#tiny ball of very angry gas that wants to not be a tiny ball would be a very strong contender for Dumb Way To Die award winner

[nyxgoddessofcandles]

Battletech dumb pirate weapon idea: "Jury Rigged Fusion 'Cannon' "

You know that extremely well-controlled fusion reactor in your 'mech?

yeah what if in a drunken fugue, a pirate siphoned a little bit of the *extremely violent fusion reaction* through most of the parts of a PPC that handle stabilizing the projectile, to produce possibly the least safe weapon they could that violates as many treaties and as much common sense as possible

...this would probably be a "built into the 'mech frame" type of deal, impossible to transfer to a different 'mech since it's not...modular at all?

[guqin-and-flute]

[I am once again giving you an unrelated fanfic. Have some Modern married Xiyao.

Potential CW: poor anger coping skills?, very brief mention of suicidal ideation in internal dialogue. It's an errant thought and he doesn't actually mean it]

Jin Guangyao is upset. What's more upsetting is that he doesn't know why he's upset--this lack of information rankles him more than the feeling. He's used to feeling badly. That's how life is. But without a name, there is nowhere to file it away neatly. It is easier to ignore the sharp sting of a newly noticed cut than this fucking awful malaise that has apparently decided to settle over him with no rhyme or reason like he's some stupid idiot in an artsy French film, slowly choking down filtered cigarettes on some rusty balcony against a sunset or something.

That's not what he does. He is efficient. He is useful. And when he is like this, he is not.

And he still doesn't know why. And the fact that he cannot categorize and escape this has the ennui sliding slowly into a slow boil of tooth grinding fury.

Had it been the morning traffic? The fact that the library had emailed to inform him of a delay on his inter-library loan? The fact that his overpriced coffee was just a tiny bit burnt? The fact that Zixuan had taken a sick day today and so had not brought the soup his wife had promised Jin Guangyao for lunch? It shouldn't be, because these are all so horrifyingly trivial.

He has a tension headache beginning to string itself along his temples. He hates that the receptionist has a perky goodbye ready. He hates that the sun is shining so brightly. Then, he hates that the shadows of the clouds when they pass make things look grungy and dull. He hates that there is a flap of leather from his steering wheel that has peeled up in the back from his picking and he can feel it rubbing against his index finger as he stares, white knuckled and unblinking into the brake lights ahead of him as this bubbling pique crescendos as slowly as one of Xichen's beloved classical music pieces.

In fact, one is playing on the radio, softly, just within hearing range. The quiet, shrill edge of violins makes him want to kill something. Maybe himself. There's a bridge coming up in half a mile. He, very sanely, presses the button on the dash that turns it off instead of doing any of those things. The thought of Xichen has a voice of reason suggesting that he might meditate, while trapped here, 10 minutes from home.

Instead, he jabs a button on his fancy, stupid steering wheel with this thumb. An attentive computer noise beeps. The sudden noise in the relative silence of the car makes him dig his nails into the leather. "Text A-Huan," he snaps.

"Okay! What would you like the message to be?"

Jin Guangyao is going to find whoever programmed this faux-friendly robot voice and make them watch him drown their entire family in a toilet. "I. Hate. Everything."

Beep. "Okay! Your message reads; 'I hate everything'. Send?"

"Yes, send," he seethes before it can fully finish.

There is no plan to this. None at all. He just needs something real to sink his metaphorical teeth into. A reasonable anchor to reality to tell him whether or not he's being stupid and terrible for no reason at all.

Even though he already knows that he is.

The response returns in 43 seconds. Jin Guangyao had been counting. The cheery beep sounds just as the very stale green light turns yellow ahead. He presses the gas. "One message from A-Huan."

The light blinks red while he is only 1/4th of the way through the intersection. The lead car of the adjacent left turners beeps and he bares his teeth at her because he isn't fucking invisible, he's in a high profile gold Lexus and she had definitely seen him fucking coming. He stabs the button that makes the car read him the message.

"'Oh no. Bad day? Want to call? Blue heart emoji'," the female robot voice chirps in a butchery of his husbands words and no, no, he does not, because, at this point, it would simply be a minute long sustained scream of rage over literally nothing at all. He should have kept it to himself and found a quiet place to throw rocks at a wall or something until he wasn't such a repellant time bomb.

He does not reply because if he hears that robot voice again, he's going to commit vehicular homicide. And being arrested would not calm him down.

Finally, traffic parts and he pulls into his driveway--he notices how the bush on the side of the house's branches are creeping up to scrape the window of the kitchen and makes a mental note to send a curt text to the landscaper about his pruning habits. Why are they paying him several hundred dollars a month to let a stupid bush get unruly enough to damage the paint on his window trim?

When he slams his door shut, he hears a loud CLACK that announces that he has just closed his seatbelt in the door and lost the last tenuous thread of his temper. Heaving the door back, he plants his other hand up on the black plastic next to the window and smashes it shut again with all of his strength. Repeatedly. CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK--Chunk.

Breath hissing between his teeth, he jerks his suit jacket straight, loosens his tie and stalks to the house. The garage door groans to life behind him. Xichen had been watching.

Perfect.

He's nowhere to be seen when Jin Guangyao slams through the backdoor like a vicious thundercloud, which is good and probably intentional, because it allows him to wrestle off his shoes, jacket, and tie in privacy. This does nothing to release any pressure, because it must be intentional wrestling--controlled and confined so he doesn't pop off a button or rip a seam or scuff the shining black leather. Now he's seething in their immaculate, state of the art kitchen, hating how the cold tile feels against his black dress socks and the fact that it smells like tea. Which is stupid. Because he likes tea. But not right now.

Stop being a piece of shit, he snarls at himself. You've already probably fucked up the car and Xichen doesn't deserve this. He balls up his fists so tightly that the bright pain from his nails sinking into his palms leaks up his arms. Be better.

He has no idea how to do that because he has no idea what is wrong.

Reason says to steer clear of Xichen until he can get a hold of himself and behave like a fucking adult. And in the early days of their relationship, he would have. He had. Whenever he got like this, he would shut down or not have inflicted himself on Xichen at all with a smooth lie, and no amount of prying would get anything useful out of him because he would not be a bother. There had been Talks. Long, extensive Talks about trust and love and wanting to take care of him. He had even believed some of them. That's how they can be married, now, years later--Xichen knowing just how close he is to this at all times. How thin his veneer of manners and pleasantries actually is. (He can't truly know, though, can he. If he knew how much none of it makes sense, there is no possible way someone as kind and intelligent as him would choose to stay.)

Xichen would purse his lips if he said this out loud; somewhere between exasperation and sad fondness. Jin Guangyao doesn't tell him, anymore. Most of the time because he doesn't actually think this.

This is not most of the time.

Yes, reason says that he should suck it up and become a human being before burdening Xichen.

But his husband has long, cool hands and soft eyes and a brilliant mind that can solve any problem just by holding it and maybe he just wants to be small and angry and ugly and pathetic and selfish in the comfort of his own home while someone reminds him that there have been, in fact, good things that have happened in his life and he had been, at one time, happy--believe it or not.

And if nothing else, it compounds his streak of bad decisions.

The smell of tea intensifies when he reaches their room. The curtains are drawn. It renders the deep, dusty blues of the bed spread and the armchair black and the aged gold accent pieces muted, except for where the warm light pouring from their open bathroom door paints them bright again. Xichen sits on the edge of their bed in the soft, expensive loungewear Jin Guangyao got him for his birthday last year, one ankle on his knee, watching him with eyes just as soft as he had been expecting. A mug of tea is tucked into his hand and a plate with round, lumpy shapes sits by his hip. Beside that lays spread out the absurdly oversized and absurdly soft heather gray shirt that Nie Huaisang had gifted to him as a joke but was, in fact, one of Jin Guangyao's guilty pleasure sleep shirts.

With his perfect voice and his perfect logic and his perfect way of being the only good thing on this entire, worthless planet, his husband says, "I think you need to scream into this pillow."

'This pillow' is, in fact, one of theirs, dark blue with a thread count that was higher than any savings he ever had in college, perched on a bundle of blankets that is the perfect size to throw himself upon like a sulking romance heroine. He hates it. Hates that this is known, that this might help.

So he fucking does it. He deliberately stalks around the bed, climbs up, smashes his face into the pillow and screams as loudly as he can. With every single ounce of rage in his body, curling him up like the shriveling of a raisin in fast forward, like the curling of a scorpion tail, like throwing up, wringing every last scant molecule of oxygen out of his lungs.

When the sound peters out and he has to drag in another breath, he curls tighter, the claws of his hands reaching over the top of the pillow to fist in his hair. It presses the plush of it firmer over his face and bites it until his teeth ring with dull pain, and his jaw aches and his head throbs and his eyes sting. His scalp burns from the pull on his hair and his throat is raw and tight.

Tearing himself away, finally, he gasps in a gulp of cooler air. Xichen has turned so he is now cross-legged at the foot of the bed, watching him with a mix of calm and understanding sympathy. "Lay down?"

There is a ragged, hollow hole in him that still has scraps of rage clinging to it like disgusting lichen--but the visceral, all consuming hate seems to have been absorbed by his pillow. So he lets himself roll sideways, eyes closing. Xichen gets off the bed--Jin Guangyao assumes, wearily, that he's putting down the tea mug and hopes that he uses a coaster--and then returns by knee walking up the bed to his side. Then, those cool hands he had been hoping for pick open the tiny hard buttons of his shirt. Each pop releases a a tension across his skin and he feels that he can breathe easier with every one.

Jin Guangyao can hear him breathing, slow and measured, through his nose and thinks that it's probably the most comforting sound that he's ever heard in his entire life--now that he's willing to be comforted. Able to be. The reminder of Xichen's continued existence is the only sound he will ever need to be calm again.

The button up is abandoned in favor of undoing his belt--breath, more of it, infiltrating him deeper and deeper--popping the button on his slacks, tugging them down his legs in a warm slide. The quiet clink of it being tossed somewhere. A closing quiet as Xichen leans in and presses his smooth lips to his forehead. Then the corner of his eyebrow. Then the bridge of his nose. Different points and planes of his face like he is unlocking a combination that will open him up and allow him to purge the rest of the awfulness that lingers.

What it mostly is is exhaustion, now. "A-Huan," he groans--whines. Ugh.

Before disgust at himself can settle in, his husband takes this as the invitation for what it is and kisses his mouth, gentle and slow. Jin Guangyao moves his mouth back, halfheartedly, mostly parting his lips to allow him access to do whatever. But all he does is kiss him chastely. Lovingly. He tastes like green tea. Then, Xichen murmurs against his lips, "Would you like a bath?"

He vents a negating grunt, lolling his head back and forth. Baths are so much work. Even when Xichen offered to wash his hair or read to him or even join him, you still had to keep it hot, you had to endure cold when you left, get yourself dry. Too much change, too much sensation and movement.

He should be shaking himself awake. He should be apologizing for his terrible, pointless mood. He should be trying to kiss him back, love him back, pay him back. Thank him.

Xichen merely lifts his hands and presses the heels of his palms into the hinges at Jin Guangyao's jaw, inexorably grinding the tension out of them. Jin Guangyao allows himself to melt. When those cool fingertips slide into his hair, he lets them tug him upright, so Xichen can slide off his button up and slip him out of his undershirt. He shivers against the chill of the bedroom air, but he doesn't feel a surge of utter hatred for the sensations so, well, that's something. In no time, Xichen has coaxed him into the oversized shirt, removed his socks and bundled him up against the padded headboard, tucked into Xichen's side.

Jin Guangyao allows this. He allows himself to allow the blanket to be tugged up over his bare legs, Xichen to tuck the warm mug of steaming mint tea into his hands, and wind his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath before sighing it all out. Xichen's fingers rub soothing circles across his sore scalp.

"Open?"

He cracks one eye to see a cookie hovering at mouth level. It's too dim in the room to properly tell what kind it is, but because Xichen has been perfect in literally every other way, he simply obeys and bites down. Browned butter and sea salt and semi-sweet chocolate ooze across his tongue and the instant spike of sugar satisfaction warms his chest. Jin Guangyao chews with utter contentment, swallows, and opens his mouth again.

"Good?" Xichen's amused voice vibrates warmly through his chest as he indulgently feeds him another bite.

"Mm. Very. Did you make them?"

"I did, earlier today. I just got lucky with the timing." His nails scrape oh so gently across his scalp. "How are you doing?"

Instead of answering, Jin Guangyao blinks up at him and his sweet, kind, ridiculously gorgeous face that is graced by a light smile and a gold edge light from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Being terrible."

"You're never terrible."

"I was today. I think I fucked up the car."

Xichen chuckles, smile crimping to a knowing press. "I saw. It won't be a big deal. We'll deal with it later."

"...Thank you."

"Of course, A-Yao. Do you still hate everything?"

"Mm-nn." He snuggles down deeper against his ribs, looping an arm around Xichen's warm waist. He has the best husband in his arms, his dark-sweet scent is in his nose, chocolate on his tongue, and 1000 count sheets against his skin.

What is there to hate?

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Let’s Hang Out - Silver

[Woooo Whumptober! I... uh I don’t have many but I have this one!! We’ll see, I guess.]

CW: noncon drugging, restraints, tiny whumpee, non-human whumpee, captivity/cage, escape attempt, non-con touch, wing whump

[Masterlist]

Silver woke with a start. Corwin was looming above his cage, smiling stupidly.

“What is your problem? Go away,” Silver yelled, closing his eyes and settling his head back on his arms. It was getting better, but he was supposed to be asleep during the day. But no, stupid giant Corwin had to come and wake him up and make him go to the awful game booth. No one had won last night, but a kid had gotten close and hit Silver in the stomach with the ring. His ribs still hurt, and he didn’t wanna get up.

“Come on little bug, let’s go.” Silver rolled his eyes and hissed back like a cat.

Corwin just laughed and opened the wire door. Silver bared his teeth, but it wasn’t even a threat after the man had started wearing leather gloves. That bothered Silver. It bothered him because they weren’t even work gloves, just soft leather riding gloves. He sulked, but allowed Corwin to pick him up.

Easier to tell himself that he allowed it rather than Corwin did it to him.

But today, Corwin didn’t leave the room. No, he turned and started for the work bench.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Silver asked, voice rising a little with anxiety. He scrambled uselessly at the gloved hand that held him, eyes widening. He looked up to see Corwin smirking.

“I like you. I think I’ll keep you around a little longer, up with me at the booth. Good little demonstration sprite to get people interested. So,” he explained as he opened a drawer and pulled out a spool of wire, “You’re going to be still while I work on this.”

Silver made a face of disgust, partially at the man’s words but also at the implication that he would be still for any amount of time ever. He bit and chewed on the leather, but it held firm. The man shook the hand that grasped the nitebright, dazing and confusing him. As Silver tried to get his bearings, the man plopped him down on the wooden tabletop.

“You’re gonna be still, because if you are, I’ll untape your wings.”

That got Silver’s attention. He shook his head to get rid of the last feelings of dizziness and snapped his attention up. Corwin laughed again, and Silver huffed. Oh, oh he didn’t want to. He wanted to bite the man so many times he would be nothing more than an itching, swelling ball of a human, but he needed his wings. He needed them bad. If he had them, he might be able to slip away.

It wasn’t a situation he wanted to be in, but he was already there.

“Fine,” he said as he crossed his arms. Corwin laughed, and it was the worst sound in the world. He was so tired of hearing it.

“Oh, you’re cute.”

Silver’s blood was boiling. He jumped up, temper raging.

“Shut up! Just shut up! What, you think I want to hear all of this? No! I don’t! I’m sick and tired of it, so just shut your stupid giant mouth and let me go!” Corwin just smiled down at him, and Silver shrieked wordlessly in fury. In a split-second decision, he ignored the impulse to fight and darted off to the left.

The work table was tall, but there was a bookshelf next to it. From there, he might be able to grab something to get him to the floor, then he could just hide under something or squeeze into a space too small for the human.

He didn’t even get to the end of the table before he was pinned to the wooden surface by a hand. He struggled and screamed, but it was too strong.

“What did I just say about staying still? Fine, let’s do this the easy way.”

Corwin grabbed him roughly, and Silver remembered once again that his ribs were still very much sore. He wheezed in the tight grip, dragging nails that barely scratched the leather’s surface.

He was dumped into another jar, relieved beyond words that it was empty. He was relieved, but still incredibly angry and frustrated. Before he could try and escape, something covered the opening. Silver clawed at the sides, knowing there was no point. He couldn’t claw through glass. He couldn’t bite it or break it or even scratch it. He screamed in rage, frustrated beyond words.

He pounded a tiny fist against the glass and noticed something. The glass was fogging. He looked around, confused, to see that there were gray tiny droplets forming on all sides. The air was different, too; it smelled sweeter.

The lid seemed to be the normal one with the little air holes, so he wiped a circle clear of condensation and looked to try and see. He couldn’t quite tell through the warping of the glass, but he could see some sort of tall canister and a hose that connected it to the jar.

A gas canister.

“What, what are you doing?! What is that!?” He screamed, breath coming faster and faster. No, idiot, don’t breathe faster, that’ll only make it worse. He tried to calm down, but the scent of peaches was all around him and he could feel it in his lungs. It wasn’t air. It was heavier than that. It made his body feel heavy, made his eyelids droop down and his knees begin to buckle.

Silver tried to find grip on the smooth glass once again, but when he fell to his knees there was no resistance against the surface. Even through his panic, his breathing was getting slower and his vision began to blur.

“No no nonononono,” he muttered, before he wasn’t able to keep his eyes open at all.

~

Silver woke up disoriented. He was laying on his stomach, nose pressed into the hardwood of the workbench. He groaned and sat up. He didn’t hurt, but he still felt off. He moved onto his hands and knees and heard a strange sound behind him.

He looked down and his stomach rolled.

Wire was coiled around his ankle; a little loose, but not even close to loose enough to slip off. It was soldered together to form a cuff, a length of delicate ball chain hanging down. The skin around it still felt warm and uncomfortable, but he didn’t think that he had been burned.

Corwin’s shadow loomed, and Silver balked.

“There you go, now you won’t be getting away. Now I- “

“What the hell did you do? You, you bastard! How is this ever supposed to come off!? This is stuck on me forever you absolute rat bastard!” Silver interrupted, lighting up as he worked himself into a rage. He stood and took a step towards the human, wings starting to raise to increase his size. He-

Wings??

Silver stopped his tirade abruptly and flexed his wings. They were free! He could open them and stretch them. The flood of relief overwhelmed his anger and he reached back to run his fingers across the thin membranes. As much as he hated to admit it, Corwin had done a good job wrapping them. Even with all the damage Silver had taken, his wings were in perfection condition.

Corwin laughed at how quickly he became distracted.

“Like I was saying, I untapped your wings. I would suggest not trying to fly right away. They’ll be a little weak, but I can help you strengthen them again.”

Silver’s head snapped up, face contorted with disdain and offence.

“Like hell you will! What, you think that I can’t take care of my own wings? Listen here bastard-“ His wings buzzed behind him with his emotions, and his breath caught. It was like his back had been stabbed, sharp pain coming directly through his chest. He gasped and tried to breathe through it. His eyes squeezed shut and he grit his teeth. Ow ow ow ow.

“See? You’ll sprain them that way. Just calm down and stretch them out slowly.”

The little sprite glared as Corwin reached down and picked him up. The chain was quite long, attached with a small lock on Corwin’s belt. He placed Silver on his shoulder, looking over at him with fondness.

It was enough to make Silver’s stomach roll again.

He scrambled and bit Corwin’s neck, trying to get as much venom in as he could. Corwin cursed and slapped at him, but Silver was able to get another bite in before Corwin grabbed the chain hanging off him and pulled.

Silver flew back and off Corwin’s shoulder, dangling upside down by one ankle. He shrieked and yelled and fought, but all that did was make him swing lightly, wings fluttering painfully behind him.

