a lil initiative when the two of you are alone and he’s putty in your hands.

BC while he finds your restraint admirable, he’d be a fucking liar to say you dropping the stoicism to get a lil dirty makes him weak.

Everyone else is used to Bill being an open flirt, and they are pretty sure if you had a problem with it you’d make him stop, but that doesn’t stop them from being surprised when Bill had dipped you into an over-the-top romantic kiss when it was announced the war was over (BC LET’S PRETEND HE WAS ALL GOOD AND HEALED UP AND WAS WITH BUCK AT THE BASEBALL GAME OKAY?!).

Speirs had simply held his hand out, palm up while all the guys who’d bet against him paid up

He’d shipped it from day one, but you’ll never be able to prove it!

(YIKES A DOODLE HERE’S PART TWO! Thank you to everyone who responded and liked the first half (major shout out to @mrsalwayswrite for writing my new favorite Liebgott story!) Again, love yall, and may your personal letters never be considered contraband)

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.2)

Warnings: smut!, choking, uhh insecuity maybe??, sub!spencer, dom!reader, talks of bdsm protocol

Length: 4.2k 

Authors Note: heyyy yall. i feel like i haven’t uploaded in DAYS idk why. another chapter of this fic bc i love it a lot but my next fic will be a dom!spence oneshot that i can’t get out of my head lol. this chapter is kinda open conversation

Plot Summary: Spencer can’t stop thinking of you but he’s too nervous to do anything about it. You’ve got doubts that only he can fix and he has questions only you can answer. Spencer really likes being choked, apparently. 

Ch. 1

Look at you baby, your lashes are so long, aren't they? Such a pretty boy," your voice rings out softly in Spencer's ears. A light sheen of sweat coats his chest as he feels your fingers around his dick, his throat caught - words disappearing from him.

"Fuck - please, Miss I'm gonna -," Spencer's voice is broken when he feels an orgasm wash over him.

Then of course, Spencer wakes up. Sunlight hitting his eyes as he blinks himself awake. He can feel it in his pajama pants, still not having registered the content of his dream before he looks down to see the massive mess. It's managed to happen a 3rd time, and its only been a week. Spencer shuts his eye in disdain as he stands up, pulling his pants off and tossing them in a hamper before he heads into the shower.

Spencer hates cold showers, he remember this fact as the water beats down on his back as he washes himself up. He washes his hair while he tries to compartmentalize the situation.

Like Spencer mentions, it's the 3rd time he's had a dream that wakes him up in such a pleasant way. You two had been dating for 2 ish months now, but Spencer chokes everytime you try and take things further. You never give him shit for it, which is more than relieving to him. You always reassure him that the two of you can take your time and that it's okay if he doesn't want it right away.

You were an angel, he knew that for sure but Spencer did want it. He was just, well - as nervous as a person could be. He still hasn't really talked to you about any of that, not about how it would work the first time the two of you did.. it. He didn't even know if you still wanted that - he'd been too petrified to ask if you still wanted to dominate him or if maybe that'd change now that you actually knew him. He didn't even know how to bring it up, or if there was a time for him to do just that. The whole thing filled him with such intense anxiety, he just didn't bring it up at all.

But, he wants to go further with you. He likes you so fucking much - of course he wanted to go further with you. He figured you knew that.

You didn't, really. You figured Spencer found you unattractive to some extent so he just kept putting off sleeping with you. It felt like a juvenile insecurity to have but well - he always reacts so poorly anytime you take this further. You knew he was anxious but there was always that self-loathing voice that told you that it was your fault, that he just didn't find you attractive enough. You pretended it didn't hurt since you like him so much, but it was starting to take it's toll.

On both ends, it was a fucking mess. Neither of you really knew why it was a mess for the other person, but it sure was one.

Spencer gets out of the shower when he hears a knock on the door. His eyes flit up to his analog clock on the wall, you were here right in time, Spencer thinks. He throws on an oversized sweater and some jeans that you bought for him. He liked them but he only really wore them cause you like them so much.

Spencer can't help the butterflies that fill his stomach when he sees you. Your eyes are dolled up in this pretty dark eye shadow, and red lipstick. You're pretty, dark and pretty but still pretty. The makeup was just new. Spencer feels like he's choking as he looks at your smiling expression Spencer shuts the door behind you as he lets you in.

"You ready to get brunch?," you ask Spencer. He dries his hair off and finds something to style it with as he walks back into the bathroom. All stuff that's new that you've introduced him too. He likes using the stuff that you told him to use though cause it makes his hair look less greasy.

"Yeah, but we've got some time before then - right?," Spencer ask. You smile and nod your head as you walk up behind Spencer, wrapping your arms around his waist. He feels small - your actual size unimportant to the way you make him feel. You pat his sweater down, hands dangerously close to his waist as you look at him, eyes gleaming. You give him a small grin when you peak over, as Spencer's eyes meet yours in a small blush. Your hands find themselves underneath his sweater, brushing his waist as you sway into him. Spencer focuses so much on doing his hair, just trying not to get hard.

"What should we do in that time?," you ask, mostly to yourself. You know Spencer probably won't do what you were thinking of doing. Spencer just blushes before shrugging, finished fixing up his hair as he moves away from your touch. You're a little hurt, not tryng to let it show as he walks back out into his living room, you following suit.

"I think they're playing some animal planet re-reruns," Spencer suggests. You give Spencer a small, half-hearted smile.

"Yeah sure," you say softly. You don't mean to be disappointed because you really do respect Spencer boundaries. You don't ever wanna do something that he's not a 100% down for and you just like him so much it doesn't matter. You had to admit though - god, you wanted to fuck his brains out and the fact that he may not return those feelings hurt a little more than your ego wanted to admit. Spencer seems to sense your disheartened demeanor, and with trying to ignore his immediate panic he looks over to you as you lean into him on the couch. He moves away from you for a few moments to look at you, and you turn to him confused.

"Are you okay?," Spencer asks concern. You give him a small smile and nod, taking his hands in yours and playing with his fingers. Spencer looks at you for a while longer before you begin to talk.

"It's nothing serious - it's kinda silly actually, so we don't -,"

"Hey," Spencer pauses. You look up at him, his eyes so full of concern. You can't help the way your heart melts, leaning up to meet Spencer's lips for a second. You look at the clock, still a good hour before the two of you have your plans. You sigh, looking down into your lap before you speak.

"I just wanna say first, that I totally respect any and all of your boundaries regarding sex - and I would never, ever pressure you into something you don't wanna do," you say slowly. Spencers nerves crawl up his back but he waits for you to continue.

"But uhm, well - I don't know, I guess I just wanna know if you still, well or if you ever wanted to sleep with me. Like ah, you know, maybe you found me unattractive. I mean, I get it - I guess I'd uhm, just wanna know beforehand," you trail off, unsure of how to say your comments. Spencers a little incredulous - did you genuinely think the reason he'd been avoiding sex was because you weren't attractive to him? Spencer just shakes his head violently, wanting to say so much but not wanting to scare you away with his words.

"Well, uhm - no it's not that at all. I think you're super attractive, and I defintely want to.. you know - with you I mean," Spencer starts, feeling the way your hand tightens around his instinctevely. This the most vunerable you've been with Spencer in your relationship so he wants to make sure you know how much he cares

"I have dreams about it, like all the time recently. I really like you, and I really do think you're very beautiful, I guess I'm just - nervous, you know? I don't know what to do, especially since we've never done that before and we met under such.. interesting circumstances. I don't know how to approach it,"

"You have wet dreams about me?," you say, a little too excited for your own good. Spencer blushes before nodding.

"Huh, I just openly admitted that didn't I? To answer your question, yes - I had one before you came over," Spencer remembers. You give him a cheeky grin and he hides his face in his head, groaning. You only laugh, pull them away before kissing his knuckles. You were more than pleased to hear this info. You stand and sit down in Spencers lap, hands on the side of his face. He gives you a small, gentle smile.

"It's okay if you're not ready to talk about sex at all, but it may help if we cover general BDSM code and standard. Nothing has to be decided or talked about if you don't want, but maybe just going over it will ease your mind up," you say softly to Spencer. His nerves settles as you continue to reassure him - your behavior is so perfectly soothing. The hand on his back, the softness in your voice and your reassurance, Spencer knew you were experienced but he was still impressed. Spencer just nods, letting you pepper kisses all over his face that made his expression scrunch up. Cute. Spencer was so cute.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Spencer manages to push out. You give him a warm smile. You move away to sit next to him, still maintaining physical contact but clearly becoming more serious.

"The most important thing to know is that everyone practices BDSM differently. There are two common standard procedures that people use, however - safe, sane, and consensual is the most common. It's just saying that both parties are participating in something that is just as it implies, and it prioritizes safety. Knowing you, I'm sure you've read up on most of this, but it doesn't hurt to explain," you say softly. Spencer nods, he did already know a lot of what you were talking about.

"The other is 'Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,' which is where both parties are participating in something they knew could have consequences that are harmful. In both situations - both parties need to be aware and understand the lengths of whatever they're participating in. It's the core of all BDSM practice, and since this is all new for you - let me be clear that your safety and sanity come first to me always. BDSM is a psychological thing at heart so making sure you're okay is firs priority," you clarify. Spencer is in awe by how.. well-spoken you were about it. He knew you were experienced but it was more than you let on. Spencer just nods, unsure of what to say.

"You've actually done this before, but the same goes for me - you know," Spencer adds. You give him a sweet kiss which he returns.

"Thank you, love. With all that, the way you assure someone's safety is obviously having discussions about limits but also by developing a safeword and system to make sure that a scene can stop at any point. It's especially important to make sure that those words are a out of place. You shouldn't use words like "Stop," or "No," as safewords because in some peoples play they refuse something as a part of foreplay or a part of the scene. Maybe a submissive whose being bratty is refusing something but they're okay with it happening - thats when a safeword can come in. If a partner at any point wants to tap out, they use that word," you explain.

Spencer nods in understanding, he didn't even think about people using those words for the purposes of foreplay or whatever else. He gives you a curious look, as you lean back. Instinctively, Spencer moves himself to lay his head on your lap which you'd sorta pavloved onto him. You'd always pat your lap when you wanted Spencer to do it, and at first it was so embarrassing but you'd do it so much he just sorta got used to it. You run your hands through his hair, the other one on his chest. His face is a little hot.

"For me, I like the stoplight system - Red meaning stop completely, yellow meaning slow down and let's talk about this, and green meaning go, I'm totally down for this. I like that system because it's a lot easier to get a sense of how the other person wants the scene to go, and if I want to try something, I can ask my submissive 'Color?,' and they can respond however they like. If they say yellow, I can break character and ask them whats up which can give them some real reassurance. Every submissive is different, but this sytem is really universal and easy to keep up with, " you say lovingly, patting Spencers chest rhythmically. You look down at his expression with serious eyes.

"Listen to me carefully when I say this my love - if we participate in a scene and there is a single doubt about what's happening, you use one of your safewords no questions asked. Using your words with me or any other signals may discuss is so important and it doesn't make you a bad submissive - okay? We are equals, always. Even if you want me to step on you, or call you pathetic - we are still equals and always will be, okay pretty boy?," you say in a stern, but loving voice. Spencer just nods, softly - so far he doesn't have many questions though he's sure that'll change at some point. Spencer nods, leaning his face into your hand as you cup his cheek. You lean down and place a kiss on his lips.

"I know I've been talking a lot, but lemme hear your thoughts, yeah? Anything," you ask Spencer.

"It's weird - I've done so much research on safe BDSM practices and understand all this stuff in theory but it seems so different in practice," Spencer comments lightly. You nod, letting him continue.

"One thing that I did notice was that you use If/When scenarios about you dominating me and I wasn't really sure what that was about. We are girlfriend and boyfriend, doesn't that sorta just imply you are my dom?," Spencer asks. You give him a pat on the chest before you go into explanation.

"It certainly helps that we're dating but you and your submission is something to be earned. We've never discussed in length until today, but of course - I was hoping that you'd want that from me. It's really just like an everyday relationship, but a lot more involved in trust and respect. We have a strong romantic connection which is really lovely, because it builds a lot of that trust and respect that you need to practice BDSM healthily and safely. I wanna lead you so I can see you grow, and hopefully, you wanna submit to me out of respect - those sorts of things,"  you say, playing with Spencer's hands. Spencer just nods, looking up at you.

"Will you be my dom, then? I want you to be. I don't think I could really imagine it being anyone else," Spencer asks out of the blue. You weren't expecting the question so suddenly, or the way your heart rips through your chest hearing it. It's so simple and innocent when Spencer asks.

"I mean, I'd love too but are you really sure? I mean -," you try to think of a reason for Spencer to say no but you really cant. Spencer just smiles at you, sitting up to look at you completely.

"I trust you so much because I know you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose - I mean unless I asked but, you know what I mean. I'm more sure than I was about asking you to be my girlfriend because you're just a trustworthy person. You're smart and kind and lovely all around. I know I'm new to this but theres no one I trust more than you to teach me. I really like you," Spencer says warmly. You wrap your arms around him, avoiding the tears in your eyes. Spencer is so sweet, reassuring by nature and it makes your heart yearn.

"Well, then - yes, I'd love to be your dom. And to answer your question about what we do for the first time, it'll be rather purely vanilla. No hijinks, just regular sex - since it's your first time partaking in BDSM with someone else, we gotta go really slowly so you don't have to worry. It might make you a little impatient but have faith in the process," you explain softly. Spencer is relishing in the fact that you know so much - you seem to have such a tight grasp on what you were doing he had no urges to question you. You lead so naturally, you don't demand anything from him but still, Spencer follows you. Spencer would follow you into the darkness if you kept speaking to him like that.

"We'll discuss things slowly and we'll make it really easy, okay? Once I get to know you a little more in bed, we can plan and talk about our first scene. It takes time to figure this stuff out, you know," You play with Spencers hair as you look over to the clock. 27 ish minutes before you two went out for brunch. Spencer sits up, face flush as he opens his mouth to try and ask you for what he wanted - now that he knew what was on the table his mind was thinking of everything he was missing. All the touches he was aching for you to give him. Spencers eyes were a little lost as he tries to explain to you.

"Can we -? I mean, would you, you know - uhm," Spencer voice can't get the words out. You give Spencer a small smile as he leans back into the couch. You pull your dress up, straddling Spencer's lap, and Spencer's throat dries up. He can't speak as he feels your heat up against his jeans. He's hard nearly immediately, a painful feeling for his dick up against the tight denim. Spencer stares up at you startled, a playful smile on your face. You place your hands on Spencers chest, feeling him up before settling your hands on the side of his face base of his neck. You lean in slowly, breath brushing Spencers ears as he heart pounds against his chest. His body felt a little out of control, and you just seemed to be so comfortable Spencer didn't know how to deal. He's so aware of the where your fingers seem to linger around his neck - he wants to blurt out "Choke me, please," but the words seems to disappear when he opens his mouth.

"You want me to touch you, Spencer?," you ask softly. Spencer nods violently and you can't help but laugh, maintaining eye contact for a few agonizing seconds. You lean in to kiss Spencer as your hands work the zipper of his jeans, your fingers making indirect contact with Spencer's cock. He whines aloud - he's sensitive, apparently. You can't help your pleased reaction as you pull his erection of his boxers - the tip is swollen, you can feel it ache under your touch. Spencer's eyes roll up in the back of his head, despite you having barely done anything for him at all.

"How fast do you think you can get off, baby?,"

Baby. Fuck, Spencer liked when you called him that. It was so natural to you, and Spencer just sighs.

"Fast," Spencer admits, a little embarrassed. He'd never needed to cum that quickly before in his life, yet here you were making him feel like he'd break at any second if you touch him too long. He was an adult but the thought of having sex with his girlfriend made him feel like he was gonna fucking combust.

"I cum first today, hope that's okay with you," you tell Spencer warmly. He gives you a nod, he's more than okay with that. You guide his wrist under your dress, feeling his hands palm through your panties. You moan quietly, and Spencers pleased with himself. It's hard for you to not just tell him to lay back so you can sit on his face - because god did you wanna do that.

"You lead the way," you joke to Spencer, more just telling him that he has permission to do his thing. Spencer just nods, as you lean into his neck to bite hickies into it. Spencers hands are careful with you, two fingers pressed against your clit as he rubs circular motions, his other hand holding your waist steady.

"A little faster, love," you ask Spencer. He just nods as he hears your voice, soft sighs falling from your lips as you feel your orgasm build in your core. Spencer likes you so much, he's so eager to please you in every way so when you finally reach your orgasm, Spencer doesn't hesitate on letting you ride out your high. His dick is pulsating against your thigh, as you finish up and flutter your eyes open to look at him. Spencer gives you a small smile, eyes looking for your approval as you give him a lazy smile.

Spencer watches you pick your bag up from the couch, laughing as he sees you pull out a condom. He gives you a look of surprise and you just shrug, rolling it on for him.

