#i think another reason for that logic besides being pretty fucking dumb

[shesahershey]

When I was younger, I thought board games were called that because they were games you played when you were BORED. Not because you play them. On a BOARD.

#hersh talks #i dont remember when i realized thats not why theyre called that #but it was embarrassing late in my life. #i think another reason for that logic besides being pretty fucking dumb #is bc some people in my life called jenga a board game??? you dont play that on a board like wtf #i think ive also heard people refer to go fish as a board game????? #and i always played those games when there wasnt anything else to do

[agirlneedsgoals]

State of the Me

I'mma put all this here because reasons but I'm also gonna hide it behind a cut because nobody unsuspecting should be exposed to my (legitimate) whining.

Hi, Tumblr. Still stuck in sad panda, still not "back" here, yet. Any reblogs I do are generally because someone linked me to the post. I'm not ignoring anybody, I just can't deal with my notifications so I'm just...not.

I'm not checking email, either, and I've got a slowly growing ball of panic in me somewhere. It's been 2 months...maybe more. I'm such a fuckup.

I fucked my back again. Months of work to get where I was experiencing almost no pain from the nerve damage, unraveled by 3 nights on a decently comfortable couch. That's not fair. I got home from that trip and could barely walk into the house; my mom had to help me. I'm still having trouble walking and it's been almost 2 weeks.

I had to use my Oma's walker to go to my dr's appt (it's too short for me, btw, but it did help me not fall over and become a floor troll). They made me come in because a) they wanted to check my A1C because I'm on a new drug and b) they've never prescribed me pain meds before and don't have any history dealing with my stupid back. When I fucked it in March, I went to urgent care.

Then it turned out they were out of the A1C tests so I am going to have to go to a lab anyway (hah, don't hold your breath, his, it'll be a while until I'm better). Also, it turned out the muscle relaxant the UC had prescribed for my back last time shouldn't be used on heart patients because it will even relax that muscle. 😖 I'd love to blame the UC entirely but I requested it. There was this whole snafu with my dumb insurance and what they would and wouldn't pay for. It ended up with a ton of back and forth between the UC night Dr, my pharmacy, and my insurance. I finally tracked down a 2022 table of what they will pay for and researched the muscle relaxants. I THOUGHT this one was good but I apparently missed the part about it slowing my heart down (I'm already on meds for that, it doesn't need to beat any slower).

He prescribed me something different. CVS was out of it for two days and then mom didn't get to town for another two. 😂 No, no, I'm fine, please go about your business. (I'm being a bitch, it was valid and I said it was okay, I'm just hurting today so.)

Mom and I tangled that day I went to the Dr. She gets impatient and is highly conscious of certain social cues. I explained (I learned this stuff when I was caretaking for my great aunt and Oma) to her afterwards during lunch that sometimes you have to park illegally, make sure the person you're helping gets inside, then park the car. This was after she stopped in front of the building, told me to get out, then tried to rush me when I made a grumpy sound. She finally got out and came around to help but she did it saying, "Yeah, I'll park over there but first you have GET OUT."

I'm pretty even keeled since I've found an okay mix of meds. So when I told her to shut the fuck up, I think it startled her. Oops. She turned around, got back in the car, and just left me there. The door wasn't automatic, either. Man, walkers suck. If you see somebody using a walker, open the fucking door and be patient. Jeez.

Later, I apologized, she apologized. There were hearts and sparkles, whatever. I'm still annoyed that this wasn't just common sense.

Also, I ruined Thanksgiving because I couldn't walk so we had to stay home and cancel our dinner reservations. Mom made dinner from what we had in store. Never had turkey burgers on Thanksgiving before but it was great. 😊

In other news, it's not that I feel lonely but I feel like separations are spreading between me and certain friends. Some of it is logical and valid and started years ago. Not so worried about that anymore, I've kind of accepted it. But some other friends, I feel like it's growing and I can't figure out if it's real (and if so, why, what did I do?) or if I need my meds changed.

Besides the whole anger thing, my main symptom of depression is believing totally and wholeheartedly that nobody likes me and everyone just pretends. I know it makes no sense. That's actually how I figured out that it was all in my head; why would people who don't like me be so nice or give me gifts or take time out to do things for me? The answer is, they wouldn't. Therefore, they liked me and I was not thinking properly. (It's called a persecutory delusion and mine is very light compared to most. Still, my decision to accept people at face value for liking me was a conscious one and I didn't really believe it until we found the right mix of meds.)

Hey, it's not so bad. We have this particular type of chemical imbalance run through our family on my Oma's side. My aunt thought not only was everyone disliking her but they were also out to get her fired at work and actively sabotaging her in life (that last one was focused mostly on my mother, her sister 😬). I mean, it's possible, she wasn't the easiest person to like, but at EVERY job she had? Probably not.

Anyway, let's talk about something good.

I have no money because I am broken and can't work right now so I depend on my mom and the kindness of strangers friends and family. Awkward. But I was raised as a little spoiled princess so I have no shame in asking my mommy for stuff. She got me the cat ear headphones I've wanted forever the other day. They were just delivered but I can't get to them so I have to wait until she's back from town.

I also got the knitting backpack I've wanted but that one came out of my Christmas bankroll early. Perfect! 💕 Not that I've been doing any kind of creative thing or yarn work lately but, anyway.

The Christmas tree is up. It's not decorated but it's up! I can't do anything so mom is supposed to trim it then I'll come out and tell her what she did wrong. 😂 Her words, not mine. We need something over the fireplace. I was gonna make a wreath...

My cousin made a wreath! She sent me pics. It's awesome and beautiful looks like a candy cane dream and I wanna do it. I was supposed to do it while she did hers. I hate being like this. No, were being happy here.

I'm obsessed with "golden hour" by JVKE. It pets something in my brain and makes it calm. I also am really liking "this is what falling in love feels like".

I watched the video for "golden hour," saw how tiny the piano looks next to him, and was like, "How tf tall is this boy?" The Internet tells me he's either 5'8 or 6'7. 🤔 But judging by other videos, he's definitely a giant. I mean, unless he hangs out in dollhouses a lot? That's an option, I guess.

Anyway, here's Wonder Wall golden hour. (Does anybody else feel like this is what the vampires of Twilight should have looked like?)

Oh, I just I found this! (Sorry, I'm on mobile.)

#state of the me #babbles #no one cares leslie #boring post is boring #but also there's a music video and it's good so there's that #mine #depression

[myherowritings]

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was. 

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location. 

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.” 

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.” 

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

 “Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead. 

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower. 

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too? 

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice. 

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?” 

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion. 

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--” 

“Y/N!” 

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice. 

There was no way. 

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up. 

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring. 

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!” 

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi. 

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” 

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?” 

“None of your damn business.” 

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?” 

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him. 

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone. 

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.” 

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.” 

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.” 

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement. 

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him. 

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster. 

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question. 

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.” 

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white. 

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing. 

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t. 

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes. 

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!” 

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?” 

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” 

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.” 

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.” 

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.” 

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused. 

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.” 

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed. 

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love. 

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end. 

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face. 

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night. 

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”  

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends. 

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.” 

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.” 

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.” 

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to. 

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well. 

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter. 

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close. 

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face. 

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side. 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard. 

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?” 

You flushed. “Oh, hush.” 

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car. 

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.” 

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.” 

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street. 

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze. 

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you. 

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you. 

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart. 

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay. 

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.” 

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen. 

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.” 

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.” 

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own. 

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right. 

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks. 

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.” 

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.” 

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider. 

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning? 

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?” 

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you. 

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.” 

“No worries.” 

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty. 

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little. 

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about. 

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!” 

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden? 

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop. 

He accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers. 

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?” 

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!” 

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.” 

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat. 

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching. 

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.” 

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes. 

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!” 

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.” 

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.” 

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.” 

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.” 

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t. 

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme. 

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?” 

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.” 

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.” 

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.” 

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it. 

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.” 

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you. 

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.” 

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.” 

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--” 

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his. 

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.” 

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced. 

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.” 

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say. 

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.” 

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.” 

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted. 

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.” 

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down? 

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.” 

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly. 

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.” 

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.” 

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.” 

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close. 

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.” 

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued. 

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips. 

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.” 

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.” 

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter. 

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.” 

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?” 

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched. 

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully. 

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face. 

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you. 

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.” 

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?” 

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?” 

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.” 

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him. 

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted. 

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night. 

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response. 

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged. 

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss. 

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.” 

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled. 

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.” 

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse. 

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him. 

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face. 

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!” 

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.” 

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door. 

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door. 

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles. 

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved. 

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!” 

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?” 

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment. 

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful. 

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.” 

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?” 

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.” 

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight. 

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.” 

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did. 

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon. 

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept. 

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you. 

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop. 

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face. 

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park. 

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again. 

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together. 

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx 

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi x reader #shinsou imagines #bnha shinso #shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou x y/n #bnha social media au #bnha smau #bnha fake texts #mha social media au #mha smau #mha fake texts #turn on your airdrop

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝖒𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊

_______________________

ɴᴏᴍᴀᴅ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴀᴜ ɪsʜ)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After the events of Thanos (pretending no one needed to die and he doesn’t leave everyone for some dry coochie) , you and Steve have had this nightly thing going on and you’ve had enough being second choice. Being nothing but something to warm his bed just to leave in the morning.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: little bit of angst (so bad at writing angst), age gap (not specifically mention but implied), smut 18+ (rough sex, degradtion but also praise lol, unprotected sex, slight hair pulling, mirror sex, choking, oral fem receiving, i think that’s it idk)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟻.𝟸ᴋ (ɪᴅᴋ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀss ᴘᴏsᴛs, ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʟᴍᴀᴏ)

________________________

“Well, I see you tomorrow,” Steve said, gathering his clothes yet again bolting out the door.

You didn’t say anything in return, just laid facing your back away from Steve as he left you just like he always does. You knew what you were getting yourself into when Steve first asked you do have sex with him. No strings attached just mindless fucking, getting laid for shits and giggles. 