Wings free, but useless.

~

@thehopelessopus @just-a-racoon-in-a-party-hat @insanitywishes @susiequaz12 @pine-lark

[Pls let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!]

[thiscrazyfan]

What the Fairy Knows

Tinkerbell was maybe a small creäture, but it didn't mean she had a small brain at all. In fact, Tinkerbell might have dared to call herself a fairy with a very big brain.

She knew that when the pirates are around there are talks about revenge. She also knew that none of them would dare to act directly against any of the lost boys, no matter how many limbs had they lost. No one was stupid enough to act impulsively. When two pirates swear on the deck that one day they'll cut all of those "bloody kids" away she stayed silent. It's just words.

She also was a wise enough fairy to know that when the fairies are all leaving Neverland, it's not just because the winter is coming. "It's getting cold in here," says every fairy that leaves. "I've decided to find somewhere warm." She knows that to talk about the fairies that are now gone was like a death sentence. And that not all of them successfully found their warm place.

Tinkerbell also knows that if you value your life, you should never come across the lost boys while they go haunting. When they hold their bows and daggers they only think about killing. They don't mind if you are a bear, fairy, a deer or indian. When they in the mood, all that they want is to kill.

Yes, Tinkerbell was pretty smart fairy. Which is why she gets along with Pan. She know that she should never tells Pan that he is wrong, that she should let him have what he demand from her without argue, never draw his attention, to never trust his smile, and if she should lie to the other fairies so she could get for him pixie dust, she should. Tinkerbell knows that he might look like a boy, but he is a bloody demon.

But Wendy, apparently, was a big girl with a really tiny brain. She always says things that angers Pan. She keeps telling Pan that she wants to go home, despite the fact that Pan always hates talking about home. She likes to cry, and make the lost boys sad. She might think that it will make Pan tired or angry at her. Maybe she thinks that if she'll do all the wrong things, Pan will send her home.

Tinkerbell knows better than that. As angry as he gets at her, Pan likes having a girl in the island. He likes that the lost boys have some sort of "mother". He love the stories she tells them every night. He likes the smell of her hair and he likes the little kiss in the right corner of her mouth. As much as she gets on his nerves, the more she is fascinating him. Wendy is a wrecking ball of emotions, a gas for Pan's flame. And he loves it.

Tinkerbell knows better than Wendy. Pan would never let her go.

[m6p2s5gziax8]

Deconstructing Season 3 Jim Hopper

Note1 - I wrote this before the 2020.02.14 "Stranger Things 4 | From Russia with love" teaser. I'm glad they didn't try to drag out the "is Hopper really dead" question - he's 100% back! Note2 - Ok, now that so many of us are inside and ST4 is delayed, I'm going to finally post this and hope some folks find it interesting. Note3 - 6+ months later, I'm finally posting this for real, enjoy! :)

Please Read * !!! MASSIVE S3 SPOILERS !!! * I am a huge fan of Stranger Things and Jim Hopper. * This is a critical analysis of season 3 Jim Hopper, aka s3-Hop. * I would never want to sour anyone's enjoyment of the show or s3-Hop. * Please skip this essay if you enjoy s3-Hop! * If you viewed season 3 and thought "Hopper sure was different" or "Hopper wasn't enjoyable like in s1 and s2" then please read on!

uber-TL;DR * s3-Hopper was unbelievably and (for me) unenjoyably different from s1/s2 * for s4, my hope is this extreme character shift is acknowledged by Hopper to Mike, Eleven, and Joyce

longer-TL;DR There were many changes in Stranger Things with season 3: the mall, the bright color pallet, the love-quadrangle pitting El/Max vs Mike/Lucas, Dustin splitting off from the boys to join the Scoops Troop, and the campy, Scooby-Doo-esque Russian base plot. I can accept these changes and enjoy many of their elements.

But s3 brought one massive change that was not a new character, location, nemesis, or team combo: I felt Jim Hopper's character change was simply unbelievable and unenjoyable.

Sadly, I may be in a tiny minority that does not speak up or that critical comments about a beloved show get "black holed" by show boosters on social media. Many ST fans were sad and angry that Hopper appears to have died and the letter reading at the end of s3 was very dramatic and moving. So analysis, and especially criticism, of s3-Hop is frequently down-voted or not liked and thus not socialized.

This is an attempt to collect the thoughts of one very unhappy s1/s2-Hopper fan about s3-Hop. I hope readers will enjoy the long detailed analysis (sorry it is so long!) and I look forward to any comments and feedback.

FWIW, I'm a big Stranger Things fan and David Harbour is a great actor (even in s3) and a Good person IRL. I loved s1/s2 Jim Hopper and how he was written in the official book Darkness on the Edge of Town.

Here are some collected and reformatted writings I've done on Hopper and his s3 change. My fave ST character is Eleven so s3-Hop becoming so different and unenjoyable is particularly jarring for me.

s3-Hop was so different from s1/s2-Hop as to make it seem like he is a new character. Not only that, but I did not enjoy this new character who acts: * anxious * whiny * selfish * sarcastic * self-entitled * super-violent

Recall Hopper's pre-s3 history from s1, s2, and the official book Darkness on the Edge of Town: * volunteered for the military at 18 (not drafted) * 3 years combat in Vietnam, awarded Bronze Star * 2 years as a Hawkins policemen, marries, has a daughter * 6 years in New York City as a homicide detective * after his daughter dies, hits the bottle/pills, gets divorced * back in Hawkins as Chief of Police and dating women * goes into the Upside Down and literally brings Will back to life with Joyce * takes Eleven in, she runs away, they each apologize * Hop protects Eleven while she unloads at maximum to fend off the Mind Flayer and close the Gate * El goes to the Snow Ball dance and Mike comes over for 6 months to be with her (and smooch!)

Now look at s3-Hop - a very brief s3 timeline: * he's anxious, has no gravitas or authority - he gets advice from Joyce on El/Mike * the evening of s3e1, s3-Hop writes about "emotions" and how he's upset about change * Then s3-Hop continues writing wise words about life that are all read in s3e8 * AFTER writing why he's upset and these wise words, s3-Hop proceeds to act like a mega-jerk * he is gleeful when Eleven is upset that Mike is not coming over * s3-Hop bizarrely thinks whining to Joyce will make her like him * WORST OF ALL, s3-Hop does not say "daughter", "kid", "Eleven", or "El" from s3e2-s3e7

Hopper went from a mega-over-protective dad in s2 who was able to legally adopt Eleven right before the Snow Ball to a jarringly different character in s3. I can see s3-Hop making bad judgments and behaving badly but just not in this anxious/silly/immature way. Why not have him be brooding and angry? That would be consistent with s1/s2. I fear the writers wanted a whacky/silly/goofy characterization for s3-Hop so that's what we got instead.

I can not stress this point enough: Hopper went from being El's loving, protective parent to forgetting about her once he broke her and Mike apart.

At the start of s3e2, Hopper watching El being upset and storming into her room because she missed Mike, his smiling while eating cereal, and then gleefully singing while going to work is when I was broke and I thought: This is not my Hopper.

s3 Hopper and Eleven then Hopper forgets Eleven - an episodic timeline:

e1 - Hopper is anxious and unnerved by Mike visiting Eleven daily since it reduces s3-Hop's time with El e1 - Hopper lies to Mike about his Grandma being sick and then frightens him into not coming over

e2 - When Eleven is upset the next day about Mike not appearing, Hopper is joyful e2 - Note, the song played while s3-Hop is gleeful at Eleven's separation from Mike is the same one that was used when s2-Hop took El into his cabin and started cleaning it up. What a terrible ruination of a wonderful, charming moment from s2. When I hear "You Don't Mess Around with Jim" now I just think of how unhappy El was and how uncaring s3-Hop was of her feelings after he chased Mike away.

e3 - Hopper drives home drunk and enters the cabin yelling angrily only to burst in on El and Max with no Mike; s3-Hop is very happy e3 - Note, s3-Hop wrote in his letter the night before that he missed spending time with El so his accepting Max with El at the cabin is inconsistent with what he wrote.

e4 - Hop adventures with Joyce (no mention of Eleven)

e5 - Hop, Joyce, and now Alexei road trip on the way to Illinois e5 - Hop does not mention El but at the gas station Joyce is worried and calls Karen: JOY - Oh, hey, Karen, it's Joyce. Yeah, I... I'm just checking on Will. At the movies?

e6 - Alexei describes how the Russians are re-opening the Gate and Joyce quickly gets up: HOP - Where are you going? JOY - To call our children. e6 - Note, Joyce said "our children" so she is also worried for El while an indifferent Hop drinks vodka with Murray e6 - Hop calls the feds and afterwards sits down and lights a cigarette, then: JOY - So, now what? HOP - Now, we, uh... we wait. JOY - How long do we wait? HOP - As long as it takes. JOY - How can you just sit there being calm? HOP - I am not calm! JOY - Our kids are in danger! HOP - You said they were at the festival! JOY - Which is, like, ten minutes from the gate! HOP - What are you doing? Joyce? HOP - What are you doing? JOY - [she calls the feds again pressing them to hurry] e6 - Note, s3-Hop talks here (and in most of s3) with various combinations of sarcasm, exasperation, indifference, and irritation. Just hearing his tone is so unpleasant and jarringly different from s1/s2-Hop.

e7 - in the car ride home, Hopper sarcastically ridicules Joyce about her being concerned about the kids: HOP - Oh! Wait, that's right! We're on our way to rescue our children from the big, bad Fourth of July celebration! JOY - You know what, if you can't handle this, then just turn around and drop me off first. HOP - What are you gonna do? You gonna walk back to Hawkins? JOY - I will do anything if it gets me away from you!

e8 - FINALLY Hopper arrives at the Mall and holds Eleven while she drinks a soda and rests her wounded leg e8 - Inexplicably, Joyce agrees to go on a date with Hop before the climax when he disappears

Why did the Stranger Things writers change Jim Hopper so much and so negatively in s3?

I think the writers want us to enjoy (or experience in my case) a new, goofy, ha-ha, funny version of Hopper who: * can't parent a teenage girl dating a boy, * is chasing Joyce for a date and then a relationship while she is still grieving the loss of Bob, and * despite acting like a jerk "sacrifices" himself in the end.

Then, to cap the season off, we get gut punched emotionally by Eleven reading s3-Hop's letter.

The writers likely thought the viewers would fall into two groups: * s3-Hop likers who enjoy this new s3-Hop would be upset at his "death" and moved to tears by the letter * s3-Hop dislikers who were annoyed by s3-Hop would flip to likers because of his "sacrifice" and feel guilty so they are also moved to tears by the letter

But remember: the timing of s3-Hop writing the letter about emotions with sagely advice. He wrote it the end of s3e1, after getting advice from Joyce at the store and just before lying to and threatening Mike to break him up with El. I don't think the writers thought viewers would catch this since the letter is so dramatically read (awesome performances by David and Millie) way at the end of the season in s3e8 after s3-Hop disappeared.

Why did s3-Hop act so different from s1/s2 and so badly if he can write so openly and wisely in s3e1 about emotions in the letter?

Why does this dramatic character transition occur? * s1/s2-Hop - bad temper, apathetic, lackadaisical with a good heart and over-protective of Eleven * s3-Hop - anxious, whiny, sarcastic, immature, self-entitled, selfish and mocking of Joyce for worrying about the kids including El

The breaker with s3-Hop for me was his complete turn around regarding Eleven. For s3e1 his only interest was stopping Mike from coming over and taking up El's time which he wanted for himself. Once the breakup was achieved he was very happy despite El's obvious upset.

Note, after breaking up El/Mike we never see s3-Hop make Eggo extravaganzas or watch a western with Eleven like he said he yearned for in the letter. Nor does he mention it to Joyce after breaking El and Mike apart. He read El's note on the fridge and proceeded to adventure with Joyce, all the while whiny to her about wanting a relationship.

Joyce on three occasions showed concerned and called someone about "Will", "our children", and "Our kids" and finally she said to Hop "I will do anything if it gets me away from you" because of his mocking her concern. (That was my favorite line in s3! - Joyce is so awesome)

After breaking up Mike and Eleven, from e4 to e7 Hopper did not show concern or caring about his adopted daughter. It was not until s3e8 in the Mall when Hop is seen holding El while she sips a soda and later he talks to her and is loving and supportive.

Is this Jim Hopper from s2 who was an over-protective, super-loving father to Eleven? Does Mike coming over and using most of El's time turn this decorated Vietnam combat veteran, who was a 6 year NYC homicide detective and current Chief of Police into an anxious, shrill father who can't think straight?

Why not have Hopper react to wanting more time with Eleven and wanting to date Joyce like the normal s1/s2-Hop we know and love?

I blame the writers from wanting s3-Hop to have an arc from nervous/unhinged to "sacrificing himself" and then the letter being read.

I think the s3-Hop character change was done so we'd be gut punched when he "died" and then the letter was read. And there's the additional goal of getting Hopper to fit in with the "summer of love" theme of s3 with him breaking up a love pairing with El/Mike and pursuing his own love with Joyce.

But the timing of when Hop wrote the letter just doesn't make any sense because of how he acted later. Additionally, if s3-Hop can not follow the life advice he wrote down, why does he act badly in such a different way then when he acted badly in s1/s2?

Because of this extreme character change I sadly can not watch s3-Hop anymore without being upset. It's just so unbelievable and unenjoyable.

Did Sarah's death or Mike's dating Eleven or PTSD from Vietnan explain or justify Hopper's s3 change?

These items have been mentioned as possible explanations for s3-Hop being so different from s1/s2. I initially tried to use Mike dating El as an excuse for Hopper's changes but after three s3 viewings I gave up because of everything else I've written in this essay. Here are some reasons while these explanations do not work for me.

1) Sarah's death was wrapped up when Hopper and Joyce saved Will in the upside down. Hopper literally brought Will back to life, something he could not do with Sarah. This was in incredibly moving scene and the end of a powerful arc for Hopper. But the point is it was the end of the arc: Sarah's death still impacts Hopper in s2 dealing with Eleven but Sarah dying isn't a driving force for s3-Hop and how he acts. That arc wrapped up and though it guides s2-Hop, he still acts in a consistent manor. In season 3 there's no mention of Sarah making s3-Hop stressed out so that arc is not in play.

2) Mike dating Eleven and their disrespecting Hopper are certainly stresses for s3-Hop but his reaction to breaking them up is out of character. El and Mike giggle and whisper with each other. Then s3-Hop - an adult, parent, and police chief - cruelly lies to Mike that his grandma is sick and then holds him in the car and threatens him after Mike angrily used profanity. Many commenters call Mike a "little sh|t" and side with tough guy s3-Hop and his approach. It would be consistent and believable for s3-Hop to act like this at night and then the next morning to have shown some remorse or some kind of caring to Eleven. s3-Hop could have said "too bad Mike isn't coming, let's have Eggos tonight and watch a Western." But he did not say anything to El. Instead, he smiled and then happily sang in the car on the way to work.

3) PTSD does not explain s3-Hop's behavior since we never see any evidence in the show that he is having flashbacks or any issues related to Vietnam. Also, writers just can't use PTSD as a do-anything-whenever-you-want-with-a-character excuse. Not only is there no Vietnam PTSD evidence in the episodes, there are many quotes from the official book with Hopper that he does not have PTSD.

3a) In s1, s2, and s3 the words "Vietnam" and "veteran" are never spoken. The only indication of Vietnam is a box under under Hop's cabin floor that Eleven sees when she discovers the trap door. Hopper never speaks of dreams or flashbacks and there is no other indication he has PTSD from Vietnam. His divorce, drinking, and pill abuse are all from Sarah dying based on what we see in the episodes.

3b) From the official book Stranger Things: Darkness on the Edge of Town (published May 28 2019):

1984 DECEMBER 26 - 11 days after the Snow Ball Dance with Jim and El in the cabin: The truth was, Hopper realized, that he didn’t want to talk about Vietnam, not because it was a trauma or a personal demon, but because it was ancient history—but more than that, it felt like part of some other person’s life. Although he hadn’t really stopped to consider it properly, he was aware of how he had compartmentalized his past in his own mind. So, yes, Vietnam had been difficult, and he had come back changed—as most people did, of course—but it just wasn’t relevant, not anymore. That wasn’t him, not now. Because he had come to accept that there were really only two parts to his life. Before Sara. After Sara. And nothing else really mattered. Vietnam included. He just wasn’t quite sure how he was going to explain that to El. “Because,” said Hopper with a smile, “Vietnam was a long time ago. I mean, a really long time ago. And I’m not that person now.” He leaned forward on the table, resting on his elbows. “Look, I’m sorry, really. I can understand that you are curious. And I understand you want to know more about me. I’m your—” He paused. El raised an eyebrow, cocked her chin again, waiting for the response. Hopper sighed, happily. “I’m your dad, now. And yes, there is a lot you don’t know about me. Vietnam included. One day I’ll tell you about it, when you’re older.”

1977 JULY 13 - Homicide Detective Hopper in New York City: This was a support group for veterans of the Vietnam War. Hopper knew such groups existed. He knew full well that such groups were needed. That he’d come out of the war unscathed and with his marbles all where they should be was a blessing. Okay, it had changed him, and he wasn’t going to pretend that it hadn’t been difficult at times. But what the war had done to some people... He’d never felt the need to attend a meeting like this himself, but he was glad they were there for those who did feel that need.

How can Jim Hopper's portrayal recover in season 4?

First off, there is no doubt that David Harbour is returning to play Jim Hopper in season 4 (and s5 if there is one). This is David's big, career making role that is getting him award nominations/wins (the most for any adult ST actor), and he just got a huge raise (80k to 350k per episode). And, most importantly, he loves doing the show and the people in it (especially Millie).

Since what's done is done with s3-Hop, what can happen with Hopper in s4 to bring him back into a believable and enjoyable form for huge ST fans who miss s1/s2 Jim Hopper?

I am very much hoping that Hopper will dial back or eliminate his new s3 qualities, like being whiny, selfish, complaining constantly, etc. Please bring back some of his old s1/s2 strength and empathy under a grumpy exterior.

And I hope Hopper does a reset with three people:

1) Mike - Hopper needs to do more to make up to Mike than just saying "Mike, Be careful" like he did in s3e8 at the Mall. Hop should clearly say that he accepts Mike as El's boyfriend and that he knows he'll do everything possible to keep her safe. Which is actually what Mike did for all of s3 while s3-Hop was adventuring with Joyce.

2) Eleven - While the Letter explains why Hop was feeling upset (change, less time with El, etc), it does not justify how s3-Hop acted afterward when he lied and threatened Mike breaking them up. Hop needs to clearly apologize to Eleven for being selfish, immature, and inconsiderate.

3) Joyce - I hope that Hopper admits to Joyce that he acted like a jerk towards her and that he promises to be a better person in general and especially better with her. That's the only way I can make any sense out of Joyce and Hopper being any kind of couple: Hop has to own up to his terrible behavior towards Joyce and promise to be better.

The End! Sort of... :)

Well, you've read or skimmed or skipped all the way to the almost end and I thank you for taking time to look at my thoughts about Jim Hopper's portrayal in season 3. I still love Hop and think David does an incredible acting job with him in each season. I've been 100% sure he's coming back since the Duffers have bluntly said: no body = no death. So while I'm a little scared at how Hopper will be characterized in season 4, I'm also very excited to see it! Word is that season 4 will have more episodes (10, 11, 12?) than normal. Plus, the Duffers just signed a big deal with Netflix so I'm wondering if season 4 will be a semi-finale for the series and give the Duffers and the stars a break to do other stuff and then come back for a movie or a season after more ideas have percolated in the Duffers' creative minds.

So, here's looking forward to season 4 when we can see Jim Hopper evolve along with all the other great Stranger Things characters.

