#where did she get that fire extinguisher? we don’t talk about that

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages: Part Six

Word Count: 4.1k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x reader

Warnings: Mentions of su!cide

Masterlist

—

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up, doll, please.” Bucky’s voice was soft, laced with desperation as he rested his forehead against the door. It had been almost a month since he last saw you. He’d walked by your apartment countless times, even though it was nowhere near his place or his therapist’s office. It was the only way he could feel close to you anymore.

Especially when you wouldn’t answer his calls or respond to his texts. The only reason he figured out how to use his phone remotely was to reach out to you, but he’d settled for listening to your voicemail. The familiar message played over and over in his mind: “Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. If you have this number, odds are you’re probably in the compound with me and are too lazy to come find me.” A pause, and then Natasha’s voice in the background, “It was one time… okay, maybe more than 10.” Steve and your laughter followed before you continued, “But if not, I guess leave a message.” Tony’s voice cut in at the end, “She won’t get back to you, bye!” before the beep sounded.

But four weeks was far too long. He had to know you were alright. Sam had told him that he stopped by two weeks ago, heard the TV on, and saw your shadow under the door, but you weren’t answering him either. Bucky was hoping this wasn’t about him telling you he needed time. He felt so stupid doing that. He’d talked about it with Steve after you left, the night Steve told the two of you he was going to stay.

Steve had told him he was being stupid, that it wasn’t by chance all three of you were alive—just like it wasn’t by chance when he went to collect the Infinity Stones with Tony, he just so happened to hide in Peggy’s office. It was fate. Bucky knew he was being stupid, knew everything Steve and you had done for him, to get him back, to save him. All the sacrifices you made. But it was just so easy for Steve to toss him—and you—aside. He was scared that once you realised he wasn’t the same Bucky anymore, you’d do the same. But you also weren’t the same Y/N he fell in love with anymore, and nothing scared him more than falling out of love with you.

What was a little more time, he thought?

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see his shadow from under the doorframe. You felt like you were on fire—quite literally possible for you to set yourself on fire too—and you would if it meant Bucky was here to beg for you back with a ring in hand.

“Please, it’s about the shield, about Steve. We need to get it back, back to where it belongs.”

Burning.

“I’m done, Buck.” Your voice was hoarse, your throat scratchy. You were positive he wouldn’t have even heard it if it wasn’t for the serum.

“What do you mean you’re done?” His voice grew louder as he banged on the door a little harder. ��Open the door, let’s talk, please.”

“Go away, James. I don’t want you here.”

Wincing at his name coming out of your mouth, made something in him churn, he scoffed, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. “You’re really going to do this? After everything Steve did for you?”

You winced, the glass cup in your hand shattering to the ground, water pooling around your feet. The fire within you momentarily extinguished, replaced by a cold, empty feeling that seeped into your bones.

Silence stretched between you, the only sound was the drip of water from the broken cup. You stood there, unmoving, surrounded by shards of glass.

“Y/N, I didn’t—I’m sorry.” His voice was softer now, filled with regret. He lingered for a moment longer, and you heard the floor creak as he slowly walked away.

The echo of his footsteps faded, leaving you alone in the quiet, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked down at the shattered glass, the water still seeping into the cracks of the floorboards. The fire was gone, replaced by an overwhelming numbness that you weren’t sure would ever leave.

You sank to the floor, your back against the door, knees drawn to your chest. The water soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, the weight of your grief pressing you further into the ground. But as the hours passed, the numbness began to fade, replaced by a dull ache deep in your chest. You weren’t sure what hurt more—Bucky’s words or the fact that he was right.

Steve was gone. Tony was gone. Natasha was gone. And now, it felt like Bucky was gone too.

But what did it matter? You were done. Done fighting, done caring, done with everything. You were so tired—tired of being strong, of holding on to something that had slipped through your fingers long ago.

But as much as you wanted to give up, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bucky was still out there, still hoping you’d open that door. And a part of you wanted to—wanted to reach out, to hold onto the one person who understood what you were going through.

But that part of you was buried deep, smothered by the pain and the grief and the endless darkness that surrounded you. So you stayed there, on the cold, wet floor, alone with your thoughts and the broken pieces of your heart.

—-

Louisiana 2024

Sam stood on his front porch, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he stared at the call log. The screen dimmed, reflecting his own frustrated expression back at him. He exhaled sharply, his thumb hovering over your name before he pressed it and brought the phone to his ear. When it went straight to voicemail, he let out a groan, squeezing the phone so hard that, if he had the serum running through his veins, it would have shattered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned inside him—frustration at how vague you’d been, anger at Bucky for keeping him in the dark, and an overwhelming sense of dread. He’d seen the headlines, the video footage of you walking away from Bucky with lightning cracking the sky behind you. At first, he thought it was just another argument, a clash of wills. He knew how stubborn Bucky could be, but you—you were supposed to be the glue that held everything together. Steve had always said that about you. Sam had hoped it would hold true, that you and Bucky could find common ground, that the three of you could weather this storm together.

But everything had changed. Six months was a long time, too long. Sam had given you space, knowing you needed time to process everything, but the silence was unbearable. Every day he checked his phone for any sign that you were okay, scoured the news for anything that might hint at your whereabouts. When he heard about the lightning strike that split a 100-year-old tree in half, part of him was relieved—at least it was a sign that you were still out there. But it was clearly intentional, and that worried him more. He tried talking to Bucky, but all he got was the same dismissive response: “None of your business.”

But now, as he replayed your last conversation over and over in his mind, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a “see you later.” It felt like a real goodbye, the kind you don’t come back from. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about one of the last conversations he’d ever had with Steve, the one where they’d talked about you. Steve had been so sure that you’d be okay, that you’d find your way. But now… Sam wasn’t so sure.

He paced the porch, the old wood creaking under his boots, trying to figure out what to do next. Should he try to find you? Track you down? Or was that just pushing you further away? The more he thought about it, the more his mind raced, caught between his loyalty to you and the promise he made to Steve—to keep the team, the family, together.

Sam ran a hand over his face, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. He was Captain America now, but he felt more lost than ever. “Damn it, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, glancing out at the horizon, where the last light of the day was fading into darkness. “I can’t lose you too.”

—

2023 - A Little Before Steve Rogers’ Passing

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

A small smile tugged at Steve’s lips. “You know you can stop calling me that. The shield’s yours now.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his voice. “You’re always gonna be my Captain.”

Nostalgia washed over Steve’s face before his expression grew serious. “Y/N hasn’t come by, I haven't seen her since the stones. I haven’t heard from her. I’m worried, Sam.”

“I’ve stopped by multiple times, called, texted… She’s just not answering. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Bucky won’t tell me anything,” Steve paused, sensing a lie in his own words before continuing, “They must be fighting again.” A small, bittersweet smile played on his lips as he thought of the countless, trivial arguments between you and Bucky.

Sam snorted. “Makes two of us. I think she’s just not handling all this…” He gestured toward Steve, who was lying in the hospital bed. “Well.”

Steve nodded, his expression conflicted. He opened his mouth, then closed it, weighing whether to say what he was thinking. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with hesitation. “I know this is asking a lot of you, Sam, but you need to look after her.”

“You know I will, Cap. Always. She’s family to me too.”

Steve’s face softened, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m gonna tell you something that only Y/N, Tony, Fury, and I knew. You can’t tell Bucky. It’ll just make things worse.”

Sam’s demeanour shifted as he leaned in, sensing the gravity of what Steve was about to reveal. “Yeah, of course. My lips are sealed.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Y/N… she didn’t just go for a walk, fall asleep, and wake up here,” he said. “She died, Sam.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What? That wasn’t in any file…”

“I know. We decided it was best kept a secret. But a little bit after she woke up, she couldn’t remember much. When it all came back to her, she was hysterical. We had to sedate her. It was like everything she felt before hit her all at once. But we got her to talk. It wasn’t uncommon after the war for people to…” Steve hesitated, the weight of the truth heavy on his shoulders.

Sam’s eyes widened, his discomfort evident as he anticipated where Steve was headed.

“She lost us, Sam. She didn’t have anyone left. She attended not one, but two funerals where there was no body. I couldn’t imagine what she felt,” Steve continued, his voice growing softer. He looked directly at Sam, his expression grave. “She did it, Sam. She went to… and she did.”

“Steve, that’s… a lot,” Sam stammered, standing up to pace near the foot of the bed. “That changes everything. I gotta—”

Steve cut him off gently. “I know it’s a lot. But as long as you know she’s still in there, alive… that’s all that matters, Sam.”

“Why didn’t you tell Bucky? That’s his girl,” Sam pressed, clearly struggling to process the information.

“He was going through a lot. He was healing. She was healing. She promised me everything was fine,” Steve replied, though his voice was tinged with doubt.

“He’d kick down that door if he knew,” Sam muttered, almost to himself.

Steve managed a small smile. “Yeah, I know he would. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She’s his everything.”

“Any idea why they’d be fighting?” Sam asked, his tone tinged with frustration.

Steve shrugged, though the gesture seemed forced. “Can’t say I do, Sam.”

But of course, Steve knew. Bucky had come to him two weeks ago, asking for advice about you. He’d admitted he didn’t know who he was anymore, and by extension, he didn’t know who you were either. He was afraid of dragging you through the dark tunnel of his self-discovery. Steve had told him that was a stupid notion—that you’d be more hurt by him saying he needed space, that he needed time. After all, the two of you were already on borrowed time.

Steve had promised Bucky he wouldn’t say anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, because he’d hoped that the two of you would sort things out before it was too late. But by the looks of it, that wasn’t the case. It was a secret that Steve would take to the grave, trusting that Bucky would confide in Sam when he was ready, when the trust between them was strong enough. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

As Sam paced the room, his mind raced with the implications of what Steve had just revealed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out, not just for Steve, but for all of them. He stopped and turned to face his old friend, his expression hardening with resolve.

“I won’t let her slip away, Steve,” Sam said, his voice steady. “I promise you that.”

Steve nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I know you won’t, Sam. I trust you.”

The two men shared a moment of silence, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hanging heavily between them. Sam could see that Steve was tired, but there was a peace in his eyes, a quiet acceptance of what was to come.

“Steve… I need to know. Do you think she’ll be okay? Really okay?” Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s gaze softened as he looked up at Sam. “She’s strong, Sam. Stronger than she knows. But she’s been through so much… too much. She’ll need you. She’ll need both of you.”

Sam nodded, feeling the enormity of the responsibility settle on his shoulders. He knew that he couldn’t let Steve down—not now, not ever.

As he turned to leave, Steve’s voice stopped him at the door. “Sam… thank you.”

Sam looked back, his hand resting on the doorframe. “For what?”

“For being the man you are, for taking the shield. For everything, for looking after my family” Steve said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Sam nodded, unable to find the right words to respond. He simply gave Steve a small, respectful salute before walking out of the room, his mind already racing with what he needed to do next.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the compound. Sam took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew what he had to do. He had to find you, had to make sure you were okay, and most importantly, he had to keep Steve’s promise.

—

The front door swung open.

“What the hell, Sam? Was that Y/N?! Don’t even lie to me—I heard you say her name,” Bucky’s brows were creased in frustration, his finger pointing accusingly at Sam.

Sam hesitated, knowing that Bucky was already on edge. He had promised Steve, but he also knew that Bucky needed to know the truth. There was no way around it anymore. “We should go inside,” Sam finally said, his voice calm but firm.

As Sam turned to walk inside, Bucky grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. The two men locked eyes, and Sam could see the worry, panic, and heartache in Bucky’s gaze. He could also see the deep love Bucky had for you, and it only made what he had to say harder. Sam nodded toward the table inside, motioning for Bucky to follow. He could hear Bucky’s heavy footsteps behind him, each step filled with a mix of dread and anticipation.

Sam pulled out a chair and sat down, while Bucky remained standing with his arms crossed, a stubborn look on his face. “Sit down, Buck.”

“No,” Bucky replied, his voice flat.

“Bucky, sit down,” Sam insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Bucky lingered for a moment longer, his jaw clenched, before finally giving in and pulling out the chair across from Sam. “You better start talking, Sam,” he demanded, his voice low and tense.

Sam took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I will, under one condition: you don’t interrupt me. And know that the only reason I didn’t tell you earlier is because Steve made me promise.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Fine. Just talk.”

“One of the last times I went to visit Steve, he told me something that only he, Fury, Stark, and Y/N knew. It wasn’t in any of her files for good reason—it was need-to-know information, and Steve didn’t want to burden you with it while you were recovering. He believed Y/N would tell you when she was ready.” Sam paused, watching Bucky’s reaction carefully. “What do you know about the night she disappeared?”

Bucky’s scowl deepened. “Peggy told her about Steve…” he cleared his throat “And me, after the funerals, she just disappeared. Steve told me she fell asleep by our spot and woke up in 2012. The ground absorbed her or something, right?”

Sam shook his head, his expression somber. “She didn’t fall asleep, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with confusion and anger. “What do you mean she didn’t fall asleep? So Steve lied to me?”

“Bucky… she died.”

Bucky shot out of his chair, the force sending it flying back. “What do you mean, she died? So she’s a ghost?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” He started pacing, his mind racing as he tried to process Sam’s words. “Why’d they lie to me?” He slammed his fist down on the table, making Sarah jump in the kitchen.

“She committed suicide,” Sam said quietly, the words heavy in the air. He wanted to break eye contact with Bucky, but he couldn’t. Now, he understood what you meant when you said Bucky’s ocean eyes could suck you in like a whirlpool. Sam felt like he was drowning as he saw them fill with water.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief. “No, no, no… Why would she do that, Sam? Did he say why she would do that? My girl wouldn’t do that. She—she—”

“She lost both of you, Buck. She lost you, then she lost Steve. You two were all she had. There were no bodies to bury—no closure. I can’t imagine what she was feeling.”

Bucky slumped onto the couch, the weight of Sam’s words pressing down on him. He had millions of questions, but he was scared to ask them. The answer to this one was already too heavy, and he wasn’t sure he could carry any more.

“Steve said they ran tests and they were never able to find out how she was resurrected, but they assumed it had to do with her powers. There was no other logical explanation,” Sam continued, his voice softening.

Bucky nodded slowly, the silence in the room thick and suffocating. It hung between them until Bucky suddenly jumped up from the couch. “She lost Steve.”

“We all lost Steve,” Sam replied, confused by Bucky’s sudden outburst.

“No, you don’t get it,” Bucky said, running his hands down his face in frustration. “She lost Steve, and I—fuck, I’m so stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I gotta call her Sam. This is bad. Do you think she—do you think she would do it again?”

“Whoa, Buck, slow down,” Sam said, standing up. “What are you talking about?”

“I told her I needed time, Sam. She gave me the ring back. We broke up. She lost me, then she lost Steve.”

“Did Steve know?”

“Of course he knew. He told me I was stupid. I am stupid.”

Sam’s eyes widened as he connected the dots. “That was her on the phone… She told me she was proud of me. She was saying goodbye, Buck.”

“Well, call her back!” Bucky shouted, panic rising in his voice.

“I tried. It goes straight to voicemail,” Sam replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“She called me,” Bucky whispered, his voice breaking. “A day ago. She didn’t say anything, but I could hear her. Then she just hung up.” He paused, the realisation hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What if she already…”

“Don’t say it, Buck. She’s not… She can’t be,” Sam said, trying to keep his own fear in check.

“We gotta go now. We gotta go to her place and kick her door down!” Bucky was already heading toward the door, determined in every step.

“Wait, Buck,” Sam blurted out, stopping Bucky in his tracks. “48 hours ago, a single lightning strike hit a 100-year-old tree in the park.”

Bucky froze, understanding immediately. He knew what you were doing. “She let me go,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he wiped away a tear. “She was letting me—us go.”

Sam looked at Bucky, his heart sinking. “Do you know where else she could have gone?”

Before Bucky could answer, Sarah’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Hey, guys? I hate to interrupt, but you might wanna see this.”

Both men rushed into the kitchen, their eyes locking onto the TV screen. Spider-Man was on a video call with a news reporter, but this time, his mask was off.

“Just the truth,” Spider-Man spoke.

“Oh, sure,” Jameson replied, rolling his eyes.

“I thought he wore a mask for a reason?” Bucky questioned, confused by what he was seeing.

Sarah’s eyes widened. “You two missed a lot while you were fixing that damn boat. They revealed his identity—just some kid named Peter Parker from Queens,” she shrugged, still watching the screen.

“The truth is, that this is all my fault. I accidentally brought those dangerous people here,” Peter admitted.

“Well, he admits it!” Jameson exclaimed.

“And if those people are watching, just know that I really did try to help you. I mean, I could have killed you at any given moment. But I didn’t, because my Aunt May taught me that everyone deserves a second chance. And that’s why I’m here.”

“And where is ‘here’ exactly?” Jameson pressed.

Peter turned the camera slightly, revealing his location. “A place that represents second chances.”

As the camera panned, both Bucky and Sam caught a glimpse of you standing on the Statue of Liberty before the camera turned back to Peter.

“Did you see that?” Bucky asked, his heart racing.

Sam nodded, his mind racing as well. “She did promise Stark she’d watch out for Spider-Man, and if Peter is Spider-Man, she’s gonna watch out for him too.”

“The Statue of Liberty?! Good God, folks, he’s about to destroy another national landmark!” Jameson continued to rant.

“But world, if you’re watching—”

“Believe me, the world is watching—” Jameson cut in.

“Wish me luck. Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man could really use some,” Peter’s video ended, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Bucky turned to Sam, urgency in his voice. “Do you have his phone number?”