At first it was fine, not exactly what you wanted but you loved Steve and you were willingly to take what you could. You and Steve had a pretty close relationship beforehand and became even closer after the initial offer. But then after a while, he started to become a bit more distant. Only talking to you when he needed to and leaving your side before the sun even came up. 

You thought it was something you’d done but he assured you nothing was wrong. But now every time you he sneaks out of you room to pretend like you didn’t just fuck each other into oblivion, you felt dirty and gross. But you let him back every night pretending to be ok with this, like you didn’t wish he would kiss you and tell you you’re beautiful.

Steve opened your door ready to leave telling himself, Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Of course though he looked back and watched your naked form tug the sheets bringing them up to chin curling in on yourself. He wanted to stay but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to you. 

You were still young and he had so much history and baggage. Part of the reason he even considered going back to 1945. He wanted to curl up behind you and whisper in your ear that things were going to be okay. He wanted to hold you and keep you warm, especially with winter coming to New York rapidly. 

Because as he said he couldn’t do that to you, you didn’t deserve it. This nightly thing was ruining yo and it was his fault. Steve decided then he had to end this; for his sake and yours.

+++

“Hey kid, you ok?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” you retorted, trying your very to suppress all memories of the last night. Steve was standing across her with cup of coffee in his hand keeping his eyes from looking into yours.

“I heard you crying last night when I passed your room,” she said softly, running her arm against yours in comfort. Natasha was like the mother you wish you had. You pretty much told her everything.

“Why were you up so late?”

“I was watching a movie.”

“Oh. Can we talk later?’” you asked her.

“Of course.”

Steve knew exactly what was wrong. What you two were doing wasn’t good for you guys anymore; but you couldn’t stop. You ate breakfast and rushed back to your room. Nat came in a few mins later closing and locking your door so you could talk with no intrusions. 

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked sitting on your bed. 

“I need to tell you a secret,” you whispered.

“Ok,” she leaned in smiling.

“Me and Steve,” you paused, “we’ve been having sex.”

There was a long pause but it wasn’t Nat to register what you. Of course she fucking knew. Her room was directly next to yours.

“You’re not saying anything. Why aren’t you saying anything?” you panicked.

“Hon, our rooms are next to each other. There’s a reason I stay up late watching movies.” 

“Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize we were being a bother! Please don’t tell anyone,” you panicked even more.

“I’m not and haven’t said a word.”

“Ok, because if anyone finds out Steve is gonna be really mad.”

“Hey no one’s gonna know,” she assured you.

When she asked how all this came to play you told her everything. She had a suspicion that you had feelings for Steve and when she heard two going at it like rabbits she merely thought you wanted to keep the relationship secret. To say she became livid at Steve for taking advantage of you was a completely understatement. She wanted to kill him. 

You asked her if she would let sleep in her room tonight so she could avoid Steve at least for one day. After she said yes, you asked if she wanted to play video games but she said she’d watch you. You gamed for a while and started to get really hungry after a few hours. You ended up getting pizza delivered. Bucky and Sam grabbed the pizzas from the guy at the front and bolted to your room.

“Did you guys order pizza?”

“Yeah, you want some?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shouted and waited for Nat to unlock your door. 

Same came inside as Bucky ran to the kitchen to grab some beers and sodas for you guys. When he returned you guys kept playing video games switching off whose turn it was to give shot at the game. You ended up nearly finishing the pizzas and left empty beer bottles and soda cans all over the table. All of you guys laughing hysterical, watching Sam do attempt after attempt of the section in the game. He kept dying in the same spot over and over and over again you all couldn't help but make jokes making you all nearly pee from laughing.

Steve had just finished a session of training alone. He usually works out with Buck but today he was nowhere in sight. Neither was Sam. He knew that Nat was in your room and evidently avoided coming into contact with you, but he thought Bucky and Sam went out to the bar or something. An invite would’ve been nice. Something to distract from thinking about you.

Although he didn’t want to, he figured he should go to Nat and see if maybe she knew where the boys were. He was giving Nat’s room a try before going to yours but when he arrived on the floor that yours and Nat’s rooms were, he heard loud laughter emitting from your room.

He instantly knew everyone resided there.

“What’s going on?” He pushed the door slightly.

You all got very quiet suddenly, especially you. You stood up and excused yourself to the bathroom, not even wanting to look at him right now. 

“We’re just playing some video games. Y/n and Nat ordered pizza and when we brought them the boxes, we ended up just staying. Where were you?” Bucky responded then asked.

“I was downstairs training.”

“Awe man! I didn’t realize how late it was getting sorry I missed it bud. I’ll be there tomorrow, for sure.”

“It’s ok. Hope you're all having fun,” Steve said before he left and closed the door.

“Y/n, he’s gone babe,” Nat came up to the door to tell you.

“What happened?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing,” she retorted.

“Ok well it’s pretty late we should get some sleep,” Bucky announced.

The boys left and when they did you quickly grabbed some clothes and your toothbrush and ran next door alongside Nat to get ready to go to bed.

+++

It had been around 3 in the morning and Steve still couldn’t seem to get even an ounce of sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how he wanted to go to you and fuck until he was tired out but he didn’t want to use you anymore. He swore he wouldn’t. 

After another hour of painful silence, Steve through logic out the window and headed to your room. Maybe if he just laid beside you knowing you were just there, that could make him feel better.

When Steve knocked on your door, you didn’t answer. He opened it to see if maybe you were asleep; but he really couldn’t tell. So he stepped as quietly as possible towards your bed and moved the blankets. When he was met with cold sheets and full pillows he realized you hadn’t been here all night.

“She’s sleeping.”

Steve jerked his head to find Natasha leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He’d realized there was no getting out of this situation and slumped on your bed head falling into his hands. He ran his hands through hair wishing desperately they were yours but you had run away from him.

“Why are you doing this to her?” Nat asked softly, she wasn’t exactly as mad anymore now having seen that there is something more that neither of you are admitting to each other; but she was still pretty pissed. 

“I can’t sleep,” was his response.

“So waking her up to use her as a toy was the solution?”

“It’s not like that,” Steve nearly shouted.

“You need to stop using her. Tell her the truth or leave her alone.”

“What truth?” Steve asked.

“Steve, don’t play dumb. There’s something deeper than just mindless fucking and you know it. Unfortunately she doesn’t and if you don’t tell soon it’s gonna break her. She’s too young for this bullshit, Steve.”

“I can’t do that to her. You know how fucked up my life has been and dragging her into that? I can’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it.” 

“So fucking her at night only to leave in the morning and pretend like nothing ever happened between you guys is the better option? Really, Steve? I thought you were smarter than that.”

There was a long pause as Steve realize he fuck himself over from the start. 

“Fix this,” Nat said before going back to her room to sleep for the rest of the night.

+++

For the next few days you had slept in Nat’s room. Normally you would find yourself cuddled close to her but never completely squishing her like did this particular morning.

“Oh well good morning sunshine,” she laughed putting her phone to pull you closer. It almost made your stomach flutter because you wish you had someone to wake up to like this everyday; preferably with Steve though.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you in bed.”

“Oh it’s fine. I quite liked the cuddling,” she retorted as you got off of her.

“If only Steve did too,” you said to yourself aloud.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Nat shouted that it was okay for them to enter; it was Tony.

“Hey Nat, so I was able to get a babysitter for Morgan for tonight; I don’t think I told you but, Lang’s kid-” he stopped when he noticed you were in the room too, totally unexpected.

“Oh uh,” Nat looked at you not so discreetly, “We should talk about this later.

“Ok,” Tony bolted out the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let’s get ready for breakfast, I think Tony is gonna order a special breakfast or something to get delivered.”

“Oh that’s nice.” you wondered if it had anything to do with what you hoped it would but you seemed to be proven wrong when no one seemed to say anything.

After one of the bed breakfasts you’ve ever had, Bucky, Sam, and Nat went back to your room to play more video games like the other night. You and Nat stayed on the bed while the boys were on the floor intensely slashing around in time with the game’s combat.

There was a quiet knock at your door in contrast to the volume of the television but your trained ears could hear it. You walked to the door telling the boys to quiet down before you actually opened the door. On the other side was actually someone you didn’t expect.

“Steve, what’s up? You need someone?”

“Actually, maybe I could hang with you guys? I brought food,” he smiled shyly.

“Oh my goodness, of course,” you let him.  

“Hey guys I’ve got lunch,” he announced, walking to the table off to the side of your room; since the boys moved it to roll around on the floor. You however waited by the closed door. You wished Steve would come to you when you were alone and not to hang out with his friends that you kept captive; and not for just sex of course either. 

“Yay!” everyone shouted.

“Y/n you should eat too,” Nat said, bringing you food from the bag.

“I’m not too hungry right now,” you responded.

“You might not have time later to fuel yourself. You’re gonna want to.”

Ok what is going on? You ask yourself. You still took the food she gave you though. That question would soon be answered thankfully.

Hours later and Tony barged in frantically.

“Let’s go you bums! Lang’s kid just came over!”

“Why didn’t you say anything!?” Nat shouted and kicked everyone out. 

“What's going on? You guys have been weird all day.”

“Did you really think we’d forget your birthday, babe?” Nat said to you.

“What?” your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, we got you a nice breakfast, Steve brought you lunch, and Tony and I are taking everyone out to the club to celebrate your birthday!” Nat said hugging you.

“Oh my goodness, why didn’t anyone say anything? I wasn't mad but literally not one person, not even you, said anything,” tears brimmed your eyes.

“I know I’m sorry but hey now we get to spend all night partying for you and only you. Tony has all your birthday gifts at the club already, we got a VIP booth,” she winked at you. 

She ran to her room extremely quick and returned with a dress bag. She pulled out a short ivory satin slip dress that complimented your soft skin beautifully. It was backless as well and also had a small slit that was very high up. Looking at it made you kinda nervous. No way you were gonna wear that.

Wanda came in right after wearing an all black long sleeved off the shoulder dress that made her look so beautiful. She hugged you and wished a happy birthday before turning to the bathroom to grab you some makeup. While Wanda did your makeup giving you a very natural look to enhance the beauty you already bestowed, Nat changed into a strapless black dress as well that had a deep vee neck.