[howdoyousleep3]

☀🌴🕶

Got a good one for you. This one goes out to @sunflowersstan for gifting me with the request for Spring Break Baby Bucky: “I’m in grad school and I’m dreaming of spring break rn, so I can’t help but think about Daddy!Steve taking his sweet Bucky to a nice destination for his spring break (like The Hamptons or Cabo bc I’m assuming your Daddy!Steve is loaded lmao) and him spoiling bucky with lots of good food, good times, and good sex ☺️☺️☺️ “

I had sooooooo much fun with this and wanted to take it in like seventeen separate directions ugh. Also, I listened to “Candy” by Doja Cat as I wrote so hit that shit up for extra feels. 😎 This is the longest response I think I’ve ever written up. Enjoy!

If Steve thought it was hard to keep his eyes off of Bucky in their every-day life he had no idea how he was going to survive spending another 6 days looking at this Bucky. This Bucky was more carefree than Steve had ever seen him. This Bucky already had a dusting of freckles appearing on his shoulders and across the bridge of his nose just after two days that made Steve’s chest ache. This Bucky didn’t seem to have a care in the world and is giggling into his second fruity drink and has the smallest pair of pale-yellow trunks on that it makes Steve want to growl like an animal.

This Bucky leaves Steve breathless. This Bucky is looking up at Steve like he’s the one that put the very sun that’s pinking his skin up in the sky. This Bucky has the same crinkles around his eyes, same flirty half-lidded gaze, and when he stretches out underneath their private cabana Steve wants to eat him alive.

“You’re gettin’ a little pink there, sugar,” Steve husks out from his spot in his chair, placing the book he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to on the table to his right. Bucky’s lips pull up at a corner mischievously, knows that he isn’t pink at all, that he applied sunscreen about 45 minutes ago, that Daddy just wants to rub his big hands all over his lithe little body. He peers over his shoulder at the older man, batting his eyelashes in the exact way he knows punches Steve right in the dick, makes him swallow thickly.

“Daddy, you wanna get the places that I can’t reach?” Bucky asks sweetly and goddamn he would gift Bucky with Spring Break trips halfway across the world and an abundance of free fruity drinks all the time if it meant he could get the younger man to be this brazen all the time. The bottle of suntan lotion is in Steve’s hand before he can even process that he’s moving, crawling down to the large pillowed sunken room Bucky is sprawled out within, squeezing at his sensitive ankle, smacking him on the ass playfully. Bucky bites his lip as he giggles and Steve feels like he’s walked through the gates of heaven.

Bucky’s neck is one of the most sensitive parts of his body, Steve able to nip at the nape or breathe sweet words in the side of it and the brunette is putty in his hands. Naturally, that is the first place he reaches for after squirting some lotion into one hand, Bucky sitting up to sit back between Steve’s thighs, settling against the small wall behind him. As soon as Steve is rubbing and digging his palms into the younger’s neck and shoulders, he knows he’ll be fucking Bucky out here in their little cabana in front of whoever wanted to watch. His big hands smooth and lather Bucky’s skin in protective lotion, massaging and groping and touching more than necessary, but Steve can’t help it, doesn’t want to stop now that he’s started.

Steve’s breaking point are the little breathless noises Bucky is letting out, knowing they are half for show and half because he genuinely gets all whiny and helpless when Daddy rubs him down. Either way, Steve makes sure that sunscreen is rubbed into Bucky’s skin efficiently, takes him maybe 90 seconds, and then the older man is reaching around to press hot soft kisses underneath Bucky’s ear, hands squeezing at his shoulders. Bucky giggles a little breathlessly, tilts his neck back like an easy slut, leans back a little bit into Steve.

“Daddy…” Bucky moans prettily into another giggle and shit Steve can’t help but wind his arms around Bucky’s waist, pull him back fully into his lap, press more open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “You still wearin’ that little plug, honey?” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s ear and the younger man’s cheeks glow red, letting out a loud little whine, curls his fingers around one of Steve’s thick arms. He nods his head, gives Steve a simple, “Uh-huh,” that makes Steve go hot all over. At the mention of the plug Bucky subconsciously rolls his hips a little, grinds down into the pillow they’re sitting on, pushes back into Steve’s crotch.

“No wonder you’re bein’ such a slut today—you got your little hole stuffed and you’re wearin’ these tiny trunks? Got everyone lookin’ at you, don’t you, baby?” Steve feels Bucky’s neck go a little lax, watches as it falls back on Steve’s shoulder a bit. He doesn’t even need to be looking at the younger man to know that his eyes are a little glazed-over, unfocused, all Steve hearing is a whimper of a noise in response. He squeezes Bucky tight, presses a kiss to his temple, whispers, “But you like that don’t you, Buck? Like people lookin’ at you? Like people thinkin’ your pretty?”

“Steve, no I—”

“Ohh, sugar hush now,” Steve purrs, runs a hand down to squeeze and palm at Bucky’s obvious erection, smirking when he gasps out a shout of a noise. “I know you’re a little slut, my little slut, I know you like it. Don’t bother lyin’ to Daddy,” and oh the noise the younger man lets out is delicious, makes Steve groan and chuckle softly.

“Say it, Buck—tell me you’re my little slut.” Steve’s hand moves to curl around the front of Bucky’s throat, tightens his grip a tad, can’t help it when his own words hit him just as hard as they hit Bucky. He whines, high and feminine, and Steve just knows he wants these fingers in his mouth, knows his little tanned and tipsy angel would love to suck on something right about now. Steve thought Bucky would put up more of a fight, usually humiliated at Steve’s words, but when he moans out a gentle but strained, “M’Daddy’s little slut,” no stuttering or anything, Steve’s vision goes hazy for a few seconds.

The kisses he presses to Bucky’s cheek are sloppy, grip on his cock, grip on his throat, and he whispers the very thought that pops into his brain— “Gonna fuck you out here, sugar.” Bucky moans, loud and happy, whispers, “Daddy! No, we can’t, it’s—” but Steve rumbles, nips at his earlobe, rumbles, “Can do whatever I want to you out here, baby,” and all Bucky does is giggle, his mortified façade quickly dissipating. Steve can’t take it anymore, needs to feel those sweet as sin lips against is own, wants to taste the lingering sweetness of all those drinks on Bucky’s lips.

A purr of a noise pushes up and out of Steve’s throat when he uses the hand around Bucky’s throat to tilt his chin up and back, the younger man more than ready for Daddy’s kisses. There’s nothing sweet about them, far too much build-up and tension between the two of them, more tongue than anything, but goddamnit everything about it is perfect. The perfection is leveled up a notch when Bucky begins whimpering and turning in Steve’s arms, unabashed and beautiful and he reaches forward to suck on Daddy’s bottom lip. Steve doesn’t want to wait, can barely fucking stand it anymore, slips both of his hands down the back of Bucky’s ridiculously small shorts, grabs at his plush ass, squeezes.

“Ngh, Daddy!” Bucky squeals right into Steve’s mouth and it makes him growl, makes him knead at Bucky’s ass more, press against the base of the plug harshly, watches as those stormy eyes widen and roll a little bit. Steve knows his little sweet sun-kissed baby is carefree and basking in the spoilage of the trip, but the sheer confidence is not something he has grown used to, groans heartily and squeezes Bucky all over when he tells Steve, “Wanna suck on Daddy’s cock.”

He says it like a little whore, silky and sweet on Steve’s lips, and within two seconds the older man is pushing Bucky back a little roughly into the floor pillows, pulling his angry erection out of his own trunks, fisting it, and mumbling, “M’spoilin’ you, boy.” Bucky moans heartily in response, is the sweetest fucking thing in the world when he bites his lip as he crawls towards Steve, murmuring, “Thank you, Daddy…”

Steve is the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.

Bucky has the sweetest, yet filthiest mouth there ever was and ever will be. He’s got the pinkest poutiest lips that curl up at the corners mischievously and a shockingly long tongue that he knows how to use. At this point in their relationship he knows exactly how to work Steve over, knows the he loves when Bucky slurps and runs his tongue and lips over the head sloppily, know he loves to see Bucky kissing softly up the shaft as he holds his length close to his face. Bucky knows that Steve loves to have his balls slurped and lapped at, cock fisted at the same time, makes his toes curl.

“Goddamn, look at you livin’ your best life out here, baby. Suckin’ Daddy’s cock on the beach out here in the sun and sand, sippin’ on your fruity drinks, playin’ in the water. You havin’ a good time? You feelin’ good, sugar?”

Bucky has Steve’s entire cock in his mouth, deep in his throat, and he pulls off with one slow suck to mumble, “Havin’ the best time, Daddy,” right on the tip of his dick and Steve’s gut twists. He feels a little flustered, can’t decide what he wants, could never dream of telling Bucky to stop sucking him off, but he wants in that tight ass, wants to hear Bucky let out strangled noises of pleasure loud enough for others to hear.

He lets Bucky lay between his spread thighs a little longer, lets him moan and smirk and giggle around Daddy’s cock for a few more minutes, until Steve feel like he’s about to damn near burst, and runs a hand through unkempt wavy hair. He strokes at Bucky’s skull as he takes him deep, gags a little bit, bright eyes tearing up at him, and Steve groans, doesn’t even bother to keep quiet with his praise.

“Love this fuckin’ mouth, Buck, so good for Daddy, baby,” he coos before pushing at Bucky’s shoulders, pressing him backwards and off Steve’s cock. Steve has to grip the base of himself tight when Bucky actually makes a pained noise, pouts, over not being able to have any more of Daddy’s cock in his mouth. “M’still spoilin’ you, Buck, spoilin’ you all goddamn week. How do you want Daddy? Huh? Show me.” Bucky doesn’t even sit back to think or wait more than three seconds before he’s leaning back into a stack of wide pillows and pulling his shorts down and off his lithe thighs.

Steve’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Bucky has no idea that Steve spoiling Bucky spoils the older man in return. It’s a win-win situation.

Even though Bucky is brimming with flirtatious and confident behavior he is still that shy little thing and always will be, wanting so badly to spread his legs, but glances back at the open and fluttering curtains of their small cabana. Steve smirks, stands up deadass naked to the world and walks over the pull them closed. They’re sheer and will do very little to conceal them but that’s beside the point; whatever makes Bucky feel more comfortable.

When Steve turns his attention back around to Bucky, he can’t help but chuckle gluttonously at the sight of him spread out like a little sugar baby with his ass in the air, his face in the pillows, stretched out like a cat in the sun. “Ohh, sugar look at that. You feelin’ some type’a way? Wantin’ Daddy to fuck you on all fours?” Bucky turns his head to the side, arms under his chest, fingers close enough to his mouth to suck one between his lips as he nods his head slow like syrup. The plug between the younger man’s ass cheeks shines bright, a small blue jewel at the base gleaming in the sunlight, Bucky’s cock and balls, hard and pulled tight, dangling beautifully between his legs.

Steve goes to the floor, kneels behind the younger man, runs his big hands up the back of Bucky’s thighs, reaches for the plug. He likes to watch plugs leave Bucky’s body slowly, loves to watch them tug at his rim, stretch him at the widest point, loves the little sighs Bucky lets out at the feeing. When Steve pulls it free from his cunt he lets out a sigh of a groan, tosses it to the side, too preoccupied with the sight of Bucky’s little hole winking at him, silently begging to be filled, to be fucked.

Seeing it makes Steve hot all over, makes him bring a hand up to crack against his ass cheek, brings three fingers down brutally directly over his cunt, Bucky choking on a shriek of a noise before Steve is dripping spit down onto his hole from above. Bucky’s shocked noise morphs into a low moan at the feel of Steve’s saliva dripping down into his ass, his entire form wiggling softly as Daddy rubs at his cunt some, smearing his saliva. Having fucked this very morning, Bucky was still a little loose, a little wet, a little full.

“Gonna fuck you with just Daddy’s spit, baby. Think this little cunt can take it?” It’s both false and rhetorical; there is more than just Steve’s spit and he knows that no other cunt in the world can take Steve the way Bucky does. The younger man moans some more, Steve able to see how his eyes are already half-lidded and glazed over, which tends to happen when Bucky is fucked in this position. Steve doesn’t fight for a verbal response, spits into his hand a few times, rubs the liquid around the head and lines himself up.

Fucking Bucky always feels like coming home. It’s more than a feeling in his dick—it’s a feeling in his soul. Bucky grunts when Steve works his way in slowly passed the tip, spreading Bucky’s cheeks wide as he does so, coos and makes soft noises as he continues to power through. There isn’t a sweeter sight than watching himself fuck into Bucky. Steve hears a sob of, “Daddy, ohh,” and he has taken it like a champ in one go, Steve grinding his hips into the cushion of Bucky’s ass a few times before leaning down to press soothing kisses into his shoulder, up his neck.

“Babyyy, gotta fuck you, gotta fuck this tight little cunt hard, yeah?” Steve feels Bucky’s walls clench around him, a physical answer before a verbal one. “Please, Daddy yeah, come on,” is all Bucky gasps out and Steve is pulling out, a shallow movement, pushing in, acclimating them both to the feel. Bucky is so tight, especially given the position, and Steve soothingly runs a hand up and down the younger’s side, hip to shoulder, a few times.

“Jesus fuck, Bucky y’feel so fuckin’ good, ohh.” The grip Steve goes to give the back of Bucky’s neck feels natural, makes Bucky moan a little high and tight in the back of his throat. Acclimation time is over, Steve can’t stand it, pulls back all the way to give a more pointed and full thrust, demanding and gutting. “Yes, Daddy yes, oh fuck me, fuck me,” Bucky moans, body bouncing and voice pitching with each brutal thrust. The arch in Bucky’s back is beautiful and in turn makes Steve’s thrusts deep, allows Daddy to see himself fuck in and out of Bucky’s cunt perfectly. 

Steve can hear the waves of the ocean, can hear the distant sounds of people enjoying their beach day, is sure a few people can hear Bucky’s little grunts and mewls, and Steve knows damn well that it turns him on immensely when it probably shouldn’t. His thrusts are pointed and harsh, slaps of skin resounding even when there are no true walls to their space, and Steve feels a little feral. He loves it. 

On his next thrust he curls his body over Bucky’s, keeps up his devastating pace, which makes him sob in response, choke on his little noises. “Daddy, ohh god feels so good, fuck me so good,” Bucky cries and Steve knows that tone of voice, that breathless frantic pitch-- Bucky is going to come. “Oh, honey you’ve been on edge for so long haven’t you, sugar? You already feel like comin’? So easy...” 

Bucky shouts, whines some, tries to shake his head but it’s hard when Daddy’s fucking him so hard, moving his smaller body up the pillow with each thrust, whining, “Noo, no no, I’m not, not yet, Daddy!” Steve smirks, presses a kiss into the skin beneath his ear, moans deeply so Bucky can know that Daddy is close to, that he’s making him feel so good as well. 

“Honey, it’s okay you can’t help yourself. Been wearin’ that plug all day, oh shit, been floucnin’ around this beach, feelin’ yourself. You come now and I’ll make you come again whenever you want it, baby I swear. Whatever you want.” 

Bucky is a whimpering mess, is throughout the entire time Steve whispers directly into his hear, his thrusts turning erratic. He kisses at the hinge of Bucky’s jaw, nibbles on it, tastes the underlying layer of salt, fucks into him with all that he has. One pointed thrust has Bucky squealing, has him bucking back in Steve, has Steve rumbling in return, gripping the younger down by the hip.

Daddy has very little warning, only getting a nearly hysterical moan of, “Fuck, I’m--Steve!” and Bucky is absolutely falling apart underneath the older man. There is nothing more beautiful than Bucky Barnes coming undone underneath Steve Rogers and there isn’t a damn thing that can change Steve’s mind. He gets to see Bucky’s eyes roll back, gets to feel his little hole milk and pulse around his aching cock, gets to hear those little breathless desperate noises that Bucky lets out just for him. 

“That’s a good boy, baby, god look at that,” is all Steve can bite out before it becomes too much for him, before his teeth dig into the nape of Bucky’s neck, before he feels himself start to shoot off into the younger man, Bucky moaning out a weak, “Ohh, Daddy fill this cunt up, come on,” pressing his ass back hard even as his own orgasm is still tearing through his body, Steve joining him in his pleasure.

It’s a quick fuck, a little dirty, a little public, but Steve’s orgasm is one of the best he has had in a while. Maybe it is seeing Bucky so ethereal and care-free. Maybe it was getting to spoil Bucky rotten, watching him soak up the attention. Maybe it was those little trunks and rubbing lotion all over his sweet body or maybe it’s a combination of everything. Regardless, when Steve slips that plug back into Bucky’s sensitive body, pats on it and pulls his trunks up, he’s ready and looking forward to the next round.

Holy shit so many words so late at night ILY.

[femalechibiblogger]

Tatsumi Character Bio (Merman in My Tub)

Age: 17

Occupation: High School Student; Part-timer at a liquor store

Family: Unnamed Grandfather (deceased), Unnamed Father, Unnamed Mother, Kasumi (younger sister), Hisatora (uncle), Unnamed Cousin

Likes: Octopus, steamed crab, cooking, saving money, entertaining guests, helping friends and neighbors, memories of his grandfather, teaching Wakasa and his friends about human things.

Dislikes: Slime, Wakasa acting spoiled, sleeping in the bathroom, Kasumi trying to seduce him, being in pictures, his grandfather’s things being broken, taking baths, swimming, Wakasa and his friends being in danger.

Voice Actor:  Nobunaga Shimazaki

Description

Tatsumi is the main, human protagonist of the anime and manga: Merman in My Tub. Tatsumi is a high school senior who lived alone until he met a merman named Wakasa. After Wakasa begins to live with Tatsumi in his bathtub, Tatsumi’s life becomes more lively as he befriends Wakasa’s mer-friends. 

Personality

Tatsumi is a kind and selfless person who often puts others before himself. Tatsumi is a responsible boy who acts very grown-up, as he often cooks and does chores at home, and he works part-time at his cousin’s liquor store. Tatsumi is the grown-up compared to Wakasa and the other mermen...despite them being much, much older than him. 

Though Tatsumi rarely shows emotions, there are times when he smiles or gets angry. When angry, he gives people a cold look if they did something that made him angry. When he is happy, he will smile and blush a little...which makes him look quite cute. Whenever Wakasa does something childish, like not eating green vegetables or throwing a tantrum, Tatsumi will act like a parent and scold him for it. 

Tatsumi appears to be quite skilled in many things such as cooking, cleaning, and making mud balls. However, he does not know how to properly treat a cold, or fix broken appliances. 

Tatsumi has a strong dislike for slime...especially Wakasa’s slimy skin. Tatsumi also dislikes baths and swimming, due to a traumatic incident as child: Tatsumi fell in a river and drowned while he was fishing (it was later revealed that Wakasa was the one who almost drowned him by accident). 

Relationships

Wakasa: Wakasa is a merman who Tatsumi found washed up on the riverbank. At first, Tatsumi did not know that Wakasa was a merman until afterwards, and allowed Wakasa to live with him in his bathtub. Wakasa disliked living in the river, and has no intention of leaving Tatsumi’s home. Wakasa is 200 years old (or even older than that), but acts like a child from time to time. Wakasa loves being spoiled by Tatsumi, and often has him cook meat and sweets for him. Wakasa is also quite feminine, as he loves bath products such as bath mix-ins and celebrity shampoo and conditioners. Because he cannot survive long out of water, Wakasa has to stay in the bathtub all day, since he will die if his body dries up. Because of this...Tatsumi’s water, gas and electric bills are often through the roof...much to his dismay. Wakasa tries to do something productive with Tatsumi everyday, and often feels bad for being a freeloader (though he cannot have a job since he is a merman, and he needs to stay in water to stay alive). Wakasa is very protective of Tatsumi to the point that, if Tatsumi is hurt, he will become very angry which will awaken some kind of power that allows him to control water (though he seems to be unaware of this power). It is revealed that, when Tatsumi was a child fishing at the river, Wakasa was caught on his line and almost drowned him. Wakasa got angry at the young Tatsumi and threatend him not to tell Tatsumi about his existence. After this incident, Tatsumi developed a fear of water and slime, and stopped taking baths and swimming. Neither of them remembered this until a year after they began to live with each other...though Wakasa attempted to change the story, but Tatsumi then remembered what had really happened. Tatsumi and Wakasa’s relationship can be described as being like a married couple. Though they are not a couple, they seem to sometimes act like one. 

