#to my buddy who helped out: you fuckin rock

[deliciousmicroplastics]

*barely alive* first night in the new apartment

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Yan light who met you in highschool, the last year

Yan light who becomes your study partner, helping u and ur dumb lil brain

Yan light who starts realizing how cute you were, but never had a crush on u (he did he just never wanted to admit it)

Yan light who now has a crush on you after him trying to convince himself that you're not his type,

Yan light who now helps you with more than studying, whenever you don't have a pencil, he'll give it to you eagerly, whenever you want something from Amazon but your too broke, he'll buy it for you, whenever your too lazy to work on assignments, you call him and he'll let you copy

Yan light who is now your friend rather than study buddie

Yan light who sits with you during lunch, not bothering to hang out with his other popular friends, telling you that he prefers you

Yan light who stares at you during class, thinking of all the things you could do to him before shaking his head, and covering his blushing face

Yan light who convinces his sister that you're his gf, and that's why you keep coming over to his house.

Yan light who now is by your side 24/7, walking you to classes, holding your backpack for you as you ramble about the girl u don't fw, walking you home, and more

Yan light whose house you go to for a study session, but you knew it was just gonna turn out to you rambling about drama as he watched you with heart eyes, hand on your thigh

Yan light who convinces you to stay over, saying "N/n, it's too dark out, just stay here yeah?"

Yan light who you ask "Light, where am I gonna sleep?"

Yan light who smiles, and says "In my bed, where else, sweetheart?" As if it was the most obvious thing in the world

Yan light who cuddles you throughout the night, arms around your waist as he whines when you try to pull away from him

Yan light who now tells you to go to the college he's going to, giving you puppy dog eyes as you refuse

"Sweetheart, come into the college I'm going to, you don't wanna be separated do you?"

"Honey, what do you mean your too dumb? Just copy off me, my love."

Yan light who makes you go to his college, smiling at you when you finally tell him "Fine, I'll go to your college."

Yan light who now barely lets you go to your own house, "Am I not good enough for you, love?" He asks with tears in his eyes like bro I just asked u if I could go home

Yan light who cooks and cleans for you, "Honey, do you want me to make you some pasta for tonight?" He saids all giggly, his sister just gags in disgust bc why is her rat brother acting like a middle school girl in love

Yan light who is literally 3 seconds away from smashing the TV in his room because your busy playing GTA rather than him, he's literally half naked, wanting you to touch him and your playing GTA tryna run from the cops?! How dare you, just watch, he'll get rid of that fucking ga-

"hey wife, can ya bring me my water?" You ask, you gave him a glance making him perk up, knowing that if u called him wife, he'll do anything for u

"Okay! ♡" What was he thinking about again?

Yan light who finally got the death note, and told you "If you fucking even look at someone else other than me, I'll kill them."

"wife, you barely even let me see my own family"

Yan light who Misa finally meets up with

"Light! I'm your classmate, and you dropped this book!" Misa said, showing the book as light makes her follow her to his room. You were inside the room, playing rock paper scissors with ryuk the homie

Oh yeah that lil bitch light showed you the death note and practically said he'll rip anyone's skull if they even bother to look in your direction, genuinely u weren't even shocked bc ur wife was just like that fr fr but anyway now ur homies with ryuk

They both walked into the room, and Misa was quick to glare at you. 'Light is my love, and I am his so why is this homewrecker all up in his bed like that!' was her train of thought, ready to launch at you before seeing Lights dark glare on here

"Don't even fucking think about it, now why are you here?"

They talked and Misa told him if he dated anyone but her, she'll kill them.

"thats...too bad, I'm already y/ns wife"

Yan light who is your wife that kills anyone who gets between you both <333

GUYS LOWKEY IMMA MAKE A YAN DEATH NOTE AND YAN JOJO BIZAREE ADVENTURE STORY ON MY WATTPAD LOLOLO

YAN TOWN, YAN MC DONALDS WORKER, YAN CELEBRITY, AND MORE COMING OUT SOONOJFBYUSDYUHjn

HOPE YALL LIKED THIS ONE I LITERALLY WAS HALF ASLEEP

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 19: In the Garage

Word Count: 732/Rating: G/Pairing: None/CW: Principal Higgins is an ass, anxiety about being accepted, divergent from FoI/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Principal Higgins, Corroded Coffin

Divider credit to @silkholland

November 1984

“On my count.” Eddie slings his guitar over his shoulder and adjusts the strap. He turns to his other bandmates, all of whom nod in acknowledgment. “Two, three—”

“Mr. Munson!”

Eddie looks at the band room door when he hears Principal Higgins bellow out his name. A smirk slowly stretches across his face. “We were actually looking for four.”

Higgins sighs, trying his best to ignore the snarky remark. “Mr. Munson,” he repeats, “I’m going to have to ask you and your buddies to leave.”

“Ooh, no can do, Higgsy-Poo. We’ve got a big gig this weekend,” Eddie says, not making eye contact as he strums a few random chords. “Gotta practice, y’know?”

“That was an order, Mr. Munson; not a suggestion.” Principal Higgins points his forefinger at Eddie. “You have two minutes to pack up your stuff, or you’ve earned yourself another suspension.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes but concedes, flipping off his principal once the older man has his back turned. “Fuckin’ asshole,” he mutters, hoisting the guitar up and over his head and placing it back in its case.

“Now what?” Grant asks.

And isn’t that the million-dollar question.

Eddie’s place is obviously out; the trailer barely holds him and Wayne, let alone three other men and a drum set. Same goes for the tiny apartment Grant shares with his mom. Jeff’s grandma is still convinced that heavy metal is used to summon Satan. Which leaves…

“We can use the garage at my house.” Gareth speaks up from behind his drums. The freshman is the newest member of the band, and also the quietest. “I don’t think my parents will mind.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Y’sure about that, freshie? Doesn’t your mom keep a rosary in her car?”

Gareth shakes his head, curls bouncing. “Nah, that was my grandma’s car. She was just borrowing it while hers was in the shop.”

“I dunno, man.” Grant gnaws on his lower lip. “Your parents look like Ward and June.”

Jeff snorts. “Does that make him Wally? Or the Beav?”

“Shut up!” Eddie launches his guitar pick at Jeff’s head. Grant was right–Gareth’s folks seemed a bit too straightlaced to tolerate Corroded Coffin’s music. But with Higgins now barring them from using the school’s practice room, they’re out of options.

“All right,” he says finally, rubbing his nose with his palm. “We’ll give it a shot. But if your parents call the cops, I’m lighting your hair on fire.”

Gareth nods. “Noted.”

The freshman’s words are insufficient for calming Eddie’s nerves. All he could picture as he drives up to the Emerson house is Gareth’s parents taking one look at his torn jeans and wild hair and dismissing him. Chastising him for being a “bad influence” on their son. Which, chances are, he is. But that’s besides the point. 

The garage door is open; Jeff and Grant are already inside warming up. Gareth waves at Eddie, and the man and woman next to him smile. 

“You must be Eddie,” the man says, sticking out a hand for him to shake. “Mark Emerson. Gareth’s dad. And this is my wife, Christine.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Eddie says warily. “You’re, uh, really okay with us playing here?”

Mark laughs. “You kidding? This is the first time I haven’t had to yell at Gare to clean out the garage.”

“Dad.” Gareth mumbles through gritted teeth, clearly embarrassed. 

“We like all kinds of music,” Christine Emerson says simply. “Metal, rock, country, jazz…” She trails off, cocking her head. “Your last name is ‘Munson,’ right?”

Here we go. A pit forms in Eddie’s stomach. The Munson name has bitten him in the ass once again. What’ll it be this time—his dad’s reputation, or his own?

“Y-Yeah.”

Gareth’s mom grins and turns towards her husband. “He must be Wayne’s nephew! The guy who helped me when I had a flat tire.” 

Relief floods Eddie’s chest. “Sounds like my uncle.”

“Seems like a good guy. Always looking out for people.” Mark smiles. “Gareth told us how you asked him to sit with you at lunch. Looks like the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Dad!”

With a chuckle, Eddie takes his guitar out of its case. “Let’s see if you still like me after the neighbors complain about the noise.” He adjusts the microphone to his mouth. “All right, guys. On my count—two, three, four!”

[rosy6maple6mothman6]

(Last one was Eaten by tumbls so here 2.0 I guess)

HELLO

I have both thoughts and feelings and I wish to share them.

I've fallen and I can't get up from digimon and I wanted to share who I'd like a Bruce Waynes partner digimon

Luxmon

I want him to have a sassy angel child who will not fuckin hesitate to call him out on his bullshit. Or snitch to Alfred.

We'll say this is a night that went poorly and he snapped at dick.

"hey Bruce, buddy pal boyo chum, I Will Not Hesitate,Do You Understand Me."

Walks in on Bruce stitching himself up after being EXPLICITLY TOLD TO STAY HOME AND REST.

Bruce:....

Lux:.....

Bruce: Please don-

"ALFREDO!!!!! BRUCE ISN'T TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF AGAIN!!"

At a league meeting after Bruce pissed lux off.

"WOW BRUCE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU REALLY SAID THAT ABOUT WONDER WOMEN!!!!!!" and proceeded to lie though his teeth to get Bruce in trouble with Diana. It worked.

The batfam and co. And the league absolutely Adore luxmon,bc every time he's around they get a free showing of The Batman,one of the scariest heroes around, getting his shit rocked by a lil angel child.

It's glorious.

He also is very good at actually Helping Bruce Convey his Feelings to his family! He's a master in the language of Bruce and always lets them know that he does in fact love them: he's just shit at showing it.

It helps that he never pressures them to instantly forgive him, always telling them to take their time.

"Hey Dickie. I know Bruce was a cock tonight, and don't worry I'll handle him so expect an apology when ever your ready to hear it! I just wanted to let you know that he love you bud. I promise. Now sleep tight alright?"

Jason and Dick especially appreciated this.

Now initially the champion and ultimate stage gave me a hard time But since this is my second go at this I have them decided ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧!!!

For the champion I have chosen the unfortunately named:

Piddomon

One bc I want him to keep being the angel that looks after Bruce and his family and bc I like him have a holy fire theme. No real reason. I just think he's neat, and angemon is old.

For the ultimate I wanted to keep up the holy warrior thing,but couldn't find one I liked to you get a wizard instead:

Mistymon

Like I said this dude is Technically a wizard not a holy digimon But I don't care bc I feel like he still fits. Love piddomon staff turning into a sword and him getting stronger fire power.

Now the mega.

I knew immediately I wanted a royal knight for Bruce. He's Literally the DARK KNIGHT it would be a waste of he didn't have one, but the problem was Which knight? And I ultimately picked:

Gankoomon

I picked Gankoomon bc I felt he fit lux's personality best. Plain and simple. And bc he's fucking amazing like images Bruce doing some bad parenting while This mother fuckers around.

He dead ass has the power to turn the ground into a table made of the hardest metal in the digital world and then flip it.

That's just epic.

Now imagine someone trying to fuck with Bruce and/or the batfam and co.