“When I became Captain America, they auto-synced phone numbers in my phone, but I’m not sure,” Sam said, reaching into his pocket.

“Well, check!” Bucky urged, his anxiety rising.

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?!” Sam shot back, scrolling through his contacts. “At least we know she’s alive.”

“Yeah, but not safe. What ‘bad guys’—plural, might I add—is he talking about?”

“I got it! I found it,” Sam said, turning his phone around to show Bucky the contact labelled ‘Spider-Man.’

Without hesitation, Bucky ripped the phone out of Sam’s hand and hit the call button, pressing it to his ear.

“What the hell, man? That’s my—”

Bucky put a finger to his lips, signalling Sam to be quiet as he waited for the call to connect. “Put Y/N on the phone,” Bucky demanded as soon as someone picked up on the other end.

[zweetpea]

Tea for Babygirl

happy birthday my Baby girl scaramouche/wanderer/Kunikuzushi

k so it gets a bit spicy at the end. You have been warned. Also, wife is used like three times but it’s mostly gender neutral, like you can be a male wife.

— Scaramouche/Wanderer doesn’t like sweets.

— You can respect that, but it’s his birthday.

— You and Nahida set to work making a delicious pound cake to go with his favorite tea.

— It was admittedly a bit messy, and maybe you’d spilt a bit of egg on the floor when mixing but you thought that you’d clean up before you Boyfriend Scara came home.

— It was all going well, you thought, until Nahida slipped on the Egg, hit the ground and, on impact created Dendro particles that fell into the wood-burn style oven.

— EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE!!

— “Ah! I’m so sorry!” She cries.

— “Please just get me more water!” You say as you try to extinguish it with a bucket.

— “But… don’t you have a hydro vision?”

— “…there’s a reason why you never gave me a Dendro vision.”

— You two put the fire out as Scara came running in.

— “What the hell happened in here?”

— “Happy birthday?” You and Nahida shrug timidly.

— You gave him the tea and explained what happened.

— “Great, just another reason to hate sweets.”

— “Cmon! They’re not that bad!”

— He smirks wolfishly. “Are you kidding? A stupid pound cake nearly killed my wife and daughter.”

— “Huh?” You and Nahida ask. You blush as she looks on in bewilderment.

— Scara laughs. “You didn’t think I’d let you go now that I have you, did you?” He grabs you by your waist and kisses you passionately.

— “So why am I your kid?” Nahida pouts.

— “You’re too small to be my mom, or aunt. And you rely too much on my wife to feed you to be a little sister.”

— “I’m older than you!” She pouts again.

— “Now sweetie, that’s no way to talk to your father. Go and play with your mutt Alhaitham and let me be alone with my wife.” He teases as her shoo’s her away.

— “But-” he slams the door on her face.

— “Scara!” He kisses you again beg you can berate him. He picks you up and brings you to your shared bedroom, where he tosses you onto the bed.

— “Now how about we give her a little brother or sister.” He whispered seductive as he crawled on top of you.

— He kisses you deeply as if trying to devour you. “I love you.” He pants between kisses.

— “I love you too. Happy birthday Babygirl.”

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Nine

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Don’t light yourself on fire to keep others warm.

Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of grief, angst, strained relationships, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues.  

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Apologies for the shorter chapter , we are rapidly approaching the end to this series and tbh im both excited and sad ! Im so so so happy i am back to writing and not dying over assignments , but i dont want this series to end ! Ive enjoyed the journey to get here and im so excited to continue with more ! Happy pride month besties !

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus @jackierose902109

Masterlist

Carmy stood in front of the stove as it caught on fire, frozen. 

When this happened, you were chopping vegetables to take the slack off of Tina and Ebraheim as they worked the other stations. It was only when you heard Tina yell that you turned around and saw the fire. 

“Shit!!” she yelled, rushing around to try and grab something to put it out. 

You rushed around, throwing down the knife onto the metal table with a loud clang, before running over. 

“Carmen!” you screeched across the kitchen, yelping as you stumbled into a metal table and felt the corner dig into your body.

Someone grabbed the fire extinguisher and blew it onto the fire, surrounding the kitchen and your vision with large white clouds as Richie walked over to Carmy. 

You watched with bated breath as Richie smacked him, finally getting him back down to earth. 

“Sorry…” Carmy murmured, blinking rapidly before walking away.

You turned to Tina and Richie, mouth open in confusion. They both shrugged and shook their heads, moving away from the burnt and smoking stove. 

With a sigh, you went back to your station, wiping your hands on the apron that you had put on earlier. You took a deep breath, about to turn to go talk to Carmy when you felt someone approach you from behind.

“Come here real quick,” Richie murmured into your ear, gently grasping your hand to lead you out of the kitchen and to the lockers, where Carmy was sitting on the bench.

He led you to stand in front of Carmy before he grabbed a piece of paper from behind a locker. He then sat down next to him, handing him the piece of paper and murmuring softly to him, something that was too low for you to hear.

Your eyebrows wrinkled, watching Richie get up and leave, not even glancing at you as he did so. As you turned around, your eyes locked with Carmy’s bright blue ones, the bags under them enunciating the blue in his iris. 

Carmy then glanced down at the piece of paper, his fingers near shaking as he held onto it. He then looked up at you again, almost as if asking for permission to open it. You swallowed the lump in your throat, swiftly moving to sit down where Richie was. 

The two of you exchanged looks at one another, mouths opening to breathe raggedly. Carmy’s hand twitched, before it slid across his lap and over onto yours. The roughness of his hand slid up against yours, slotting into a tight grip as he held the card on his lap for the two of you to see. 

You could feel your leg bouncing, eyes locked on the wrinkled envelope. Beside you, Carmy’s almost dissociating as he stares at it, making you jump when he suddenly flipped it over to reveal some scratchy writing you instantly recognized… and that made your heart drop to the floor. 

‘To Carmy

From Mikey’

You took in a loud, haggard breath, making yourself wince as it came out much louder than anticipated. But Carmy didn’t react, just continuing squeezing your hand in his as he continued to stare at the writing. The same writing you would trace at night, trying desperately to read between the love letters Mikey wrote you, to see if some hidden cry for help was there you didn’t see. 

But the letters in front of you two spelled out nothing in code or in secret. 

Carmy rose, letting your hand slide from his grip and fall limply onto your lap. Your head whipped up as you watched him walk away, quick strides moving toward the back of the kitchen.

You scrambled to your feet, eyes already burning with tears as you tried to follow after Carmy. The words were caught in your throat, desperately wanting him to stay and let you be there for him while he opened it but a warm grip on your arm stopped you right as Carmy let the door shut behind him. 

With a grunt, you were swiveled around and yanked into someone’s body. You collided with them, groaning softly before softening at the smell of cologne and cigarettes, with a hint of fruity perfume that you could probably only get from a claire’s. 

Richie wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head before ushering you into the office. 

With the door closed and privacy secured, you leaned into the desk, arms holding you up from the edge of the wood. Richie sighed, turning to look at you with his head hung down. 

He reached forward, gently cupping your cheek to guide you to look up at him. 

“I know you want nothing more than to just… run to him and make sure he stays but… but he will be okay. You will be okay. He will come back…” he murmurs, voice hoarse but with a softness to it as he spoke to you. 

You would only weakly nod and swallow the growing knot in your throat. 

As Richie began to turn away, you found your voice. 

“...How do I know?”

He paused, one hand on the door handle. 

You stood up, moving to sit down on the chair and stare at the messy desk in front of you. 

“How do I know he will return?”

You stared at some of the familiar scratching writing on the papers pinned and taped onto the wall. Some invoices, some notes, some showing urgency, others saying to not worry about it. 

It was both a rhetorical question and one you were asking yourself. How do you know Carmy would return? How do you know he wouldn’t disappear from your life in a matter of seconds and carefully planned actions?

Richie just sighed, shoulders slumping as he moved to look at you. His steel blue eyes scanned your face, watching as your teeth chewed into your already bruised bottom lip. 

You began swaying in the chair, twisting from side to side as you traced along scribbles on the papers forgotten on the desk. Your hands gripped the seat beside you, your knuckles almost turning white as you did so. 

Richie reached out, grabbing the back of the chair to stop you from moving, making your head snap up to look at him as he stood beside you. 

He crouched down at eye level, taking a deep breath. You took a deep breath too. He took another one. You took another one too. He took a third. You followed suit. After the fifth one, he slowly said your name.

“...yes?” you responded, voice barely above a whisper. 

“No one is going to leave you anymore.”

All you could do was blink. 

He grabbed your face in his hands once again and pressed another kiss to your forehead, resting his own on there. You both closed your eyes, listening to each other take slow breaths at the same time. 

“Don’t panic, we’re here together, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, the two of you fixed your aprons and walked out, glancing at each other as you walked out and headed towards your respective stations. 

Fak’s voice echoed in the front, triggering a reaction from Richie as he stomped over to see what he was going on about. You just giggled to yourself, finding a small smile making its way onto your previously frowning face as you heard the echoing voices of the two men beginning to bicker. 

Someone moved beside you, their hands deftly moving to gather your already chopped vegetables into the bin in front of you. They gently bumped their hip into you, a smile greeting you as you looked over at them. 

“Thank you, mami.” Tina’s warm voice whispered to you as she took the bin to her station. 

You watched her organize, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest as she moved artfully around the kitchen, not once taking her focus off her work even as Ebraheim began talking to her or as Richie and Fak’s voices got a bit louder. 

You turned back to your station, stretching your head from side to side with a renewed sense of focus, before grasping your knife to continue dicing once again. 

You only got about halfway through filling a second bin when the backdoor swung open and shut, making you instinctively freeze and whip your head around to look at the racing body that came back inside. 

You jolted a bit when he glanced around, pausing when he saw you staring. He just stared for a second, before jerking his head and moving toward the fridge. 

Instantly, you followed. 

The fridge door clicked behind you as you watched Carmy weave around, hands guiding him along the shelves as he reached to grab something. 

“Pop quiz for you, chef… what’s the recipe for family meal spaghetti?”

The first ingredient was already on your lips right as he finished his sentence.

[ivymarquis]

WIP Wednesday

A bit of a character study/me skipping ahead/dynamic fun stuff etc?

This is so far down the line for the price x single!mom verse it's not even funny, but I wanted to write it out and see how I feel about it when we actually get to this point in the fic. John goes a wee bit off the fucking deep end :)

Y'all know the drill! No pressure, feel free to post a snippet of something you're working on.

“You won’t always be around, you know.” Michael has apparently decided he’s not partial to being above ground anymore.

The smoke from John’s cigar coils in him before he exhales slowly. Realistically he knows that Love is a sore spot for him and he’s willing to do anything for her, and yet he’s still caught off guard by the depth of the rage that washes over him in an all consuming fire.

“Would you like to clarify that for me?” Wouldn’t want to go flying off the handle after all if this is simply a misunderstanding.

“You talk a lot of shit for a guy who fucks off the second your phone rings. That clarify things for you? I don’t know what you or the blonde did to fuck with those results, but I know Sam is my fucking kid and I’ll be damned if you twats are going to get in my way.”

As Michael throws down his inane gauntlet, John exhales his now-final drag on the cigar, eyes flicking across his surroundings to gauge who is looking.

The man sure has a knack for picking the worst fucking spot to threaten the family of a man whose job is to work outside the constraints of red tape. They’re just secluded enough that Kate can see them if she looks but no one else can. And Kate certainly won’t give a fuck about what John’s about to do.

Without doubt, John knows that Michael expects to buffalo his way through this conversation and stalk off feeling he’s done something. Because the average citizen cannot do what John is about to- wouldn’t even consider it.

It’s the sheer confidence that John won’t put his hands on Michael that lets him snatch the other man up by his collar and shove him further out of sight from any prying eyes.

He opens his mouth to protest John’s grip on him, the perfect opportunity for him to shove the smoldering end of his cigar into the man’s mouth.

John has just enough impulse control to not extinguish the damn thing on the back of his throat, settling for the knowledge that the flurry of movement has knocked the ash loose into the other man’s throat.

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page before we have this little talk,” John snarls. “I can be on the other side of the world and it doesn’t fucking matter, am I clear? If I catch wind of you sniffing around when you think I’m distracted, you’re going to find out exactly what I am capable of for a guy who fucks off the second his phone rings.”

John pulls out the cigar and shoves the other man away from him. “If we have to have this conversation again, I’ll be shoving the barrel of my service weapon in your mouth next and painting the fucking walls, understood? There will be a point where I decide you’re more hassle alive than dead.”

He’s not mollified in the slightest by the way Michael’s legs shake and he suddenly can’t look John in the eye- all the bravado sucked out of him with the realization that John is not beholden to the same rules he is.

“You’re fucking insane,” he sputters, hunching over and trying to cough up the ash.

“If you’ve got any sense to you, you’ll stay off my shit list.” John advises before tossing the remains of the cigar in the bin.

“Now if you’ll excuse me- I’m taking the missus and the rugrat out for lunch.”

@direwombat @gaqalesqua @strangefable @glossysoap @kneelingshadowsalome @deadbranch @bunnyreaper @mortuarywriting @391780 @divine--serenity @la-grosse-patate @g0dspeeed @luminousbeings-crudematter @ceilidho

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Stargazing

Last day for @hphm-ship-week and what a blast this has been. Thank you for hosting this wonderful challenge. For the last day we come full circle in this mini three part fic with Felix Rosier and Talia.

Trigger Warning: mild swearing, smoking, drinking, memories of past war

The fire in the middle of the camp was almost out, a few embers still trying to power through. The men were back in their tents after loud talks and alcohol, happy to catch up with Talia. As people started going to bed, their cheeks red and belies hurting from laughing so much, silence slowly tried to creep back into the camp.

But Felix did not go back to his tent. After a quick small hike up some rocks, he just stood there with a bottle from his expensive stash and a fresh pack of cigarettes, looking up at the stars, tracking their known patterns with his eyes as he soaked up the calm atmosphere.

Talia saw him retreat, making a poor excuse at that of being too tired, but decided to let him be for a while longer, until the crowd slowly dissolved. It was easier to talk to him when it was just the two of them.

“Room for one more up there?”

He wanted to ask how she knew he was up there, but he did not. Let the question roll inside his head and then dissolve like the smoke leaving his lips. Nodding, he watched her carefully make her way up on the rocks, taking his hand when he offered it, to make the final leap.

Sitting down on the cool rock, she breathed in and exhaled loudly, a sigh forming from her lungs, eyes closing as she relaxed.

It was odd in a sense, seeing her at the Sanctuary once more. She had hated it so much when she first came. Everything about it made her wrinkle her nose and she would be shut in for days on end in her tent. Away from the men, the elements of nature, the changing seasons.

“I missed you.” He wanted to say, as if the power of those words was enough to bring her back, make her stay, restore the fragile balance of their lives. Instead, he took a swing from the bottle and handed it over for her to drink as well.

He said his piece, long ago, in a letter before he went to join the Death Eaters. No amount of words would be enough to make Talia Crane stay where she did not wish to be.

“How are you getting along?” he finally asked as to not drag the silence between them any longer.

Tipping the bottle back to him, she leaned in, grabbing the cigarette from his hand, smirking “Next question Felix.”

“That bad huh?” he scoffed “How is everyone?”

Taking a drag, she watched the smoke drifting off into the distance “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, I happen to know a great deal of people.”

Felix frowned, then set the bottle between them. Maybe he wanted to know about how others were doing, maybe he did not. He was just trying to keep the conversation going. Because as much as he loved the silence, he did not like the silence between them. So he needed to speak, to say something, get something out of her.

Yet he just shrugged and asked another question “What are you really doing here?”

“What, am I banned from the sanctuary now?”

He glanced over at her, eyes wide before he narrowed them, noting she was just taking the piss “Sod off Talia. I am not in the mood.”

Her expression changed, smile faltering. Extinguishing the cigarette she stole, she extended her hand out, fingers raking through his hair “Talk to me Felix, tell me how I can help.”

“This is not on you.” He replied far too harshly, but it was out, he said it and he meant it. It was not on her. This was not something she could fix, she could not bloody fix him.

She continued to play with his hair, the sensation relaxing him “I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try. I know you don’t say much in your letters, or don’t want to, but I hope you know I’ll listen.” He turned his head to look at her, her eyes softening “And I hope you know I came here for you.”

“Because Charlie put you up to it.” He said taking her hand from his hair. He wanted to hold it, hold her, but he reluctantly let go.

“Was honestly hoping you would take some vacation and come back. See to the Rosier house, but you always did manage to evade the subject even when asked a direct question.”

“That is not my home.”

She offered a small nod “I know, I said house, not home.”

“I have enough money, I do not need it.”

“I know that too.”

And then he said it “I do not want to go back to England soon. I am…” the word refused to form, but he forced it out nonetheless “ashamed.”

He half expected her to say he had nothing to be ashamed of, he knew people have done much worse in times of war. At least he had the guts to stand up for something, against them, he still had that to fuel his pride. He then expected her to pity him, but that was something she was not familiar with when it came to humans.

“No one asks survivors what they had to do in order to stay alive. No one cares or they simply don’t want to know because they are well aware it’s fucking gruesome. They called us heroes when we were nothing but broken pieces of who we once were and we might never recover.” She took his hand into hers, force behind her eyes making him look at her. See her once more, for she was just as broken and beaten “We force each day, in and out like some sort of repentance. Because we can’t fail, not now after all that we survived right?”

Felix felt his chest tightening as he listened to her.

“I’m not forcing you, I just want to make sure you know I’m here if you need me. When you need me.”