Takasu: Takasu is an octopus-merman who has been friends with Wakasa since he was a child. Like Wakasa, Takasu can be a bit childish sometimes...but he is a bit more mature than Takasu sometimes. Takasu is very skilled with is tentacles when it comes to fixing appliances and electronics. For example: He quickly fixed Wakasa’s bathtub tv after accidentally breaking it. Tatsumi likes Takasu’s ability to quickly fix things, and is both amazed and annoyed by his artistic talents. When he first met Tatsumi, Takasu gave him a message using his tentacles, which he only gives to people whom he likes. Takasu lives in the river, but he often comes over to visit Tatsumi and Wakasa. Like real-life octopi, he loves small and dark spaces.

Mikuni: Mikuni is a jellyfish-merman and one of Wakasa’s friends. Because he is a jellyfish type, people thought that Mikuni was a ghost due to him being transparent. He is very calm and always smiling, and is shown to be a bit forgetful sometimes. Tatsumi likes Mikuni because he is very polite and friendly, and was worried when Mikuni said that he did not need to eat food. Because Mikuni’s body is 99% water, he will shrink if his body has not been in water for quite a while. Mikuni can eat solid foods, but he is embarrassed about it because the solid food he eats can be seen through his see through body. Mikuni’s body can separate and multiply into tiny Mikuni’s who act childish and mischievous. Because he is a jellyfish type, Mikuni can shock people with electricity...either on accident or on purpose. Tatsumi tends to spoil Mikuni because he is polite. Mikuni lives in the river, but 

Maki: Maki is a sea snail-merman who is also one of Wakasa’s friends. Maki first met Tatsumi after Tatsumi had rescued him from being kicked around by two boys. Because he is small, Maki is often depressed, self deprecating, and negative about his existence as a snail. He does not trust people so easily, probably due to being bullied a lot by creatures bigger and stronger than him. However, after being shown kindness by Tatsumi, he becomes more positive and cheerful...until Tatsumi called him ‘small’, which reverted Maki back to his original self. Maki often stays in dark places like his shell, so his eyesight is really bad and needs glasses in order to see (he actually thought that Tatsumi was Wakasa’s girlfriend before being corrected). Tatsumi feels both sorry for and annoyed with Maki’s negativity...but he still treats him kindly. Maki is shown to be quite shy and does, in fact, love the company of his friends. He loves having his shell scrubbed.

Agari: Agari is a shark-merman and Wakasa’s senpai. When Tatsumi first met Agari, he was scared of him due to him being a shark. But soon afterwards, Tatsumi saw that Agari was actually quite shy and sensitive, and that he also had difficult with communicating with others. Agari does not speak, because his voice, and the inside of his mouth, frighten people...so he communicates through body language (Wakasa often translates for him, but Tatsumi understands him somehow). According to Wakasa...Agari was the inspiration for many shark movies such as ‘Jaws’, ‘Sharknado’, etc. Agari is likely many centuries old, since he is older than Wakasa (who is hundreds of years old himself). Agari only appears on the manga.

Goromaru: Goromaru is a starfish-merman. At first, Goromaru was ignored by Tatsumi and Wakasa...even though he had been around for quite a while. Being a starfish-type, Goromaru can stick to the ceiling without falling, which he uses to change light bulbs in Tatsumi’s house. Goromaru thinks of Tatsumi as ‘cool’ and ‘manly’, and refers to him as ‘big brother’. Goromaru develops a crush on Tatsumi’s little sister, Kasumi...who often rejects his love confessions. Nevertheless, Goromaru never gives up on making Kasumi fall for him. Despite appearing to be the same age as Kasumi, Goromaru is actually far older than he looks...though he is not as old as Wakasa (this could mean that mer-people age a lot slower than humans do). Tatsumi treats him like a little brother, and often gives him his favorite dish: Oysters. Goromau often hangs out in Tatsumi’s bathroom with everyone else. Goromaru only appears in the manga.

Echizen: Echizen is a crab-merman and a long-time friend of Wakasa’s. Echizen appears to be quite protective of Wakasa, as he is often trying to get him to come back and live in the ocean with him. Echizen does not like Tatsumi, because humans did bad things to him and Wakasa many years ago. Echizen is quite sadistic, and believes that mer-people should not interact with humans. Despite this, Tatsumi treats Echizen as a guest and even helps him when he is low on calcium (crabs love calcium). Echizen and Takasu used to be friends when they were children...until they met Wakasa and began to fight over him (Wakasa was unaware that he was the cause of their friendship falling apart). After they were accidentally given a truth serum made by Tatsumi’s uncle, it was revealed that Echizen and Takasu wanted to be friends with each other again...though they tried to deny it. Echizen only appears in the manga.

Makara: Makara is a clownfish-merman/woman who Wakasa treats as a younger sibling. Makara is very shy around strangers, and does not like to interact with people they do not know. Being a clownfish-type, Makara can change their gender from male to female: Male around women and female around men. At first, Makara did not like Tatsumi when they first met. But after getting to know each other, Makara fell in love with Tatsumi and wanted to stay a woman for him. Tatsumi became embarrassed, and pointed out to Makara that he was underaged compared to Makara (who is already an adult). Makara wants to show Tatsumi their home...but is unaware that Tatsumi would drown. Makara becomes friends with Kasumi. Makara only appears in the manga.

Sosuke: Sosuke is Tatsumi’s best human friend and classmate. Sosuke is a kind and energetic person who often worries about Tatsumi. Sosuke is unaware that Tatsumi has a merman living with him, and instead thinks that Tatsumi has a foreign woman living with him (he found a long-blonde hair on Tatsumi’s clothes, which made him think that he was living with a foreign woman). Tatsumi appears to be Sosuke’s only friend, as he is not seen hanging out with anyone else. Sosuke comes from a rich family and has two older sisters, both who appear to dote a lot on him. He only appears in the manga.

Parents: Tatsumi appears to have a good relationship with his parents. They often worry about Tatsumi, because he is living alone by himself and has high bills for water and gas. Tatsumi does not wish to make them worried, and sometimes visits them during the holidays. They do not know about Wakasa or any of the other mermen. Tatsumi’s parents are often mentioned and heard in the manga, and only make cameo appearances from time to time.

Kasumi: Kasumi is Tatsumi’s sister who is 10 years younger than him. Kasumi is a little girl who loves her big brother more than anything else in the world, and even wants to marry him when she’s older. Kasumi becomes jealous if another girl is interested in her big brother, though she does not mind if her brother only thinks of girls as friends. Though Tatsumi loves Kasumi as a little sister, he does feel a bit overwhelmed by her from time to time. He wouldn’t mind of Kasumi had a crush on another boy, as he doesn’t want her to have a crush on her own brother. Kasumi found out about Wakasa when she came over to visit Tatsumi. At first, she thought that Wakasa was woman, and was even more surprised when she saw that he was a merman. Kasumi gets along with Wakasa, as they both have similar interests such as bath products and soap operas. There have been times when Kasumi thinks that Wakasa may be in love with Tatsumi, but she doesn’t see him as much of a threat due to his inexperience with love. Kasumi also knows about some of the other mermen, but hasn’t met all of them yet.

Hisatora: Hisatora is Tatsumi’s uncle and the younger brother of Tatsumi’s father. Hisatora is a science teacher who creates various bath products, hoping to attract women with them. Hisatora has Tatsumi test out the products, though Tatsumi really doesn’t want to. Unfortunately, Hisatora blackmails him by threatening to reveal embarrassing things about his young nephew from when he was in middle school. Hisatora’s bath products always backfire in various ways: Turning into quick dry concrete, making a person act like an infant, creating extremely thick fog, and even creating super sticky slime. One of his formulas turned out to be a truth serum, which made Takasu and Echizen reveal that they wanted to be friends with each other again. Hisatora often gets drunk and beaten up by women he tries to hit on, and is often called a ‘perverted old man’ by Tatsumi. Despite this, however...Hisatora cares a lot about Tatsumi, as he was worried about him living on his own. Hisatora thinks that Wakasa is a woman, and even accidentally saw that he was a merman. Fortunately, he was drunk and had no memory of Wakasa being a merman the next day. 

Cousin: Tatsumi has a male cousin who runs a liquor store, which is where Tatsumi works part-time. Not much is known about him, though he and Tatsumi appear to be close, since he allowed Tatsumi to work at his store. He appears to be a bit of a jokester and is pretty laid back. His face is never really seen, and his real name is never mentioned. He is from Tatsumi’s father’s side of the family, meaning that Tatsumi has an aunt or uncle who is his father and Uncle Hisatora’s sibling. 

Grandfather: Tatsumi had a close relationship with his late grandfather, who lived in the house that Tatsumi currently lives in. As a child, Tatsumi would go fishing and climb mountains with him every week. His grandfather had a lot of interests and hobbies, which is why Tatsumi’s house is filled with various, unused items. Tatsumi would often go to the summer festival with his grandfather, but stopped going after his grandfather died. Tatsumi’s grandfather died before Kasumi was born, meaning that he died when Tatsumi was 10 years old. He was the father of Tatsumi’s father and Uncle Hisatora. 

Gallery

Gifs

[mountainleafuniversity]

Linneaus: Undertow Pt 1

Artwork by: @warrior-kitty

Special thanks to: @gemellath

This story is rated PG-13 for content. You have been warned.

It was a beautiful day for the citizens of Charluftton as the Wild Waves Festival was in full swing. The plaza was full of vendors selling t-shirts and frozen ice, the bar was full of all kinds of live music, including bands like Boil, The Lost Tapes and Art House, and even the beach was full of fun events such as volley ball, sailing, and even a beach 5k obstacle course. Boaters were out fishing and tubing and just all around having a good time. However, for the shapeshifting vixen, she was lying home in bed wearing her work cap, a buttoned jacket and khaki work pants. On her nametag was the name “Kit Rouge”. She was a shy fox who was diagnosed with a disorder that caused her to have trouble controlling her shapeshifting powers, and today, due to the events that occurred at work, was no exception.

“All I did was get grossed out…” she muttered. “Yet of course I turned into a fox bug like I always do when I’m disgusted. And of course, everyone thinks I’m too old for this to happen. I can’t control it…”

Kit had a busy day at work with lots of fishermen and families out buying things from pool toys to bait and couldn’t even stop the lines from the shoppers just itching to get their stuff and hit the water. She swore if she saw another sailor she would transform into her angry form and chuck them off their boat.

Her cellphone rang, and Kit answered.

“Hey Vixie!” Coin started, wearing sunglasses. “Work was rough today wasn’t it?!”

“Oh! Hello Coin! It was rough! Like the time that giraffe all jacked up on cocaine went up to you and-“

“Didn’t you remember our plans for today?!” he interrupted.

“What plans?” the khaki-clad kitsune asked.

“To go tubing with us!” Rio said.

“But I thought we were going to go to the beach!” Kit cried. “I want to lie down, get a sun tan and eat all the cannolis I can think off!”

“The beach is tomorrow and the next day!” Coin replied.

“Just get changed, pack some sandwiches and don’t forget the tube! See you in a half an hour.”

With that they hung up.

Kit thought about it for a second and decided to just go embark with her friends on the boat.

The young vixen put on a yellow one-piece swimsuit and covered it with a Zelda t-shirt and her khaki shorts from her work uniform. She then put on her special waterproof contacts, so she doesn’t turn her friends into her clones again. Finally, she made her friends sandwiches to eat on the boat while they hung out. Kit opened the garage to find Coin’s boat tube and sighed, knowing that none of their days out ever go well.

When she arrived, she saw her jackelope friend in his salmon trunks, purple t-shirt and sunglasses, with Rio harvest mouse perched on top of his antlers. She was in a little sailor’s outfit with a cap.

“First mate Rio! Ready to embark!” she said with glee.

“Hey Kitty!” Coin blurted. “Just put the tube in the back, were going to go fishing for a little while.”

“I thought you had a fear of fish.” Kit replied.

“My dad wants us to get fish for the Braun’s fish recipe!”

“You hate the taste of fish as well!”

“I’m getting paid if I do this.”

“Fair.”

And with that, they entered the boat.

Kit untied the ropes from the hooks, while Rio and Coin brought the buoys into the boat.

“Hey um Kit…” Rio said. “I think you might want to put your sunhat in the cabinet, so you don’t lose it.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Kit said without concern. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

As Coin and First Mate Rio pushed it to thirty miles an hour, Kit began to scream as her body grew more multicolored fur, whiskers grew, and her body became feline. The scared cat held onto her hat as hard as she could while the boat tore through the river.

“I retract my previous statement!” screamed Kit. “This is way too fast! My hat’s gonna fly away if you’re not careful!”

“Too fast?” replied Coin, seemingly unaffected by the rip-roaring speeds they were currently travelling at.

“No way! Calm down, will you? If you didn’t want your hat to get blown off, you should’ve at least stored it in the compartment.”

Begrudgingly, he and Rio slowed to boat down so that Kit could hand the hat over to Rio.

“Honestly,” she said, “We should’ve insisted on it in the first place.”

As they continued to sail, the trio began to develop an appreciation for the architecture of the waterside houses. Rio would wonder aloud who lives there, or there, or there? Enough time had passed for Kit to have calmed down; one tug of her tail later, and she was back in her fox form.

“Right then,” she said, retrieving her hat at last, “What are we up to first?”

“Sandbar, of course!” replied Rio as the boat sailed towards the spot where the ocean embraced the shore.

The little stretch of sand was surprisingly full of people sunbathing, dipping their toes in the water; anything to make the most of the fresh heat.

“Oh, nice! We can all have a game of keepie-uppie!”

Kit casted her line out towards the water and waited. Soon enough she had something on her line, reeling it in as hard as she could to discover she had caught a gar.

“Nice!” she said, pleased with herself.

“Hey, look guys I caught this cool long-billed thing!”

The crowd looked over, but only saw the fish worth jack squat and laughed.

Kit became slimier and turned grey, with white hair growing until she was now her sad form, the fox slug Granny.

“Dang nabbit!” she muttered to herself before casting the line once again…only to this time catch a sea bass…

“Did you bring the football?” Rio asked.

“Sure did!” Coin said, holding the old pigskin.

“I said the football!” Rio growled.

“This is a football!” Coin responded, perplexed.

Soon an argument erupted between the two of them, until they decided to just toss the ball around. The jackelope through a spiral throw towards Rio, who then responded by nailing her personal perch in the chest. Coin got up, picked the football off of the bar and tossed it again. After a while, he was getting nailed in the face, chest, and even in the groin by the sailor mouse’s throws. He called for a time out to see Granny still trying to catch fish.

“Hey bud.” She said. “Could you give my tail a pull?”

Coin turned her back into Kit.

“Thanks”

“So what’s going on here?” Coin asked.

“I”ve been catching nothing but sea bass and gar…”

Coin looked at her in disbelief.

“Kit there aren’t any sea bass in here…you mean sea trout.”

Kit blushed a little.

“It’s alright, you caught like five of them already!”

So, they waited and caught a decent amount of fish to put in the cooler.

After sunbathing for a bit, the Trio decided it was time to go tubing. They packed up their chairs, their belongings and the fish, which were placed in a water tank on the back of the boat.

“Alright guys!” Rio shouted with excitement. “Time for tubing!”

Coin took off his shirt and glasses, leaving him with only his trunks, while Kit dressed down to her swimsuit. Both of them then put on life jackets and hopped onto the tube.

“Um…” Kit said, somewhat nervous. “I’m not sure I want to do this…”

“Oh we’ll be fine. I’ve gone tubing dozens of times.”

“Get ready you guys!” First Mate Rio shouted as she pushed on the gas. She pulled it forward and the two cryptid creatures were yanked screaming. They narrowly missed other boats and shores, but soon the wild mouse got carried away. At a wedding reception between two mice on a dock, the two burst through and destroyed the dock the mice were on, leaving Coin with a face full of tiny wedding cake, and Kit with the groom in her mouth. Next, the two of them flew over another boat’s wake, which was sunk as soon as the tube landed on it. Finally, they neared an exclusive gated community residence, and ended up going through the yards of the tenants. Statues, trees, and rocks pelted them with pure bruises and scratches. At one point, they broke in through a beaver business man’s house and destroyed his kitchen, his teenage daughter’s bedroom, and his priceless wine cellar.

After breaking out of the last wall, a ramp was seen straight ahead for the duo, and with the ramp, Kit flew off of the tube and belly flopped into the water. Coin, luckily, stayed on, but ended up getting dragged through marsh grasses and oyster beds. He was all chopped up, so when Rio stopped, Coin fell into a million pieces. He healed himself, as always when he got this injured, and pulled into the boat.

“Hang on, where’s Kit?” the crazy driver asked.

From a groan they heard, the two saw her bobbing in the water. Coin spun it back around to collect Kit, who wasn’t very amused about the whole situation once she climbed back on board.

She was trying her best not to snap at Rio, as the jackelope got her a towel to wipe off the water.

Rio than then tried to fire up the engine but called Coin over. After a brief and worried discussion, the rabbit sheepishly confronted his fox friend.

“Umm…Kit….”

“What is it?” she snapped with her eyes already glowing.

“The boat…it’s out of gas…”

Suddenly Kit screamed as she transformed into DemKit, with his voice deepening into a roar. He picked up the cowering and flailing jackelope and chucked him off the boat. Then moved on towards Rio and held her up, shaking her around.

“WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO NOW FIRST MATE RIO?!?!” he roared.

“Calm Down!” Rio said. “Coin can just call the boat tow.”

DemKit dropped Rio and blushed a little embarrassed.

“Sorry Coin!” he yelled out.

“Try to grab the tube.”

Coin swam towards the tube, failing to notice the fin behind him. He climbed onto it, but as he was being pulled in by the fox monster, a shark leapt from behind him and bit down on his swim trunks, ripping them and pulling them into the water. His two friends screamed with DemKit frantically pulling on the rope harder, but it was fruitless as he pulled it in to find the shark had cut it in half. Coin, meanwhile, had a censor bar over his special area and watched as whale watchers and fishermen boated by laughing. The shark returned and pulled the censor off of him, causing DemKit and Rio to blush and look away.

“How can this get any worse?” the mouse said to herself.

“There they are!” an angry woman said, with a crowd of people on a police boat. The officer looked to see a sailor mouse next to a steering wheel, some fox monster, and a naked jackelope behind them.

“Oh crap.” DemKit said to himself, embarrassed.

Later on, Kit, now back as her normal self, and Coin were eating the fish they’d caught in the estuary with their families at Coin’s house.

“I’m glad they found out I was just transformed.” She said. “And they found the shark with Coin’s compressions lodged in its throat at the hospital. He said he needed clothes to deliver to someone.”

“Who?” Gunda asked

“We don’t know yet, but because he pulled my censored bar away he now has to register as a sex offender.”

“As for Rio?” Kit’s father asked.

“Well because she was recklessly driving to the point of bodily harm and property damage, and we didn’t do anything wrong, she has to spend the Festival in jail.” Kit replied.

“It’s a good thing you guys called to get the trout out.” Jonas said. “Proud of you son!”

“Thanks dad! How was the nautical golf tournament?”

“Well, we placed second.” He declared to Margaret. “We have to go to the plaza tomorrow. You are performing tomorrow night correct?”