She took out a box and gave it to you along with the white dress and told you to change. 

“I’m not wearing this. Where’s the rest of it?” the girls laughed loudly.

“It's actually not that revealing, so don't worry about that. Also we’re practically gonna be in the dark.”

“What’s in the box?”

“You’ll see,” Wanda winked. 

“If you can’t figure it out though, we’ll help you,” Nat confirmed.

You went into the bathroom after grabbing some appropriate panties for this table cloth of a dress opting for nude lace panties wanting to feel extra sexy for your big night. After you put the dress, you admired yourself for a bit admiring the way you looked before opening the box. When you did you didn’t quite know what it was at first but after picking it up you realized it was a diamond body chain for your thigh. You figured for the thigh exposed from the slit in the slip dress. 

You came out almost ready to leave and the girls whistled and howled hyping you up. You picked up the pair of strappy heels set on your bed, being decorated as well with diamonds. You put them on and the diamonds wrapped around the ankle shining just like the body chain you had on your thigh.  You put on a pair of earrings and you were officially ready to party for the night.

You walked downstairs with the girls and the boys nearly fell over after looking at how beautiful you three were. Pepper was already dressed and downstairs dressed much more modestly but just as stunning. The boys were dressed formally but not black tie formal, just perfect for a night out. 

Steve more specifically was absolutely captivated by the way you looked. You always held yourself with elegance that made him blush, but this? How was gonna keep any sort self control when you look so fucking perfect. You smiled at Steve and everyone moved to the front where the limo that Tony rented was waiting. 

Steve held your hand and helped you inside almost immediately cutting Bucky off so that he could sit next to you on the way to the city. Once everyone was inside you were on your way to the club.

“You look beautiful,” Steve whispered to you. You damn near shit yourself, you were so in love with him.

“Thank you, Steve.”

When you got to the club you all got settled in the VIP booth, where all your gifts from everyone were. One by one you opened them as drinks came in, ordered by Tony and Pepper. You thanked everyone with a hug and off they were to dance. You cleaned up a bit while Steve too stayed behind. 

“You didn’t open my gift,” he said smirking.

“I didn’t?” you questioned.

“Well you didn’t exactly have access to it,” he pulled a box from his pocket. When you opened it was a gorgeous gold necklace with your birthstone just big enough at the center. You looked back at Steve and thanked him over and over again.

“Do you want me to put it on?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.”

He grabbed the necklace and you turned around grabbing and moving your hair for Steve to clip the necklace. When he had done so, he quickly but gently kissed the back of your neck, his face shortly lingering, seeing the chills and shiver your body had done. 

You felt your body grow cold and were about to say something when Nat had come interrupting your moment.

“Y/n, let’s go dance! Come on!” she dragged you away.

“What was that I saw,” she asked you when you were on the dance floor.

“Honestly I don’t know.”

After a couple hours of dancing you had gone to the bar to get some water and maybe a drink. When you got the you had met up with Bucky who was preoccupied with a girl he met tonight. 

“Hey, doll,” he said when he noticed your presence; completely ignoring the girl after.

“Hey, Buck.”

“How’s your night going?” he got closer so you could hear him over the incredibly loud music.

“I'm doing amazing but I'm a little tired already, thought I’d get some water.”

“That’s good. Stay hydrated, princess.” Bucky has been like a brother to you since you came to the tower. Him and Nat have always been your go-to’s and it’s nice to feel like you have family to care for you. That’s kinda what you are. 

You continued to carry nice conversation as you both drank at the bar. You decided since your feet were beginning to ache to sit on a bar stool but Bucky deciding against it. He stood nearly in between your legs, not in a sexual manner but just to be close to you because the music was so fucking loud and you two could hardly hear each other. 

But that didn’t translate well to Steve who stood at the end of the bar with Bruce and Thor; who ended up bringing Asgardian mead for him, Steve, and Bucky. Truth be told, he didn’t like the way Bucky was standing so close to you but he couldn’t blame him. You looked ravishing and Steve never told his best friend about your nightly encounters and definitely not how much he really cared for you romantically.

You noticed a pair of eyes piercing through you and when you turned you looked into Steve’s eyes. He looked betrayed and confused. Why would he feel like that anyway; you weren’t his. Especially since he’s the one who seems to show no interest in you beyond a nightly affair.

You figured you messed with him only to see if he would say anything, maybe that could push him to finally realize your his; you’ve always been his. Bucky continued to conversate with you at the bar and you opened your legs just a bit to bring him closer. To Bucky you seemed like you couldn’t hear him. But to Steve, you were flirting.

You reached out to Bucky and pulled him closer laughing at something he said, and Steve saw red. He bolted to the bar where you and Bucky were and snatched you away. 

“Hey, man. What the fuck is going on?” Bucky shouted to Steve.

“Stay out of this, asshole,” Steve practically growled back.

“The fuck, you good man? Don’t be grabbing her like that, dickhead.”

“I said stay out!” Steve let go and shoved Bucky away.

“Steve!” you shouted. You had zero clue why he was acting like this.

Nat came over and helped Bucky while Sam stepped into between the two. 

“What the hell is going here?” Nat shouted.

“Nothing,” Steve said, “you’re coming with me.”

Steve started walking to the front of the building, quickly calling a cab when you were outside in the cold. 

“What are you doing? Steve no it’s my birthday! ”

“Exactly, let me treat the pretty birthday girl to something nice,” he came and whispered into your ear making you shudder in arousal.

“And what would that be?” you retorted.

“Oh you’ll see,” he practically threw in the cab that instantly started driving to the compound.

Steve dragged you to his room and tossed on the bed before turning around, locking the door behind him. Your body trembled nervous and excited for what Steve was going to do next.  

“You think you can get away with that knowing you belong to me?”

“I don’t belong to you. You don’t get to say that, you never even stayed until morning.”

“Watch your mouth, princess.” he grabbed your jaw making you look at him. You shut your mouth real quick.

“You think you can act like fucking little slut around Bucky, practically begging him to fuck with your eyes. Well baby girl, your mine. Got it?”

You simply nodded your head, arousal pooling in your panties. Steve never showed you any kind of affection during your nightly affair but seeing him jealous and possessive was a huge turn on.

“Yes, captain,” he said, pulling your hair to make you look at him.

“Yes, captain,” you whimpered.

“Take off your dress, leave the chain and heels.”

You scrambled to the bed after nearly tearing your dress off your body. Steve went to the bathroom for a brisk moment unsure as to why but soon enough emerged rolling the sleeves of his collared shirt up his enormous forearms. 

You laid spread against the bed awaiting your encounter with Steve. He stalked towards you with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face; oh the things he was gonna do to you tonight. 

“Look at you.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, moving your thighs together to squeeze out some sort of friction to your sensitive pussy. 

“What? You’re squirming around around like fish out of water,” he kneeled to the floor, “but your fucking soaked.

In front of his face there was an embarrassingly large wet spot on your panties, the lace doing next to nothing to keep your arousal contained. Steve’s hands lingered up your  ankles and calves, kissing your legs and knees so softly. You whined and whimpered hoping for Steve to just have his way with you already, but he continued to be torturous and take his ever sweet time with you.

“What’s the matter you dumb baby? You want me to make you feel good? You want me to use my mouth on you and make you come as many times as you can,” he mocked.

“Yes! Please, Steve!”

With that he ripped your underwear going straight in with absolutely no warning making you moan loud. Steve’s tongue circled around your hole and his nose brushed your clit, driving you crazy. He brought his hand up to you and inserted a finger into your pussy.  

No matter how many times Steve fucks you’d probably never get used to even his thick fingers he often used on you. Not long after, Steve inserted another finger making you wrap your legs around his head, calves falling over his shoulders. Since you still had your heels on, they dug painful but pleasurable into Steve’s back, making him moan in return.

The moans eliciting from him make your pussy pulse around his fingers signaling you were extremely close to having your first orgasm of the night. Your hands flew to Steve’s hair and tugged on his long locks. His beard scratched you beautifully. He moved quicker and you almost instantly came all over his face. 

“Fucking whore. You gonna come?” Steve said. 

“Yes, captain! I’m gonna come,” you shouted.

When you did, Steve stood up quickly and manhandled you onto your stomach pulling you by your hips so your knees were under them. You turned your head forward toward the giant mirror that Steve had on his wall, said ‘it made the room look bigger’. 

You looked in the mirror and saw as Steve came behind you unzipping his pants then rubbing his hands roughly along your back. You shivered at how you laid completely bare for him, nothing but a body chain and heels, but he stood on his knees behind you fully clothed ready to use to his heart’s desire. 

“You think you could get away with acting like a fucking slut with that stunt you pulled? Did you think you could get away with that, you little bitch?” he smacked your ass.

You only whined as your body flinched. When you didn’t answer him he grabbed your hair and pulled up to your knees; your back completely flushed against his chest. 

“I asked you a fucking question,” he growled in your ear; making direct eye contact with you in the mirror. His sharp blue eyes are nearly black with lust.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, baby,” you told him.

“Oh yeah? Cause it looked like you wanted Bucky to bend you over that fucking bar and take you for everyone to see.” 

“Maybe I did it to make you jealous.”

“Jealous?” Steve wrapped his hand around the throat making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m not jealous because you and I both know you belong to me and tonight I’m gonna make sure everybody in this fucking compound knows it, especially Bucky.”

You moaned at his words so loud it was almost pornographic. Hearing Steve become extremely possessive made you feel dare you say, loved. 

Steve shoved you face back into the mattress and grabbed his dick to line up with your dripping pussy. He gave no warning as he thrusted into you making you nearly scream in pure pleasure. You gripped the sheets hard making your knuckles turn white. Steve threw his head back from pure bliss in your sex. You felt amazing, perfect.

You looked at him in the mirror and came at the sight of him. That clearly didn’t stop Steve as he continued to thrust into you even harder than before chasing his own release. He grabbed at his collar shirt and ripped it open feeling overwhelmed with heat. 