He wanted to smile at her, to reassure her, tell Talia it would all be alright. That he was strong on his own and he would pull through. But her hand in his was like a safe line and once she would let go and go back to England, she would once again be far away in a land he once called home, now just a bad dream.

“I know all that Talia.” Gently caressing her hand, he looked up at the sky “But the ways I want and need you are different from your wants and desires. They always have been. You so close, right in front of me, but at the same time so far away, unobtainable.”

“Is that what I’m to you, unobtainable?”

He still had not let go of her hand and Talia did not pull away from his touch, but Felix still nodded “Just like the stars in the sky. Even up here, so close to them, they are still so far away.”

She suppressed a giggle, but he could still find the mirth in her voice when she spoke “But I’m here, not up there.”

“For now.” Letting go of her hand, he busied himself with the bottle “But I am not like Talbott, I will not force you one place or another.” There it was. What he did not wish to say, still out, his loathing for the man that held Talia’s heart evident.

“What does Talbott have anything to do with anything? You must be barking mad Felix, certainly.” She leaned forward, silent for a moment, before laughter erupted from her “He left for Hogwarts last fall to be a professor, he’s not in London anymore.”

His brows knit together, Felix trying to recall their letters. There was most definitely few talk about Talbott, however he just figured she wanted to spare him from hearing about his latest endeavors.

“And trust me Felix, no one can force me to do anything anymore. I decide. Free of my parents, may they rot in Hell or wherever they went. Free to do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Poetic.” He finally laughed.

“Always have been, you’re just too much of a snob to appreciate it.”

Giving the bottle to her, he shook his head “Perhaps, or perhaps I am still trying to figure you out Talia.”

She looked up at the stary sky, smiling “There’s time, we have all the time in the world Felix.” Resting her head against his shoulder, the silence suddenly didn’t appear as loud as they sat under the blanket of stars, eyes set on them, waiting for one to fall through the dark sky, a wish towards something better.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

That's Christmas to Me

On the ninth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A family Christmas with glasses!Joshy!