Your lipsticks mostly on but smudged a bit as you kiss Spencer, lifting your hips up before settling back around Spencer's cock. You feel so good around him, the feeling of your lingering orgasm gripping him tight makes him choke. You ride Spencer with ease, hands around the base of his neck. Fuck - Spencer wants you to choke him so bad.

"Choke me, please," Spencer spits out. You give Spencer a look.

"Are you sure, love?,"

Spencer strains for a second, feeling his orgasm coming at him full speed before squeezing out another "please". You debate for a second, but you figure non-kinky couples do this all the time and you tighten your hands around the base of his neck.

Spencer relishes the way the air leaves his lungs and doesn't return. He loves the way you look at him when you do it, the way you adore how much he's under control. He tries to calm down but before he can think, his orgasm shoots up his spine as he looks at you pleadingly. You purposefully clench around him and Spencer's leg twitches underneath you. Your grip on his neck releases immediately and he misses the feeling of you around his neck, cumming into the condom with a heavy sigh.

"I really like you," Spencer breathes out as you cum. You bubble up with laughter as you kiss his cheek, a little red pair of lips sitting on it. He goes to wipe it off but you stop his hand, grabbing his wrist.

"Leave it," you say, an edge to your voice. Spencer can't help but nod, touching it carefully as you slip off of him. You pull off the condom for Spencer, throwing it in the trashcan of his bathroom before heading to his bathroom with your bad. Spencer follows suit, wiping himself clean with a wet-wipe before tucking himself back into his jeans. Spencer watches you fix your makeup in the mirror, as he clings onto you in the mirror.  You turn to him, wetting your lips before kissing that same spot, then using your little brush to put powder on it. You smile, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. He wraps his arms around your waist instinctively.

"Now it'll stay put. And, I really like you too," you say, rubbing his back as he hugs you. He may have been tall but he clings to you like a big baby. It was so damn endearing.

Spencer's heart beats so loudly in his chest. You were so lovely, you smelled good, and tasted nice and were so sweet to Spencer. Spencer liked you so fucking much, he just wanted to stay like this forever and the best part was you liked Spencer too. The way you rubbed his back, soothing him and humming as you gave him the affection he always dreamed of made him feel more happy than he could imagine. When he pulls away and you look at him, you place your hands on the side of his face and smile.

"You're so pretty, doc," you say. Doc - you only called him that when you felt affectionate. Spencer blushes.

"So are you,"

If you two didn't have a brunch reservation, Spencer was sure the two of you would stay like this forever. Not that he really minded, anyway.

[forestlingincorporated]

My thoughts on the Snyder Cut

Overall, Snyder Cut is the more competently made Justice League movie. I watched the theatrical release with my girlfriend - who has never seen MoS or BvS or JL before - before watching the Snyder Cut with her a few days later, so it’s still fairly fresh in my mind. 

The Snyder cut is better organized and (despite being 4 hours long) better paced. I really gave ZERO shits about the mother boxes the way they were presented in the theatrical release, but I was engaged with the plot from the start in the Snyder Cut. Scenes were reorganized in a way that were more logical. Fight sequences were paced MUCH better, and kept me interested in what was happening on the screen - my girlfriend and I SKIPPED the last fight sequence in the theatrical release when we watched it because we were BORED; we didn’t get that bored at any point during the Snyder Cut. 

Most of the scenes I liked from the theatrical release are ripped wholesale from this version of the movie, with maybe an exception or two. 

EVERYTHING with Cyborg is better in this movie. Like. EVERYTHING. 

The lighting? Is SO MUCH better. The theatrical cut is SO UGLY compared to this movie. My girlfriend couldn’t look at the bat suit in the theatrical release for a second without complaining it looked terrible, and that was a nonissue in the snyder cut, the bat suit looked amazing. Diana’s low necklines were still there, but no longer shot in a way that was distracting. And dear god, the Steppenwolf redesign looks so much better, god. 

Speaking of Steppenwolf, our villain now has a character motivation! He’s in some way sympathetic and understandable! Wow! Now I fucking understand why our villain is doing what they’re doing, and it plays into the theme! 

And that’s where the praise has to stop, because now I gotta get into the complaints. Under the cut, so now one has to listen to my bitching if they don’t want to. (Also, I get into like, spoilers, so be warned) 

Okay, this movie has a theme, and the theme is family, and it is SO POORLY EXECUTED. Snyder doesn’t do “theme” particularly well - the family angle is kind of an after thought. It’s there, for sure, Steppenwolf wants to go home and be part of his family again, and family is a big part of Cyborg’s arc, and Barry’s stuff with his dad is pretty strong, but this movie isn’t Cyborg and the Flash vs. Steppenwolf - it’s THE JUSTICE LEAGUE vs. Steppenwolf. Each character has a connection to their family that is TOUCHED on, but it’s not given the weight it needs. Diana receives a message from her mother, but Diana doesn’t go visit her at any point or send a message back or anything. Aquaman talks about his mother and father kind of expositionally, designed to set up for the Aquaman movie which now contradicts the already existing Aquaman movie, but we never see his family nor get a strong sense of connection. Clark’s reunion with his mother is extremely brief and unimpactful. And Bruce, who has so much opportunity to delve deep into family connections, especially as the only member of the League who’s ever been a father, confirmed by the nightmare sequence, is given nothing to work with on the family front. 

That’s another thing, Snyder does plot driven movies, he doesn’t do CHARACTER very well. He’d rather exposition for 20 minutes than delve into the emotions of his characters. We’re given an idea that maybe Diana’s worried about her mom, and Bruce is probably still grieving his dead child, but none of that is dealt with. Like, Superman is a McGuffin, he has some emotional weight when he goes to get the black and white suit and you get the overlapping dialog of Jor-El and Jonathan, but he gets over being DEAD so fast, and his reunions with his family are like... limp noodles. I think the worst offender is the death of Cyborg’s father, which I found extremely clunky, and Victor has feelings about it for, like, a scene, kind of, and it just gets pushed aside. His own teammates are barely empathetic that he just lost a parent. I’ve already heard people praise this scene as “more interesting and emotional”, but I found it EXTREAMLY clunky and awkwardly handled. 

Speaking of the exposition, it goes SO LONG. Like, SO LONG. We don’t need this much info dumping, it drags the movie. Cut Diana’s explanation of the mother boxes down to, like, three minutes, five max. Maybe do it like the Story of Ares from the Wonder Woman movie. Keep the first scene of Steppenwolf and Desaad establishing Steppenwolf’s character motivation and then like.... cut.... everything.... else. Between Steppenwolf and Desaad. It mostly exists to set up the fuckin’ Anti-Life equation sequel bait, which we don’t need explained in detail in THIS movie; just have Darkseid mention it at the end as a reason to return to Earth at the end like they already do and cut out all the stuff setting it up, let it be a mystery. And then Cyborg’s info dump on his powers wasn’t necessary, though I liked the way it led into a warm fuzzy moment of him helping that family, and he kinda smiles like, yeah, he likes helping people, he’s on his way to accepting himself and stuff. But then the extra info dump about how his dad’s lab came into possession of the cube like “WELL, IN WORLD WAR 2 - “ like aaaaah, no one cares, cut it. 

Uh... I wish I saw less of Darkseid. I feel like the movie ruined its own suspense by showing off Darkseid’s full design within the first hour. I would have prefered a, you know, more Fire Lord Ozai approach. Don’t show him until the end - or AT ALL, if they can manage it, leave that for a future movie, given this was made with the expectations of more movies. Darkseid’s design was also really disappointing, like Steppenwolf looked so GOOD, he was big and menacing with the armor on, but next to him Darkseid looked... small. I wanted him to be bigger, broader, more menacing. 

Uh... Martian Manhunter. Cool reveal, very shocking, I was hyped, uh, but did not make a load of sense. Very weird moment. And then when you see him again, and Bruce is like “this may as well happen” lol, omg, how checked out is Bruce? 

Lois Lane remains... a limp wet paper bag, and I would have preferred her replaced wholesale with Martha. Love interests being the Thing To Calm The Rampaging Hulk Kryptonian only works if, like, the audience is on board. And I never thought Snyder’s Clark/Lois romance was very strong, because of Snyder’s whole plot-over-character thing, and also I thought this depiction of Lois kinda sucked... But with Martha, you can at least fall back on the cultural concept of a boy’s love for his mother to stand in for weaker character set up, and it would play into that theme of family a lot better. 

I don’t know... how to unpack why... the nightmare future injustice dream sequence.... made me physically angry. But man did I not like that. I feel like I manifested a confirmed Robin death... in the worst way possible. Because boy. I HATED THAT.

Oh! Uh, and I didn’t like Barry’s new introduction. I thought it was weaker than seeing him meet with his dad in jail, and it was kind of... off mood. It was really SILLY, and nothing else in the movie was really that tonally silly. Barry was overall treated with more respect in this movie, but it still felt like the movie was somewhat disinterested in Flash’s whole... brand. Barry stuck out a bit as the one character who was overall not really particularly angsty. I will say, I miss the scene from Whedon’s theatrical release of Barry overcoming his fear by taking Bruce’s advice to just save “one” person; that was a good scene and played well into Barry’s youth and inexperience and into Bruce’s history as a mentor and a father. That said, FUCK did Whedon nerf the shit out of Barry’s powers. This boy can TIME TRAVEL. 

[reactingwithexo]

Bonnie & Clyde (7) - Baekhyun

Part 1/ 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Summary: “Babe I want you to know how much I love you, how much I need you”

genre: mafia/gang au!, angst, fluff sometimes, smut

warnings: filthy smut(!), car sex, fingering, dry humping, just all these stuff, don’t read it if you’re not over 18 ok?

word-count: 3.3K

A/N: This is hapenning for realz, thank you so much for everyone who has been supporting me lately, I’m getting so much love here that I feel I am not worthy of, hope you like it.

He put his hands on his pockets and paced a little bit “I don’t know yet”, he stopped and looked at you “Can I ask you something now?”

“Hm, yes, one question”

“That might be a little bit selfish of me but, would you be willing to go on another adventure with me?”

“What? Baekhyun, you’re being investigated”

“I know”

“What the hell are you planning?”

“Ah” he takes exact three steps in your direction and stops right in front of you, you could feel his breath on your cheek before he said “you didn’t answer my question”

“You need to be honest with me if you want an answer”, you said while he kept his stare on you.

“I’m not asking you to go back there with your brother, I’m not, I promise, I have something else in mind, just us”

You were confused if this was another trap or if he had some honesty within him when it came to you “I am not going to go on another quest with you while you keep passing info to my brother”

“Y/n...” he took a step closer to you yet again “It’s not like that this time” he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle kiss “I don’t think I can do this without you, I understand if you want to move on, or even” he paused and swallowed “help on my arrest, I probably deserve it for fucks sake but, I also thought that maybe if you’d payed attention to everything that hapenned since we met, you’d see that I care about you, for real”

You knew he did try to protect you multiple times, I mean the guy was shot for you more than once, still part of you thought that maybe it could be a scheme, but part of you wanted to give in.

“You know what?” He asks while your forehead touches his after he pulls you even closer, his hand still holding yours, his gaze now directly on you “I give you the choice, if you want to help the police, fine, if you want to disappear and never see me again, that’s fine too, or if you’re willing to give me another chance”

You felt that you were holding your breath and your heart was racing “what is really your plan?” you decided to focus on your fingers tangled to his “just run away?”

“Not exactly” he stared at your hands too and started to swing them left and right slightly “I have some places to go, unfinished bussiness”

You hummed “is it legal?”

He smiled “depends”

You backed away and felt yourself frown “ah baekhyun, are you kidding me? I just told you I don’t want to be involved in stuff like these”

He shook his head “y/n, it’s not about your brother, you didn’t even le-”

“You wanna start your own mafia now is that it?” you exclaimed.

“Hey!” he alerted you to the fact that you had police all around the room before continuing “y/n, you’re so silly sometimes”.

He took two steps in your direction, closing the distance between you two yet again “you need to remember that, if you accept tagging along with me it won’t be entirely legal getting out of here ” his lips aimed to whisper in your ear “but i can’t stop thinking abou-”

There were two subtle knocks on the door and Baekhyun seemed to loose his train of thought, he swiftly whispered “if you choose to be with me, try to meet here at 10 pm, the door will be unlocked” 

It was so fast you couldn’t react to what he said and Baekhyun had already stepped back from you as Namjoon stated your time to talk was over. You just nodded his way and left the room turning around looking back at him to see he stopped his pacing to give you a side smile.

“So when are you avaiable to start the testimony? We need it as soon as possible” Namjoon asked you as soon as you left the room.

“I don’t know yet” You looked down “I thought I could have some time to assimilate all of this”

“I think you had enough time, no? By the looks of it you were taken care of just fine” he said with an unpleasant tone.

You felt anger coming through you as you turned to him  “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

He seemed shocked for a split of a second before his expression turned into a grin as he opened his mouth to answer you “listen to me, I don’t trust you as much as I don’t trust your friend in there”

You were ready to answer him with gritted teeth when Taehyung showed up “hey.. everything alright?”, he looked back and forth between you two.

You just looked at him and realized you had made your decision “Yeah I just.. need to rest, can I stay in the infermary for a little bit? my head hurts”

“Yeah of course”, he promptly helped you to get there and you saw Namjoon from the corner of your eye shaking his  and letting out a huff while you were leaving his sight.

You followed until the infirmary when Taehyung asked you “are you okay? you look a little off”

“I’m fine , just confused”

“Oh , the talk didn’t go well?”

“I guess you could say that, but I think I just need to rest really” You answered with a reassuring smile

“Okay , Imma leave you here” he turned around to leave the room when you asked “Where’s Flora?”

“She’s probably taking care of other things right now, sometimes she goes to other units”

“Oh , so she won’t be here during the whole day?”

“She should be here before 8 pm”

“Hm I see, thanks”

“Why ? Do you have any specifics you wanna talk to her or something?”

“No no, I just didn’t see her here so I wondered”

He didn’t seem to be fully satisfied with your answered but let it slide anyways “Okay, I’m gonna check on you later then and we can talk”

Fuck.

You smiled “yeah sure, see you later”

He nodded and left the room.

Ok so you’re fucked. Flora will be here before 8 pm and Taehyung will probably reappear in a few hours , how the hell would you endure until 10 pm and leave without being noticed?

Furthermore this place is full of cameras didn’t Baekhyun think of that? How would you two get out?

Maybe this was a sign of the gods for you to rethink your decision, or maybe Baekhyun didn’t think this through. Maybe you should just go out and never look back.

“You seem to be worrying too much for someone as young as you are” Flora entered the infirmary with some supplies on her hands and a big smile on her face.

“Hm..I guess you could say that” you tried to laugh it off but she didn’t seem to buy it as she still stared at you

She started to organize some cabinets before asking you quite discretly “I’ve been asked to ask you if you really do have a commitment at 10 pm?”

“What?” your head turned to her immediately. Was it possible she knew? What if everyone already knew and this was a way of the police getting to you?

“If yes, I’m gonna help you out” She continued as you looked at her in shock “There aren’t many people here after 8 pm so I don’t think it will be complicated”

Yes it could be a trap but what were your other options really? “Are you serious? What did I miss”

She laughed and turned to you “Sweetie, I’ve been in the service for a long time, you learn to make friends at both sides to survive in here for as long as I have, believe me”

“I see” 

“But I don’t think this one is that bad, he seems to have good intentions at least”

“How can you know that?” you asked more to yourself.

“Sometimes you just know sweetie” she answered with a smile “So you’re going I suppose -” she laughs a little “how silly am I, of course you are”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Judging by the look on your face and his eagerness for my help, I’d say it is obvious.”

And Flora was right. Of course you’d go with him, you probably would regret everyday if you didn’t, and even more if you helped with arresting him, deep down a part of you believed he was a good person, he was just raised in a bad environment and that’s all he has known.

Flora helped getting taehyung far off telling him you ended up sleeping there after taking medicine for a ‘terrible headache’. It took some work to convince him but she still managed it “experience” she exclaimed proudly when you looked impressed over her abilities.

She handled you a big bag from one of the cabinets and asked you to follow her, instead of following the path you’d been guided earlier, you entered through the back where there was a kitchen and some deposit right after, you realized there weren’t any cameras there, contrary to almost every other room in the building.

You quickly found yourself reentering  where Baekhyun was.

The look on his face when he saw you two enter was something you wish you could have recorded, or maybe it was just something from your head, but you felt this more than usual urge to kiss him right there.

He seemed to have the same thought for a split second but the adrenaline of the moment kept you two while you focused on Flora’s last tips for leaving.

“The exit has many more guards than usual, you must be something kid” she tells Baekhyun before moving on “but there’s a way, I’ll have to distract them because it is the only way out but you have to be really fast, so I hope you’re both ready”

Baekhyun took your hand in his as you followed her once again, you two looked at each other for a quick second before she rushed you two.