His hand reached for your hair once again to pull flush against him. One hand circled around to rub at your clit, stimulating another orgasm approaching while the other wrapped around your throat more to keep you in place than bring you satisfaction. Tears streaming down your face in pleasure, mascara slightly messy and running.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Look at us,” he looked in the mirror.

“You see how precious you look right now? Like a fucking angel.”

You could only whimper and moan at the sight in front of you. Steve completely ruining you in the best way possible. 

“No one is ever gonna be able to fuck you as good as I do, got it? Your mine. Say it, tell me your mine, princess.”

“I’m yours! Oh god Steve baby, I’m all yours!”

With that you came hard on Steve’s dick, him too; hot spurts of his cum shooting into you. You fell forward, arms nearly giving out but Steve picked you up and leaned back with you back on his chest. His hands moved softly across your body, everything quiet around you two. The smell of sex lingering in the air, silence wrapping around you like a blanket. 

You stayed that way for a minute. You tried your best to catch your breath already beginning to feel really sore between your thighs. Steve moved you and laid gently on his bed before hurrying to the bathroom. You laid there wondering if Steve just had an episode, a desire to take control of something again, or if he actually wanted you to be his, to love you like you would dream at night after he left. 

He came back wearing nothing but a new set of boxers seemingly to have cleaned himself up. He had a washcloth with him however and began to wipe your makeup you had on. Once you were clean he carefully removed your body chain and heels, rubbing your feet to relieve any soreness from them too. 

He picked you and set you on his bathroom counter, everything still quiet around. That silence was broken however when he turned on the faucet to run yourselves a bath. When you both sat comfortably, lying on his chest in between his legs, he wet your hair and gently washed it rinsing after. You dried yourselves and when you went to put your dress back on ready to leave for the night, Steve stopped you.

“Don’t leave. Please,” he begged.

“I thought-”

“I want you to stay,” he didn’t only mean the night, he meant with him… forever. Or at least as long as you’ll have him, so hopefully forever.

“Steve,” you whispered holding his face.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I promise I’ll explain everything, just I know I was really rough right now and I want you to rest,” he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Ok, you promise?”

“Promise.”

He went to grab a shirt for you to wear for the night but you simply led him back to the bed and crawled underneath the sheets. He asked about clothes and you just ignored him enticing a chuckle from him. 

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you baby girl.”

But you were already asleep.

+++

The next morning you woke up with the sun shining the most beautiful golden rays upon your skin. You two talked about what exactly happened last night and where you two would go from there. Thankful, feelings were mutual and you felt happy.

Heading down for breakfast you held Steve’s hand and everyone looked at you guys strangely. 

“Did you guys hook up last night or what’d I miss?”

“It’s really complicated,” you said curling closer to his side.

“You ok?” Nat whispered to you before you and Steve returned to his room with plates of breakfast. 

“Oh yeah,” you smiled.

“I feel great.”

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve x y/n #nomad!steve #marvel smut #steve x you #nomad steve x reader #chris evans #chris evans smut

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 3

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room. 

He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.

On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at  the camera while everyone was sleeping.

He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.

You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?” 

When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation. 

You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.

“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up. 

“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers. 

He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways. 

“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy. 

“Hmm. Depends,” you answer. 

He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”

The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.

“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”

“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.

You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you. 

“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity. 

If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.

Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident. 

It just … happened.

“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.” 

Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”

You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.

You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?” 

He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”

You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”  

Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty. 

“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”

Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”

You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night? 

Should he?

He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing. 

Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury. 

“Can you get your face away from me?” 

You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?

“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”

His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps. 

Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.

“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.  

You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him. 

“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you. 

“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.

“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.

“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.

“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”

He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”

“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”

You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private. 

If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.

“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”

Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.” 

You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.

--

With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of  the data you tallied from last season’s games.

“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.

She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima. 

On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night. 

“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why. 

Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him. 

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it. 

He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”

You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’ 

This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort. 

It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.

“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare. 

His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves. 

“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent. 

Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.

“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.

Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.

He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking. 

He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.

“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.

“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball. 

Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump. 

The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again. 

You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.

It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.

You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire. 

Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first. 

You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.

‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one. 

“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.

He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.

You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.

He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball. 

With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.

He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours. 

But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one. 

“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot. 

“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.

“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego. 

“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is. 

“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return. 

“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.

“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.

“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time. 

--

Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.

The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.

It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it. 

“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag. 

“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.” 

His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.

“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.

“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.

When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.

“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen. 

He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.

That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin. 

Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.

“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain. 

Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still  remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his. 

“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”

He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day. 

He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously. 

You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.

You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.

“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”

Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing. 

He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.

“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?” 

It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.

Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on. 

When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one. 

Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper. 

He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.

What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it. 

In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.

He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on. 

“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”

You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.

He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong. 

You suddenly close your laptop and start whining. 

“Tsukki.”

As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence. 

“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder. 

For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.

“Tsuuuk -”

“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.

“I’m bored,” you pout. 

He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old? 

“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain. 

“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are. 

He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you. 

“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes. 

“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened. 

“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit. 

He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining. 

“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”

He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion. 

He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time. 

But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing. 

Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”

He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”

Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break. 

“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”

He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”

You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”

Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.

“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”

You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?” 

You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.

“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain. 

If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses. 

Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan. 

“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”

His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about. 

“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth. 

But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.

“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.

“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”

You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.

You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.

You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed. 

When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not. 

Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing. 

You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you. 

His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits. 

“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”

He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.

Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.

“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won. 

But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.

“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely. 

The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you. 

“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.

“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.

Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.

He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.

You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice. 

You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out. 

He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”

You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess. 

You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything. 

“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open. 

“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain. 

You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project. 

“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.

You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even. 

“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question. 

You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either. 

“I don’t know,” you surrender. 

His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition. 

Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table. 

You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.

“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more. 

“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”

He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago. 

“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable. 

You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present. 

“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.

It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.

He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.

“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.

You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last. 

“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”

Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.

“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”

You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat. 

“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.

He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.

You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up. 

He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation. 

He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face. 

“You have a slightly above average face.”

You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first. 

Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?

Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.

Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.

You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’

But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered. 

What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness. 

With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”  

Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.

He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.

Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.

“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review. 

“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.

So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t. 

But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.

“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff. 

You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up. 

“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.

“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.  

You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”

As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.

“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface. 

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu  @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop​

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima smut #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #tags pls work

[secondhoekage]

Ignore this long rant I’m high as shit but I... can’t take the hero commission oR HONESTLY THE HEROES THEMSELVES, seriously anymore

They’re BRAINLESS they all share one (1) brain cell and it belonged to Crust. THESE GUYS had MONTHS to strategize this attack and what did they do? They fucked it up. They want me to believe this was planned and not written on a chalk board the night before? Sent out to all heroes the next morning at 8am in a CHAIN EMAIL?

Unpopular opinion(?): they sent the worst possible, ill-suited heroes to each location for this PLF raid and I’m mad at them for it and I’m mad at Hori for making me be mad at it even tho he had to do it beCauSe oF pLot but I’m mad.

The MLA’s plans to take on The League of Villains? Spotless. Chef’s kiss. The detail. The one-on-one counters they planned out. Accounting for each enemy’s quirk. Yeah there were like 6 of them to account for but?? Heroes, yall had enough info and enough time to think of ways to go about this raid and I’m supposed to believe that you did, BUT DID YOU REALLY? MONTHS TO PLAN, and saw one electric Sir Crocodile rip-off and immediately threw Kaminari on his ass. Good move. Kinda. But the rest of the PLF? Heroes just gonna make shit up as they go I guess?? 

To make myself feel better here’s a long ass useless rant on what could’ve damn happened and which heroes should’ve gone where and to make this an epic ass rumble. ugh. Even just doing some of these things would’ve made this arc (imo) feel more... convincing and delicious

under the cut tho bc damn this is too long

In this essay I will—

Edgeshot??? EDGESHOT??    EDGESHOT?? i’M GOING TO GO OFF. 

I swear to shit Edgeshot could’ve soloed the hospital but they had him at the PLF mansion for Some Reason like... like they didn’t make him run up on the League’s bar instead of the Nomu factory bc they knew he would take care of shit immediately. Make it make sense. If he was at the hospital eye just—Nomu in the way?? Doctor running off? Say less. Electric slide all the way in there Shinya. DID NO ONE SEE HOW EASILY HE HANDLED KUROGIRI? Did everyone just forget this man can pull a K.O in .3 seconds flat? Heroes didn’t think it might be a good idea to have him there, ready to give Shigaraki the paper cut of his life the second he woke up (if he even did bc my mans likely could’ve prevented the ‘doctor getting away>high-end awaken>rush to get shiggy out of the tank>shiggy wakes up’ chain of events)? Didn’t think to send him instead of this guy X Less just sitting there with That Look on his face? 

I get they needed heroes like Edgeshot at the mansion to take out a handful of enemies in one go but COME ON NOW. There were more than enough long-range AOE heroes there. And even if you don’t wanna believe he could solo then STILL, EDGESHOT DUOING WITH MIRUKO, ANYBODY? If anyone was gonna keep up with her happy ass zooming into the lab it could’ve been him. We were robbed of an Edgeshot/Miruko teamup and I’m not okay. Could’ve had a sexy ass panel of the hospital-team hyping up Miruko and Edgeshot as they dashed to Ujiko’s lab, two fast as shit bad bitches, zooming through these Nomu, absolutely obliterating them at lightning speed, watching each other’s backs too, PROBABLY SAVING MIRUKO FROM BECOMING THE PRE-DEATH ORGAN DONOR THAT SHE IS NOW. I know it was hot watching Miruko take on these high-ends but I’d have rather Edgeshot share the spotlight if it meant Miruko was in one piece rn. Hori played her

Anyways the literal dumb bitch energy that went into not sending Edgeshot to the hospital is sending me. Could’ve at least let him just be on the team and on standby while Shigaraki was waking up. With those sharp as shit reflexes of his we’ve seen? Shigaraki would’ve been out like a fucking light the second Edgeshot saw him sit up. X-Less you had a nice thicc upper lip that lip was too shaded for you to die, but F in the chat bitch. Useless plot fodder I’m sorry X-Less. There isn’t a hero there right now (besides Aizawa but like... idk, plot is nerfing him) that could’ve incapacitated Shiggy so quickly and prevented the mess they’re in now like my guy Edgeshot could’ve. Feels like a cop out

In conclusion: Edgeshot sweety I’m sorry they did this. I’m sorry you were nerfed. I’m sorry they didn’t let you deliver Kamino Pizza to this hospital. I’m sorry they ignored you and now everyone’s gonna die bc they didn’t they respect your Ninpo rights

CEMENTOSS??? y’all sent him to fuck up the mansion FOR WHAT??? If I were the hero commission and thought :

“Dang we need to completely ass blast this huge PLF resort to make room for our heroes to run in... but it would also be good if we had someone to do that at the hospital too just in case things get tricky and we need to pave a quick way to Ujiko’s secret hideout... but I’m single-celled and can’t weigh my options logically so ok. Cementoss, to the mansion.”