Christmas Song Pairing: "That's Christmas to Me" by Pentatonix

Trope: Meet the Parents/Family Christmas

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.4k

~~~

“Do you remember the first time you met my parents?” 

Josh’s voice was low and playful in the kitchen of your home, and his question drew the combined giggles of Karen, Kelly, Jita, and Jake, who were all gathered around the island as well.

Oh god. Not this again.

“It has been years,” you complained quietly, pouring more creamer into your coffee. “When is that gonna die out?”

And it had been years. So many that you and Josh had since gotten married, bought a house, settled down, had some kids — and yet no one seemed too eager to drop that very first Christmas.

“It leaves an impression when you light the tree on fire, dear,” Kelly chuckled. He’d been the one to put it out, and he was also the one to never let you live it down. “You’ll have to forgive us for holding it against you.”

“Are we talking about when Y/N ruined Christmas?”

A new whispered voice entered the kitchen, and Sam quietly padded into the space, eyes sleepy. None of the boys were used to getting up this early, but it was the only way to get any semblance of adult peace on this particular day, so they all sacrificed some sleep when Karen and Kelly had asked if you’d all get up early for more time together.

Josh laughed a little bit, the faux-discontent on your face that Josh had derived your nickname from. “Aww, Kitten,” he cooed, “don’t tell me you’re still embarrassed.” 

You didn’t react to his arms snaking around you, resisting a smile that threatened to break your character. Embarrassed? No. Exasperated? Yes.

“I’m always surprised that it was the tree that sticks with you all,” you sighed. Desperate to steer the topic away from the tree disaster, you threw Danny under the bus (sorry Danny) – he and his family had been invited like they were every year, but this time, they had family flying in from out of state and were coming over for New Year’s, instead. “You’re either not remembering or refusing to acknowledge the fact that Danny ate all the good chocolate truffles that your grandmother sent in and then blamed it on Sam.”

Sam, of course, scoffed immediately and muttered, “I haven’t forgotten…”

Jake chuckled, clearing his throat a bit before rumbling out, “Yeah, but she sends those every year, and every year, someone inevitably eats the last one before someone else gets to have one. That’s an ongoing battle.”

Jita grimaced at your sympathetically, but agreed with Jake. “He’s right. They really did do that every year. Josh tried to trick me into eating the last one during one of my first Christmases with them.”

“Didn’t work,” sighed Josh, chin on your shoulder. “The tree thing was the first of its kind.”

Dammit, Josh.

“It was Ronnie’s faulty lighting!” you said, maintaining the argument that you’d had since the day it happened. The cord had been moonlighting as a ribbon and was foolishly plugged into a 100 year old outlet strip that offered no protection when you tripped on it and accidentally jerked it out of its place where it had been overheating anyways. 

Either way, the outlet sparked up and caught a branch of their live fir tree on fire, the fire alarm had gone off, and a third of the tree burned before Kelly managed to put it out with the extinguisher while Danny had followed with a popcorn bowl filled with water. A burned tree and soggy presents – Sam had called you Y/N the Grinch Wench for the entire rest of your time there until you threatened to leave and Josh gave him a Kelly-level stink eye.

“It was so not my fault!” Ronnie herself ambled in next, meaning that the last of the adults that had been able to come to Christmas this year were all awake before the kids. Karen gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her a mug of coffee, wishing her a Merry Christmas that was echoed in a whisper by everyone else. “It was…ah shit, who was I dating at the time?” she cursed, trying to think back so long ago.

“Denny,” Sam supplied, “because we joked that Danny was the superior name afterwards.”

“Of course you did,” Ronnie sighed, smiling into her drink. It was true, after all, and Denny was an ex for a reason. “Denny was the one who plugged it in that morning.”

Josh tightened his hold on you and kissed your hair, obviously feeling the nostalgia creep in from all those years ago, so early in your relationship. And look at where you were now — surrounded by his family, who had quickly become yours as well, your children sleeping in the next room (though you assumed it wouldn’t stay that way for long), and the love you held having only matured like fine wine.

You sighed, finally settling back into him, and accepted his touch like you usually did, melting into him like warm batter. “We hadn’t even said our first ‘I love you’s at that point,” you said, turning your head to look at Josh. “I can’t believe you kept me around after that.”

He chuckled in your ear and whispered, “I still love you, by the way,” which sent a shiver through you. “My family would have invited you back afterwards whether I kept you around or not, though,” he sighed, this time loud enough for the family to hear.

Jake laughed, a little too loud, and flinched away when Ronnie smacked him on the arm, shushing him. Still, he grinned cheekily at you and said, “Yeah, I don’t think we’d had a Christmas as entertaining as that one since Josh and I woke up really early and hid the presents.”

“Correction: hid everyone else’s presents,” Sam pouted, his voice still rough. His always stayed that way after waking up the longest. “And they told Ron and I that Santa had to leave early and decided that our presents weren’t as important.”

You could hear Josh’s squeak of a bitten back laugh through his hands, which he’d jerked back to cover his mouth with at the memory.  He couldn’t hold it all back, though, and his giggles escaped between his fingers. “That was cruel of us,” he admitted, though no apology was to be found in his tone. 

“And also the reason we got rid of the Santa tradition,” Karen remarked. 

That had been one thing you noticed that first Christmas; you were all full-blown adults, but you were used to your own parents still signing notes with ‘Santa’ and referencing him when talking about gifts. But Josh had explained that in order to encourage thankfulness and mindfulness (and apparently good behavior), they’d abolished the idea of Santa and brought each child out gift shopping for the others, then put their own names and any gifts sent in by aunts and uncles and grandparents on the rest.

It was a tradition that you’d carried over with your own kids, much to Kelly and Karen’s delight, as it gave them an excuse to gather the entire family and all the grandkids for a big Christmas every year.

And speaking of…

“PRESENT TIME!”

All the cousins that had decided to have a sleeping-bag dogpile sleepover in one guest room came running out, barefooted and bed-headed, after their rousing voices floated out of the bedroom in the hall.

Saying goodbye to the peace of the early morning, Josh gave you one more squeeze before he opened his arms to accept your youngest, who’d snuck into your bed in the middle of the night but stayed asleep until her siblings and cousin came to wake her up.

Your little Cindy Lou Who.

All the other kids had a quick hug and kiss from Grandma, Grandpa, and all their aunts and uncles, they all lined up around the tree, talking and babbling excitedly to each other. Both Jake’s kid and yours were around the same age, and they were each motioning with their hands at the presents they thought were theirs while your younger middle child thought that every gift was theirs, and had to be corralled by Ronnie away from the tissue paper peeking out of some bags.

“Well, Christmas has officially begun,” Josh huffed, coming up next to you once your youngest has wiggled down to get to the rest of the family to watch the unfolding chaos as the grandparents dealt out gifts. “That’s for sure.”

You slinked an arm around his waist, reveling in the way he immediately responded by wrapping his body around you, the rim of his glasses digging into your skull not even bothering you. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

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[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Maniac [Epilogue]

Monologue

Ever since that day,

the treatment I received,

improved by quite a bit.

While Yuuri-san was still there,

to take care of everything I needed,

it no longer felt like I was being watched,

around the clock.

That being said, 

I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was free to go wherever I wanted.

However, I could not help but worry,

about how Ayato-kun was doing. 

So while Yuuri-san was not around,

I quietly snuck towards the dungeon. 

ー The scene starts in the dungeon

Yui: Ayato-kun!

Ayato: ...Chichinashi! You made it out alive!

Yui: ...Yeah. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble. 

Ayato: Ahー I’m glad. I thought you had been burnt to a crisp. 

Right after I stopped hearin’ your voice, that Yuuri dude showed up to extinguished the fire. 

It’s just...I had no idea what was goin’ on inside your cell because the wall was in the way.

The fuck happened to you? 

Yui: Well...

Apparently Kino-kun ultimately gave Yuuri-san the order to come save me. 

Ayato: Hm. Kino did, huh...? 

Yui: I honestly don’t understand why he suddenly decided to save me when he’s the one who started the fire...

( I honestly have no clue what goes on in that guy’s head... )

Ayato: ...And? Did you talk to Kino afterwards? 

Yui: No, we haven’t. I haven’t even seen him ever since. 

Kino-kun...He won’t leave his own room at all after all. 

( He’s been cooped up in there the whole time... )

Ayato: ...Then why don’t you go see him? 

Yui: Eh? That’s...

( Why would I...? )

Ayato: God. I noticed this before as well but...

I just can’t help but feel that when it comes to Kino...you just become more stubborn than usual, or somethin’... 

Yui: ...

Ayato: And Kino as well, he’ll use every opportunity given to him to bother you. You should just ignore it.

Yui: Right. I know that myself too but...

Ayato: See? There you go again. 

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: In other words, you can’t help but want to look out for him, don’t you?

Yui: Eh!?

Ayato: You know what the two of you remind me of? A married couple having a fight.

Yui: A-A married couple...

( Is that how it came across...? )

( I mean, it’s true that I have a hard time letting it go. )

( But that’s only because I fear what he might do if he’s given free reign... ) 

Ayato: Haah...Why aren’t you saying anything? I guess you weren’t aware of yourself at all, huh? 

Well, that’s fine. But try to put yourself in my position having all of that rubbed in my face. 

Yui: ...We’re not rubbing it into anyone’s faces!

ー Kino approaces them

Kino: ...Hm. Seems like you two are having a great time? 

Yui: ...Kino-kun...

Kino: Sure, I told Yuuri that he can let you roam around the house freely...

But while you are out here talking with this guy, isn’t there something you should tell me instead?

*Rustle rustle*

Kino: ...Come with me.

*Thud* 

Yui: Kyah...

Kino: Come, I said!

ー Kino drags her away

Ayato: ...

Monologue

The only reason why I saved her from the dungeon,

is for those powers.

Because she is Eve.

So I might need her in the near future. 

This whole time,

I’ve convinced myself of that again and again.

I thought it was case closed. 

Yet, before I know it,

I realize that once again,

my mind has been occupied with thoughts of her. 

When I saw her,

talking with Ayato,

I could feel terribly dark feelings,

boil up inside of me. 

However, I did not feel the urge,

to kill her.

Instead, 

I wanted to get her away from Ayato,

as soon as possible. 

Lately, I feel as if I am becoming more and more of a mystery,

to myself. 

ー The scene shifts to Kino’s room

Yui: ...

Kino: Hm. Look who seems to be in a bad mood again...

( Even though she looked so happy talking to Ayato earlier... )

I went out of my way to save you when you were on the verge of death, you know? Isn’t there something you want to tell me?

Yui: ...Not really. I have nothing to say to you. 

Kino: ...

Yui: Besides...I don’t remember asking you to save me.

Kino: ...You really are a natural at making me upset, aren’t you? 

Yui: That isn’t my intention. 

I’m simply pointing out where I think you are wrong. 

Kino: ...And that’s exactly what pisses me off...ーー 

Yui: Yuuri-san told me about your childhood. 

Kino: ...Yuuri did? Che, he really shouldn’t have...

Who cares about the past? That no longer matters, does it? 

Yui: ...

Kino: Haah...Anyway, I’ll have to punish Yuuri for this later. Fufu...

Yui: ...Stop! Like I told you before, doing such things is pointless...

Kino: No. It does have a purpose. It only makes sense to get back at those who have done something which upset you, right?

Yui: ...But! Then you’ll be stuck in that vicious circle forever!

Kino: And what’s the problem with that? If you don’t want people getting back at you, then get strong.

Yui: ...

Kino-kun. You should know this better than anyone else, you know...?

That revenge only gives birth to more hatred...

What you are doing is no different from when the Ghouls used to take out their anger towards Demons on yーー

Kino: Silence!

...Then, let me ask you. Deep down, you want to get revenge as well, don’t you?

Yui: ...Me?

Kino: I mean, you’ve been at the mercy of those Vampires this whole time, haven’t you? 

They unreasonably drank your blood, regardless of whether you consented or not...

The reason why you haven’t gotten back at them for that, is because you lack the power to do so. 

I’m convinced that if you were to somehow get strong enough to be able to fight back against them, you would seek revenge as well!

Yui: Well...

Kino: ( ...Exactly. You want to get revenge as well, don’t you? )

( There isn’t anyone in this World who would be okay with always getting shit on. )

( If you don’t want to get the short end of the stick, you have to get stronger and work your way to the top. )

( Overwhelming powers, so nobody will be able to stand against you... )

Yui: I wouldn’t do that.

Kino: ...

Yui: Not once have I felt the need to get revenge on Ayato-kun or the others.

I’ll admit that I am powerless. Perhaps that is why the thought has never crossed my mind. 

However...Even if were to get stronger somehow, I don’t believe I would use those powers in such a way. 

Because I know just how meaningless that would be...

Kino: There’s just no way!

*Thud*

Yui: ...!

Kino: I’m sick and tired of hearing about your idealistic morals. I know you don’t actually feel that way deep down...

Yui: ...

Kino: Even right now, you’d love to get back at me, wouldn’t you? That’s why...

( You glare at me like that. )

...

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ...Kino-kun...?

Kino: ...Honestly, there’s no talking to you. I’m kind of exhausted.

There’s just no way you could ever understand what I’m trying to say...

Yui: ...

Kino: There isn’t a single person in this World who understands me. 

...Of course, I’ve known that since forever. 

Yui: ...

Kino: No matter what you say, I shall get my revenge...

I will grow even stronger, and have the whole World bow down at my feet.

I won’t let anyone get in my way...Never...

ー He walks towards the door

Yui: Wait!

*Rustle*

Monologue

Before I knew it,

I had latched onto Kino-kun’s back. 

Because I had noticed,

that even though his words,

were even more aggressive than usual,

on the flip side, his voice quivered ever so slightly.

I felt that he was lonely. 

Ever since the day he was abandoned on this land,

he has been all by himself,

living off the hatred he felt,

towards the Ghouls, towards his Father...

as well as everything and everyone else in this world. 

I am sure that I have absolutely no idea,

how painful that must have been. 

Perhaps he is right,

and there truly is nobody in this world,

who can understand him.

However...Even so,

I simply could not turn my back to him. 

I did not want for him,

to have to feel lonely any longer.

Kino: ...What are you playing at? Let me go...

*Rustle* 

Yui: ...Hey, Kino-kun. 

I...don’t want to give up. 

If possible, I’d like to get to know you better.

Because I believe that you’ll never understand what I’m trying to tell you otherwise... 

Kino: ...

Yui: That’s why I won’t back down.

Until I get you understand...what is right and what is wrong. 

Kino: ...You really are one hell of an annoying woman...

Yui: ( ...Perhaps I am. )

( Maybe Ayato-kun was right...and I worry about him too much. )

( But can you blame me? ) 

( I mean, it’s stronger than myself... )

Kino: ...Be my guest?

ー The scene shifts to black

Yuuri: ...

Kino, he...accepted her...

...Then, I’m sure now...

...

ー The scene shifts to the Church

???: Kino, that fiend...He got rid of the Familiar we sent to him, huh...?

Fufu, I see...I suppose he has finally declared war upon us...

Well, I knew this would happen sooner rather than later. In the end, he is a Vampire as well...

It was obvious he only wanted to join forces temporarily. From the very beginning, I never trusted him. 

Male Clergyman A: However...Sakamaki Ayato is currently on his side. 

???: Well, you do have a point. I believe he assumed that he would be able to manipulate us by using that man as bait... 

...However, I will not fall for his schemes that easily. 

Kino...I believe it would be best to turn him into one of our loyal watchdogs as soon as possible. 

...Right? Don’t you agree with me as well?

Richter?: ...

Even as a watchdog, his descent is a definite plus.

In that regard, I feel sorry for Kino for being related to Karlheinz. If we can get our hands on Ayato and his brothers as well, then... 

The Demon World will be ours at last...Fufu...Fufufufu... 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[rebeccasteventaylor]

Bless me, for I am going into my indepth, rambling analytic rewatch of Episode 6..:

Rather nice to see Gabriel being Aziraphale’s assistant as he very competently sets up a trap, explains things to Nina and Maggie and faces down Shax. It’s rather sexy.

Shop is full of electric candles and fire extinguishers. I don’t know if this is down to Crowley or Aziraphale but between them they’re doing everything to make sure this bookshop never burns again.

Considering how traumatic Crowley’s last visit to heaven was, he’s enjoying this rather too much!

You go Maggie! Argue with the demon! That you don’t seem that surprised about for some reason…

Maggie had brothers? Not has? Had? Past tense?

Aziraphale is very good at this coolly heroic thing. It’s very sexy. I wish Crowley could see this.

Did Aziraphale, by opening that portal, make it possible for the Metatron to come to Earth?

Muriel is so lonely. No wonder she’s imprinted on Aziraphale and Crowley.

So Crowley, when an Angel, was high enough to get access to confidential records. What else did he learn? When Aziraphale told him about the 6000 year thing, did he go and look?

There’s so much pain on Aziraphale’s face when he talks about the book shop fire. But he wasn’t there when it happened, so all that pain comes from his memory of Crowley’s pain when telling him. Imagine a late night conversation when it’s all over. And Aziraphale asks exactly what happened to the bookshop. And Crowley tells him everything - including running into a burning bookshop to find Aziraphale. And the next morning the shop is full of electric candles and fire extinguishers (sorry, quick digression into fanfic thoughts there)

Aziraphale doesn’t really seem bothered about being described as Crowley’s emotional support Angel. But the irony of Gabriel/Jim being puzzled by Shax shaming Aziraphale over eating and sushi when the last person to do that was Gabriel.

Well now it makes sense that Gabriel is quite happy to be cast down to hell.

Aw, Crowley giving Muriel a little companionable shoulder punch!

Isn’t that halo thing from the film script?

What damage did Aziraphale do to himself when he removed the halo?

Crowley just assumes that Muriel is coming back with him. He has to invite Saraqael specifically.

Ok, in Gabriel’s box is stored two lost Shakespeare plays (Goldiggers 1589 and Robin Hoode) mentioned in the novel Good Omens. Also some kind of loan agreement in 1913 with the postmaster of New Cumnock, or rather his late estate. New Cumnock is a town in Scotland and there really was a postmaster called John Gibson. I’ve no idea why Aziraphale has a loan agreement with his estate though.

The fly going into Gabriel’s eye is disgusting.

So it seems the whole Ineffable Bureaucracy thing does start in canon as it started in fanon - the little conversation about how difficult Aziraphale and Crowley just made their jobs at the airfield.

The more Gabriel talks to Beelzebub, the less of a dickhead he is. And he didn’t know what music was until Beelzebub told him.

The songs on the jukebox are Mull of Kintyre, Dignity from Deacon Blue, Daddy’s Gone by Glasvegas, Letter from America by the Proclaimers, Shang a Lang by Bay City Rollers, News from Heaven by Runrig and Obladi Oblada. The film in the background is Spirit of St Louis. The song chosen (before it changes) is Letter from America - where Warlock is now, i presume.

Right, if you be been following my ‘S3 is based on Powell/Pressburger film A Matter of Life and Death’ theory, there’s more proof here - in The Resurrections pub in their last meeting, there are ‘Pressburger’ advertisements on the wall all around.

Oh god, Gabriel’s face when he sees Beelzebub - such love. (I can’t believe we got canon Ineffable Bureaucracy!)

Gabriel and Beelzebub finding something that mattered more than choosing sides, in Aziraphale’s bookshop, in front of Aziraphale! And he grasps Crowley’s shoulder and yet in ten minutes he’s talking about sides again and WHAT THE HELL DID THE METATRON DO TO HIM.

Oh, Crowley grinning at his Angel taking charge.

Muriel has been absorbed in a book all this time. She hasn’t noticed a things

Oh, the way Aziraphale looks at Crowley when he mentions Alpha Centauri. There’s guilt there.

Aziraphale watching Beelzebub and Gabriel in love and clearly thinking that angels and demons can be in love, and then looking lovingly at Crowley and if Crowley had kissed him then he would have melted into his arms.

Aziraphale resits the Metratron at first. I’m not sure if there’s anything in the coffee but buying it for him is an act of kindness. It’s classic coercive control - when they expect cruelty, lead with kindness. I bet Nina’s Lindsay was just like that at first.

And the Metatron glares at Crowley as the one person who could possibly break his control of Aziraphale.

Oh, Crowley planning is time and breakfast at the Ritz.

Crowley given Muriel Crow Road and tidying up the bookshop and the romantic music is playing and he’s expecting a happy ending to all this!

Oh. Nina calls Maggie Angel! And it’s Nina and Maggie pointing out that Aziraphale and Crowley don’t ever talk about they really think.

Aziraphale acts excited but deep in his heart of hearts he knows Crowley won’t like this.

The Metatron is recruiting Aziraphale because he knows if he left Aziraphale on Earth with Crowley they’d fight whatever plans he has. And he tempts Aziraphale with the one thing that would work - redemption for Crowley. He’d never have to see Crowley dragged down to hell for punishment. He’d never have to see the angels erase Crowley from the book of life. The Metatron is offering the one thing Aziraphale wants - Crowley’s safety. Even if it costs Aziraphale everything.