There is no surviving it. He WILL curb stomp the joker.

Alfred approves.

And FINALLY we have what form he'd take with Batman. Bc I fully believe he should get something else for Batman vs for Bruce. And what better than an armored evolution:

Gargoylemon

This lil freak is fucking perfect for him. He's intimidating and fully able to swoop in to save an innocent or family and more than strong enough to fucking destroy and enemy who Tries Him. Do it. He dares you.

And he's perfectly used to hold Bruce like a baby.

And he does, quite often in fact. Literally anywhere. Bruce doesn't actually mind it he just wished he'd STOP DOING IT IN FRONT OF PEOPLE HE HAS A REPUTATION DAMNIT!

Anyway

Thanks for reading my ramblings I really enjoyed this

Even if tumbler made me redo it

Please ask me about other charters (Alfred)

Bc id love to keep talking about this and just thinking about it. It's fun

Anyways thank you

Have a good day

Bye

[nerdyvocals]

A continuation of this post, more quotes from me and @look-at-those-niceass-rocks watching Pink Ladies together, this time episodes 4-7 (again shared with permission, and since the cast is in the house, @saveourpinks, please enjoy our unhinged dumbassery):

Principal Nicholson is a fuckin' weenie

(during Sorry to Distract) I am looking respectfully. I am looking SO respectfully. Their husband, distantly: I doubt that Me: *WHEEZE*

(During Carelessly) The true bisexual experience is not knowing which one of them you would rather be making out in the park with. (I am pan but I concur)

(@ Buddy) OH POOR FUCKING BABY, find purpose outside of your socially assigned tasks

Fucking of course his name is Leonard

Them: I would've gone fucking feral for this show in high school. Both of us, in sync: I'm going fucking feral for it now

Me: Anyway, rest in peace Cynthia Zdunowski, you would've loved they/them pronouns Them: *CHOKE*

Wally: I'm kinda hungry Them: Looks like she's kinda thirsty

(About Richie and Jane "needing to talk") That has spiked MY anxiety and I'm not even Jane. I would have been CHASING that little shit down.

(When Vaughn told Lydia to help Cynthia) I want a very sexually charged line reading session between the two of them and if I don't get it I Will Cry-- Levi, I don't like the way you're laughing right now

(Note I couldn't breathe for a Hot Minute, I forgot they somehow hadn't seen any spoilers for this show)

Richie: Jane's my girl, not my boss Them: YOu are wrong, she is both. I've seen the way you look at her I'm not a fuckin' idiot.

Me: Anytime I see Lydia or Cynthia I just embody that one quote- Did you ever watch Boy Meets World? Them: What, no? Me: Hang on, there's a quote from Shawn, I'll find it (Note it took me five minutes to find this clip, 2:00-2:09 if you're curious, but the quote is: Aw to heck with it, marry me! I live in a trailer park and I have no education but my hair does this!)

The entirety of Merely Players consisted of a stream of: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

(@ Mr. Pedo Man) You deserve beige you piece of shit

KEEP EVERY PART OF YOUR BODY AWAY FROM THIS LITERAL CHILD

(After Jane and Richie's fight) Think about the last time a boy gave her his jacket you fucking dipshit, you goddamn weenie.

(Honorable mention: Both of us replying to everything Richie said in that argument with "Yeah, it is about her, it's her life, what's wrong with her wanting an education???")

Me: I love how the most scathing insult you can think of is to call someone a weenie, are you eight? Them: It's fifties appropriate!

Vaughn: You are a revelation! Them: Yeah, she's a revelation to my fucking sexuality

Them: [Husband], they're lesbians! Husband, nowhere near the computer: I know

(Jane got more votes) HEHEHE GET FUCKED

Me: I love how quickly your opinion of this man changed from the first episode, you were ready to simp and now you hate him Them: YEAH BECAUSE i THOUGHT HE WAS NICE I WAS BAMBOOZLED AND I'M MAD ABOUT IT.

Jane and Buddy: *kiss at the end of episode 4* Them: I am going to bite his nose off

Lydia: You swallow your consonants Them: Well you were swallowing her tongue a minute ago, that probably didn't fucking help Me: *choking on drink*

(during Girl's Can't Drive): Mama I'm a Big Girl Now walked so this song could fucking RUN

Them: So when does Hazel get a jacket? Me: I have no idea what you're talking about, shut up

(After me reading them the discrepancies between the amount of Thesbians fics on AO3 to literally anything else) I am addressing this to every single person who writes in this fandom, puh-LEASE seek therapy

Me: *short rant on how I Cannot Resist a Butch in a White Tshirt* Them: I'm just obsessed with [Lydia's] robe, I wanna take it...off. [Husband]: *unintelligible* Them: THE ACTOR IS AN ADULT I CAN FIND THEM ATTRACTIVE

(after I pointed out that Lydia keeps staring out the window at the Frosty Palace like she's waiting for someone) I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

Me: I have a fic for you Them: if it's more Potato, I'm down

Olivia: *slaps Richie* Them: She could wake me up like that, I wouldn't complain

I would be a 1950s housewife for Potato

Them: I am no longer simping for Richie Me: He's having a hard time right now Them: I know this, and I will resume simping later when he's done being stupid

T-Birds: *having a heart-to-heart* Them: *sniff* They're all coming over to my house and I'm making them soup and bread

Richie: I think I'm in love (one tear catches light) Both of us, Supernatural veterans: ~a single man-tear~ *FIVE MINUTES OF WHEEZING LAUGHTER*

You can find part three here!

[angel-inrealtime]

November F1c Prompts Day 28

Day 28 - Sound (Weather)

A/N: This is like. tooth-rottingly sweet and I make no apologies 🤷‍♀️

You lie awake listening to the rain like it’s a metronome on the tin roof, not quite readjusted to the time zone yet. The storm rolled in slowly over Perth and further south, and the petrichor is tinged with eucalyptus, the way it always is here.

Daniel’s arm is thrown over your stomach, one leg hooked over yours because he likes to be close (has even more since you found out). Apparently insomnia is relatively normal, even if you’re exhausted during the day and sick in the mornings.

You think you just can’t turn your mind off, running like an engine to the beat of the rain on the roof. There are so many things to think about; names and dates and announcements and where and who and-

“You’re thinking so loud I can’t hear the rain.” Daniel mumbles sleepily, nosing into your neck. His big hand splays over your (tiny, might still be imaginary) bump, covers most of it easily above your pajama shorts. Seven weeks, as far as you can guess. You've only known for one.

“Sorry.”

He kisses your collarbone. “S’alright. Everything okay?” He still sounds sleepy, barely home for a full day yet.

You nod against his head, drop a kiss into his soft curls. “Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Just can’t turn my brain off.”

“We can make a list tomorrow. Of all the things in there.” He’s almost asleep again already, you’re sure. “You need to sleep, bub.”

You love him so fiercely for knowing it will help, to get it all out of your head, to make it into smaller pieces you can tackle together. It still takes a while longer (rain slowing and his breathing going deep and even) but eventually you drift off.

☀

The thunderstorms in LA are loud and violent, and even though you know it’s coming the crack of thunder makes you jump, hand on your heart.

You wait, ears straining for any sound and withhold a sigh when the monitor crackles, reach forward to pick it up and go to comfort the baby when you hear Daniel’s voice.

“Hey mate, it’s alright. C’mere.” A pause, long enough for you to turn the video on, and then Daniel’s bare back is on the screen, Elio’s little head and already unruly curls peeking over his shoulder. “I know it’s loud and scary when you’re so little, hey? It’s alright, I got you.”

Elio’s body still fits mostly in one of Daniel’s hands, settling easily under his touch and at the sound and vibration of his voice through his chest. “There you go. What have you got there, buddy?”

Chubby baby fingers wrap around the pendant on Daniel’s chest, the silver one with ‘i love you’ stamped on the medallion (it’s got your initials on the back now, your little family). “Ah, I see, you like the shiny things too. Don’t think we need to tell your mum that, she’ll tell me off.”

You laugh to yourself, almost want to tell him he’s busted and you’re watching the whole thing, but it’s making you feel so warm to watch them like this, to hear the running commentary he keeps up as the storm moves overhead. Elio fusses at the thunder and Daniel rocks him gently on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. How about a song, hey? You like my songs. Someone’s got to.” He starts humming and you want to just lie on the floor and listen, soak in the sound of the retreating weather and his voice. “Fuckin’ nailed it.” You hear Daniel breathe as he puts Elio back in his crib, sleeping peacefully now and with half of his fist in his mouth.

You can’t resist, push the voice button on the baby monitor. “Language.”

Daniel jumps about a foot in the air and spins to look at the matching one, sitting on the dresser in the nursery. “Jesus Christ woman. Give me a heart attack.” He grumbles, but he’s smiling wide and bright.

☀

Elio has wide brown eyes and curly brown hair and he looks just like Daniel in miniature (the way it always was in your mind, when you let yourself imagine it).

Soon enough the Perth summer air is punctuated by the sounds of splashing in the pool, Isaac and Isabel swimming in circles while Elio floats under the watchful eye of Nanna and Poppy, and with Daniel treading water next to him.

Michelle looks through the window over the kitchen sink and then bumps you with her hip. “Are you stopping at two?” She teases gently.

“Stopping at one would have been fine.” You mutter, cutting up fruit to take outside (not really meaning it). “I’ve been so sick, this time ‘round.”

The older woman makes a sympathetic noise. “I was the same, I was way worse with Issy than Isaac. Maybe that means you’re having a girl.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “I don’t know if the world is prepared for girl-dad Daniel.”

Michelle stops to think about it for a second, dawning realisation on her face. “Oh god, you’re probably – oh hang on.” She taps sharply on the window. “Hey, no jumping while the baby is in the water, please.” Isaac slips back into the pool, caught and contrite.

You snort. “Busted.”

Michelle shakes her head, folding one arm over her chest. Her eyes drift to Daniel where he’s talking to their parents. “Has he decided yet? About next year?”

You sigh, and then lean against the counter. “This year was…I mean, after all the shit with the team who shall not be named, and the year off, Checo’s announcement was unexpected.” You couldn’t forget it if you tried, the phone call from Christian in the first week of January to say Checo needed to deal with some things at home and would Daniel be interested in the seat?

(staring down the barrel of navigating pregnancy and impending motherhood around 24 race weekends and an unexpected move mostly back to Monaco, so you’d be closer to Europe when the time came)

“I think he would have turned it down, if it had been.” Michelle offers. “He always wanted to be like dad, you know. Around.”

(talking through the guilt and the wanting that competed for space in his head)

“I know. And I know it’s been hard, being away. Feeling like he’s missing stuff.” You look out the window at everyone in the sun, the way the water from the pool slides down the muscles of Daniel’s back in rivulets. “Still, I don’t think he thought this year would happen. He was like…at peace, with being finished in 2022, and then to have more than a chance…” You pick up a grape and pop it into your mouth, shrugging as you chew and swallow. “But I think he should take this year too, while it’s there, even if him and Max keep saying it’s just a glory run. If nothing else so like…he actually gets to finish on his own terms. He deserves that much, at least.”

