#would love to see the entire footage from this bus

[piovascosimo]

blur | when will be married

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

There was a Palestinian terrorist who carried out a shooting attack today, at least 2 people have been murdered and 4 have been injured (at least one, a 16 years old boy, critically). Current reports say they were all civilians standing at a bus station. Witnesses said that the terrorist, who has now been identified as an Arab from East Jeruslem and an Israeli citizen, was sporting an ISIS-styled beard and white cap. An Israeli man (I heard conflicting reports on whether he's a civilian or a reserves soldier) figured out quickly what was happening, got out of his own car, and with his personal pistol managed to neutralize the terrorist (for those who have never dealt with weapons, going up against an assault rifle with a personal pistol is incredibly dangerous, and would usually not be successful given the much greater distance that a rifle can cover. It's pretty astonishing that this man managed to stop the terrorist, save many others, and not get hurt himself).

Yesterday, I wrote about the Nasser hospital in Khan Younis, and why the IDF had to enter it (the hostages and kidnapped bodies Hamas held there). I also heard in an intereview that at least 60 terrorists were arrested there, and today we get the news that out of them, at least 20 arrested terrorists are Hamas members who had personally participated in the Oct 7 massacre.

Yesterday, I heard more than one Israeli journalists wondering why is the UN not picking up humanitarian aid that was allowed into Gaza by Israel. One option is pure incompetence, but another option they brought up is that the UN might be intentionally trying to worsen the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, to prove how much their presence is needed, and to use the crisis as a weapon against Israel, to force it to stop its war against Hamas. According to field reports, the aid which has not been picked up is the content of at least 500 aid trucks (Israel has been allowing 200 aid trucks from Israeli territory into Gaza daily, on top of the aid entering from Egypt, and it's the aid from Israel that hasn't been picked up), so yesterday, that was the third day in a row that the UN has failed to pick up specifically the aid being brought in from Israel's territory. Here's a pic of the undelivered aid, on TV I also saw video footage, and it's incredibly frustrating not to be able to find it anywhere online...

We got confirmation yesterday, that a man who was eliminated in Gaza City the day before by the IDF, was a Hamas commander, specifically the head of a squad that kidnapped men and women from the Nova music festival, and the man in charge of guarding 19 years old Noa Marziano, who was murdered by Hamas in captivity, on the grounds of the Shifa hospital.

Here's footage of a dog serving in Oketz (the IDF's canine unit) in Gaza. A terrorist threw explosives at an Israeli soldier, wounding him, the dog identified the hiding place of the terrorists, caught him, and got the man to shout in Arabic, "I surrender." I knew guys who served in Oketz, I know they raised and trained the dogs, loved them like family, and I even sat with one guy an entire night when he needed to unload his pain over his dog when she was killed in action. The soldiers who serve in Oketz wanted to clarify that they never send their dogs on suicide missions, that they see the dogs as soldiers in every respect, so they have risked their lives to get their dogs out of the line of fire, I remember seeing a wounded dog being carried by the guys from the unit on a stretcher, and the dogs also get a salary and pension for when they retire from their service, often they're adopted by the soldiers who served with them. In this vid, you can see how using the dog saves human lives, both those of soldiers, and that of the terrorist, who gets the chance to surrender:

On the right is 24 years old Rotem Levi.

Rotem was the deputy commander of the unit in charge of blowing up Hamas' terror tunnels. He was killed in battle. An hour before that, he had the chance of calling his wife Shoham (on the left side of the pic) to tell her that he loves her, and that soon, they should get a break in the fighting, and he'd be able to visit their home.

This is 59 years old Yair Ya'akov.

His teenage sons were kidnapped by Hamas, and released in the hostage deal. They kept waiting and fighting for their father to be released as well. Yesterday, we got the news that Yair was murdered on Oct 7, and his body was kidnapped and is held hostage in Gaza. Just think about the cruel emotional abuse, of letting these kids believe their father is still alive, and that they have a chance to be reunited with him alive, when they should have been allowed to at least get to mourn his death.

May their memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[player1064]

Ok after the amazing angst one about their first time might I request a hurt/comfort… I love the complications of them being secretly together as players. Maybe Gary (srry bby) gets injured in a match and it’s scholes that has to tell Jamie and that’s how they come out to their friends or to the world, maybe Jamie’s there, idkkkkkk but something in the following of the SAF finding out one? 😁❤️

tbh like. at this point this is fully just a full length fic. perhaps I'm insane about them...

LOVE the idea of them being together in their playing days. wish I could find footage of Gary breaking his ankle but there's none!!!!!

Set as a sort of prequel to this one from a few days ago

---

17th March 2007

Jamie is on the team bus headed for Birmingham when it happens. Up front, the radio is playing match coverage, but he’s sat further back, he and Stevie too busy holding court with the players sat around them to pay it much attention. It’s always a good idea to keep an eye on what United are doing, but as it stands they’re twenty points clear of Liverpool and are certainly going to get another three today – it’s only Bolton, and they’re at home too.

So, he’s on the bus when it happens, but he doesn’t find out until the team is sat around watching Match of the Day later that evening. Even then, he doesn’t get to see the footage, the only mention that anything happened at all being a short “Gary Neville came off after 11 minutes with an ankle injury.”

His teammates cheer and Jamie tries to laugh along, but all he can think is why hasn’t he texted.

“Reckon that’s him off England squad this summer, then” Stevie says, grinning, “finally, some peace and quiet. An’ they’ll be needing someone to step in for ‘im, Carra, you might get more minutes.”

“I fuckin’ hate playin’ right back,” he groans, rolling his eyes (why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted).

He makes a show of looking at the clock, says something about needing to call his parents to let them know he’s got to the hotel alright, and high-tails it out of there to go back to his and Stevie’s empty room.

Still no texts, so he brings Gary’s number up and calls, pacing the floor while it rings.

It takes longer than usual, but eventually he’s greeted with a quiet “’lo?” and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Are y’alright, love?” he asks quickly, his words rushing together. “Only just heard, else I’d’ve called sooner – what ‘appened? That twat Lineker was so vague.”

There’s a long pause, long enough that Jamie starts to wonder if his signal’s dropped out, and then:

A voice which he now hears is definitely not Gary, saying “this is Scholes.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, and snaps his phone shut.

His phone starts ringing a few seconds later.

Jamie, because maybe he’s a bit stupid, answers it.

“Yeah?”

“Er,” he hears Scholes say, “Who’m I speakin’ to, exactly? Gaz’s only got this number saved as ‘J’.”

“Um,” Jamie says, panicking. “I’m just a friend of ‘is, heard he got injured so wanted to check he were alright.”

“’e’s still waitin’ on some scans, but they reckon it’s broken,” Scholes says. “Gaz doesn’t really have friends, does he, outside of team. An’ you sound –”

“—Okay, good t’hear he’s alright, bye then.”

Jamie snaps his phone shut again and tosses it onto his bed, wipes both hands down his face.

Broken. Fuck. That’s him out for the remainder of the season, then, he’ll be devastated. At least he’s already racked up enough appearances to get a medal when United inevitably win the league, not that the prick needs another one of those.

This thing of theirs, whatever it actually is, it’s not been going on that long. Not even a full year, if you’re ignoring the few mistaken fumbles at England camps over the years and only counting from when they’d made it – not official, exactly, because again Jamie’s not entirely sure what it is they’d be making official – but as close to official as it’s likely to get.

Gary, the prick, would probably give him a smack if he said all that to him. It all comes a lot easier to him, the – the words, and the feelings. Jamie can almost hear him now, why’s everythin’ always so complicated w’you, Jamie, stop bein’ a baby and just admit I’m your boyfriend.

His ankle is probably broken. Jamie should be there.

He has a match tomorrow.

He sits on the end of his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands while he tries to sort through the mess in his head to work out what he’s meant to do. There’s a buzzing in his head that feels so loud he doesn’t notice the soft click of the door opening until there’s a dip in the mattress beside him and Stevie’s hand patting him on the shoulder.

“Y’alright, lad?” he asks gently, shifting his hand to rub firm circles on Jamie’s back. “We’re headin’ down for dinner soon, boss sent me to find you.”

“I’m fine,” he says automatically, but when he looks up he can see the disbelief in Stevie’s face. “I am, I just – if somethin’ happened to Alex, like, if she’d been hurt. Would you go home? Even if you’re meant to be startin’ tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Stevie replies, like he doesn’t even have to think about it. “’Course I would, you know that. She’s – y’know, she’s the mother of my children, in’t she? I’d drop anythin’.”

Jamie groans, puts his face back in his hands. “’s not helpful, Stevie.”

“Well, no, ‘cause you don’t ‘ave kids.” Stevie pauses for a second, frowns. “Unless you –”

“—No!” Jamie says quickly, shaking his head. “Christ, y’think I could ‘ave a secret family? Give us a break. No, it’s just – I dunno, I been seein’ someone, for a little bit now, and somethin’s happened, and – and I feel like I’m meant to go home, aren’t I? Help out? But I –”

“But you can’t miss the game tomorrow,” Stevie finishes for him, because of course he knows that, he knows him, knows how his head works. “So there’s yer answer. Carra, she won’t hold it against you. If she – I mean, does she love you? Are the two of yous, like – why’ve you not said anythin’?”

Jamie feels a twinge of guilt. “’s complicated,” he says with a sigh. “But we – I s’pose so, yeah. I s’pose you might say that we’re – that.”

Stevie, god bless the man, seems to lose any trace of annoyance or upset over being left out of the loop, and throws an arm around Jamie’s shoulder with a grin. “My boy’s in love!” he says, squeezing Jamie tight. “Too much of a prick to tell ‘is best mate, but what else is fuckin’ new? Look, Jay, I know you, don’t I? And if she knows you, then she’ll know you ‘ave to play this game. Long as she’s not dyin’, I’m sure she’ll understand waitin’ ‘til tomorrow evenin’ for you to get home.”

“Ha,” Jamie says humourlessly, still feeling guilt clawing away at his insides, “prob’ly won’t notice if I’m there or not, anyway.”

Stevie pats him on the shoulder one last time and then stands back up, nodding his head towards the door in question.

Jamie gets up too, but they’ve only taken a couple of steps towards the door when another wave of guilt crashes into him and he blurts out “Stevie –”

“I’m bloody starving, Carra, c’mon now.”

“Stevie,” he says again, clenching his fists at his sides. He can’t look at Stevie, is staring up at the ceiling instead as he says “’s not a girl. That I’ve been seein’. That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

There’s a long pause, where it feels like the air between them is humming, and then Stevie just nods and says “okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They make it all the way out of the room and into the lift down to the dining room when Stevie’s brow furrows for a second and then he turns to Jamie, eyes wide.

“Carra,” he says grimly, “please tell me the guy you’ve been seeing that’s got hurt today’s not another footballer.”

Jamie feels himself blush. “Um,” he replies.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jamie, what is wrong w’you?”

*

When Gary is wheeled back into his private hospital room, it’s to the sight of Scholesy sat in an armchair looking thoughtfully at the phone in his hands.

He blinks when he hears Gary come in, looks up with a grimace. “X-ray gone alright?”

Gary shrugs, looks away. “Broken,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Like they thought. Guess it’s gonna be more’n just three weeks out, then.”

Scholesy sighs, deflating slightly. “’m sorry, Gaz.”

“Is what it is. They said I can go home now, at least, so that’s somethin’. You got all my things?”

“Yeah, give us a second,” Scholesy says, turning around to rummage through the pockets of the coat that’s hanging on the back of his chair. He pulls another phone out, opens it up. “I’ll call us a cab, yeah? Want me to stay at yours tonight?”

It takes a second to compute that if the new phone is Scholesy’s, then the one he’d been staring at when Gary came in was –

“Erm. Were there any calls for me, while I was out?”

“Yeah,” Scholesy says, back to sounding sort of distant.

Please be from my mum, Gary thinks desperately, almost wanting to squeeze his eyes shut while he waits for Scholesy to elaborate.

“Um, texts from the family, of course. But just the one call.”

He hands the phone back to Gary, who opens up the call log to see exactly what he was hoping he wouldn’t.

Still, there’s a little glowy feeling in his chest at the fact he’d called.

“Ah,” he says. “Did you, er, d’you speak to him?”

“For a minute,” Scholesy says carefully. “Said he were a friend of yours.”

“Yeah,” Gary says with a relieved chuckle. His idiot boyfriend is good for something, after all. “Yeah, he’s a good friend. Good of him to check up on us.”

Except, then Scholesy adds: “Sounded Scouse.”

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, rubs a hand over his jaw. “Well, can’t hold it against him, I s’pose.”

Except, then Scholesy looks him dead in the eye and says: “Called you ‘love’.”

Fuck,

Fuck.

“Scholesy,” he says, feeling panic rise up inside him, “Scholesy, I can explain –”

“First boyfriend in how many years and it’s a bloody Scouser,” Scholesy mutters, which –

Which isn’t what Gary had thought he’d say, not even close.

“You don’t – you don’t mind that he’s – that he’s a man?”

Scholesy frowns at him like he’s lost his marbles. “Well, what else would he be?”

“I – a woman, Scholesy!” Gary screeches.

“But you’re gay?”

“You’re not meant to know that!”

Scholesy’s eyes flit up towards the ceiling. “Oh my god,” he mutters. He looks back at Gary, voice even. “You are so annoying, d’you know that? Nobody cares about the gay thing.”

“Oh,” Gary says, even though his head is screaming other people know too???

“He sounded worried, your lad on the phone.”

Gary feels himself relax a bit as it finally clicks how nice it is to be able to talk about this. “Yeah,” he says fondly, “’cause he’s bloody stupid.”

Scholesy hums thoughtfully. “What’s ‘is name?”

Ah, right. There is still that one, teeny tiny little problem.

“Um,” he says. “’s name’s Jamie.”

There’s a brief second while Scholesy’s brain works through the complicated equation of ‘Jamie + Scouser’, and Gary can tell the exact moment it computes because his eyes go wide and he says “Carragher?”

[itsdappleagain]

being late for cs weekly is just gonna be my thing now, yeah? im just fashionably late always <3

anyways, its time for: the duke of vermeer caper!

aka the zack messes up and has to cover his ass caper lol. just kidding- he does a pretty damn good job. i also love seeing chase and julia acclimate to acme in this ep! ONTO THE NOTES!

going to talk about the intro being soo hot forever

pls they try so hard to pretend for a minute that the duchess isn't carmen. her first moment onscreen plays carmen's theme song

i like how it goes from our usual personal camera angles to the security cam footage!

it is carmen sandiego, actually

"we had no record of her existence until she showed up here. but we do know what she's called somehow"

fuck you devineaux i love learning about vermeer. good on chief for throwing chase under the bus

i always think of julia as veyr bookish, but she's extremely tech savvy. she's on a tablet or a phone pretty much the entire first episode, she nails acme tech immediately...

blue is totally ur color girl you can rock anything girl

love how they just have that painting out. no protection, bare fingies all over it. carmen "all history is a treasure" sandiego, yet again

it totally is ivy you could rock blonde i think

carmen "here's what we know but i'll explain it to everyone again for the audience's benefit" sandiego

love mime bomb breaking the 4th wall jhgdsajgsh he would

you can compare girl with a pearl earring here to the real one i used for my header. considering they had to animate the paintings, i'd say its a job well done translating them to cs style! maybe somewhat less vibrant, but again- style.

Fun fact: the Dogs Playing Poker wikipedia page mentioned CS

and also calls cleo a princess

player's so proud of his terrible light pun i love him

what a fucking crime that zack deprived us of a high-stakes undercover episode with one of the faculty and a hoarde of dangerous operatives all while carmen was dressed like THIS

quality is terrible sorry but you know. actually what a crime

i love the terror on everyone's faces when everything immediately goes to shit

the thought process zack went through to think that he called, they made and delivered the food within five fucking minutes,,

EVERYONE HIDING IS SO FUNNY TO ME poor ivy has to go back in the closet </3

dash haber is fucking stupid (affectionate)

CARMEN POPPING UP FROM BEHIND THE BAR AND JUST STARING AT HIM IS SO FUNNY SHE'S LIKE Z A C K i also like how zack immediately goes "UH GOTTA THINK OF A COVER UH WE'RE MARRIED" the thought process was just. good job

zack's facial expressions in this episode are so good honestly

i also love how zack went "yeah im from boston" and immediately covered up his boston accent he's so silly

poor carmen wheeze

she went "NO DONT LET HIM DO THAT" and zack threatened murder

imagine only have 33 of vermeer's paintings and not 34 what a loser

the tiny eye flutter dash does when he hangs up is so funny pls

HIS GRIN BEFORE IVY WHACKS HIM WITH THE WIG IS SO

carmen is so chill about what just happened khzghsdgh

idk thought it was interesting i never knew what that was

player what do you think the not so good news is. really and honestly what do you think

the grimace on carmen's face progressively getting deeper as zack fails to not be bostonian is so funny shes just like. eugh

also what did moving his chin possibly help to accomplish

they did zack so dirty with that monkey suit joke shdfjsagsh

carmen is REALLY calling on her cleo childhood for this one. also. poor zack actually

the obsession with making him eat fish please just let him tell them he's allergic

CARMEN IS SO FUCKING HARSH WITH HIM IM SORRY she's like "cleo's going to fucking feed you to her dogs" and then zack works overnight to make this happen and when he comes out all ready she's just like 👁️👄👁️ showtime

its literally 7am i feel so bad for him

"park the fork in my mouth" plays in my head constantly i dont even know why

LOOK AT HIM HE DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE GRIN WITH THE EYEBROWS AND EVERYTHING. NICE JOB ZACK

they didnt go over zack not wearing a tracker before or

pls neither of the girls can drive

girl i know it is impossible to look behind you with the side mirrors in the passenger seat nuh uh no way in hell did she even see devineaux well enough to turn it. also you just took away one of ivy's mirrors nice job carmen

shes so

DIDNT I DO IT FOR YOU...

i wonder, considering carmen's other aliases, what carmen and the crew registered as. did julia see "rogue scarletina" and go hmm might be the duchess

poor julia this season wheeze

"old admirer" youve known about him for one singular week

a "klick" is apparently a kilometer. who knew. its also apparently a military term.