You don’t really knew how she managed but with her sympathy she really managed to get all the guards concentrated on whatever she was talking and as she indicated with her hand you and Baekhyun managed to run out of the building.

Maybe you were being stupid but you two just kept running until you couldn’t anymore and as you exchanged glances and he smiled at you, you both started laughing while you gave up on running and took a seat on a bench near by.

“Oh my god Baek..” you gasped while still laughing “I don’t know what I’m doing” you leaned your head on his shoulder and it was his turn to talk while he wore this cute smile.

“Not even I know for sure y/n, but now we’re here right?”

“Yeah..so what’s the first stop? We shouldn’t be sitting here , they’ll come looking for you eventually”

“Yes you’re right, we need to get the car before” he took the bag Flora had given you earlier, opening it and checking some of what was inside. “Great, just like I asked”

Following that , you two rented a car with some fake id baekhyun had and he rushed to start driving as fast as he could before anyone realized he was not where he was supposed to be. He also told you the trip would last 3 days.

“3 days in a car? Oh my god are we moving countries?”

“Aish, of course we’re gonna stop to sleep y/n, you won’t spend the whole day in the car gosh, did you forget how we used to do?”

“We weren’t fugitives that time, I was more relaxed”

“Considering you were running away from your brother , seems like a lie”

“Whatever Baek, just tell me when we get to sleep”

“You’re awkwardly a whiner today, already regretting coming with me?”

You just smiled and answered “We’ll see in the next few hours, maybe if I get too bored i can head back and head you over to the authorities”

“Hmm but you’d be in trouble too for helping me escape in the first place” he placed the hand he wasn’t using to drive on your knee

Silence seemed to take over for a little while and he started to take his hand higher to your thigh, it may have seemed like it was just a non calculated touch but the electricity between you two has been so overwhelming ever since your last kiss that any touch you two encountered from the other already set the sparks high.

“I could just tell them you seduced me to help you” you mumbled “Or maybe even blackmailed me and I didn’t have a choice”

“You know I feel bad when you have to lie because of me” he says with a slight smile on his face “and we’re not that far from where we escaped so there’s a possibility we’ll get caught soon”

His hand caressed your thigh more surely “So maybe I could seduce you so you won’t have to lie about it”, you two traded looks and he pulled over on some residencial street you were passing through so he could focus on you properly.

“Seduce or blackmail me?” You asked and he answered by taking your chin with the fingertips of his other hand guiding your look directly to his eyes “maybe both”

You didn’t loose time going for the long awaited kiss and his lips felt like the most delicious thing you have ever tasted.

The kiss held some of the urge you both kept inside for a while and the promise of something more to come

While one of his hands helped deepen the kiss pulling you closer through the back of your neck, his fingers brushed the place you wanted him to touch you the most and you letted out a small gasp swallowed by the kisses.

You felt annoyed about the restrainement on touching him in reason of the distance between the car seats and decided to stop the kiss so you could straddle him in the driver’s seat.

His hands immediately fell to your sides as you both laughed into the next kiss, when he pushed the seat all the way back to give you both more space, you felt him bellow you and started to grind down on him slightly.

It didn’t take him long to react by urging to take your shirt off, he gathered your hair with one of his hands as he opened space for his mouth to kiss and mark all over your neck until you started to release moans with the stimulation of grinding.

“I need you so bad” he whispered between kisses as you had heightened the speed of your movements.

He furthered his mouth to your collarbone and then stopped to admire your breasts, you took advantage of the moment and took off your bra, his look expressed hunger and defeat.

You decided to tease him a little bit when he was about to touch your breats, you slapped his hand away and touched them yourself, gaze never leaving his as you dry humped him.

 His chest was rising and falling quickly as he didn’t let you look away either “So you just want to use me to get off?”

“It would be a fine punishement for everything you’d done” you said while bringing your body closer to his again.

“You really want me not to move a finger anymore?” he reached to tease your almost exposed core through your underwear, you unconsciently bucked into his touch and he smirked at you “that’s what I thought”

He didn’t seem to give up on getting reactions from you this time as he teased your clit in small circles, he only seemed to be satisfied when you gave in and let out small whimpers, he kept one finger close to your clit while he used his middle finger to enter you. He murmured in your ear “You’re so wet for me baby”.

“Baekhyun...I need more” you moaned while he kept a steady pace, you heard him let out a little laugh as he added another finger into you.

“Ah Baek this isn’t eno-” you were cut by your own moan when he motioned the tip of his fingers in his direction inside you.” You have to stop complaining all the time and be a good girl for me”.

Baekhyun kept doing the same movement with his two fingers while the other now rubbed circles on your clit, you felt yourself tightening around his fingers “Should I let you come already?” he asked while speeding up his actions.

While you felt that part of you was reaching your high, you didn’t wanna come just yet. “No no” you shook your head.

“No?” He asked you with an amusing glint in his eyes.”Why? Tell me where you wanna come baby”

“I wanna ride you” you whined.

“You wanna ride my cock baby?” 

“Yes, I want it so bad Baek” He seemed to have had enough teasing you and  stopped his motions before kissing you hungrily “I’ve been waiting to do this with you for such a long time” he said after your lips separated from each other.

You had unbuttoned his shirt while you were kissing and now it was your turn to kiss his skin “Ay now you’re gonna tease me?” he asked.

“Just let me kiss you a little bit” you told him as he lowered his pants, you motioned your hand up and down his length and savored in the gasps and noises he let out, you took the condom he got from his pants and put it on him yourself.

After you felt sufficient with exploring his body, he helped you lowering yourself on his dick, the sensation felt as a relief for both of you and the sexual tension it has been building up since the last time you got to do this.

“Ah fuck” he said in the middle of a grunt when you started moving around him. “You feel so good”

You started speeding up, the orgasm that had been taken aback from you by Baekhyun, was begining to build up again and you began to exclaim non sense in the middle of both of your gasps and moans.

He helped you guiding your movements at first but as you seemed to be reaching closer to your peak he started thrusting up into you and that’s when you had to close your eyes to just focus on the sensation. He pulled you closer and whispered “come for me baby, i’ve got you”

His thrusts felt deeper from this angle and it didn’t take long for you to get to where you were in the verge of orgasming, in a moment of intense pleasure you gathered energy to bounce on him and he helped you reaching for your hips.

“That’s it baby, don’t stop” 

Indeed you didn’t as you felt your awaited high, you shook around his body with endless moans of his name slipping out of you.

Feeling you tighten and shake around him couldn’t have taken him closer to his high and soon enough he came as you were almost done savoring your own orgasm. 

You both seemed to just look at each other for a while when you’d both came down from your own respective peaks and slowly a smile creeped onto his face and you followed incousciously.

“We could have gotten arrested and it would all have been in vain”

“Worth it don’t you think?” You both laughed as you observed the situation you’ve put yourselves in.

He caressed your cheek with the side of his hand “I really do love you, you know?”

A/N: Ooof, I did it, hope you still like the series and don’t hate me too much for taking so long, as you all know I’m back for real and don’t plan on going anywhere. Any feedback is accepted, also I was so embarrased I didn’t proof read it so I’m sorry if there are many errors.

[aspiring-wildfire]

MAG 161

The final season FUCK I’m gonna cry

“SURPRISE!!” “jeSUS” Jon ily

“Tim wanted to surprise you” “snitch!” I’m—

God they went for ice cream for martins birthday and Jon babbled about something silly and Martin remembered all the details and!!!! I’m emotional

God they were friends!! They liked and cared about each other!!! I’m gonna fucking cry!!!

“Knock knock” “double boss!” Tim I’d die for u

Elias using his beholding powers to spy for cake is so fucking funny what an absolute bastard

“I like to keep an eye out” How many stupid fucking eye puns do you think Elias made while none of them had any goddamn clue

Jon lying about his age to seem Grown Up and Respectable will never not be funny to me what a delightful mess of a person

Sasha creeping on his computer is amazing and I love hacker!sasha

THEY SANG TO HIM AND HE TRIED TO CUT THEM OFF IM GONNA CRY FUCKS SAKE

Jon being a stickler for rules while not a single person including his boss gives a shit is lovely

“I’m so clumsy today! That is a LOT of fire” Tim have I mentioned I’d die for you

“If I wish for you all to go away so you think it’d work” curmudgeonly bastard man I love you

“So grumpy today! Do you think it’s his looming sense of mortality?” I miss him so much oh my god

Elias telling everyone what Jon wished for just bc he can is absurd and hysterical what a jackass

“Wine anyone?” “It’s 11 in the morning” so the archives staff have been day drinking the whole time not just as the apocalypse approached good to know

Martin baby I adore you

“You know there’s a lot of tannins in tea as well, right??” The idea of Jon and Martins relationship pre show being like unrequited pining with a side of Jon randomly info dumping at Martin makes me SO HAPPY

“Just thought it might be nice- yknow something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other” IM SOBBING THE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH THERE HOLY FUCK

“It’s just a bit of a privacy thing” hahahahAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—

“Any last words for your future selves?” “Yes, fire Tim” Jonny sims you did not have to come for my heart and soul like that

Martin taking care of himself and his man makes me happy and sad and just very emotional also Elias go to hell challenge

Of course Jon’s full of guilt and sadness about everything but it doesn’t mean I’m not SAD

Jon having no reprieve whatsoever from the horror of the world is genuinely awful and I want to hold him

“Okay we’ll just file that under ominous for now” Martin Blackwood keeping shit up and running and at least moderately sane once again my fucking boy

Jon’s semi hysterical laughter breaks my heart

“It doesn’t want to harm me” “and me?” “I won’t let it.” ROMANCE TM

“I’m mourning a world I killed and we’re all trapped in it’s rotting corpse” Jon baby oh my god

Gertrude Robinson stone cold bitch makes a reappearance

SHE WANTED SASHA TO BE THE ARCHIVIST

IS THAT WHY MICHAEL TALKED TO HER

FUCK OH MY GOD

“Accept that you’re in great danger and will be for the rest of your life” she really does not fuck about

The necessity of free will in becoming an avatar is really interesting- does it count as willingly if you don’t know what you’re agreeing to?

Wow Gertrude really knew all the shit right from the start huh

“I’ve managed to keep the archives in a state of chaos for decades as I believe it’s organization would help him” god even early Jon’s frustration about the messiness of the archives is tied in Jonny sims you’re a genius and I adore you

The sadness in gertrudes voice when she talks about the price you have to pay- how long ago did she sacrifice Michael?

Leitner being a cocky asshole is a hysterical contrast to the guy who quiveringly hid in the tunnels for over a decade and then got smacked to death with a pipe

so she’s already realized that the rituals can’t sustain themselves, okay

Gertrude’s lowkey pyromaniac inclinations are consistently hysterical to me

Jon still fighting to stay human is heartbreaking

“Some of us weren’t able to cut ourselves off from the world before it ended” Jon. Cmon.

Look at them talking out their issues I love them

“It’s quiet here, and I have you” I’m crying

Martin your hopefulness makes me so happy this is the energy I needed right now

WWMBD? (What would Martin Blackwood do?)

“I love you, I just- I need more time” AHHHHHHHHHHH IM LOVE

Jon baby boy love of my life let your boyfriend hug you and try to breathe I just want you to be okay

[lisinfleur]

Mistletoe? Misfortune!

The request: A fiction with Floki or Ivar for the following prompt: “Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” - “If I have a knife.” Author’s Notes | Sometimes it is bad luck indeed hahaha I hope you guys like this one! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Floki x Reader, Ivar x Flokisðóttir Info |Modern AU, prompts designed by @honestsycrets for 2019’s Holiday Event Words | 1068 ⁑ Warnings: None

The two of you had done the whole preparation for Christmas together, but Floki was looking around finding anything that could possibly be wrong in his home to get everything perfect for the night.

As long as you knew, Ivar and his brothers would come with Ragnar and his wife to spend the Christmas night with your family and since it was something that would happen once in a lifetime, Floki wanted everything to be perfect for the occasion. And so did you.

Maybe that's why you just didn't care when he asked you to clean the garden with him, even after the two of you had already cleaned almost the whole house, changed the wallpaper, organized the shelves, and, of course, made the traditional cleaning on your attic and basement to find anything old to be donated or tossed away. It was something good for him to have people he loved around for Christmas and you would love to have your house full of good friends for such a warm night, so why not make it comfortable and receive them with a beautiful house as well?

"Mom!" your daughter's voice sounded from the door and you saw she had come with the youngest of the Ragnarssons - a little too early for the Christmas dinner, but not something unwarned at all. You knew Ragnar had called earlier in the morning telling Floki he would send some things for the preparations and his boys would also come early to help the three of you - "and I do not accept no as an answer! They're younger, we put them to work!" - so, it wasn't unexpected that some of them would arrive. You weren't expecting all of them to come but you could see Ubbe had come as well and was closing the car while Hvitserk was, somehow, managing to get your lazy dog up to play - that dog would spend the whole day sat or laid, but whenever Hvitserk come to visit he would instantly get up and shake his tale knowing the boy would have something for him to eat, that fat little thing. Sigurd was coming beside the older one with some bags he picked up from the car.

"They came to help!" your child smiled, with Ivar by her side waving at you two. "Ivar said Björn will come later with more food he went out to buy!"

You waved back, smiling, but Floki frowned with his eyes catching Ivar's free hand landing on your daughter's waist.

"They have been being too close to each other, don't you think?" he complained, annoyed.

And you giggled, knowing Floki didn't want to accept the obvious inclination your daughter had to give her heart to the youngest son of Ragnar.

They had grown the best friends since they were children and you knew your daughter was wrapped around the boy's fingers. Ivar was a good boy, intelligent, strong, and funny when he wasn't in a bad mood. And he was never in a bad mood when your daughter was around so, you chose to get used to the idea of having the Ragnarsson as your soon-to-be son in law - something that your husband was struggling to accept.

"Let them be, Floki," you said, giggling. "They're even cute toge... oh, no. Mistletoe!" you exclaimed when your eyes went back to the garden, finding some mistletoe near your feet.

"What?" Floki answered, coming closer.

“Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” you asked, pointing the bunch of leaves to what Floki smiled like someone who had the best of the ideas.

“If I have a knife,” he said, cutting the mistletoe and bringing you by your hand with him, pinning the plant on top of your door, right over the place where he gently placed you, with that silly smile in his face. "See? Now you owe me a kiss," he joked. "Not bad luck at all!"

You giggled, kissing him softly before coming in to receive the boys and help Sigurd with the bags he was dropping on your kitchen.

"And Björn went out to buy more food?" you asked seeing Sigurd nodding. "God, how much does your father thinks we eat?"

"It's not about you, it's about him," Sigurd pointed Hvitserk as Ubbe was standing beside your husband.

"We'll help with the garden, don't worry," Ubbe offered.

To what Hvitserk jumped almost instantly.

"We?" he asked, already tasting some of the cookies you had done earlier, "'We' is more than one, Ubbe," he said filling his mouth with some more cookie, "Sigurd and I were prone to help with the kitchen matters..."

"Which means me helping aunt Y/N to cook and Hvitserk playing the sommelier," Sigurd rolled his eyes and Hvitserk smiled.

"Quite what I was thinking!" Hvitserk finished, having his ear "gently" pulled by his older brother, being carried towards the house entrance.

"Garden with me, Hvitserk. Now," Ubbe sentenced his fate.

"I'll pick up the tools for us to work," Floki said, indicating he would go back to the garden work with the brothers as you would help Sigurd and probably your daughter with the kitchen.

But where was your daughter?

"I'm sure it's mistletoe," you heard Ivar's voice calling you and Floki's attention towards the door where your daughter was shyly smiling standing under the doorway while Ivar was analyzing the piece of mistletoe Floki had just placed there. "Which means... I'll earn a kiss, right?"

Your husband almost exploded an eyeball, you could ensure it by the vein visible on the side of his face and his fists clenched as your daughter gently leaned forward, cupping Ivar's face with all the tenderness of the world and kissing him softly before drawing back fully red, leaving a smile on the boy's face in what was the sweetest moment of that Christmas for you until now.

His brothers were smiling and even Sigurd couldn't deny a smile for that sweet scene.

But Floki was still steaming when you held his hand, leaning your head to lay in his shoulder.

"Let them be, Floki. She loves him... And I'm quite certain he loves her back," you said, hearing when Floki sighed, defeated.

"Nah... You were right... Mistletoe is bad luck indeed, after all. Bad bad luck. Bad-luck!" he repeated, reinforcing it, causing you to giggle amused.

That would be some funny Christmas night after all...

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[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch. 17 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1500

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, who fair warning are def laughing at everyone freaking out because they know exactly where the story is going

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity,  @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany, @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings, @lokis-butter-knife

WARNING: Reader is very not good... like fatally not good.  Be cautious if that is going to bother you!