Something complicated flickers over her face and then Michelle drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back. “You are…” She pulls back with her hands still on your shoulders. “Not everyone would care, about that. About him, like that.”

“Jesus Shell.” You squeeze her arms. “It’s important to him, of course I care.”

“I know, I know. I’m just…I was worried he wasn’t gonna pull his head out of his ass, eventually. And you’d just be the girl he brought home a few Christmases but just never quite got his shit together at the right time, right?”

You pull her into another hug because it looks like she needs it. “I had shit to get together too, y’know? But I’m glad, too. Very, very glad.”

You pick up the fruit platter and wander out to the back deck, laugh at Joe blowing raspberries on Elio’s tummy while you settle next to Daniel, legs dangling in the pool.

He pushes the brim of your sunhat back to tilt your face up towards him, his other hand automatically finding the slight curve of your belly and rubbing with his thumb while he kisses you. “Mm. Strawberries.” He leans in for another kiss, and when he pulls away there’s a smile that’s as bright as the sun on his mouth. “Feeling okay mama?” You reach behind and offer him one of the strawberries from the board. “Never better.”

-☀-

Low effort photo grid? Low effort photo grid. (My pinterest algorithm? in absolute shambles let me tell you)

[ratwife77]

5 Buck Band-Aid

TW verbal abuse (Steve’s dad)

and Steve feeling like he’s to blame for it

just in general be careful reading

word count: 879

ao3 version

“Get out, you piece of shit. Fuckin’ reason your mom..” I couldn’t get his voice to stop replaying in my head. Didn’t even know why the hell I was so upset over something that had happened hundreds of times, the same old crap. Felt like I was being crushed, and I got a pang in my chest. I couldn’t tell if I was actually hurt or if it was my mind. Guessed that at least he wasn’t smackin’ me around that day. Just knew I had to get to Soda’s, and fast. Breaking down in the middle of the street probably wasn’t a good idea; I’d be leaving myself vulnerable. Who knew what kind of assholes would be lurking around, looking for a fight. I told myself I was tough, and I’d fight anybody, but I didn’t want to. Not then, not after all that. I didn’t feel too good, but I wasn’t in the mood to get hurt or somethin’.

“Stupid kid.. just another mouth to feed..” I don’t remember what I did to piss him off, really. I must’ve done something; the beer in his hand just loosened his lips about whatever it was. Walking in the dark, past all the dimly lit streetlights, I couldn’t help but think that all of this happened too much. Most of my buddies had issues with their parents, and theirs were probably worse than mine, so why was I feelin’ sorry for myself? I was absolutely pathetic, I thought, wondering what I’d done to deserve it all.

Sometimes, I wasn’t sure that I didn’t deserve it. Wherever I told Soda about it all, he said I didn’t. “Black cloud, that’s what you are. Always bringing me down, ain’t got nothin’ better to do..” Soda was my best friend, a stand-up guy, but I didn’t trust that he wasn’t just trying to spare my feelings. Could've been lying straight to my face. It’s my fault, I thought, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be treated like that. With that thought, I started feeling nauseous, bringing my baggage to a house that had enough trouble to deal with already. Darry didn’t need another kid to take care of, and Soda didn’t need something else to worry about, either. Pony was probably gonna give them both grey hairs. He wasn’t the worst kid, considerin’ Curly was around, but he stayed out later than he was supposed to, and he pissed me off sometimes. Attached to Soda, he always wanted to come with us, tagging along. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’d protect him if he needed it, and I’d given him advice a couple times.

Kicking a rock, I began weighing my options for where to stay, reminding myself that I didn’t have time to dally. “Don’t even bother coming back. I’m tired of you, ruining our family..” It wasn’t too cold, I could stay out. But then again, Johnny was probably at the lot, and I didn’t want to run into him, or anyone. Two-Bit may’ve even been messing around, still, probably drunk off his ass. Where else..? As I weighed my options, I could only come up with one. Even though I hadn’t wanted to bother anyone, I felt a genuine love whenever I went to the Curtises, and I didn’t want to turn that down. It was a love I didn’t deserve, but a love I wanted. I was like a starving man for it, needing it in my bones, yearning. 

“Steve.. you deserve better.” Before I even got to the door, Soda was there like always. His words were there when I needed them, making my heavy heart a little bit lighter. I hesitantly turned the knob and walked inside. Suddenly, I realized that I’d been clenching my fists, trying to hold it together. I loosened my grip and looked around. They were all asleep, and some of their stuff was strewn around. Darry’s reading glasses sat on his newspaper, and Pony’s book was set on the table. Soda had left his DX shirt hung on a chair. Looking at it all left me feeling empty. Their things had life in them, a certain comfort that I couldn’t explain if I tried. My house didn’t have that. “We’re here for you. There’s a reason we don’t lock our door.” Those words were hard to believe, but they always ended up ringin’ true when I crashed at the house.

I wiped a tear away, and I didn’t let any more come, forcing them back. I knew my dad’s shit wouldn’t stop, at least not then. All I could do was prepare for the five buck band-aid I knew was coming, and try to take comfort in the gang. Hearing soft but sturdy footsteps. There was only one person who it’d be. He usually woke up pretty quick, ‘cause he had to help Pony pretty often, with all the nightmares. “Oh. Steve.. Again..?” Saying that, all gentle-like, set me off. I don’t know why, but another tear rolled down my cheek, and before I could, Soda brushed it off, all calm. I think he was the calmest when he had to be strong for other people. Carefully, he pulled me into a hug, and I hugged him like my life depended on it.

LMK if there are any, ANY problems at all with this! If it’s out of character, or something else, letting me know only improves my writing!

[kiridarling]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

[yourlocalbassistgroupie]

Get The Fuck Out // Sebastian Bach

AN: This post does not contain smut and is more fluff. This post was actually a request from a friend of mine who love Sebastian 😊(personally, I’m more of a Rachel and Scotti gal)

Warning: cursing, injury; read with caution

Enjoy 😁

••••••••••

According to my friend who was here with me, I was going to have so much fun.

It was the Slave to The Grind tour, and my friend Brenna and I had been rocking out to the whole album in her shitty volvo.

Before I knew it, we were at the venue. There were so many people, it was quite overwhelming, but I washed down the anxiety with excitement. I'm gonna see Scotti! I'm gonna see Rachel! I'm gonna see- Sebastian. I stop in my tracks. Brenna, not paying attention, walks right into me.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I've never been face to face to someone like them before," I say. "What if I pass out?"

"Y/n! That's not gonna happen," Brenna says, laughing.

We make our way to our spots. We had general admission tickets so were kind of close, but a few yards away from the barricade.

As the lights dimmed, I could feel my stomach churn.

The stage is black.

We hear drums start up, followed by a bassline and guitar. Suddenly, the lights turned on and we could see all the band members- all except one.

"Oh my god it's Rachel!" Brenna screams. She was a bigger fan of him than anyone else I'd ever seen.

Out of nowhere, we see Baz run out onto stage. Dressed in black leather pants and dark and a sheer, loose, tank top that wasn't doing a great job of covering him up- not that I minded that, though.

Brenna and I were screaming like a bunch of insane little girls, dancing around.

They sing their songs from the new album, as well as their hits, and I sang along to each one.

My god, was Baz gorgeous, even when his hair was tangled from whipping it in every direction, or when he was dripping with sweat. Brenna seemed too focused on Rachel, making eyes at him, and him smiling back. After playing "The Threat", Baz walks around the stage, going on about how their drive here, and how they were so pumped to be here. I feel someone trying to push past me.

"Hey can you move? I can't fuckin see!" says some middle-aged man from behind me. He reeked of alcohol and could barely stand.

"Dude, it's a concert- and her first one. Can you cut her some slack?" Brenna says to the guy.

"You don't have to be a fucking bitch!" he yells. This gets the attention of Scotti. He looks over to us- Baz, on the other stage is still talking. I hold Brenna's arm, nervously.

"Sir, I-" I begin.

The guy starts cursing and yelling causing a scene.

Rachel noticed too, and signal Baz over.

"Sir, please calm down," Brenna says.

"Shut the fuck up!" he yells. He takes his cup of beer and splashes it all over Brenna.

"Hey! Not cool!" I shout.

"You want some too, bitch?" he shuffle over to me, pushing me, knocking me to the ground.

"Hey!" I hear Baz yell.

I look up and see Baz and Scotti jump off the stage and push the push away the guy.

"Get the fuck outta here!" Sebastian shouts at the guy. Scotti and him hold the guy off until a security guard takes him away.

I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay?" I look up to see Sebastian. WHAT THE FUCK???

I stand up confidently as if nothing happened.

"I'm fine," I say.

"You sure? You're bleeding," he says. I look down at my arm and see a long scrape, with blood slowly seeping from it. Sebastian takes a bandanna that was tied onto his belt and presses it carefully on my arm, setting my hand on it. I wince, but look into his eyes.

"Hold your hand like that, alright? My buddy's gonna take you and your friend backstage, okay?" he says.

WHAT? BACKSTAGE?

Brenna grabs my hand and we follow the usher. Someone from the first aid tent sits me down in a chair and helps me clean my arm.

Brenna and I watch the rest of the show from backstage and she can't help herself- she's dancing and jumping around while I'm getting a bandage wrapped around my arm.

Baz thanks the crowd for coming and the stage goes dark again.

A stagehand gives the band members waters as the come backstage.

Baz almost walks past us until he sees me in the chair.

"Hey, how's your arm?" he asks.

"Better. I appreciate it," I say.

"That guy was an asshole. Don't mention it," he says, smiles.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Y/n," I reply.

"Well, y/n, our band and I was just gonna get to our hotel. Did you guys wanna come with?"  he asks us.

Brenna looks at me with a wild look in her eyes.

"We'd love to!" she blurts out. We make our way to the tour bus and I sit next to Baz and Brenna somehow gets next to Rachel.

"I'm a huge fan. Bass players deserve so much more credit," Brenna says to him.

"Awe thank you," he replies. "What are you doing later?" he asks her.

"You," she says, then gasps. "I mean hanging out with you guys," she says, correcting herself.

Rachel's face turns red and he scratches his head nervously.

I sit next to Baz and he holds my arm, making sure the bandages are secure.

"It's fine, really," I say to him.

He carefully sets my hand back down in my lap.

It's so hard not to check him out. Christ, he's a pretty blond with long, flowing hair, and had an insane voice and oh my god his tattoos-

"This one hurt getting done," he said, noticing me staring at his Youth Gone Wild tattoo.

He stretches his arm out for me to see it. I trace the letter with my finger and look up at him.

"I'd be so nervous to get a tattoo," I say. He smiles.

As the bus ride drags on, we sit quietly, exchanging small talk every now and then. I notice myself becoming tired and dozing off when I get a poke of the shoulder.

"We're at the hotel," Baz whispers.

Scotti and Snake are making fun of Rachel and Brenna who were out cold, her head resting on his shoulder.