And Aziraphale still cannot get rid of the idea that Heaven is the good guys. He didn’t see Gabriel’s trial. He didn’t see his own trial. He hasn’t seen all the things Crowley has, and what he did see, they’ve convinced him is his own fault, not theres. Think about those people who keep going back to an abusive home, because they think home is where they should be and if it’s wrong, it’s their fault, not home’s.

I can’t bear Crowley’s crying! It breaks my heart.

‘Nothing lasts forever’ I bet thats what the Metatron said to Aziraphale. This all feels like the abusive family dragging him back with the ‘it’ll be different this time’ and ‘we’ll listen to you this time’ and ‘you don’t want to break up the family do you?’ line. Poor, abused Aziraphale. He was so close to getting away.

‘No nightingales’ No happy ending. No ‘us’.

Aziraphale does sink into the kiss for a moment. There’s a moment where he grasps Crowley. Crowley almost breaks the Metatron’s programming.

But that ‘I forgive you’ is nasty. He spits it out as if Crowley is vile. I don’t think Aziraphale means it; but he’s so torn between the life he thought he wanted and the life with Crowley and he’s taking it out on the only person he’s allowed to be angry with - Crowley.

You know the fact that there is a kiss, that Crowley wanted to kiss and Aziraphale responded for a moment, makes me think we’ll get a more loving, gentler kiss inS3

Aziraphale touching the lips still tingling with Crowley’s kiss, taking in the last touch from him, and then deciding that’s it,he’s made his choice and if Crowley has rejected him, he’ll go back to heaven where they want him and be a good Angel. (I still can’t believe we got a kiss)

‘Anything you need to take with you’ and he looks out of the window to Crowley.

The Bentley plays ‘A Nightingale Sang’ because the Bentley ships and wants to remind Crowley he loves Aziraphale. There can be nightingales again.

The closer Aziraphale gets to heaven the less human he is, the more like the other angels he is.

Fuck me me that’s heartbreaking

[tigresslanzhu]

Let Us Discuss Meena In Sing 1!

As we all know, a common theme in the media is for someone to tell a massive lie and do whatever they can to make that lie true. It can be a tiring trope and if executed incorrectly, it can ruin your movie. This is where Sing (2016) comes in.

Obviously, Buster already has this plot line. Anyone who has ever seen this film knows that. The reason, in this case, is because of a typo accidentally made by his assistant’s oscillating fan (and a glass eye). All Buster wanted to offer as a prize was $1000 because that was all he had ($935, technically, but everything else he put in his chest could be sold to make up the difference), but it isn’t until he chose his six acts (which we all know is NOT how a singing competition works) that he found out that two extra zeros were added, promising a larger sum than it was originally.

So what does this have to do with Meena? Simple! After her stage fright took over during her audition, her grandfather told her to go back the next day and demand a second chance. I think we all know that Meena is too polite to “demand” but she does try to talk to Buster, who, naturally doesn’t pay her any attention until he asks her to pull a scenic cable and turn the house lights on. This is when he proposes being his stagehand for the singing competition.

Okay, I’m sure you want me to get to the point. She tries to explain her situation, but her mother and supportive neighbors don’t let her finish and assume that she’s part of the actual show, rather than assisting it. What I’m saying here is that Garth Jennings, the director of the film, Chris Meledanri the producer and the writers did a good job of not giving Meena a separate Liar’s Plotline, when it’s mostly Buster Moon we should focus on and empathize with. If we’re gonna focus on Meena, the focus should be on her overcoming her fears of performing.

If this was an alternate universe, Meena would definitely find some way to ruin everyone’s chances of performing or maybe even blackmail Buster into getting a slot. But we all know that this isn’t our darling Meena-Chan! And remember that the one incident involving Mike’s rehearsal being interrupted and Pete getting hurt had nothing to do with her (As Mike chose to assume), and again, because Miss Crawly’s glass eye is a Chevek’s Gun, or whatever you call these plot relevant running gags.

Throughout the film, our angel shows that not only is she capable of accepting that she is a stagehand, but she takes it rather seriously.

She lets the showman advise her, she has no problem following directions throughout and she even took time to know where all the fire extinguishers are located in case of emergencies (At least, I HOPE Buster had more than one extinguisher in his theater!)

Let’s also not forget that anyone else would have held a grudge against these performers that were selected, but not Meena! She’s very supportive of her fellow cast members.

“But, Artica, what about when Ash was about to go on stage and Meena was all ‘Good luck, Ash’? Wasn’t she jinxing her then? It’s actually bad luck to say good luck in a theater!” You may ask.

Wellllll…

I don’t think so. And I’ve got three theories as to why this is…

A) Meena probably didn’t know, or forgot.

B) Perhaps she wasn’t thinking, and was more focused on sincerity.

C) Since it was a rehearsal, maybe she didn’t think it mattered.

Bonus:

I’m sure you movie buffs know this already, but in Zootopia, Judy almost received this plot line of having to hide that she was a meter maid. Luckily, Disney made things different by the final film and it was less about covering up Judy’s true identity, but about proving that she is way more than people see her as. The entire film was a way to highlight the harmful effects of stereotypes, after all.

[creator-of-calm-queer-chaos]

Febuwhump day 9: Found Footage with Peter and the Avengers

For @febuwhump ‘s challenge! Day 9: Found footage with Peter and the Avengers

Ao3 stand alone: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44926849 

Ao3 as chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44655928/chapters/113042605

Timeline: god knows, fictional timeline pre civil war but Peter's there?? Nothing makes sense but we're going with it

TW: kidnapping, torture, broken ribs, cuts, all that fun stuff we love

Tony had mixed feelings about going back there. On one hand, Peter had made it back safe. On the other hand, burn the fuckers to the ground. Burning the fuckers to the ground won. 

Peter had arrived at the Avengers Tower at 2 in the morning about a week prior. He swung himself up to the open level and stumbled inside. Tony and Nat were sitting on the couch in an intense game of chess when he did. Immediately, they both sprang to their feet and ran over. Peter was wearing his suit but didn’t have his mask on, and was covered in blood and dirt. 

“What happened?!” Tony yelled, gently guiding him over to the elevator. Nat followed. 

“I… got kidnapped,” Peter panted, clutching his ribs. “Shit, that hurts.” 

Nat picked him up like a baby, and he let her. 

“Tell us later,” she said. “Oh my маленький паук, we’ll fix this.” 

They made their way to the med bay, and Nat placed him on the table. 

“JARVIS, scan him, what’s wrong?” Tony ordered. 

Immediately, a light was scanning Peter and information popped up on the screens. 

“It seems his ribs are fractured, his left ulna is broken, and there’s a rough gash on his right thigh, as well as several small things but those seem to be healing rapidly. I would suggest setting the ulna and cleaning the gash first,” JARVIS said. “Mr Parker, if you could remove your suit?” 

Peter did, and the night was filled with JARVIS and Nat stitching him up and setting his bone. Tony held his hand, and was almost more panicked. As Nat finished the stitches and JARVIS finished wrapping his leg in a cast, Peter heaved a sigh and looked at them. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you. As long as!” he added, wincing as Nat tied the knot. “As long as you don’t fly off there and murder them right now.” 

Grudgingly, Tony and Nat nodded. 

“Good. I was patrolling in upper Manhattan, like normal, but I was swinging over these alleyways that are trouble, and then someone threw a net over me.” 

“Like a fishing net?” Tony asked. Peter nodded. 

“Exactly! It was weighted, and they caught me mid-swing, so I fell on top of a rooftop. Those things are super hard to get out of -” he exhaled, and Nat handed him some water. He drank, then kept talking “- so I was tangled in it, trying to get out, when a group of people opened a door to the roof, I think, and they came out and one of them smashed my head with a fire extinguisher.” 

“Oof,” Tony muttered. 

“Yeah, so then I’m knocked out, but when I come to I’m in the boot of a trunk and it feels like we’re going down a really bumpy road. They hadn’t taken off my mask, though. And so Karen’s online, and she tells me where we are and then we pull over. There’s this butchery in Hunts Point but I guess it’s a front because when they opened the trunk and pulled me out the back door was open and it was full of people milling about tables and maps and stuff. So then Karen helps me get out of the cuffs they put me in and I do my thing and get away and… yeah,” Peter finished quietly. He had rushed through the last part, and something about it seemed off, but neither Nat nor Tony pressed. 

“We’ll get them,” Nat said, standing up and facing the windows. “I promise.” 

Tony hugged him gently and kissed his head. 

Four days later, Steve, Tony, Nat, Sam, Clint, and Peter suited up and made their way to the site. Peter was nervous, but Tony had insisted on taking them down. So, as they stood just across the water from the building, Peter nervously twisted his hands. 

“It’s hard, going back to a place where you were hurt,” Nat said. He hadn’t even heard her approach. “You doing okay, маленький паук?” 

Peter nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“You can stay here,” she offered. “We can go in and kick their asses and turn them in.” 

“No, I can’t do that, either.” He took a deep breath. “I can do this. Just be there. That’s all I need to do.” 

“Damn right,” Tony said, walking up to him and putting his arm around him. “We’ll do all the work. Just be there.” 

Peter nodded and offered him a hasty smile. With that, Tony picked up Peter and Clint as Sam picked up Steve and Nat, and they flew across the river. 

With a threataning clang, they landed on the metal roof of the ‘butchery.’ Clint loaded his bow and Nat drew her guns as they went down the ladder. 

“Ready?” Tony asked, then busted down the back door without asking. 

It was empty. There were some tables and chairs in the huge space, but not a single person was there. The six of them stood in the doorway for a moment, looking around. Slowly, they advanced, weapons drawn. 

“Hello?” Tony called. Only his echo answered. 

“This is a trap,” Steve whispered. 

“No shit, Sherlock. Or do you not understand that reference,” Sam hissed back. 

“Elementary,” Steve responded. 

With a clang, just as Peter crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them. He yelped and spun around. A whirring noise began, and a light blinded all of them. Nat fired her gun automatically, but as they recovered, they could see the projector on the opposite side of the room.  

“What’s going on?” Clint asked, sweeping the room. 

“No heat signatures anywhere,” Tony muttered. 

“Guys,” Sam said. He was facing the wall behind them. 

Images were being projected on them. The team backed up and moved out of the light. It was a video of the werehouse they were standing in, except it was packed with people. Peter shrunk behind Tony, trembling. Clint fired an arrow at the images, but it only hit the wall. 

“What was that for?” Steve asked. 

“Hell if I know,” he muttered. 

Then the door in the video opened with a clang. Three people dragged a hooded Peter in. Tony inhaled sharply. In the video, they were dragging Peter by his shoulders, and he was clearly unconcious. Two other people came over and they chained Peter against a wall, two ropes under his armpits, one around his waist, two around his wrists, and two around his ankles. He was spread like a star against the wall. 

“Peter, what is this?” Steve asked, not taking his eyes of the video. Peter didn’t answer, still hiding behind Tony. “You said they didn’t hurt you.” 

“Shush, look,” Sam said softly, nodding back to the wall. 

Someone else came up to Peter’s limp body and jabbed a needle into his arm and took off the hood. His mask was off. Within a few seconds, Peter groggily raised his head and looked around. It took a second, but then he became panicked. 

“Wh- what’s going on?” video-Peter exclaimed. “Who are you?” 

“Nothing to you. Just pain,” one of them said. “You hurt each one of us, in one way or another. For me? You killed my brother. And so I’ll kill you for that,” they snarled. 

Video-Peter shrunk into himself, and he looked absolutely petrified. Then the person flipped open a switchblade and sank it deftly into Peter’s leg. Video-Peter let out a terrible scream and everyone jumped. Real Peter cowered and Tony instinctively grabbed him and hugged him close. To their horror, the giant mass of people queued up and each delivered a slice, punch, slap, or stab to Peter. He wailed and screamed and pleaded, but nothing deterred them. He yelled for them, for Mr Stark and Natasha and Steve and Clint and Ned and everyone he loved. But none of them arrived. His suit was ripped aside, and his abdomen was a mass of bloody flesh. His face was red and it looked like his nose was broken. Slowly, he fell silent and his screams turned to whimpers turned to groans turned to silence. Finally, his blood was pooling on the ground, and they stopped. 

“That’s for everyone you couldn’t save,” one of them hissed. But Video-Peter’s chin was resting against his chest. 

The video stopped. 

Everyone turned to Peter, who was silently crying in Tony’s arms. Tony was crying as well, and everyone was shocked. 

“I’ll kill them,” Tony snarled, unusually quiet. “I’ll kill them all.” 

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve said. 

No one protested when Sam kicked open the door. Peter was silent as Tony picked him up, and no one complained when Sam took two trips across the river so that Tony didn’t have to put Peter down. In fact, no one said a word the entire way back to the compound. It was only once they arrived and had taken off their suits and were all holding hot chocolate when they finally cried. All of them, together, crying for their son. 

[raleighcarrera]

ok i also forgot to tell you guys i randomly found the beginnings of a fic i started a long time ago where ellie tries to have sex with colt who is a ghost in the drafts of another blog LMAO

the candles were lit. the front door was locked. her phone was off.

ellie climbed in bed, determination set into every inch of her features. okay, she thought to herself, you know what to do.

deep breathing, that was step one. staying calm, that was important, too. then she just had to ask for what she wanted.

someone nice. ellie tried her best to envision the picture of what she was looking for, but she’d never really had a ‘type.’ someone hot.

hey, if she was going to lose her virginity to a ghost, it’d better be a good looking one.

the idea had sounded ridiculous to her at first. she’d been scrolling clickit and laughed when she stumbled on the article, already rolling her eyes before she even got past the headline: i had sex with a ghost. here’s what happened.

but then she’d finished the article, and dug into it a little more.

evidently, it was... possible. and she was so tired of being a virgin.

for a few long minutes, it felt like nothing was happening. ellie fidgeted on the bed, remembering the steps the medium had outlined.

breathe. believe.

still, she felt stupid. at least she hadn’t dressed up -- it was cold in her apartment and so she was still dressed in what she’d worn to her afternoon classes, jeans and a t-shirt and a cardigan.

ignoring the part of her brain that was adamant nothing was going to happen, she screwed her eyes shut tightly, believing with everything she had. please. send me a hot ghost to talk to.

all of the candles she’d lit extinguished abruptly. ellie sat up in bed with a gasp, her eyes wide.

“sorry,” said a voice through the darkness, “fire makes me kind of antsy.” her bedroom lights flickered on.

she stared open-mouthed at the boy who materialized before her. he couldn’t have been much older than she was, and he looked -- normal. part of her had been envisioning someone dressed in period clothing, a victorian-era style relic with an accent, but... he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and sounded like every other guy at college.

“what’s up?” he said, grinning at her. “something wrong?”

“huh?” her face flushed red as she realized he had no idea what he was supposed to be here for. “oh. um. well... it’s kind of a long story. sorry -- you look really normal, it’s throwing me off.”

“i’ve only been dead for, like, a year,” he shrugged, tilting his head to look around her room. “you live here? this is a cool spot. are we in LA?”

“yeah,” she answered slowly, confusion clear in her voice. “i -- does this sort of thing happen to you... often?”

“not really,” he said nonchalantly, as though it absolutely did, “but i grew up in the city. sometimes i still visit. anyway, what do you want?”

well. no one had told her she was going to have to ask. this was embarrassing. “i don’t want to say.”

he looked at her like she was insane. “so what’d you call me for?”

“i didn’t call you, i just asked for --” ellie felt her face flush red. “someone hot.”

his eyebrows climbed higher. “why? i mean -- nice, but why?”

okay. so the ghost was definitely going to laugh at her. “because i... am a virgin. and i don’t want to be.”

the boy blinked at her. “seriously? you want to have sex with a ghost?”

“okay -- i read about it online and it didn’t sound like the worst idea,” she rushed to defend, “i didn’t think it’d be like -- like the same as meeting someone in person. if i’d known it was going to be like this i wouldn’t have tried.”

“i don’t even think it counts as losing your virginity,” he mused, “i mean i think my dick would go in, but --”

“oh my god, stop,” ellie said. her face felt like it was on fire. “it was a dumb idea, forget it.”

“i mean, it’s not like you’re not cute,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her, “can’t you find someone to have sex with you who’s still, you know, alive? unless you’re like sixteen or something.”

as if this could get any more mortifying. “i’m twenty-one.”

he stared at her, open-mouthed. “you’re twenty-one and still a virgin?”

“don’t judge me,” she snapped, “it’s not like -- it’s not like i’m not trying. i’m in my senior year of college and i’m basically invisible. i’ve been so obsessed with school my whole life and now anyone i meet is going to think i’m a loser and i’ll never have a normal relationship and i just -- i just want to get it over with, so there’s not so much pressure all the time. i don’t want it to be, like, a thing.”

“wow, dramatic,” he said, making her glare at him, “it’s been a while since i’ve heard anything that angsty.”

“i also asked for someone nice,” she said pointedly, “obviously i did it wrong.”

[garciaasfluffypen]

insane plans

prompt: continuation of new roommates wc: 1.2k ship: jennifer jareau x elle greenaway a/n: read part one before this one!!!!!

part 1 • part 3

the strangest things kept happening after the whole accidentally sending the campus into chaos thing that jj had gotten herself wrapped up into. which was probably how they found themselves sitting in jj’s dorm room, with emily-her very adorable lit ta- and alex flipping their shit at her and tara going to the library after 6:30pm.

“oh sure, you know, tell it like this insane plan that the pair of you hatched was the logical next step. the library, jennifer. the library?”

“i admit, in retrospect, it wasn’t the most brilliant idea.” jj looked down. “everything was fine! at first. as soon as we got there, everyone was leaving. and when the sun went down… we started to hear something…”

“skittering?” tara continued. “the online system was really helpful. it gave us a cross reference list before i even started typing.”

“so we found most of the textbooks… uh…”

“before you realized the staircase wasn’t in the same place anymore?” emily stared at jj like she was crazy.

“we might have gotten a little turned around. at that point, most of the computer monitors were warning us to ‘run. run now’.” jj shuddered as she remembered what had happened. “so we did what any normal person would do if they were caught in a flying vortex of modern literature and index cards from the 1970s.”

“we created a flamethrower using a lighter and some mace that jj’s dad gave her.”

“and after all of that, i get a text that says come quick, stuck in library, bring fire extinguisher.”

“okay yes, but it turned out fine.” jj sheepishly looked up to emily. “the sprinklers turned on and we snuck out a window.”

“oh yeah, with god knows what on your heels.” emily snapped.

“okay, yes! it was stupid, and we’re lucky that you didn’t have to save our souls. can we please skip to the part where once every twenty years like clockwork this girl shows up here at silas?” jj pulled up the pictures of elle she had scanned onto her computer.

“well, yeah,” tara started. “we know she’s a vampire. i mean, we’ve known that since the blood in the milk container right? vampire, vampire , vampire, yeah?”

there was a moment of silence before jj spoke. “you knew i was living with a vampire and nobody said anything?”

“she’s not a vampire.” alex started. “there’s no such thing. she’s a… light averse octogenarian with extreme hemoglobin deficiency and really good skin.”

jj started thinking out loud. “so something is taking girls, and the ones that have come back have gone full on lucy from dracula and you don’t think my roommate being a vampire is, i dunno, pertinent information? and i’m next! she’s making with the creepy dreams and the charms…”

“and the seduction eyes-”

“seduction eyes?” emily stared at jj.

“oh my gosh. she’s a vampire. my roommate is an honest to lestat vampire. how do we stop a vampire?”

“staking, decapitation, immolation, uh, there’s something here about driving an iron needle through the heart. normally i’m not into this stuff but in the case of seduction eyes i could definitely warm up to the thought.”

after talking about it, they figured out that the next best thing to do was to pull elle out with bait. and by bait, they meant jj. which was how she found herself somehow sitting in her room in her nicest blouse, waiting for the okay text to go down to the party. except she didn’t have to go down, because elle came to her. and just jj’s luck, emily came running in just as things started to get spicy. but she went on with the plan, helping emily and tara tie her to a chair, putting cloves of garlic around her neck. after a fun little side excursion with derek morgan and matt simmons when their girlfriends went missing, jj found herself back in the dorm room, sitting with elle as she refused to talk. that was, until she started spazzing.

“elle! oh no, no, no no no no no! please don’t die, don’t die you stupid vampire!” she looked around frantically, realizing the blood was still in the fridge. “here, look!” she ran and grabbed it, rushing back over to elle. “i have blood!” she poured it in her mouth, hoping and praying she’d come back to life.