...................... Ok but can I in interest you in PIXIE BOB? I get the mansion is huge but going by the shit we’ve seen her do?? I’m not about to underestimate ol’ girl. I know she could’ve fucked that place up if they let her, switched her out for Cementoss, who could’ve made THE EASIEST route for the hospital team to get into the secret lab, trapped Ujiko, also trapped a couple nomu/high-ends in cement while he was at it, rearranged some tunnels for optimal tactical movement, probably could’ve done a decent-fucking-job at slowing the onslaught of Decay too if it got to that point (AND IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BC THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS RANT IS TO INSIST THAT A BETTER SELECTION OF HEROES WOULDN’T HAVE RESULTED IN SHIGGY’S CURRENT THANOS SNAP ORdEAL)

I know Pixie’s mostly on rescue operations and that’s what she’s doing at the hospital/surrounding city but WHY?? EVEN IF THEY REALLY NEEDED CEMENTOSS AT THE MANSION—WHY NOT HAVE PIXIE BOB DOING SOMETHING IN THE ACTUAL HOSPITAL BATTLE? JUST A LITTLE? The hospital is built on uh.. oh yeah... EARTH? And considering in the Forest Training arc she was using her quirk from a remote location (to make that Earth golem, or whatever) she wouldn’t even HAVE to be IN Ujiko’s lab to be useful

Can y’all PLEASE put at least ONE of your terraforming heroes at the place where y’all REALLY need them?? And not after-the-fact like y’all just did with Pixie Bob? Because clearly she didn’t do shit this last chapter trying to stop Decay. I’m sorry girl. You may be dead. Terrible.

I would have legitimately sent Snipe to get Ujiko before I sent Miruko and that’s that on that. Where is he even? He was there during the briefing but he’s gone? MIA? Idk. No way Ujiko is getting away from those bullets. Target locked: Ujiko’s hand. Fire. High-end Nomu remote goes bye bye. Then another bullet in the leg. No need to worry about him escaping and waking up high-ends/Shiggy when he doesn’t have kneecaps. Problem solved. No way it would’ve taken that long to break Shiggy’s tank either with a few well-placed pew pews zigging around some Nomu (not that we really wanna break him outta his tank bc look what happened). Snipe’s 6/5 technique stat deserves better!!!!!

Gang Orca did not go off and give a bunch of kids brain damage during the License arc to be so thoroughly ignored here. He’s clearly about to get his shit rocked by some gauged-out ex-Hot Topic employee in the next few chapters and ugh you’re TOO GOOD FOR THAT ORCA. COULD’VE BEEN OF USE AT THE HOSPITAL. PARALYZING SONIC WAVES? WE’LL TAKE IT. Who knows if any of the high-end Nomu would’ve been affected by paralysis but the small fry? Probably. Shiggy’s little twink ass? I would bet on it. Not that it would really stop him from using Decay but still

At the risk of sounding like someone I know who endorses child labor (the hero commission) here me out: CAN I GET A UHHH JUZO HONENUKI??? AGAIN YEAH good that he was at the mansion to do some long-range AOE action but if y’all are gonna force kids to join in on this war anyways, put your strongest and most useful ones at the place you need them. Shit it would’ve been real nice if Honenuki was there to trap some Nomu—uncertain if it would work against the high-ends that show some pretty flexible quirks but who knows—and even at the risk of reaching, maybe in some universe where Shiggy and Honenuki face off, it would be interesting to see Decay against Softening, since Decay’s one big weakness is that it can only work on solid objects sooOooOo? Idk. Would’ve been a cool match up but I hate that the kids are fighting anyways so we’re gonna ignore this Juzo rant. Just know it would’ve been cool

And as for the mess that’s going to be this fucking mansion soon... .. We’re just gonna ignore a whole ass Geten, big destructive power, big fucking threat, and not gonna throw Endeavor’s ass in there? Makes sense. They’re leaving it to Shoto I guess. They said time for you to fucking shine kid. Get in there. I mean really trading Endeavor for Edgeshot would’ve been top tier strategy but...

I MEAN THEY?? Made up a whole ass plan to counter ONE greasy-looking PLF guy by throwing Kaminari in there, but they couldn’t make up a plan to counter Geten? Are they just?? Pulling names out of a hat to see who gets to fight who? Did they spin a bottle to see who it landed on? Did Mt. Lady pull the short stick? I swear on shit when Geten starts going feral soon I’m not gonna feel sorry about it. Unless heroes got a plan and someone’s gonna make a sexy ass top 10 anime entrances to counter his ice then I’m disappointed. We went ape shit over Kaminari countering one of the commanders but are we not gonna get anymore ‘I’m your perfect counter and I’m here to stop you’ moments? No? I’M PISSED. 

I would have also settled for my kween Nejire being there to blast away some ice because who tf else is gonna do it? But eh. 

Dabi will also be trouble depending on what he decides to do. He only has about 3 good ideas a month and he’s used them all up by now so he’s in dumb slut territory as we speak. But you’d think that a villain as widely recognized as Dabi with such a destructive quirk would urge the heroes to have some plan to take him on but?? So far I don’t really see anyone quick to take on the role. Not that it’d be that hard bc he’s dangerous but also dangerously dumb. Where is Inasa. Maybe he can just blast the flames back in Dabi’s face. I love him but at this point he deserves to have some of his rights taken away

Don’t even get me start on Gigantomachia. I get the heroes had little choice except to attack before Shiggy was full-power but just?? NOT having a plan in case by some little chance Gigantomachia DID wake up? You stupid bastards. You absolute fools. I guess there’s not much you CAN do but FUCK y’all just gonna let him SIT THERE? No counter measures? No ‘Let’s execute this incredibly thorough and thought-out plan we’ve spent months formulating to restrain Gigantomachia in case he does end up waking up, because better safe than sorry’? When he tramples like 50 students I bet that shit gonna hurt

I hate it all. I was really happy about seeing Shiggy go off 272 bc he’s a king but after rereading from like, 258 I feel... weird. Maybe this will be resolved with more chapters but. eh. Now that I’ve thought of this, I can’t go back. I miss the brain power that was behind the MLA fight

#bnha spoilers #bnha 272 #i'm mad #bnha #Why did I make this? It’s so dumb #i'm gonna wake up tomorrow and scream #they're 2d bro LMAOOOO #is htis a meta #meta #bnha meta

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 4)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Logan’s statement did not appear to go over well with the small assassin. He went still and curled over into himself as though to protect his more vulnerable areas. Honestly, Logan thought agitated, Logan hadn’t threatened any bodily harm. He’d even prefaced the statement with an apology even though he didn’t feel as though he had anything to apologize for! Just like father had taught him!

Patton shot him a glare, telling him he was somehow in the wrong despite the fact that he’d been the one who was almost assassinated. Logan grumbled and returned to quietly sulking in the background while Patton cooed at the assassin, trying to cajole him out of the ball he’d wrapped himself into.

Logan did have to admit the situation was odd. He was young. He didn’t even know anyone trained assassins so young. His kingdom did have a guild of trained assassins/spies, but one couldn’t even join the military until one was of age (though they could start training at 16 with special permission) and all assassins must have at least a year of military training before being considered. It would be years more before they were sent out on actual missions.

So, where had this young boy came from? Surely, he wasn’t acting of his own volition, especially considering his age and temperament. What was his or whoever had sent him’s greater purpose? One didn’t attempt the risky act of regicide without some reasoning. Why did he only have one weapon? Most hired killers would be provided with a backup at the very least and more than likely an arsenal. Why was he acting so skittish? It was a strange attitude for a trained killer.

He had piqued Logan’s curiosity and Logan wanted answers.

“There, see?” Patton was saying. He was hand feeding more of the cookie to the assassin who looked just as startled by this fact the second time around as the first. “How about a compromise?”

Logan eyed him suspiciously. He was willing to let Patton lead since Logan was well aware of his own shortcomings when it came to tact, but his friend also had a bit of a bleeding heart. Logan refused to let him put himself at risk.

Ironically, the assassin seemed to be on the same page as Logan. His eyes tracked Patton distrustfully. “Compromise?” he echoed.

“Yes!” Patton said, unconcerned with the blatant discomfort in the room.

“We’ll ask you a question and you answer it,” Patton said. “Then you can ask a question and we’ll answer that. Then we can keep going back and forth like that.”

The assassin seemed unsure about this, but he slowly nodded. “What’s your question?” he asked.

Patton looked back at Logan and inclined his head. Logan took a step forward. “Who are you?” Logan asked. The assassin hesitated.

“Maybe a more specific question,” Patton suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time and ‘who are you?’ is a bit of a big question. There are so many different answers!”

“Very well,” Logan agreed. “Let’s start with, what’s your name?”

The assassin considered him, looking overly cautious for such a mundane question. “It’s Virgil,” he said after a moment.

“Last name?” Logan prompted.

“I-” he hesitated, looking distressed. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?” Logan asked.

And… he was curling up into a ball again. “Sorry,” he said softly. He started to cry again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, hey,” Patton soothed. “That was good.”