The lights in the bus turn on and they wake up, and look at each other awkwardly as if nothing happened.

The band, Brenna and I get into the hotel and check in. Brenna pulls me aside.

"Rach wants to get a separate room with me!" She whispers excitedly.

"Dude! Yesss get it!" I say.

The band members and Brenna get into their rooms and I find mine. I change out of my clothes and decide to shower and change into sweats and a t shirt.

I get a knock on my door.

I open it, and it's Baz, also with damp hair and comfy clothes on.

"Hey, y/n, headbanger's ball is on... I was wondering if you'd wanna watch with me?" He asks, awkwardly.

Wow, for someone with so much stage confidence, he was a little dorky.

"Sure!" I say, letting him in.

We sit down on the bed and he turns on the tv.

He grabs a blanket from the hotel room closet and wraps it around me sweetly.

The room was still pretty cold from the ac, and I was shivering a bit.

"You cold?" He asks.

"Just a little," I say.

He takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around me, and I rest my head on his chest, hearing the soft beat of his heart.

Was this really happening right now?

An interview with Mötley Crüe comes on and Vince and Nikki are on the tv.

"Do you know them?" I ask. He nods.

"Vince is a cool dude, we've hung out a couple times. Nikki and Tommy are pretty crazy, and Mick's like a bit of a dad," he says, slightly laughing.

"That band gets around I bet," I say, eyes wide, awkwardly. Sebastian laughs.

"You have no idea. Their groupies are insane," he says.

"I'll be your crazy groupie," I tell him, laughing. He lets out a chuckle.

"I'd be okay with that," he says. I look up at him, into his eyes. God, was he beautiful.

He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, look back into my eyes.

He leans in, as do I, kissing his soft lips.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Was this even real?

He kisses back and eventually pulls away.

"You're so beautiful, y/n," he says, looking at me, intently.

After watching the rest of the show, we decide we should probably get some sleep. I fall asleep in Baz's arms, listening to his heartbeat yet again.

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[itsbenedict]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere characters as dril tweets

Utsushikome of Fusai: if you're ever wondering if im some other guy, the answer is yes, im him, unless it's bad to be him, then im not him, im a different person.

Ran Hoa-Trinh: im the only guy who knows how to call out the bull shit of society the smart way. and against all odds i do it for free

Kamrusepa of Tuon: THERAPIST your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME I agree

Seth of Ikkuret: im probably the most difficult person alive to trick into showing mny penis to you. it absolutely almost never happens

Ptolema of Rheeds: THIngs other people like: being bastards, being Uniformly tasteless THINGS I LIKE: Being reasonably kind, and trying to help, when i can

Bardiya of Tuon: ill kick any ones ass who is a "BOOMER"

Lilith of Eshkalon: i have absolutely zero interest in friendship, i have absolutely zero interest in jokes, i am simply here to collect data and earn respect

Theodoros of Melanthos: for every inch my penis shrinks due to anxiety, the trolls owe me $100,000 , i am saying it now.

Ezekiel of Ilaadbat: turning a big dial taht says "Racism" on it and constantly looking back at the audience for approval like a contestant on the price is right

Jia Fang: *all horrors begotten by the desire of man flash before eyes* woha! this is awkward *the cries of millions suffering echo* Damn That’s Weird

Ophelia of the Glass Fields: please bring your rats to the new castle flea market so I may bless/heal them. ill be sitting in a lawn chair wearing a stolen priest outfit

The Concept of Entropy: imagine how fucked uop it would be to have a brain and be able to form thoughts

Mehit of Eshkalon: as a Parent.. the thought of somebody attacking my sons with some sort of weapon, is just not good to me

Neferuaten of Amat: every woman ivr ever spoken to would describe our correspondence as “Graceful”

Hamilcar of Kane: what donest kill me makes me stronger ((gains infinite strength from being not killed by infinite things))

Durvasa of Wayal: if some one said some shit to me like "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" i would not be able to contain my rage. i would completely lose my shit.

Zeno of Apocryion: oh youve been to therapy? Dumb. yeah you havent even scratched the surface of my Level. i bet none of you even know your own brain weight

Linos of Melanthos: there is too much of Lies...

Amtu-Hedda-Anna: hello. what is your online user handle please? ok. ok thanks. blocked

Vijana of Yamune: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Sacnicte Ic'thal: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

Yantho Ic'nal: before you shit on me, lnow this. i have a black belt in shut the fuck up. and - let me finish - i have a college degree in shut the fuck up

Whoever The Fuck Designed The Security Golems: committing unforgivable crimes against nautre in my laboratory ,trying to create the next genetically discombobulated meme animal

Balthazar of Isan: i rip off my groundhog handler disguise on stage. "surprise bitchs. groundhog day is fake." i drop kick the fuckin groundhog back to the zoo

█████: i guess i will change my name to "Mr Go Fuck Myself " huh?? Since all you sons of bitchs obviously think it would be good, if i did that

Sekhmet: looking at the data and simply laughing

Eshmun: if you say the words "Room temperature" to me ill flip my lid. room temp varies depending on the room. youre talking shit out of your mouth.

[dual-ies]

hi, this is @frindoka ‘s Squid Blog! ☝️ here’s Some of my guys (all agents, i have some other ones too), i made this primarily to just post about my ocs for fun lol. short blurbs are under the cut !

my splatoon oc universe is some sort of convoluted weird splat3 au, but hey, i’ll make it make sense one day. contains splatoon 3 spoilers as well

new/neo agent 3 (ari): they/them

very airheaded and spaces out a lot.

named their lil buddy “fortnite” because they thought it would be cool (they found a super beat up copy buried somewhere and thought of it as ancient treasure or something. lol)

kind of stumbled into the sewer on accident and was immediately appointed to agent despite having no fucking clue what’s going on. is fine with it.

sibling of adonis- still reeling from the fact their sibling has been working for the new squidbeak splatoon for a While before they joined. explains the random disappearances.

autistic! doesn’t pick up on most social cues, and has a resting blank face. very friendly though!

fortnite is their best friend if you say anything mean about fortnite they WILL cry and then bite you and then cry again. in that order

chin scar from banging their chin on the edge of a table when they were younger. very embarrassed by this

internet friends with 4/caiman since caiman lives in THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE? and ari in splatsville. they visit each other sometimes though.

agent 3 (anchor): they/them

Also autistic (can u tell i’m projecting.), stone-faced and threatening looking, actually kind of a dork and a loser and is pretty nice. doesn’t speak to most people, if they have to it’s in whispers and short sentences. not cause they’re mean at all though

definitely weird and strange and off putting. eats rocks for fun, will shovel the snow from alterna in their mouth if they were dared to do it.

that sanitization scar is still there uh oh

fond of fortnite. Fortnite is Not Fond of them. also ari thinks they have cooties from ripley/8. anchor doesn’t have cooties (promise)

lots of scars that they’ll insist are from cool battles but they literally just. trip and fall a lot. a few Are from fights but most of them.. are from clumsiness.

agent 24 …..

agent 8 (ripley): he/she

got her nose scar during the fight with 3 while they were sanitized. 3 feels real bad about it still

generally very kind and caring and has a smooth voice, welcoming yet weary around strangers- takes a bit for him to warm up but he’s like the nicest person you will ever meet otherwise

likes nudibranchs. fond of those little beasts!!!

really fuckin good whenever she decides to participate in turf war it’s Kind Of Scary. primarily uses snipers or sloshers.

has visited splatsville a few times. seen fortnite once. she loves him he is her pal!!! her buddy!!!!!!! fortnite is indifferent.

agent 4 (caiman): he/she/they

transed gender. (tbh all of them are but like. most explicitly obvious) named themselves after caimans cause they bite people too.

has gotten into a LOT of fights and has tripped and fallen a LOT, resulting in near constant bruises and scrapes and a few scars. anchor tries to get them to be more careful despite being on the same level of clumsiness…

loud and doesn’t shut up but like. real funny, cracks a lot of jokes but sometimes doesn’t understand the right time to make them.

loves fortnite. fortnite is fond of him. they’re pals!

caiman knows about ari’s agent work and vice versa (he let it slip on accident over a text and ari was horrified cause they work there too)

onto the. Not “Canon” Agents who r just originalll ocs

agent 6 (amaranth): she/he

friendly! excitable! very overwhelmingly positive person, sunshine pours out of him like a faucet and leaks into others hearts… even adonis’

had no friends before the squidbeak splatoon- her overly excitable behavior annoyed a lot of people she was around (those people sucked anyways help) , and they basically all abandoned her. gives her lots of Issues, but she’s healing.

relatively new recruit? has been there for a year ish at most. lives with adonis and ari & is in the Love w adonis lol (they’re dating!)

good at baking.

fortnite kind of scares him

agent 5 (adonis): they/it

was once kinda like amaranth (loud n excitable) before trauma hit them like a truck and now they’re super closed off and bitter. they learn how to be more open with amaranth and ari’s help and care.

former friends with agent X (tehyre divorced. squid divorced.) before X turned out to be working with Bad Guys (tm) - adonis ends up shooting/splatting them when their backs turned and feels a LOT of guilt over it

pays the rent for its apartment but sometimes ari and amaranth chip in

fun fact me making ari and adonis look similar was completely accidental, but i made them siblings to explain their similar appearances lol…

secretly really likes fortnite. it sneaks out salmon eggs from its side job @ grizzco to feed to him.

agent x (nobody knows! not even me!): they/them

mad scientist archetype.

works (worked) with mr grizz to create the fuzzy ooze after they respawned in a … completely random place. (with both their communicator + little respawn machine thing all broken) ended up a test subject for grizz to see if the fuzzy ooze worked before he scattered it about, and now the ooze is slowly overtaking their entire body.

generally a nuisance but not dangerous unless they want to be. kind of like deep cut but they show up way more frequently in random areas to bother adonis specifically.

what’s a fortnite?

generally feels a lot of resentment towards adonis but also mr grizz cause of the fuzzy ooze thing, but he’s their boss + he promised to reverse the effects… Eventually. Maybe.

they uh. they fcuking die btw like since their respawn thing is all broken (basically inklings/octolings have respawn machine things? attached to clothing/backpacks/whatever in order to respawn safely, specifically during turf wars, so they don’t end up just. Dying… but since X’s is broken and barely got them to respawn randomly in the first place, they die as soon as they get pushed into the water in alterna. rip bozo)

[busycryin]

Disinhibition

Pairing: Benjamin ‘Benny’ Miller x Reader 

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings: Injury, bad words, mentions of sex. 

Summary: Benny gets injured and loses his filter.  (Not that he had much of one to begin with)

Note: This is self indulgent fluff. I regret nothing. I am in love with all of these men. 

It was never your idea of a fun Friday night - watching Benny get the ever living shit beaten out of him. 

Until six months ago you’d never have even set foot in an event such as this, but here you were, beer in hand watching the brother of your best friend take an uppercut to the face in a fight you think he was winning. 