LITERALLY POOR IVY carmen is not treating her crew well this time around

"ahh a drawbridge" WHAT. OTHER KIND OF BRIDGE CAN YOU HACK INTO you wouldn't download a bridge

ivy has some good expressions too actually

i laugh every time at how outraged chase gets between the second and third slo-mo shot of him turning around in the car

THEY LOOK SO SHOCKED HHAHAHA

ARE YOU?? UNDERWATER??

the direction you wish to eject is so funny to me. ejecting out the bottom <3

i love how theyre just standing there like "hmmmmm is devineaux drowning??"

oh my god ivy's driving stick i would be terrified too

i would kill someone to have heard haber say "the hostess with the mostest" pls also he looks so sad about being cut off

okay so.. zack actually can speak italian and i totally forgot about that. he says "good evening, my beautiful countess" which. everyone probably knew already

he's just vomiting back up what carmen said in the hotel jhdgsgsh

the dogs ARE so cute

DASH IN THE BG OFFENDEDLY LOOKING OVER ZACKS SHOULDER AS THEY WALK AWAY

i love dash he's such a rightfully petty bitch about everything

HI LADY DOKUSO AND COUNTERFEITER FROM S3

the cleaners do everything

PLS IVY KNEELING IN THE HALLWAY TO GET THAT VERY CARTOONY SHOT OF THEM POKING OUT FROM BEHIND THE WALL

not the three digit code for the room containing 34 vermeers

have i mentioned that they FLY through this dinner party because holy shit

OKAY NOW IVY WEARS GLOVES WHERE THE HELL WERE THOSE WHEN THEY WERE HANDLING THEM BEFORE

or i wonder if its because zack and ivy are registered citizens and if their fingerprints were found on the vermeers they would be put on wanted lists??

why ivy isn't three centimeters away from the stand with the replacement i will never understand

zack you're literally on the edge of the table you have the easiest water glass to remember

that naughty comment 😭

pls that very polite chuckling around the table

love that they switch from ivy putting the fakes down to carmen doing it. makes. more sense

YEAH OKAY IF THEYRE DOING ONE SWAP A MINUTE THE DINNER PARTY BLOWS THROUGH EVERY COURSE IN LIKE 20 MINUTES OR LESS

also the shape of the vermeer room changes??

cleo glares at her champagne thats so funny

JUST. I KNOW EVERYONE IN THE FANDOM HAS SAID IT BUT JUST SAY YOURE ALLERGIC

they were so wrong for that closeup of dash's lips

ooomg so suspiscious...someone has a different taste than urs??? what the fuck augh

dash is saying the word puke but im staring at his eye makeup its so good. look at that eyeliner and mascara

cleo the worst hostess ever doesn't tell her guest to stop when he looks like he's about to vomit

THE CRIMINAL IN YOUR MIDST LINE IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING THE DEADPAN STARES

the meat cleaver contrasted with the rolling pin

ZACK AIMED RIGHT AT DASH'S FACE SJKFDSSGH

something about how silent that button was is so satisfying

acme has blue gas, vile has green gas, damn carmen needs something

also love how they had the masks at the ready. nice. i wonder what it would have done. knock out or more sinister?

WAIT I NEVER NOTICED DEVINEAUX SKIDDING ON THE ICE AS HE RUNS OUT HAHAHA

yes i believe the phrase is actually implying that two MUST dance that tango

duke of vermeer bad ending: chase gets mauled by dogs <3

love how chase went: hm yes. the woman who just stole 34 paintings is probably on that snowmobile, which has no cargo

lmaoo the calling card

scarlet ski demon

IVY IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IN THIS BIT IM SO IN LOVE WITH HER SHGJHSGHSGDK

RED BRINGS OUT MY EYES AND COATS ARE WARM

at least she sort of offhandedly told him he nailed the role but thats literally the only praise he gets this episode

THE SHOT JUMPING TO THE CHATEAU BEING BURNT TO THE GROUND IS SOOO FUCKING COOL

chief is so disappointed wheeze

i wonder if this case is especially aggravating to chief, considering the last time she watched a vile member's property go up in flames was dexter's house

carmen's already gotten around the world with those puppies

i thought the public wasn't supposed to know that vermeers were even gone hgdashgdsgh

i would have killed for a s4 moment where julia was like "ah your allies! a pleasure to meet you! is the duchess still among you" and everyone just kind of is like. whos gonna tell her

transition sentence <3

this is set up so much like a weekly release show its hard to believe its a netflix exclusive. that cliffhanger with grey is such a week-to-theorize thing

SHADES OF GREY. LIKE. GRAY. GRAY HAM CRACKER?

GET IT

anyways aur naur its crackle

okay yeah. solid episode, not my favorite, some shining moments just like i started with. sweet! sorry its so late anddddd see you next week for the opera in the crikeycore caper

[loverontheleft]

Symphony (Revised)

Original Request: Could you maybe make a one shot and have Brendon be on tour and the reader visits and they sneak off somewhere on the bus to fuck and have to try and be quiet? Then maybe someone from the band catches them?

Brendon x Reader

Warnings: fingering, sex without a condom (that's not advice; be safe and make good choices), voyeurism.

Word count: 3.1k ➡️ 4.5k

-||-

“Maybe if you shift to your left a little? No, come back a bit. Okay, now,” Brendon instructs you, “lift your left leg up and—okay, yes, higher—”

“Brendon, I will fall over if I have to stand like this for more than thirty seconds. And I know we joke that you’re ‘one and done,’ but your one isn’t that quick.”

He kisses you deeply to smother the sound of you both laughing; you’ve been whispering this whole time to avoid getting caught in a what-you-hoped-would-be compromising situation in the bathroom of his band’s tour bus. Instead, you’ve spent the past five minutes each trying to figure out how to position yourself for maximum pleasure but minimal sound.

It hasn’t been going well sexually, but the two of you have been having a blast just trying to have sex. “I need to re-evaluate some of my choices,” you mumble against his lips. He shushes you playfully and you giggle, clutching him and recalling what got you here in the first place.

-||-

Brendon answered your FaceTime request on the first ring. “Hey, darlin!” Your whole heart melted and you smiled wide at the absolute joy on his face. “Damn, you look good.” He eyed you on screen appreciatively, and you laughed, shaking your head.

“Shut up, I do not. I look exhausted.” He made a thinking noise, really hamming it up, before grinning.

“Well that’s why I think you look good. I only see you exhausted after sex. Positive association and whatnot.”

Well, you think to yourself. You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity. “Speaking of sex,” and you let your voice drop suggestively. “I have next Thursday and Friday off. Thought maybe I could come see you? Have a long weekend with my man?”

Brendon’s face lit up. “Hell yes!” You both smiled at his enthusiasm, and then it hit him. He groaned, closing his eyes. “Those aren’t hotel nights.” Your face fell a little, but you smiled again.

“That’s okay, B. I just wanna see you in person and not on my screen. Miss your face.” You pressed your lips towards the camera and he did the same. You both laughed at the cheesiness of your FaceTime kiss and fell into conversation about the logistics of your arrival and both of your days so far until he had to go for sound check.

When your work day ended Wednesday, you headed right to the airport. You showed up at the airport three hours early, but you didn’t care—you were so excited. You’d been texting back and forth all day, and you were glad you decided to take some photos for him early this morning. You took a photo after putting on each piece of clothing, so all you had to do was send them in the reverse order to give him a long distance strip tease.

You’d been sending them throughout the day without any warning, and so far he’d gotten you digitally undressed to your bra and underwear: a matching, lacy turquoise set.

You knew it wasn’t fair; the poor boy wasn’t exactly sitting around just waiting for photos. He had responsibilities, interviews with radio stations, meetings with the GSAs at the high schools in the area, and news stations would be coming by all day to get footage for their evening news shows.

You shouldn’t have teased him. And yet, you sent the photo featuring the straps of your bra dangling off your shoulders, the cleavage a little deeper. His reply came through a minute later, this time as an audio message. You slipped your headphones from your purse to listen. His message started with a soft groan, and your toes curled a little. God, you loved that sound in your ear, and the way his smooth voice consumed your entire mind. “Jesus, honey, you’re just asking for it, aren’t you? Can’t wait to get my hands on those perfect tits once I’ve got my cock in you.”

You didn’t even hesitate in your response; you fired back with the photos of the bra on the floor and the full body shot, sans bra.

Brendon’s next audio message was one choked word: ‘Fuck.’

When you’d finally boarded, you sent him the last four photos in the series: the first with your thumb hooked into the waistband of your panties, the second showing them around your thighs, the third with them pooled by your ankles, and the fourth was another full body shot, this time nude.

Once all four were sent, you turned your phone off. You knew his reply would be filthy and might even contain pictures of his own. You couldn’t handle that on a plane; you weren’t even sure you could handle it once you were safely in your rental car. He didn’t send photos often, but the ones you’d received in your time together were explicit, and they never failed to push you over the edge when you were touching yourself. If he was ever going to send them, it would be now, in response to your teasing.

You also rarely sent suggestive photos; he was always so protective of you and your relationship. It would only take one mistake for a photo to go public, and he didn’t want to subject you to that. And, he’d point out, he had plenty of mental images of you to use in case he needed any ‘visual assistance.’  As wonderful as the few photos you’d sent previously were, he valued your privacy and safety more.

Even so, Brendon seemed happy to be receiving the photos now; all of his replies pointed to him deeply appreciating and enjoying the photos. He hadn’t sent any photos yet, but you had a voicemail waiting for you when you landed, and you felt safe enough listening to it as you walked to the rental car.

You shouldn’t have listened to it. The sound of his hand moving urgently over his lubed cock was audible in the background, and he was telling you all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you once you were in his arms.

Your breath caught in your throat when he started describing how he was going to get you undressed, onto your hands and knees in his bed, and then hold your hips firmly as he filled you over and over again; you braced yourself against the rental car’s door with one hand and reminded yourself to breathe normally. He was describing the various ways he was going to get you to come for him, and you closed your eyes, willing yourself to maintain a sense of composure until you could be alone with him.

The drive was a long one. You were anxious. You definitely weren’t nervous—you’d been together long enough to not be nervous—but anxious, yes. You’d been practically quivering with anticipation; you’d been avoiding Instagram and Twitter and anywhere people might be posting images of him. You wanted to be overwhelmed when you finally saw him. You were already overwhelmed just hearing him get off to your photos, so getting to see him would just add fuel to the fire.

You followed the GPS as you sang along to an older album of his, eyes scanning the road for the giant water tower he’d texted you to use as a landmark. He had a show tonight, so you’d probably make it to the bus a bit before he and the band finished on stage, depending on traffic and timing.

Finally, finally, finally. The water tower loomed off to the right, and you made the turn. After getting through the security gate with the emailed pass from management, you parked next to the bus and flung open your car door. You didn’t even pause to take stock of your appearance; you just wanted to get on the bus and wait for him.

You didn’t have to wait long; moments after the bus doors closed behind you, the echoing roar of the crowd swelled through the night. You guessed he’d be on the bus within ten minutes.

When the bus doors opened and he climbed the stairs, you flung yourself at him. He held you tightly, burying his face in your hair. You both lingered for a moment, just clinging to each other, breathing it in, your chest pressed to his and your heartbeats palpable. “Finally.” His voice was quiet, and he hugged you tightly.

“Finally,” you agreed, your voice breaking a little with emotion. You both knew how much you missed each other, but the reality of holding each other brought the weeks of longing into sharp focus.

You pulled away after a long moment, and stared at him in the leather pants that drove you wild and a button-down shirt you were just itching to tear off of him. “Fuck, you look good.”

He laughed and grabbed your ass, pulling you into him for another kiss. “Don’t use such filthy language,” he teased against your mouth. “It’ll just earn you a spanking.”

You looked at him and raised one eyebrow, pressing your hips forward. “Promise?”

“Fucking love you,” Brendon declared. He deepened the kiss, and you whimpered, starting on the buttons of his shirt.

At that point, the rest of the band piled onto the bus, greeting you enthusiastically and sprawling on the couches. They were talking eagerly about the venue, the crowd’s reaction to certain songs, and the various twists and turns the conversation took as it always did with a collection of creative, high-energy people.

Brendon had pulled you down onto a couch, and you were snuggled against him. His fingers were running up and down your arm lightly, and he nudged you affectionately. “You okay?” He brushed a hand over your hair and you nodded happily. “You’re just being quiet.”

You shrugged, pressing back against him more. “I just like being here. Listening to all of you, the things you think about, the things you say.”

Nicole laughed. “We don’t all need to hear the things Brendon thinks about, because they’re almost always about you and a distinct lack of clothes,” and you groaned, blushing faintly when Mike and Zack joined in on the lighthearted teasing.

Dan and Jake came back from the mini-kitchen in the front, each holding a sandwich. “What’d we miss?” Dan looked around curiously and Nicole giggled, ducking when you tossed a pillow at her playfully.

“Y/n said she liked hearing what we think about and I just made the simple comment that—”

“We don’t all need to hear the porn that makes up Brendon’s thinking?” Dan interrupted her, and she nodded. Dan turned toward the two of you. “Brendon, I notice you’ve been quiet during all of this.”

You could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice. “That would be because I’m busy thinking.” His fingers were moving slower now, and there was something sexier, more sensual about his touch—or maybe you were just thinking dirty thoughts too.

The others groaned at his words and Nicole threw the pillow back. He shifted to roll over you and stood. “I’m gonna go take a shower before I head to bed.” He ignored the comments about cold showers and bent over to kiss you softly. “Come to bed when you’re ready, baby,” he murmured just loud enough for them to hear, and they all groaned as he walked away.

You heard the shower start and shortly after, your phone lit up. He’d texted you, “come back here.” As naturally as you could, you stood and stretched.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed now. Long flight; I’m exhausted,” you told them and headed back to the bunks. You paused by his bunk, where your bag rested, and you loudly scrambled up into it before slipping back out as quietly as you could. Whether or not they fell for it, you weren’t sure, but you’d made an effort at least.

You snuck into the bathroom, and Brendon pulled you in for a heated embrace.

“First, I want to apologize for trading the master bedroom in the back for a recording studio; that was fucking stupid of me. I should have you sprawled on a king-size bed, naked with your ankles on my shoulders and my cock deep in you right now; instead, we’re in this tiny—”

You pressed your lips to his to silence him, and when you pulled back, you were both smiling. “It’s okay, B. We’ll just have to be creative.” You both looked around the tiny bathroom; it was hardly more than the square shower stall, a toilet, and a sink with a medicine cabinet mirror. “Really creative.”

-||-

You look hesitantly at the sink. “Think it can hold me?” He nods without hesitation and you laugh a little. “Thanks, Bren. Let me be more specific. Think it can hold me when I’m getting fucked by you?” You both consider the force and combined weight and thrusting velocity. “I wasn’t good at physics,” you admit, and he laughs quietly.

“Is that physics? Can this sink hold our combined weight while fucking?” You shrug, giggling too. “I mean, it probably can,” Brendon muses. “It is a rockstar’s tour bus after all.”

You laugh and cover your mouth as you settle onto the edge of the sink. “I know you didn’t just call yourself a rockstar.”

He looks playfully offended. “Uh, rude. I’ll remind you that I’ve sold out Madison Square Garden. Women throw their bras at me. I wear leather pants. I’m a rockstar.” You’re both laughing now, but trying to muffle yourselves.

You grin, curl your fingers into the waistband of his pants, and jerk him closer, so he’s between your legs. “You can be a rockstar on stage. Right now though, you’re here, and you’re my boyfriend. Kiss me, Urie.”

“I’m always your boyfriend,” Brendon corrects you. “No matter where I am.”

“Damn right,” you tell him with a laugh. Your mouths meet, and you both have to stifle your groans of satisfaction. His fingers grip your thighs as he presses closer, and you can feel him hard against you even through the leather. His hands inch up until he’s got your leggings in his grasp, and you arch your hips so he can pull them down.

With your leggings and underwear now around your ankles, he tugs your shirt off over your head. He’s unclasping your bra as you work on unbuttoning his shirt. You’ve just finished the last one and are about to push it off his shoulders when he grabs your wrists.

“I’m already naked; you better not be changing your mind about this,” you threaten, and he quickly shakes his head.

“No, I’m definitely not. I promise. Our time is limited though; others are going to want a shower. We should limit the clothing we take off.”

You consider this, tilting your head to the side. “Fair enough. Pants down, cock out.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” Brendon teases, grinning. “I normally expect a bit more romance.” His hands cover the swell of your breasts roughly before moving down so he can rub his fingers against you with one hand while the other works at his pants.