Logan frowned. It was not ‘good’. It had given them basically no information. “Why-”

“It’s Virgil’s turn to ask a question, Logan,” Patton said. Logan almost groaned. This was going to take forever, wasn’t it?

Virgil’s eyes bounced between them. “Why haven’t you called someone to take me away yet?” he asked.

“We wanted to ask you a few questions ourselves before getting the castle guards involved,” Logan answered.

“Are…” he shut his mouth, likely realizing he’d have to wait for his next question.

Logan considered him. “Why do you have no last name?” Logan asked.

Virgil looked away. “I’m an orphan. I don’t know who my parents were, and no one bothered to give me one.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Logan acknowledged. “And your question?”

“Are…” Virgil said. “Are you going to torture me if I don’t answer something right?”

Patton let out a little pained exhale.

“Why would we do that?” Logan asked.

“Why wouldn’t you do that?” he replied.

“Where the hell are you from where that’s a question?”

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

“Why the hell would you be defending a place that makes you think that’s a normal question?”

“What the fuck are you even on about?”

“Okay,” Patton cut Logan off before he retorted in kind. “I think that’s enough of the question game at the moment.” He stood up and walked back over to the plate of cookies.

“He-” Logan started to grouse and got a sugar cookie pushed into his mouth to silence him.

Logan frowned around the cookie as Patton went back and offered the other cookie to Virgil. Virgil turned his head away from it. Logan’s eyes watched the assassin as Patton thought for a moment and then tore a bit of the cookie off. He ate the bite himself before offering the cookie again. This Virgil was a suspicious thing, Logan thought as the boy slowly ate a bite of cookie.

It made Logan’s curiosity itch even more, but at this rate he wasn’t going to get any answers. He polished off the sugar cookie and then walked over to sit on the floor next to where Patton was kneeling.

Virgil watched him move and Logan met his eyes. “No, by the way,” Logan thought to answer. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

Logan tried not to bristle at the disbelieving look on his face. Logically that distrust had nothing to do with Logan personally, but with whatever his experiences were before this.

Logan tilted his head at him. “Why the one knife?”

Virgil blinked at that. “What?”

“The knife,” Logan reiterated. “You were clearly here to use it, but you only have one. It seems odd.”

“Uh…” Virgil said. “I don’t know. That’s all they gave me.”

Logan nodded. “Me or my dad?” he asked. “Or both?”

Virgil clearly didn’t want to answer. “The king,” he said.

Logan nodded, and it suddenly hit him exactly what would have occurred if he and Patton hadn’t happened to be awake. Virgil seemed to see the realization on his face. He braced himself as though expecting to be struck. Logan felt suddenly nauseous, the idea of a dead father hitting a bit too close to home after…

“And the guards?” Logan asked.

“I didn’t,” Virgil rushed to say. “Just a light sleeping potion. They probably didn’t even notice anything happen.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “Good.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll hand you over to the guards,” Logan said. “They’ll figure out what to do with you from there.”

He nodded, looking small, and Logan refused to feel guilty for it. Virgil had come here with the intention of killing Logan’s dad! Logan had no reason to feel guilty about turning him in. Besides, it wasn’t as though any of them were going to hurt or kill a literal child. Dad would never let them anyway. He’d be fine! There was no reason for his sad eyes that seemed almost too big for his face to make Logan want to squirm uncomfortably.

Logan sighed. “Are you still hungry?” he asked. “We do actually have more than just cookies in spite of Patton’s efforts.”

“We don’t have any more jam though because of Logan’s efforts earlier,” Patton said sweetly. Logan pursed his lips but didn’t deny it. Instead he just walked over to where they’d stored their extra snacks.

“How about some cheese?” Logan suggested, “and perhaps some milk to drink?”

“Why are you trying to feed me?” Virgil asked.

“Because you look hungry. Are you?”

He bit his lip and nodded. They split up the cheese between the three of them which seemed to soothe Virgil’s worry of poison. He ate what they offered him without complaint and drank most of the milk.

Logan managed to squeeze a few more answers out of the boy, but nowhere near enough to satiate his curiosity. Eventually, morning came, and Logan sighed. “We should probably…” he said, “turn you in.”

The boy looked like he might burst into sobs, but he just hung his head. Another stab of that unfounded guilt shot through Logan and the frown on Patton’s face just made it worse.

“I’ll talk to my father first,” Logan promised. “He’s a kind man. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

Virgil clearly didn’t believe him, but Logan knew it would be okay in the end.

“We should probably hide him before we leave though,” Logan told Patton. “Just in case.”

Patton nodded and looked around. “Closet?”

“That will be adequate,” Logan agreed. He turned to Virgil. “Those bracelets make your arms stay in place as you have seen, but I can move them at will. I’ll take your arms and guide you to the closet. You walk behind me. Understand?”

Virgil nodded and Logan picked up both of his wrists, pulling his arms in front of him and then using his grip to help the boy stand. He didn’t resist being pulled to his feet or led to the closet.

“Alright, let’s go,” Logan said. Patton had on his unhappy face, but Logan did his best to ignore it. This was the correct decision. He and Patton left his bedroom and crossed to his dad’s room. Logan knocked. He’d expected that he’d have to wake his father since it was still very early in the morning, so he was surprised when the door opened before Logan had even finished knocking.

“Logan,” Father said. “I was just coming to see you.” He was already dressed, and Logan raked his brain for any early morning appointments for today and came up blank.

“What about?” Logan asked.

“There’s been word that Lamir’s new Queen may be considering an alliance with Mocnejsi. Seeing as I knew her mother fairly well, I’m hoping I can talk her out of it,” he said.

“What should I do?” Logan asked.

Father turned back into the room. “You’ll stay here and oversee things while I’m gone,” he told Logan over his shoulder. “I’ll only be gone for three weeks and there is nothing major that will need to happen. Just make sure everything runs like usual.”

“You’re going to be gone for three weeks?” Logan asked.

“Yes,” Father confirmed.

Logan glanced at Patton who had turned to him, hands clasped and was shooting him his best pleading expression. “Okay,” Logan said, “have a nice trip.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 5

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

[jjba-hell]

Revoked

Still late for day 2 but I am enjoying the hell out of these prompts. (Today’s prompt was sci-fi)

Trigger warnings for the death of the ice cream gays but lemme know if I missed anything else.

Summary: a weird mismatched team of busted up aliens and half-blood humans just dealing with some shit.

For the lovely: @lasquadraweek2021

“You should really just transfer to a new body Pros. Humans aren’t supposed to live this long, babe.”

You grumble probably more to yourself than to the man whose forearm you were tinkering in. Well... maybe tinkering wasn’t the word either. He needed another repair and honestly you can’t help but feel like Risotto only offered you the air-mattress in the ship because so many of these psychos have bio-tech they can’t afford to upkeep.

“Sure, I can’t afford a rewire but I can surely afford getting my brain transplanted in a new body.”

“Human bodies are so easy to grow though.” You peer up at him over your magnify glasses with a wriggle of eyebrows. “Fully grown in a quarter rotation? Come on I still have to wait another half rotation to buy a swimsuit let alone grow a body.”

Prosciutto flexed the hand you were working on to spite you but all you did was strap the wrist down and switch off the impulse circuit before getting up and walking toward the exit of the ship where the others were sprawled out in the soft baby blue grass of the planet you were hiding out at.

Melone’s gaze shot from laptop up as you kicked your untied boots from your feet and slid into the grass, barely hearing him as he asked “Any luck with Pros’s arm?”

“I can’t keep mending the same two wires that keep popping off. Its best we find a place that can handle Babyface’s software and get a new one.”

“Still not budging for just replacing the whole thing?” Formaggio asked from somewhere across the clearing.

Like he was one to talk- Akils like him grew back heads and limbs, there wasn’t exactly a need to know anything about biotech.

“Nope. Are all humans this stubborn?”

“I think its the half Megnu in him.” Illuso was the one to chirp in this time.

“That’s still not confirmed.” You sat back on your feet to try and spot your teammates.

“Well he won’t let me analyze.” Melone sighed- continuing to worry away at the clear glass screen that held all his designs.

Melone truly was a bit of a madman to you- he designed the entirety of his body on that simple glass tablet and yet couldn’t finish his face in time before the feds were on him for unethical medical practice- ironic considering he was only putting himself through the strain of fitting his brain into a piece of machinery. What his official titles were in his old field were beyond you.

“Pesci’s not all Scud and he’s not half as stubborn.” You commented and with a soft hum the team fell back into silence.

“Where’s Ris?”

“He’s in bed- that last jump took a toll on him.” Illuso finally rose up from the grass himself heading a bit further away from the clearing, probably wandering after Ghiacchio who was asked to take a lap after he froze off Formaggio’s finger.

You clambered up a few steps to find your captain with the old-fashioned two-way radio in his hand as he lay passed out on couch of the shared living room.

Risotto would rather be caught dead than caught like this so, with intent, you stepped up to take the radio out of his hand. He seemed to gently wake at your fingers prying the piece or equipment from his hand.

“Shit.” He grumbled. “How long-?”

“Ghiacchio’s not even back from his lap- don’t worry. Just head off before they catch you.”

And with a slight groan he rolled up and disappeared down the hallways to his bunk which sounded with an ungraceful “clunk” as he fell into the bed.

Your name got hollered with the slightest tone of desperation from Prosciutto and with that you were back doing your part in the team behind the scene.

“You’re a purebred?” Prosciutto had eventually asked after a few minutes of boredom at watching you weld wires back to the motherboard.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What am I? A dog?”

He seemed to swallow his words.

“Where do you think I’m from?” You tried to smooth it over.

“Caestea- at least your appearance would have you look like that.”

Another laugh. “I’m from Earth, Pros.”

His eyes widened. “Impossible.”

“Oh yeah. My parents weren’t exactly refugees but they are most certainly not human. Fuck knows what my genetic makeup looks like but thankfully I certainly age like a Caestean. You are all human, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Not that there are many of us left.”