They don’t bother to right your chair. They just kick you while you’re down.

A lot.

Why they don’t just shoot you is a mystery. You wish they would. Then maybe everything wouldn’t feel like it’s on fire with some unholy Asgardian magical fire that burns a million times hotter than the Earth’s core. You cough, and it sounds sickeningly wet, and tastes of iron. Trying to spit out the blood that pools in your mouth sometimes works, but most of the time it just leaks back onto your face or back into your lungs.

You wonder if you’ll suffocate or bleed out first. Based on the choking, you’re betting on suffocating.

Every SHIELD agent is required to go through three days of standard mandatory torture resistance training. You’d sat in a room with some other linguistics agents and office workers, rolling your eyes at each other when the instructor turned their back because all of you knew you were never, ever even going to come close to any information worth kidnapping you for. A laugh burbles out of you. Shoulda paid more attention. Maybe taken some notes.

Something high pitched and hysterical fills the room, and in the back of your mind you vaguely recognize it as your own voice. A story comes out of you from somewhere, god knows why, and eventually your brain catches up with the words enough to realize it’s one of Loki and Thor, from when they were kids. Your favorites. They never failed to make you hide a smile, or even laugh out loud. Sometimes Loki smiled when he made you laugh. That was nice. He has a nice smile.

“-and Thor loves snakes, right? And Loki knows this. So he turns himself into a snake- he can do shit liked that, he’s magic, he can turn into all kinds of crazy things but don’t ask me what ‘cause I don’t really know-” you stop talking long enough to cough, hard, and gasp in a breath. “Or I guess maybe I do ’cause I know he can turn into a snake. But he turns into a snake in the middle of a field and waits for Thor, and Thor picks him up ‘cause he loves snakes, and then Loki turns back into Loki and stabs him!” Your voice is about an octave higher than normal, and you’re wheezing in some sort of horrible laugh, knocking yourself up over your own bedtime story told on your dying breaths. “Hey, boys! Boys, come back! I do have some info for you!” You shout at the top of your lungs, ignoring the strangling sounds in the back of your throat. “Thor- Thor has a lot of scars! He’s been stabbed a lot!”

No one comes in to marvel at your revelation, just as no one had wasted another look at you once they were done beating the shit out of you. “Ungrateful bastards,” you mutter, and for some reason you find that even funnier than the story. So you laugh yourself silly again, as much as you can with all the pain wracking your every move.

Maybe you’ll die laughing. That’d be a nice way to go.

When you instinctively go to wipe a horrid mixture of blood and tears from your face, you realize your wrists are free. They must’ve come loose or been torn free by those goons. Your ankles, too, are no longer bound, though you’re pretty sure your foot isn’t supposed to be sticking that way. That’s fun. Guess walking is out of the picture. But where would you even walk to? It’s not like they’re gonna give you a goodie bag and let you out the front door.

Maybe… maybe if you can find some place to hide? Some back hallway nobody uses where you can hole up until… well. You know, deep down, that SHIELD doesn’t send in rescue parties for people like you. Hell, the only people who’ll even realize you’re gone are Loki and Thor. You wince as a pain in your chest stabs to life. Okay. Safe place first. Daydreaming about rescue operations later.

Sitting up is the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. There’s definitely a punctured lung somewhere amongst the mess that is currently your internal organs, because what little oxygen you can gasp for doesn’t seem to be doing much. You’re right about walking, that’s not going to happen- you can’t even feel anything below your knees. But your knees- they’re stable-ish, and as long as you ignore the bones in your wrists shifting around to spots they shouldn’t be in, you might be able to passably crawl your way to victory.

You want to laugh, but that’d probably send a rib straight through your chest. So you don’t.

Crawling on your goddamn hands and knees through a secret underground HYDRA base is by far the most surreal moment of your life. Even more then realizing that hammer in New Mexico was honest-to-Thor Mjolnir. More than casually chatting about the questionable existence of deities with another deity. It’d be funny if your plan wasn’t so horrendously futile. You’re moving at negative two miles per hour. You’re leaving a massive trail of blood behind you. And even if SHIELD does send some rookie agent to track you down, you’ll be nothing but a body to find.

On the other hand, you’ll quite possibly die before any of the HYDRA idiots find you. Maybe you could go semi-peacefully, then.

It’s that thought that keeps you moving. One petty little victory before your demise. Really, you didn’t know you were capable of that much triviality, but hey, might as well respect your one dying wish, right?

Miracle of miracles- most likely the last miracle you’re ever going to see- you find what looks to be a neglected supply closet. The door is unlocked, and you squeeze your way in, then shut the door as much as you can behind you. There’s no light to see by, but your eyes aren’t working that well anyways, so you climb over what feel like discarded Kevlar vests and random pieces of weaponry until you get to the furthest corner you can manage. Tuck yourself up against the wall, dragging your useless feet behind you. Breathe. Cough up some more blood. Breathe again.

Some sort of gun clatters away from the pile you just climbed over and you clutch it to you; a cold comfort. You’ve never fired a gun, but it should be easy enough, right? Point the bad end at the bad guy, aim, pull the trigger. Maybe if someone finds you before you go you can take out one of the bastards with you.

It’s dark and quiet. That’s all you can ask for at this point. Briefly, you wonder if Valhalla accepts stowaways. Maybe Loki will come visit you if they do.

Loki. Loki is a god, right? And you can pray to gods. You have no idea how or if the whole praying thing even works- one of the many questions you should have asked him- but… maybe it’ll make you feel better. Saying your last thoughts.

Um. Loki? Do I need to, like, invoke your full name or something? Loki Laufeyson, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, God of Mischief and Lies, royal pain in my ass for the past year… yeah, that’s probably enough. Um, hi. It’s me. So, funny story, I might’ve gotten myself kidnapped by HYDRA and then beaten to a pulp. Just a bit. You’d laugh if you were here, trust me. I’m laughing on the inside.

So, I know you’re kinda in a cell, but dying here seems pretty sucky. Maybe could you send Thor to come get me? I mean, I’m gonna die either way, but at least dying in Thor’s muscly arms would be a big step up than this closet.

Sorry, that was a joke. You know I like you better.

Soooooo, yeah. Have a think on it I guess. I mean, don’t think long, I don’t have that much time.

I don’t know if you can hear me. Probably not, I don’t usually get that lucky. But if you can, just… remember that a prince is still a prince, no matter where he comes from. Thor loves you, even if you don’t believe it sometimes, so try not to dagger him unless he really deserves it. So does Frigga. Trust me, I know these things. I really liked hanging out with you, if that’s worth anything. You aren’t anything like I expected, but I’m glad you’re not, ‘cause I don’t think I’d love you nearly as much if you were.

Keep yourself out of trouble, Trickster. For me.

[plusultrabitchez]

Rooms on Fire Chapter 16: Bridesmaids and Broken Lamps

17. That's how many times you called before he blocked your number. You laid in bed staring at your phone lock screen. It was you and Hitoshi holding doughnuts in your mouths and making silly faces that you took on your first date. How did everything get so fucked up? "I should've fucking known that villain spawn like you would act like this." His harsh words kept replaying in your mind.

You wiped away your tears, turned off your phone and threw it in a drawer. He wouldn't call you back. Why would he? You didn't deserve him. It hurt how much you missed him. It had been almost two weeks since that night. You had been in bed for practically all of it. The bed still smelled like him, but not for much longer. Your eyes and face were raw, red, and puffy from all your crying. You called out of work and used most of your vacation days. It felt bad ghosting your friends, but you were completely broken. Explaining what happened and all the ways you fucked up would bring everything back.

With the help of some Valium, you had managed to numb some of the pain. It came in waves now. Which was preferable to the constant horrible feelings that were akin to having your heart ripped out then crushed with a frozen mallet. Hades did his best to comfort you. Snuggling in bed with you the whole time. You would fall asleep cuddling him or a pillow and when you woke up, for a brief moment you were happy, before the realization that you lost Hitoshi crept back into your mind and crushed you all over again.

Hitoshi called out of work as well. He couldn't deal with people asking how you were or asking what happened. Having to explain it would break him all over again. He was heartbroken and angry, but fuck he missed you so much and he hated that he did. He had to block your number so he wouldn't give in to temptation and pick up. Hitoshi deleted all your messages without reading or listening to them. He knew if he heard your voice it would crush him.

He looked at his phone lock screen. It was a picture of you during one of your off days. Sipping your black coffee in your PJs, bare-faced, messy hair, smiling sweetly at him. He would kill to spend another morning with you. The hurt and betrayal hit him all over again. How could you do this to him? Was he not good enough? Did he not satisfy you? What did he do wrong to drive you back into Bakugou's arms...and bed.

God the thought of you two together made him sick. If it was just before you had gotten together, he could deal with that. It was your life and none of his business who you were with before. Hitoshi groaned and wiped away tears before tossing his phone across the room. He had a training session with Aizawa today which was the one thing he couldn't cancel. He wasn't looking forward to telling him what happened. His phone started ringing.

Hitoshi groaned and dragged himself out of bed to get his phone. "What?" He snapped, not even bothering to see who was calling.

"Oh, um sorry Shinsou. Is this a bad time?" It was Ochaco. She sounded worried.

"As good a time as any." he grumbled.

"Umm, are you okay Shinsou?"

"Fucking peachy. What do you want?" He snapped again.

Ochaco chuckled nervously. "It's a bad time I'm sorry. I just wanted to know if (Y/N) was okay?"

He clenched his fist upon hearing your name. "How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

"Well no one has heard from her in like two weeks and since you practically live with each other so I thought-"

Hitoshi cut her off. "You should go over there and let her fill you in. Or hell, give Bakugou a call. I bet he's over there now." He hung up and hung his head. He pulled up your contact info on his phone and stared at it. His finger hovered over the call button. "God how pathetic am I? She fucking cheated on me, but I'm still worried about her." He closed out of your info and tossed his phone on the bed. He had a training session to get to.

.

.

You woke up from your fifth nap of the day to Hades nudging you with his nose.

"What is it bub?" You then heard knocking from downstairs. "Who the fuck is here?" you groaned as you rolled out of bed. You were pretty weak. You hadn't been eating much and the only time you got out of bed was to use the bathroom and take care of Hades, Binx, and Salem. You shuffled downstairs as the knocking on your front door grew louder and more urgent. You unlocked the door and swung it open rubbing your eyes.

"What?" you snapped.

"Oh my god! I'm so glad you're alright!" It was Ochaco who was now pulling you into a tight hug. You felt your emotions welling up again, you were doing good to hold them back today. You choked back tears. "(Y/N) I called Shinsou to ask how you were and...well...did something happen between you two?" She asked still holding you tight.

Hearing his name made you break. You wrapped your arms around her. Your body shaking as you let your sobs out. "I fucked up Ochaco. I fucked up so bad."

Ochaco just held you tight and let you cry. After a few minutes, she got the two of you out of the doorway and led you to the living room to sit you on the couch. She got you a box of tissues, a blanket, a glass of water and sat down with you. "Take your time (Y/N). I'm here for you."

It took you a while to explain everything through your sobbing, but eventually, Ochaco was brought up to speed. She knew everything. Your thing with Bakugou, how it began, how long it lasted, how it ended, then everything that Bakugou had told Hitoshi.

"I just don't know why he would lie about us being together after I moved back." You chugged your water and took a deep breath. Talking about everything had helped a little. "He's the one that ended things between us, and now he's all pissy that I moved on? The whole deal was no strings attached anyway. The only reason I can think of is that he wanted to restart things with us which obviously I don't want to do."

Ochaco nodded. "Well, it's Bakugou, so no telling why he did that." She thought to herself for a moment. "You don't think we could convince him to tell Shinsou the truth?"

You scoffed. "Doubt it. I knocked a bunch of his teeth out after Hitoshi left me in the parking lot."

"Oh wow." Ochaco gasped.

"Yeah, I doubt he's feeling generous." you rubbed your temples. "And Hitoshi won't talk to me. He blocked my number so I can't even try to explain."

"Have you considered going over there?"

You shook your head. "No, he obviously doesn't want to see me. I want to go see him so bad, but it would be best if I kept my distance and respected his wishes." Your stomach growled loudly. Ochaco noticed your hands shaking.

"(Y/N), when was the last time you ate?" Her eyes full of concern.

You thought back. "Umm, maybe 4 days ago. I had some chips."

Ochaco sighed. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. You're going to go take a nice long shower, I'm going to order us some food, we're going to veg out and watch movies and have a little sleepover."

Tears streamed down your cheeks yet again as you reached over to give her a hug. "Thanks, Ochaco. I don't know what I've done to deserve a friend like you."

.

.

Hitoshi trudged into the dojo where he was meeting Aizawa and tossed his bag down.

"You're late." Aizawa said coming up behind him.

"Sorry." Hitoshi grumbled.

Aizawa quirked his eyebrow as he looked Hitoshi over. "You look like shit."

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

Aizawa knew something was up but decided not to press the subject. As long as Hitoshi brought his best to their sessions, he like to think that he didn't care.

They started their sparring session and Hitoshi was obviously distracted. He was sloppy, angry, and erratic. Aizawa was growing increasingly annoyed. Hitoshi was one of the hardest working people he had ever trained but he was fighting like an inexperienced first year. Aizawa grabbed his arm when Hitoshi threw a punch and tackled him to the floor and pinned him.

"What's going on?" He asked flatly.

"Nothing." Hitoshi replied through gritted teeth.

Aizawa rolled his eyes and pulled Hitoshi's arm back further causing a jolt of pain in his shoulder.

"What the fuck?! You're going to dislocate my arm!"

"Not if you tell me the truth."

"We broke up."

There was a moment of silence before Aizawa released Hitoshi from his hold. Hitoshi got off his stomach and stood up, wincing as he stretched his arm out. "Are you happy? Now let's get on with it." he said getting into a fighting stance. Aizawa just stood there hands in his pockets.

"Normally I wouldn't ask for details, and I hate to admit it but I have a soft spot for the two of you."

"I don't want to talk about it." Hitoshi said heading to get his stuff. He felt his legs being swept out from underneath him and he hit the ground again.

"Don't make me beat it out of you." Aizawa said, still in his monotone voice. "What did you do?"

The question made Hitoshi snap. "I didn't do anything! She was the one who decided to cheat on me with Bakugou!"

Aizawa quirked an eyebrow. "Did you catch them together or something?"

"No, but Bakugou made sure to tell me all about it."

"What was Kubo's side of it?"

"She denied cheating on me, but admitted to them being together before she came back."

Aizawa rolled his eyes and sighed. "So you decided to believe Bakugou, someone who is notorious for being petty and jealous, over Kubo who has done nothing but love and support you all these years?"

Hitoshi huffed and looked away from Aizawa, finding a spot on the wall to glare at.

"If she did cheat on you, why would she admit to everything else and deny that one thing? Kubo isn't one to deny her mistakes."

"Well, why else would she not tell me about her and Bakugou? If she had nothing to hide, why not tell me herself instead of me being blindsided at a fucking party?"

"I agree that the circumstances of which you found out are less than ideal. She should've handled that better, but I do think you should hear her out. Maybe get her side of the story. Cheating doesn't fit her character."

Hitoshi looked down at his feet. What Aizawa was saying made sense, but he couldn't get over Bakugou spouting off such intimate details about you.

Aizawa sighed. "Okay, I've said my piece. What you do next is up to you. Now do you want to fight or not?"

.

.

Midorya waited outside the bar for Hitoshi to arrive. He had messaged him earlier saying that he needed to get out of his apartment and blow off some steam. He was on the phone with Ochaco who had given him a call to fill him in on everything that was going on.

"Holy crap. I can't believe Kacchan would do something like that." Midorya said as he tried to process everything Ochaco just told him.

"Yeah well, I hate to say I'm not surprised. But we need to do something Deku. She's.....not great."

"Oh?" Midorya was alarmed by how concerned Ochaco sounded.

"She can barely stand up because she hasn't eaten in 4 days. I just ordered a bunch of food so hopefully, I can get something in her." Ochaco sighed. "I think it's her way of punishing herself."

Midorya let out a heavy sigh. "That's....bad." He saw Hitoshi approaching and waved before holding up his index finger indicating he needed a minute before turning away and lowering his voice. "Are you going to stay there and keep an eye on her tonight?"

"Yeah, I can't leave her like this."

"Yeah, I agree. Okay well, Shinsou just arrived so I'm going to go now."

"Okay, try to see where his head is at." Ochaco said.

"Will do. I love you."

"Love you too."

Midorya hung up and turned around to face Hitoshi. "Sorry about that. Just catching up with Ochaco."

"It's okay. Thanks for meeting me." Hitoshi's voice was gruff and his eye bags were worse than usual. "I just couldn't be alone with my thoughts anymore."

Midorya sighed. "Yeah I understand. Want to talk about it?" "Not really..." Hitoshi eyed Midoriya's phone. "Ochaco is with...her isn't she?" He couldn't bring himself to say your name.