“In,” you insist and you both laugh at your needy tone. He obliges, curling two fingers, and you kiss him to smother your moan. “Harder.” He gives you a dubious look and you feel like you can read his mind. “I won’t be loud, I promise.” He raises an eyebrow and you take one of his hands and press it over your mouth, not restricting your breathing but blocking the sound. “See?” Your voice is muffled against his palm and he shakes his head, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“You’re bad,” he tells you with a grin, but he gives you what you want, fingers going deeper, harder, and slower. You squeeze around his fingers, and he groans, louder than intended. You bring your own hand up to his mouth, and he captures two of your two fingers, sucking hard.

You let your head fall back against the mirror and you tentatively roll your hips into his palm, relishing how his index and middle fingers curl inside you while his thumb plays with your clit. You’re clenching around him, and you’re both moaning, both grateful for the other’s hand.

The shower has been going this whole time, and the small room is steamy, giving everything a dream-like quality; that’s certainly how you’d describe his fingers stroking you. His tongue teases your fingers and you’re pretty sure your eyes just rolled back in your head. In your quick examination of the space, you both ruled out oral, and you’re definitely feeling the loss. His tongue, lips, mouth—the man knows how to work your body, especially when his head is between your legs.

Just the thought of him lapping at your clit pushes you over the edge, and you bite lightly at his palm.

Brendon pulls his fingers out of you, and you remove yours from his mouth so he can replace them with his and taste you. He’s moaning around his fingers and licking with meticulous care, staring at you hungrily. “Tastes so good, baby. Can I make you feel even better?” He brings your fingers back to his mouth and the wet heat of his mouth over your two fingers has your stomach twisting as you nod eagerly.

His hand moves from your mouth and he shoves his pants further down his thighs. Your eyes find his thigh and you whimper, proud of yourself for managing to do so quietly. At home, when you’ve got time and space and privacy, you’ll spend up to an hour grinding on his thigh, sometimes with him clad in his leather pants, other times naked, just really teasing both of you and getting closer and closer to climax until he tells you to come all over him. Even under oath, you don’t think you could give an accurate number as to how many times you’ve brought yourself to a shaking, swear-laden orgasm on his thigh while stroking his cock.

You refocus when you feel the head of his cock pressing against you, and you nod, guiding his hand back over your mouth. “Please,” you say, and you kiss his palm, your way of begging at this point. He thrusts against you, and you both let out soft, broken sighs of pleasure when he goes deep, rocking slowly. His fingers dig into your thigh again, and you can feel the bruises forming; you fucking love it. Your eyes find his; you feel every inch of him, and even as unconventional as this moment is, you want to remember everything about how good he feels inside you right now. Your eyes stay locked on each other; you’re both laser-focused, just feeling.

With you slightly elevated on the sink, his dick is entering from a lower point and a different angle; he’s hitting your G-spot perfectly with each thrust, and you can’t catch your breath from how good it feels. He knows what he’s doing too; his mouth is a vice grip around your fingers and his palm is pressing against your lips a little more firmly.

That’s probably for the best; you’re not able to be as quiet as the moment requires. He presses closer, his torso almost curved over yours, his open shirt hanging on either side of you.

Besides being totally enraptured with each other, the shower spray muffles some sound too, which is probably why neither of you hear the bathroom door slip open or the camera shutter.

It’s all too much, his mouth on your fingers, his hand on your mouth and thigh, his dick rubbing perfectly, right where you need him. “Gonna come,” you tell him, still muffled by his hand, your eyes slipping shut.

Brendon leans forward to kiss you, moving his hand and releasing your fingers from his mouth. The new angle, from his leaning forward, has you shrieking as you feel the sparks go off and radiate through your entire body. His tongue is in your mouth, he’s coming too, and the sensation makes you wild; it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve had him in you like this, had his hips bucking against yours to get deeper and give you everything he’s got. You’re moaning, and you fling a hand across his back, grabbing at his shirt to keep him pressed against you. Everything is heat and fire and trembling, blinding pleasure. Between your orgasm reducing you to a thrashing mess and his cock pulsing into you, you’re completely blissed out.

You’ve never come like this before, even with him— you open your eyes to tell him this, which is when you see it. The glint of the camera lens catches your attention and you scream; not even his hand could’ve muffled that.

Brendon’s head snaps toward the door as he follows your gaze, and you think you’re going to vomit. He’s pulling out of you, and you whine unintentionally; you hate how empty you always feel after he fucks you. But more than the emptiness is your confusion and distraction. Jake and Nicole are in the doorway, and you can see the camera in Jake’s hands. There’s only one explanation here, but you cannot process it. Brendon finds the words though.

“Jesus, Jake, what the fuck?!” Brendon is pissed—no, he’s furious—you can tell. He’s jerked his pants up, and you tug your leggings back into place and grab for your shirt; he shifts to stand in front of you protectively even once you’re dressed. He’s shaking with anger, and you place a hand on his back to sooth him. This is bad.

Nicole peers from under Jake’s arm. “We could hear you fucking from the living room. We flipped a coin to see who got to barge in. If I won, I was gonna ask to join you,” she says with a flirtatious smile and it’s enough to break the tension—almost. You laugh a little, at least. “But,” she continues, “Jake won. We all agreed he should take photos.”

“Then you’re all lucky that we have a show tomorrow and it’s too late to get replacements, because otherwise, you’d all be fucking fired,” Brendon snarls, and you squeeze his shoulder. He’s trembling with rage, but at your touch, you feel his tension ease a bit.

Jake looks like he feels terrible—he holds the camera out to Brendon, clearly a peace offering. Brendon snatches it, fingers already working to delete the images, fury radiating through him. You peek over his shoulder, and you see the photo on the display.

You stop him, your eyes on the screen. “Wait, Brendon, it’s good.” You’re in awe of the shot. It’s the two of you, hands muffling each other, and the way his shirt falls, nothing is visible while plenty is implied. Jake took it right after your eyes slipped shut mid-orgasm, while Brendon’s head was tossed back in bliss. It’s in black and white, and it’s a really great photo.

The next image is almost the same, except Brendon is kissing you deeply, and the way your back arches into him and your hand clutches him says you’re definitely coming hard. However, his shirt once again plays the role of censor and, together with the steam filling the room, it keeps the capture from being explicit. It’s gorgeous, it’s sensual, it’s dreamy, it’s perfect.

You want it. You whisper this to Brendon, your fingers dancing across his back where he’s kept you, shielding you. He turns to look at you now, and his eyes soften. You repeat the request, going on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. You can feel him relax a bit more, and he caresses your face as he returns the kiss. When you part, he searches your face to be sure you’re actually comfortable with this, and you watch him accept it. He passes the camera back to Jake.

“Two things. One, I will fucking fire and then kill you if you ever take photos of Y/n again without her permission.” Brendon’s tone is deceptively light, and the four of you know how serious he is. “Two, I want both of these sent to me in a password-protected zip file as high resolution files, and I want to watch you delete them from your camera and computer after I have them.” He turns to you, eyebrow raised. “Anything else you want, baby?” His voice is soft, indulgent, and sweet; you wrap your arms around him from behind while resting your chin on his shoulder.

You meet Jake’s eyes, and you grin, knowing you’re about to save him. “I want Jake to take still shots when we finally film our sex tape. These are stunning.”

Brendon laughs, and all the tension finally dissolves. You feel his body relax in your grasp, and you snuggle into him. Jake looks much more relieved, and Nicole elbows him. “Dude,” she tells him, “I think you’re gonna live. Let me know if you need an assistant for lighting and shit.” She grins, but Jake still looks pale. Brendon punches him lightly on the shoulder.

“They are great shots. But I will fucking kill you,” he repeats with a smile, leaving the bathroom with his arm around you. He pulls back the curtain of his bunk and helps you up, climbing in after you. Once the divider is closed, you begin the process of stripping; this is the biggest con to bus nights. Getting undressed in bed is near impossible. Normally, you would’ve both changed into pajamas after actually showering, and those would’ve been far easier to tear off of each other. However, given the interruption, the night isn’t proceeding as it normally would.

Once you’re both naked, you collapse beside him, breathing hard. “That was a workout on its own,” you mumble, whimpering happily when Brendon tugs you closer. You throw a leg up over his waist, snuggling close and running a hand over his chest affectionately. “B, those pictures…” and you can feel him tense next to you. “No, nothing’s wrong. I was just going to say, I want them printed on giant canvases for our bedroom.”

He laughs a little, and you think he’s finally relaxing. “Whatever you want, baby. Your body is always a fucking masterpiece, but especially in those photos. You’re fucking incredible. God, you look so good, and you sound so good. I wish you could hear your moans the way I do; they’re like goddamn music. Most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. An absolute symphony of bliss and euphoria and passion.”

You blush, smiling up at him. “Well, you get some credit there too, B. The masterpiece and music wouldn’t be half as good without you running the show. ”

He kisses the top of your head, hand stroking over your bare back. “Darlin, trust me. I’ll conduct that symphony any time.”

[stuckonvenus]

Love In the Time of Calderas, Vol. II

Ginny Scott was the most beautiful girl in the world. For Ridley, that went without saying. Even though it was obvious she tried too hard for others to find her mysterious and an enigma that begged brokenness, he loved that whenever he did get close enough to her, she was more authentic than anyone else he’d met in his entire life. All you needed was the courage to tear down the walls painted in black nail polish and lipstick at the tender age of thirteen, and you’d discover there was a girl who never stopped talking, adored video games and death metal music, and ironically enough lived in a devoutly religious household wherein she was forced to darn church clothes every week in exchange for her Hot Topic garbs. She would have never admitted it, but she was lucky that her avó was lenient enough to allow her to have a style of her own — except for when it concerned her bedroom.

The first time Ridley visited her house, it didn’t seem like Ginny actually lived there. Her room was imbued with pastel yellows, pinks, and blues that contrasted everything else about her. All that remained of her personality was a single Legend of Zelda poster that was taped behind her metal bedframe, like a sort of trophy, and a Wii that was connected to her early 2000s television set. Rather than play spin the bottle or twenty questions or do anything normal thirteen-year-olds would entertain, they took turns on Twilight Princess, playing through the whole game in an afternoon with no regard for the time that had passed. By the time he returned home at 10 P.M., he’d been grounded for two straight months.

Rather than avoid Ginny out of embarrassment, he pursued more unconventional means — or rather, archaic means — of communicating with her. During their shared classes he would pass notes her way; love notes, anecdotes about their teachers and peers, stupid doodles of the trees outside the window, and four letter rants about his next period. One day, while he was trying to initiate the cycle of passing notes, their teacher turned on the TV mounted in the corner of their classroom after answering a phone call at her desk. As Ginny opened the letter teasingly slow, she read the words: GONNA DIE IN HERE, and while chuckling she glanced up at the sizzling screen to see live footage of Yellowstone being engulfed by lava flow. 

They all watched in awe, twenty-five or so students in a Kansas City classroom witnessing the defining moment of the rest of their lives. It seemed as if time had stopped then and there, because nobody moved, nobody said anything, Ridley was beginning to wonder if they’d held their breaths all at once. They were released three hours early, but no one knew what was to come whenever they returned home.

He walked home from his bus stop with more vigor than usual, as he typically dreaded going home since it meant pestering from his mother about what kind of clothes he wore, or how short his beautiful, curly hair was cut, or any other minor flaw she could find with her son that she only ever saw as a daughter. He had a feeling, though, that day would be different. He entered in through the front door and glanced around. “Mom? Dad?” he called out, a lump developing in his throat where he always wished he’d grow an Adam’s Apple. 

Adam came running down the stairs first, a box in his arms. “Riley, good, I’m glad you’re home,” he tried to give a reassuring smile. “We’re just packing up in case things get too close here.” It was most certainly an order given to him by his wife, but Ridley couldn’t exactly blame his father for following them. 

“Can I help?” he asked as he dropped his backpack at his feet. “I can get some clothes from my room.”

“Go do that, buddy,” Adam nodded along, moving toward the garage where Ridley presumed that the car was being loaded up. He couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at the endearing term, knowing if his mother around it would’ve been swiftly corrected. He trotted upstairs and hurried into his father’s office, moving to unlock his desk drawer and take out the cell phone that was repossessed upon being grounded.

He walked across the hall to his bedroom, locking the door behind him so that he could safely contact Ginny without worrying about being interrupted. Shakily, his hands found the keypad and he typed in her number, hoping and praying she would pick up. He hadn’t even realized how much adrenaline was flushing through his veins, igniting his nerves which jumpstarted tremors in his fingers as the phone kept ringing. The second time he dialed the number, he heard noise coming from the other line and stood up straight — as if she could see him.

“Ginny?” he spoke up.

“Riley?” she returned, sounding much less confident than normal. “My avó is freaking out right now. She thinks it’s, like, Revelation or something. She wants us to go to Florida. Are you home?”

Ridley let out a sigh of relief just from hearing her voice, leaning back against his bedroom door. “I am. I don’t know where my parents want us to go. They’re packing up the car now. Maybe — maybe you could come with us.”

“... Or maybe we could just go together.” Ginny said after a pause passed between them. “Y’know? Me and you against the world. We’re more tech savvy than our parents. They’d probably just drag us down.”

He thought about it for longer than he should have, admittedly. It wasn’t that he necessarily thought his parents would bring him down, but... What if he brought them down? He remained silent as he percolated on the idea of running away with Ginny to God knows where, living off of what was left of the earth, being alone but together. As he listened to his parents argue about what to keep at home and what to bring with them, he could hear Ginny’s voice breaking through his thoughts. Riley! Riley! ... Ridley!

“Huh?” he said, furrowing his brows at the name.

“Sorry, that just slipped out,” she apologized. “I just... Always thought that name fit you more. I dunno. Did you wanna? I can — I can meet you at the park and we can drive out east from there. Maybe slum it in the Ozarks for a while, that’s like a shoreline, right?”

Ridley swallowed dryly, slowly nodding to himself. “We can,” he said as he held his cell phone up with an elevated shoulder, moving around his room quickly to shove everything he needed into his old backpack from sixth grade. It still had his initials on the front: R.A.A. He tossed in tee shirts, a sweater, two pairs of jeans, and managed to squeeze in an extra pair of shoes and his sketchbook along with his charcoal in the front pocket before heading downstairs. He hid around a corner while his parents continued arguing, very carefully reaching out to grab the keys to his father’s vintage car that they hardly ever used, but he’d learned how to drive over the summer without his mother.

He slid out the front door and shut it quietly behind him before dashing toward the parked car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s seat. His hands kept shaking until he took a firm hold of the steering wheel after jamming the keys into the ignition. As he tuned the keys, he looked up and watched as his parents began running after him, but before they could catch him he’d forced the gear shift into reverse and peeled out of the driveway, barely clipping his mother’s car as he started to speed down the street; as he watched the other houses pass by in a blur, he saw entire families loading up their lives, one suitcase or box at a time, he saw tears and anguish and confusion, and eventually he had to look away so he could focus on the road ahead. 

“Are you almost here?” Ginny asked on speaker phone while Ridley was narrowly avoiding the red lights that kept flashing at intersections. Thankfully, it seemed like everyone was too preoccupied with their own escape to notice the thirteen-year-old driving a car around Kansas City. 

“I am. I just — I just have to turn this corner—” A sudden jolt sent him half a foot above his seat, the wheels having rolled over a gutter as he miscalculated the turn. He yelped as he grasped onto the seatbelt tightly and lowered his foot from the gas, the car slipping a bit until he finally thought to pull it into park again. “I’m here. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Ginny emerged from the tree line in her white, ironed church clothes, looking entirely unlike herself but still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw her. She was almost like an angel, until she opened her mouth. “Fucking drive, Ridley!” 

And so he fucking drove.

They made it about fifty miles on empty backroads before they needed gas, which Ginny fished out all her money for out of her pocket just so they could fill up the tank for the rest of the drive. He hardly knew how to operate the pump, but eventually he figured it out and secured it back in its place before hurrying out of the gas station parking lot, lest someone notice the two young strangers. He kept driving until the sun set and he had to use his brights to see the world around them; the GPS had lulled Ginny to sleep with its soothing voice, guiding them throughout the Missourian wilderness. He didn’t dare turn on the radio or try and distract himself with anything except his own thoughts, not wanting to disturb her. At the very least, she deserved rest. Maybe he did, too, but he wasn’t going to get it before he got them where they needed to be. 

After a three hour long drive total, he pulled into an abandoned parking structure for the Lake of the Ozarks and reached out to nudge Ginny. 

“Gin,” he whispered. “Ginny. We’re here. We made it.”

Waking up slowly, Ginny rubbed her eyes and glanced around, unable to see the lakes ahead of them with the ash that had begun cluttering the night sky above. “Really?” she asked hoarsely. He reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving her a terrified smile. “... We really made it.”

And if you were to tell that Ridley, right then and there, that within five years they would have braved the unending winter in the Ozarks for half a year before moving further across America in his father’s car until it inevitably shit out on them, survived extreme circumstances crossing into the Appalachians, adopted a pet wolf that would vigilantly watch them at every rest stop they took in the mountains, lost their virginities to each other in a freezing cold cave with almost all their clothes on, found a ship that was taking civilians across the ocean for a hefty price and snuck on board, stepped on European soil only for Ginny to come down with a nasty cough their first week and a worse case of blisters the week after that, if you’d have told him that he had to let someone else kill the most beautiful girl in the world — he wouldn’t have believed you, because how could things go so wrong when they were so right together? 

So, in that moment, as they sat holding hands in the warmth of his father’s car, he smiled at her. And after waking up more, she smiled back.