In a sense you felt bad for him. You’d seen photos of Earth long before it started to mimic its brother planet Mars but you rarely thought of how wickedly the planet must have lost its life before intergalactic intervention. Humans were strangely scared and selfish creatures but no one deserved to die because there was no clean water to drink.

You shook off the macabre though before closing up Pros’s arm and putting away the tools. “That should do for now but we really do need to think of a replacement in the near future.”

“Thanks.”

It was a half-assed thank you but it surely caught your attention. Pros was a little too prideful to give just anyone a thanks but nonetheless you returned the sentiment. “No problem.”

Outside the boys were fighting again- or rather Ghiacchio was arguing as Formaggio was pushing his buttons while Pesci grilled a rather obscenely colorful fish over the fire-in-tin.

“Oh just the person we needed to see.”

Getting clasped with two arms over the neck was bad enough but from Sorbet and Gelato, now that was trouble waiting to start.

“Oh gods, what do I have to offer this time.”

“Don’t be so serious!” Sorbet cooed darkly.

“We were just hoping you could help us out with the next target.” His boyfriend added.

If you could just roll your eyes back far enough.

“Wandering off from our captain’s orders doesn’t sound like something I’d want to get myself involved in.”

“Not even for a bionic manufacturer?”

“Or a healing bay, for the ship? Surely you could install those things no problem.”

Honestly it was hard not to fall for the stereotype that all Makzi’s do is play dirty and haggle like merchants but here you were, stuck between them and being tempted into breaking formation with them.

“And what would I have to lose?”

“Nothing much-“

“Maybe some face with Risotto.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You want me to convince him?”

“Exactly- he might actually consider something if it came out of your pretty mouth.”

“Or rather, if he could come in it.”

You took one step back and bowed out of the hold between the two of them. “Fucking sleezes. Your shit’s gonna get you killed, mark my words.”

“So its a no?”

“Its a fuck no, Sorbet. Vile comments aside, that shit is expensive, even dent-jobs sell for millions... that kind of money is too big a job for us to handle right now and stealing one even more. Get your heads out of your asses before you come up to me with more dumb shit, next time.”

And with that you slipped back beside Illuso as Pesci was grilling up the third fish for the night. Looking back at what you had said was not untrue. That night you were restless in your bunker above Formaggio- Illuso peering behind the sliding divider across the little hallway that ran between the bed bunks.

“Something on your conscience?”

“No.”

“You sure?” You nearly leapt out of skin as Formaggio’s forehead popped up just below your chin outside your divider. “You’ve turned and kicked like 10 times, babe.”

“Please don’t babe me.” You frown at him but you answered the gnawing feeling by asking. “Where are Sorbet and Gelato?”

“Probably in their bed.” Illuso answered as if there wasn’t a more logical answer.

“Wanna put money on it?” Your eyebrow raised.

“And catch them in the act? Daaamn you’re dirtier than I thought.”

“Come on then, 10 drinks at the next stop they’re not in their bunk.”

“Shit, I can’t miss on that opportunity.” Formaggio’s divider slid open all the way to allow him to plop with bare feet to the double bunks at the end of the hallway.” You and Illuso watched in trepidation as he knelt down and knocked. There was no answer save for Risotto’s stern frown behind the top divider making an appearance. “What do you want?”

“Are Sorbet and Gelato in there?” You piped up first.

The angry frown turned into concern as he slid out of his bunk to replace where Formaggio was. He slid the door open to reveal one big empty bed.

What you’d have given to be wrong. But instead the panic bit you all and soon you were messily slipping on boots and running around the ship to find the missing lovers.

Pesci checked the engine compartments he might have accidentally left open, Pros checked the storage while Risotto was seeing if he could track them on the radar. It was only when you were hoisted onto the roof by Formaggio that the dread set into your bones.

“Tell Ris to switch on the overhead console lights.”

You called back down below you. Part of you wished you didn’t... since all it did was put them on display.

It was a vile thing that made Risotto’s eyes grow darker than they already were and once dawn broke, you and Melone quietly put the bodies into the best makeshift body bags you could manage. The lake a few paces away was where you last saw those body bags.

After you left that pit stop you sat in silence in the communal meeting area, your legs flung over one of the armrests in your seat- staring blankly at the coffee table you’d nipped from a market not too long ago.

“So... what’s the plan?”

You asked at anyone who would listen.

“Do we go on as usual? Find their families?”

“Revenge?”

Your head turned to Prosciutto as he was enjoying one last drag of his cigarette.

“You’re brave.” You huffed a bit of laughter at the thought. The big boss and his cronies- the only real reason none of you strayed from Risotto’s orders was way up on a station so far up the intergalactic alliance ladder that you’d have a better shot at killing the king of Gnomia B908 and getting away with it.

“Why not?” Illuso was the one to back it. “Surely we could track the sick fucks that did it.”

“You’re thinking too simply.” Risotto grumbled over his fist. “They didn’t get themselves killed by accident. This was deliberate- a display not to challenge the higher ups.”

“Any idea what they were planning?” You sat up, propping your elbows onto your knees.

Risotto kindly pulled up their hidden plans- your name encircled in red a few times. They seemed to have had their eye on a biotech printer and medbay that was once used by the Boss himself.

“What’s the relevance of an old medbay?” Pros posed the question to you- Melone was up front with Formaggio.

“Medbays need to keep track of any irregularities in DNA to avoid any incompatibility issues. Its one of the few things that can’t be wiped because its burned into the drive. They were trying to expose the Boss’s identity.”

“And they were planning on risking us all in the process?”

You pointed at a little arrow shooting off your name once more. “They figured I could remove and replace the hard drive before anyone noticed.”

Your throat felt dry as you realized what that meant. Whoever this person was... if they could follow something as irrelevant as a used medbay to keep their tracks clean... chances are you were all, at best, being watched.

The thought must have been shared as Risotto didn’t breathe a word as he moved to the front of the ship and changed course to an unaffiliated vector you know damn well you’d probably be searched and cleansed for.

To no one’s surprise the pristine white towers blinded and no sooner than two seconds of coming into orbit of one of the bigger planets you were requested to land.

You stood beside you captain as the ship docked and you waited with your hands behind your head to greet the haz-mat team. “You must be pretty serious about this if you’re willing to get sit in their prison.”

He gazed down at you and with a deadpan tone simply said: “You’ve escaped, I’m certain you could do it again.”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #la squadra #jojo part 5 #risotto nero #prosciutto #illuso #formaggio #ghiaccio #whole gang’s here... more or less #lasquadraweek2021

[asterekmess]

1-4 What the fuck is a true alpha? A recurring joke? A convenient plot armor? A desperate attempt to make an irrelevant character look ‘relevant’ despite canon showing otherwise? Scott/Posey Stans think that Scott McCall has a right to command and dictate everyone’s life because he is a tWuE aLpAhA; Scott has a right to play judge, jury & executioner with his “inferior” friends, and he has a right to determine what is wrong or right based on his own benefit and bigoted black and white mentality.

2-4 If you think that this sounds an awful lot like the Divine Right of Kings, you are absolutely right. An unearned (and undeserved) mystical superiority or blessing, a fabricated sense of purity, goes a long way in ameliorating Scott McCall’s Failures and Fuck-ups. And like kings who rule by Divine Right, he can do as he likes. Which is why Scott can patronize and lie to Allison and Kira to control them, assault Isaac and Jackson due to his own pathological jealousy and possessiveness,

3-4 use Hayden (Liam’s girlfriend) as bait against the Dread Doctors without her consent to play the hero, dehumanize Stiles and accuse Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and serial killer for daring to accidentally kill his abuser in self-defense, sell Derek and his Pack to the hunters, refuse to tell his girlfriend Allison the truth about her mother’s death to look ‘good’ in her eyes,

4-4 plot/conspire with Gerard Argent and Deaton behind everyone’s back to violate Derek Hale’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent for his own benefit, claim that the Argents had a reason to slaughter the Hales (including HUMANS and CHILDREN) in front of Derek Hale and of his comatose uncle – and then Scott/Posey Stans will consider everyone kicking Scott’s whiny, toxic excuse of an ass to the curb and not giving an utter crap when Scott died in Season 5 as an act equivalent of treason

I put all your asks together so I didn’t get confused (which is v likely to happen) and I thank you for numbering them for me. <3

The concept of a true alpha...sigh. Look, I see the intention, okay? I see the goal, the idea that you don’t have to kill someone to become an Alpha. That there can be “Good” Alphas who haven’t killed anyone. But I also think it’s lazy writing. This is one the few instances where TW hadn’t actually shot themselves in the foot yet. They gave us so little information on werewolves that they never actually said that the only way to become an Alpha was by killing another Alpha. They could very easily have said “Also, you can become an Alpha this other way” (Be it by passing the Alpha spark down to children willingly, or being beaten in a special kind of combat, or through a ritual of some kind)

But they didn’t just want another way to be the Alpha. They wanted a way that didn’t take any effort. It would be too hard to introduce another Alpha that would give up their spark to Scott, or to have him put in the effort to do a ritual. They needed a way to make Scott an Alpha without any additional effort. Part of me honestly wonders if they did it because they knew they’d lost a lot of Scott fans by the end of Season 2, what with all of his betrayals and lies and what he did to Derek. They needed a way to reaffirm that Scott was the good guy, so they made up the True Alpha thing and said “Look! He’s so pure and goodhearted and he has so much good will, that he can’t even help but become an Alpha”

They demonized werewolves by reducing them to murderers who had to kill for power (In Derek’s case it was survival, and i’ll fight for him.) and then held Scott up as a saint because he managed it without killing.

Except that he had killed. Or at least tried to kill. How could he be this pure person they claimed if he spent weeks poisoning a cancer patient, lying to everyone around him, and he took Pleasure in it. He was Proud of himself for his lies and his tricks and for getting back at Derek by hurting him. That’s the kind of behavior we expect from Stiles, who is established as a morally gray character. You cannot have Scott do something like that and then make the claim that he is morally pure.