"Yeah, she is." Midoriya replied. There was a moment of silence. Hitoshi wanted to ask if you were okay, but couldn't bring himself to form the words.

Midorya could tell what was going through Hitoshi's head. "She's......Ochaco is taking care of her."

Hitoshi nodded and looked at the ground. He knew that meant you weren't okay. Even now he wanted to rush over to your place to take care of you.

Midorya sighed and put his hand on Hitoshi's shoulder. "Come on. Let go have a beer and get your mind off things."

.

.

"Come on (Y/N). You really need to eat something." Ochaco cooed as she handed you a takeout box.

You took it reluctantly and sniffed. Normally you were always hungry, but you couldn't physically bring yourself to eat. But Ochaco was concerned so you took a small bite. It was hard to get down, but you continued to eat so she wouldn't worry.

Ochaco sighed in relief. "That's better! You need your strength!" She gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up that made you smile for the first time since her birthday party.

"Thanks, Ochaco, for taking care of me." You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm pretty fucking pathetic right now huh?"

"No, you're not. I know if it were Deku and me, I would be devastated."

"God I'm the worst. How're the first two weeks of being engaged? God, I caught up with my own bullshit. I'm so sorry Ochaco."

She smiled at you. "It's okay! That's what friends are for! They've been really great. I haven't planned anything yet, but I've just been looking around at ideas."

You smiled. "Can I see?"

Ochaco eyed you. "Are you sure? I don't want to upset you given your current situation."

You shook your head. "No, it'll be great. It'll be good for me to focus on something happy." You sat up and scooted over to her. "Come on. Show me your ideas."

"Well, there is one thing I wanted to ask at my party but didn't get a chance to."

"What's that?" you asked.

"Will you be my maid of honor?" Ochaco held her breath and looked at you.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but they were happy tears. "Really?" You sniffled.

"Well yeah. You're my best friend." She replied with a sweet smile.

"I would be so honored. Thank you so much for asking me."

You both gave each other a hug before she showed you all her saved ideas.

Deep down you were still sad, but focusing on your best friend's happiness soothed your soul.

.

.

A few hours later Midorya was walking an extremely drunk Hitoshi home. He practically had to carry him because of how bad he was stumbling. "Why did she do it Midorya?" Hitoshi slurred. "Was I not good enough for her? Bakugou was right. He's an asshole, but he was right."

"Right about what?" Midorya asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards Hitoshi's apartment.

Hitoshi chuckled. "He said that she was way out of my league."

Midorya was saddened to hear his friend put himself down. "Kubo never thought so. When we were at UA she was always going on about how awesome you were." They had reached Hitoshi's apartment building now. Hitoshi got quiet.

"Then why did she cheat on me?" His voice cracked. "I thought she loved me." He fumbled with his keys. He was having trouble getting them out of his pocket.

"The thing is Shinsou...I don't think she did."

Hitoshi scoffed and waved his hands around. "Whatever man." Hitoshi finally got his apartment door unlocked and stumbled inside.

"Hey Shinsou?"

"Hmm?" Hitoshi grunted as he kicked his shoes off. One of them flew off and broke a lamp. "Ah fuck." He pointed to the lamp that was now broken on the ground. "Hey! The lamp looks like my soul right now. Shattered into tiiiiiiiiny pieces." He let out a cold laugh. "I can't have nice things."

"Shinsou, was the fact she was with Bakugou bother you or was it just the supposed cheating."

Hitoshi sighed as he plopped down on the couch. "I couldn't give less of a fuck if she banged Bakugou while they worked together. Yeah, he's a dick, but she's an adult and it's her life."

"Do you still love her?" Midorya asked sitting beside him.

Hitoshi rubbed his eyes. "God I love her so much. I miss her Midorya. Even now, after everything that's happened, I want to know if she's okay." Hitoshi looked over at Midorya with sad puppy dog eyes. "Is she okay?"

Midorya wasn't sure what to say that would make Hitoshi feel better but decided not to sugar coat anything. He asked so he was going to tell him the truth. "No Shinsou. She's really not. She hasn't left her house, hell she's barely left her bed, she hasn't been picking up her phone. Ochaco had to force her to eat for the first time in 4 days tonight."

Tears welled him in Hitoshi's eyes. "Fuck..." he breathed out.

"I don't think you'll remember this tomorrow, but you really should talk to her Shinsou. I don't think things went down the way Bakugou told you they did."

"Oh yeah? Well, have him admit that to my face then." Hitoshi leaned back on the couch and blacked out.

Midorya sighed looking over his truly broken best friend. "Okay Shinsou. We'll do just that."

[crystallized-shadow]

Series: Forces of Nature Rating: G Pairing: Hashirama/Mito, background Madara/Tobirama, background Itama/Izuna/Kagami Word Count: 1885 Warnings: Mourning Summary:  The Fall Equinox is upon the gods, but even as Hashirama celebrates his eternal partner's day, he still mourns the lost of his best friend.

Happy first day of Fall!!

Ko-Fi // Commission Info

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

"What has you so sad my love?" Hashirama looks up at the concerned face of his eternal partner; he knew some of the lesser gods called her cold but he couldn't see it.

"It's the end of summer."

Mito nods in understanding and Hashirama is grateful when she doesn't press for more information. Normally this day was a joyous occasion, it was the start of Mito's season and while Hashirama's own power dropped he was always excited for the Fall Equinox. However since Madara's disappearance centuries ago, the mark of another summer passed without the fiery god was a solemn event.

"How is Tobirama?" Mito asks, ever concerned about the winter god and how he's handling the day.

"The same," Hashirama admits, looking in the direction of the snowy mountain Tobirama spent most of his free time now, "I haven't seen him since the Solstice."

Mito follows her husband's gaze, worry creasing her brows as she thinks back to the solstice. Since Madara had been ripped away from them the gods always honored him on his day. No one had quite gotten over the loss, and Mito suspected they never would; Madara hadn't named a successor so there would always be blaring gap in their ranks to remind them. The hardest hit were Tobirama, Madara's eternal partner, and Izuna, Madara's younger brother, who could only stand to be in the same room as each other on this one day. As expected, Tobirama's anger was icy and his glare froze the hearts of anyone foolish enough to mention Madara's name in his presence, while Izuna's anger was as dry and scorching as droughts under his command. Izuna blamed Tobirama in part for Madara's death, it had been on his solstice the summer god had died and he was the last one to see Madara. The embodiment of droughts needed somewhere to focus his hatred and rage, least he burn the whole world, and the icy winter god seemed to be the only one who fit that need.

"I'm sorry, I'm ruining your day, aren't I?" Hashirama asks, bringing Mito back to the present. Seeing the genuine worry on the spring god's face, the Goddess of Autumn shakes her head with a gentle smile.

"Of course not my spring," Mito assures, cupping her partner's cheek and running her thumb along the markings there, "I miss the little fireball too and I know your barriers are their weakest right now." Unlike the solstices, where one god's power increase came from the other god's power loss, the equinoxes were more about balance. Hashirama was more susceptible to his emotions during the Fall Equinox and thus couldn't draw out his full power, while Mito had perfect control of her powers today.

Hashirama smiles and leans into the hand, the chilled touch making him shudder in the best of ways. "Thank you my autumn," he murmurs, shifting just enough to kiss her palm, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I dare say you'd send a lot of time wallowing in the corner and flooding the lands with Weeping Willows," Mito chuckles, ignoring her husbands overly dramatic pout. "Am I wrong?"

"No," Hashirama whines, draping his larger bulk over Mito's delicate frame, "but that's not the point."

"You have a point my darling spring?" Mito teases, easily supporting the other god's weight, "that would be a first."

"Miiittttoooo!" Hashirama shifts, wrapping his arms tightly around Mito and spinning them around. "You're so mean to me!"

Mito allows Hashirama to have his fun before the tiniest flick of her fingers has a burst of brightly color leaves sprouting on her husband's normally flowering vines. He squawks indignantly releasing her to sort through the mess she's made of his hair.

"I see some things never change," a voice chuckles, drawing both gods eyes to the God of Monsoons watching them.

"Itama!" Hashirama grins, abandoning his new hair adornments to tackle his younger brother into a hug, "I didn't think you'd come!"

"And miss my favorite sister's day? I don't think so," Itama chuckles, hugging his brother back. Once he is released he turns to hug Mito. "I hope Hashi hasn't been too much of a downer today."

"No more than Izuna I'm sure," Mito teases, enjoying watching Itama flush and stutter helplessly for a moment. "I am surprised the hothead let you leave his side."

"He more or less forced me to go," Itama admits, running a hand through the white half of his hair, "knew he was horrible company right now and didn't want me to see him like that."

"Meaning he wanted to burn something," Mito states and the monsoon god doesn't even feel bad as he shrugs.

"It's not like the humans don't deserve it," Itama points out indifferently, "they have to pay for their transgressions against us; I care not who punishes them as long as they suffer."

"Itama," Hashirama scolds, frowning at his brother's lack of caring for the humans, "humans are still a young species, we must be kind to them. Just because a few of them made a grave mistake doesn't mean they all have to suffer!"

"I doubt you would try and stop Tobirama's warpath." Even though the words aren't harsh, Hashirama still flinches back like he's been struck.

"You are the only season favorable to humans," Mito says sympathetically, brushing her nimble fingers through Hashirama's hair to both comfort him and remove the leaves he's forgotten about. "You can't expect us to care if they die, it's just not in our nature."

"Madara would have agreed with me," Hashirama sulks as he pulls Mito into a hug, "he never hated the humans."

"Perhaps he should have," an icy voice states, freezing everyone in place, "then he would still be alive. If you two hadn't insisted on your silly tradition of heading their prayers I would still have my summer beside me."

"Tobira..."

"Don't."

Before Tobirama can say anymore, a torrential downpour opens up over his head, thoroughly soaking the god.

"That's enough Tobi-nii," Itama scolds, not even bothering to flinch when narrowed red eyes sharper than ice meet his. "Hashi-nii is the life giving season; it's in his nature to care about everyone, even those undeserving."

Tobirama is silent for a long minute as the water falls from him as snow. "I know," he finally admits, his anger draining away to leave him feeling hallow, "but I can't forgive them."

"No one is asking you to," Mito points out, smiling gently when Tobirama's lost gaze focuses on her, "we are only asking you to be fair to Hashirama."

"I'm sorry Anija," Tobirama sighs, hesitantly holding his arms apart as a peace offering, "I didn't mean it."

"I know Otouto," Hashirama mutters, his usually bright grin long since muted as he hugs his brother close, "even I can't forgive the humans that took him; I too have forsaken their lineage."

"Thank you." Tobirama feels the ice around him thaw just a little bit as he lets himself selfishly take comfort from the still grieving spring god. It was only now that the winter god remembered he wasn't the only one suffering; Hashirama had known Madara the longest, the two seasons centuries older than the rest of them. For Hashirama to forsake a whole line of humans, rather than just the culprits, truly spoke to how deeply wounded Spring's heart was.

"This is touching and all, but hasn't the rainy season passed?"

"I'm standing right here you damn brush fire," Itama huffs, without bothering to turn and face the God of Wildfires, who just strolls over with a grin and drapes himself over the monsoon god.

"I'm surprised Izuna let you go," he murmurs in a pale ear, "I know I wouldn't have."

"Kagami," Hashirama whines, drawing the fiery eyes so similar to Madara's yet not even close, to him. "Could you maybe not molest my brother in front of me?"

"Of course," Kagami chuckles, his grin overly innocent as he steps away from Itama, "though that implies my touches are unwanted, which can't be true, right Ita?"

"Of course not!" Itama is quick to assure, able to see the genuine worry under the exaggerated pout; their relationship was still new enough that Kagami questioned almost every move he made.

"What brings you here Kagami?" Mito asks, smoothly drawing the attention away from the couple, "I would have thought you'd be raising a forest fire or two to send off the season."

"I already did, and Izuna asked me to leave him alone so I came to find Itama," Kagami says with a shrug and Mito narrows her eyes at the minor god.

"Let me see it." Mito orders in a tone that just dares Kagami to disobey, holding out her hand expectantly.

Kagami sighs but rolls his sleeve up, revealing the deep burns crisscrossing up his entire arm. "I'm fine," he grumbles but offers his arm to Mito anyway.

"You know better than to let your magic rage out of control like that," Mito scolds as she carefully pushes her own magic into the wound. Healing wasn't her specialty, but with her perfect control it was child's play to sooth the damaged nerves and encourage Kagami's natural healing to start up.

"You know I can't stop it," Kagami mutters, eyes staying firmly on his feet as the older goddess works. He was still young, only a dozen or so millennia old, and while his control was never great, it was a lot better before Madara had died. The summer god had been the one to start training the young wildfire; Izuna had since taken over but too much hurt and rage existed in both for either of them to safely use large quantities of fire magic. Kagami usually managed to do his job with the spells he already knew, but occasionally his emotions still got the better of him.

"Did Izuna push you this far?" Itama asks, because he needs to know the older god wasn't taking advantage of their new love.

"No," Kagami sighs, carefully flexing his fingers after Mito releases his arm, "but seeing how sad he was pissed me off and I couldn't not make those bastard burn!"

For a moment no one speaks, but then a bitter chuckle slips from Tobirama. "You remind me of him," he says simply, surprising Kagami, "I suppose it's time your training started back up, isn't it?"

"Izuna can't," Kagami reminds the winter god, who just rolls his eyes.

"As if I was suggesting that desert," Tobirama scoffs, "I'll train you."

"But...you're the God of Winter."

"And?" Tobirama challenges, summoning a fireball to his hand, "my summer and I shared much during our eons together."

Kagami stares at the display, quickly following Tobirama when the older god turns to leave.

"Did anyone else know he could do that?" Itama asks after the two are gone, wondering if that had truly been his brother.

"I had no idea," Hashirama admits, staring in the direction Tobirama had went.

"I'm not surprised," Mito chuckles, "Winter and Summer were always the mold breakers. This will be good for him."

"I fear for the humans even more now," Hashirama mutters, horrified by the thought of the wildfires Kagami would raise once he had a better grasp on his powers.

[yukiwrites]

For a Sweet Life Ahead

Thank you so much for commissioning me, @okami-chan227! I hope you like it!

Summary: Hazel had chosen to sacrifice herself, leaving her beloved husband, Gaius, and son, Morgan, behind. They could barely went on without her, but after two years, Gaius finally, finally...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

"I still have a few sweet rewards left for you, my love... Don't... don't go running away just yet." A somber voice sounded to the now empty meadow in front of him.

Grima had been defeated.

But, gods, at what cost?

Hazel chose to sacrifice herself so as to save humankind; which she surely did -- never again would the land be plagued by the Fell Dragon Grima.

But there was one man that, no matter how proud of her selfless choice he was, would never be happy with her choice: Her husband, Gaius.

He had finally found a sense of purpose by her side. He had thought about his misspent youth, about pursuing fairer trades to work with, as long as she was by his side.

"Don't... disappear on me like that, Sweetheart." His voice croaked once again, kneeling by the only thing left of her: her tattered tactician coat, hanging by a levin sword just over the gargantuan skull of Grima.

He slowly picked up the coat, hugging it with the utmost of care, -- what if it disappeared on him as well? -- trying to find Hazel's smell on it.

It only smelled of ash and death, like everywhere around the Origin Peak.

Gaius' shoulders sagged, his eyes burning, though they lacked tears.

If those bonds prove strong enough, they may yet keep you in this reality. However, not even a thousand human friendships surpass the dragon's grip. In truth, you will almost certainly cease to exist. Naga had told them a few days previous; the blasted day Hazel got that absurd idea.

"What... mankind, Sweetheart. What future offspring." He cursed under his breath, his shoulders trembling as his feet crumpled on the floor, digging his face into her coat. "What about ME, Hazel? The one you're leaving behind? I'm not like those hopeful saps. I can't have such a fluttery idea in my head that you'll come back. I can't..." He sobbed, the tears finally finding their way to his eyes. "If you're not here with me, I don't really have anything to make me believe in a better future..."

His dry sobs continued, unaware of an approaching set of steps.

It wasn't as though Gaius was alone in waiting for Hazel.

No.

There was also someone else who not only loved her more than anything, had only Hazel in his memories.

"M-Mother? Please no, don't leave me!" Morgan cried out after seeing her abandoned levin sword and tattered coat in his Father's arms.

Gaius widened his eyes, listening to his child's voice. Morgan!

The thief got up as fast as his wobbly legs could lift him, turning to the  ginger-haired young man in front of him.

They both cried tears for their beloved family: the Mother, the Wife, the Tactician.

Gaius opened his arms, Hazel's coat hanging over his shoulder. Morgan didn't hesitate and ran into his father's chest, sobbing loudly.

"Mother!! Please, come back, oh, Mother!" He cried, making Gaius harden his chin and caress his son's head.