“dammit…”

jj let out a sigh of relief. “do you want some more?” at elle’s confused look, she continued. “we figured we might need some leverage so tara got it from the campus hospital. look, if you really want me to believe that you didn’t do it, you have got to explain what you were doing at those parties. cause the night that we caught you, it sure looked like you were about to eat me.”

elle let out a dry laugh. “you thought that was me trying to eat you?”

“well if you weren’t trying to eat me what were you…” jj blushed as she realized what elle was actually doing. “oh… oh! so when you were hitting on me… you were actually hitting on me.”

“yes.” she paused. “and you were luring me into a trap.” elle turned to laura. “just stake me now, cause i think that would be less mortifying than this conversation.”

“okay, even if i were to believe you, that still doesn’t explain what you were doing at the parties and how you know all the missing girls. if you want us to trust you, you have gotta tell us your side of the story.”

“my side of the story?” she let out another chuckle as her eyebrow raised. “buckle up creampuff. we’re gonna be in for a long night.”

and she did. elle told her everything, about how she was born in styria back in 1680, growing up wealthy and not being affected by the war against the ottoman empire. about how she attended a ball where she was murdered, and how she was raised for a second time by the woman she only knew as mother. the mother elle knew after death. she recounted many key points in her life, and how everything started when her mother set her up with girls. how she’d have to turn these girls in and eventually give them over to her mother. and that was how she met natasha. the girl she would do anything to spend the rest of her life with. how that time, she truly fell in love with the girl, and how she couldn’t bear to give natasha up to her mother. how her mother went behind elle’s back and told natasha who she truly was. and as a punishment, was sent under the earth in a coffin for years until the 1950s. and how after that, she tried to save every girl she could.

“so you’ve been helping them escape?”

“when i can.”

“did you help kate?” elle shook her head. “so, someone that she knew, someone she thought was her friend, was really a vampire? and took her for your mother.”

“yes.”

“so, we find your mother and we get our friends back.” at elle’s chuckle, she tilted her head. “what’s so funny? we caught you.”

“as humiliating as that was, it doesn’t change the fact that my mom will scoop out your eyeballs and serve them in martinis. you’re already terrified of her.”

“already? i’ve never met your mom.”

“yes you have. she’s the dean.”

[anjumstar]

All the Way Home ch6

Read on AO3

rating: teen

pairing: bakudeku

word count: 41.8k/81.1k

summary: Four years ago, All For One and Shigaraki were defeated, taking One For All with them. At twenty years old, Katsuki and a quirkless Izuku are heroes, boyfriends, and partners. Until one day, they’re hit by a quirk that suddenly makes them fathers too. Now, with a newborn baby, they have to figure out who did this to them, and why it means the downfall of superhuman society.

This work is a part of the @bakudekubigbang​ 2022. Updates will be weekly.

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Chapter Six - We All Fall Down

“I present! My newest baby!”

Izuku had chewed his thumbnail to the nub in the last five minutes or so that Mei had been fiddling on the rooftop with one of her inventions. She’d arranged their meeting up there only to demand that he turn around, away from her as well as the stroller that she’d also insisted he bring. The stroller with the baby in it. When he’d asked if he could grab Sugu out of it while she worked, he’d been shushed, of all things. 

Now, Izuku finally turned back around to see a standing apparatus connected to the handle of the reclined stroller, slowly pushing and pulling it back and forth. It was set firmly on the ground with perhaps hydraulics or maybe just a motor extending and retracting its metal arms. There were no signs of smoke or sparking that Izuku could discern as he stepped closer to the stroller, checking in on Sugu. If the baby was alarmed that he was being babysat by a robot, he gave no sign of it in his deep sleep.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Mei!” Izuku admitted. 

“It’ll keep the child occupied while we look at the rest of my babies,” Mei stated, gesturing to a tarp covering a heap of machinery Izuku could only imagine.

“Still the tarp?” Izuku asked. “We talked about what I need.”

“I know we did, but baby number four thousand sixty-one isn’t my only surprise,” Mei said with a wink behind her goggles.

It was just after Izuku and Katsuki had moved in together that Izuku and Mei had started meeting one on one on the roof. Before, they’d met either at Mei’s lab or Endeavor Agency, but both had seen the rooftop as an opportunity for an upgrade. 

At that time, the roof had been shabby, unused space, but Izuku had cut a deal with the landlord that if he took on the costs, he could use it to fit his needs. Now there were shock-resistant mats that he could roll out to practice with the equipment, a fire extinguisher, and layers of flame-retardant spray on everything, despite the fact that Mei’s babies tended to stay intact better than they had in high school. There was a small, padlocked shed where Mei’s inventions could be stored, and a couple sandbags Izuku could practice against. It wasn’t a proper training space by any means, but it was enough for testing purposes.

“Oh great,” Izuku said, glancing back at Sugu. The stroller had a cover expanded over top, so that it looked like an old fashioned baby carriage. At just a week old, this was Sugu’s first real experience out in the sun, aside from getting in and out of cars, and it was important Izuku didn’t let him burn. He’d slathered baby sunscreen all over him, in between all the little folds on his chunky arms and legs, despite the onesie he was wearing. “Do any of your babies…explode? Or make loud noises?”

“Everything is totally infant approved,” she stated, taking out her measuring tape and stretching it the width of Izuku’s shoulders before wrapping it around a bicep. “I’m expecting at least a smile out of that little one.”

“Actually, smiles don’t really come until six weeks in,” Izuku corrected, looking over at Sugu. In his sleep, his face was totally relaxed—it reminded Izuku of Katsuki. When Katsuki slept, all those frown lines evened out, his eyebrows slumped from their sharp inturned angle, and his mouth was slack just like Sugu’s. No smiles but…it was peace.

Mei grabbed Izuku’s chin and brought him back in her direction. She stretched the measuring tape from his jaw to his clavicle, making him shiver.

“Then he’ll give me an IOU,” Mei compromised as she moved onto his waist and then his legs.

“…Sure,” Izuku said.

“Anyway, looks like your measurements haven’t changed—for now; fatherhood might change that—so we can move onto your son’s measurements!”

“My—what? Mei, no!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t wake him,” Mei said with a finger in front of her mouth, despite not speaking any quieter. She went over to the tarp and pulled out a pair of gloves, reminiscent of his old white and blue design. They still pulled up over the elbow, but those blue stripes were currently red, and around the wrists were energy packs, slimmer than the smallest version of Katsuki’s gauntlets, but similar conceptually.

“These ones are a little less targeted with your Air Force, with more emphasis on strength than pinpoint precision,” she explained as she tossed them to Izuku. “Truthfully, your fingers are only ever going to be so strong, so there’s more oomph to the machinery this time.”

“Thanks!”

Izuku pushed down the part of him that clenched and bruised at the reminder that once upon a time his fingers had been enough to knock out villains, poke holes through buildings. Now it was a struggle to recreate half that strength even with one of the best industrial designers in Japan. A tawdry recreation of All Might’s legacy.

Instead, he buzzed with excitement, like when his mom would get him the exact All Might action figure he wanted for his birthday. He might not be able to work yet, but at least he had a shiny new toy to keep him busy and stimulated. 

He slipped the gloves on, not resting as nicely over his bare skin as the long, smooth sleeves of his hero costume, and bunching up the baggy sleeves of his t-shirt. It was a stiff material, somewhat limiting the dexterity of his wrists and elbows, but also providing an extra little bit of safety and support. And while he was still wearing his arm brace, it wasn’t like these were any more restraining than he was used to.

It felt right to have the gloves on. Even in his t-shirt and the shorts that dragged to his knees, both just a little too light in the early spring windchill on the roof, the gloves alone made him feel like Hero Deku in a way he hadn’t felt in a week. Six days, to be fair. He brought his forefinger and thumb together and held them carefully. It was the strength of the flick of his finger that triggered the machinery rather than the innate ability a quirk user had to activate and deactivate their quirk. A slip of the finger at the right speed and an attack would be born whether Izuku intended it or not.

He aimed his finger at the sky first, trying to summon whatever minimal strength he could from his forearm to his wrist to the tip of his fingernail. Then he released, absorbing that kickback all the way down to his shoulder as a shockwave of air broke through the cloudless morning sky. If there had been a single cloud, perhaps one of the low-hanging cumulus billows that liked to ride the roofs of skyscrapers, Izuku could have seen just how strong the blast was. Whether it could shoot a hole through the white mass or whether it would barely tickle its belly. 

Still, the shot was strong as evidenced by the ache Izuku observed as he rolled his shoulder back, much the way Katsuki did for the recoil from his explosions.

“Average-sized according to my research!” Mei exclaimed as she pocketed her measuring tape. “Fifty centimeters. So he’ll be just perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” Izuku asked, ripping away his focus from the crisp white gloves. “Mei, under no circumstance does a baby need equipment of any kind.”

“Of course!” Mei agreed and Izuku almost relaxed. Rather, he would have, if he weren’t bracing for what was next.

Izuku watched as Mei tore the tarp off of her creations, letting it flutter to the ground with the breeze, so he could only blink when beyond the Fa Jin replacement and her newest set of jetpacks he saw a large metal suit front and center.

“A baby for your baby!” Mei exclaimed, patting the suit on its clanging shoulder. “And you! Not just a baby, obviously.”

Izuku shook his head, spluttering. “Wh…What?”

What was in front of him was a futuristic suit of armor, more sleek like the western counterpart to a Japanese samurai suit with its many flaps and decorations. No, this was ergonomic, looking almost like a carapace where the plates at the joints met and overlapped. It was missing any kind of a helmet, but otherwise went from shoulder to ankle, leaving room for other footwear. But Izuku’s eyes were locked on the strangest feature right in the middle.

“Why does it have a pregnancy belly?!” he exclaimed. “No one’s pregnant!”

“It’s not for pregnancy,” Mei clarified, before her golden eyes began to sparkle, suspicious enough that Izuku took a step back. “Although it certainly could be! A maternity suit! No, no—equitability suit! Oh, Izuku-kun, it’s a totally untapped market. Everyone will love—”

“Mei-chan!” Izuku interrupted, eyebrows furled up in a kind of desperate confusion. “You were saying? Not for pregnancy?”

“Oh, right—no, it doesn’t have to be. It’s for you to fight with your baby,” Mei explained.

An image flashed behind Izuku’s eyes, of him and a little boy wearing a version of his hero suit, almost like Ochako had suggested a few days back, but instead of a baby adaptation, it was a perfect, sized-down imitation. Both boy and man posed side by side for a shoot style kick, holding up dual iron-soled shoes with unlikely leg strength.

He shook his head, tossing the image from his head. That was absolutely not what was happening here. “What are you talking about?”

“If you need to fight while holding the baby,” Mei explained with a reasonable shrug. “This metal is the most shatter-resistant material on the market right now, with soundproofing too. So unless, say, a whole building falls on you, your baby would be safe right up against your core. Like it's in one of those little baby backpack things. Well, you would need a baby sack already, because I didn’t make one.”

“Baby bjorn,” Izuku replied automatically. Then the idea sank in, slow like water through a terracotta pot and he recoiled. “Mei-chan, what the heck? Are you crazy?”

His voice came out louder than intended, as though the bad parenting that device implied was contagious. Because at that moment, a fussy cry tore through the wind on the roof, and Izuku rushed over to the stroller.

“Every idea sounds crazy at first,” Mei said sagely. “You put your baby in a car, right? How is this any different?”

“Because you’re not purposefully going into danger when you drive, Mei!” Izuku hissed as he reached for Sugu, whose eyes weren’t open, but instead scrunched fiercely as he began to wail. However, when he reached for Sugu’s soft middle, the stroller moved, bringing Izuku’s hands up around Sugu’s neck. Izuku whipped his hands back to his chest in little fists reflexively, looking to Mei. “Turn this off!”

“Fine, fine, just lemme find the remote,” Mei said, reaching through her pockets. She pulled out a couple remotes in each hand and squinted between them. “…Shit.”

Izuku groaned, and reached for Sugu again anyway, not waiting for the machine to be shut off. He snatched Sugu up quickly, managing to catch him right on the arms that he’d tucked into a swaddle before meeting Mei up here. The past few days with just him and Sugu had been blessedly uneventful. Naturally, there had been a few crying fits—only a couple of which were Izuku’s, but he blamed the sleep deprivation. This was just another one of many. 

The machine came to a stop as Izuku hoisted Sugu up to his shoulder and began bouncing him lightly, patting his back in case the cries were due to gas more than Izuku’s raised voice, but it seemed not. Without an easy solution like burping or feeding, Izuku had no clue as to how long this bout of tears would last.

“Holding him on the shoulder…” Mei mused. “Perhaps I put the baby cavity too low…”

“It’s not too low because it’s not a good idea at all, Mei,” Izuku sighed. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think there’s any way to incorporate babies into heroics, which is why I’m staying home.”

“Staying home?” Mei asked, raising her voice over the crying as her attention finally pulled from her babies. “Well then what do you need my babies for?”

She dug through her collection and pulled out a leg brace, replacing the one Izuku had shattered just a couple of days prior. Mei’s most recent model for Izuku’s faux Fa Jin. It looked a little thicker in material than the one he’d just destroyed, but it shouldn’t inhibit his motion any more, so long as it fit comfortably under his costume. The pants of his costume had grown so baggy to accommodate such support items that they were nearly identical in fit to Katsuki’s. Luckily, the public seemed to think that was intentional. Couples magnetizing to each other, beginning to match each other’s appearance. That was a narrative Izuku could handle. Katsuki would just scoff, saying that so long as everyone knew he’d been first, he didn’t care.

“Because,” Izuku said, grabbing one of the braces and putting it under the crook of his arm so he could take the other, “I still need to practice. I’ll be back at work soon and I can’t be falling behind.”

Mei took the answer at face value, giving a noncommittal nod. “Fine. I’ll leave all these babies here, since it’s not like anyone else needs them.”

It wasn’t like anyone else was quirkless, in other words. Or had an infant.

Which wasn’t precisely true. Rocklock’s son was only five, after all. And then there was Aizawa, who was still Eri’s caretaker after all these years. And, of course, there was always Endeavor…

Izuku grimaced, holding Sugu a little closer and shushing him to no avail. Regardless of the few heroes who were parents, there were no heroes in the upper ranks with babies. Not in this moment, and hardly ever historically. 

“Right,” Izuku said, placing the braces in the open shed gingerly, despite the fact that they were designed to withstand killing blows from villains. “I can put them away.”

“And if you’re not on the field,” Mei started, heading towards the shed, “Maybe I can take my babies for some little adjustments. I’m sure that all these old things are obsolete n—”

“No, that’s okay!” Izuku inserted, stepping between Mei and the open door. “Like I said, I’ll have to practice! I can use your babies and give you feedback, okay? Promise.”

Mei arched an eyebrow at Izuku, her skin pulling taut behind her goggles. “Alright…” she drawled, stepping back. “Lemme know and I’ll be back next week.”

“Great,” Izuku sighed with a relieved smile. “I’ll let you know.”

Mei glanced from Izuku to Sugu, finally taking her goggles off to squint at him. “Is he ever gonna stop?”

This was already his second crying fit of the day, following the usual tears that had been mollified by a diaper, a bottle, a burp, a nap. Every one hit like a regression, wrinkling and ruddying Sugu’s face back to the state of being newly born.

“Crying?” Izuku asked, beginning to feel the effects of the constant bouncing in his triceps. A workout without even going to the gym. “He’s a Midoriya. So, you know.”

Sugu let out a particularly sharp wail, and Izuku wondered if maybe they had a little baby Present Mic on their hands. Could be worse—he’d have to look at his notes to check. Maybe ask Mei if he could borrow a decibel meter.

“Possibly not.”

*

Katsuki was falling behind.

A patch of his gearless suit was still warm through to his skin where Shouto had just landed a fiery punch. Shouto had no business getting that close to Katsuki during hand-to-hand—that was supposed to be Katsuki’s dominion—and the rage of it made Katsuki grin wildly. That fucker was going to pay.

A week of desk duty. Making irritatingly slow progress with his research against that woman with the procreation quirk. Not having Izuku to spar with—the closest they came was exchanging said irritatingly slow research with each other. His muscles were tight but engaged, ready to go. He was going to have Shouto’s ass. 

Katsuki blocked a kick from Shouto with his forearm, lips spread maniacally as he clocked Shouto’s upended center of gravity. That was more like it. Katsuki slouched, sweeping low with one leg against Shouto’s standing one, and watching as the other hero lost his balance and slipped towards the ground.

For, like, half a second.

A pillar of ice shot up from the gym’s foam mat and kept Shouto upright, but it didn’t stop there. The ice crept along the floor towards Katsuki, but Katsuki shot himself into the air before it could spread over to him. Whether it was just a thin layer to throw his balance or a capture attack meant to encase him just like their first Sport’s Festival match, Katsuki didn’t want to play. Unfortunately, Shouto had followed in Endeavor’s—and indeed Katsuki’s own—footsteps a few years back, and was looking up at Katsuki in the air with a glint in his eyes.

Katsuki’s smile dropped at the thought of his boss, but then he shook himself out of it. His focus had been shit in this match and like hell he was losing a dumb training spar after only a week off the field. His technique was fantastic, dammit. But a week of seeing fucked up father and fucked up son day in and day out had not gone as unnoticed by Katsuki as it usually did.

This is great timing for you too, Bakugou-shounen.

Huh?

Fuck, focus. Katsuki shook away All Might’s ghost echoing in his head and gritted his teeth till his smile was more of a snarl.

Shouto extended his ice pillar into a ramp that he then used his father’s propulsion technique to shoot himself up and thrust him skyward from. No one looking at Shouto now would know that he’d gone entire years only cultivating his ice moves, totally ignoring any part of him that came from his father. Outside of a few strange personality quirks, he seemed well adjusted. The failure of Endeavor’s parenting had proven surpassable.

You and Endeavor are a lot alike.

Katsuki blinked and Shouto had gained way too much height on him. The gym boasted high ceilings, ones tall enough that Endeavor had space to turn his feet into jet engines and burst several stories into the air. So Katsuki had plenty of room to blast himself up as he evaded Todoroki’s ice shards. Fortunately, Katsuki could use Todoroki’s own technique against him.

Key to Katsuki’s flying technique had been the ability to use both hands to balance his flight, and allow him the ability to go straight. Shouto, however, could fly with just one side, and though Katsuki would never let that half ‘n half bastard know, Katsuki had been studying the technique for years.

Katsuki kept one hand under him, alternating his aim with precision as he put one hand in front of him and fired cluster explosions from his fingertips. Some of the shots shattered Shouto’s ice in the air, and others were headed straight for Shouto. Shouto raised his hand to shoot more ice, and it blocked half his face, covering his mother’s scar from Katsuki’s view.

Despite Rei’s involvement in Shouto’s life now, Katsuki had almost forgotten her involvement in the story he’d first heard six years ago. One parent overbearing, the other neglectful, in so few words. 

The next explosion sent Katsuki flying too far back, his hands having produced extra sweat without his realizing. He missed his target, only the fringe of his attack approaching Shouto while the energy at the core dissipated sidelong in the air.

Dammit, he had to focus. Shouto’s tragic backstory had haunted Katsuki a couple times since his initial eavesdropped listen, but he’d had a front-row seat to Shouto’s growth. He’d watched Shouto, through his friendship with Izuku, grow into a full person. And they’d all been around for Touya’s great reemergence. He shouldn’t be thinking about this now. 

Katsuki squared himself back in the air. Despite blowing himself back, Shouto had gained too much air on him. He was too close, reaching for Katsuki with a pillar of ice that was aimed for his hands. Katsuki tried to explode them away, but he was gauntletless and had wasted too much sweat a moment before, and Shouto was gaining on him with too much ferocity. The ice reached his fingertips and started inching towards his palms before it suddenly stopped. Shouto was in retreat, falling back towards the ground. 

Piqued with anger, Katsuki burst off the little thimbles of ice he had and shot himself bullet-like towards the mat. He landed just a moment after Shouto, who was already melting the ice from the flame-retardant field. Katsuki’s rough landing on the mat sent sprinkles of water in the air, like bouncing on a trampoline in the rain.

“Let’s call it,” Shouto said. “You’re obviously someplace else right now.”

“Fuck off, Half ‘n Half—I fight with you ‘cause you don’t yip yap.”

“I fight with you because you’re good,” Shouto replied. “Usually.”