“Yea, I’m meeting Harry and Roxie at work tomorrow, and D’Arcy is setting up her clothing tent at the beach market.”

“Apparently someone sent a threat to her earlier this afternoon.” Kit’s brother told them. “They’re investigating who sent it.”

“Well, it’s probably nothing we should worry about, but we should tell D’Arcy once we get to the beach.”

Meanwhile the salmon trunks sank into a cave where a sea serpent sat waiting and grabbed it.

“Nice…” she said. “A sample of clothing from one of that jersey devil’s friends.” She smiled with glee. “He could be useful to me… in finally bringing her down…” she laughed as her factory workers continued to work…

[anonil88]

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar. 

 "Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

 "Beep beep ghost busting in my,

 Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing.  Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and  fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road. 

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches  closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day. 

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window. 

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her. 

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach. 

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

 Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers. 

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes. 

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car  until  one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons. 

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes. 

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

[5-seconds-of-asses]

faith >> sherlock shortstory

Title: faith

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Original Female Character, (a tiny bit at the end) Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

Warnings: Character Death, Mention of self harm

Summary:  in which sherlock learns what faith is. or rather who. 

A/N: So this is a weird little AU that I wrote when season 4 first came out. I kinda shipped Sherlock and “Faith” a little. I can’t really tell you why, I just felt like they had a cool connection (I mean we all now know where that came from haha). Anyway, what you need to know before you start reading is this: Sherlock has rented Backer Street on his own and is busy taking cases when Faith suddenly stumbles into his life. She really is Faith, not Eurus, and she has a weirdly good effect on Sherlock. Enjoy!

_____

"I'm Faith Smith," she said.

Sherlock didn't hear her. He was too busy staring at her. Looking at her without looking through her.

There was something about her. Sherlock couldn't quite say what it was (and he was incredibly annoyed by that), but she drew his interest. She seemed so lonely, and yet so at peace with it.

Some time later the detective realized that Faith reminded him of himself. But he needed a while to get there.

***

"I like stars," Faiths blue-green eyes were fixated on the shining dots in the sky.

Sherlock huffed disdainfully and rolled his eyes. "Why are humans always so fascinated by such primitive things? Stars are just balls of gas in the sky"

Faith smiled. Sherlock blinked in confusion - he had expected her to be hurt by his words. Finally, Faith took her eyes from the stars and looked at him. "Those primitive things you talk about have the ability, to give us hope, Sherlock. Confidence. Faith"

The detective with the dark curls blinked in bewilderment. "And how does that work? How can a shining dot in the sky give you the illusion of hope?"

Faith took his hand and forced him to sit beside her on the bench. "Look at them. Don't think"

"I don't think--"

"You aren't supposed to. Just look. Let your eyes do the work, Sherlock. Let the rest of you be relaxed"

With a deep, dramatic sigh, like only Sherlock Holmes could manage, he did as he was told and tried to look at the balls of gas without a second thought.

It was silent.

Some time later, Sherlock felt he had lost track of time. Hours could have passed (though the sun wasn't- dammit, no thinking) when Sherlock started smiling. Maybe the stars weren't so bad. They seemed nice.

Almost peaceful.

Faith smiled as she looked at the detective.

Almost peaceful.

***

Nobody was sure where Faith had come from. Mrs Hudson just shrugged when Sherlock asked and she told him, that Faith was suddenly standing in the door frame one afternoon. Sherlock could find neither reason nor proof for a lie.

Molly seemed to know her (Faith sometimes visited him when he was inspecting bodies - whenever she did, the women exchanged meaningful looks), but no matter how many times he asked, Molly wouldn't tell him how. It drove him mad. But he needed the two of them - Mollys help and friendship and Faiths company, which he was too used to by now - and so he didn't even have the option to be angry at them for not telling him.

For some reason, Lestrade refused to give out any information about Faith. Though, Sherlock doubted he even had any to begin with. It was really frustrating. In the end, Sherlock gave up.

Faith always said that some mysteries better stayed unsolved. Apparently, that included her.

***

"Faith"

"Hmm?"

"Give me the weapon"

A pair of blue-green eyes blinked with little surprise. "I don't think so, Sherlock"

"Don't think. Just give me the gun"

A slim smile appeared on Faiths lips as she recognized her own words. She almost refused to hand out the weapon.

But then Sherlock whispered, "Please", in the softest voice he could manage. She looked into his eyes. It was only a short moment of weakness, but the detective's blue eyes were filled with panic and plea. Her heart skipped  a painfully long beat.

Faith opened her bag, took out a small gun and handed it to Sherlock. He stood up and threw it into the River Thames. The two of them sat on the bench in silence, after that, and looked at the stars. Sherlock took Faith's hand. Faith smiled quietly to herself.

They didn't talk about it again.

***

One day, a man showed up in the laboratory of the hospital while Sherlock was analyzing samples with the microscope. He asked for Faith. Sherlock shot him only a short glance before going back to his analysis.

It wasn't hard to see that he was an ex-boyfriend of some sort. He was tall, in his mid-thirties, had blond hair and blue eyes and a cool, slow voice.

He didn't know who Sherlock was, or that he had any connection to Faith, or he wouldn't have acted as calm as he did. He was an aggressive person - his eyes flickered back and fourth in an unsettled manner, he bit his lower lip nervously and the shadow of an angry frown never left his forehead. His knuckles were wounded, most likely from a confrontation with another person or from punching something out of anger. The surface of the skin was damaged, almost like it had burst, which made Sherlock guess it had been a wall.

"I don't know anyone named Faith," he lied, without even batting as much as an eyelash, not looking up from his microscope while doing so.

"But I was told that she came here often," the man stepped closer.

"Who said you could come in?," finally, Sherlock looked at the man. He huffed and flushed - a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"Your information must be wrong. As long as she doesn't work here, she can't come in here. Does she work here?"

The man shook his head silently.

"Then you can go now," Sherlock had to bite back a spiteful grin as he turned back to his microscope on the table behind him.

His head as red as a tomato, the man left the lab. He didn't come back.

***

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm"

"Did somebody ask for me in the lab?"

"Why?," Sherlock took his eyes from the stars slowly and instead looked at the petite woman beside him.

"It's just... Molly... Molly mentioned something," Faith shrugged and left her sentence to linger in the air, almost like a dark shadow.

"A man showed up. Asked for you. Thought he could just come into the lab. I sent him away, told him that no one can come in if they don't work there, including you, and I also said that I didn't know you," Sherlock paused for a short moment and felt concern rise within him, "or should I not have done that?"

"No. I mean, yes. It was good that you did that. Thanks"

Faith smiled. She took his hand. He looked at the stars.

They didn't talk about it again.

***

One evening, Sherlock took longer for one of his consulting cases with the police than he had thought he would (it wasn't his fault - he couldn't have counted in the possibility of the supposed victim showing up alive and well).

Faith waited patiently for the detective; she sat in the kitchen, drank warm tea from a carefully inspected and as not harmful determined cup and hummed to herself quietly.

When the door opened, her face lightened up notably; then Mrs Hudson entered the room and Faiths smile faded just the slightest bit.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Sherlock isn't there yet," Mrs Hudson smiled warmly and looked at the seat in front of Faith with questioning eyes. She nodded, blinking softly and nipping at her tea.

"You know," Mrs Hudson smiled, "I don't know where you came from, Faith, or who sent you, but you're a blessing. You saved him. I've known Sherlock from a long, long time. And the past few weeks, he had been looking very lost to me"

Faith blinked curiously and sat up a bit straighter. "Lost?"

"Lost. As if he didn't know where he started and certainly not where he had to go," Mrs Hudson smiled; she seemed sad. "Since you're here he isn't like that anymore. He found his way. He just doesn't quite know it yet"

Faith wanted to ask; she wanted to ask where Sherlock's way led and how he found it, because in this moment the landlady seemed omniscient. But the detective with the dark curls entered the room right then, blinking and looking almost perplexed

"Hello, Sherlock" Faith stood up to greet him.

"Hello Faith," his deep voice was warm and his eyes gleamed sharply as he took her hand and squeezed it. They remained like that for a moment. When they let go of each other, Mrs Hudson was gone.

Faith only understood that she was Sherlock's way when it was already too late.

And it wasn't until she left him that Sherlock understood - he had also lost his way.

***

"Faith?"

"Hmm?"

"Faith," the petite woman looked at detective with surprise. His usually so confident voice had lost every last bit of its steadiness.

Sherlock refused to take his glance from the stars. He knew that Faith was looking at him, but he couldn't look into her eyes.

"You have to stop"

"Stop what?"

"Faith," Sherlocks voice had a warning undertone. They both knew what he meant. Faith bit her lower lip anxiously. "Sherlock... that's... difficult"

"No. Faith. Stop hurting yourself. It's easy"

As the tiny petite woman looked at him, she could see the whole universe in Sherlock's eyes. There was only infinity. And Faith started crying, because she was so awfully lost in his infinity.

She cried, because she didn't understand that she was the only constant in his infinity.

But Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back, and his hug gave Faith a little support. A little safety. A little... faith.

***

Faiths blue-green eyes widened with excitement as they discovered the snowflakes.

"It's snowing!," she shouted and jumped to her feet dizzily. Sherlock blinked in confusion, but Faith was too busy laughing to notice it.

"It's snowing, Sherlock!," the excitement didn't leave her voice as she turned around to the detective.

He nodded slowly.

"It's snowing, Sherlock. It's snowing," she repeated. By now she was whispering, soft and delighted and hopeful.

"My way," Sherlock muttered and blinked, because finally, he understood.

"What?," Faith looked at him with childish confusion, her forehead slightly wrinkled, her lips still pulled into a warm smile.

The detective shook his head and returned her smile. He stood, took Faiths hand and pulled her into a tight hug as their lean bodies shivered against each other.

"My way," Sherlock mumbled to himself. He had understood.

***

Sherlock Holmes was excited. Normally, Sherlock Holmes was never excited.

But normally, Sherlock Holmes didn't care about stars or snowflakes either. Or about women (or men, for that matter).

Faith had changed him a lot, and that was okay.

And now he was excited: not the "oh-this-case-is-gonna-be-good-one" kind of excited, but the anxious, shaky, nervous kind of excited.

Whether one wants to believe it or not, it was probably the first time since his childhood that he felt this very human emotion. And the cause was, once again Faith.

The two of them spent almost every night together on the bench in front of the Thames. Mostly silent, but sometimes filled with quiet whispers about their day, or about how bright the stars were shining that particular night.

Sometimes Faith visited him in the lab or waited for him in his flat, so that they could start off their late night excursion together; but they never had a... date.

Molly helped him realize that it was important. He still didn't quite understand why, and he didn't quite understand how Faiths mind worked, either, but by now, he knew her. Which was why he understood that Faith probably wanted to go on a date. A real one.

And even if he didn't want to admit it - he wanted a real date, too.

***

When Faith didn't show up that evening and didn't cancel either, Sherlock knew that something was wrong.

He texted her and he called, but there was no answer from Faith. For inexplicable reasons, Sherlock couldn't be as calm and productive as he usually was. His normally so clear thoughts were disturbed by sheer panic.

As Sherlock exited the cab, his heart stopped for one moment. The all too well known police tape cut off the house Faith lived in from the other ones.

Sherlock Holmes ran. He ran and ran and he felt like with every second passing, he was being carried away from Faith a little more.

***

Faith Smith was a special child. Her mind, so delicate and fragile, couldn't bear all that it was exposed to. She took pills, and a whole, colorful mix of them.

Those pills, that reassured her accountability and kept her alive, it was them, that in the end, took her life. A miscalculation, a slight overdose and a little wine were enough to kill her.

Faith Smith died on a cold winter evening in her flat. In her last moments, her blue-grey eyes grasped the falling snow through a window.

"His way," Faith mumbled to herself. She finally understood.

***

Sherlock Holmes didn't cry. Not until the day he thought his faith lost, and never again after that.

He couldn't bear to look at the stars anymore, because how could they give him hope, when Faith was missing?

He couldn't go out when it snowed anymore, because how could he be happy about the snow when Faith's big, child-like eyes were missing to admire it?

The worst thing was that Sherlock could never be sure.

Did she want to die?

The question didn't leave him, ever. He hated himself for that, day for day, that he couldn't be sure - that apparently, he didn't know Faith, after all. Or at least not well enough.

Sherlock Holmes lost his faith, and with it, everything about him that was still human.

Faith Smith left behind a heap of shards. She had never wanted to leave. She just wished Sherlock knew that.

***

Many months passed. Sherlock Holmes never left his flat anymore when it was snowing.

But one day, when he was sitting at the window, he could watch a small, limping man fight his way through another snowstorm. The door bell rang.

Heavily, the detective rose to his feet and opened it. The man he had just watched from the window was now smiling, full of uncertainty and holding out his hand.

"I'm John Watson," he said.

Sherlock didn't hear him. He was too busy staring at him.

[r00en]

Still Good- Chapter 8

After spending too much time being a hero Paladin is picked to replace All Might at U.S.J. Of course something goes horribly wrong.

All Might x Reader (OC) 

Warnings: Blood / Gore / Major Injury. 

Paladin get’s a little wrecked here. It’s not showed HOW but the aftermath is explained in detail so....be warned. 

Being scolded wasn't the worst thing in the world. At least not when they angry little huffs of Paladin were directed at him over the hard smacks of her grandmothers cane to his side. Toshi was slumped over on one of the office cots trying his best to look remorseful for his actions that day. He was, really he was. He spent too much time assisting other hero's and helping civilians on his way to work that his time had all but run out and he could no longer power up. That meant hiding away in the teachers lounge or for now nurses office until he had regained some of his energy. He should have just left it to the pro's on duty at the time. It as all petty activity anyway nothing life threatening but old habits seemed to die hard. "I really should start treating you like Grandma and refusing to heal you after stunts like this. Honestly Toshinori....you were meant to take the students to U.S.J today." She was using his full name. Not good. But still....

Letting out a defeated sigh Toshi scratched his neck with worry. "You're right. Of course. I wasn't thinking." Now he had to sit here and be pathetic all day. Useless. The though washed over him like a wave of hard hitting self loathing. "I should be there to teach those kids and I'm stuck here just being a burden." His own tone shifted to a dark and depressing rumble. Shoving his face in his heads and gripping his forehead a bit too tightly as if punishing himself for it foolish actions. Only when a pair of soft warm hands covered his own did he at last let up. She didn't let go either and he found himself twisting his palms to grip her's carefully. Little moments like this were both trilling and terrifying to Toshi. Close, personal, physical contact with her sent a spark of joy down to his gut but bubbled back up as worry, doubt and nerves. But each time he powered through and forced himself to keep that contact for as long as possible. Her hand pressed against the side of his head, thumb brushing over the small red spot he created in his anger and soothed it away with that wonderful cool numbing of her quirk. They both watched each other for a moment. Happy to just be as close as they were. "You can stay here if you like...I'm sorry my healing won't help you recover any faster..."

Toshi sat up a bit straighter and waved his free hand at her frantically. "Oh no! None of this is you're fault please! I feel better already, just being able to breath again without the pain in my side is more than enough." His fingers twitched over her's and he graced her with a real smile this time. "Thank you...you have always-"

The sudden woosh of the office door snapped them both apart. As intrusions to their quiet personal moments seemed to do these days. How is it they always managed to get caught looking like anything but coworkers? Toshi cleared his throat for want of something better to do to clear his head and seem presentable to the fuzzy principal as he walked in, looking as cheery yet slightly unnerving as always.

"My my what ever will we do with you All Might?" Wonderful, someone else was here to remind him of his short comings. "Still there is no need to look so glum about it. While this is a turn in situation you can be sure the staff and UA can handle sudden unexpected alterations!" Carefully Mr. Principal climbed his little self up into the office chair. Settling in with a little wiggle. "No need to worry! None at all! You can rest and meet up with the class as soon as you are able."

That at least put Toshi in some kind of ease. The day wouldn't be a complete loss though this self hate was going to take some time to work out of his system he would feel far better as soon as he could rejoin the students and do his job properly. "I'm sorry to be such a burden sir..." his shoulders bowed low in both defeat and apology. The small click of the Principles tongue and his waving little paw caught Toshi off guard and he found himself shrinking back a bit.

"No need no need! We will be sending our dear school nurse in your place for now! If you ask me it may work out for the better! The students arn't used to such intense training and are bound to have a few more mishaps than here on campus. U.S.J really is a test of it's own the first time around."

Both Toshi and Paladin blinked, looking to each other and back to their boss in disbelief. "M-me sir?" her stutter would have been cute if it were any other situation. "But I'm not a teacher...I don't think I could be of any help to the students in this sort of situation. They need hero guidance and-" "Were you not a pro hero back in the states Paladin? If I recall you made quite the name for yourself too even without any offensive abilities. The students need a good well rounded education. All Might may be able to teach them how to punch their problems away but you can teach them to use their head. Practical first aid in rescue situations, even battle tactics beyond brute force. Many of the first years this time around have powerful but under utilized quirks that could benefit from a fighting style like yours."

The wave of sudden odd compliments had her blushing to her ears. Both her hands trying to cover her pink cheeks and Toshi felt his heart to a little flip he had to force himself to look back at the small white mammal that was their facility leader. "He does have a point. While you are the schools nurse you have some amazing knowledge to pass on to the students that may be invaluable. Not only would the students be safer but you could truly teach them a thing or two the pro hero teachers have no experience with." That got her flushing even more and the little smirk Toshi couldn't hide was going to get him in trouble. He coughed into his fist to keep attention away from his face. Paladin was giggling softly to herself, slowly working into a nervous chuckle. Her hand coming down to smack him hard on the back a few times. Punishment or embarrassment Toshi couldn't figure out. "You too knock it off! All these complements are going to go right to my head you should know better!"

Mr.Principal laughed along as well. "It's settled then! You shall follow the students to U.S.J for these specialized lessons. Of course All Might you'll join them as soon as you feel well enough again." Toshi gave him a nod once he was sitting upright again. His spirits lifted at least slightly now that there was a mild solution to his royal fuck up this morning. The pure excitement she seemed to feel over this chance to interact with the students almost made it all worth it. Almost. His gut still swirled with a sense of unease that he chalked up to his disappointment. This was fine. Everything would be fine.

Both of them watched at their boss hopped himself down off his seat. His large boots squeaking as he made his way to the door. "Once you two are done blushing at each other in privet we can expect our dear nurse to join class 1-A at the school gates in about ten minuets." That sent the two of them back into a sudden panic. Both talking over each other to try and explain themselves. Come up with some excuse, defense anything at all to cover the obvious. Another small tsk from the tiny creature shut them up quickly and they were forced to stand there, bright red and looking anywhere but at each other. "You humans always make things far more complicated for yourselves. Remember, ten minutes Miss.Paladin." with his final word said the door snapped shut and both staff members were left to heat the room with their awkward tension.

"I um-" "You'll-"

"O-oh sorry!" "N-no no you-"

"I was going to-" "I just-"

If the two of them could get anything right Toshi would honestly question reality. Their fumbling, stuttering and tripping had been a long time staple of their friendship by now and try as he might to correct it it seemed to hang over them like a dark yet oh so endearing cloud. She stood in front of him, chewing her lower lip and keeping her eyes locked on what was apparently a very interesting empty notebook on her desk. She was nervous. So was he. He always was around her. A ball of static nerves and twitching limbs trying his best to not act like an inexperienced man well past his prime. He was back to rubbing his lanky neck again. Waiting those few more beats until he was sure she wasn't going to talk before him. "I think you'll be great. Far better than me I'm sure. At teaching that is. At most things really..." The light ruffle of his hair caught him off guard. She was carefully smoothing out the wild tufts that he could never manage to tame. The act was so soothing, so soft he felt he could melt into her hand and stay there.