Their era's Morgan hadn't been born yet.

Was it foolish to hold onto such a stretched out hope?

To hope that Hazel would come back in time for Morgan's year of birth so their own little Morgan could be born?

"She'll come back, kiddo." He swallowed with difficulty, sniffling. "She'll come back to us."

It wasn't just Hazel who gave Gaius strength. As sappy as it sounded, the friends he'd made along the way all made sure to do all they could to help him.

Chrom kept Gaius employed by the Shepherds, giving him a home in the outskirts of Ylisse so he had a roof to wait for Hazel under. Morgan lived there with him, his energy hitting a record low point. His future-past companions all made sure to pay him constant visits, never letting him nor Gaius alone for long.

They didn't need to stay on their own, not without Hazel.

Libra constantly asked Gaius for help during the construction of his orphanage, knowing how devoted the former thief could be as long as there were sweets involved (he made sure to ask his wife to bake a lot whenever Gaius and Morgan came to help).

Life went on.

Gaius never got used to his cold bedside, neither did Morgan get used to waking up to a world without his mother in it.

Two years passed by, both Father and Son somehow never losing hope, as slim as it looked each passing day. Alongside Chrom, Lissa and half of the Shepherds, they looked around empty fields in Ylisse, hoping to find her just lying there, napping.

Like the first time she joined their ranks.

Like the countless times Hazel and Gaius just lied over a green patch of grass to enjoy a cool shade and doze off during a calm day.

Like the day he proposed to her, choosing a beautiful and warm day to bring her to an open field so she could be around the nature she's always loved.

Gaius always went through the motions of patrolling the fields around Ylisse, his heart hardening every single time he came back empty-handed.

A bit before dawn, he and Morgan had parted ways, each one heading to a corner of the city. They would only meet again late at night, or in the following morning, Gaius' heart already wanting his son to be back.

He was the only thing that kept the fire of hope kindled inside a tired soldier's heart.

His heavy steps took him to a field so much alike the one he proposed to Hazel, he stood there watching the sun rise. He watched as the blinding light ever so slowly illuminated all areas around him.

Before, covered in darkness; now, little by little being uncovered.

White skin, brown boots.

Gaius widened his eyes, blinking and rubbing them to bring himself into reality.

The sun was rising, but Gaius' heart stopped.

Short brown hair being shifted by the chilly morning wind, her inner blouse surely not enough to warm her up in this weather.

Gaius' legs felt weak as he looked at the sight in front of him: Hazel, sleeping peacefully over the grass, the sun lazily illuminating her body, as though she was an ethereal being.

He opened his mouth, though no words left it, his throat too dry as he extended his hand forward.

One step, then another, followed by yet another. "Haz-" he stuttered, his feet finally gaining the strength to walk and then run towards the faraway sight.

He was never a man of faith, but O gods. O, mighty gods above.

Don't let this be another illusion.

"Hazel!!" He cried out, running at full speed towards his wife, seeing the handmade ring he gave her glitter with the sunlight.

Hazel's left hand twitched in response to a beloved voice. She felt her head throb and her eyes heavy.

But that voice... that desperate voice calling her name.

She wanted to answer it.

"Ga...ius?" She said in a hoarse voice, the darkness covering her sight slowly lifting as she managed to open her eyes. "Gaius..."

The former thief's jaw trembled as he kneeled beside his beloved.

Her voice, it was... it was just as he remembered.

He hadn't forgotten a single trait of hers!

"Hazel, Sweetheart, are you really here? I'm not dreaming again, am I?" He fought a smile, his beautiful green eyes shining with tears.

"Why are you crying, silly?" Hazel lifted her hand inadvertently, drying a stubborn tear that fell before the others. "We won the war, didn't we?"

Her memory foggy, Hazel still didn't truly understand what had happened.

"Sweet buttercup, you're here! You're really here!" He sobbed, wrapping his arms around her, sitting her up to his level.

He squeezed her with everything he got, never wanting to wake up.

Her warmth, her smell, the fresh scent of grass over her hair, her uncertain hands grasping his cloak... Oh, Hazel! She was really back!

Blinking, the tactician finally placed herself in reality, quickly hugging her husband back. "Gaius!" She cried.

They had won.

Their bonds had survived the Fell Dragon's grip!

"Never do that again, you hear me?" He sobbed, digging his face into her silky, short hair. She was really there! "Never leave me again."

Trembling, Hazel squeezed the life out of her husband, rubbing her face into his trapezius. "I won't, oh, I won't, Gaius. Thank you for believing in me, for believing that I would come back. I love you."

"Love..." He stuttered, tears streaming down his face. How much he wanted to hear these words! "I love you too, Sweetheart. More than anything." He slowly pressed their foreheads together, feeling her breath on his lips.

"Thief of my heart..." She sniffled, cupping his face before slightly touching their lips after what it seemed like a lifetime.

Hazel's taste into his mouth was better than any kind of sweet he could ever have the pleasure to savor.

It was hers only, his only.

Soon he opened his mouth to insert his tongue into hers, pulling her closer to him.

They remembered their countless kisses, their bodies acting accordingly, feeling as though they had come back home.

Their very own home: each other.

They stayed in that field for hours, just enjoying each other's presences. Hazel had Gaius talk about what had happened while she was away and cried the moment he told her two whole years had passed.

"I have two years worth of candy at home to share with you, Sweetheart. I've been barely eatin' them lately." He commented as they walked hand-in-hand back to their home. Gaius wanted to savor her company on his own before telling everyone Hazel was back.

He deserved that much.

"Oh, Gaius. You're joking, right? You got heart palpitations whenever you didn't have sweets before!"

"Hah, yeah... I'm having the most intense craving EVER, you got no idea. Let's hurry back home, c'mon!" He looked away before squeezing her hand and pulling her through the alleys.

"Wai- hahah!" She laughed, closing her eyes and letting herself be led by her husband.

They arrived to an empty home, though the air inside it wasn't as dreary as it was just that morning.

Hazel's presence made everything change; even Gaius' stomach started to plead for food and sweets the moment he'd calmed down.

Or rather, the moment they set foot inside, a loud rumbling noise was heard, making Hazel snort and laugh loudly.

"Do you want me to bake something for you? We can go down to the market and-"

"No." He hugged her from behind. "No; I have a stash here we can share before Morgan comes home. We can go shopping after he arrives."

Hazel held her husband's hands over her stomach, feeling oh so loved her heart was fit to burst. Gaius leaned his chin over her shoulder.

"'Sides, I want you all to myself for a bit. You're popular, so everyone'll want to come over the moment they find out you're back."

"My, what a possessive husband I ended up marrying with." She giggled, feeling a slight hint of guilt poke her heart. She didn't regret her choice of sacrificing herself, but just knowing how much pain she'd brought to the ones she loved the most, to the ones she wanted to protect the most, she couldn't help but feel sad.

Gaius kissed her neck, making her snap out of her gloomy thoughts. "So, about that stash? Let's go devour it already." He trailed his kisses from her neck to her jaw, then slowly turned her around to him, placing more and more kisses over her lips, biting them afterwards.

No sweets would beat that taste, but he sure as hell wasn't going to say no to that amazing stash he had hidden away!

He knew she was going to feel bad about her choice for a while, but he wasn't about to let her think about it. They'd drown themselves into each other and into sweets for the rest of their life, if needed.

Hazel giggled under her husband's avalanche of kisses, cupping his face with her hands. "Lead the way, thief of my heart. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you -- and with our sweets."

"Now you said it, Sweetheart." He grabbed her by the waist, guiding her to the back of the house. "For a lifetime together, with no sacrificing this time." He picked a bonbon up, giving another one to Hazel and mimicked a toast.

"Promise." Hazel nodded as they touched their bonbons, consolidating their promise and their improvised toast.

That was the first day of the end of their lives, and Hazel couldn't wait to live it all beside her beloved Gaius.

[thekrazykeke]

This is so much fun, I swear before Jesus! As a big family person myself, writing about the reader’s family is cathartic. Mainly because families spill the tea in my stories more than the main character ever will 😙🤣

Boop.

It’s easy to get caught up with Erik, to be swept up in his energy. Although you’d tried to maintain a ‘slow and steady wins the race’ mentality when you’d agreed to be his girl, somehow, someway, the two of y’all just dived headfirst into a relationship. 

More often than not, you ended up staying the night over at his crib and you didn’t always use the excuse of wanting to play video games to go see him. He surprised you by how affectionate and touchy-feely he is, though you tried to get used to it and reciprocate in kind, you had been on your own for a good stretch and some habits are hard to break. It didn’t irritate him (so much) anymore and he even took it with good grace, seeming to make it his mission to wrap an arm around your waist that more often, kiss the back of your neck, or pull you into his lap, etc.

Nadia noticed the change in y’all dynamic and while she said that she approved, there was the feeling that she was distancing herself from you, which hurt, if you were being honest, since the two of y’all had hit it off instantly and been flatmates for over two years. 

However, you weren’t the type to beg anyone to be friends with you if they didn’t want to. 

The independent streak that your mother had nurtured in you your whole life wasn’t disappearing anytime soon, if at all, and occasionally, it clashed with Erik’s habit of spoiling you with too much of, well, just about everything: clothes, shoes, hair, nails, etc. Hell, he had paid off your portion of the rent for six months (you’d managed to talk him out of paying off the entire year just barely). While you would like to say that you were happy, and most of the time you truly are, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Girl, you stupid.” Breanna, your older cousin, stated bluntly. “This nigga is payin’ bills, showering you with gifts, and, wait, is the dick good?”

You swirled the spoon in the bowl of ice cream, unable to meet her eyes. “So good.” 

“Did you hit ya head or somethin’? I should walk out of this cafe right now. You called me alllllll the way out here with a SOS text message and I’m thinkin’ it’s a serious situation.” Giving you the stink eye, she stabbed her slice of pie viciously. “Bitch, you is living the dream.” 

“It is a serious situation.” Ignoring her ‘girl, stop it!’ look, you purse your lips, “Like, I don’t know where he works, what he does for a living. He told me a little bit about his childhood, but...” 

“Y/N, baby cousin, I love you like a sister, and because I care about you so much, I’m going to say something that might hurt your feelings.” Breanna comments, putting down her fork.

“Oh, damn. Lay it on me then, cuz.”

“Your current boo is not your stank ass ex, Mitchell. Girl, you need to celebrate, apparently yo pussy so good, you got a hotep willing to be a househusband. I mean, damn. Give me lessons!” Expressively, she gesticulated as her voice gained an octave. Customers glanced in y’all direction and you laughed nervously before glaring at her. “Sorry, sorry.” Breanna apologized, tone lowering again. “Does he know about Mitchell?”

“Can we change the subject from that whack ass nigga?” You complain.

Mitchell Sanders had been your high school sweetheart and the two of y’all had dated a year and a half through college. During the final year of your relationship, he had been increasingly short tempered and critical of everything about you. While you were young, dumb and in love, you weren’t too sprung that you didn’t love your melanin skin and his passive-aggressive, caustic comments about ‘if you were a little lighter...’ only frustrated and depressed you enough to eventually dump his ass. Not even two months later, he started dating Cassandra Wynters, a preppy white soccer player. Last you’d heard about the happy couple, they’d been racing for the nearest courthouse as she was pregnant.

“No, because that nigga got yo silly-dilly ass thinkin’ that yo future baby daddy is a no good asshole wit a white girlfriend on the side.” 

“Oh God. You know what? I’ma head on out of here.” You try to flag down the waiter, only Breanna kicks you in the shin. “Ow, bitch! Mercy!” You hiss through your teeth. “The hell?”

"You such a baby.” She rolled her eyes. “Sit wit me for a few extra minutes before I gotta go back home.” Breanna instructed sternly, in the way that only family members really could command somebody to do anything. “This the only time I get some personal time away from Miguel and Tiana.”

“Oooh, how are your kids?” You pick up your spoon, the melted sweet dripping off the end and back into the bowl. 

Snorting, her tone is fond as she says, “Bad as hell as usual. Dre’s watching them right now so it’s all good. They always behave for they daddy.” Mushy expression changing quickly, she pointed a finger at you accusingly, “Girl, don’t even try and change the subject, though! You need to communicate with ya man so that he can address these issues early in the relationship. I will not stand by and let you sabotage yourself because you scared that you feelin’ this dude a little too much.” 

“Whatever, Bre. I’m done talkin’ about this for today.” 

Even though you said that, it lingered at the back of your mind the rest of the day. Work was routine so you didn’t mess up due to inattentiveness, thank goodness, and you couldn’t talk to Nadia since right now the two of y’all were in some strange type of friendship/flatmate limbo. 

"Wassup?” That’s the greeting Erik gave you before giving you a peck on the lips. “...Ay, you good?” He asked, pulling back a little to scrutinize you carefully. 

‘Fuck, he’s figured it out!’ Reaching a hand up, you place it against the nape of his neck, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Mm, better now. I mean, heh, why wouldn’t I be?”

Score one for being overcompensating. 

Eyebrows raising, for a heart stopping moment you thought he’d call you out on your bullshit, but Erik just shook his head. “...Okay. Good day at work then. I can work wit that. I’m sayin’ though, you wanted to check out that restaurant on McMillan and 4th West Ave? I made a reservation if you still wanna go...?” 

“The restaurant with the skyline view of the city and that famous seafood chef that cooks his food fresh every day?” Eyes lighting up, you launch yourself into his arms and he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. “Yes, yes, yes! Please!” Hands framing his face, you kissed him again, this time more intently, feeling his fingers squeezing your thighs. “And afterwards we can come back here. You let me say thank you again, properly?I might even get on my knees.”

Erik set you down on your feet. Bodies brushing up against each other, there’s no mistaking the feeling of him being half hard. “Don’t start that shit. Teasing a nigga before we go out in public.” Popping you on the ass, he snorted at the squeal you let out. “Hurry up. That reservation at seven thirty.” 

You gaped at him momentarily, turning to leave, “Why didn’t you say that at first?!”

“I’m tellin’ you now!” 

Last minute as it was, the two of y’all showed up literally dressed to slay. All eyes were on the both of you. The question in all of those pale faces were ‘How can these negroes afford to eat here?’, if not phrased exactly like that, the point still stood. 

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care for once. 

It didn’t matter how Erik knew the chef personally and that they shook hands as if old friends, or how the table he’d booked was strategically placed right near the area where the chef worked and you wouldn’t miss a thing while he cooked. 

For tonight, you had decided to let those fears and anxieties go. To enjoy this date with ya man.

Then the weirdest thing happened. 

“Y/N?” A nasally, high pitched voice called. "Oh my God, Y/N! Hey, hi!” Waving excitedly is a slightly plump, but cute waitress. Handing off a tray of drinks to another waiter, she hurried over to the table. “It’s been so long.”

“Uhh, baby?” Erik is understandably confused and so are you.

“I’m sorry. Do I...know you?”

“Oh! Oh, duh!” Slapping her forehead, she went through a quick demonstration of your alma mater’s hand sign. “It’s me! Cassandra!” She added, when it became clear that you were still drawing a blank.

“O-Ooooh, Cas. Wooooow, girl. Hey.” Your greeting lacked enthusiasm and Erik raised an eyebrow at you. You valiantly ignored this as you grasped for something nice to say. “Lookin’ good, girl. Shoot, I ain’t even recognize you.”

“It’s okay.” Heavily, she dropped into a seat next to Erik and yourself after grabbing a chair from another table. “I know I put on a few pounds since college and I cut my hair.” 

“Nooo!” Waving your hands frantically, you shake your head, “It’s not that. It’s just...I thought you’d be on TV, living your dream as a soccer player and everything.” Erik ‘coughed’ into his fist. “Sorry! Cassandra, this is my man, Erik. Baby, this is Cassandra Wynters.”

He ignored her outstretched hand. “And we on a date. So...maybe get back to your job?” 

As if you’d only just recognized her uniform, you gasped, hoping it’s believable. “Oh damn! I didn’t mean to take up all your time with my chit-chatting. I don’t want you to get in trouble, and we are on a date, so... Rain check. I’ll have the, um, maitre d’ give you my contact info.” 

Cheeks flushed, she raised slowly from her position, “Right. So sorry, that was rude and inappropriate, my just running over here.” Laughing awkwardly, a little piggish snort escaped and you sipped at your drink to avoid laughing in her face. “I’ll catch you later then.” 

“Yep. Ta-ta!” Dismissing her, you turn your full attention onto Erik once again, relaxing only when she walked away. 

“That musta felt good, huh?” Erik is excellent at reading your body language and cues. You grin evilly and he snorted. “I can’t believe she just ran her ass over here like y’all was in a crowded subway station or something.”

Your shake your head and thank the waiter who refills the glasses while another takes the extra chair away again. “Some people have no home training!” You state in your best posh voice. 

Placing a hand over his chest, he played along, effecting a ‘shocked’ tone, “Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?”