Katsuki had no comeback to that. None that didn’t involve the violence epitomized by his full hero name, but he didn’t want to commit a crime that would get him barred from heroics. And besides, the way he was going today—he’d probably lose.

“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed instead, walking back to the bench and grabbing his water bottle as Shouto turned the last of the water on the mat to steam, filling the cavernous room with humidity. “Off day.”

“Is the baby keeping you awake at night?”

Well, yes, he was—a bit. Izuku still insisted on most of the feedings, no matter how Katsuki tried to talk him out of it. The truth was, Katsuki wasn’t a great debater at ass o’clock at night, so Izuku got away with it until the wee hours when Katsuki finally took over. He was waking up earlier, and experiencing interrupted sleep. He was tired, but he’d been tired at work before. Heroes were expected to work overnight shifts, pull overtime on cases and stay on the streets in a fight long past when their shift was over if it meant taking a villain in. Sleep was not the problem.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said anyway. “Little shit is.”

Katsuki flicked open the spout of his water bottle and squirted it straight in his mouth, wiping away the drops that dribbled down his chin. 

“Or…” Shouto started as he approached the bench, “is there something else you want to talk about?”

“No,” Katsuki responded, grabbing a washcloth and smearing off the worst of the sweat on his forehead, jawline, and down his neck. 

“Alright,” Shouto said. He twisted the cap off his own water bottle, took a single glug, and began walking toward the door. His temperature control was so good that he’d hardly even broken a sweat. At least, Katsuki hoped it was due to his quirks and not that the fight had been that pathetic. Just as Shouto reached the door, Katsuki yelled out.

“I’m nothing like your disaster of a father!”

Shouto turned around. Blinked. “I know.”

Katsuki glared, snarling as he narrowed his eyes. “Exactly!”

“...Right.”

“Right!”

Shouto sighed, returning to Katsuki in the middle of the gym, and Katsuki’s blood simmered. His heart rate hadn’t slowed down a beat since they landed, quick as punches in a round of fisticuffs.

“Katsuki,” Shouto said simply, “you’re going to be a good dad.”

Katsuki cast his gaze toward the wall, crossing his arms, the blood just under his skin hot beneath his fingertips. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know that if your goal is to be a good father,” Shouto explained, “then you’re already nothing like him.”

The walls in this room weren’t mirrored, like in the equipment area. So Katsuki continued staring, spotting the few sooty marks that hadn’t been wiped from the walls from training sessions’ past. 

Katsuki knew a little something about having a goal and coming up short. For years he’d had the goal of being the number-one hero but had failed on every fundamental level. All his intentions, and still he’d never have been a real hero if it weren’t for Izuku.

“There are a lot of ways to fuck up a kid, even with the best intentions,” Katsuki said.

“Your best is better than most, Katsuki,” Shouto said. 

And with nothing more to say on the matter, Shouto turned heel, and left Katsuki alone with the smallest of smiles.

*

There had been no tangible difference, when One For All had left forever. It departed much as it had arrived not even two years earlier. It hadn’t rested on Izuku’s tongue, where One For All had first touched him, changing his life. It hadn’t resided in Izuku’s bones, despite how they’d broken and splintered for it time and time again. It had been somewhere deeper than the untouched marrow of his bones, than the stem of his brain.

And without a trace, it was gone.

Izuku had felt nothing, nothing overriding the soul-soaking exhaustion of a battle won, a battle only a heartbeat away from being lost. And yet he’d known. It was gone. And the victory was as much a farewell as he would ever be spared.

That had been five years ago. Now, his chest was cleaved by a stream of sweat sticking his shirt to his skin as he pushed a stroller all the way to the Endeavor Agency. He hardly realized he’d made it until he was at the front desk.

“Can’t stay away for a whole week, Deku?” the receptionist asked with a chirpy voice. 

“Oh,” Izuku mumbled, sheepish as his disguise was seen through. The same mask and hat shielded him as the week before, but now with a hoodie for himself, and a little bucket cap on Sugu to cover up every last viridescent curl. “I look that obvious?”

She shook her head. “Only the eyes. Up close.”

Izuku lowered the bill of his cap that much more, restraining from blowing back his bangs when they caught in his eyelashes. “Hopefully,” Izuku said with a smile that curved above his mask. “Anyway, no, I’m just here meeting Kacchan.”

The ping of an elevator sounded and before he could so much as turn to see, Izuku heard, “Deku, what are you doing here?”

“Or surprising him, I guess,” Izuku amended.

“I seem to remember something about someone staying home with their ward,” Katsuki said as he sidled up to the front desk. “Huh, I wonder who that could have been?”

“You must be thrown off because of the disguise.” Izuku grinned, taking in Katsuki’s own version of it.

It was the same idea as Izuku’s. Mask, hat, hoodie—but it was so unmistakably Kacchan to Izuku that it was almost a joke. Perhaps he wasn’t the best judge; he’d be able to recognize Katsuki blindfolded, ears plugged, and hands tied. He only needed one sense at a time to find Katsuki wherever he was, at most. “Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go, genius.”

Katsuki yanked the diaper bag off of Izuku’s shoulder and led the way out the automatic door, into the calm day. It was a shame Sugu wouldn’t remember days like this—weather mild, light breeze, the brief window of time before the stickiness and heat of summer encroached upon the all-too-short spring. It’d be two more springs at least before he remembered a thing.

“Wait,” Katsuki said when they’d only made it to the end of the block. Izuku halted, the stroller stopping in front of him, and he watched as Katsuki walked around it, peeking his head under the hood.

After the crying fit with Mei, Izuku had managed to get Sugu to calm down—he’d just needed to fuss himself to sleep, and Izuku had needed twenty minutes on the sofa to decompress. Since then, he’d gotten up again, had a good feeding, and gone back to sleep before Izuku left. At best, they had two hours of peace, although this was one of Sugu’s first outings. Izuku could practically hear the sirens of an ambulance rounding the street corner or a puttering motorcycle revving down the road, taking this route just to rouse Sugu.

“Hey there,” Katsuki murmured, crouching down. He put a hand in the stroller and Izuku leaned over to see Katsuki stroking Sugu’s cheek with the barest of touches. He took the sleeve of his hoodie and dabbed away a thin streak of drool. “You’ve been good for Dad?”

Izuku’s heart burst at the tender display, and he bit his lip to keep it to himself. Katsuki was so cute. And Izuku had missed him. Their usual near twenty-four-seven togetherness had been fractured into a few nighttime hours of spooning, and a bento or two scarfed down sitting across from each other. Hardly any moments with Sugu snug between them—rather he was passed from one to the other without time for a spare look. Izuku wanted this moment to stretch and pull like sculpting sugar, and allow themselves at least a little more time together before duty called.

The moment ended abruptly, nearly startling Izuku when Katsuki stood again, returning to Izuku’s side. “Didn’t want all the extras to spot me being a softy.”

“But you are a softy,” Izuku said, voice warmed by fondness.

“Maybe, but it’s only for you to see,” Katsuki said. “And now him. He should count himself lucky.”

“I’m sure he will!”

Katsuki stared at Izuku for a moment and yeah, those eyes were unforgettable. Even with every other feature covered, those eyes would be nothing but Katsuki’s. And now Sugu’s.

“Shuddup,” Katsuki said eventually, turning away. “Let’s get a move on. I didn’t leave at this time thinking I’d be dragging your sorry asses behind me.”

Despite Katsuki’s complaining, they arrived at the lab on time. When Izuku imagined the lab, as he had been doing for the last few days since Endeavor had set up the appointment, he’d accidentally been imagining his pediatrician’s office. Vinyl chairs that had gone so long without being replaced that they were cracked all around the seams, squished in the seat by the thousands of butts that have been planted in them, doing crossword puzzles, reading magazines, and scrolling through phones over the years, waiting out their appointment slot.

That was not the case.

There was no waiting room, and there were no patients. Izuku had forgotten that the procedure they were getting done was an uncommon one��at least uncommon as far as how Izuku and Katsuki were doing it. Millions of people had parts of their genome read through mail-in ancestry websites, but Izuku hadn’t met anyone who’d done it in person.

Of course, Endeavor had felt it was necessary. If One For All was the reason Izuku had been targeted, and if there was anything in his DNA revealing information that wasn’t already public knowledge then the last thing they wanted to do was send those samples through the mail. In person was the only approach.

So here they were. They’d landed in the lobby of some corporate building and flown up a few stories to a short, tiled corridor without a bench or seat to speak of. Only a single sheet of glass, like a bank teller’s window. Reception?

Katsuki was the one to barge up, ripping off his hat and mask then knocking right on the glass. “We’re here for Dr. Sudou.”

“Bakugou and Midoriya?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, just a moment.”

“You can go in the back now.”

Katsuki led the way as Izuku pushed the stroller forth into the “back” area. When they arrived, Izuku didn’t know where to look first.

On first impulse, Izuku thought hospital. It was his touchstone of familiarity. There were blood pressure monitors and test tubes and the vinyl chairs that had been missing from reception, plus that antiseptic smell that knocked him right back into last week and the hours they’d spent in the post-partum rooms waiting for Sugu. But the visage only went so far. 

The room was much larger than any Izuku had stayed in at a hospital or doctor’s office, though it was cluttered with far more equipment. Multiple computers and boxy machines with glass windows and slots in their middles. Immediately, Izuku felt in over his head.

“Ah, Deku, Dynamight,” a man greeted as he revealed himself from between the aisles of equipment. “And our little guy.”

There was a soft smile on Dr. Sudou’s face as he looked down into the stroller and peeked at the sleeping Sugu. It almost forgave his use of the words ‘our little guy’ when referring to him.

“I understand that we’re here for some quirk sequencing.”

“Yes,” Izuku replied. “Just want to…rule out some possibilities.”

“I’m happy to help however I can,” Dr. Sudou said. “Please, sit.”

The sect at the front of the room with the chairs that Izuku and Katsuki placed themselves in almost looked like the standard testing room at the doctor’s office. The room where the nurse would take your weight and height and blood pressure before the doctor spoke with you.

“We’re just going to take some standard cheek swabs,” Dr. Sudou said, pulling three bottled swabs from a shelf. “This is still our best way to get a reliable sample. It doesn’t degrade as quickly as some other methods, but we’re going to be quick, so that shouldn’t matter too much.”

“Didn’t it take, like, fifteen years to map one human genome?” Katsuki interjected. “You working with lightning speeds, doc?”

The doctor chuckled as he uncapped the first swab and gestured for Izuku to open his mouth. Izuku did so, wincing as the dry cotton scraped against his cheek. It was painless for sure but still as unpleasant as gauze after dental surgery.

“That’s absolutely correct,” Dr. Sudou said, capping the bottle and then reaching to start with Katsuki’s. Katsuki was already frowning at the prospect of being silenced whilst his point was being challenged but opened his mouth anyway. “But the same way that computer technology skyrocketed in a matter of decades, genetics is a growing field of exponential technology. Mapping a genome takes a fraction of the time it did back then. Soon, our machines will be in every PhD lab, then every college campus. By the time your son is in middle or high school, he’ll probably be able to use one of these in class.”

“So you can really tell what quirk someone has just from their DNA?” Izuku asked as Katsuki’s nose wrinkled, done with his swabbing as well.

The doctor moved onto Sugu and tilted his head side to side in a kind of shrug. “It’s not that exact yet. And too expensive for the general public for now. This is science that we’re just breaking ground with—researchers are receiving huge grants for this work, even professors at Musutafu University. But we should be able to read enough for your purposes. Soon, though, the answer will be one-hundred percent yes, and the scientific world will forget all about pinky toe knuckles.”

Izuku watched carefully as Dr. Sudou brought a soft touch to Sugu’s chin. The baby’s mouth was already slack, so just the slightest touch from Dr. Sudou’s fingertips dropped his jaw enough to slip the swab in. Izuku’s breath was baited as he watched and listened for any sign of Sugu rousing, but, save for the rise and fall of his little, rounded chest, he was motionless as Dr. Sudou finished. 

“That’s a good boy you’ve got there,” Dr. Sudou said fondly, and just then Izuku noticed his salt and pepper sideburns, the wedding ring cinching his fourth finger. Izuku wondered if he too had kids, if he was thinking back to when his were in their first week of life, as small and helpless as Sugu. Izuku wondered if, for the rest of your life after having kids, you looked at all others through the lens of your own.

“The best,” Izuku agreed. Katsuki glanced over at him, catching his eye and smiling. He even reached his hand out to Izuku’s and their fingers intertwined there between their seats.

“Alright,” the doctor said, standing up with the three samples. “If you boys will excuse me, this should only be a short wait.”

Izuku tracked Dr. Sudou as he moved from one machine then another and another. It was suddenly so real—the final door to One For All shutting in his face. Rather, the door was already shut, so it would just be the dull, tinny echo of knocks on a locked door. A metal door with a wheel, like the kinds closing vaults. That wheel had been closed and latched for many years now.

“Deku, relax.”

“I am relaxed,” Izuku said. Neither of his legs were bouncing up and down, and he wasn’t worrying his lip or biting any nails.

“You’re about to make my hand as mangled as yours.”

“Oh,” Izuku gasped, releasing his grip on Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki’s hold remained firm, though, keeping Izuku’s fingers twined between his. “Sorry, Kacchan.”

“No sorrys, just relax,” Katsuki said. “We know what he’s gonna say. You’re the father, I’m the father, and there’s no One For All to worry about.”

“Right, right,” Izuku breathed, trying to steady himself, but he couldn’t help the way his heart squeezed. He hadn’t heard Katsuki say the words One For All in, what? Months? At least? When it was, in so many ways, what had brought them together again. “No surprises.”

Izuku bit his lip. There was one surprise, though. If the technology couldn’t quite parse out what quirk was what but could at least distinguish the quirkless from the not, then…

They’d find out today if Sugu was quirkless. It had been on Izuku’s mind since Endeavor had first introduced this whole quirk idea, but he’d been smothering it and failing.

If Sugu was bullied. If he was given less of a shot at a career. If he ever felt less than. It would be Izuku’s fault. His genetics, his bad luck. He’d pass it on to someone who didn’t ever ask for this. Sugu, so sweet and innocent right now, had no idea what might happen to him just because of his father’s rotten genes.

“Hey,” Katsuki said, interrupting Izuku’s thoughts again. “Hand. Squeezing. Stop.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku said, also pulling his lip out from between his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Deku,” Katsuki said, turning more squarely towards Izuku. “Talk to me.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m just…stressing. It’s nothing,” Izuku explained, waving his free hand in front of his chest.

Katsuki sighed, taking his hand back and resting both in his lap. “It’s my fault.”

Izuku’s hand was cold, the warmth and humidity of Katsuki’s hand vanishing into the dry, sterile room. “What?”

“If you’re worried about him being quirkless, then that’s my fault,” Katsuki said, looking down at the floor. It was a speckled linoleum with enough black dots to pretend to distract yourself with forever. “If I hadn’t been an ass for your whole life about being quirkless, the idea wouldn’t bother you. And obviously it does.”

“How did you—”

“Because I’m worried about it too!” Katsuki exclaimed, doing a surprising job of keeping his voice down. Whether it was for Sugu’s or Dr. Sudou’s benefit, Izuku wasn’t sure. “ ‘Cause I knew you’d feel like shit about it. Because I made you feel like shit about it.”

“Kacchan, no—”

“Yes, and just hear me out,” Katsuki turned back to Izuku, his eyes intense. Unblinking. “If he’s quirkless, then it’s my opportunity to make it right. I can never undo what I did to you, and I know you say you’re past it, but I’ll never forget what a shithead I was. So if our son’s quirkless, then I’m going to love the absolute stuffing out of him, and every time you see me loving that little guy, know that it’s how much I should have loved you when you were young and quirkless. It’s how much I love you now, old and quirkless. And everything will be fine.”

“K-Kacchan.”

Izuku wasn’t quite sure when the tears had started; he was trying to blink them away, but it was only encouraging them to fall. And then he would have wiped them away, but somewhere in the course of Katsuki’s speech, he’d taken both of Izuku’s hands in his, and how he was powerless against them falling.

Luckily, Katsuki was there, reaching their connected hands up and brushing under both of Izuku’s eyes with his thumbs. Where they were warm in Izuku’s hands, they were cool against his face, all reddened up from crying.

“If we’re lucky, the doc will be able to see if the kid’s got your crying genes and we can work on that right away.”

Izuku laughed, but it was watery, the crinkle of his eyes sending two more tears cascading towards Katsuki’s thumbs. “Yeah, maybe.”

They had to wait a while longer. Long enough for Sugu to wake up and whine for a bottle—they had formula, but some of it ended up spilt on the floor—for Sugu to drink the bottle down to its chalky bottom, and fall asleep again in Katsuki’s rocking arms, per Katsuki’s insistence. At the rate they were going, feedings and diaper changes would never be equal between them, but Katsuki wasn’t gonna be left behind in the dust, he’d said as he’d stolen the bottle. Hence the formula on the ground.

Dr. Sudou had a few printed out pieces of paper when he returned, all stuck under a black clipboard and it was professional enough that it caused Izuku to sit up a little straighter, some of that old anxiety returning to him immediately. 

“Aw,” Dr. Sudou cooed as he sat down, smiling at Sugu. “I can practically smell the newborn baby smell on him from here. It’s unlike anything else.”

He definitely had kids then, Izuku figured, the thought passing as the quietest hum overtop the rest of his inner monologue. His eyes honed in on that clipboard, wanting to tear it out of the doctor’s hands and get the news himself. But all his joints, his muscles, each and every ligament was stiff and unmoving.

“Whatcha got for us, Doc?”

Katsuki was looking at Dr. Sudou expectantly, but Izuku could hardly tear his eyes away from the clipboard. Did they really even have to know? All they needed was confirmation that Sugu didn’t have One For All, right? And they could leave the rest for when the time came, like all other parents did, right?

Izuku broke away from the clipboard and glanced at Katsuki, still rocking Sugu even though he’d fallen dead asleep a while ago. Katsuki returned his gaze and gave the shortest nod of reassurance.

No. They had to know.

“Well, first of all, the paternal results are as expected,” the doctor started. “You both are very, very close matches, so congratulations again on fatherhood.”

Izuku bit his lip, practically holding his tongue in to keep from saying get on with it, get on with it!

“As for the quirk results,” Dr. Sudou continued. “Dynamight’s are as expected. Some genes consistent with emitter quirks, but as we’ve discussed, the particulars are still fuzzy. As for Deku…”

Dr. Sudou met Izuku’s unblinking gaze and Izuku’s tongue dried up. God, he needed to make space for a water bottle in that diaper bag. No, no, he needed to relax because everything was going to be exactly—

“…Results are consistent with quirklessness.”

—Exactly as expected.

Izuku let out a breath and pasted a toothless smile on his face. It was the obvious result. Anything else would mean that something was horribly wrong, so this was good. It was correct, and proved that the technology was trustworthy, so that was good. It was so much like the doctor’s visit he’d had fifteen years ago when he’d first been declared quirkless but that was okay! He was a hero anyway, even without a quirk. Well, not right now, exactly, but it was only temporary. The point was, that everything was fine.

“And results for Midoriya Sugu are also consistent with quirklessness.”

Everything was fine.

“Oh,” Izuku intoned, his voice pitched up a little higher than he’d intended. “Okay—that’s good. No—great news! That’s exactly what we needed to hear to be sure, so. Yeah! Thank you so much Dr. Sudou.”

Before Izuku knew it, he was on his feet, practically floating the couple of steps over to the doctor to shake his hand. That pesky clipboard was in the way, but the doctor set it aside, landing on a desk with a clap as Izuku took his hand in both of his and shook.

Even if a villain had been hoping to get somewhere with One For All, now they would never succeed. Because there wasn’t a trace of it in anyone anymore. Izuku and Sugu were quirkless and All Might was long dead. There was nothing.

And Izuku and Katsuki were going to be the ones to catch that villain, and tell them so themselves.

“Yeah, thanks, Doc,” Katsuki agreed, standing up as well and placing Sugu in the stroller. “We’ll be on our way now.”

Izuku felt a hand at the small of his back as he was whisked out of the room, back into the short hallway and down the other side of it. Katsuki pushed the stroller right past the elevator and Izuku paused. “Kacchan? Where are we going?”

“Bathroom,” he said shortly, pushing Izuku in front of him when they reached it. Izuku opened the door and held it as Katsuki pushed the stroller in. Once the door was closed, Katsuki hollered, “Anyone in here?”

Izuku looked at Sugu, but he didn’t smell anything informing him that Sugu needed a new diaper. And the baby was sleeping soundly as ever, despite Katsuki’s noisiness. When there was no response confirming a presence in the bathroom, Izuku looked to Katsuki to take Sugu, but Katsuki brushed right past the stroller and wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist, tucking his chin over Izuku’s shoulder. The touch was firm but soft, yet it still knocked the breath out of Izuku.