[seishirokitten]

Travel Habits

Barou Shouei ⚽🖤

There are several things Barou packs to prepare for traveling the country or the world. The first being his trust lemon scented bleach wipes, his own pillow, and most importantly your body wash.

Using it after every game not caring that the scent is soft, floral and sweet. It makes the sheets smell like you, well almost. It is missing you of course but it's as close as he can get. Letting the smell wash over his tired body and he'll fall asleep arms curled around the pillow as he sleeps on it as he would after every home game. His face buried into your chest or throat because you're the only thing that can make him relax. He'll want to video chat no matter what time it is for you or him, he just wants to hear about your day before he falls asleep. Besides you didn't mind seeing his sleepy, grumpy glare illuminated by the light of his phone even if it was 3am for you.

Nagi Seshiro ⚽🖤

Without a doubt Nagi only cares about two things in his bag, his phone and it's charger. Occasionally he'll bring his switch but he's mostly on his phone. There are mobile games to be played and highlights to be watched! He learns the hard way that these drain his battery so quickly so when you got him a battery pack for his phone and a small charging cord that had one of those cute animals protecting the cord by the prongs he brings it with him everywhere. Mostly because he doesn't want his phone to die so he can text you but a lot of it has to do with the way his thumb swipes over the sleeping cat that's lying on its stomach with the charger coming out of it's mouth. How that little squishy animal reminds him of you.

Kunigami Rensuke ⚽🖤

Kunigami always packs extra jerseys for himself. Since he gives the sweaty fabric away after every game and sometimes after a really good goal, even if it's barely ten minutes into the first half. Especially keeps extras after he gave away his jersey and the one back up the team had on hand for him, obviously unable to play the rest of the game shirtless, much to the fan's disappointment.

The other thing he always packs is his muscle roller. Having been stopped before for wanting to bring weights onto the plane, he figured a foam roller wasn't threatening at all. Besides his sore and tight muscles would need it after a good match. Rolling out his hamstring and quad not knowing how many people would PAY to see footage of that. But you're the only one in the world who gets to see it on video chat, trying so hard to focus on him telling you the highlights when all you can see is the fresh sweat dripping down his abs.

Bachria Meguru ⚽🖤

Always has a fluffy blanket, the one you made him, so he can wrap up on the bus or plane and fall right asleep. Not that he had any issues with sleeping wherever his head lies but there was something about the soft fabric you wove together for him that makes his sleep that much deeper. Even going as far as spraying your expensive perfume on the blanket so he can smell you the entire time he's gone.

The other thing he brings is a Polaroid camera, probably the only artsy thing he picked up from his mom was his eye for things. Snapping shots during training or of the view from his hotel room so he could show you in person. You always loved the photos he took but he never saw your eyes light up brighter than after the trip he lost his phone on the plane and bought a disposable camera so he could show you the city he was in. Curled up under the blanket as you excitedly watched him move through the physical photos. So if he forgot his polaroid you best believe he's scouring every store for the outdated disposable cameras.

[laketaj24]

The Business II: Sorry Mama

A/N: Sorry, I promised this Monday! But here it is! It is a little lengthy, but I think it’s worth it. Taglist here. Reqs are open! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, a little pettiness -

Part I

Colson Baker Masterlist

Song Inspo: Sorry Mama, Phem and Machine Gun Kelly

His home made you feel as if your tiny loft apartment above the record store was a fuck up. You didn’t even have a front door in Colorado, and here you were being presented a room bigger than your entire apartment. You sat comfortably on the bed, trying to escape a reality that was smacking you in the face.  

“Interview at the radio station in the morning.” You had out your planner jotting down the long list of his upcoming events and practices. “Shit, he’s going to Cleveland next week.” Did you even have your license? Were you able to fly?

“Busy?” He knocked on the open bedroom door and then leaned his tall body against the door frame.

“Uhm, just making a schedule for the next few days.”

“Are you always awkward as hell?”

You scoffed. “Are you always abrasive?”

“Abrasive, no. Honest, generally yes. I’ve been trying to get you alone for two days.”

“I didn’t know.” You lied. His attempts were blatant; he’d bought you coffee every morning, granted you were his assistant, and he’d attempted conversations with you but him being your boss made it hard to define the lines in whatever you two were doing. “What are you trying to get me alone for?”

“To talk,” Colson walked into your room. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s pretty busy; you travel a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yep, all the time. Are you regretting it?”

“No,” you answered. “You?”

“Nah, I mean, you haven’t gotten me coffee or like done anything yet, but I think you’re cool.”

Your mouth dropped, and he burst into laughter. “Can I do anything for you today, Mr. Baker?”

“For me, no. I’m great. But you can come out of this room and go a few places.”

“My wardrobe is shitty. I’ve washed this outfit three times. And it’s not even mine.”

“It’s clear it’s mine,” he laughed again. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna pay you back.”

“No, the fuck you’re not, meet me downstairs. And you gotta wear your own shoes, you can’t fit mine. I’m like certain you don’t have big feet.”

He disappeared, leaving you in the bedroom by your lonesome. You had been sheltered the past three days, not talking to anyone but Kara, who had nothing good to say. And at this point, it didn’t matter. You just wanted her to stop calling you; she’d left you drunk with a bus full of men and said good luck.

The phone rang again and again; you answered, this time perching it on your shoulder. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Do I sound distraught to you?”

“You don’t have to be a smart ass! You quit your job. You haven’t come home. I was worried.”

“I’ve got a new job; I’m good. Thanks.”

“Being a whore?” She scoffed. “What’s the job?”

“None of your god damn business, you smart-ass arrogant bitch.” The call ended, and the eyes of Rook landed on you. “What?”

“You okay?”

“Oh, I’m better than fine.” You growled. Perhaps you shouldn’t take your anger out on him, but you did. “Can you move?”

“Certainly.” He smirked.

He moved out of the way, and you headed down the stairs; Colson awaited keys in hand and a smile on his face. “Assistant?”

“Colson.”

“Yeah?”

“Are we leaving?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for you and waited for you to go first. You lead the way staring at the array of vehicles in the driveway.

 The store didn’t have everything that you wanted, but you were impressed it offered more than what you expected.” You looked at the black dress, slinkily hanging from the manikin. The satin would hug your curves, but it wouldn’t put them out for everyone to see. You liked it. You touched the soft fabric and then picked it up.

“If you get that dress, you gotta wear it home.” He said from behind you.

“Why is that” You two had not addressed the elephant in the room. You’d rode this man for hours straight and would do it again if he looked at you a certain way. But he was now your boss; there were lines to not cross in business. This was an apparent line that should not be crossed.

“I want my clothes back.” He said with a crooked smile. “So you either wear that or go naked?” Colson shrugged and looked in the body-length mirror in front of him. “You can decide; I think U might win either way.”

“What’s the prize that you win?”

“I don’t know exactly; you've been quiet as hell ever since you got off  the tour bus.”

“I don’t remember how we met.” You admitted.

“You remember nothing?” He cocked a brow. Colson looked at you through the mirror; his face is stoic and unmoving. “You were that fucked up?”

“I’m not a good girl.” You answered. “I figured you knew that.”

“I don’t like good girls, so perfect.” He turned to face you and bit his lip. “You really remember nothing?”

“Is it worth remembering?” You teased.

“I’ll give you a refresher.” Colson pointed to the dress. “Put that on.”

“I’ll don’t think I want it anymore.” You brushed past him and looked up. “I’ll find something I like Colson, you just chill. Isn’t that what you told me you were here for? Just to chill.”

“You’re right; take your time.” Colson gave in quickly with a slight nod, and he moved to the men’s part of the store, not paying you any attention.

You were not a good girl; that made telling him no easy. So if you wanted to fuck him, you could fuck him. But, unfortunately, this was not the time; you barely remembered how this all started. Had it not been for the video footage, you’d be fucked. The feelings were all there, you blushed every time he cracked a smile, and yet you stood in a mental chamber confused about what to do.

You picked up a few items and headed into the changing rooms. They were huge, not like the department storerooms you were accustomed to; there was a mirror and a chair. You hung threw your clothes over the door and picked up the first dress. It was bright yellow, not really what an assistant should wear. You didn’t care. You slid it over your hips, jumping once to get over your ass, and then looked in the mirror. Yellow always looked good on you. You shook your head yes and smiled. Shit…, you were beautiful, hair pulled a messy ass bun and glasses on the tip of your noses, and you were the baddest bitch you’d ever seen in your eyes.

It was a yes for the yellow dress. You tossed it over the door creating a mental yes pile for yourself. It took you about ten minutes to try on every dress. Three yes and two no, it worked for you. Maybe he would find a normal store so you could have leggings; there was no way in hell you were wearing dresses the entire gig. You shimmied out of the last dress and tossed it over the door, and it disappeared, snatched down the moment it hit the door. Then you realized… no clothes were hanging there. Every piece you’d draped over was gone. You stood with your panties in bra with a dropped mouth. The awe was real; he got you. The sneaky man fucking left you helpless.

“Colson!”

“What’s up?” He asked innocently.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Oh, my clothes? They are in the car.”

“Oh my god! You asshole. Give me my clothes.” Your heart dropped as you heard his laughter, and then you joined him. “This is not how you fuck me again.”

“It is, however, how I get you to try this dress on for me.” He hung the black dress over the door. “Please?”

“Fine!”

“Thank you, Y/N. You are so difficult.”

“Mark my words, you sneaky little bastard.”

“Little?”

You snickered. “Big sneaky cocky bastard.”

“Better,” Colson said. “What words am I marking?”

“If you get this pussy… it won’t be today.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.” You took the dress from him and started to get dressed. He somehow guessed your size appropriately, and you didn’t even care; you were impressed. The dress felt as good as you imagined earlier. It fit you right, hitting a few inches above your knee, accentuated your ass, and making your breast pop. This was a club dress for sure, but here you were, walking out the dressing room with it. Colson awaited you in the front of the store, bags in his hand and a wicked smile on his face. “You like it?”

“Fucking love it.” He shook his head and pointed to the clerk. “She’s fine as fuck, right.”

The woman blushed and pulled her hair behind her ear. “It looks good on you!” She beamed.

“Don’t lie; she’s fine as hell.” He walked over to you, draping his long arm around your shoulders. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Road trip.” He took your hand in his and pushed the front door open to the store, and lead you out. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, I could eat too.” The edged sentence hit your pussy immediately, but he just kept walking to the car, ignoring the few people who recognized who he was and opened the door for you. They kept their distance, but the vultures were out and clicking their cameras.

Colson hopped into the car and pointed to your seatbelt. “Buckle up.”

“You're not worried about them?”

“Who?”

“The paparazzi”

“Oh, Nah, they got a job to do. Let them do it.” He shrugged.

“They’ll know about me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He merged into traffic and sighed. “They’ll know you’re my assistant tomorrow at the interview.”

“Right!” You exhaled. Small reality check, you swallowed and looked into the bag. “You have a busy tomorrow lined up, you know that?”

“I do; you do too.”

“Are you sure about having me as your assistant? I can go home; you don’t have to keep being nice to me because a groupie made it back to Cali with you.”

“Nah, you act like you don’t even like me.” He shot you a loo a sped the car up, “You got nothing to worry about, right?”

“That’s right.”

 He got food for the both of you, but he didn’t head back to his place. Instead, you were outside of the city driving up the hills of California; you’d always wanted to come here, so you took in the scenery while mentally going over the schedule again for tomorrow. Colson's hand rested on your thigh, the calloused pads of his fingers stroked playfully up and down your legs. You liked the feeling. It had been a while since you’d felt some guitarist hands on your body. Apparently, he played it more than you gave him credit. He gripped you occasionally and dug into your flesh. Sensual act for someone who had a new girl every three days.

“You’re from Colorado,” He asked as the car slowed at the top of the hill. The plateau gave a good view of the city that thrived a few miles over.

“No, I’m actually from Texas, but I left when I was twenty. My parents were hella strict.” You peeked into the bag of food and grabbed one of his fries.

“Colorado served you well.”

“I just moved there, I went to New York, got a really good job, lost it, and then moved to Colorado with my mom and her new husband. I hate it.”

“Well, good you don’t live there anymore.” Colson parked the car, let his seat back, and took the bag from you.

“You say th-,” Your phone rang. Your mother’s face flashed before you, and you rolled your eyes. “Give me a moment.”

Parents were needed; you knew this, but your mother had criticisms, and if you knew Kara, she’d called your mom to tell her about the last few days. No, you had not answered her calls, and you didn’t intend to deal with it now, but if you knew your mother correctly, she was two seconds from declaring you are missing.

“Hello.” You answered the Facetime call, and your mother did not look impressed, just worried.

“Y/N.” She shook her head. “Where are you? Did you quit your job? Haven’t you been home in days? Are you okay?’

“I am fine.” You shook your head. “I have a new job now, and I will be home soon. I promise.”

“With that, whatever the fuck he is?” She stared at you.

Colson leaned in the frame, “Performer. Hey Miss Y/L/N.”

“I am married now; that’s not my name.” She cut daggers into him. “Walk away from him; I would like to talk to you alone.”

You sighed, “Be back.” You stepped out of the car and walked a few steps from him. You hoped he wouldn’t hear your mom act a complete ass on the line, but she was about to be loud. “Mom.”

“Don’t fucking mom me,” She hissed. “Don’t do this,” She paused. “Come home, now. Tell that tug to give you a ride, and maybe they’ll hire you back at the gas station.”

“You really think your daughter is only worthy of a gas station?” Colson appeared behind you.

“Give me a second.”

“Hang up on her.” He shrugged. “Conversation was over before it started; she didn’t give you a chance to explain anything. She just assumed you were out whoring?” He raised his brow at you. “Conversation was done five seconds ago; hang up.”

“Tell that boy to stay out of this,” She added.

“Mom, I got a job as his assistant.”

“A whore?”

“Okay,” You tried to block her assumption ut. “I will call you back later.”

“Yeah, away from him.” She ended the call.

“You know how to make shit worst!” You stared at him.

“Or better. Fuck her, fuck that little ass gas station. Fuck her calling you a whore.” Colson took your hand and spun you around once; the move resembled dancing. You felt like you were floating; he twirled you back to your chest.

“I didn’t know you were this sweet.” You said, looking up at him.

“I have my moments.” He admitted. He swayed with you. “They’re not as rare as people think.” Colson sighed and lifted you from the ground easily. Your feet dangled as he walked you back to the car and placed you on the hood. “I think this is going to be good for you, so don’t worry about the shit that’s going on back home; this is a good thing.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep meaning that shit too.” He stood in front of you and lifted your chin. “You really don’t remember that fucking kiss.”

“Which one,” You smiled.

“This one,” Colson’s lips met yours, and your breath disappeared as did the need to breathe, and you didn’t instantly remember, but the butterflies were familiar. He cradled your head to give him more access; his tongue dipped into your mouth and met yours. You moaned, tasting him, and fought the urge to wrap your arms around him and moving this along faster.

You pushed him back a little and took a quick breath. “It was that good?”

“Um, that was better.” His face turned a shade of red. “Fuck.”

You two met again, this time with no intention of stopping. Colson’s long fingers moved up the line of your thighs, pulling the soft fabric with it; you raised your ass from the hood of the car and unbuckled his belt. “What’re you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

“Make you forget who you are,” He whispered.  

Were you going to fuck him on the hood of his car? Absolutely. You tugged at the seam of his boxers, tugging on the elastic, and he pulled them down enough for him to spring out from them. Eagerly you stroked him from hilt to tip, and he pushed you back on the hood of the car, fuck warming you up… you were wet enough. He gripped your thighs, pushing them open and running his fingers down the slit of your pussy before he slammed into you.

The sun had started to set, but if anyone wanted a show of you getting fucked they had it, legs open and back arched from the car. He suppressed a growl fucking you slowly. He took pleasure in watching your face contort each time his length went into you. “You’re perfect.”Colson’s tone dropped to a whisper, but that fucking whisper was enough. You wanted to sit up and ride the fuck out of him.

He hit deep, the curve of his cock hitting the right time you bucked against him, spasming, and he’d only been in yu a few minutes. “How many are you gonna give me today?” Colson asked.

“How many do you want?” You rested on your elbows and gave him a smile.

“Everything you fucking got.” He slid out of you and pulled you closer to him, kissing you before he turned you around and bent you over the car and slapped the round globes of your ass. Colson played for a second, slipping one finger into you and then another. You mewled, wiggling your ass against his war cock, coaxing him to slide into you. He played into it, rubbing the head of his cock across your entrance and then sliding back into you.

Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, and you were flushed, relishing his movements. He pushed into you, rounding his and pulling you back onto him. “Look at that pretty pussy.” He hovered over you. “How she’s fucking shaking for me; I think she remembers who daddy is… Let me see if I can make you.”

Was that a challenge? His hand traveled down your back to the line of your ass, and he pushed a finger into you while he continued to fuck you. His pace left you winded, but the feel of the pressure of him being in both had you elated. “Fu-,” You bit your tongue.

“Y/N.” He sung and then slammed into you once more. His finger curved, and you screamed. “Say it for me, call me daddy.”

“Daddy, don’t stop.” You all but sang, and Colson reacted accordingly, making his fingers move expertly to apply just enough pressure, and his cock hit just the right angle. Of course, you fell apart under him, but he didn’t stop, nor did you want him to. You could handle this if this is what he wanted from you.

The thought of him stopping hadn’t crossed his mind; he was too enchanted in watching your ass bounce on him and feeling the shockwaves of the orgasm flow through your pussy onto his cock.