She gave him that smile he loved so much, warm and loving. Looking right past what he was and gripping his heart through his chest. "Thank you. Knowing someone like you believes in me...I don't know what I would do without you Toshi." Live a long, healthy and happy life with a young, capable man far better than himself. Reality always had a way of slapping him hard across the face. That itching self hate that was getting more persistent day by day. Even when she was so focused on him, her affection plain as day even for a man like himself he had to ruin it by beating himself down and out. Maybe if he just kept doing it he could put out this flame he carried for her. Sure...though each second that passed between them felt like a bucket of gas tossed on the damn thing. Paladin stood straight again, pumping her arm up slightly and giving him her best All Might thumbs up. "I'll whip those kids into shape no problem! Teach them what being a pro hero is all about! I'll make sure I'm their favorite teacher from now on got it?!" Her tongue peaked out from between her sweet pink lips as she teased him, turning on her heels to head out the door.

There was no stopping it. That bonfire in his chest that burned ever brighter when ever she walked into a room. The pain in his side, his mind and his heart slowly pushed to the dark background. That self hate, weakness and loneliness banished with her damned smile that was etched into his thoughts. She was his own Symbol of Peace. A quiet one meant only for him.

~~~

"That's All Might....."

"It's my first time seeing him in person!"

"He looks so intimidating..."

"Idiots! Don't hesitate! If we kill that, we'll-- Gah!"

This fight was nothing. All Might kept repeating that in his mind as he struck down the minor villains around him. As he scooped up Aizawa and the students. Even as blood ran down his chin in a steady river and leaked from the new wound in his side. He could ignore the pain, he could fight through it and win! That's who he was! What ever that creature had taken what little he had left in him but he had to keep standing. Had to keep fighting. Protect everyone. All but one.

Toshi had no idea what had happened even seconds before he made his appearance. He couldn't fathom how 13 and Aizawa had been taken down, but beyond that there was Paladin. The hero who could take any hit, any attack and get back up. Just a crumpled mess on the ground. Unmoving save for the small twitch of her fingers rippling the pool of blood under her. Her once pure white coat soaking that warm liquid that didn't seem to stop flowing from a wound somewhere on her. He couldn't see. Damn it he couldn't move! That man had her. White hair, crazy eyes and hands. His true hand had a grip on her arm, her skin chipping away like old rotting paint but the faint glow of her quirk he had become so familiar with was trying it's best to beat it back. But why wasn't she moving?! What was she still bleeding? Why wasn't her quirk working everywhere else?! So many questions raced through his mind muddied by the light hiss of his strength leaving him like the air from a punctured balloon he was desperately trying to keep closed.

"I get it...." The voice was raspy and sharp. It chilled Toshi to the bone. "She heals doesn't she? How useful for a nurse...that's why even my Nomu couldn't keep her down. Interesting...." "Damn it..." Toshi hissed low between clenched teeth, catching the villains attention. "Oh I get it, this one's a friend isn't she? Important to you....like my Nomu was important to me....." It was scary how quickly this boys tone could shift. Threatening and unhinged to almost lighthearted and soft. "She was annoying. Couldn't do much but kept getting back up. Kept 'fixing' herself...you hero's always putting yourselves in harms way for others. Pathetic. But look at her now."

Midoriya's shaking voice cut through his unnerving rambling. He must have know Toshi was at his limit by now. Only he knew the real danger in front of them. "She....she got knocked out. I think she activated her quirk just before the last blow but it's trying to heal his quirks damage so it can focus on the rest of her body...he's doing too much damage too quickly for her to keep up. If we don't get him off her soon...."

It was a standstill for now. All parties stuck in place almost afraid to move. All Might couldn't. He could feel his form slipping bellow the rising smoke and dust he had kicked up. It was all he could to to appear a threat to them down. Standing still was almost too much. "But she's not what we want.....is she? But watching you squirm like that is justice for my Nomu.....revenge!" His grip on her arm seemed to increase and Toshi could hear the bone start to crack with the pressure of it. He needed to do something! Needed to act! Draw him away from her! "What if I grabbed her neck.....?" His free hand reached slowly, twitching it's long fingers as the teasingly made their way around her throat. One pinky held high but the pressure he applied forced an unwilling cough from Paladin that bubbled blood past her lips and down her cheeks. "Killed her in front of you...would that make you...angry All Might?"

"I'm sure we'd all like to end this as soon as possible."

The calm in his voice seemed to set this villain off. His wild eyes shaking behind the hand on his face. "You cheated...." Toshi could just make out his raspy whisper. "You used a cheat!" It was enough, he stood with Paladins arm still held tight in his grasp. Their quirks still battling for control of her body. "You're not any weaker at all!" It was like a child throwing a tantrum. The sight chilled Toshi as watch Paladin's limp body finally hit the ground with a disgusting, broken sound. Her quirk able to win out and heal the cracking skin and muscle of her arm....but it stopped. It wasn't moving to her side, head and legs. She couldn't direct it while she was unconscious! All Might had to end this and quickly!  "Did that guy lie to me......?" The wicked sound of dull nails on rough skin was all Toshi could hear as he eyed down the villain who was nervously scratching his neck in what looked like a panic attack.

"What's wrong......you're not coming?" He taunted. Draw him in. Buy more time. The teachers would be there soon. "You said you'd 'clearl' this or something, right? Come and get me if you can." This was all he could do. All he could think of. If he could muster up one solid punch then maybe.

The sudden rush of white and purple coming at him almost looked like a sloppy blur. "This is for my Nomu!!!" He was really going to rush him? This kid was going to rush All Might? Did he know he was at his limit? Guess that he hardly had any strength left in him? No....he was unhinged. Rushing blindly forward in a fit of rage. This was a level of dangerous that Toshi hadn't seen in a long time. 'Jeez....holy shit....' He stood his ground, tried his best to plant his feet. He had to do this! The blur of purple caught his attention but he hardly had the strength to move his head. Both of them were coming at him at such speed. 'Hurry!....Everyone hurry!' His only hope were the other teachers now, but as the villains inched closer his faith in that was growing dimmer. There was nothing the Symbol of Peace could do.

"Get away from All Might!"

Midoriya. All Might hadn't even seen him move. He was just there aiming a punch at the void villain. Shouting as loud as he could to draw as much attention as possible. Toshi wanted to stop him. Wanting to grab him and throw him out of harms way but he was stuck, Midoriya was too fast and the villains were already in a counter "I won't fall for that again!". The white one's hand warped through the purple and aimed itself at his face. Toshi watched hopelessly as the ring of the villains horrible cracking laugh drowned out all other sound around them...except the sudden gun shot. A bullet hitting that horrible hand and knocking it away from the students face. Midoriya crumpled to the ground unable to catch himself on broken legs. "Are they here?"

More gun shots and sudden muttering. The villains in a panic as the ran this way and that trying to assess the new situation. All Might could hardly see what was going on. Still rooted to the spot he tried his best to twist himself to the entrance, catching the dark silhouette of his fellow teachers making their way inside. 'Finally.....finally!'

"Sorry Everyone!" The Principles rather chipper voice echoed through the large arena. "Sorry we're late! I gathered all who were immediately available." "I, Tenya Iida, class 1-A representative, have now returned!' There was more shouting, more fighting. Present Mic's loud yell pierced through it all for a few seconds. Toshi could make out the gun fire, Ecto's clones were rushing through the groups of villains that were trying to scatter or put up a last final defense. Midnight's hazy pink mist was floating through the frosted area to his left. Everything was going to be fine. There was no way any of these second rate villains could stand up to this many pro hero's. "It's game over now....." That kids voice cut through the fighting and noise around them. He was backing up, retreating into his strange partners purple portal like body. "Shall we go home...and try again later, Kurogir--?" Bullets riddled his body. Knocking him to the ground as they ripped through his legs, his partner quick to cover him at absorb as much of the spray as he could. But even that was countered as the gust of pulling wind started to drag the strange quirk user up. 13 was alive and drawing them in even from that distance! They had no choice, either be captured or leave.

"You may have one this time....." That wild red eye was fixed on Toshi as the pair were being dragged upward. Sinking back into the inky purple of his personal portal he was still threatening. "....but I will kill you next time.....Symbol of Peace, All Might!" The silence they left in their wake was unnerving. Cut only by young Midoriya's struggled whimpering.

He tried to pull himself up. His legs far to damaged to move on their own. "I'm sorry....I'm sorry I tried to protect her...and I couldn't save you again. I failed again!" His gloved fingers gripped into the dirt as he tried to drag himself forward even a few inches. Still trying to stand. Toshi let out a soft sigh, blood spraying from his lips with the effort. "That's not true...you bought me a few valuable seconds...with you I would be dead. Young Midoriya you saved me once again." This quiet moment of reflection between the two of them was short lived yet heart felt. His student was alright, the villains were gone. And even in his misshaped half form he could say he was standing. Still that dark gut-wrenching feeling crawled up his spine as he remembered the blooded mess that was just a few feet from them.

"Midoriya hey!" A new voice cut through the quiet just as All Might was about to move from his cover in the drifting dust and smoke. Kirashima was racing forward towards his friend as as much as it warmed him to see how much the young boy cared for his classmates at this rate he would be caught. It was like he was trapped all over again. He couldn't hear what the two young boys were saying to eachother, though he did catch young Midoriya's panicked face as he seemed to try and dismay his friend from coming any closer. He needed to move damn it! Needed to get to Paladin! The sudden wall of earth shot up between them. Cementoss's voice muffled by the buffer but it seemed to do the trick and sent the red haired boy running off in a different direction. Even if it wasn't full cover, even if he stood the chance of being seen Toshi forced himself forward. Past his young student he stumbled over to the broken body that had been tossed aside so carelessly.

Sinking to his knees his shaking arms wrapped themselves around his body. Pulling her up against him to try and shake some life into her. His voice wasn't working....why wasn't his damn voice working?! His bright eyes moved across her body trying to figure out where the damage was. To his dismay it was everywhere. Her head was bleeding somewhere past her hairline, enough to coat almost the whole left side of her face in blood. Her lip was split, it looked like her cheek may have been broken. Her throat was red and bruising. He couldn't see the damage to the rest of her clothed body but the spots of blood that pooled up against the fabric of her coat was telling enough. A thin metal rot, most likely the framework of some nearby dumby building was to his horror jutting out from her right side. His hand hovered over that spot, trembling. As if he could will the wound away. His only solace was the faint glow of her quirk shining off the piercing metal. She was trying, at least her body was trying it's best to heal what it could. "Damn it.........damn it!" His fingers ripped into the dirt under her with such force he was sure his own nails were splitting. He couldn't save her. Couldn't stop this from happening. It was his fault, he used up his power this morning, he was why she was here in the first place. It was all him. In some in directed way Toshinori honestly believed he had done this to her.

"....she was trying to protect us. From that creature..." Cementoss had young Midoriya in his large arms. Ready to carry him to the rest of the teachers. "She told me about her quirk that day in the nurses office. If she's knocked out she can't heal properly...it's slower....sometimes it doesn't even work at all." Toshi brushed some hair from her face as carefully as he could. His fingers hovered over her lips to catch the soft warm air. She was breathing. Thank god she was breathing. "But that villains quirk was too fast for her. She had to focus on fighting it back and not healing her other injury's. If she didn't do that I think it would have just kept eating away at her. She knew that so she sacrificed the rest of her body to keep it at bay." He was right, her right arm was untouched, almost too clean and perfect next to the rest of her mangled body. Toshi adjusted her slightly so he could stand with her, but in doing so shifted himself enough to see the blood soaked hand that supported most of her body. A hot rage filled him, rushing through his veins, ignoring the crippling pain of his left side. The urge to scream, lash out, track down those villains and rip them apart with his bare hands was a new sensation for him. Not totally. He remembered it once before so many years ago. But it crept back up through him like a snake. Coiling around his heart and planting itself there.

He had promised himself that this exact thing would never happen. He would never see her like this again after that night on the train. He swore to protect her yet here he was. Carrying her broken little body out of the ruined arena. That hate twisted his gut as he carefully places her on the awaiting stretcher, he climbed in behind them and no one seemed to have the guts to tell him otherwise. Not with that look on his face. The look that dared anyone to so much as speak to him. One person did however, a second body climbed into the back of the ambulance with them. Both tried to make themselves small as the EMT set to work trying to stabilize his new patient.

Tsukauchi let out a huff. "I won't ask why you're back here..." He got no response, and honestly didn't expect to. His friends eyes were glues the injured woman and he clearly wasn't going to look away any time soon. "They are heading back to UA. Recovery girl is already expecting her. We made the call when you came walking out with her a minuet ago." Toshi gave a weak nod, that was all he was going to get for now. "....She'll be okay. From what you've told the second she wakes up she'll put herself back together and be scolding you for worrying so much." It was true, Toshi has confided in his friend more than once since his odd friendship with Paladin had started. He was the only other person Toshi could truly call a 'friend' and someone far more experienced in social matters. He felt a hand give him a soft pat on the shoulder and that was enough for him to turn and give the worlds weakest, most tired smile he could. "I mean it. She's going to be real mad at you if she wakes up to that face."

He was right but Toshi couldn't help it. His heart hurt so damn much. It was battling between a flaring haterade and anger, fear, grief....self loathing. He watched as his friend hopped out of the back letting the doors close behind him. He tried to let his words sooth him, just a bit. It wasn't working well but it let his shoulders relax and his hands unclench from their shaking grip. "She's stable for now...." The EMT's voice was a little unsure, he didn't know why this strange beat up looking skeleton of a man was sitting in the back with them on their way to UA but much like everyone else he feared questioning it. And if the detective seemed fine with it he wouldn't bother. "We'll be back at UA soon."

It couldn't be soon enough.

[sevensav--d-archived]

@shinsoutm​ sent  💘 DO I EVEN GOTTA SPECIFY

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you...

Under the cut because it’s long.  

A lot of this is from off-blog plotting so consider it a sneak peek~

where they first met and how

Hitoshi walked into class 1A to ‘declare war’ on her class and her first thought was that he looked like Hitoshi but cooler, but she mostly just thought he was a dick.  Admittedly she figured that he’d fit in with her class just fine if he actually made it in.  She was REALLY weary of him at the Sports festival and steered clear of him.  Eventually Itoshi properly introduced them and they got along much better after Hitoshi made his way into the Hero Course.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

It’s hard to say since for them flirting was a sort of???  It wasn’t very obvious from either party.  They wanted to impress each other, and they just became really good friends.  Flirting wasn’t really prevalent in them falling in love.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Hmmm.  I feel like it was probably close to being around the same time that feelings got ‘real’ but Nomiko definitely became aware of her initial attraction to him during his fight with Midoriya at the sports festival.  His passion struck her, and she related a lot to what he had to say.  It just kinda got more and more intense from there.

where their first date was and what it was like

This is a point of contention, because they went out so many times platonically as teens and young adults, that by the time they were actually officially a relationship they can’t really decide which ‘date’ was the first one.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

It was sort of an unspoken thing.  One moment, they were simply really close friends and the next they were fully committed to each other.  It literally was like a light switch.  When they got together initially, it was as easy as breathing.

who proposes first

Hitoshi was the proposer!

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Once they were actually a relationship they didn’t have to tell people.  Anyone in their vicinity knew.  Itoshi was the first to know, being their roommate at all.  They’re both not secretive about being together, they’re so proud to be with each other.  THAT BEING SAID, professionally speaking they’re so private about their lives outside of hero work.  Close friends know what their deal is, but the media is still trying to figure out what’s going on.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Hitoshi fully proposed to her in the middle of a fight.  Nomiko laid the dude she was fighting out flat and jumped into Hitoshi’s arms and accepted his proposal.  It was considerably casual (him yelling “marry me!” out to her during the fight) but Nomiko thinks it was the absolute best way to propose to her.

if they adopt any pets together

Of course.  Hitoshi gets a cat (Susan) pretty quickly into his time living with Nomiko and Itoshi and Nomiko took care of it whenever he was gone.  And basically if either of them ever cross strays, they’re coming home.  Hitoshi has more of the knack for fidning them but after a trip home to check on her mom she comes back with a kitten she named Turnip.  (See Mac’s post on this to see their other cats dsk dfg) 

who’s more dominant

I think, generally speaking, Nomiko might come out on top a bit more.  She is more aggressive and dominant across the board in a lot of aspects of their lives.  However, Hitoshi is typically the one who takes charge in relationship matters such as affection.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

It was at a party that their class was throwing.  They had to kiss during a kissing game and Nomiko got really embarrassed and upset that her first kiss was kind of fucked up by having everyone looking at laughing.  Hitoshi tracked her down to make her feel better.  They kissed in her dorm to ‘make up” and Nomiko fully counts that more as her first real kiss.  Not that it matters, it was with him regardless.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

Not intentionally.  He has a lot of gear that says Mothman on it (not like... HER mothman, just Mothman in general) and she has some stuff too, plus some underground merch with her name on it.  Also she definitely has some of his merch and sometimes will sleep in an oversized Control Freak shirt.  Also Itoshi definitely secretly made them both sweaters that are identical, but he gave them as gifts for different occaisions and they dont realize it until they accidentally wear them at the same time.

how into pda they are

Nomiko likes to be touching him as much as possible, in some way.  She doesn’t find herself in public as often the more she leans into her career but sometimes after fights that he helps with she will want to kiss behind a dumpster or something.  When they go out for nights on the town it’s a whole new ball game, they are nearly constantly connected in some way.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

Hitoshi, because he is so much taller than she is.  She tries but the rain makes her sleepy......

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

I think that they keep going back to the same little Cat Cafe for a few years even when they aren’t dating.  But otherwise?  They mostly stick around where they live they’re both pretty fond of being at home.

who’s more protective

It’s a toss up, really.  They’re both very protective of the other.  I think in typical ‘real life’ situations Hitoshi is more protective (like in bars or in public spaces) but if they’re involved in a fight with a villain Nomiko will fight tooth and nail to keep her boy safe.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Before getting together they were roommates and very close friends who are very close with each other.  Even before they were adults sometimes they’d both fall asleep while hanging out with Itoshi in his room.  They both sleep better in the presence of the other, that transcends the nature of their relationship.

if they argue about anything

Sure, sometimes it’s about stupid stuff that’s subjective like which brand of juice is best.  Sometimes she can get upset about him getting himself hurt, or she’ll get a little upset about him leaving for so long.  Whe nhe comes back from his eight years of being ‘dead’ it’s more of a serious thing, where the yargue about his reactivity to situations. 

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Hitoshi does.  However, part of that is because with all his tattoos it’s hard to tell just how many marks he’s got on his back and neck.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Nomiko fully integrates 1/3 of his wardrobe into her own wardrobe.  She likes how big and comfy they are, she likes that they smell like him- she just.  She’s a little Hoodie thief.  Most of her relax at-home lounge wear are either clothes that are his or were his when he was younger.  He leant her a hoodie when they were seventeen and she still has it and wears it to bed in the winter.  He’ll take some of her clothes to be funny, but she thinks he looks good in her tiny shirts b/c boy in crop top....  Good shit.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