To you Benny was the gentle giant; a sweet guy who topped up the window wiper fluid in your car when it got low or the guy that gave you the last hot dog at the barbeque because he knew you secretly hated Frankie’s burgers. In this ring he was one hundred percent the warrior you’d heard stories of as a mask of icy calculation had descended across his features. 

The outside world was shut out; it was just him and his opponent in the ring.

His opponent just so happened to be a gorilla - there was no other way to describe the mans body as his arms were thick chords of muscles covering bone - somehow managing to make Benny look lithe. 

You were still new to this but you weren’t quite sure how he was even in the same weight class.

Christ, this was bad for your blood pressure.

You couldn’t help the butterflies fluttering around your stomach despite the fact that for every hit Benny took he landed two. The two were locked into a hold on the ground, you didn’t quite understand what was happening, but Ben had somehow got the upper hand. It was as he held the man down that the bell finally rang and you released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding; the round was over. 

Santiago, another friend of Will’s who was standing beside you and Frankie, blew out a heavy breath. 

“This is a fuckin’ close one.”

“Guys fuckin’ huge.” Frankie echoed your thoughts whilst taking a sip of his beer. 

Will was bent over Benny talking into his ear as the younger of the duo desperately chugged his water bottle. He looked absolutely exhausted, your heart was beating madly in your chest; you decided to remain silent. 

All too soon the break was over and the mouth guard was back in place protecting those pearly whites that were often directed at you in a half-smirk/half-grin concoction that always signalled he was up to no good. 

“Don’t worry, Guapa! Ben’s got this, he’s one tough sonovabitch.” Frankie patted your back reassuringly. Somehow you weren’t convinced but you smiled at both of the men, nodding enthusiastically and draining your half full beverage. 

You knelt to place your cup under your seat, rising finally as the bell rang, signalling the beginning of a new round of torture. Your hands interlocked nervously in front of your mouth flinching at every hit the other man landed on Benny. 

You felt Santiago pat your shoulder and shoot you a smile whilst he cheered for the younger Miller. “He’s got this, Y/N.” He spoke, repeating Frankie’s earlier reassurances.

Benny did not have this. 

As was made evidently clear a couple of minutes later when the two were grappling on the ground, his opponent had got the upper hand and was above him trying to get him to submit. But Benny being Benny wouldn’t give in, despite being banged to rights. 193 pounds didn’t seem so heavy right now as his opponent twisted his arm to the ground, his thick legs wrapped around Ben’s torso. 

Your heart dropped as you could’ve swore you heard the crack of bone over the crowd. Finally Benny tapped. 

The fight was over, he’d lost. 

Santiago had thrown his hat off raking his fingers through his hair in disappointment “Mierda! I thought he had it!”

“That guy was fucking massive, I hope he’s okay.” You mumbled when you realised Ben was still sitting on the padded ground. 

“Let’s go see, eh?” Frank gestured towards the ring where a medic had now entered, tailed closely by Will. You had to stop yourself from racing to his side as sat injured in the ring.

You see, you and Benny had a complicated relationship.

Well it wasn’t that difficult, simply put Ben was a bit of a slut, now you didn’t judge him. Live and let live, you say, but casual sex just wasn’t your thing. Especially not with the brother of your best friend. You’d come to rely on your easy friendship with the older Miller brother so you avoided your relationship with Ben going beyond flirting - your friendship wasn’t something you wanted to fuck with on a whim. 

So, a strange friendship in limbo was where you and Benjamin Miller firmly remained. 

Benny was pulled up into standing, his face was pale as the MMA medic inspected his arm. The man shook his head at Will as they walked, both supporting the injured man. 

“-dislocated, he’s gonna have to go to the ER.” The three of you caught the end of the conversation as you followed the trio. 

“He okay?” Frankie questioned first “Going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, the idiot pushed himself too far. Popped his shoulder out of the socket instead of submitting.”

“Shit, Ben! Are you okay?” You asked, rushing to his side.

“I’m fine Y/N.” He grunted ever the hard headed soldier, his face was laced with pain even as he tried to be impassive in his agony. 

You backed off at his clear dismissal, not wanting to push him whilst he was in such pain.

“We’ll meet you there, yeah?” Santiago questioned.

In the end, you and ‘Pope’ sat in the hospital chairs for an hour or two waiting. Frankie had waited for an hour before he had to get back to his family, the two of you had insisted he get back. It wasn’t fair on Mama Morales to have to look after the baby on her own. 

Santiago was the friend of Will’s you knew the least. He was always kind but he simply was never around. He came and went as he pleased much like an outdoor cat, but in the short time you’d been around him you knew he was a nice guy. Two, going on three hours alone talking about nonsense had pretty much cemented that as you now sat in the waiting room playing go fish, waiting desperately to hear some news about your - What exactly was Benny to you?

Your crush? No. You weren’t in Kindergarten.

Your friend? No. Not enough.

The guy you had incredibly strong feelings for - the kind that made that tingle in your stomach when he laughed at your jokes but you can’t tell him because he’s a man whore who can’t commit to one woman? No. Abit long, not to mention a complete overshare. 

Your person.

You were waiting desperately to hear some news about your person when finally Will rounded the corner. You stood before you realised what you were doing.

“He okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Asking about you Y/N, come and see him?”

“Of course.” You reply picking up your purse. 

Both you and Santi follow Will through the winding hospital halls. You hear Benjamin before you see him.

“I wanna rock and roll all night and party everyday! ” His usually melodious voice is hoarse and slurred, he sounded somewhat drunk as he butchered the rock song from his favourite band.

“I love you too, man.” Will says with a small smile on his face as he sits on one of the chairs beside the bed. 

“He’s had some anesthesia. He’s pretty high right now, so brace yourselves.” He’s sitting up in the bed arm wrapped in a sling, staring up at the ceiling as he sings (shouts) when you round the corner.

“Will, you’re back!” He lights up as he sees his brother “I love you.”

However Will is forgotten instantly as soon as Benny catches sight of you. “Will! This is her, Christ, its the angel I fuckin’ told you about!”

“Calm down, Ben.” Will still has the smile on his face but he tilts his head to the other patient behind the curtain being subjected to his younger brother's lack of an indoor voice.

“How are you doing, Brother?” Santi questions, sitting on the chair to the other side of him. 

He looks at Santiago. “Pope! Have you seen her? She’s so gorgeous, man. She’s here.”

You chuckle as you walk to stand beside him on the bed. He instantly takes your hand in his good one and pats the bed beside him. You can’t help but acquiesce despite the cloudy look in his eyes. It’s like the lights are all on but nobody's really home.

You hop up, facing him sideways on. You’re not about to cuddle the man in front of Will and Santiago, no matter how desperately you’d like to.

“How you feeling, Soldier?”

“Better now you’re here, Angel.” You can’t help the snort that comes out at his words. 

“I’m glad I can help.”

“You could help me in another way y’know Y/N.” He smirks in a way that is so completely Benny you almost forget he’s delirious. 

“I think you might regret this when you have a filter, lovely.”

“You hear that Will?” Benny’s whisper isn’t quite as stealthy as he believes as his voice is barely quieter than a shout. “She fuckin’ called me lovely, I’m fuckin in there man!”

“...No way...” Will replies simultaneously trying and failing to keep a straight face.  “Y’know Ben you might want to calm down, you might be making Y/N uncomfortable.”

“Y/N… Oh god Y/N. She's gorgeous man, inside and out and her tits -Man her tits are-” He makes a growling noise. 

“Ben!” Will admonishes whilst Santiago is looking on, his hand covering his mouth desperately trying to contain his chortles. “I think you should get some rest buddy.”

“I’ma do that. I’ma put my arms down, my head back and get some rest.” Benny tells his brother resolutely all whilst nodding his head and in his defense he does just that… for a grand total of ten seconds before his blue eyes reopen and fix on you. 

“Y/N?” Benny ‘whispers’ whilst tugging on your hand that is still firmly locked with his good one. 

“Mmh?”

“I think we should have a baby.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. We can have like 6 babies and I’ma’ fuck you so good every single night for the rest of our lives and we can have our own barbecues and I’ll cook you up the hamburgers special.” You can’t help it as your eyes widen exposing the whites in their entirety. You’re trapped somewhere between laughing and mortification as you know there’s no way in hell Will and Santi didn’t hear that.

“I’m not a baby machine dude, six kids is alot for my body to handle.”

“You’ll think about it?” He asks his eyes heavy as they lock on yours.

“Moron,” You chuckle whilst raising the hand which is not currently his prisoner and push the strand of dirty blonde hair from his eyes “You get some rest and I’ll give you all the babies you can handle, big guy.” 

“If I go to sleep am I going to die?”

“No, Ben. You won’t die.” You can’t help a final giggle at his expense, apparently Benjamin Miller without a filter is quite the character. Finally he closed his eyes, his strong much larger hand still wrapped around your own as he drifted off.

A few moments passed and nobody seemed to know what to say. Every suspicion they’d had, had been confirmed. You hoped to god they weren’t going to tease him about it.

“Don’t make fun of him too badly when he wakes up, fellas.” You mumble awkwardly, your eyes not leaving his face. 

“That’s my line.” Will pipes up from his seat when you finally meet his eyes. “My brothers a stubborn guy, he’ll see this as a screwing things up with you Y/N/N.”

“He never said anything. The guy’s impossible to read.” 

“Nah, you’re just too close to it, is all.” Will supplied - ever the guiding light in your world recently.

“Well. We’ll see, won't we?” The guys start discussing the fight, about where Ben went wrong - something you didn’t really want to think about for a long time - or in the very least until his shoulder was healed. 

Finally during the lull of conversation as they’re both checking their phones you go to ask Will when they’re releasing the giant moron when Santiago finally speaks up. “So, Y/N. You and Ben mind naming one of the kids after me? I figure with 6 of em’ you can spare at least one for the namesake.”