 The evening passed seamlessly; you had worked up an appetite, so you ate, talking about tomorrow, and he drove back to the house. The house was quieter than usual, TVs could be heard, but everyone had separated. “Get some sleep.” He said, opening the front door for you. “we got a busy ass day tomorrow.”

“Will do, good-,” Colson’s lips met yours once more. “Night.”

“Night.” He took the bags from you. “See you tomorrow.”

Your mind raced as you walked up the steps to your room. This was going to be more difficult than you intended, fuck blurred lines--- you could barely see straight.

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12  @jeonsblackgf @fangirl199812 @thatonegrl-1 @isyoongi @honestsycrets @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @cartoonlover101 @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @bowwowzer37 @fandomfic-galore @mayaslifeinabox @hangovercurse  @szaplsdrop @heavenly1927 @mvrylee @canyoubuymetoast @littlelovebug98 @nightgirl250 @psychiccreationtaco @stupendoushairdocloudmuffin @aliendemigods @triplexdoublex @placeoffreedom @amorestevens @brightblaqkkheaven​ @pettyvxbes​ @pacmacs-macs @lostaurorax​

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet

Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.

so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk

anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are

OH NO HE’S CUTE

HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD

“thanks for being all right” the fuck

who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this

how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here

guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready

anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY

LMAOOOOO

listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things

anyways!!

FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw

STOP BEING CUTE

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES

and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT

OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.

BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE

YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY

I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code

:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you

FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION

but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji

so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you

oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck

actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE

WOW DABI

I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM

LOL NEVERMIND

gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped

(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)

HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE

WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT

btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun

OOF

excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE

ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??

AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???

and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it

are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??

that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!

anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights

I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol

so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...

OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH

Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON

NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”

EXCUSE ME WHAT

interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!

looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now

you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols

anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top

and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way

anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”

omfg. YOU GUYS

DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD

ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM

BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE

IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS

HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO

LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!

so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”

OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD

ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE

AHHHHH

OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH

lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC

y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...

  °˖✧◝(￣▿￣)◜✧˖°

[ravennm84]

The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved. 

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu. 

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot? 

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now. 

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door. 

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter. 

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[tetsuroyaoyaoya]

“Uh... what the fuck is she doing here?” Taichi lazily turned his head to the side, in the direction his bandmate was facing. Despite pretty much everyone’s protests, their manager had decided to make the boys travel early, meaning it wasn’t even light outside yet and they were already preparing to board the tour bus.

However, at the sight of you, he perked up dramatically, a smile reaching his face as you waved over in greeting. Semi clearly wasn’t happy with your arrival, the scowl plastered on his pretty face making that painfully evident, but deep down you felt the satisfaction of annoying him, especially after everything he had put you through recently.

You clearly knew what you were in for, dressed in simple sweats and a t-shirt for the ride, a fluffy neck pillow adorning your shoulders. And even with the ungodly hour you had been summoned at, you still seemed as perky as ever; your usual smile decorating your face providing some sort of domino effect as the others began to relax at your demeanour.

“Good. You’re all here.” The boys’ manager popped up behind them from out of nowhere, making Semi jump as a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Y/N? You sure you’re good to go?” Holding your hand to your head in mock salute, you giggled at the man.

“Yessir!” He smiled back at you before ushering you and the boys over the bus, helping you all place your bags in the back. As far as you knew, the majority of the band’s equipment was being transported separately and would arrive the day before the first concert.

Miyagi was a place you had tried to forget about, and yet had willingly accepted to join the band on a two-week trip there, where you were no doubt about to face a few demons from your past, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

You rolled your eyes as you caught Semi’s gaze, the singer attempting to muster up his most hateful glare, although, he couldn’t pretend that he was actually as bothered by your presence as he was trying to let on. It was just the only way that he could hide the excitement building in his chest at the thought of spending two entire weeks with you. Of course, he still had to apologise and make up for everything that he had put you through over the past few weeks, but he was sure that he’d have plenty of chances, seen as you couldn’t exactly run away from him in Miyagi.

It was easy for you to ignore him during the drive, seen as all three of the boys used the opportunity to catch up on the sleep they had missed by getting up so early, meaning that it was a very quiet four hours for you and their manager.

On the way, said manager gave you quick run-down of the schedules and events that the boys were taking part in, as well as the ones you needed to attend and the ones you needed to stay away from at all costs.

Apparently, the promoters had loved your idea of making a tour diary and tasked you with filming and editing the entire thing, meaning you needed to be at every show and interview. However, because of the scandal, interviews and press conferences weren’t the most ideal place for you to be, the risk of getting caught being the highest at events like that. Some other team members would get those clips for you, so you just needed footage from before, during, and after the actual concerts.

While you were elated at having something to do during your trip, it meant that you would have to be around the band a lot more than you had expected to be. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world; you needed to confront your fake boyfriend at some point, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Thankfully, the drive didn’t seem as long as you had expected it to, and you were soon pulling up at the hotel you were to be staying in for the next two weeks. You were really only needed to help the boys settle into their rooms for today, meaning you had the rest of the day to yourself.

“Where are you off to, y/n?” Looking across the hall, you saw the boys walking out of their room, ready to head off to their sound check at the first venue.

“I have a date with a police officer while I’m here.” It wasn’t really a date, and Shirabu already knew about who you were going to meet, but it didn’t hurt to make a certain someone a little jealous while you had the opportunity.

“Are you a criminal now?” Giggling at Taichi as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, you shook your head.

“You don’t have to be a criminal to end up in handcuffs, Chi.” With a final exaggerated wink at the boy, you took your leave, not wanting to be late., leaving Semi practically vibrating in anger, catching Shirabu’s attention.

It was going to be a long sound check.

***

“Sawamura-san!” You waved over at your senior, as you approached, a bright smile decorating your face. It had been years since you had last seen him and the others, having been forced to move to Tokyo in your second year. While you had stayed in contact and made trips to see each other when you could, both of your lives were extremely busy, and it just got to the point where you couldn’t anymore.

“You know not to call me that y/n.” You giggled at the blush forming on his cheeks, already holding your arms up to hug him.

“So how have things been in Miyagi over the years?” The both of you fell into step beside each other, reminding you of the mornings spent walking to school together.

“Buy me a coffee and I might just tell you.”

***

“So you know people on the national team? Seriously? That’s so cool!” Life bustled around you, filling your senses with the welcomed aroma of the café. The man across from you chuckled at your excitement, having missed your bubbly personality.

“It’s a shame you never became Nekoma’s manager. You could have met us at Nationals.” With a sad smile, you shook your head.

“It was a rough time for me that year, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” He nodded in understanding, taking another sip of his drink.

“Speaking of which, I don’t think I ever watched your famous match against Shiratorizawa.” You watched his eyes twinkle at the memory, already preparing to give you the entire rundown of the match. You listened eagerly, having never lost your interest in volleyball, even if you never had time for it in the end.

It wasn’t until Sawamura pulled out his phone to show you the newspaper article that the realisation kicked in.

“Wait… is that…” A familiar head or silver hair stood out from the rest, Shiratorizawa’s number three catching your eye.

“You mean Semi Eita? He’s the lead singer of that band you like right? You never knew?” You stared at the picture with parted lips and wide eyes, having never even thought about asking the boys about their high school years.

“Look, there’s Shirabu Kenjiro, and Taichi Kawanishi as well.” He pointed the two boys out to you and there they were, clear as day on the picture.

“I heard that Shirabu replaced Semi as the main setter in his first year, so I’m surprised they were good enough friends to start a band together after high school.” All of a sudden, the unspoken tension between the two boys made perfect sense. You’d never dared asking about it in case it brought back any painful memories, but apparently it was common knowledge, something that apparently everyone except you knew about.

After the initial shock of the revelation wore off, the two of you continued your conversation, choosing to focus on something else other than high school for the remainder of your time together. However, soon it was time for Sawamura’s night shift at the station, and you really needed to get some rest after your early morning.

With one last goodbye, you parted, leaving you to walk back to the hotel alone. You chose to take the long way, revisiting the familiar streets of your hometown once again, having been away for maybe a bit too long this time.

The scenery hadn’t changed, and that was definitely the thing you were most grateful for. It had always been your favourite part of the town, having spent many a time getting distracted with the view on your way home from school, the evening sunset only emphasising the beauty of the greenery.

What should have been a twenty-minute walk ended up turning into over an hour, and it was almost dark by the time you approached the hotel. You passed a figure lent under a streetlight, your step faltering as you caught their face in your peripheral.

Slowly turning around, you gulped, a sudden fear in your heart that you hadn’t felt since you left Miyagi.

“Long time, no see, babygirl.” The man stepped into the light, fully illuminating the face you knew all too well.

“Yuuji…”

FIFTEEN - MIYAGI

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* updates every monday *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ITS ACTUALLY MONDAY YAYA! I wrote this on a coffee high so please point out any errors if there are any and I'll fix them asap! :)

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[go-hux-yourself]

Regret

So I’m having fun participating in FebuWhump :D This is Day 1′s prompt fill for mind control :D Classic kylux time :) This work titled Regret.

See also on my ao3 here. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here. 

--

He raises the blaster to fire, but Ren already has him pinned in place by the force.

The assassination attempt isn’t entirely a surprise, but the immediate sting of hurt accompanying it certainly is. Kylo knew Hux was bitter-- downright hated him after he’d used the force on him after killing Snoke; both times- but Ren had always assumed that what they’d had had been more.

Yes, their relationship had soured to the point where the memory of desperate kisses and passionate embraces now seems like impossible fantasy, but Ren never thought Hux hated him so much to want to make an actual attempt on his life.

And that’s definitely what this is.

It hurts Ren more than he’s willing to admit, and the fact that Hux isn’t already dead for the attempt tells Kylo a lot more about himself than he’d been aware.

Hux doesn’t fight against the force that has him frozen in place, though. He doesn’t struggle, doesn’t sneer, the unemotional, business-like single-mindedness to move his finger and pull the trigger on the gun his only concern.

It’s part of what stops Ren from murderously lashing out; the uncharacteristic placidness to the assassination attempt. Had Hux gone so cold from him? He’s so detached from the action, even considering their past and what they’d once had.

It’s like a slap to Ren's face.

Some part of him is consumed with an ache beyond soothing; a thing that still craves Hux’s love and attention, wanting to protect and cherish the man even as Hux’s finger still itches to pull the trigger. He can feel it now, the intensity with which Hux wants to shoot him, but nothing else below the surface.

Ren frees Hux’s mouth; frees him enough to speak-- defend his actions, vent his spleen, rage or coldly tell him he deserves it- but no words come.

Hux doesn’t speak. The look in his green eyes is intense, but vacant. He’s still focused on the goal of pulling the trigger, his entire being trying in vain against Ren’s force-hold. It’s all he wants; all he needs.

No, Hux might be doing this, but this wasn’t Hux.

“...Hux.” Ren doesn’t want to kill him for this. He doesn't want to hurt him, either. Even right now, blaster in hand aimed his way, Ren doesn’t want to hurt him. He still wishes he’d never hurt Hux in the first place, but Crait had been the last nail in the coffin, and after that, anything between them had fully withered and died. He’d foolishly allowed it to happen, regretting the distance between them now.

Ren doesn’t bother asking, using the force to enter Hux’s mind to understand what is happening. A deeper dive beneath the general’s one-train track of thoughts finds a compulsion planted firmly in Hux’s brain: shoot Kylo Ren. Shoot him. Shoot him. Must shoot him. Pull the trigger. Shoot him.

Whoever manipulated the general’s mind to try and carry out this assassination attempt must not have been aware that Ren can easily stop blaster bolts in midair. They must have counted on Hux having special proximity to the Supreme Leader. The element of surprise might’ve worked otherwise, but whoever did it clearly didn’t know that Hux hasn’t shared his bed in months.

“Hux…” Ren puts both gloved hands on either side of the other man’s face. He brushes thumbs over his cheeks, but there’s no recognition in his eyes aside from the desire to fire his weapon at his target. It’s his sole purpose at the moment; something Ren needs to snuff it out.

That’s easier said than done, though.

The compulsion to kill Ren is woven deeper into Hux’s mind than he feels safe simply ripping from the man’s head; the desire to shoot him is wrapped up in Hux’s own cognizance of anything Kylo Ren. Should he simply destroy it, he could destroy anything good Hux ever associated with him. ...or even erase himself completely from the general's mind.

It’s a much more complex problem than Ren at first assumed.

“Hux… Hux, I know you’re in there,” Ren growls, but his words fall on deaf ears. He tries to use the force in the man’s mind to snap him out of it and spark some recognition to wake him up from the drive compelling him, but the strain of such a thing has a visible result.

Hux’s nose begins to bleed and his heart rate skyrockets. A migraine pulses in the general’s head, and Hux is consciously numb to it all; to anything not devoted to putting a bolt in the Supreme Leader. The drive to shoot Ren is too important. Hux would accomplish his task at the cost of himself if he had to-- that’s the message here- and Ren realizes that this is far more dangerous than assumed. Someone was going to die, but it wasn’t going to be him, and it wasn’t going to be Hux.

Ren decides to let him pull the trigger.

The bolt goes wide and strikes the durasteel wall. Hux immediately fires another as Ren easily diverts it as well, listening in to the other man’s mind; he’s still noticeably absent. The end goal is not to fire the blaster, after all, but to shoot Ren. Not doing so when Ren is right there is punishing his body for noncompliance.

Ren makes another stupid choice, but it’s the obvious, simple one to make.

As Hux’s next shot finds its mark and hits home, Ren shouts at the pain-- it hurts less than a bowcaster, certainly, but it’s still a blaster set to kill impacting scar tissue- gripping his side with a snarl as he lets his force-hold on Hux go.

The gun clatters to the floor as Hux seems to wake up just as Ren had hoped. He’s blinking, touching at his face, visibly disoriented and confused. He wipes beneath his nose, seeing the glistening red of blood on the black synth leather of his glove. He’s next staring at the blaster he’s just dropped with something akin to dawning horror, like recognition from within a dream. Then his attention is finally drawn to Kylo.

Blood leaves Hux’s already pale face stark white, and makes the smear below his nose that much more brilliant. Ren doesn’t just hear the other man’s thoughts, but he can feel them too, flooding in in tumult after the vacancy that previously occupied his mind.

Fright. Worry. Shock. Concern. Fear. Hux doesn’t know how he got here or what he’s doing here, but he realizes what he’s apparently done, and knows that there’s no explaining it; no excuse he could possibly give to save himself.

That Hux genuinely thinks Ren will kill him-- wonders why he’s still alive- makes the self-appointed Supreme Leader growl in his throat.

“I let you shoot me,” Ren says pointedly, still standing but hunched over himself where he’d been hit in the side. He considers sitting back where he’d been meditating when Hux came in. “...Are you awake now?”

Hux is still rooted to the spot, mind spinning with concern for himself, concern for Ren, disbelief that this was even happening, and disbelief that he’s still alive. “Supreme Leader, I—!”

“Hux.” It’s both an expression of annoyance and pain. Not pain over the shot in his side-- he’s definitely had worse- but the distance between them has never been felt so keenly before, and he understands just how much of a betrayal his actions over Crait had been to the other man. He doesn’t like the look on Hux’s face-- afraid of him and what he might do over what is clearly a failed assassination attempt regardless of reason. He doesn’t want Hux’s fear; he wants to reassure him, soothe him that it’s not his fault.

He’d also really like the burn of the bolt to stop throbbing in his skin, and maybe some bacta to soothe that. The pain serves him no purpose; he doesn’t want to fight with Hux.

Hux’s voice is cautious, standing there looking between Kylo’s face and the blaster wound to the man’s side. “...I swear I don’t know how I came to be here, Ren...”

“I know.”

There’s a few moments of silence then, punctuated by Ren’s heavy breathing and the beat of Hux’s heart in his own ears. “...You let me shoot you…?”

Hux’s eyes linger on the wound Ren has a gloved hand over. Ren isn’t sure what to make of the look on Hux's face. He can feel the other man’s mental walls going up, and he doesn’t push against it, withdrawing from Hux’s mind instead.

Ren decides to lean on his ‘throne’ of a huge chair he’d been meditating in when Hux had first entered. The wound still hurts, but the way he’s leaned is better. “It was either that, or kill you. I have no desire to kill you, Hux. That wasn’t you, besides.”

Hux’s eyes dart to Ren’s own, back once to his injury, and then back to his face. “Ren…”

“A force-user has had access to you somehow…” Ren grimaces as his side twinges painfully. Hux makes an abortive move like he wanted to move towards Kylo, but doesn’t. “One of considerable skill. Security footage will need to be reviewed.”

Hux nods slowly in agreement with that same look on his face; wonder that he wasn’t being strangled to death or cut down with Ren’s lightsaber. He’d been compromised, used by the enemy somehow-- maybe this was even an attempt on his life via Kylo Ren as executioner’s tool- but it would be a lie to say his only worry is what the Supreme Leader might do to him for the fact.

At present it’s not even Hux’s most distressing concern, which is a tell all its own.

“...Ren, may I see that?”

Ren looks up, his heart clenching in wistful longing for the look on Hux’s face. With anyone else it might be a ploy; an attempt to get closer to finish the job. But he knows that look. He nods, and Hux comes close.

Inspecting the wound carefully, eyeing his own marksmanship, Hux frowns. Had it been a slightly different angle, it might’ve hit his heart. He wonders if Ren had diverted the shot to something less-lethal. He hopes the man had had that much sense before letting Hux put a damn blaster bolt in him. “...I’m sorry, Ren.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

The way Hux touches him tentatively at first makes Ren’s throat tighten. He knows that Hux is talking about the wound, but his mind is full of so much more, and all of his personal offenses against the other man. He wants to apologize for all of it-- something he never did- but he doesn’t even know how to start.