Nomiko is so small and so easy to move around that the possibilities are endless.  Her favorite is to either nestle into the crook of his arm, or just laying on top of his chest so she can listen to his heartbeat.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

She likes existing in his presence.  Just sitting with him while they watch television or movies or like.. Playing video games.  Just sitting in his lap while they’re relaxing at home.  He’s a good sport about going out into nature with her too and she loves that.  Also?  Training.  Like.  Fuck, training turned tension?  Hi!  Hello.

how long they stay mad at each other

Nomiko has an angry nature so she can really hang onto anger for a long time, but she can...  Sort of love and be angry at the same time.  When they’re younger she’s rarely TRULY mad at him, but as they get older she makes a point to try not to be around him as much when she’s truly angry because she loves him and she doesn’t want to subject him to her ugly angriness.  She hates being mad at him, it always feels stupid to ever be MAD at him.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Nomiko mostly drinks hot drinks and she likes them sweet with a lot of caffeine.  Hitoshi helps her branch out so she can try more things.  And she keeps him from doing gas station coffee with red bull.

if they ever have any children together

Yes!! Yes, they have three kids.  We need to design and name them which is as you all know my favorite thing.  Nomiko saw him interacting with a kid and knew immediately she wanted to have kids with him.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Nomiko calls him her beau when they’re dating, she usually defaults to baby or darlin’ otherwise.  He’s better at actual nicknames.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

They do.  She was under the impression that he died on a mission and he was gone for eight years.  But really, they never turly stopped by way of words.  Even why he came back, it was like... Yeah, we are still together, even if it’s weird and hard and not how we want it to be just now.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Their initial apartment was a chaotic place since Itoshi lived there and he’s a mess.  Nomiko likes to be tidy and she and Hitoshi don’t have a lot of things between them so their spaces are much more clean.  Nomiko would clean his room even whe nhe wasn’t around.  It made her feel like he wasn’t gone.  Their house is a cozy place, pretty classic and traditional but so personal to them.  It also has a very elaborate and massive cat tree that goes through literally every room of their home.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Nomiko is not really a holiday person, so she usually works on most Christmases since it’s not really a big deal to her.  As time goes on though and more of her friends have families and after really establishing the fact that Itoshi is also family and by extension any family he has- They start hosting Christmas and Nomiko finally seems to understand how special it can be.

what their names are in each other’s phones

For most of their friendship Nomiko had it set as either his name, or Itoshi changed it to be “Worse Itoshi” and she kept that for awhile.  She’s not very tech savvy so it’s usually something along those lines.  By the time they’re married his name in her phone is just My 💜 And her name in his is probably bug emojis and a silly nickname in his.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

Hmmmm....  Nomiko always takes him to that same Cat Cafe whenever he comes back from some time away.  She also pretty much without fail gives him a backrub when he gets home from work.  

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

These insomniacs?  It’s a race.  Who will fall asleep first?  Who knows.  It is a mystery.  She usually is the one that drops off first and he wakes up earlier.  But she’s usually up pretty quickly after him because she likes to go on runs in the morning.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Nomiko was built to be the little spoon.  Look at her.  Look at how little.

who hogs the bathroom

They’re very efficient and probably use the bathroom for its services at the same time.  They definitely take care of showers back to back and use the tub together.  As far as hygiene and grooming habits are they’re both pretty simple.  She doesn’t really do much for her own appearance.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Spiders are treated like guests.  If it’s nice outside, it will be brought outside, but honestly Nomiko doesn’t have an issue having them around in the house.

[vespiiqueen]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you (if you want !! 💛💖)

Wow I rambled a lot with this but i can't add cuts bc I'm on mobile rn DHSISHSJ sorry :"))))

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1. Ik Ik "haha how cringe are you" of me to say, but honestly? Homestuck. Homestuck helped me in a time of need and when i so desperately wanted something to latch onto. Finally, I caved into my friends telling me to read it-- and it's been a blast!! The epilogues / hs^2 make me feel kinda sad though, because so much of what I loved about the original was yeeted through the nine circles of hell and into the trash. I love Y/ffany's (I call her Yippi tho) design, the art is really pretty at times, Harry is a major dork, I LIVE for seeing Vrissy bc honestly?? Her design is 10/10, very early 2000s emo style and I also live for that. Tavros is cute and a nerd and I think that's swell!

But in terms of story and how any of this happens, it makes me sad to see it happen. If Vriska could return as Vrissy, why not OTHER beta trolls? Where's my Eridan fish man, writers?? Give me the boy or perish by my fury.

2. Also super "haha how cringe are you" but,,, murder cats (Warriors), esp the early 2005-2015 amvs and stuff. I remember watching Flightfootwarrior's "I Will Not Bow" Scourge amv for HOurs and having no clue what was happening, but all these edgy kitties were KITTIES! It's introduced me to a lot of music I still listen to to this very day (Imagine Dragons, Young/the entirety of Hollywood Undead, Breaking Benjamin). And yknow what?? This new arc is absolute chaos, but in the good way.

I'm an "OG Fan". I prefer the first arc, The Prophecies Begin, to almost any of the other arcs. I just could never get into the other arcs-- not to say I haven't read them, I HAVE and the Fire Scene was probably one of my favorite moments beside grumpy Jaypaw, god complex Lionblaze, and fear the gods Hollypaw. I thought the build-up for it was SUPER satisfying. Gray Wing is my baby and I fully embellish in the Gray Wing is Silverpelt theory.

This new arc is definitely something new for the universe. While I didn't read aVoS (but I may do that if i can find the files for it), and so I don't know the major events of it other than what I've seen M.A.P.'s (Multi-Animator Projects, for clarification,,, bc unfortunately that term is also something disgusting). There's fucking cat possession and all the Clans questioning their belief system, yo. Shit be on fire.

Also the Imposter is 100% Ashfur, that's canon now, yeah??? Also im sorry but fuck Root x Bristle that's the dumbest shit I have ever seen. Give me Root x Shadow or face the wrath of my dragon plushies.

RiverClan is my Clan and my gov assigned warrior name is Fireshell 🌟🌟

3. As much as I hate the author,,,,, Harry Potter. It's been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember. I can never really remember why, but I've always just loved it- the movies, the books, the extra little merch that would pop up in my local Walmart. Of course my favorite character is Draco Malfoy. I could go on and on and ON about how I think his character arc was SHIT and JKR didn't have the balls to make him a confident gay man that was always implied through the text (at least, my lesbian ass thought it was implied but i may just be projecting, idk). I could ramble about Draco for HOURS and what I think his character SHOULD have been and how his parents are horrible (more specifically, Lucius bc Narcissa [?] Actually showed a few good moments), and a child should never have to pay for their parents sins.

Oh noo, Draco's a villain because he's a victim of major abuse and peer pressure? He's a villain because a literal child can be horrible and they'll always always always stay as a horrible little fiend?? Fuck that. He's a child.

Unlike manchild grease pan Snape, who was a racist piece of shit and shouldn't have became a fucking school teacher but it's okay because he was ~~~in love~~~. No, fuck you, he was a creep. James Potter n Co may have been a little posh bitch to you, Snape, but that's no fucking excuse to continue to bluntly be a little cunt all the way into adulthood. You're an adult who flatly changed your PATRONUS to imitate Lily's. You have no excuse. And Harry went and named his child after you LIKE JESUS CHRIST, DID RON'S SISTER NOT HAVE A SAY IN THE NAMES TOO?????

I also fully adore the idea that Muggles can run into Hogwarts and their patronus can 100% be a made up, fantasy creature. Imagine you learn the patronus spell and suddenly fucking ARCEUS comes from your wand. Imagine learning the spell and CHTULU (i did not spell that right but im so tired) comes from your wand-- an entire ass fucking Lovecraftian, Eldrith horror is just the embodiment of you. What if it was a fucking Homestuck character like Vriska? How fucking METAL would that be?? Hskajssowjjsjs get on it fandom.

4. Hee hee very evident by my url but Pokemon is another major thing of mine. While vespiquen isn't my favorite (that title goes to Hydreigon), it is definitely up there!

I've ALWAYS enjoyed the idea of Pokemon. You run around, training up these fight monsters and collecting them. I remember playing my sister's Ruby version on her flip-up Gameboy. I couldn't even read but I ran around catching god only knows how many of the same pokemon wherever she was. Apparently, I had fought for hours in the same area and leveled her Blaziken up to lvl 50 something and left her lvl 30s in the dust LMAO.

I got my first game when it was Pearl/Diamond. It was Pearl, and it still holds a very fond place in my heart. I could barely read, I could barely write-- I had named my Turtwig something along the lines of "MmorpHy" and my player boy "ZbsibJ". Yes I remember the names slightly. I really didn't get far-- I barely got to the first gym but I was just so happy to play it.

I eventually lost the game, as a 5 year old would do, but I can still vividly remember what was happening when the game arrived. I had just came back from the dentist and was quite tired from fighting the dentist bc I was super scared. Mom suddenly handed me a box and said it was mine-- my overseas (at that time) dad had bought me Pearl and my sister Diamond, because I lost my shit about it when he visited one time.

Well, tdlr, I played it for about five minutes while struggling to stay awake against the loopy gas they made me take. I fell asleep listening to Twinleaf Town's soundtrack. Every time I play a rom of Pearl and I get to where the player's house fades in and I hear that first tune of the song, I get a huge smile on my face and cry-- as.. Weird as it sounds.

A few years later, I had gotten Pokemon Black bc I liked Reshiram on the cover. Now, this one I could actually READ when playing, but I don't remember a lot of things about it. I probably lost this one too, as a 8/9 year old would do. I DO remember, I chose Snivy and my sister chose Tepig (hrmm there's a theme here of grass/fire goin on......) and vibing to the music. I was so amazed by the sprites moving, I just kept getting into encounters to see the sprites move (oh boy, no one tell younger 7-9 y/o me about Zelda......oh wait....)

Playing Pokemon NOW, as a 17 year old """gifted""" chick, I stil have very fond memories. I recently beat Pokemon Black again and GOD the OTS SLAPS. I fucking adore the soundtrack-- the track that plays when you battle a trainer, the low health dings being turned into a legit song that also slaps, the battle! gym leader themes-- and oh my gOd, the legendary theme is amazing? It really tells you just how glorious these pokemon are supposed to be. It's not intimidating like Groudon/Kyroge/Rayquaza's themes. It's not action packed like Palkia/Dialga's is, it's not filled with tension like Giratina/Arceus's is-- but it radiates the GLORY that the beasts portray. And I live for that. (Also, Kyurem's version is my favorite because it glitches in the beginning and that's rly cool)

P/D/P and BW/BW2's stories, imo, are some of the greatest ones. Yeahhh, US/USUM's is cool and I haven't played XY nor SwSh-- but the ones I can find memorable are PDP and BW/BW2. I love N. I love Barry. They're my sons. Ghetsis is fucking terrifying, Cyrus needs a hug. Giratina scared the piss out of me when I was younger, which was NOT helped by Giratina and The Sky Warrior.

I think my favorite movies are the gen 4 ones. The Rise of Darkrai having a tear-jerking theme for such a mysterious pokemon (i still tear up when i hear Ocarion), Giratina being spiteful is a mood and Shaymin was cute, Arceus being angry is also a mood. Yeah, Pokemon 4Ever made me cry my eyes out over Celebi, Mewtwo Returns made me again cry because Mewtwo accepting who he is, I remember how vastly different the BW movies are-

I just. I have a lot of memories with the series, even if Gamefreak and Nintendo kinda do the series dirty a lot (your top-grossing thing and you made That monstrosity for the Switch? How dare you.). It's comforting to be stressed and pull up my roms for the games and to play them. Mystery Dungeon is incredibly fun to play, Pokemon Ranger is really fun with the concept (Shadows of Almia continues to kick my ass to this very day and FUCK the Jungle Relic, I hate the Water Challenge fucking gyarados bullshit). I remember the pokemon I got for MD (I got Time, my sis got Darkness) was Mudkip, if that is any help.

I love my little fictional pixel monsters.

5. Yup, someone told tiny 7-9 y/o me about console games. The legend of Zelda. My first Zelda game was Twilight Princess on the Wii and BOY did I play the fucking SHIT out of that game.

Honestly, looking back and looking at playthroughs now-- I still love TP. Twilight Princess is still one of my top favorite Zelda games-- yes, even after playing OoT, Majora's Mask, Wind Waker, Skyward Sword, the anniversary four swords edition for the DS where you could play by yourself (Nintendo pls bring that back, I don't have friends to play it with ;-;), Phantom Hourglass- ect.

Something about Twilight Princess grabbed me by the head and yeeted me into the world. I can remember playing it for hours with little to no breaks. I, a tiny 9 y/o, had gotten the hang of the controllers and managed to get past the tutorial quite easily. And then, I was launched into the game and I wasn't stopping for NOTHING. Mom and Dad would have to force me to save and get off to go and eat dinner. THAT sucked.

I had done everything on my own up until the first temple, the forest temple. Not where/when you saved the dumb kid, but when you were saving the spirit's light. Theeeeeeennn I got stuck on the fucking Forest Temple for deadass six months straight. I'd play for hours, running around in circles, unable to figure out where to go, and because I didn't grasp the temple's purpose of being that way- I'd get angry and get off. It wasn't until dad looked up a walkthrough and talked me through what I was supposed to do that I learned how to get through temples.

I had gotten to the last little fight with Ganondorf before the Wii broke and i could no longer play. Despite the Wii being broke and we got rid of it, I was ADAMANT on keeping the game, and I kept that game for YEARS. It was an original copy out of a sealed box, and I eventually lost it when I left it accidentally at my now ex-friend's house.

She had a Wii and I went "hey I have a Wii game!" And I brought my Zelda over. Worst fucking choice of my goddamn life. Mom called me to come home and said I couldn't sleep over like the original plan was, and that was it. My ex-friend stashed my Zelda and I never saw it again. And, even if I wanted to-- I couldn't get it back, which makes me upset. We had a BAD falling out. She likely doesn't even remember it's there, or sold it to the local game junkie kid who buys ALL games.

But I still love the game. Midna was amazing, and I loved how snarky she was and she has a very cute design! The game's OST is fucking phenomenal. Midna's Desperate Hour makes me cry bc goddamn it really sells how serious that situation is. I love Hyrule Field's theme in this game. I love the Twilight Realm's song. Zant was fucking hilariously scary. Ganondorf's design in this game scared the piss out of me when I was younger.

Midna and this game's Link and Zelda are def my favorites. Yeah yeah, Sheik is cool and all I Guess but dhsushwishs Midna holds the special place in my heart. She was totally my gay awakening BUT

For other game antagonists, I adore Ghirahim-- let's go you funky little queer-coded villain. Skull Kid was great, I love the entire dynamic of him. Prankster lost soul stumbles upon Majora's Mask and the mask makes him act out due to powers-- which, I actually took very heavy inspiration from for one of my OCs. The moon falling to Hyrule was a fucking terrifying looming threat.

But the game series holds a place, and I've yet to be able to play BoTW-- although, I'm fairly certain I'll like it. The playthroughs I've watched of it are all fairly decent! I just. Gotta save up enough money to buy it haha.

Dang guess I gotta go watch a Twilight Princess playthrough again.

Honorable Mentions:

Avatar: the Last Airbender, specifically Book 3

my OCs definitely make me happy, they're my children and I'd ramble A LOT longer if given the chance WHEEZE

My friends, but I didn't add them here bc it's more fictional stuff, I presume

Baking. I love to bake cupcakes.

Painting is fun. I'm an artist and goddammit im going to use painting as an excuse to make a mess.

Fire. I rly like fire, down to a pyromaniac level. However, i hate the fires that happened to my home town, the Great Smokey Fires of 2016-- THAT pissed me off. How dare you burn mountain landscapes to the ground. Perish.

History. I'm a history nerd.

I'm also a science nerd.

But fuck math, I cannot comprehend math to save my life.

For some reason, I rly like learning how the human body works??? like did you know, organs are actually sticky when touched by a bare hand?? Did you?? How fucking cool is that.

Bakugan. I love Bakugan, esp the DS game. I love my Darkus Leonidas. Give me back the online world, you peasants-- I want my Darkus Dragonoid. (Also fuck all my friends from when I was in kindergarten- my theory that Alice was Masquerade was somewhat correct.)

[spilledinkstories]

‘Round the Mountain

She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she comes…

We’ll go out to meet her when she comes…

☀︎

“Have you ever seen it before?” Little Emma asked her grandmother. 

“When I was about your age,” her grandmother said with a soft smile. 

“I can’t imagine a world without the moon,” said Ben, a few years older than Emma, forgetting to try to be cool about the upcoming event. 

It had been ten long years of night. The world was lit by the glowing moon that never waxed or waned, turning the landscape of the small town nestled between the feet of three mountains into world of blues and purples and greys.

“When I was your age I said the same thing about the coming of the moon,” Ben and Emma’s mother said. They were seated around a scrubbed wooden table in their family home, Father and Mother at each end, and the children facing the large picture window with eyes wide.

“I’m going to be at work a lot more,” their father said. 

“Why?” Ben asked.

“We have to make sure the solar factories are working perfectly. We need to be able to store as much sunlight as possible before the next lunar season. It’s what powers the city.” 

“Not having to constantly have the lights on is going to be a nice change,” Mother said. 

“I can’t wait to plant my roses,” grandmother said, a wide smile splitting her face. 

In the kitchen off to the side of the dining room, a thin screeching started. Mother got up to take the kettle off the range and pour the hot chocolates, Emma racing into the kitchen behind her and grabbing the whipped cream out of the fridge. 

“I’ll go downtown to buy sunscreen tomorrow,” Mother said. 

“If there’s any left,” Father said with a dry chuckle, coming into the kitchen to help carry the full mugs. 

“I know, I should have gone last week. But it’s coming sooner than any of us thought.” 

“We all thought we had more time,” grandmother agreed. 

“What’s sunscreen?” Ben asked, taking gulp of the cocoa and licking the whipped cream moustache from his face. 

Emma clambered back into her chair, and stared with wide eyes as her father described how your skin can burn and sting and even peel off if you don’t protect yourself from the sun. 

“So the sun is bad?” Emma was too young to picture any world other than the one she knew. She wrung her tiny hands, pulling her nightgown over her knees that were curled up to her chest, as though hiding under the covers. 

“No, no. It isn’t evil or dangerous. You’ll love it. The sky will be bright, and the evenings golden, but it will never be perfectly dark. Not for a long time. You’ll be able to feel the warmth of it on you, just sitting outside.” 

“One thing I haven’t missed, the heat,” grandmother grumbled. 

“I can’t wait to not have to pile sweaters on,” Ben said excitedly. 

“Well, it shouldn’t be long now, we might as well hit the road once we’re done our drinks,” Mother said. 

Father looked at the clock that hung on the wall behind his head, and was surprised to see that it was nearing six in the morning already.  

They finished their drinks, dressed, turned all the lights off in their cozy home for the first time in the children’s memory, flicked on some flashlights, and made their way to the streets. 

Despite the early hour, the streets were packed with the residents of Canyon Springs. Everyone was wearing light jackets, and children were talking excitedly of what they imagined a golden world would look like. 

Grandmother was looking around her, committing everything to memory. The way the pavement was a dark and sombre grey, the deep indigo of the sky, the smattering of stars that twinkled merrily. The owls that could always be heard hooting, the silver light of the moon through thin, veiny leaves. The way houses themselves seemed to sleep. She would miss it, indeed. 

“I think a golden world would be magical,” Emma was saying. “If everything was gold, you could cut it up and buy things.” 

“It won’t be real gold, idiot,” Ben said, exasperated. 

“Benjamin,” Father said, though he was smiling. 

“Everything will be bright and colourful, like your picture books,” Mother said warmly. 

As they walked, passing the houses and entering the downtown where small shops and restaurants sat, windows unlit, their neighbours joined them, and they paraded in the dark down to city hall, in the centre of town in the heart of the mountains. 

“Here, live at the scene, we will broadcast the rising sun, for all you sleepyheads who couldn’t make it down here yourself!” A camera man was saying, clearly thrilled that he’d been chosen for the prestigious job of introducing the sun to the world of morning news television. 

“Ready to work like slaves, Paul?” A man said to Emma’s father, slapping him on the back.

“The overtime will be killer, but the money will be nice,” Father said bracingly.

“I heard they want to try a new storage method, gonna have a bunch of engineers come in to build it,” the man said. 

“Course. Their motto is ‘if it ain't broke, fix it anyway.’” The two men laughed. 