Tag List:

All - @benakenalove

[bi-demon-ium]

hey do you wanna rant about mr benedict/milligan right now? to forget about that stupid porn bot and also because we all wanna see the Rant. like what is your favorite part about them, what made you start shipping it, etc 👀

Oh You Asked For It Buddy! You Asked For This! You! Asked! For This!

okay i mean like first of all. there's just something so compelling to me about how it begins like. they both meet at a pretty low point in their lives--although admittedly that's speculation on my part for mr benedict's side of things, but it makes sense (although it does assume milligan was the first he met, but to be fair i think it would still apply albeit to a lesser degree if he were the second, but i digress)--where they're alone, and they have this crazy story that no one believes, and it's just them against the world, you know?

and they meet and they have every fuckin reason not to trust each other. like, milligan is, to someone who doesnt know him, an intimidating man. and nicholas is in a fairly vulnerable position already, it wouldn't be hard to take advantage of his narcolepsy if you knew about it, and honestly, hypothetically, if milligan wanted to, he wouldn't even need to. nicholas isn't exactly the most physical guy and milligan is. large (affectionate) . you know? he could snap him like a twig. on the other hand, mr. benedict has like. money, a house, and he is in a position where he could easily help or hurt milligan, and even in helping him, if he wanted, could take advantage. obviously, just as milligan would never hurt an innocent person, nicholas would never do that. but the possibility is there.

so like both of them are, albeit in different ways, in a vulnerable position with the other. both of them have been through a lot and probably feel like there's no one around them they can trust. both of them have already been hurt and disregarded as "crazy". they have every! every reason not to trust each other! either of them could hurt the other so easily, either of them has every reason to be afraid, to not trust, and yet!!!!! and yet they do!!!!

they choose to trust each other anyway. they choose to work together and it PAYS OFF!!! IT WAS THE RIGHT CHOICE!!! bc they ARE both trustworthy people!! im biting the walls.

and like just imagine how that must have evolved, going from strangers living in the same house, just trying to help each other out of just. compassion. faith. to getting to know each other--what mistakes they might have made, what bumps on the road to becoming a team, a well-oiled machine--and becoming closer, eventually becoming friends. and that trust--fragile, at first, built on faith and hope alone--becoming rock solid, formed of friendship and truly knowing the other. and like, supporting each other, whether it's milligan's memories and how he wonders what kind of person he might have been, or mr. benedict's secrets and his own low self-esteem, being there for each other (when and if) and like. BITING THE WALLS I AM BITING THE WALLS

i just love the idea of like. how they got to know each other, develop that trust into something unbreakable, until they're at even just where we see them in the show, where they clearly trust one another implicitly and work smoothly together and like support each other at every turn and clearly know each other so well like AAAA

and the more domestic things, too, like how it's clearly just something they do when nicholas is reading ivanhoe out loud to them by the fire? like they just do that. that's a thing. in canon. things like that, and like cooking together, teasing each other--like number two's fruit leather being really really good (except the bark kind do not eat that kind), you know, things like that. and how casually they know how to help with his narcolepsy, but don't tiptoe around it, how they try to find things milligan enjoys even if he can't remember, whether it's food or hobbies, how nicholas keeps an epi-pen just in case he's allergic to something and they don't know. practicing first aid or morse code or maybe hand signals they all know just in case. and like they all work pretty well together as a team, in a way that speaks to me of like, experience and practice, even if rhonda is clearly the newest and has friction with number two they still all work together well and seem completely unfazed by bribery, forgery, breaking and entering, etc., so like. i feel like they've had to have done other things, likely in order to get information on the sender or evade him, so like. also that! missions, or research together, working together. you know? and like specifically with mr. benedict and milligan, god imagine that when they were alone. mr. benedict couldn't exactly do fieldwork very safely--or, he could, but with limits--but he doesn't love the idea of sending milligan in alone, either, no matter how capable he proves to be. but what other choice do they have? so like, times after that, whether it's mr. benedict helping him with first aid after a particularly close call, and the quiet intimacy of that (and later, when there's more of them, number two fussing and rhonda bustling about to get the first aid kit, it's not quite the same but it's still so good--but for now, they're alone, and it's just careful hands trying not to shake as they help clean a wound), or researching together, alone, quietly exchanging notes and ideas, and sometimes the conversation drifts to other things as they get to know each other...

like i think a lot about what firsts they might have had. the first time either saw the other had a nightmare, how that changed their perception of the other. how they might start developing little routines for it, too, hot cocoa or not pushing to talk but just reading together or sitting together or a conversation about anything else. the first time they hugged--why? what happened? in what context? and like, that'd be milligan's first hug ever, in his memory, and likely the first nicholas has had in some time, and what's that like? the first time milligan catches him when he falls asleep, how he feels about that, how milligan feels about that, and when was the last time that happened? how does it feel when one day nicholas realizes that it's so normal to him now he almost expects it, he isn't achy and bruised all the time, and that he's used to it? how does it feel when milligan realizes one day he hasn't felt that shaky desperate fear he had those first few weeks or months when he was alone in a long time? that he genuinely feels safe? that this house has become a home, one that nicholas is part of? what about when they both realize that when they have a nightmare it's almost automatic to see if the other is awake, to actually seek comfort, even passively? to know they can get comfort? what about their first serious conversation with each other, beyond milligan's first explanation of his story and nicholas's in turn--confiding in the other and somehow they seem to know what to say, realizing they trust the other to enough to share?

and of course the things they don't share, like nicholas's brother, or things they just don't talk about, don't quite acknowledge. not out of lack of trust but because it's too painful and the other knows not to push. and the things that don't quite click just right--'mr benedict' and 'sir' most of the time, especially during the day and during the work, because he feels indebted even though he has no fear nicholas would ever use that against him. nicholas's own issues with low self esteem, guilt that he's secretly a bad person, that he might be using milligan, that he's never told him the truth about his supposed 'true nature'. how it's not quite perfect, but they're still so close? you know?

(it makes me want to reach out and adjust it just a little, so the puzzle pieces click just right. and canon gives them that chance--milligan's memories restored, their mission done, nicholas's past revealed--there's plenty of chances now to be on completely even ground.)

and like, just. getting that far?? going from strangers bound by fate and necessity to true friends and partners?

and obviously this also applies to the other members of their little found family, them going from being alone to being alone together to slowly finding others, being a team, a family whether they'll admit it or not but like!!

it's about trust! and compassion! and faith and love and goodness in humanity! it's about being alone and finding light in the dark!!! about found family and friendships formed in being alone together trying to help people even when no one helps you!! about people helping and supporting each other!!! it's about friends when it seems hopeless!!! about thinking you're alone and everyone's turned against you and finding someone else like you!!! it's about trust! it's about kindness! it's about love! FUCK!

and honestly, all of this is still iconic and amazing and so so good if it's just like, platonic friendship. or even getting into queerplatonic territory, utterly good and valid 10/10. i'd genuinely be happy with that too. but i admit, i'm a little bit of a romantic at heart--as much as i hate how fandom tends to center shipping and how society puts romance over friendship, i'm kind of a sucker for a fictional romance anyway. albeit usually queer ones that i make myself. (i could probably get into all the complex ways this interacts with my sexuality, because im pretty sure im ace and i might be aro or demi, but honestly, i don't even know lmao. anyway) so i like exploring it as a ship anyway, you know? but it's just one way of looking at it among many, albeit one i tend to favor. (and to think this started as a half-ironic joke 😩 remember kids if you ship something ironically it will become unironic eventually whether you want it to or not)

ANYWAY! i think even once the others are there, like. now don't get me wrong, it's not a case of one or both of them loving the other More than the others. it's not like that. i mean, romance doesn't go above friendship anyway, it's just a different type of love, not More or Better. but like, they've been around together the longest, and they kind of have an understanding. i'm sure each has their own unique understandings with each of the other members of the team, but like, in this case, what i mean is like. milligan saw mr. benedict at his lowest point, even if he was trying very hard to seem fine, and mostly succeeding. especially as at that point they weren't the close-knit friends/colleagues(???? like. team members.) they are now. but he did see that, and i think while there's still plenty of like. that same respect (and again, the insistence that he 'owes mr benedict everything' and use of 'sir' so there is a like. distance there, in some ways--although this is firmly in the realm of headcanon i do believe that perhaps later, when they are alone, and not so mission oriented, he calls him nicholas sometimes. when it's important. you know) he sees him just a little differently. and that goes both ways, very much so.

and as much as i like the idea of just sort of being like and then they get together in some ambiguous pre-canon so i don't have to deal with as many characters or the main plot, i do also love like. post-canon for a lot of reasons like.

now we gotta/get to deal with:

they both have kids now (kate and constance!)

nicholas's evil twin + the main plot in general

milligan's memories are back! im sure this wont have any far-reaching implications for their relationship (and just in general)

the complexities of how specifically it was nicholas's twin brother who took those memories

the mission is over so one could certainly imply there is no longer a "workplace", but they're sticking together anyway (or you could go with the wetherall farm, which adds its own complications, but either way it's not like they're going to suddenly never talk again) so like. perhaps no more 'mr benedict' although old habits are hard to break, especially with curtain's new evil plans on the horizon (and will mr. benedict get kidnapped? hm)

generally just dealing with like. the various implications of the events of season one (the kids, curtain's future evil plans, sq, milligan's memories, etc etc etc)

which ujst brings so so so much to consider i dont even have time for all of this like. i just love the idea. like.

they're dads. they're both dads. this has so many implications. how they end up kind of co-parenting both kids even though technically constance is nicholas's and kate milligan's (and they were already sisters before they realized they were their respective kids anyway). how they each get to see the other being a great dad and just go ah..... hes such a good dad....... :). how they rely on each other and support each other (since again they are both just like Suddenly Single Dads ldkfgjdfg--they also, obviously, have the other adults, but again, they are both in kind of the same boat, albeit in wildly different routes to get there). how their kids do interact with this whole thing and see this and how they might react to "so our dads might be in love? hm" (both potential for angst and comedy, but in this case i lean towards the latter)

milligan's memories. like. remembering the person he was before, and who he is now, and like. choosing to let himself be both, rather than trying to force himself to be the person he was ten years ago? like he'll remember things--his childhood home, memories with young kate, memories of whoever her mother was, of his parents, of whatever from his past--and it's like. how could he ever have forgotten? and like. the fact that nicholas's twin took them from him. took kate from him. but like, he doesn't blame nicholas (even though nicholas very much blames himself) even when he remembers his time actually working at the institute and remembers curtain's face. like actually remembers being dragged off to the brainsweeper and curtain's face when it happened. and like, the good and the bad, knowing that as nicholas promised--i'll be there for you when you need me, when and if--that he has support, both with this and with kate, that he isn't alone anymore, that if someone tried to take his memories again, tried to take him again... he'd be missed, people would look for him, and even if he were to be taken, kate would be okay, because of course nicholas and the others would never allow her to be alone again. and like the implications of all these things coming back to him, from railroad trivia to chemistry to the people he once knew, and how it mixes with the memories and the person he's become over these last ten years... like. milligan choosing to keep the name milligan, because he's gone by it for ten years and all the people he loves know him as that and it is his name, now, and he chose it himself, he chooses to keep it. (not me wanting to talk about personal headcanons with him and/or nicholas being trans--) and like how these memories affect how he sees the world now, how he sees his newer memories now, how he might notice things he wouldn't have before, know things he didn't know... how would affect his perspective? their perspective, even? their relationship?

and like i just think that while there's a lot going on so it's unlikely anything would happen right away, it is like. fertile ground for the seeds to be planted. with their long mission over, the emergency finally vanquished, and nicholas's past out in the open, milligan's past unlocked and memory slowly becoming whole, they're on more even footing than ever. and even as they end up going against his brother again--and no doubt nicholas offers them all a way out, especially milligan who's already lost so much and could easily lose more, with kate still here, but not one of them takes it--they are once again fighting side by side (metaphorically speaking) which leaves plenty of room for tense situations and possibilities, and just like.

their relationship developing further, they get closer, more comfortable with each other now that those little things that never quite clicked have been adjusted. those firsts, again, do you think? the first time nicholas has a nightmare about his brother and actually shares what it was about, the first time milligan talks about his memories and his conflicting feelings about them, about kate and curtain...