Not a day passes that Ren wishes he could take back what happened at Crait. He’s never regretted anything more than how he treated Hux, and how it utterly destroyed them. How he’d taken these kinds of touches as a given in the past; how wistful it makes him now, and lonelier for it.

Hux is skilled at battlefield aid, and the wound is already cauterized from the bolt. Ren’s in no immediate danger, but he gladly lets the general tend to him before Hux says they need to call a med-droid; he definitely needs bacta. Ren agrees, but lets Hux bandage him in the mean time.

This is the first time Hux has touched him since Crait, and his hands are just as gentle on him as ever.

Ren doesn’t ask Hux to leave when the med-droid arrives.

Hux stands by his side, and doesn’t ask to go.

--

my kofi | ao3 main

[alpacaparkaseok]

Where you should be

Chapter 4: Atychiphobia

Genre: Hobi x oc

Warnings: this series contains stalking, blackmail, and similar stressful/fear inducing situations. Also unrequited love, which is perhaps the most terrifying of all.

Word Count: 2.2k

Atychiphobia - an irrational and persistent fear of failing

August 2019

I’ve received two more notes. One was taped onto my studio door before I arrived for the day, another was placed on my keyboard when I left for a couple of minutes to use the restroom.

Bang PD has reviewed the security footage over and over again. The first incident did show a man in a hood and mask, matching the description I offered.

However, the other two times showed different people. A slender woman taping the letter on my door and checking over her shoulder. And a young man, rushing inside my studio when I left and leaving supposedly leaving the note on my keyboard.

As a result of the multiple breaches in security, I now get to have my very own little friend to shadow me while at work.

By little friend, I mean bodyguard. Ha-joon is fairly new to the job, but he’s definitely excited for his new position. I can tell by how he can never stay completely still.

“What time are you taking your lunch today?” He asks me, pacing beside the door. I’ve just lowered the headphones from my head, making a grand show of stretching before swiveling around to face him.

“How about now? Are you hungry?”

Ha-joon’s eyes light up. “Yes. Where should we go?”

I shrug. It’s not very often that I go out for lunch, I’m more the type to just pack a lunch or call up some takeout. However since acquiring a bodyguard that resembles an oversized puppy, I’ve come to learn that he needs to be taken out or else he goes a little crazy.

“Wherever you want, I don’t have a preference.” Following Ha-joon out of the studio, I make sure to lock the door behind me. Ha-joon’s eyes are wide as he looks up and down the hallway, waiting for some stranger to jump out of the shadows.

The air is thick and muggy as we exit the building, the two of us chatting quietly as we head toward the bus stop. Neither of us owns a car, but it’s fine. The bus will take us straight to the downtown area of Seoul where all the good street vendors hang about.

“-so then I graduated just over a year ago. To be honest, I really didn’t expect to be given an assignment so quickly, but-”

“Ha-joon, we’re in public, remember?”

The tall man gives me a sheepish smile. “Right.” We try our best to act like normal friends out in public; there’s no need for people to be wondering why I’ve got a bodyguard.

I fan my face, trying to breathe in the muggy air. “You think it’s gonna rain today? I hope so, this weather is horrible.”

“Probably, but it’s worse after it rains sometimes, don’t you-” Ha-joon is interrupted for the second time when a car pulls up to a stop in front of us, parking illegally in the bus stop area. People all around immediately start whispering and glaring, although nobody has the nerve to approach the shiny car.

Ha-joon steps in front of me, blocking my view before I can remember where I’ve seen that car before. Peeking around his body, I watch as one of the tinted windows rolls down.

“As much as you enjoy taking the bus, I’m not going to let you melt out here.”

My breath catches in my throat as I see Jung Hoseok sitting behind the wheel, Do-yun beside him. Ha-joon exhales, looking visibly relieved that there’s no real threat.

“Hop in,” Doyun says, getting out of the passenger side and gesturing for me to take his place.

I try to give Doyun a look that will soften his heart into letting me sit in the back, but he looks away from me and greets Hajoon. Holding my breath, I duck into the passenger seat.

Hoseok sits tall and rigid despite his show of casualness earlier. I feel like I could throw a bolt of lightning with how charged up I feel, too afraid to move too quickly for fear of exploding. Hajoon is oblivious to my current predicament, although I do catch Doyun’s eye in the rear view mirror.

He’s smirking.

“Where to?” Hoseok asks, quickly driving away from the bus zone. I turn around to look at Hajoon.

“Oh,” my bodyguard speaks up. “We were just going for lunch, I hadn’t decided where, yet.”

“I see.” I think he glances over at me but my eyes are glued to the road, refusing to look anywhere else besides those yellow lines that dot the street. Reminding myself with every line that there are some very clear lines here that I must not cross.

“...don’t mind, right?”

Hoseok’s voice sounds like it’s underwater as I only catch the last few words. Turning to him with wide eyes, I can feel the stares of both Doyun and Hajoon upon me. “I’m sorry, what? I didn’t catch what you said.”

Keeping his attention on the road ahead, Hoseok repeats himself. “I was asking if it was alright if we joined in on your lunch today. Doyun and I have been wanting to try this new place not far from here.”

Ignoring Hajoon’s puppy-dog gaze, I shrug. “That’s fine.”

♟

Sitting around the table, I sit directly across from Hoseok who keeps glancing at me every few seconds. Doyun and Hajoon are swapping stories, which means that Hajoon is practically drooling as Doyun talks about his time as a bodyguard for one of the most famous groups in the world.

It’s nice here. Probably too nice for a simple lunch before heading back to the agency, but I let it slide. Despite the knots in my stomach from Hoseok’s conflicted stare, it’s nice to be on good terms with him again.

He hasn’t reached out to me since I turned down his offer a couple of months again, but my mind has been elsewhere anyway. He’s been busy with work, I’ve been busy with stalkers.

Our food has just arrived when I see Hoseok staring at me, trying to get my attention amidst the neverending conversation between Doyun and Hajoon.

I furrow my brows. “What is it?”

“I think your phone was going off.”

Frowning, I take my phone out of my pocket. I had it on silent, how did he know-

The three occupants at my table appear to be completely engulfed in the meal before them, their eyes wide as they begin to taste the food and offer up their thoughts. I notice Hoseok’s phone sits beside his plate, face down.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Hajoon remarks, glancing over at me with a concerned expression. “Are you feeling alright?”

Setting my phone down and fighting the blush in my cheeks, I start to attack my food. “Sorry, got distracted.”

My blush only deepens when I hear Hoseok’s breathy laugh from across the table, and I stare down my noodles.

Lines, Ha-rin. Remember what side of the line you’re on.

Maybe I can’t resume what relationship we had before. This, however...this might work. Group lunches and harmless conversations might be just enough to help me move on.

As I see how Hoseok’s dark hair falls into his eyes and he brushes it back, looking up at me and smiling, I offer a small smile of my own.

September 2019

In September I learned that I would still love Jung Hoseok even if he did leak the tracks I labored over to the entire world. I also learned that he was still interested in listening to my work.

October 2019

In October I learned that friendships can be salvaged when it’s a true friend. I also learned that there’s more to a name than just letters. 

November 2019

In November I learned that Jung Hoseok will always come through, even if he’s been rejected. 

That little fact made me even more distraught over the fact that I had to reject him in the first place.

December 2019

In December I learned how to set my pride aside and reach out to him first. I also learned that I have very thin walls, because my neighbors were very upset when they heard me yelling at my TV. 

March 2020

I enter the Bighit building with a skip in my step, humming as I head toward my studio. I’ve just settled down in my chair and powered up my computer when Adora appears at my door.

“Hey!” I greet her, grinning wide but my smile slipping away when I see her concerned expression. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Bang PD just called a meeting, he sent me to come grab you.”

My eyes widen as I follow her out into the hallway, Hajoon appearing and walking in front of us. “Are the boys…?”

She knows that I’m asking about BTS, who’ve just returned from their promotions in the states. It’s been a couple of months since I’ve seen them around. Today I was hoping to get to see them. I guess my wish is coming true.

“They’re fine. I think this has more to do with that virus?”

Frowning, I enter the conference room with her, my worries fading as I see Hobi sitting with the rest of his group in the far corner. He looks up at my arrival, giving me a small smile.

Sitting beside Adora, Bang Si Hyuk does a head count before getting down to it. “Thanks for coming up, everybody. I know this wasn’t in the schedule for today, but we really need to talk about some pressing matters here.”

The room is deathly quiet as Bang Si Hyuk begins to explain COVID-19, and possible repercussions. I watch as Yeonjun and Soobin whisper to each other, worried expressions painted on their faces. Namjoon sits up straight, his shoulders tight as he hangs onto every word being said.

When the words ‘tour’ and ‘postponed’ are brought up, the silence is broken by Yoongi. “How long do you think we’ll need to postpone it for? Just until the summer?”

Bang Si Hyuk’s face does little to hide his thoughts. “I...I really don’t know. I just think we have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”

After further discussing our options, we break to head back to work. Hobi heads straight out the door before anyone else, his polite smile hiding his distress.

Heading back to my studio, I debate whether or not I should go up to the top floor and check on him. There’s no doubt in my mind that that’s where he is right now, but I’m not sure if he’s really in the mood to talk. Should I bother him right now? There’s a lot on his mind, I’m sure. And we’ve all got a lot of work to do if we’re going to get ahead of this virus-

“Fancy some fresh air?”

I’m torn from my thoughts as I hear a deep voice from before me. I gasp as the same tall man from all those months ago outside of my apartment complex appears in the doorway of my studio, a smug grin on his face.

Turning around to call out for Hajoon, I hear him clicking his tongue.

“Now, we don’t want to make a scene, do we?”

I scowl at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He chuckles, the sound ugly coming from his mouth. “Cutting right to the point. Good, I like that.” Holding up his phone, he extends it to me. “Take a look for yourself, darling.”

When I don’t budge, he shakes his head as though annoyed with me before tossing his phone. I catch it, keeping one eye on him as I look at the screen.

It’s a photo.

“Feel free to scroll through, there’s more.”

I’m fairly certain that I’ve forgotten how to breathe as photo after photo of Hoseok and I appear. There’s one of the two of us eating in my studio, several of us in the parking lot and getting into his car...there’s even one of the two of us outside his apartment, Hoseok reaching out to steady me as I descend his stairs.

“And?” I muster up the courage to look back up at the man, trying to be as discreet as possible as I move my fingers in order to delete the photos. The man scoffs at me.

“You can delete them if you’d like.”

I pause, mouth dropping as his words hit. “...then-”

“All of these photos are backed up already in my own personal file. They’re ready to be sent off to Dispatch first thing in the morning, along with a write-up of Jung Ha-rin, the coveted producer from a failing company that Bang Si Hyuk bought out for one of his beloved idols.”

My blood begins to boil as I look back down at the last photo. It’s a more recent one, taken just a few months ago when we went out to lunch with Hajoon and Doyun.

I know what it looks like. Hoseok and I smiling at each other across the table, our bodyguards flanking us on either side. Dispatch will tear this apart.

“How about we take a walk together? I’m sure we could come to some sort of agreement, don’t you?” He grins at me, taking a step closer and resulting in me taking a step back. “It won’t take long. Fifteen, twenty minutes tops.”

Sparing the empty hallway one last glance, I take a deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

The man’s smile reminds me of an evil, over the top Disney villain. “Now that’s the golden question.”

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[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 4

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [ Chapter 5 ]

[ Summary: Alya takes Marinette somewhere, and it turns cute. ]

Alya decided that Marinette wasn’t getting out enough despite the fact that they shouldn't be going anywhere when it was still late winter.

“Girl, you hardly go anywhere anyways unless it’s for someone else!” Alya argues as she dragged a snugly bundled Marinette down snow and salt dusted sidewalks.

“Hey, I went to the school’s Valentine’s party last month, that should count for something!”

Allya scoffed at the weak defense. “You were, like, a ninth-wheel, Marinette. Rose and Juleka, Nathaniel and Marc, Mylène and Ivan, Nino and I, we were the wheels on that bus. You on the other hand…” She trailed off to emphasize her point.

Marinette scoffed. “I think you missed a set of wheels, Als. Max and Kim were there. Chloé and Adrien showed up, too.” 

“Max was there sporting an Aro-pride flag pin and keeping Kim company,” Alya shot back. “They were just being single-wheels, together. And Adrien, with Chloé? More like she had kidnapped him to a secondary location! Adrien clearly wasn't the one to decide to show up. And remember the color coded cups? He was using the one for the ‘Single, just here to support my friends’ category. Just like Max, just like you. So my point still stands: You need to get out more often, just for yourself.”

Marinette sighed, relenting. “Fine, but next time, I get to decide where I go, so no more surprise trips.”

“Yesss,” Alya pumped her fist in the air victoriously, her wings spreading out, too. Marinette laughed and pushed her hand back down to her side while she dodged out of the way of one fairly the overexcited wing.

“Anyways, where are we going? You said something about, ‘You’re going to love it, my treat!’” Marinette quoted in an exaggerated mimic of Alya’s voice, causing both girls to burst into giggles.

“Just a café,” Alya says coyly, almost teasingly. It made Marinette squint in suspicion.

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same café you mentioned two weeks ago on the Ladyblog, right? The one they planned to theme after Paris’s new heroes?” Marinette asked, teasing her friend right back with her confident guess.

“You remembered! Yep, that’s the place! And it’s not just any regular themed café, either. It’s a cat café,”Alya revealed dramatically, while spreading her wings again to wrap them both in a mock cocoon of unnecessary but playful secrecy. Marinette balked.

“Wait, so you’re basically taking me to a ‘Chat Blanc emphasis-on-the-Chat’ Café?”

Alya snorted, pulling her wings back. “Yes, but it’s actually called ‘Hero Rescue Café’. They work together with the animal shelters around Paris, most of the cats they have are available for adoption. The profits are even donated back to those shelters to help keep the animals cared for. Isn’t that cool?”

“Mhm,” Marinette nodded along as Alya continued to rave excitedly and lead the way to their destination. I wonder if they’ll have any cats that look like Blanc? Probably not. Blue-eyed white cats were already popular, and no doubt are even more so now. Not that I could adopt a cat anyways, but it’s a niche thought. Wait, why is it a nice thought? It’s not like I like Chat Blanc or anything, no way! I don’t do crushes! Oh, who am I kidding? Marinette groaned in defeat to her own thoughts, making Alya stop talking and look at her.

“Something wrong, Marinette?”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just thinking about how sad I’m going to be if I see a cat I really want to keep but can’t?”

Alya nodded in acceptance of the awkward excuse, and Marinette sighed in relief. I can never tell her about my crush- I’m scared to find out what kind of match-maker she would try to be. Or even worse, tell me I have no chance! I mean, I know I have no chance, but still, ow. Would Ladybug have a chance? Wait, she and I are the same person! If I don’t have a chance, neither does Ladybug! Hold on, why am I even thinking about this!?

“We’re here~!” Alya announced, breaking Marinette free once more from her internal chaos.

“Is that a cat in the window? There’s a cat in the window!” Marinette let herself get distracted by the café and Alya laughed.

“Duh there's a cat in the window, it’s a cat café, what else would be in the window?” She teased, but Marinette only laughed.

“Well I know that, but I can still be excited over a cat, can’t I?”

“Save it for when we go inside,” Alya winked, opening the door for them both. There was a second set of doors past the first, and Marinette realized that they did the smart thing and made an enclosed entryway.

“Oh, this is to keep the cats from dashing outside, like at a dog park,” she mused, making Alya chuckle.

“Yeah, and gives people a fur-free place to hang up their coats. Oh, look!” She added excitedly, pointing to the opposite wall from the hanger rod. There was something that almost looked like a long shawl or a barber cape. Marinette recognized it easily. “They have wing-covers for patrons to borrow, in case we don’t want the cat’s playing with our feathers. That’s so thoughtful. They really went all-out on this place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded in agreement as she slid off her jacket and hung it up. “It really is sweet of them. Are you going to use one?” Alya shook her head.

“Nope. My wing’s are tough, I can handle a few clingy kitties,” she declared with a proud smile, and Marinette only chuckled as she opened the next set of doors for them both.

Unsurprisingly, Marinette enjoyed the café. She spent a lot of time admiring their logo that was embedded in the resin coating of their tables. The stylized lettering was inspired by some of the animal-themed Akumas. Then the entire name was encircled by the white belt of Chat Blanc and the red and black yo-yo of Ladybug. Symbolic of two heroes saving those in need. They really thought this out. Maybe Ladybug should show her respect here some time.

Surprisingly, the café’s cats also enjoyed Marinette. Alya was convinced they had met every single cat in the building before they even got their drinks. Marinette was just embarrassed and spent a lot of time spreading her attention between each feline before shooing them all off towards other guests. One of the cats, sleek black with yellow-flecked green eyes, was too stubborn to leave, so she let him claim her lap indefinitely. 

But, completely unbelievably, the café got a surprise guest. Chat Blanc himself showed up out of the blue. Alya had spotted him running across a rooftop across the street, and proceeded to book it out the door, fly after him, and then shamelessly ask to take a photo of him with the cats that were inside the café inspired by him and his partner. He was stunned at first, but agreed, soon enough beaming happily as he surrounded himself with cats.