It was very likely that y’all made all those white folks big mad with how y’all were laughing and carrying on. Enjoying the food and each other’s company. And when it came time to leave, Erik’s hand on your waist is a warm comfort as you catch sight of Cassandra being scolded by the maitre d’, or her boss, or whoever, at the corner of your eye. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other and you’re the first to look away, tilting your head up to kiss at Erik’s jaw, an action that caused him to startle briefly before he captured your lips in a kiss that toed the line between being indecent and sweet.  

Maybe its God, or karma, or something else telling you to stop questioning every single thing about the mystery surrounding this man, that when it was time to know, he would tell you. To enjoy being the central focus of someone’s attention and who actually, truly, wants to be with you and only you. That everything would work out. Whatever the lesson to be learned here, the thought, ‘I am so blessed.’ Kept reverberating through your brain on a loop. And yeah, you gave that dimple cheeked fool some road head while on the way back to his crib. 

Can you really be blamed? 

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 6

We get some more hints about Dex’s and Andi’s past together.

Their last meeting hadn’t exactly gone over well, what with the whole, Andi soaring away with Dex’s ship, leaving him bleeding and dying on a fire moon thing.

Who edited this?

Update: Someone finally did, it seems, because this has been updated to:

Their last moments together hadn’t exactly gone well, what with the whole “Andi soaring away with Dex’ s ship, leaving him bleeding and dying on a barren moon” thing.

So uh. Better, I guess.

As with any shitty book with a STRONK FEMAIL CHARAKTOR, we must -- MUST -- wank on about how fucking amazing and hot she is, because she can’t just be brutal and off-putting and human, she has to be HOT while she’s doing physically exhausting shit that can both get bloody and sweaty, so let’s take a look at this garbage, shall we?

Godstars, she was magnificent, a creature that deserved to release her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to bring her to Cyprian’s feet.

So she’s so cool that ... she deserves to murder people, just because how cool she is? And capturing her is totes worth letting people get murdered?

I would maybe understand it if she was a massive threat to all intergalactic civilization and that throwing armies at her is the smaller price to pay, but she’s just one schmuck who does petty smuggling and escort jobs. Or does Dex just want his ex back and he’s ready to let people die for it? Because these are just space cops she’s killing and he’s ready to sacrifice, they’re just dudes doing their jobs.

What the fuck am I reading.

Update: This has been changed to:

Godstars, she was magnificent; a creature who had released her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to be the one who finally brought her to the general’s feet.

Oh, so now she already has released her wrath on the world, regardless of whether or not she deserved to? 

So Dex is happy to let other people die for him just so he can brag about capturing his ex? 

I’m glad we cleared that up. What a guy.

He hadn’t seen her in years, but he’d heard the rumors. He hadn’t truly known if she truly could wield those weapons with the a glory and grace that drew blood and split bones.

Why was he even questioning this? He’s been bragging about how he’s trained her and taught her everything she knows, and now he’s wondering if she could wield her own weapons?

Is Dex an idiot?

*looks at art* Forget I asked.

Gone was the girl young woman he’d once known, that shivering thing he’d found bruised and broken in the wilderness of Adhira in the markets of Uulveca.

In her place stood the warrior he’d trained and hardened and turned into something devilishly delicious.

He Dex reached for his gun as the Bloody Baroness attacked.

Devilishly. Delicious.

Shinsay. “Bloody Baroness” isn’t intimidating, alright? It’s not scary. Please stop this nonsense.

Andi and Dex have themselves a fight. Well, Andi kills a buncha dudes (+10 points to Gryffindor, Sasha managed to do what her hero SJM couldn’t, and that’s having her killer character actually kill someone on-screen) and Dex just kinda stands around in the background thinking about how hot she is.

We get a pointless POV switch.

The world slowed, but Andi moved like a flash of light.

Uh-huh.

“Take out her crew!” Dex shouted. “I want her alive.” 

“Take them out!” Dex shouted. “Save Androma for me.”

His words sent a spike of rage straight to through Andi’s heart.

Spike of rage.

A ball of white light shot past Andi’s shoulder. An enemy was blasted backward, already a corpse as he slammed into the door frame.

“Oh, that was a good shot,” Gilly said, giggling and brandishing her double-trigger gun.

Weren’t you just weeping and losing your shit four seconds ago?

I’m loving this mood dissonance. 

“I want the floor stained with their blood!” Andi yelled to her crew above the chaos.

This book is sending a blade of edge into my heart, I’ll tell ya that.

Update: If any of you were wondering where this comes from, this sequence has been updated to include Breck and her BULLETPROOF SKIN. The girls hide behind her and there’s emphasis on how USELESS the bullets are, because apparently these Patrolmen not only have Stormtrooper aim, they also haven’t heard of the concept of surrounding their target or moving a little bit to the side to get an angle on it. Or maybe Breck also has the ability to expand her physical form and encase her crewmates like a living hamster ball. 

Hey Shinsay. This doesn’t in any way justify your characters using swords and fists and whips in a fight. If anything, it just draws more attention to how fiking stupid it is. 

If you’re wondering how the fuck Andi survives this fight without being blown to bits while using katanas against dudes with guns, here’s where I admit and brag about the fact that I totally predicted that she’d deflect or slice through bullets, which yes, she actually does that.

Andi lashed out as a Patrolman shot at her, her sword barely cutting through the bullet before it could hammer itself into her throat.

You know, you’d think that Sasha, who supposedly reads a lot, would be aware of dumb shit like this and know not to do it, but alas.

This might work in anime or video games, but try to avoid this kind of garbage nonsense when you’re writing, because it’s so dumb that it takes the reader out of the experience. Unless you’re writing a comedy, just ... if you have someone slice through bullets, please reconsider.

Usually I’m not one to tell people not to do something, especially when it comes to writing, but sometimes you just gotta take a step back and look at the sins of humanity.

Also ... and I don’t know shit about physics, but if Andi has enough strength to cut through a fired bullet and her sword withstands this process without breaking, and the bullet clearly isn’t deflected but cut through, meaning its momentum is still carrying it forward and the impact of the sword didn’t slow it down, Andi just made two fucking bullets, or one bullet with its butt cut off.

She didn’t even deflect the thing.

She should be dead.

Oh my god.

Update: She now deflects the bullets with the cuffs on her wrists that “protect” her burned skin. So that’s why they were written in! This smells very much of Wonder Woman but it’s better than SLICING BULLETS IN HALF.

Seriously, Shinsay, did you read my snark? You’ve edited out all the best bits that I’ve complained about while leaving the bland and boring garbage intact. Why didn’t you hire ME as your editor? I could’ve made this GOOD. Or at least passable. But I’d charge you more than you could afford, because I’d have to rewrite the whole book for you.

“What’ s wrong, Dex? You don’t want to come out and play with me?” Andi said, her voice a dangerous purr.

Dex chuckled, his mahogany hair falling across one brown eye as he stepped forth to meet her gaze. “You were always one for theatrics, Androma. My little bitter ballerina.”

Dex’s hair color has been changed from “midnight” to “mahogany”. What, did SJM call you and told you to tone down the Rhys if you wanted her to pretend to like your book in public?

Also, bitter ballerina? Really? Who the fuck talks like this?

“These three can live,” she said, nodding her head at the final Patrolmen. “It’s you I want a fight with, Dextro.”

Yes, his name is actually Dextro. At least the book admits it’s fucking silly.

With a crackle of her swords, she lunged forward and cut off three heads in one scissoring slice.

#edgy

Still better than Sardines tho. Andi actually DOES SHIT.

Zenith is officially better than Throne of Glass.

After a bunch of nonsense fighting that I can’t even be assed to keep track of, Andi walks into Dex’s trap. His trap is basically even more dudes with guns, except this time Andi can’t fight them, for some reason, despite doing it just now, no problem.

Plot!

Update: Breck isn’t there anymore, so I guess it makes slightly more sense this time.

Dex notices the cuffs on Andi’s wrists, just so he can give the reader some info about them, I spose:

They were unbreakable, just like her swords. But the cuffs weren’t just an accessory. They held together the burned flesh on her wrists from an accident long ago. She didn’t have the privilege of seeing a doctor at the time, so her skin had become damaged beyond repair.

Without Dex’ s gift, she wouldn’t have the full function of her wrists and forearms—likely wouldn’t have the strength to lift those swords she was so fond of.

It gave him a sick kind of pleasure to know she still had the cuffs, a reminder of his kindness to her when she was at her weakest. A part of him she could never shed from herself.

So you’re telling me that ... Not only are her wounds still open under those cuffs, but that installing those cuffs was somehow faster and less expensive than finding a doctor who could patch them up for you? 

Or that they “healed,” and then, instead of paying for surgery, Dex paid for some GLASS CUFFS to slap on the wounds instead? 

And that Andi, during all this time and after presumably getting some money, hasn’t had her fucked-up wrists fixed, and instead keeps these cuffs on her still-fucked wrists even as they remind her of Dex Dogtective?

The wording implies that she physically cannot remove those cuffs without reopening the wounds.

Why did she have ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS METAL PLATES ON HER CHEEKS INSTALLED, WHEN SHE HAS AN ACTUAL WOUND THAT SEEMS A BIT MORE URGENT? Wouldn’t fixing a burn be cheaper in this hyper-tech world than grafting fucking metal into your flesh?

WHY ISN’T SHE IN IMMENSE PAIN AT ALL TIMES WITH THOSE GLASS CUFFS ON HER BURN WOUNDS. HOW FUCKING BADLY WERE HER WRISTS DAMAGED IF SHE CAN STILL BREAK PEOPLE’S NECKS AND WIELD HER SWORDS NO PROBLEM?!

HOW EXACTLY ARE THOSE GLASS CUFFS ATTACHED THAT THEY SOMEHOW HOLD HER SKIN TOGETHER BUT ALSO ALLOW HER WRISTS FULL MOBILITY?!

AHFSJFHGDKFJHGDSKFJHGSDKJFHGDSKJHF

“If they move, my guards will shoot.” Dex waved a hand, and half the men angled their light rifles upwards, where toward Andi’s motionless crew stood motionless.

The blue-skinned pilot from Adhira, the giantess beside her. And that psychopathic red-headed child, glaring down at Dex with the cold calculation of a seasoned killer.

Dex just waves a hand. Not his own hand, just a random hand he found on the floor.

I just remembered that their crew is literally just four people and I’m so tired.

Dex Dogtective takes Andi to some room on the Marauder to talk to somebody.

Cold calculation flashed in [Andi’s] eyes.

Oh, just like the cold calculation in Gilly’s eyes barely half a page ago?

Who edited this?

Update: "Cold calculation” has been changed to “disgust.”

Also, this is in reaction to Dex telling Andi to sit. When she refuses, he’s super impressed.

Instead, she stood with her back up against the wall, her gray eyes roving left and right.

Dex had taught her well.

Did you teach her not to sit on command, like the opposite of a dog trick?

I would not expect anything less from Dex Dogtective. 

For the first time today, despite everything Dex had thrown at her, she actually looked stricken. Shocked. Pained.

“Hello, Androma,” the man on the screen said. “I’ve been searching for you a very, very long time.”

The drama!

[enniewritesathing]

Based on this article. This is a SUPER long read, so... it’s behind the cut (RIP mobile users, maybe), and just some stuff... rambling even, lol. But, it’s an info dump, some insights, silliness... etc...

On Preparation:

Brian: “Oh, lord. I don’t know who’s crazier during training -- me or John.”

John: “It’s both of us.”

B: “Yeah... listen, when fight week is here in this house? It feels like every seam is going to burst. It’s chaos, it’s anxiety, the tension.”

J: “Ah, sorry. Hey, you told me to take it outside, so I did. There’s a small gym in the backyard. Pads, mirrors, the treadmill, I even hooked up the soundsystem. I’m usually in there twice a day. Three times if I’m lucky.”

B: “I usually don’t see him for days at a time. Sometimes it works out, because I’m on rotation shifts at the hospital. Then I worry that I’ll see this [jerks thumb at John] dumbass on a stretcher. It’s one thing to push yourself, but to the point of injury. Again.”

J: “He’s never going to let me live that one down.”

B: [matter-of-fact look] “He almost died.”

J: “And you call me dramatic? Brian, I didn’t [in mocking tone] “almost die”. I’ll tell that story later. I have a bunch. Before he kicked me out of the house, I’d practice in what’s now the green room. Wait-- what about when we were living at ina’s house? You wanna...?”

B: “No, what do you do now.”

J: “Ah. Well, wake up in the morning, around 4. Go out for a five mile run. Come back, stretching, then drills for three hours. If I’m lucky, there’s breakfast, full of carbs. 30 minute rest, then back to more drills. Then, shadow box with the mirrors for... [makes vague hand gesture]. When I’m at that point, it’s easy get lost in it. After that, more drills, cool down run, stretches, meditate, then dinner. Repeat until three days before a fight. It’s all meditation at that point. I’m not worried about making weight or anything like that.”

B: “Y’know, I didn’t realize we had that many mirrors until I watched.”

J: “I didn’t either. How many do we have?”

B: “I counted twelve. And they’re [makes wide armed gesture]. Sometimes, I have to pull him out of whatever he’s got going on in his mind. That’s how intense he gets. It’s amazing.”

J: “Really? [raises eyebrow] You said you watched...”

B: “Well, duh, I’m gonna watch. You’re so focused... a couple of times, I watched for an hour and you didn’t notice. Like I said, I don’t know where he goes in his mind. There’s a certain... energy that he has. It’s also the same energy that makes me a little anxious and it drives me a little crazy because I keep... visualizing something’s going to happen during the fight itself. I know-- I know it’s weird to think that far ahead, but I think about all the things that can go wrong.”

J: “Except the times... yeah.”

B: “Yeah. I have to get in that mindset when he’s getting ready for a fight, but I am not... I never feel ready and honestly, I never will.. But, when I watch him shadowbox, the way he moves and how sharp he is, how he flows, hell, the way he looks. He fights beautiful. That and those shorts you always wear... [smiles] hmm. I love it when he wears those and he has his hair down, and he’s all sweaty--”

J: [slightly embarrassed] “Babe, please.”

B: “But behind the beauty is something... I’d say even demonic.”

J: “Oh my god. You’re like the third person to say that. My opponents, I understand. But my own boyfriend? Demonic?”

B: “There’s a better word for it -- ah, scary. There are a couple of photos we have that’s in his uncle’s gym that... scares me. Because it’s like looking at a stranger or a peek at something you’re not supposed to see. I admit the one where you’re just standing there, just covered in blood is my favorite... but the one that scares me is...”

J: [thoughtful look] “Which one? I have a lot of them.”

B: “Over the trophy case. The one with you screaming and your eyes are super wide and hair wild. You looked possessed.”

J: “Oh! Yeah, yeah, that one? That’s probably the scariest I’ve ever seen myself. It’s like ‘holy shit, what did I become?’” And it’s only for a few seconds I’m like that. The funny thing is I don’t remember doing it and I don’t remember that fight...”

B: “Hell, when your eyes do ‘The Thing’.

J: “Oh, like this? [he turns to Brian. His eyes widen slightly for a moment and Brian shirks]’

B: Augh! Yes, that one. I’ve watched your opponents shrink during the staredown. You scare the shit out them before they do anything.”

J: “Really? Am I that scary?”

B: “Let me put it this way, if I never knew you like I do, I would say yes. Since I do, and I know how you work, then no. I realize that you’re a different person in the ring. I don’t know him other than what I see. The John in the ring is vicious and sinister. Dominant. I would say a monster. [sees John frowns] But that’s the only time I see that John. This John is the John I know and love dearly, and I guess no one sees that side of him, or even think that he’s even capable of it. He’s a very sweet person, so of course for me it’s scary at first, then I have that mindset.” [shrugs]

J: [stunned look] “Uh... wow.”

B: “It’s the truth. That’s what I think of you-- well, John in the ring.”

J: “Well what about... John in training?”

B: “Him? Oh jeez [counts on fingers] loud, ornery, obsessive... sometimes, I don’t even bother you when it gets close. He’s a jerk.”

J: “Ornery?”

B: “When he has to make weight, John doesn’t like it when I eat or --god forbid-- cook around him. I have to air out the house so he won’t get upset at not eating delicious food. He made me eat out on the porch a couple of times. He’s an asshole when he’s hungry. Imagine that for two weeks. The little things set him off. It drives me nuts. And it makes me want to wring his neck.”

J: “Yeah... I can’t lie on that.”

B: “The only good that comes out of it is that this [gestures over chest] looks great. [John looks exasperated] Oh, don’t give me that look. You said the same thing about my legs and ass when I ran track.”

J: “You’re rarely this... forthcoming with your thoughts.”

B: “Oh, sweetie, you should hear me when I’m at work. I brag about you all the time. Are you blushing?

J: “N-no?”