(you could also get more tropey, like the first time they fall asleep together, because the day is long and the night is so dark and for once they're comfortable enough to just ask. just ask.

or getting a little sillier, things like 'the first time we totally had to like, pretend to date/make out/whatever. you know. for the mission/the distraction/the cover.' (this could also be pre-canon to be fair) or 'curtain attempts to give milligan the shovel talk because he somehow thinks he has the high ground. they're not even in a relationship yet. this does not end well' or whatever lmao)

and of course. i mean. first kiss! first kiss! so many possibilities! i'm falling apart! is it sudden, impulsive, in the aftermath of a horrible time or in the eye of the storm? is it slow and warm and it just feels inevitable, neither of them are surprised because they felt it coming a mile away? is it silly? is it casual? is it accidental? is it late in the night, warm and tipsy? or gentle, and one of them wasn't expecting it, but they melt anyway? is it desperate and before a parting, or full of relief in a reunion? do they talk afterwards or is there no need for words? or is there no time, no time at all? are they alone? with friends? among enemies? is it clumsy and unpracticed but sweet, or perfect?

and like where do they go from there? i feel like surprisingly not that much would change, especially outwardly--they're all already so close, and tight-knit, and they support each other so much already, it's just like. not that they need romance to heal but it helps, both just bc of where they're at with their pasts finally being dredged up and dealt with, and because they do have each other! maybe nicholas gets more openly affectionate, finally feeling like he's allowed, beginning to let go of his guilt, and maybe milligan begins to laugh easier again, smile more. but not much changes, just that sometimes when nicholas laughs himself to sleep with a dumb pun or beams brightly when one of them teases him, milligan leans forward to kiss him (and maybe the kids heckle them, delighted and teasing), and sometimes when milligan laughs nicholas doesn't even try to hide the lovelorn look and instead steps closer. and if they sleep in the same bed, it's not like anyone cares or has reason to notice, and if they end up basically being dads to each others' kids as well, honestly, the entire group is basically co-parenting All of the kids, even the ones that are decidedly none of theirs, so really, it's not a big difference.

and like a first date.... would they try a little too hard before realizing that they don't have to change just bc they've changed what their relationship is called? like a kinda awkward dinner or something where they're trying a little too hard to be A Romantic Relationship(TM) but then they actually talk and it's like okay fuck this fancy restaurant let's go somewhere more us and they end up like. at the library, or at the park, somewhere they've been before, and just like. talking. except now, you know, when he looks over at nicholas waving his hands animatedly while explaining something and thinks ah, i want to kiss him, he CAN. and so on. or you know, maybe that doesn't happen at all, maybe they don't feel the need for 'dates' in that sense, even if perhaps they do intentionally spend more time with just the two of them, maybe the transition is smooth and easy.

it's not like it'd be perfect or without problems, and the issue of their inexplicably intertwined tragic backstories, namely tied together by nicholas's brother, doesn't exactly go away. but like. they're all already so close? you know? and they love each other. and both of them cant help but like. wake up and see their partner--because boyfriend feels small, and they've been partners for a lot longer than they've been kissing--and just think they're so very lucky to have made it here. to have a family, to have come so far, no longer alone and afraid but surrounded by loved ones, now a father and a husband partner and just part of a family.

(of course, the wedding is a whole other thing. but you know.)

.

as for what made me start shipping it, honestly, it was half a joke at first. not like, in a bad way, but i wasn't serious, because this is a fandom i generally go gen for, considering it's so found family focused. even in this ask a lot of what i was talking about kinda shifted to that general found family vibe in my brain before i course corrected back. that's not a bad thing, again, but basically it was kind of a half-ironic idea, just because they had a few scenes that made me go 👀 (the 'when and if' conversation at the bonfire, the conversation outside the cabin ('i ask so much of you, of all of you' 'yes. but you give more'), the conversation at the telescope ('please. i know there's more.' '...we'll stay until we spot him') etc.) and also i noticed that the tent they camped in by the telescope was fuckin tiny and i was like "oh they were DEFINITELY cuddling. spooning perhaps. platonically or otherwise it for SURE happened that tent is tiny and neither of them are. ESPECIALLY not milligan. come now."

and not that there needs to be a ship, but like, most of the adults it would feel weird to ship (even if number two and rhonda aren't canonically confirmed as sisters or mr. benedict's daughters, it would feel very gross to ship any of those three together because it just feels weird) and as cute as kate and martina are, shipping kids like. more than just sort of super pg 'they'd be cute together <3' feels weird for me, as an adult. you know? and while i'm fine with no ships, my point being even if were to develop an attachment, options are limited. (rhonda/miss perumal has potential tho and i stand by that statement!)

anyway it was kind of a joke at first, since early on, obviously there was less show canon to work with so book canon shaped a lot of how i and generally the fandom viewed the characters (not that it still doesnt but now we have plenty to work with within the show. when season one was still coming out there was less, obviously.) so like. it's kind of funny bc obviously in the books mr. benedict is like a seventy year old grandpa and milligan is still a like, middle aged dad. technically i mean consenting adults but also what the fuck. obviously im over that by now but it did add a certain comedic dissonance to it.

but the more i thought about it, the more i thought about it seriously. until i started being like "wait. wait. wait oh no. wait i might--" and then i was like "STOP LAUGHING GIRL HELP IM SHIPPING IT FOR REAL" and then i was like "okay i ship it unironically now but it's just me and one (1) other person so i'm not gonna bring it up a lot and mostly just keep it to us" and then somehow along the way i lost whatever shame i had and dragged the entire active part of the fandom down with me into the canoe. it's still a small fandom and still basically just me and august writing any content for it, for the most part, but considering i've got most of the fandom to come around i'd call that a win. somehow. insane. not that i'm single handedly responsible but like. while i don't think i was the only one to watch it and think 'oh they have chemistry' i was, as far as i can tell, the first to write anything for/about it or talk about it openly? you know? yeah. anyway

the point is, the more i thought about it the more i was like.....hm. actually,

and now im here. captain of the nicholas/milligan ship. oops

.

as for the etc., here are some random headcanons:

mr benedict.... little spoon. However! not always.

that being said my reasoning is as follows: not bc milligan Big although also true. bc milligan is very much like. a Protector and feeling like. like someone feels safe with him, feels safer in his arms than alone, rather than in any way afraid of him or intimidated? particularly in such a physical way? is just like. it's nice. that his intimidating stature can equate to safety and protection and warmth and comfort rather than scary and danger and intimidation and violence. someone putting their back to him and being vulnerable and relaxing because of it? wow. conversely, nicholas very much needs a hug at all times have you met the man?? and letting himself have that, being okay with being the comforted instead of the comforter, is something that could just be. like. so good. so i think it would be really nice for both of them. that being sad that doesnt mean they could/would never switch because it's not like you're assigned little or big spoon at birth and you can never switch or change your mind. come on now. also milligan deserves to be little spoon too sometimes <33 and mr benedict? good big spoon. very good.

that first year they ended up picking a birthday for milligan. possibly he chose the day he woke up, or even better/sadder, the day he came to the house for the first time. they celebrate it every year, and the first time, nicholas may or may not have gone out and gotten like ten different slices of cake in different flavors in an attempt to find his favorite. turns out he's partial to red velvet and is not a fan of chocolate. milligan wants to return the favor (not the cakes thing, just the general like. making it feel like. special?) but mr benedict is weirdly evasive about his birthday and clearly not comfortable talking about it, so instead he picks some other holiday to make a special effort for. christmas is the logical option but also the idea of milligan going super hard on halloween to cheer nicholas up is utterly delightful.

stargazing. easy to do from the roof (if they dare 😩) or the garden, perhaps. very nice. lots of opportunities to infodump. not to project my Romance Fantasies but like, nicholas likes to like, basically infodump a bunch of information (bc honestly is there a better nd way of showing love than sharing information you care about with people you care about? bc it makes you happy and you want to share things that matter to you and bc you hope it's interesting and will make them smile?) and like, milligan genuinely likes to listen? like it's not a burden or something to put up with for someone he loves, he genuinely thinks it's interesting (and he's--he's cute all lit up and excited and explaining!!!) and enjoys listening and nicholas is like oh, i've been talking your ear off, i'm sorry, i tend to go on too long, it's alright if you need to tell me to stop, and milligan just like. says no, i enjoy listening. and eventually maybe he says it enough nicholas believes it, you know?

that being said it goes both ways, albeit less often, as milligan tends to be on the quieter side. but when it is about something he cares about or knows a lot about, nicholas is just as happy to listen.

and either way, whoever's talking, it ends up evolving into a spirited conversation as they ask questions or make their own connections and it's just great

(again i must say this isn't exclusively between them, the whole found family vibes with this kind of thing, but sometimes--i mean. sometimes it is just them, under the stars, and you know, i just. i'm picturing like.

nicholas is so bright and excited explaining something about constellations or observatories or pulley systems or classic literature or whatever it is, waving his hands, going off on tangents then trying to course correct back again, and milligan--he is listening, and he certainly doesn't want to miss any of it, but he can't help but also think i want to kiss him. because he's just. beautiful, passionate, and milligan loves him.

and he waits for a pause in the flow of information, where normally he might ask a question, and he does. because he can. and nicholas is kind of like. quietly pleased, what was that for? he asks a little playfully, and milligan just says, simply, like it's obvious, something like because you're you, or because i love how passionate you are, or even just because i wanted to, and nicholas smiles, and then milligan asks a question because goddamn it he was listening and nicholas lights up and off the conversation goes again)

also nicholas just loves doing so many like. little things? i feel like love languages are kind of bullshit because everyone is a mix, even if they favor certain things more than others, but with nicholas i feel like. the way to get through to him is generally touch, physical affection, although like. obviously the others (particularly quality time, and also maybe words of affirmation) help. but the way he shows it is in little things, being thoughtful in little ways. (also quality time. but. as i said. love languages are really not clear cut i think.) like sometimes that's gifts, or words right when they're needed, but he's good at reading what other people need. so like. little ways of being supportive, little gifts given not too directly so much as left, like he doesn't want to take credit, even when everyone knows it was him. with milligan that could be a lot of things--making sure that dinner is a favorite food of his when he seems down, leaving little gifts or trinkets for him or finding a way to sort of just. casually give them to him, because he didn't have anything when he came here and he deserved more than an empty room, he deserved a home, and even if he couldn't give him his memories he could damn well make better new ones, and like. whether it's little material things that are his (his, because he has things that are his now, that belong to him and him alone, not just the dirty uniform he showed up in that had never felt like his anyway) or thoughtful gestures or even, later, when they're in a relationship, things like flowers (probably carefully chosen both for their colors and meanings) and what have you, and just like. he loves doing nice things for milligan okay, more than any grand gestures, just. little things to make his day better, his life better

anyway this is insanely long so im gonna stop now. my point is: nicholas/milligan good<3

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace. 

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you. 

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.” 