“Is he crying?” Marinette whispered to Alya as she recorded the feline hero sitting on the floor with at least five different cats climbing his back, shoulders, and into his lap.

“The happiest tears I’ve ever seen,” Alya confirmed.

Once Alya was satisfied she had taken enough pictures and video footage for the blog, she turned her focus to getting a few personal memorabilias.

“Mari! Come here! Take a pic of me with Chat, please? I want something for my desktop background, this would be perfect!”

Marinette agreed, to the annoyance of the cat in her lap. She managed to get the photo, a cute scene of Alya, her nerdy school friend, and Chat Blanc, her dorky friend-but-only-because-she’s-secretly-Ladybug, doing a silly pose with their arms linked, wings flared out, and several cats surrounding them.

She gave a thumbs up, and Alya whooped, standing to take back the phone. Marinette stepped forward, only for the clingy black cat from earlier to entangle himself with her ankles.

With a squawk, she went tumbling, but was deftly caught in the arms of Chat before she could meet an untimely end via a floor of cats.

Marinette flushed scarlet. Chat Blanc smiled shyly. The black cat jumped up on them, getting his lap-seat back. Alya, of course, got another photo.

All three of them managed to laugh it off, but not without Alya demanding another picture of the two and the cats before she would let them stand up.

“Marinette, I’m texting you copies to keep for yourself. Sorry, Chat, I’d send you some but-”

“No worries,” he chuckled and rubbed his neck, waving her concern away with his other hand. “Secret identity means secret number. You’ll be using your own pictures on your computer, though, right? Consider me honored by that,” he bowed dramatically and the two laughed as he straightened. “And Marinette, I’d be more than happy to let you do the same if you wanted, too,” he played the comment off with a wink.

“Time for me to go,” Chat Blanc continued before either girl could respond. “Chat out!”

They watched him dash out the doors and off over the rooftops.

“Girl...Did he just flirt with you?” Alya looked at Marinette, awestruck.

“What? No! There’s no way! Nope!” Marinette flustered and started walking out in a feeble attempt to escape the accusation.

“Uh-huh, because feeling ‘honored’ to be a screensaver for one girl and being ‘happy’ in case it were to happen by a second girl, is totally the same thing,” Alya followed after, determined to tease the life out of Marinette.

“Yes, exactly! Completely the same! It would have just been awkward to say the same line twice, so he just reworded himself, that's all! He was just giving permission to use his picture for personal use, nothing more, nope!”

Alya laughed before winking playfully. “Yeah, girl, sure. That was all, nothing more, nothing less. Whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded in finality, ignoring the teasing sarcasm from her friend.

Later that day, Marinette saved one of the café photos as her phone’s background, making sure to put a completely different photo as her lockscreen to avoid any further notice or teasing about her and Chat Blanc.

[popculturebuffet]

The Three Caballeros Ride Again Review!: And Ladies (Ride of the Three Caballeros)

Saludos Amigos! I’m back with yet another comics review! And we’re back on The Ride of the Three Cablleros! Thanks again to WeirdKev27 for commissioning this retrospective. It’s going to get pricey and I greatly appreciate it.  PREVIOUSLY ON RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS 

In short.. a bunch of short segments of varying quality, a very thirsty Donald hitting on ladies, the first appearance of Panchito and some very good music. A fun time was had by all. Along with a LOT OF drugs by the Disney Animators. The film wasn’t a huge success, but out of the 6 package films, it was a fan faviorite alongside the Mr. Toad and Ichabod movie, and thus was rereleased quite a bit, as well as being one of the first of this era to end up on VHS due to it’s cult popularity.  As for Panchito and Jose they’d get plenty of success overseas, with both getting solo series in their respective home countries, Jose himself having just resumed having comics again this year, and being rightfully massive characters. But despite being a hit with fans across the world.. in the US... they were pretty much shoved in the Disney Vault for a few decades. Jose would show up on the Wonderful World of Disney, in it’s various forms, three times after the Three Caballeros while Panchito just vanished aside from reuses of the Three Caballeros footage. Their careers in the US just sorta vanished for a few decades. But as suddenly as they vanished, our boys returned triumphantly. Naturally being the most used out of the duo, Jose would show up for the first time in decades during Mickey Mouseworks, a show full of new late 90′s produced Mickey Mouse shorts, all but two of which would end up being recycled for the much more popular and well loved House of Mouse, which would feature the triumphant return of the Cabs to animation after so long away. We’ll get to that next time, as just a year before the Cabs had already reunited in the pages of Walt Disney’s Comics and Stories in one of Don Rosa’s best loved tales. The Ride of The Three Caballeros was something Don Rosa had wanted to do since he got the job writing Duck Comics in the first place. As he explained in the back of the complete library edition named after this tale, Uncle Keno isn’t the biggest fan of the Donald Theatrical shorts. Having experienced the Carl Barks comics first, and having built his career around them later, he just wasn’t a fan of the goofier, angrier, less nuanced theatrical short Donald, often feeling like he was an entirely different character from the one he loved. And.. honestly he’s not wrong. Both were built for entirely different kinds of comedy: While both did slapstick, Slapstick, along with standard comedy shenanigans, was the main weapon in Shorts Donald’s comedic arsenal. Barksian Donald, while not immune to slapstick, was more like a well built sitcom character: Multi layered, sympathetic when he needs to be, but still having tons of faults to be exploited for laughs and to play off other characters. As a result while I like Donald in the shorts I do prefer Barks version of him, and the shorts Barks did are usually the best of both worlds, combining Donald’s everyman schtick with his slapstick schtick. Of course later cartoons would pick one or the other or combine both, but I do get his point and at the time he wrote this story the only cartoon show starring Donald was.. Quack Pack.. which I can only imagine his reaction to seeing that train wreck. 

But as you can probably guess there was one exception and it was The Three Caballeros. Don genuinely enjoys the beautiful music and the wonderful chemistry the three have. So after a trip to Mexico gave him the perfect setting and the fire in his belly to finally do it, he finally wrote the story. And since they weren’t Barksian characters and hadn’t had any other apperances in decade, Don also took a dive into their comics. Since Jose was more of a fancifial freeloader in his comics, Don decided to ignore this characterization and go with his own based on the film: A latin playboy and lounge singer. And i’m okay with him doing that, as unlike say with Marvel and DC when they destroy a character, Disney characters are both more fluid continuity wise and his is still rooted in a version of the character, and he’s fully accepting and apologetic that some fans hate him for this. Also for some damn reason they redesigned Jose at some point in his Brazil to look like this:

This is far from the dumbest comic book costume change i’ve seen, but it’s certainly one of the most lame, as his original outfit is dapper, stylish and fits the Brazilian version of him well. And it’s not like you CAN’T update the classic Disney characters with modern appearances. Quack Pack, which has somehow come up twice in this review, did so great with Donald and Daisy, giving them new clothes and a haircut in Daisy’s case but both still look great. Same with Goofy for Goof Troop who just wore a dad sweater and bow tie, which puts him in the small but significant club of “Bow Tie Wearing Characters who have defined my life” with Opus the Penguin and the 11th Doctor. You can update a classic character’s’s appearance without coming off like...

Which given Jose’s outfit there is horrifyingly similar, says something. Anyways, Rosa had more use for Panchito’s stories, which had him as a cowboy protecting small towns with the help of his trusty steed Senor Martinez. Rosa loved both aspects and thus used them here, with Martinez getting a makeover to fit Rosa’s style better. Rosa is also the one to popularize Panchito’s last name, having found it on a scrap of research, not realizing the character’s last name was not at all widespread and thus giving him a canon one that has stuck to this day, and sighing in relief when he finally got conformation from another fan this name was indeed something Disney had used after loosing his research scrap.  So with the two boys characters set, a plot set up and a whole sequence planned we’ll talk about on the way “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!” was born. How good is it? Well join me under the cut and i’ll tell you. 

We open in Mexico, specifically near the Barranca Del Cobre, aka The “Copper Canyon” of the Sierra Madre, a natural land formation simlar to the Grand Canyon that Don Rosa saw during his trip and thought would make a great setting. While larger than the Grand Canyon, Rosa figures in his notes it simply isn’t as popular because it’s more isolated than the Grand Canyon and that, combined with it having trees inside distracting from it’s rugged beauty, makes it much harder to build a tourist industry around. The four are headed to El Divisadero, because this comic is determined to kill me with it’s difficult to spell names apparently, where Huey, Dewey or Louie spouts off for no particular reason about the currently being built Chihuahua El Pacifico Railway. Seriously the boys might as well be the security guard from Wayne’s World in this comic, their role for most of their brief page time is just to set up stuff for later. I mean i’m fine with setting up your setting but there are better ways than just spouting off tons of exposition apropos of nothing. 

Donald has driven the boys here for a Woodchuck Jamboree. I did actually look into Jamborees, as before this it only had ever come up in one of my favorite movies of all time, Moonrise Kingdom, and mentioned occasionally in the Ducktales Reboot. Jamboree was first used for a worldwide scouting Jamboree but has gone on to mean a huge gathering of scouts, with the Boy Scouts of America having one every four years, so odds are it’s just a big yearly or quarter yearly thing for the woodchucks. Still it would be nice to see a big gathering like this in the series, especially since several of our cast are involved in them, including the possible power trio of Huey, Violet and Boyd, and Della and Launchpad could easily be slotted into the plot as seen in this season’s premiere.. as could Dewey and Louie if they really want to since according to Frank their members.. they just aren’t nearly as invested as their brother, and thus  don’t do Woodchuck stuff unless he drags them into it, as seen with “Day of the Only Child” in the series itself. It does make sense: Dewey doesn’t have the survival instinct or patience for camping, and Louie hates effort, the out doors, and doing things for anything but profit. Scouting is all of that.  So the boys have driven all this way for the Mexican Jamboree, as they’ve been carefully raising their tarantula Tara, and the Tarantula Breeding Badge is only given out in Mexico, which is plausible: Different branches of a worldwide organization would have different awards and what not in different countries. And Tarantula’s are also native to mexico so that makes sense.. and I want you to apricate that I’m afraid of spiders, not cartoony ones, for instance, this is adorable. 

Galvantula4Life. But real life ones or realistic looking ones? Yeah no fuck that. So I had to go to the Wikipedia entry and see several horrifying looking sizeable spiders for this one tiny fact. Your welcome. Tara ends up on Donald’s face with the boys assuming Donald is sad to see her go instead of you know FUCKING TERRIFIED A GIANT SPIDER IS ON HIS FACE. This gag does not work.. but probably because as I said i’m afraid of spiders and this is my nightmare, you little sociopaths. 

The boys however worry about what Donald will do for the weekend as they prepare to board the bus to the Jamboree... why it’s meeting in an out of the way town like this I have no idea, but i’d guess plot convince. They realize he has no friends, which Donald shrugs off, and they REALLY shouldn’t say to his face, but ruminate on it once he leaves to do whatever after vaguely talking about friends he had in the past. 

I like this scene even though it annoys me a bit: Ilike it because it does set up how Donald really DOSEN’T have any friends in the comics. It’s part of WHY Rosa was drawn to the Cabs: Their one of the few equal relationships donald’s ever had, people who treat him as a partner, in both sense probably, a friend, a true amigo. As the boys point out Scrooge is a monster to him in the comics, paying him 30 cents an hour which I actually put into an inflation calculator to get an accurate read on how little that was by 2020 standards.. and it’s 3 dollars an hour. Hence why I call him a monster, why that bit hasn’t aged well, and why Rosa REALLY, REALLY should’ve retired it. It dosen’t help reading that knowing Disney largely treated Rosa the same way is cringe inducing at best, if not for any fault of his own. It being cringe inducing for an employer horribly mistreating and underpaying his employees though is his fault, he’s a grown ass man, even in the 90′s this had to be a problem, be better. 

And yes i’m being hard on Don Rosa but just like with the comics thing, I simply expect better from the man given just how much respect I have for the guy. His art is gorgeous, his research is immaculate, his knowledge of old films is wonderful and his love for them so infectious i’m tempted to seek the ones he’s mentioned in notes out. He’s a truly wonderful guy and one of my faviorite comic writers.. but I have to treat him fairly like I do ANY of my idols. Just to prove that, I love Grant Morrison, especially his run on New X-Men, but a lot of it hasn’t aged well including some of the language and the entire subplot with Emma manipulating Scott into having an affair when he wasn’t in the best mental place and she knew that and was acting as his therapist, and treating that as a regular affair REALLY doesn’t play well nor should it have. I love Al Ewing, with all my heart and soul, but his run on Ultimates, while having some great worldbuilding and a spectacular cast, ultimately wasn’t very good after the first arc. Not terrible but not good. John Aliison, of Scary Go Round and Giant Days fame, while impressive has had plenty of stories I just didn’t like for various reasons and will probably get into some day and some parts of his stories haven’t aged well. It’s the hard but necessary part of being a critic: You have to be objective and see all the parts of a creator’s creation, not just the ones you like and call them out when they screw up. To me being a fan isn’t about just blindly loving something, it’s about knowing WHY you love it and being willing to call out faults while still thoroughly enjoying the work. There’s a fine line between being blindly loyal to someone, which has created Zach Snyder's awful cult of personality that I hate so much, and being an overly critical shithead and I hope I’m straddling that line. 

Back on the scene after that filibuster they point out Gladstone, who himself is a monster to me for how he doesn’t lift a finger to help his nephews or cousin, and constnatly flaunts his luck to Donald, and is a bit more than teasing especially since he tried to, you know, steal your house once boys. That’s canon.. that’s a barks story so it’s canon here. You.. You remember that right? He tried to steal your house. And we will be getting to that one next month, just you wait.  Finally the Daisy part that annoys me slightly. The boys being sexist.. was sadly the style at the time this story is set, the 1950′s, and thus plays better for me than it does in Ducktales, as their just little boys and don’t know better. Them assuming Girlfriends aren’t like having friends, while accurate though does bother me a bit, but only because the way this story treats Donald’s relationship is PRETTTTTYYYY bad and this sets that up. But we’ll get to that.  Thankfully this foreshadowing of terrors to come is quickly forgotten as we get a GENUINELY great two panels of Donald lamenting his lack of friends. It just works really well, selling his loneliness and how isolated he truly feels without any, which while I have friends I can relate to as I only really hang out with on regularly. 

This is what I was talking about. While I will point out Rosa’s flaws.. their truly outweighed but his artistic mastery. In just three panels he really has a truly emotional and heartrending scene, and just that one close up among them is all we need to get the true depths of Donald’s loneliness. I can be hard on the guy, but it’s because he’s one of the best there is, best there was, and best there ever will be and thus I hold him to a high standard.  But with that we transition to...

Or rather first his boss at the hotel, whose pissed his headliner has skipped out on him again to woo a lady, and while he plans to fire the guy, only isn’t throttling him because he figures one of his “Senorita’s” boyfriends will do that for him. And while I do like Jose as a playboy i’m not really fond of him trying to have sex with someone in a relationship, as it puts both him and the person he’s having an affair with in a really bad light. It does fit the character, I just don’t have to like it. As for this particular Senorita, it turns out her boyfriend is a notorious Bandito and is thankfully out of town. So yes, Jose is essentially acting out Come A Little Bit Closer by Jay and the Americans. 

Naturally just like the song, said Bad Man returns, Alfonso “Gold Hat” Bedoya, a machete wielding baddie who while understandably pissed about another man making time with his girlfriend, is less understandably about to murder Jose. Though unlike the song, Alfonso’s Lady, rather than help Jose, encourages her boyfriend to murder him and clearly has a fetish for cheating on her boyfriend with various men and watching as he kills him which.. Jesus. This is why while I don’t LIKE the idea of Jose hitting on women in a relationship it does work here, as he’s still not nearly as bad as either of these two, so it evens out. Jose escapes with his umbrella but crashes.. right into the back of Donald’s car. Rosa, Alfonso’s lady, encourages him to murder both of them for funsies, and being a brutal thug, Alfonso obliges and shoots at the car. And since, to quote the duck himself, Donald doesn’t like being killed “Even a little”, he books it out of there. 

Alfonso doesn’t peruse them though. He’s on the trail of a treasure hunter who has a map to the lost town of Tayopa, which contains untold silver, but before he can do that he has important buisness to get to. 

I fucking love that gag and that Rosa snuck more adult gags in there knowing plenty of Duck Fans, such as myself, are grown men, women and others who can handle this sort of thing, while still slippnig it past the kids. 

Donald, once the fear’s worn off a bit, starts to wonder WHY he’s running when he’s not the one who pissed off the guy, and ignores Jose’s good point about the fact Alfonso really dosen’t seem like a guy who sees nuance.. until Donald sees a wanted poster for Alphonoso and keeps driving. He eventually gets far enough away to feel safe.. and confront the guy who got him into this mess. 

Now kiss. While sadly, they do not, we do get a lovely warm reunion between old pals. Rosa keeps their past vauge as, correctly, he pointed out in his authors notes that the Cabs movie really had no plot, accurate, so instead just vaguely alluded to Donald having known the two in his pre-daisy and boys past and likely had similar adventures to the movie, but adapted more for Rosa’s barksian universe. Jose explains he often finds himself cash poor and thus hits the road to drum up some money, and Mexico is a great place for that as it has plenty of tourist money. 

Though as Jose talks about their past we get the most uncomfortable running gag of the story. 