“I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear,” Katsuki said quietly, his raspy whisper nothing but a low rumble by Izuku’s ear.

“I…It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku stumbled out. “What you said before about Sugu—”

“No,” Katsuki interrupted. “It wasn’t what you wanted to hear about you.”

Izuku’s breath was lost to the room. Like the room was a vacuum, sucking the air out of his mouth, then his lungs until they collapsed in his chest, taking the rest of his organs with them. His chest hurt, and he really, really couldn’t take in a breath. And when he finally did, it hiccupped in and out, the sound of a wracked sob coming with it.

One was all it took, and then the last five years came crashing down.

“I knew it was gone,” Izuku sobbed, his eyes pressing wetly into Katsuki’s shoulder. His hands were fisting the back of Katsuki’s sweatshirt, clinging to the fabric like it was what would keep him upright. Like it was support of any kind. “I knew immediately, so why am I being so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid,” Katsuki murmured. “Only I get to call you that, and it’s because I don’t mean it.”

“But I am,” Izuku wailed. “How can I miss what was never mine?”

“It was yours,” Katsuki said. “And you used it perfectly, and you saved the world.”

“And I lost it,” Izuku cried. “I lost it, Kacchan, I lost it.”

There was a brief pause as tears kept falling from Izuku’s eyes, soaking and already cooling on Katsuki’s shoulder. And there was the slow rub of Katsuki’s flat hand on his back, like he’d seen done to Sugu in moments of disquiet.

“Yeah, you did,” he said finally. “But you got to keep everything else.”

Izuku brought his face out of Katsuki’s shoulder, and blinked up at him. His wet eyelashes smeared tears on his eyelids, and he was fairly certain his whole face was red. But it didn’t matter because the look Katsuki was meeting him with was soft, and open. Like the look he wore when he first blinked awake in the morning.

“And then some,” Izuku sniffled. “I got everything else and then some.”

Katsuki smirked, glancing over at Sugu.

“I’ll say.”

*

The night was quiet.

The past few hours had been soundtracked by nothing but the clack of his fingers on keys, punctuated by dull taps of the touchpad and higher clicks of the mouse. Underneath was the soft shush of his laptop’s fan working overtime even as the coffee table grew warm under Izuku’s wrists. All while dry eyes stared at profiles that possibly matched the women with the ponytail, narrowed down only by the searches Katsuki and Izuku had been swapping. Such had been the motif of Izuku’s life for nearly the past week since visiting the lab.

So what was that new noise?

Izuku blinked blearily at his laptop screen, taking a few moments to categorize the sound he was hearing. When it finally registered that it was a baby crying—his baby crying—he jolted more awake, honing in on the clock in the corner of the laptop. 2AM? Gosh, he’d gotten carried away.

He hurried, having already lost a few critical moments during which Katsuki was likely to wake, and hoisted up his baby boy, clearly ready for his next feeding. It only felt as though it had been a few minutes since the last one, but that’s how things tended to be when Izuku got sucked into research. He’d lost whole days like that before, so a brief evening window wasn’t really too bad.

Sugu soothed nice and easy this time. He’d fussed a little more after—and during—the previous feeding, which was maybe why Izuku had been awake enough to head over to the laptop and get some work done. But this was a good little man right here. Quick to fall back asleep nearly as soon as the bottle was dry.

“Good job,” Izuku congratulated as he set Sugu back down. Positive reinforcement young.

Katsuki would probably be the one to wake for the next feeding, if their pattern was to continue as it had. And he’d throw a fit if he found Izuku awake, that was for sure.

Still. That wouldn’t be for another couple hours. 

With that in mind, Izuku stretched, muscles sore from training as well as sitting too long at the computer, and returned to the coffee table. Then he wiggled his mouse, and continued on.

It was hours later, throat so dry that every breath scratched down it, eyelids nearly sticking to his eyes with every belabored blink, that he found her. Izuku scribbled the info on a Post-It and stuck it to the formula box, the first place Katsuki would go in the morning. Then he collapsed into bed, heavier than if he’d been pockmarked by lead bullets. He wasn’t even asleep before the crying started up again, and the Katsuki stirred.

By the time Katsuki stood up, he was.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x18 Freaks and Geeks

“Shaggin’ wagon. Fogged up too” “yup. Called it” “I recognize her face. Have we seen her more than once?” “well shit” “oh damn. I wasn’t expecting that” grooving to the music

“Yeah maybe” laughter

“Are they still in Kansas? This guy aint from Kansas” “we’re watching them make out for safety purposes” we’ve seen her before

“Don’t bother calling anybody” “Yup” “that guy looks like a total fkn tool” “That’s a good plan. The throat punching obviously” “they’re going to get laptop girl” “Yup” “we heard that glass break three times. Solid editing right there” “We even went to the mall. Just once though” “You’re one to talk Dean” laughter

“May ham - is that the pig you get in the month of May? A May Ham?” “Dean’s turning into an Old Man complaining about teenagers and shit” “Not what I would call a compound” “Doesn’t this guy turn bad? I can’t remember” “I remember them killing him or something” “That was a very not sure sure” “which means they’re not doing very well in school” “not a very good salesman” “Ok Old Man” “it’s a terrible idea. They’ll hate you forever” “Oh yeah split up again. Solid plan. Something something fuck the buddy system” “I think the music was trying to tell me that he’s a bad dude” “He’s got Sam hair. So of course since they have a similar hair cut, they’re going to agree” “it’s another Sam haircut. A little shorter though. To be fair, I like her hair better” “Who’s Jimmy?” “It’s a set up. Probably” “hair cut men. They both need hair cuts” “At least they’re safe. They have a fire extinguisher” “gotta solve the fkn mystery” “Just walking around downtown with your guns and machetes out. No big deal” “You’ll at least blend in with all the crazy people with a haircut like that” “God dammit” “why do they have to give it away like that?” It’s called telling a story

“That kid will fuck you up” “Why are they all pointing the guns at Dean and not the vampire?” “because we’re not dicks” “very vampire-y thing to say ‘take this one to go’” “That was a very Sam mood though. Sam would usually save the monster and Dean would kill it” “So he’s not a vampire?” They’re working together

“I guess I should have known; he’s not wearing enough eyeliner. He could use some” “Aren’t they all armed?” “Dean’s getting the red mist” “His blood pressure is probably low so he wouldn’t have problems with that” “Is she going to blast him?” “That’s pretty awesome” Right in the eyeball

“That’s a badass speech” “That’s some really watered down blood. Where did they get it from? Oh wait they shot him with the dead mans blood” “What happened to the vampire?” “They cut the part where they killed him or something” “dead mans blood to the brain probably isn’t good for anyone” “Does Jensen have kids?” Yeah he’s got a few.

“Her eyebrows looks purple” laughter

“I wasn’t expecting that. It’s good” “They made this out to be evening time, but I’m pretty certain it’s morning”

[castle-dominion]

4x9 kill shot OOH A PLOT HEAVY ONE DJFHKJSDHFKJASD HEE HEE HEE

Or you should only get married once- or that! Ok! Girl YOU help, you're the one there!

This scene made my mom do her resistance band physiotherapy while we were watching lol Oof poor beckett. trauma or smth. Like hamantha except it doesn't actually work that way, right? Mythbusters did that

Oh that's so tragic Is that pattern or blood on him? Pattern. it is the weave of his shirt.

not a good joke XD Beckett looks nice today but also like that shirt is pyjamas. Castle looks normal, good as always, ryan is wearing that suit style he does, love the vest as always. & let's check my laundry to make sure it doesn't flood. Wait I had a dream about chicken stock last night. It was intense. At least, for me, a chef.

When I first watched this I didn't get it but now that it's the second time I can hear the "It’s a common ammunition favored by… ...........long range shooters." LMAO INTERNET EXPLORER do adults actually say "I'm a big girl" in a serious way? I thought it was lighthearted, like it seems here. "haha I'm a big girl now, you don't need to avoid the word, silly you silly me" See after this point it became seamless, shooter sniper whatever. Bro what's so special about "my unit" of special forces. (tho yeah it really is skill to be able to do that) Oof she asked if she felt it Why would you say that castle?

Ok so exit wounds are so so much worse than entrance wounds, but we only get a glimpse of her back so yk maybe we can't see it. But as someone else pointed out, She Had Surgery. She should have not only a Bullet Scar, but also the Surgical Scar.

Ooh now that's a sexy gun. & I'm an anti-gun person. (doesn't mean I can't find guns intriguing.)

The way the shooter was looking made it seem random. I also did not see a flag.

Poor beckett & the car door. Someone needs to write that fanfic at the diner under the table & I think it is going to have to be me. The captions wrote nada THIS time. The what now? I'm not american idk any dc shooter Ooh good scenes, the overwhelm overstim sounds doppler shiny it tickles my neurodivergence (adhd) as it prods at hers (ptsd) yo I LOVE hearing him talk smart like that. Lanie looks soo so cute when she's concerned Nobody's going to offer her a hand up? why was the /siren/ the trigger tho? btw nice jean jacket

wait I was looking on the wrong side of the sign! I went back & I did see the corner of the flag I think.

Ryan has a nice jacket, light grey with a faint square pattern on it, plus a lapel pin as always, blue dhirt, tie, & looks like the pants match the jacket. Esposito has a collared t-shirt, grey/black, only three buttons or so, badge around his neck. Yeah castle shut it Uh gates, you should have identified that you were asking about links first. close to a thousand qualified shooters just from this country tho. You have more than that. Ryan asks if she is ok when she just doesn't respond & like bro of effing course she is not ok but he is expressing concern & I love it

KB: I don’t have PTSD. me: you literally do??? You know, paranoia sucks but sometimes it can be useful. I always try to sit facing so I can see the room or the door but that's mostly paranoia. I NEVER go through a door I don't know I can open again but this one is actually useful & important. Yeah it is a bit paranoid to check the door every time I take a break at work but at school I went to take a break & check the door & I was right that it didn't open. In fact: right after I checked, someone came through a door on the other side & I had to let them in. Mum used to work in an airport. I grew up post 9/11, there are school/mass shooting crises, so the airport would host active shooter training. Heck, I was at a religious event & we got a bomb threat! So yeah, I care about this stuff. Always know the exits & muster points in case of fire or shooter. Always know where the fire extinguishers are. Yeah maybe some anti anxieties would help take the edge off until you deal with the trauma, then you can go off the meds once you've dealt with it. But lots of anti anxieties & SSRIs take a couple weeks to work hun "you don't have to" ugh so so good She's got to be able to do something to take the edge off while she refuses to deal with it for real...

RC: How worried should I be about Beckett? She’s never snapped at me like that before. JE: ... ??/ . RC: And meant it. JE: Hell, it was bad for me when I came back and I never took a bullet. Except then in s5 they retcon that, espt says to his bud that he took a bullet for him & the bud owes him info on this burner laptop. RC: Well, at least she doesn’t remember it. JE: Or she doesn’t want to remember. RC: JE: A thing like that? It’s easier to just keep in a box. [& yk what? Good for her if that was the case.] This case might bust that box open. RC: So, what can we do? KR: Catch the shooter. ["I will be once jerry tyson is in cuffs"] JE: He’s right. Best thing for everyone, Beckett included. In the meantime, just give her space and don’t take it personally. They all love her sm lmao freaking windows media player he is either taunting you, or he is asking for help, same with the little things he leaves at every scene dna? really? ig it is just a figure of speech

cool ass telescope wow I hate the imperial system sm why would a worker's kid be up here with a paper doll? on top of the sandbag/cement bag, castle. That's how you shoot babe. Adjusting for wind is so technical, it's so smart & difficult. Ooh! Another shooting victim? At the same time that espt is explaining it? So cool! hats off to the writer/director/editor/everyone. Or wait, it is not a NEW shooting, it is the one we already saw. Regardless, I love the audio too.

People are GOING Love how castle makes it sound like it's his idea Loud clap of the elevator doors

HOLY CRAP 92 IS A HECK OF A LOT. Seriously, if you want to get into a fight, get two lines of people, & make em hash it out in a good old fashioned brawl, no weapons, & see who wins. woah kate maybe it is time you step off the case. Ask gates to force her off the case. Beckett would hate you even more, gates, but the rest of the team would thank you.

Hun becks is not the one to ask for his help after accusing him like that. kinda wish we got to see more of espt's interview with the fellow

castle coffee is not a good idea, it makes you shakey & anxious. Wait it's decaf. Decaf is just the grossness of the coffee without the caffeine... I think that castle gave her that magnifying glass oh nvm little point viewing espt's interview with marcus

KB: >:( KR, softly: Hey. We’ll figure it out, okay? ugh so soft & caring wait u can get dna from sweat? Also how do you get the sweat dna without the moleskin dna? wow I just noticed beckett has small ears KB: You know he saw her face when he killed her? People always think that snipers are so removed from their targets. But he wasn’t. He was as close as we are right now, looking through that scope. Wow that's something.

mum didn't even recognize becks here bc she looked so out-of-it tbh I thought this was a dream. esp with where her gun was. fun story (with sui tw): mum got into a car accident on the way to school. The car flipped upside down & she had to push herself against the roof of the car to be able to unbuckle herself & get out. When she was ou ttho, she realized she had to go back in & remove the heavy metal music from the CD player so the media couldn't blame it for the accident. As she was going back in, she cut her hands by crawling on the glass. There was blood dripping down her hands onto her wrists. Mum looked at the car & said "my parents are going to kill me." So rumour got around. Nowtransparent had blood on her wrists! Ntp was bleeding from her wrists, she got cut on her wrists! She said her parents would kill her! Ntp cut her wrists! Ntp cut her wrists on purpose! Ntp killed herself because her parents were going to kill her! Ntp's parents were so mad that she killed herself! & then mum showed up to school & everyone was like "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD" (reminds me, she apparently cut herself when she was younger maybe 13, to see how much it would hurt if she killed herself, because she was an undiagnosed ADHD girl in the 80s.)

You know what, some ppl complain that alexis should not have been the one to figure it out bc there is a team of cops but seriously? I think it doesn't matter & is better for the story & possibly more accurate in some ways too. Tho it just so happens that alexis knows this painter? that part is far fetched. along with the pronunciation. But heck yeah let her live her life it's fine!

Yeah ppl are going to think it is self inflicted. She should really be wearing a more skintight type of sweater, I know she has them, & she should not have bled thru at least not that far. as a SHer I say she could do so much better ryan's so pretty! I'm not a fan of striped shirts but he wears them so often & this one is so pretty. & he has a tie & vest of course. lmao love how beckett is "new york city street name" but ryan is like "church" it warms my folk-catholic heart why are So Many phones ringing & why is nobody answering...? this is the entire homicide department

Well that was scary she was just there on the stretcher... When she took off her jacket I thought for sure she'd have a vest on. she takes off all the stuff to get out of cop mode! that's it! Like how you are only allowed to play with your service dog after you take of their jacket & they clock out. Where is castle tho? He surely would have followed her

This episode is way more esposito involving than I thought it would be. [21:59, INT. PRECINCT, BULLPEN - DAY] RC: She’s spinning out of control. She’s losing her ability to cope. [Esposito blinks at Castle solemnly. The elevator dings & Castle nods to it. The door opens and Beckett hesitates & then steps out, her hands are deep in her pockets.] RC, lowering his voice & stepping closer to Esposito: She should not be on this case. JE: Well, she’s not just going to walk away. [is this man wearing eyeliner btw? bc if he is I love it] RC: No, she’s going to drive herself into the ground. And you’re the only one [Esposito breaks eyecontact] who has any clue as to what she’s going through. So, what helped you? [Esposito looks over to Beckett. Castle follows. Beckett walks to her desk, seemingly shaken. Esposito looks back at Castle & nods.] I'm sure more of them have been shot at some point or another but ig beckett's experience was probs more intense since she almost died. I mean remember when esposito said that ryan was waiting for the other shoe to drop in 4x4 in reference to 3x6?

[22:28, INT. PRECINCT, EVIDENCE ROOM - DAY] KB, hands still deep in her pockets: Espo, what are we doing back here? [I like the nickname espo just fine but the emphasis is on the sito half of it & most nicknames are the emphasized part.] JE: I want to show you something. [Esposito takes out a sniper rifle from under the table.] KB: What is that? JE: The rifle…that shot you. KB, soft & strained: You are way out of line. JE, lifting his fingers to gesture while he holds it: Just look at it. KB: [backs away a bit] No, what the hell are you doing? JE: I’ve been where you are. I know what you’re going through. KB, looking a bit mad now even tho she's on the verge of tears: Javi, I’m fine. [ooh first names] JE, walking slowly closer to her around the table: You’re not fine. You’re just trying to act like you are. [fake it until you make it?] This is just a tool. [Beckett stands with her arms down & out, most fingers are holding her jacket sleeves down but one on each hand is sort of pointing to her.] It’s a hunk of steel. It has no magical powers and the person that fired it is not some all-powerful god. He’s just a guy with a gun. [Beckett either nods or kind of sobs/shakes I can't tell.] Just like the guy we’re hunting now. And like every other bad guy, ["bad guy"] he’s damaged goods. KB: [Blinks, then swallows.] So am I. JE: [eyes flick down to where she was shot for a split second.] That’s right. [Beckett watches him with hurt in her face.] And that’s okay. You think it’s a weakness? [with a firm, almost angry face] Make it a strength. [some things you can do that with but idk abt this... I do like how he does not argue that she is not damaged tho. he says yes you are, we are, & it is not going to break us, it is not going to hold us back. He also says that somehow one can make it into a strength but yk I'm sure he knows what he's talking about.] It’s a part of you. [Beckett cries a single tear. Esposito holds the rifle out for Beckett to take it.] JE: So use it. [The music is solemn. Beckett slowly approaches Esposito who has the rifle extended & she takes the rifle slowly, hands shaking. She sniffs & is crying. Esposito watches her. Beckett makes eye contact & nods. Esposito nods back. He glances down, probably to make sure she has it, then walks away.] Ok so wtf just happened? is THAT what helped u espt? You're just going to leave her now? I'm kind of confused. It was a great great scene tho. Maybe I'll record it for the internet

The nods between castito Man is definitely flashing the camera that coffee cup on purpose

Oh I thought esposito was covering for her, she's actually out here running down a lead. Or not a lead but she's out here with that gun. She just has it & is walking around with it She pulled something? She has a cell phone...

Man just counting money at the table The faces that caspocketto share when becks comes back in <3 Hey mom said she thought the guy had a limp!

Was there some sort of identity switch? He's still my brother

Yeah people are very good at not noticing homeless people

Oh dang that's not an it. Those are many.

Different lighting. The bullets sound like a pack of pencil crayons. Ryan has not changed, is it the same day?

Castle CARES. He is not just in it for the story, he is more useful helping ryan figure out the victims.

I know I'm anti gun with pronouns but dang that is a nice gun. hold on where did they find his car? Was it near where he is rn, getting into position?

lmao high schoolers. I like how the bus driver just smiles back at them too.

I like how the one pedestrian starts running when they see the cops. Esposito goes the other way... Also he gets the big gun lol. Ryan whispering "Come on, come on." & then yelling "Answer your phone, damn it!"

he is NOT going to be there. Or he is & is going to target beckett on purpose. wait this was ONE open suite? It's huge! he isn't going to be in this room either or nvm there's just a random photo of a schoolbus there or wait no he's not here or ok he is then! Wow that was a lot ooh, you see how he kicked her gun off to the side but he has a prosthetic leg? Love it when they have characters with speech impediments & it is not the butt of a joke Just like Mike Royce said, flash your tits! See? He was leaving those dolls there for a reason u r still the enemy kate... Frame rate. They sell highspeed cameras you know. Tho idk how much one would cost for movies. It might have a better frame rate but it might be more pixelated or the colours might be off idk. THAT'S why esposito went to the other roof. He looks stressed af there, see the way he's breathing out?

RC: Just waiting for my partner. Maybe you’ve seen her. Pretty girl, thinks she can leap tall buildings in a single bound, carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet still manages to laugh at some of my jokes. [xd some of my jokes] well castle did push, but he pushed esposito. always <3

girl back in s1 maybe s2 you said it took a year of therapy to get over the fact that your mom was killed & you spent your life then being normal so why can't you go back to that? CB & me: she's dead, u can't let her down I hope he doesn't turn out to be evil.

[peakanss]

saving the enviorment or whatever