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

[sunjaesol]

THE MANY CRUSHES OF LUKE PATTERSON... AND THE ONE THAT STUCK

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

1982

Luke Patterson's first crush ever was Haley Martin. He adored the colour of her hair — like the clementines his mom bought — and the way she finger-painted, enough for his four year old eyes to stare at her in awe.

He watched her make mud pies in the sandbox from the monkey bars, only to ruin them to get a rise out of her. He couldn't understand why she didn't like him the way he did, so he nagged his mom to explain.

"Teasing girls should be fun for them too, sweetheart," she soothed. "This Haley clearly didn't like it."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Her smile stayed warm, similar to hot chocolate and whenever grandpa conjured candies from behind his ear. "Why don't you share your grapes with her tomorrow? I'm sure she'll like that."

His nose scrunched up. "Why?"

"Because it's sweet, Luke."

"I don't get that," he shrugged. "But I'll try."

The next day, he sat beside her during storybook time and that seemed to help a little already. By the time it was lunch, her mood was lifted, which excited him too, and urged him to offer the grapes.

It earned him a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Luke squeaked in surprise, flushing a firetruck red, to which she giggled and plopped another grape in her mouth.

Three days later, his crush was gone from his mind and he began sharing his grapes with his new friend Reginald instead.

1986

"Can you ask Jessica what she thinks of me?" Luke hurriedly whispered, eyes flickering between Reggie and the girl from across the courtyard.

Normally, Luke Patterson exuded confidence. The resident class clown, always opening his jaw to react to the teacher without raising his hand, catching fights with stupid classmates, sneaking into dad's stationwagon to create mixtapes.

Fearlessness was his freaking middle name. (It was actually Beck, but whatever. He wished it was something cool like Duran Duran though.)

But when it came to girls... he got so nervous. Because they were girls! He didn't understand them! They hated rambunctious boys and only listened to stupid pop music and blabbered about how they stole makeup from their sisters.

Jessica, however, somehow made his heart flutter and his stomach twist up. She just looked cool in her dungarees and she had a pretty smile and she didn't wear that overwhelming, sugary perfume that was now popular.

Reggie snickered, in the way only eight year old boys could. "You liiiiiiike her!"

"No!" He scowled. "I–I'm just curious."

"Sure," he drawled, but then shrugged in agreement, the oversized leather jacket rustling on his shoulders. He stole it from his older brother after he saw him kissing (!!!) some girl and figured it held some magic to impress the ladies with.

"Just do it!"

With a dramatic flourish, the boy left their hiding spot, Luke lurking around the corner of the alcove to watch. Jessica looked up from her hard work of creating friendship bracelets and smiled at Reggie.

Oh, gosh. She was pretty.

A minute later, a sheepish Reg slowly crawled back to him, cheeks red and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

Luke grabbed his shoulders, urgent. "What did she say?"

"Uh... well..."

"C'mon, dude!"

Reggie sighed. "She... likes me, buddy. Sorry."

His hopeful face crashed into one of devestation, quickly covering it up with a laugh and a squeeze of the shoulder. Oh, man, what would Steven Tyler do?

"That– that's dope!"

In the end, Reggie and Jessica were boyfriend and girlfriend for a week while he wrote an angry poem about how stupid dungarees were.

Huh... it was surprisingly good.

1988

"Hey, Luke," Gwenn greeted, shy, tucking her hands in her Camp Wacky Rocka hoodie. "I really liked that song you made about your guitar."

Jumping from the tree branch to the ground, Luke dazzled her with an appreciative smile. From above, Reggie and their new friend Alex watched on curiously.

"Thanks!"

Who would've thought that summer camp would be the first time he made a real, girl friend! Gwenn was super cool and she played the saxophone and she liked Joan Jett and her hair was all curly and big and it reminded him of pretty clouds.

Looking over her shoulder, he noticed a gaggle of girls staring at them. Like they were waiting.

Gwenn stared at him. "Can you close your eyes?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just 'cause."

Whatever. Maybe she wanted to show him something cool and would stick it in his hand. Complying, he closed his eyes and impatiently waited, bouncing on his heels.

"So?"

Suddenly, he felt a light, warm touch on his mouth and — oh! She was kissing him!

Luke staggered back in surprise, gawking at a blushing Gwenn as she squeaked a sorry and ran back to the now giggling and screeching girls. They ran away like a flock of birds.

It was a dare! His first kiss, stolen by a dare!

His boys jumped down beside him, awed.

Reggie hollered. "You kissed Gwenn!"

"I don't get it," Alex muttered.

Luke's face twisted up in a sour expression. Camp Wacky Rocka should be all about the music and becoming legends and Gwenn ruined it!

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever. Let's go to the mess hall!"

1989

When Luke turned eleven, he kissed someone for real.

His birthday party was at the arcade, loud chatter and robotic sounds clashing together in an amazing cacophony. His parents hated the place, which is why Luke loved it.

Of the twenty guests, Yasmine clapped the loudest after he finished his song with the boys — Math Is For Losers! — and grabbed his hand as they walked to a duel game.

Luke felt fuckin' giddy the entire time. (Freakin' in front of his parents, fuckin' with friends.) The swoop in his stomach, his cheeks stretched into a wide beam.

Freshly eleven and the king of the arcade, he boldly asked if he could kiss her.

She smiled, her purple headband glittering in the neon lights, and nodded.

It was short and warm and her lips tasted like pink lemonade and sour gummies and it gave him an entirely new buzz. It was exciting.

He kissed her a couple more times the days after, eager and curious, until she claimed she was now only interested in twelve year old boys.

Since Luke now held the record of most kisses between him, Alex and Reggie, he wasn't too bothered by it. They shook hands, complimented each other on the kissing, and that was that.

1992

"Are you or are you not my boyfriend?" Olivia bit, crossing her arms.

Luke sighed, lazy gaze drifting from her to his band waiting by their bikes. Damn, he thought having a girlfriend would be way easier. Why was she so tense?

"I am," he said. "Why do you think I'm not?"

"Because you ignore me, like, all the time!" Pouting, she fiddled with the hem of her tartan skirt. "And now you're going to be with your band!"

He shrugged. "You can come with us and listen, if you want."

Luke met Olivia this year as deskmates in French class. Her raven hair was long and thick and her lips were all shiny from lip gloss and maybe he got a little cocky, thinking he could be dating the hottest girl of freshman year, so he naturally asked her out.

Maybe he should've considered beforehand whether they had anything in common, but he'd always been the overzealous type. And besides... she was a good kisser.

She scoffed. "That's not any better. Whatever. I'll just hang with Tina and Priscilla then. Laters!"

Plopping a kiss on his lips, she turned around and stalked to her whispering friends. Luke puffed, adjusted the beanie and made his way to the boys.

Girls were confusing.

"I bet dating boys is easier," Alex mused. "Like, equally terrifying, but also... easier. I think. Maybe."

Bobby laughed. "How's the girlfriend, Luke?"

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. "Let's go. I got this new song, Crooked Teeth, and it's a fucking banger!"

Olivia broke up with him after Sunset Curve's first, official gig at the arcade with the explanation that he loved music more than her. He never loved her to begin with, so maybe that was the problem.

She made out with Bobby that same night.

Holy shit, man. He supposed that bitter feeling at the sight of them tasted like rock 'n roll, the one thing he actually craved.

What a funny, funny feeling. (He wrote a hell of a lot of songs about it after. He never quite looked at Bobby the same way either.)

1995

"Hey, Maisie." Leaning against the locker beside the girl, he shot her a million dollar smile. "You comin' to our gig tonight? It's at The Orpheum."

Maisie was fucking awesome. Always in short, flowery dresses and fishnet tights and thick eyeliner like a rockstar, always listening to something new on her walkman. She came from a rich family, but that didn't hinder them from becoming friends.

Her jaw fell slack in awe, him instantly gaining more confidence. Ducking his head to meet her eye, he leaned a little closer. He knew damn well what he was doing, and he got a thrill every time it worked.

"Really?" She gasped. "That's awesome! I'll so be there!"

"Sweet," he grinned. "And stay after too."

A brow quirked up, intrigued. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just 'cause."

"Right," she drawled. "Nothing is 'just because' with you, Luke."

"And that's why you gotta stay," he teased, nudging her shoe with his. "To find out."

If they rocked that gig and he felt like a fucking legend, he hoped it would end with the two of them hooking up. He wasn't interested in dating — having learned his lesson after Olivia — and he knew she wasn't either, but she was fun.

And that was the most important to him: to have fucking fun. Luke Patterson was here for a good time, not a long time.

And if nothing happened between him and Maisie, then he'd still feel like a legend. In a couple of hours, he was going to play at The Orpheum! How gnarly was that?!

2022

Twenty-seven years later, Luke was still seventeen years old. While he preferred to not question the science behind ghostly activities — he flunked physics anyway — he was happy that he froze at this age.

Because Julie was seventeen, too.

And, man. He was madly in love with her.

He loved everything, from the babyhairs curling around her ears, to her voice and compassionate soul, to her beautiful smile, all the way to her cute, doodled sneakers.

Her epic music taste, her snark, the way she always found his gaze, the way she finished his lyrics, the way she always knew what to say to make him feel better.

His heart melted to a flickering candle whenever she hugged him, a raging wildfire erupting between every kiss. He was a fool for her.

"Stop moving," she giggled, one hand coming up to hold his chin.

He grinned, "Sorry, Jules."

Shifting closer, she dabbled more glitter on his cheeks. They were playing at a black-light club tonight, so Julie and Flynn bought all the glow in the dark makeup available at the store for the occasion.

They looked ridiculous in daylight, Julie's weirdly pink lipstick claiming all his attention, but he knew they'd look fucking cool once the lights went down.

"You want to watch a movie after the gig?" she whispered.

Luke rolled his eyes, playful. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah." With a bashful tilt of the shoulder, she leaned in closer. "But then you'll be with me."

"Julie! How scandalous," he teased, though his chest swelled at the thought of having some alone time, some cuddle time, with Julie.

"So?"

Murmuring a yes, he closed the little distance to kiss her, sealing the deal, only for her to chase after him — an attempt to wipe the lipstick stain off his lips.

"Nah, keep it." A smirk grew. "So the people know."

She tsked. "Idiot."

"You like it."

"I'm still taking it off though, seeing as you're supposed to be a hologram," she pointed out. "But... you can kiss my lipstick away after the show."

He sighed, dreamy. "I love you."

Finishing his glitter and removing the stain, she dazzled him with a satisfied smile. "Love you too."

She rose up from the couch and went to search for Reggie, the boy likely with Carlos. For a moment, Luke was alone in the studio, allowing himself to sink into that warm, fuzzy feeling.

No matter how many blunders he went through with girls — Haley, Jessica, Gwenn, Yasmine, Olivia, Maisie — they all prepared him, in one way or the other, for Julie.

To not only recognise when an awesome girl was standing right in front of him, but also how to treat her — because Julie Molina deserved the fucking world.

Even if that world now included the supernatural.

Whatever. They were all a little crazy.

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@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @unsaid-emily @willexx