While Donald’s paranoia here is played for laughs.. it just.. isn’t all that funny that Donald’s relationship with Daisy in the Rosa canon is apparently sooooo deeply unhealthy that just HEARING about him having a romantic past before him, as Rosa confirmed this was pre-daisy in his notes, causes Donald to panic and worry she actually somehow heard this. It just isn’t funny.. it speaks of MASSIVE relationship issues and some form of domestic abuse on Rosa!Daisy’s part. It’s stuff like this why there’s only a handful of Donsy relationships I like: Her treating him like shit is reduced to a punchline, instead of being used for character growth. It’s also why I’m deeply dreading covering “Legend of the Three Cablleros” at the end of this retrospective. I just don’t like when Disney media treats Daisy expecting too much of Donald or being hyper jealous of him as hilarious and while I take this more as the story not ageing well rather than barks fault, as since then Domestic Abuse against Males has become a more widely known and talked about issue, it still doesn’t’t make it plesant. It just makes this not entirely his fault. Just like it’s not Stan Lee’s fault this panel is both deeply hilarious and uses a now kinda racist term. 

I named an entire youtube channel after that.. we all have our regrets. I also bring it up since currently Harry’s become terrifying villain Kindred... and thus the current big bad of an entire Spider-Man run and the being hopefully bringing one more day into the light and hopefully leading to it’s undoing.. once had a goofy mustache he genuinely referred to a “Fu Manchu Face Fuzz” that for all we know he regrew under the mask. 

Donald fondly remembers the old days of being a badass adventuring team and decides, screw it, let’s go show that Gold Hatted Paloka whose boss.. but being Donald ends up driving them into The Copper Canyon instead. Our heroes end up lost in the canyon and , fitting for Donald get shot at. I can only imagine his thoughts right now. 

Their mysterious attacker threatens them.. before revealing himself to be Panchito, whose glad to see his friends having mistook them for Alfonso. Turns out HE’S the mysterious treasure hunter Alfonoso was after, to no one’s surprise. We get another deeply unfunny “Daisy’s only a thousand miles away gag” as the boys reminisce and get introduced to Panchito’s horse, Senior Martniez. He also tells the boy about his map.. but how he’s hit a snag as the lost town where the silver, from a silver mine.. is now buried under pounds of volcanic rock, a volcano having erupted. This is artistic license as Don Rosa admits there aren’t any known volcano’s in Mexico, but that they also still haven’t found that missing town, so this was his explanation.  All is not lost as Donald’s globetrotting with Scrooge meant he knows his history.. and thus spots an old mission which, at the time, were used by preists as cover for secret mines. Donald naturally bungles his way in and we get the much better running gag of the Cabs thinking Donald did something amazing when he really just wondered into slapstick. They end up down the shaft, with Jose deciding Donald can’t do all the work, and finding a secret entrance under a sanctum sanctorum.. a religious thing I have no idea what it ii s but is clearly where Dr. Strange got the name. Regardless they find some old kegs filled with pure silver. As Panchito puts it: 

And he did ideed. In a nice moment that shows off his character, Panchito has no hesitation for sharing the wealth: He wouldn’t of got this far without his friends, and he wont get the Silver cashed in without their help. He also fires off his guns in celebration.. forgetting their in a cave, a gag I genuinely like. 

After some off screen loading and hoisting, the boys are slowly on their way out of the canyon, with Donald’s Car and Senor Martinez pulling the cart with the silver together. With some downtime the three talk about what they’ll spend the money on. 

About what you’d expect. A big beautiful music venue

For Jose, and a nice ranch to retire at for Panchito. Both despite being wondering souls would love a simple place to call home, in their own personal styles. While they are BIG goals, their also likeable and understandable ones: Jose just wants to stop having to do all these tours and carouse and party and perform at home. Be his own boss, and live his own dreams instead of working for whoever will put up for him. Panchito just wants to retire from being a wondering hero to a peaceful life of farming, an honest reward he well earned. And Donald? 

This is easily one of my faviorite moment’s of Rosa’s, one that really cuts to comic donald’s character: Sure he can be lazy, a trickster, hot tempered, and overconfident.. it’s why we love him.. but at the end of the day he genuinely loves those boys and their his first prority and I can see why the reboot took that trait and made it his defining one. They may annoy and frustrate them and he may pull a switch on them, 50′s after all.. but he loves his boys and knows they’ll do great one day and despite his spendthrift ways when given big money.. their all he can think about. Sure Donald probably has his own personal dreams, but instead of going big and retiring he’d probably just take only a small sliver of that money to open a humble hot dog stand or something, so he could have something of his own to provide them, while still giving most of the money to their college. Scrooge is who we all want to be.. Donald is who we are at our core: Flawed people who just want to do our best. It’s why I love the guy so much.  The boys rest in the small town of El Divisadero, which like the town we started in is a real place, though both are much smaller, even as of 2000 when Rosa made his visit, so he had to embelish slightly. THey stop at a local watering hole only to find Alphonso. While Jose is naturally worried, Gold Hat has moved on to Panchito and wants to know why he’s here. However Donald thinking quickly says he’s part of their nightclub act, and we get a rousing version of the three cablleros, which when reading this I synched up to the song. I won’t put it here, as it’s too big for tumblr and it really works more as a whole, but needless to say, it’s the highlight of the comic. While Rosa did have doubts about putting a musical number in a comic, and it’s often trickey, he makes it work with the energy, vibrance and number of gags, that compensate for the music not being there. There’s tons of great gags, from Donald getting thrown out  window, to the stone faced crowd who only cheers when Alphonso ends the number by whacking the three with one of their own guitars.  Alphonso quickly realizes what’s goin on, finds the silver, and then hyjacks the train. The boys take off after him in the car, as Donald triumphantly states “The Three Cablleros Ride Again!”. The three head after Alphonzo, who finds them when trying to release the other cars to increase speed, and then shoots at them. It seems hopeless... until donald gets launched into the air, into a cactus then back into Alphonzo knocking his guns out in a great bit of slapstick. The Conductor, likely not knowing about the others or not carring, detaches the cars though, so our heroes and villian are now sent rocketing through the world’s most dangerous railway. Which, as you’d probably already figured out, is very real and what inspirited rosa to use this setting and thus indeed wind through dangerous mountainsides and over thin cliffs like a real life Donkey Kong Country level.  Eduardo still has his machete though and easily beats Jose’s umbrella, but some more Donald slapstick and him apologizing to daisy about the senioritis as he wishes her goodbye seriously GET SOME COUPLE’S COUNSELING IF THAT EXISTS IN THE 50′S. It puls his sombrero down over his head, and with jose’s umbrella top landing on it, carries him off where he ends up in a lazy asshole sheirff’s jail for a gag. The boys however continue going back.. and the railway is unfinished at this time in history and while they save the silver, their fucked. But Donald has a plan, running to the back of the cars to get his car, and while it has trouble starting, Panchito throws some chilie’s in the tank to get it moving again.  The boys find the silver.. but when one barrel spills they find out it’s not actual liquid silver.. but quicksilver, which was used for silver refinment. So while i’ts shiny, and toxic so of course Jose sticks his hand in before knowing what it is, it’s worthless. Probably. The boys.. all have a nice laugh over it. I love this moment. Sure the boys lost their dreams.. but like Scrooge, the three belivie theirs always another rainbow. What matters is the journey they had and the reunion that restored their friendship. Donald also muses the boys are smart enough to get their own scholarships anyway, so it’s no big loss.. but he does have to get back to Disvadero as the jamboree ends tonight and Jose agrees as he now needs a job again. The owner balks, understandably since Jose missed a performance to get laid and then disappeared overnight.. but the Hotel Owner is visiting so as long as he can provide a big act he’s good, and while Jose is worried as he already gave them his best, the boys naturally pitch in to be the cablleros once more. After all

So we close on Huey, Dewey and Louie returning, still worrying about donald, when they find him on stage. We then end on a truly heartwarming and great last few panels. 

Final Thoughts: What else can I say? This story is beautifully drawn, as usual for Rosa, well paced, fun and really fleshes the Cabs out from the movie. It has a warm, fun adventurous tone and it’s nice to see Donald in the lead since Rosa usually did Scrooge stories and thus Donald was the justifiably surly sidekick instead of the main man> here he’s in the spotlight and gets to show just what he’s made of, while still being the hilarious mess we all know and love. The story honors the original film well, while forging it’s own path and is beautifully built into history. My only real complaints are the nephews being annoying, Alphonso’s somewhat overwrought accent, and of course the daisy gags.. but it’s all HEAVILY outweighed by one of Rosa’s finest hours and easy enough to ignore. Check this out if you can. It’s a classic for a reason. 

If you liked this review, you can commission your own by messaging me on here or at my discord technicolormuk#655 for five dollars a comic story or animation episode. Whenever the ride resumes next, we’ll coming on down to the house of mouse to see the boys return to the screen. In the meantime keep an eye on this space for regular Ducktales reviews every Monday, including once this run ends as I intend to start playing catchup, loud house reviews whenever, my tom retrospective that’s returning soon, and my retrospective on the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, with chapter 2 of that also coming soon. Until then, there’s always another rainbow. 

[twokinkybeans]

Fic prompt: Tony gets turned on when peter wears his clothes which is a problem when peter shows up to a avengers meeting in Tony’s mit hoodie ;)

I took a tiiiiiiny bit of liberty with this prompt, but I hope you like it! Also, I somehow can’t keep these prompts short so y’all get to enjoy a whopping 1673 words whoops <3 -Lien Warnings: Adult Peter Parker, mutual pining, voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, masturbation, mentions of sex and cock sucking ... The first time Tony saw Peter in his clothes was when the young man had spilled motor oil all over his nerdy pun T-shirt. Tony had led him to his bedroom. He opened the door to his walk in closet and browsed around, though when it hit him that whatever he picked out was exactly what Peter would be putting on his body, the room turned a little warmer than it was before. He licked his dry lips as his hand glided over the many shirts on their hangers. Did Tony mean to pick one of his most expensive pieces of casual wear? No. But he did. And damn, it looked good on Peter. Maybe next time Tony wouldn’t turn away as Peter delicately slid the fabric over his toned chest. If there even will be a next time… There was a next time. Many of them, even. And Tony didn’t mind it one single bit. He was fairly certain Peter was ruining his own clothes on purpose, just so he could wear Tony’s wardrobe again. At one point Tony started letting Peter into his closet and had him pick something himself. It didn’t matter how many times Peter left the tower with Tony’s fabrics caressing his skin, Tony always had to rub one out afterwards. He wanted to be the one touching Peter, not his stupid priceless clothes. He was aware he’d never have Peter. Not in the way he wanted to have the younger man. The age difference was too big. It didn’t matter how many stares Peter stole at him. How often Tony caught him cupping his hard on through his ripped jeans, swallowing up the compliments Tony gave him. It was nothing. He was just a twink with a praise kink. He didn’t actually want Tony. He couldn’t want Tony. He- “Mister Stark?” Peter called out from the other side of the lab, breaking Tony away from his train of thought and his already growing hard-on. Damnit. “I’m a little cold, is it okay if I grab something from upstairs?” “Sure, kid,” Tony turned a circle in his desk chair and stood up, waving his hand. “You know the way to the closet. I’m gonna go ahead and set up the meeting downstairs.” The plan was to quickly get off in the toilet before actually heading to the meeting room, but unfortunately for Tony, he ran into Steve on the way down, who wanted to discuss everything beforehand. The Captain wouldn’t allow Tony any time by himself in the bathroom and kept talking to him, ensuring Tony’s erection fell flaccid.  Splendid. Twenty minutes into the meeting, Tony wondered where the heck Peter was. He knew the young man was in the building; they were literally tinkering on the Iron Man suit barely an hour ago. None of the other Avengers questioned it, Peter was usually late. Never this late, though. Tony tapped his glasses twice, guiding the AI to show Peter’s location with his eyes. Tony nearly spit out his drink at what he saw next. Peter. On Tony’s bed. Wearing nothing but Tony’s old MIT hoodie. The faded colour of the fabric contrasted perfectly with Peter’s pale skin. With one hand he clutched the hoodie around his chest and with the other he was pumping his shaft at a rapid pace. Tony tightened his jaw at the sight only he could see right in front of him. None of the Avengers were any wiser. Tony should’ve looked away, turned off the footage, he knew he should’ve. But he couldn’t. Part of him wanted to stand up and rush to his room to rail Peter. But he was still young. Peter probably just had to quickly get off and got lost in the pleasure. He’s not doing this for Tony. “Tony-“ The lack of audio might still convince Tony that whatever word he just read on Peter’s lips wasn’t his name. But there was no denying it. Especially not with E.D.I.T.H. captioning Peter’s moans and whispers. It hit him like a brick. Peter did want him. And fuck, Tony wanted Peter. More than anything. “E.D.I.T.H.?” Tony asked out of the blue, interrupting Rhodey, who had just started giving his part of the presentation. “Could you ask Peter whether or not he’s going to come?” “Yes, boss,” E.D.I.T.H.’s voice echoed through the meeting room. Rhodey cocked an annoyed eyebrow, but he’s used to Tony’s mind doing four, if not fifty, things at once. So he shook his head and continued. Tony wasn’t paying him any mind, though. He was looking straight ahead at the live footage in front of him. Peter’s eyes opened wide at the question. A breathless “Yes” fell from his lips as he came. He caught himself just in time, angling his cock toward the tiled floor to prevent spilling on Tony’s sheets. Or the MIT hoodie. Tony’s tongue pushed into the inside of his cheek and he took a slow breath in. He then made the resolute decision to make Peter stain that hoodie. He simply had to. Tony swore under his breath when Peter had the audacity to walk into the meeting still wearing the hoodie. It certainly had Rhodey, whom Tony was roommates with at MIT, double take. “Hey, kid,” Tony greeted casually. “Nice hoodie.” Peter’s entire face turned red when the entire room turned their heads to have a look at the hoodie Tony mentioned. It was common knowledge to everyone in the tower that Peter’s clumsiness resulted in him wearing Tony’s clothes, so no one was surprised by that fact. However, Tony had heard the whispers in the hallway. How good Peter’s ass looked in Tony’s pantalons. How much more well defined his abs showed through Tony’s shirts… Everyone loved it when Peter wore Stark’s wardrobe. As did Tony. Obviously. It was only natural everyone wanted to see what Peter was wearing this time. In the meantime, Tony turned in his chair slightly and crossed his legs to conceal his crotch. “I should’ve picked something else, shouldn’t I?” Peter scratched the back of his head apologetically and quickly moved to sit down into the last free chair. Right next to Tony. “Nah, I haven’t worn that old thing in ages. It looks good on you.” Tony paired the compliment with a wink and Peter visibly contained a shudder. A wide grin appeared on Tony’s face and Natasha erupted into laughter. “Is that your way of telling Peter he picked the wrong college?” “Oh, come on,” Tony leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. “We all know MIT reigns supreme.” “Hey, don’t come at me, I wanted to stay in New York.” “Y’know, that’s fair. I wouldn’t want to leave me either.” “Bu-“ “Or your auntie.” “Can we get back to the numbers?” Rhodey sighed audibly and gestured at the holograms in front of them on the table. “Of course.” Tony leaned back again and folded his hands together, unable to take the shit-eating off his face. Peter went quiet, but Tony didn’t feel like easing up to him just yet. He was too hard, too horny, to hide his flirtatious behaviour. He couldn’t help it Peter looked like a whole meal in that hoodie. Tony wanted to turn Peter into a desperate mess below him, wearing nothing but the hoodie, just like he did earlier when touching himself. He wanted the young man to rut himself against Tony’s thigh, maybe make him suck Tony’s cock. God, the kid would look so lovely on his knees, staring up into Tony’s eyes, whining for his Daddy to fuck his mouth. And Tony would. Oh, he would. Tony’s hand slowly slid over the back of Peter’s chair, upwards to the young man’s neck. He didn’t even bother looking to the side, he could literally feel the hairs on Peter’s skin standing upright at the attention. Tony gently pressed his index and middle fingers on Peter’s skin, right where the neck hole started and Peter sucked in a breath. When he quickly turned his head to find answers for Tony’s touchiness, Tony leaned in, one corner of his mouth curled up, not looking away from Rhodey. Meanwhile, he slowly pressed his fingers down over Peter’s skin until they disappeared under the hoodie’s fabric for a second, before pulling his hand back again. “Tag.” Tony could see the look of disbelief on Peter’s face. And it was absolutely priceless. There was no tag in that hoodie. Tony ripped it out the second he got it. Peter bit his lip and released the air that had been stuck in his lungs. Tony noticed him glancing down at Tony’s crotch and the man, bold as he is, decided to manspread in his chair to show Peter what exactly he was doing to Tony. His tight pants left nothing to the imagination. Peter looked up again and made eye contact. Whatever was happening in that room, whatever Rhodey was talking about, it didn’t matter anymore. Peter cocked his head a little and took a breath, finding the courage to speak. “Thanks,” he whispered back. Peter’s words immediately shot through Tony’s entire being and when Peter made himself smaller, bringing up his arms to hide his upper body behind them, Tony had to hold himself back. If he truly had no shame he would’ve thrown himself on top of Peter right that moment. Bend the college student over the hologram table and thrust his cock against Peter’s prostate over and over to make him wail in front of everybody. Peter ignited something in Tony that he hadn’t felt since, well, his MIT days. And here Peter was, looking utterly and absolutely innocent in his hoodie. He wanted nothing more than to taint that innocence. Bring back the man Tony had seen on his bed only moments before. And so, when the meeting ended, Tony guided Peter back to his bedroom and pushed him into the walk in closet to give him what both of them had been dreaming about.