On Traveling:

J: “When I was younger, travelling was exciting. New places, new people, new cultures... Now? [sighs] It can be rough. Especially if it’s a overseas trip. I usually fly out the week before so I can get over the jet lag.”

B: “It’s rough when I can’t go.”

J: “It sucks, but it’s a sacrifice -- totally because Brian’s a nurse and honestly... it would be selfish of me take him out of a place where he’s needed, y’know?”

B: “He’s a little more nervous --just a teeny bit-- when he has to go by himself. I’m not there to calm him down. When I drop him off at the airport, it’s like... watching a warrior going to battle. Of course, I know he’s coming back, but it doesn’t make it less... dramatic?

J: “It is when we kiss.”

B: “Really?”

J: “I mean... I think about it the whole trip there. It’s a nice thought...”

B: “Ah. We got fussed at by security a couple of times because they’re not too keen on ~romance~. We’re not making out or anything like that.”

J: “That old guy?”

B: “Ugh, him. It’s always him too. I make it a point to piss him off when John comes back and I leap into his arms and give him the biggest kiss I can manage.

J: “Anyway, when we do travel together, we always fly if it’s far enough. Brian brings just about everything.”

B: “No, I don’t; I just like to be prepared.”

J: “Everything. I pack my clothes, my gear, headphones... that’s it. Brian packs like ten outfits knowing full well we’re not gonna be there that long and other things that are just...”

B: “I also like to have options. [nods. John sighs.] One time we flew to Japan-- I checked the weather before we left and it was cool -- John insisted that we didn’t need coats or anything like that, but I packed a few hoodies just in case. [beat] It was snowing when we got there. John only wore some short sleeves and jeans.”

J: “Okay, okay, so I got caught...”

B: “We got caught in the middle of a blizzard”. [gives a very pointed look]

J: [glares] “I like sitting at the window seat. Brian, though? A couple of times he’s had to swap seats to the emergency row because his seat is small.”

B: “Until we started springing for first class seats. It’s expensive, but it’s worth it. It’s one thing being tall, but when you’re wedged between two people... you get a little claustrophobic. In first class? Not a problem. We can sit next to each other and still have room to ourselves to sleep.”

J: “He’s really cute when he sleeps on the plane. Brian hates turbulance, so I hold his hand or, y’know, stroke his hair or something. The flight attendants always ask if he’s alright. They think it’s cute.”

B: “When we get to the hotel... we always get raised eyebrows. I mean, you see him, and then you see me, it’s like the beginning of a bad porno. ‘Twink Gets Stuffed By...’ eh, you get the idea.”

J: “I wouldn’t call it bad. I mean, bad would be out in the woods with Mother Nature and mosquitos joining in.”

B: “Or bears.”

J: “Or bea-- Brian.”

B: [laughs] “There’s this voice that he puts on too. I can’t describe it other than you remove the bass. Kinda like... when you talk in Filipino or something else.”

J: “It’s my friendly voice. When you have a voice like I do, it’s commanding and authoritive or something. So, to not frighten anyone, I speak higher. That’s it.”

B: “It’s too...”

J: “Fake?”

B: “Oh, absolutely. The rooms are always nice, so there’s that. One time we got a Junior suite... Best bed I’ve slept in.”

J: “It better be. I looked up the price of the bed. It was four thousand dollars.”

B: “No wonder rich people are always smiling...”

On ‘The Myth’:

B: “That myth is... It really depends. We’re still trying to find that sweet spot. A month is excessive.”

J: “A month is complete and utter bullshit.”

B: “See, it’s not a big deal for me because my wants are low to begin with; a month is no problem. Extra sex? Bonus. But John? I have never seen him so sexually frustrated on purpose in my life.”

J: “Not even--”

B: “No, because while it’s cute when you beg a little, I usually throw the bone after. This is like on a scale of one to one hundred, it was... a ninety-seven. You were like a cat in heat. A month long tease. And John doesn’t like being teased much. It pisses him off.”

J: “No sex for a month before a fight was the goddamn worst. I don’t know if it affected me because, that was the fastest fight I had. Knockout in 34 seconds in the first round. Caught ‘em with a liver shot with my knee.”

B: “It was a beautiful knee. Right after when the ref calls it, he looks like me like “Get your ass ready.” Soon as we got back to our hotel, I had very little warning... [looks at John] “I told him to hold back until we get home... he didn’t.”

J: “Hoo, yeah, no, I didn’t. I couldn’t wait.”

B: “It was a mess. I’m glad we had all those pillows around. I may have screamed.”

J: “Oh, don’t worry, it was a good scream.”

B: “I couldn’t walk straight for a week.”

J: [a rather pleased smile]

B: “A month is too excessive. For me on the receiving end. A couple of days? I can buy that.”

J: “A couple of days is fine, but... a month? Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? I thought I was going to pop...”

B: “You did. Repeatedly.”

On injuries:

B: “Injuries. [long sigh] They’re terrible. They’re terrible in general, but when it happens right in front of you, you just hope that they’re going to be okay after. When John fights, I just hope he wins with minimal scratches. That goes for his opponent too.”

J: “Injuries... they can and will happen. Do I want them to happen? Absolutely not because there’s nothing worst than training for half a year or whatever, and you get hurt and lose because of it. I’d rather lose by points and hell, a knockout before losing because of that. It sucks. And while I do fight hard, I never have the intention of injuring someone on purpose. Does that makes sense?

B: “Like, legal cheap shots?”

J: “Yeah. Those piss me off because that pretty much says, “I don’t know how to fight so I’ll do this instead.” It’s like in fighting games, you use that one power attack and nothing else.”

B: “What about the... ones that are pure bad luck?”

J: “The Benni fight. God, that was rough. [John leans back] I broke his leg. I know it sounds weird, but I’m glad it was a clean snap, they’re so much easier to put back together.”

B: [nods]

J: “The way he looked, his scream... I cried behind that. Obviously, I asked about him after he, uh, got to the hospital. Visited him even, and I apologized like almost every other word. He told me not get upset over it because -- it happens. It was an unlucky moment.

B: “He took that fight pretty hard and John started to hold back because of it. No one else recognized that, but I did.”

J: “Brian got on my ass about it. I mean, I’ve hit hard. I’ve broken someone else’s nose or, slashed their face with an elbow, knock a tooth out; you can bounce back from that easy, you name it, I probably did it, and I don’t mean to. But breaking someone’s leg? [he shakes his head] That’s life changing.”

B: “I did. Now, you wanna talk about the Shapiro fight or... both sides of it.”

J: “The Shapiro fight is the fight I [looks at Brian] almost died. It’s more of ‘getting into deep shit’. So, during the second round, my defense was absolute shit and he got a knee in when he clinched me. I heard two, maybe three pops. There’s a brief pause and he lets go. I’m ready to strike and... I remember feeling something hot [lifts up shirt, points to three lower ribs] around here and I couldn’t breathe. I was on the floor. Ref’s counting. It’s a dull pain, but nothing I can’t get back up from.

I get up. Ref gives the okay. When I took a breath, it felt like I got stabbed. I didn’t let Shapiro know by my face, but I guarded more. By the time he picked up on it, the round was done. I told my uncle ‘I broke something’. I was starting to feel dizzy. He asked me if I wanted to go on. I should’ve said no, and have him throw in the towel. My pride wouldn’t let me [laughs]. It was stupid of me--

B: “--and probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen him do--”

J: “--that’s fair. Third round starts. I’m barely holding it together. I set up a combo ,ends with a Superman punch. Boom. He goes down. Thank god I knocked him out... I don’t remember the rest, other than telling my uncle, ‘I can’t breathe. I’m gonna pass out. I’m gonna pass out--’I took this huge gasp [exaggerated gasp]... and then next thing I know, I’m at the hospital.”

B: “Before the third round started, I heard John and my heart sank. I knew he was going to go for it. I wanted to scream at him ‘don’t you do it’. He looked like hell. He looked like he was going to pass out the whole time. Honestly, I wished he did. After the fight, John was in trouble. He was hyperventilating, shaking. He passes out. I’m going crazy because he’s not moving. We get to the hospital. John’s broken 3 of his ribs, and one of them punctured his lung.”

J: “I was out for a month and a half. To say that Brian was pissed at me is an understatement. But saying that I almost died? C’mon, man. That’s too much.”

B: “You scared the shit out of me. And given what I see everyday at the hospital, that escalates quick. Hell, you really scared your mom.”

J: “She cursed me out. I’ve never seen her so angry in my life. Brian had to hold her back from trying to beat the shit out of my uncle.”

B: “Your mom is like a tiny wolverine; she wanted to fight everyone. I mean, she was right in feeling that way. Especially... y’know. You’re her only son now. I know that calling it, especially with something that, is a blow to your ego given what you said earlier. It sucks. I get it, but you live, so to speak, another day. Less recovery time.”

J: “Brian took it harder than I did, and I’m the one that fought. It made me reevaluate things when I saw him cry. Full on, soul baring cry. And one thing I promised to myself is to not make Brian cry over me. He starts crying, I start crying too. Like every time he looked at me, he’d just turn away so I wouldn’t see him.”

B: “The Shapiro fight was the stupidest thing he’s done. Other fights? I can live with.”

J: “That’s because you love the scars. Everyone loves them. The bad about mine is that, you can barely see them. My tattoos cover a lot of them up. If you’re good enough with elbows, you can fuck someone up. They are the sharpest point on your body. I got cut a couple of times. [pulls back hair] de la Rosa got me with this. Pissed me off more than anything else because I have a lot of hair and it takes a while to wash it. It kept it from really bleeding enough for a stopppage, so there’s that.”

B: “A lot of his opponents try to go for his face. Obviously.”

J: “I think they’re jealous. I always hear ‘I’m gonna bust up your pretty face’, ‘I’ll make you bleed’, so on, so forth. I never take it as an insult because, hey, they think I’m pretty.” [shrugs]

On defeat:

B: “When John loses... and he does, he takes it personally. Not as much as when we were younger, but he does.”

J: “I’m still working on it.”

B: “I have to let him mourn, but at the same time, I have to pull him out of it. That’s been... sort of my role in this. I give him three days. That’s enough time to cry together, mope together, emotional together... everything. The fourth day? I have to step in. Remind him that he’s come this far. It’s a learning opportunity. Great fighters have losThat’s all .”

J: “When I was younger, before Jake died, I promised I’d win every fight. I thought that, y’know, if I win, he’d get better. That... wasn’t the case. [sniffs] Even after he died, and I’d lose, I’d... beat myself up over it. Like I broke my promise to him. I take them very seriously.”

B: “He does.”

J: “When I’m beat, it’s usually by points. The worst defeat I’ve had was by 8 points.”

B: “The... Santiago fight?”

J: “Yep.”

B: “Ugh, those judges were awful. That whole fight was awful. Not as awful as getting knockout out. [shudders] It’s like you see his soul leave his body.”

J: “Oh my god, Brian.”

B: “I’m-- okay, of course when you’re knocked out, you don’t realize it. That’s the scary part of it -- he doesn’t quite fall at first, because, i-it’s a delay. His body keeps going. You look at his eyes, he’s not there. [he takes a breath] When he does fall, it’s quick. It’s like... a fish gulping for air. It’s for maybe thirty seconds and then he’s back up. Ugh...”

J: “It’s one thing to see it on tv, but when you see it up close, yeah, it’s uh... it’s brutal. I only remember what happens after. When I’m knocked out, it’s... different.”

B: “I can’t stand it... I was gung-ho at first, but, when we became boyfriends and watching him fight... it’s just scary. I’ll go for support, but it’s getting hard for me to watch him. I’m scared that...”

J: [grabs Brian’s hand] “I don’t hold it against it when he doesn’t want to go with me.”

B: “Not any more.”

J: “I can’t trust anyone else to braid my hair like you do...” [kisses hand. Brian smiles]

B: “Among other things.”

On Watching the Fight:

B: “I can watch most of it. When we started dating? Oh, I could barely stand it. I peeked through my fingers. John knows I’m there in the corner. I try not to yell. I can’t guarantee it when Noelle [John’s mother] is with me though. She’s contagious. I know you can’t hear us.”

J: “I do. You have a distinct voice.”

B: [shocked] “Really? Oh, boy, I’ve said... I’ve said some wild things.”

J: “He’s a shit talker. Like, I barely do it, but Brian? Oh my god. I don’t know which fight he said something about...”

B: “I said that the opponent moved as fast as my grandmother. [beat] She’s been dead for twenty years.”

J: [hearty laugh] “Jesus Christ, Brian!”

B: “I know, it’s terrible, but it was the truth! He was moving in slow motion. John took him out in the first round.”

J: “I’m surprised it hasn’t gotten you in trouble.”

B: “The key to great shit talking is knowing when to stop. It’s an art form. But the one thing I always love, no matter what, is his entrance.”

J: “Oh, are you going to gush again?”

B: “Yes, John, yes. I am. You don’t get to be humble again! When he’s announced, [in ‘radio’ voice] ‘Johnathan V! R! Davidson!’ [in normal voice] in so many languages and he walks out. Music’s blarin’, crowd is going apeshit. You can see the fire in his eyes. You can feel just the raw and absolute power he has when he stands there!

J: [noticibly blushing and trying to keep it together]

B: “The way he walks down the path... the swagger and confidence! It’s like he’s won the fight already and it hasn’t started. John... [sighs lovingly] John, you’re extremely sexy. I don’t throw that word around lightly. I should tell you that way more often!”

J: [his face is beet red]

B: “I don’t know what my favorite colors on him. Any color is good on him. I would say... man, a tie between all black and all white. Probably white. You can see blood better. Mm! And the way John moves during his war dance? It’s hypnotizing. [looks at John with a lascivious smile] Did it get hot in here or is it just me...?”

J: “Brian... mahal...”

B: “Oh, fine. How about this: it make me feel super gay for you. Most days I’m regular gay. But then? [scoffs] Holy shit. I feel blessed.”

J: “Didn’t know you had levels...”

B: “Well, now you know!

On Children:

B: “That’s... hmm.”

J: “Hmm... I think if we have kids, we’ll teach them how to fight. For defense and discipline. If they want to be like papa, great. If they don’t, great. I’m -- we’re not gonna push that on them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

B: “How did you and Jacob get into fighting anyway?”

J: “My uncle and aunt babysat us and we’d watch him going through his drills in the gym and given that we were both two wild and impressionable five year olds... my dad was actually the one to be cautious. Ina, on the other hand, she was for it. She practiced Arnis and, y’know, she was one of the top women in the nation, so...”

B: “That’s where he gets his competitiveness from.”

J: “It was more like ‘let’s see where this goes’. I think... that’s a good approach to it, right?”

B: “Yeah. A healthy approach to it.”

J: “But... if they choose to follow my path... that’s going to be hard. We’re gonna be the dads that have like, journeys watching our kids fight.”

B: “I don’t think I could take it. I have a hard enough time watching you fight.”

J: “It drove my dad crazy when me and Jake fought each other. Maybe... maybe we can wait until they’re teenagers. I mean, I’ve been fighting since I was five. That’s fucking crazy when you think about it. Well-- wait, I didn’t start competing until I was seven.”

B: “No, you had it right. You’ve been fighting your whole life.”

J: “It’s... gotten me through some tough times. A good outlet, if nothing else. I think I’d be a totally different person if I hadn’t started fighting. But... yeah, you’re right.”

Closing:

B: “Our relationship is uncommon for a lot of reasons, but I feel like it’s unique. There’s not a lot of... [thoughtful look], what would you say, John?”

J: “Uh, I’d say, it’s not for everyone. It requires a lot of communication and it also requires to really know and understand each other. We get into battle mode when I have my date. It’s the same thing I did for him when he went through med school; I made sure he was ready for tests and exams and whatever I could do to help him succeed. Brian makes sure that... I don’t do stupid shit when I’m training, he pulls me out of what place I go to. We’re so used to it, it’s second nature.”

B: “I’m there for him when he gets anxious, to listen to him. I’m there to get him through an injury he might get.”

J: “Yeah, Brian doesn’t... like to bring his work persona home, but, I dunno. I like him.”

B: “Oh yeah?”

J: “He’s sweet and gentle, doesn’t patronize me... doesn’t call me an asshole when I do something dumb.”

B: [laughs]

J: “Like everything, we just take it one day at a time. It’s a process. There’s ups and downs, plot twists, disappointments... it’s revealed flaws that we have, but it’s also made us stronger together. It’s a journey. It’s given us opportunities that neither of us probably never thought about.”

B: “Like paying off student loans, this house, not eating ramen every other night...”

J: “Sleep.”

B: “Oh, my god, sleep.”

J: “So, like I said. It’s a process, we’re taking it day by day. I don’t have a better person to be with than Brian. Love you.” [leans in and kisses Brian on the cheek before pressing his forehead against his.]

B: [smiles] “Love you too. [beat] Don’t think you’re getting out of doing the dishes tonight.”

J: [laughs] “It was worth a shot...”