“How will we know where to look?” Emma asked, looking up at her mother. 

“You’ll know. The sky will get lighter, on one side of the mountains.” 

“That’s weird,” said Ben. 

“It’ll get all yellow and light blue,” grandmother said. “I should have brought a chair,” she added with a sigh, folding her thin arms across her chest. 

Ben and Emma wandered over to the large, round fountain at the centre of town square. It had been empty their whole lives, and so really just looked like a large cement basin, with a statue of some important man sticking out of the middle. The local children were running around the ledge and playing.

“My dad said since it hasn’t rained in a a while, the sky might look scarlet,” one of Emma’s classmates was telling her. He was an obnoxious little boy, with a turned-up nose, and seemingly permanent jam stains on his cheeks. 

“That’s silly, how could a sky be red.” 

“He said red skies at morning are a sailor’s warning,” the boy said defensively, as though this were an obvious truth. 

“We haven’t got any sailors,” Emma said, glaring at him. 

But as they bickered, an anxious murmur broke out, rippling across the crowd. 

“Why is it doing that?” Hushed voices were saying.

“Have we angered it?” A woman said, fear making her voice high and constricted. 

“It isn’t a person. It’s a ball of gas,” said a tired, bored sounding man. 

“Here at the scene of the Rise, locals wonder what the odd colour could mean,” the news-reporter was saying in harsh, quick tones, as though he was reporting a robbery. “Here with me now is Brenda, who thinks it’s angry. Tell us about this, Brenda.” 

“Well, Tom, I’ve read that if the sky burns red it means that we’ve angered the gods. It means that we’ve been evil, we’ve sinned, and punishment shall reign down upon our heads.” 

“That was Brenda, with a religious outlook,” said Tom, the camera following him away from her to find someone else in the crowd, a smirk tugging at his the corners of his mouth.

“Hello, Sir, how are you? Do you have a theory?” Tom the newsman thrust the microphone into a man’s face. 

“Well, my dad, he was a sailor, see…”

“That’s my dad,” said the jam-faced boy to Emma. 

“…and he always told me that if the sky was red, ‘specially at dawn, there’d be rain.” 

“Rain isn’t red,” someone from the crowd shouted, and people tittered and jeered. 

“Could be, could be,” Tom said, trying to comfort the man who now looked embarrassed. 

“Angry gods, rain, anyone else think they know why the sky is red?” 

As this commotion had been going on, Emma hurried back to her family. She stood with her back pressed against her mother’s legs, her brother close on her right. They exchanged nervous glances. This was not the golden surprise they had been promised. 

Above the peaks of the mountain the sky was blanketed with clouds that rippled and swayed, and were turned the colour of burning embers and ash. In contrast, the face of the mountain was deep, angry black. The world the children had known their whole lives as blue and purple and silver, as friendly and sleepy, had morphed in a matter of minutes. It was as though someone had lit the mountains ablaze, and the flames were licking over the town. 

“Daddy said it could burn,” Emma squeaked to Ben, as hot tears made her eyes itch. She scrubbed her knuckles across her face. 

“What’s that, little girl?” She hadn’t noticed that Tom was standing behind them, and he’d heard Emma’s shy comment. He squatted, and she looked at the crusty makeup caked on his face for the camera, smelled the old coffee and cheap cologne, and did not like Tom the newsman. She pushed back against her mother’s knees, ducking her chin to avoid looking at him.

“Don’t be shy, do you know about the sky?” She peered over his shoulder and saw the camera trained on her. She swallowed nervously, and leaned forward. 

“My dad told me the sun could burn you if you’re not careful. It looks like the sky is on fire. I’m scared we’ll burn.” 

“Goes well with the angry gods theory, I guess,” Tom said as he stood, apparently having heard enough out of little Emma. She was relieved not to have to say more. 

“Look!” Came a shout from someone on the other side of the fountain. Again, whispers and mutterings ricocheted through the rapt audience as they all watched the sky, for at the very peak of the mountain, what appeared to be the bottom of the sky, the angry red was giving way to a bright orange peppered by warm pinks. 

“The fire’s goin’ out, little girl,” said Emma’s father’s friend from work, smiling down at her. She said nothing, continuing to stare. 

The strip of orange and pink seemed to be getting higher and higher, and the red clouds morphed to purples and yellows, as though a foggy rainbow was engulfing the whole scene.

The orange got less foggy. It grew sharp, and bright, and yellow, and Emma thought of a searing yellow blade cutting through the clouds. Tears burned her eyes, and she squinted, determined not to miss a second. 

“Here we go, folks, are you getting this?” Tom said, his hand shielding his eyes. 

“She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain, any second now,” said the man who’s father was a sailor.

With bated breath the people of Canyon Springs watched as the sun pulled itself into the sky, up through the clouds from behind the mountain. The black face of the rock slowly turned from ebony, to graphite, to light grey, and for the first time ever Emma realized that there was snow at the tops, which immediately glistened from the heat of the great golden orb. The sky was still transforming, purples and oranges giving way to bright, happy blues. The moody, dark clouds became fluffy white, making Emma think of the whipped cream on her hot chocolate that morning. She looked at Ben, and was shocked to see that he didn’t look happy. 

“What’s wrong, isn’t it great?” Emma asked. 

“Where did the stars go?” She blinked, and looked back up at the sky, and realized he was right. They were gone. They’d always been there, and while everyone had told them the moon would be missing, no one had warned them about the stars. 

“They’re still there, next to the moon,” grandmother said, smiling a little sadly at them. “They’ve earned their rest.” 

“I’ll miss finding pictures in them,” Ben said, though he looked reassured. 

“You can do that with the clouds,” his father said, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Everyone stayed in the square for about a half an hour, making sure the sun was good and steady, before slowly dispersing to go back to their lives, flashlights hanging uselessly by their sides, some of them taking their jackets off and slinging them over their shoulders. The years of night had come to a close, and as they bathed in the new warmth radiating down on them, none could help the smiles spreading on their faces.

[adulttrio-imagines]

It Lurks Beneath Our Feet

I got this idea from a concept an anon sent me sometime back of Hisoka as a young child. It was originally just supposed to be a oneshot character study of sorts, but has since developed into something so much more, so consider this part 1 of a (hopefully) 5 part series. I originally posted this and deleted it after some issues on the tags, so it’s also a repost. Hopefully I’ll get part 2 out soon.

Shira isn’t sure what to make of the little Morrow boy couple houses down, who currently sat at the entrance, kicking his stumpy legs and laughing at the puffs of dirt clouds they conjure. She supposes he looks like all the other brats born out of the red light district; malnourished, dirty and disgustingly small, dressed in tatters and covered in bruises. They scurry around in packs, looking not unlike sewer rats in the day, scavenging for whatever scraps they can to survive. At night, they huddle behind whatever alley they can to avoid roaming customers who’s taste can’t be satisfied by their actual workers. She closes her eyes, unconsciously clasping the ribbon around her throat as the feeling of bile rose steadily in her chest, trying to keep it down until she at least finished her laundry. 

There was nothing special about this whore house, other than the fact that it was perhaps the cheapest one out of the whole district, and even perhaps the whole of glam gas land. They were also one of the biggest whore houses in numbers, with multitudes of workers several times larger than others, although the run down and cramped shacks stacked higgly-piggly around the cracked ground doesn’t necessarily translate that. She likes to think it’s part of the design rather than poor planning, the slanted shadows giving the inhabitants of the area small, safe zones to hide, the many decrepit buildings blending into each other just as easily as it’s many inhabitants. It’s a maze just to navigate the winding streets, something it’s people used to their advantage to escape unwanted men.

The feeling subsides and she sees the toddler has hopped off his seat on the floor, and crouch down to fiddle with the wild flowers growing around the front door instead. His stare is unnervingly intense, amber eyes as rare as the unusual focus he had spread across his face as he picked the petals all off the daisy. She remembers the look he gave her when she went to his house once to demand his bitch of a mother return the scarf she stole, even in her anger she couldn’t shake off the feeling that a predator was hunting her the whole time. It was a ridiculous notion, she later summarized in the comforts of her own home. The child was barely old enough to walk, balancing on the cusp of babyhood and toddlerhood as he stumbled around the dusty ground, looking for stimulation. He looked like a typical slum brat, gaunt and gross, the remnants of baby fat clinging to his pale cheeks dissolving faster than expected, but Shira knew, deep down, that the child was very different from all the other children running wild.

It was unlucky she assumes, draping a long night shirt over her clothes line, staring at the fallen water droplets that were easily soaked up by the ground. All of them were. Circumstances and fate lead to their situation, Shira would be the first to admit that some very stupid choices led her to her profession, but even she was still human enough to admit the pity she felt for the brats who were forced into this circumstance, forced to fight for what little food they were given and avoid grasping hands that desired unthinkable things. A disembodied voice calls out, and she sees the Morrow boy rise unsteadily and wobble back in to his house, flowers clasped tightly in his hand. Not even a moment later, she hears angry shouts and broken glass, the toddler emerges, flowers gone and sporting a nice hand print on his cheek. He goes back to the patch of daisies, digging his fingers into the ground and rubbing the dirt on his wounded face, not once does she even hear a sob from him. Though come to think of it, she hasn’t heard the two year old cry in a very long time. She shakes her head, just another thing to add to the list of reasons of what was wrong with the Morrow child.

It was just bad luck little Hisoka was born here. Even worse luck that he was born to a whore who couldn’t even keep herself sober for more than an hour a day. But Shira empathizes with her, their work was demeaning and no one wants to reminded about being a mother at sixteen.

Her laundry done, she picks up the worn bucket and prepares to head into her home. She eyes the boy curled into a tight ball of threadbare shirt and bones, stuffing tiny handfuls of dirt into his mouth, eyes boring holes into hers. His bottom lip is split, mouth slightly agape and dripping with blood as he stares at her, unblinking. She wonders if it’s cruel to hope that he dies soon, for his exotic eyes, pale skin and pretty face will attract all the wrong attention, and she’s sick of seeing broken husks of children everywhere she goes.

He rises to his feet, dirt smudging his hands and mouth. He’s unbelievably small, even for children born here, barely coming up to her mid thigh, all protruding ribs and knobby knees. His expression is unreadable, the harsh late afternoon sun casting shadows across his face, making him look years older than he actually is. His calm look was something she didn’t expect after getting being smacked hard enough to knock whatever baby teeth he had out. Shira swears somewhere deep down her heart twinges, and in a moment of weakness, she purposefully drops a piece of candy on the ground and walks right back to her shack.

She doesn’t see Hisoka until a couple days later, and when she does, he is toddling across the street, smarting a new scar across his neck and still blowing pink bubbles with the bungee gum she gave him

[mulderbabe77]

You’ll Feel Better Soon

Author: mulderbabe77  Summary: Pure fluff. Brennan gets her period on their way home from interviewing a suspect. She feels like crap, Booth helps her feel better. Some cute conversation and caretaking. Nothing but fluff really. Sorry! Length: 2174 words Classification: Fluff, Caretaking, Sickfic Rating: G Spoilers: None really, as long as you’ve seen season 1, this is set around early season 2 sometime 

Has not really been proof read very well, just kind of threw it together as it was running around my head.

 **********************

Dr. Temperance Brennan shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the SUV for the sixth time in just a few short minutes. Something that did not go unnoticed by her partner, Seeley Booth, as he drove. In fact, he was now keeping a mental tally of how many times she squirmed in her seat since they started driving. She had been unusually quiet the last hour or so, as they ate lunch and drove home from questioning a suspect in rural Virginia. They were still a couple hours from home. She shifted in her seat again and Booth’s eyes flitted over to his partner. “You ok, Bones?” “Of course,” she replied, though he could swear he detected a slight grimace on her face and an edge to her voice that he had never heard before. Booth and Brennan had been partnered together now for a little over a year and though they certainly had their moments here and there of getting on each others nerves or disagreeing, this was certainly unusual behavior for her. She wasn’t one to give the silent treatment, usually preferring to speak her mind, quite loudly and quite forcefully. And he couldn’t think of anything she would be angry about, they hadn’t argued and he didn’t think he’d done anything that would upset her.

 She turned to the backseat and pulled her large messenger style bag into her lap and began digging through it.

 “Damn,” she muttered to herself after a few minutes of frantically looking and finally coming up empty-handed. She tossed her bag rather haphazardly into the backseat and leaned her head heavily onto the passenger window, closing her eyes.

 Booth glanced to his partner again, then back to the road. Something was definitely up and his curiosity had been piqued. He stole a few more glances at her - she didn’t look well. He hoped she wasn’t getting sick.

 In the 13 months that they had worked together, he had never seen her sick. She had never taken so much as even one sick day. Not even a sniffle or sneeze, save for this past Christmas when they were quarantined in the lab, and she had surprised him with those two quick sneezes and nearly gave him a heart attack thinking she had valley fever. Other than that she was always healthy as a horse. Always. He suspected she had a very strong immune system.

 “Bones, are you sure you’re ok? I think I know when something is bothering you. What can I do to help?”

She gave him a small smile, appreciating his perceptiveness.

 “I need painkillers,” she sighed.

 “You have a headache?”

 “Something like that.” He wasn’t sure what to think of that response.

 “Want me to pull off at a gas station? You can grab some Tylenol,” he offered.

 “I’m afraid that won’t cut it.”

 “Why? What’s wrong?” He felt the beginnings of panic begin to creep around his heart, worrying that she was about to tell him something horrible was wrong.

 “It’s fine, Booth,” she reassured. “I’m merely experiencing dysmenorrhea,” she said matter-of-factly.

 “Dysmeno- what?”

 “Dysmenorrhea, also known as painful cramping brought on by the monthly shedding of my uterine lining.”

 He still gave her a puzzled look. “Layman’s terms, Bones?”

 “Menstrual cramps.”

 “Oh. Sorry Bones. You going to be ok?”

 She pressed a hand to her abdomen and grimaced as another cramp ripped through her.

 “Yes, although I usually take prescription medication, but I seem to have forgotten it at home today,” she sighed. “The pain can get quite intense and we’re still a long way from home. It’s possible I may vomit if the pain gets bad enough. Please be prepared to stop the car if that happens.”

 Even though she explained everything very matter of factly, Booth still noticed a hint of blush to her cheeks and she looked out her window as she spoke, instead of looking at him, almost as if she was embarrassed. He’d never seen her embarrassed about anything before.

 “Sure Bones. I’m sorry you’re in pain,” he said, reaching his hand out and giving her forearm a gentle yet reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, you know. It’s natural.”

 “Logically I know that. Women have experienced menstruation since the beginning of time, Booth. Though I have no idea how prehistoric women survived without modern day painkillers. Still, it’s not something I usually discuss, especially with the opposite sex,” she looked towards him for a minute before turning back to look out the window.

“I get it. I’m just saying, I’m not going to get all weirded out, ok? You’re a woman, and it’s a natural bodily function. We’ve been partners for a while now so I know you have periods, obviously but I’ve never seen you like this before Bones,” he said, and their eyes met and locked - his shining full of empathy for his hurting partner. He was truly worried about her and this stirred something deep down in her heart. Something she’d never felt for a man before. She shook her head, trying to quiet her thoughts before answering.

“I’m intentionally very discreet. Plus I usually always keep my prescription medication in my bag. It really helps. I must have run out and forgotten to refill it. I don’t know how I could be so careless.”

“We’ve been really busy lately, it’s understandable,” he noted. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Anyway, please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Bones nodded, “Thanks,” and gave him a small smile. “I’m going to try to sleep for a little bit, sometimes that helps.” She rested her head against the window and shut her eyes.

 Booth drove on and Bones did eventually drift off to sleep.

 They were still about an hour away from home when Bones started to lightly moan in her sleep. Her brow was creased and he could tell she was in a lot of pain.

 Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she leaned forward holding her stomach.

 “Booth?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Stop the car, I’m going to be sick,” she held a hand over her mouth.

He was already prepared for what she was about to say.

 “Stopping, just one sec,” he said, pulling off the road quickly, into some gravely dirt. They were on a nearly abandoned country road.

 Brennan jumped from the car the second it came to a stop, stumbling a bit on the gravel and falling to her knees just a few feet from the car as her stomach violently emptied itself onto the ground.

 Booth jumped out of his side of the car and hovered nearby, close, but not too close as to make her feel uncomfortable by invading her personal space.

 Brennan retched again before trying to climb too quickly back to her feet. She swayed a bit and Booth stepped up from behind and grabbed her elbow before she took a tumble.

 “Whoah, take it easy, Bones. Just breathe for a minute.”

He handed her his handkerchief from inside his suit jacket which she gratefully accepted and wiped at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Booth. I’m humiliated,” he heard her voice crack on the last word and then saw the tears begin to fall.

He pulled her into a gentle embrace, “Temperance, it’s fine, you’re human. People throw up.”

“I don’t,” she hiccuped into his shoulder, feeling like a complete fool, not only for throwing up in front of her partner, but now also for crying about it. “I don’t get sick, Booth. And I certainly don’t usually cry about it.”

She pulled away and wiped her nose with the handkerchief, trying to compose herself, smoothing out her suit which after the whole ordeal was looking quite a mess.

“Everyone gets sick now and then, Bones and I would never think any less of you because of that. How are you feeling now?”

“A little bit better, but still in pain. Maybe we can find a gas station for some Advil and a bathroom?”

“Sure thing, Bones,” he said, guiding her by the arm over to the car and opening the door for her.

“Thank you,” she gave him a small smile and climbed into the SUV. Once inside she folded herself up into the seat and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Booth kept his eyes peeled for the closest gas station but they were still in the middle of nowhere, so he knew it might be a while before they found one.

Brennan has curled herself up into a little ball in the seat. He couldn’t help but think how tiny and helpless she looked there, all curled up, face still scrunched up in pain. He would do anything to take that feeling away for her. He pressed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal.

He thought she had fallen back to sleep when her tiny voice floated through the air.

“This used to happen to me in high school. Before my parents disappeared,” she sighed, thinking back.

“Every month when I would get my period it was like hell for me. I would feel awful, be in so much pain crying on the bathroom floor at school. My dad,” she started, and he could hear her struggling to get the words out, fighting back tears as she said his name. “My Dad would come pick me up from school every time it happened. He would bring me home, bring some Advil and a glass of water and tuck me into my bed. He never talked about what was wrong, knowing I was too embarrassed to talk about it. But he would pull the blankets up to my chin,” a tear streaked down her face and she quickly swiped it away, but he saw. “And then he would kiss me on the cheek and say ‘Sleep sweetheart, you’ll feel better soon’ before he left the room,”

“He sounds like a great dad, aside from the whole criminal secret life thing, of course,” Booth noted and Brennan laughed out loud.

“He was,” she smiled. “I’ve never had that feeling since. That feeling of being really cared for…. not until I met you,” she said the last part so quietly he almost thought he imagined it.

“I’ll always be here for you, Bones. I promise.”

“Hey look, a gas station!” she pointed up the road, interrupting their moment rather abruptly.

He filled up the tank while she went inside to use the restroom and grab a bottle of Advil.

It was about an hour later, and the sun had already set when they were pulling up to her apartment. He helped carry her bag inside along with some pieces of scientific equipment she had brought along to collect evidence.

“I think I’m going to lie down, I’m still not feeling great.”

“Come on,” he said pulling her hand towards the bedroom. “I’ll tuck you in.”

She kicked her shoes off and climbed under the covers, not even caring that she was still wearing her dress clothes. Booth disappeared in the bathroom for a minute and returned with a glass of water and two more Advil.

“Here,” he said, placing them on her nightstand, “In case you need them in the night.”

“Thanks Booth,” she smiled sleepily and then let out a yawn.

He pulled the covers up to her chin, leaned down, kissed her on the cheek and said, “Sleep, you’ll feel better soon,” before letting himself out of her apartment.

She fell into a mostly pain free sleep and when she woke in the morning, she felt much better. Ready to face another day with her partner.