Once Scott finds out from Morrell that killing someone will take away his True Alpha status, he goes out of his way to avoid killing people even when it puts others at risk. This ISN’T an Avatar moment, okay? He doesn’t summon the power of his ancestors and render the villains completely incapable of harm. He just fucking lets them go! Deucalion gets his fucking eyesight back for fuck’s sake. He was MORE dangerous than before and they let him go! (I know Derek was part of that, but I’m pretty sure Derek was possessed by a pod person by that point)

He never said he’d behave. No one checked on him or watched to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone. They just let him leave. He could’ve just rebuilt a new Alpha pack. Could’ve killed dozens more people.

Jennifer would have too, had Peter not killed her.

Even better, he brings Ethan and Aiden into his pack. They walked right up to him and told him “Everyone is hunting for us because we killed a ton of people” and he just took them in? Gave them protection from the families of the people they’d slaughtered? All because they followed him around for a bit and said “We’ll only kill for you from now on.”

And this is why I get so frustrated about the blue eyes. The concept of ‘taking an innocent life’ is so fucking vague? Scott is indirectly responsible for countless deaths throughout the show. Whether by inaction or because the people doing the killing were acting on his orders, or whatever the fuck else I can’t think of at the moment. It doesn’t matter if he hasn’t intended to kill anyone. He should not still have his True Alpha status. Period. But he does, so apparently Scott can kill as many people as he wants, actually, so long as he doesn’t do it with his own claws and teeth. Or maybe he just can’t kill a human who hasn’t killed anyone else? Who the fuck knows.

I’ll say it again. If The Alpha spark can be used to heal someone, why didn’t Scott use it to save Allison? She wasn’t cursed. She was stabbed. He could’ve done the same thing Derek did. Peter even said that it can be done on accident. All it requires is that he do the pain drain and not stop when it starts to hurt.

To be quite honest, I don’t blame Scott’s True Alpha eyes for his entitlement and his belief that he can do no wrong. He held that same notion way before his eyes ever turned red. The eyes are to blame for no one else calling him out for his actions. You’re told by the only fucking person who seems to know what’s going on in the supernatural world that this kid’s eyes turned red all on their own because he is meant to be an Alpha. That it’s because he is good and pure and it’s a sign of his worthiness. He literally was just gifted extra power, apparently because he’s the only one worthy of it. How the fuck are you supposed to deal with that? Are you supposed to be the one person who tells fucking Werewolf Jesus (technically Derek is Actual werewolf jesus what with the evolution thing, but before that Scott’s as close as it gets cus’ Peter’s just a zombie.) that he doesn’t know best? That he’s doing something wrong? If the Powers that Be made Scott an Alpha, what will they do to the one who tells him he fucked up? Everyone is just supposed to trust that Scott must be in the right. That his reasons are good enough. That he knows what’s best. Because if he doesn’t, then why the sudden Alpha eyes? Peter questions Scott often and happily, mostly because he doesn’t care if he gets struck by lightning or something. It’ll always be worth it to get that last quip in. Eventually Stiles starts to argue too, because he’s reached the point where he doesn’t care if he dies so long as everyone else important to him stops getting hurt. That’s when Scott starts cutting him out. When he stops believing Scott knows best.

And honestly, it’s like the first post I made that sparked this whole ranting binge. Scott cheats. He cheats and he uses his abilities to his advantage without ever thinking of what it does to other people. Except this time he’s not cheating at lacrosse. He’s not taking credit for bowling six strikes in a row. For some reason his eyes turned red, and everyone else is taking it as a sign that he must know better and he should be in charge, and he never disagrees.

Sure, he complains. “Why me? Why does it have to be my responsibility?”

Guess what buddy? It fucking doesn’t. If you stopped fucking ordering people around and admitted you don’t know what you’re doing to someone besides your MOM and you want someone else to take the lead? THEY WOULD. But because he will not admit any kind of weakness or that he isn’t sure what to do, he puts the weight on himself. He blames everyone else for the lead weights he tied around his waist. He doesn’t want to have to do the work, but he hates the idea of someone else being in charge. Of not being important. We’re told right off the bat that Scott wants to be important. He wants to be on first line not because he loves the game, but because he wants to be popular. He wants Allison to go out with him. This is just another way he wants to be important, and he won’t ever let go of it. He gives orders and makes calls on who gets to know what and who is worthy and won’t take responsibility for the failures, but happily takes credit for the successes. When he fucks up by not talking to people or by lying to them or making a bad call, he doesn’t admit it. He doesn’t tell anyone. He lets them think that he’s blameless so that when he actually says shit like “I lost them” someone will say “They’ll come back because you’re their leader” No. He’s not. He lost them because he pushed them away. It was his fault.

Whatever. I’m salty. *pouts* Anyway. True Alpha is dumb, and I’ve read a couple theories about how Deaton made it up, and tbh, I’d follow that logic. If you’re curious, I think I tagged it ‘true alpha’ or ‘deaton’ on my blog.

#personal #go for it #meta ramblings #anti-scott mccall #rant #much love to you sweet anon #Anonymous

[g3n3515]

A thought about the Seven Liberal Arts

(Or, I gush about science and what that means for Dandelion/Jaskier for too long)

So we know that overall Dandelion’s iterations from the games, books and whatnot have gone to Oxenfurt University to study the Liberals Arts. I thought upon seeing Dandelion’s diploma in-game and reading this, that I already knew what that was, but after reflecting on it I realized I didn’t actually know anything about them!  So if some of you didn’t know like me, the Seven Liberal Arts are  grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy.

And like, how freaking interesting. Sure, by the time Dandelion and his other adaptations were around I’d imagine Geometry, math and astronomy were not quite what they are today, but if I recall they were still considered pretty advanced subjects!

Algorithms were already invented by the Arabic people, as well as cryptography and algebra (though not as refined as it is right now due to the development of calculus and such other things). 

If Dandelion would learn them I think would depend, I don’t actually know if these reached Europe at the time (or if the circumstances of The Witcher universe might affect the creation of such things) but for some reason I’d like to think Dandelion would have learned cypher. 

  Pythagoras’s theorem were also been around for a long while and even on itself it’s one hell of a powerful tool (SO much of calculus/advanced geometry just comes from that one freaking equation it’s insane!!). Hell, someone measured the earth with great accuracy in the 3rd century BCE using only math! 

On more present discoveries, the Fibonacci sequence would have just been discovered in the 1200s. Does Dandelion learn of it, does he have an opinion?

But onto astronomy: what did we actually know at the time? A lot, actually, considering the modern telescope wasn’t invented by Galileo yet ! The earth had been found round for quite a while by now. Similarly they also knew the solar system was in a heliocentric model, but it was not used because the church wasn’t into it (something about the earth being in the center idk why they really cared man. some speculate it’s also because a lot of stuff was forgotten after the era of Hellenism, I kind of think it’s a mix of both.) Though considering the church doesn’t exist on the Continent and the Church of the Eternal Fire (who I’d argue are the in-world equivalent) don’t count me as the type to have enough power or have those kinds of value, I’d like to think they would not care about astronomy, and hence the heliocentric system wasn’t banned. All I’m amounting to is that I’d be curious to hear what Dandelion thinks the solar system looks like!

there was also a lot known about the planet’s movements (Retrogrades were well known), constellation, sky maps what have you at the time. Not to mention, everyone had been spooked by SN1054 (The Supernova that led to the Crab Nebula). Hearing the Continent’s reaction to some fuck-off “star” that was brighter than Venus showing up in the sky one spring evening would be pretty funny I bet. 

So since I do like the netflix rendition that would be quite funny to explore too. As someone who was thought some of the things listed above to a post-secondary level, I can assure you that no matter how dumb Jaskier acts he could still be well versed in everything mentioned above. There is this thing which I like to call Dumbass University Syndrome, which describes someone who can do whatever is necessary for the academic level pretty decently but besides that? Head completely empty. Dumb of Ass. (I’d like to point out I’m not calling out anyone here, as I myself have Dumbass University Syndrome)

On another note, Astronomy and such other subjects were actually oftentimes restricted to something only for high society and nobility. So on another very funny note, Witchers, who themselves are not nobles get disturbed by astronomy facts, specifically the ones you don’t notice unless you pay a lot of attention. 

So, in totality, imagine Jaskier who will walk in potential danger but somehow he’s also one hell of a clever cookie. Like, once he and Geralt were being threatened of having no coin at all. Jaskier had just scratched his chin, gone to write something down in his journal, came back and given Geralt a peice of paper with numbers scribbled on it. He told him: “Here. you follow that line. You don’t spend above that number. I follow this one.”

Follow the next week and it’s like they never even had a problem at all. Though it’s not the first time Jaskier had sat down with his travel book to write something and came up with a clever idea for once.

Geralt had came upon a pretty large ammount of herbs he needed. The Witcher is a pretty organized man but just organizing everything to stash them correctly was going to take all evening and he knew it.

In came Jaskier, who sat down with his booklet for maybe a few minutes, then sat next to Geralt and told him: “Make groups of two, side by side then combine the groups and sort them in alphabetical orders. like this. then you can organize by kinds”

It didn’t take an hour to organize the herbs.

There was also the time in which Geralt had ripped his shirt. The strip of linen he had was not long enough to repair it, until Jaskier took one look at the strip of fabric, scribbled something in his journal and showed it to Geralt. He’d drawn a rectangle tilted to ressemble a diamond shape. “What if you sew it on like that?”

it was long enough.

After a while Geralt decides to sneak a peek in Jaskier’s journal just to realize he literally can’t read anything in there because it’s all cypher (to ward off potential rivals from stealing his ideas).

Sometimes while they camp outside Jaskier will something look at the sky quietly. Then he’ll raise his hand and start comparing things to his fingers?? What was the bard doing?? He’ll note things down from time to time as well and it takes an ambarassing ammount of time for the Witcher to realize Jaskier’s observing the stars 

Sometimes when they meet after the winter he’d also talk about his opinion on the most recent solar system diagrams he read about in Oxenfurt. Geralt kind of hates it because if he was going to learn that the moon changed sizes or perhaps sometimes moved closer to them, he didn’t want to learn it from Jaskier.

Jaskier: So I told that man that that Geocentric system of his was completely moronic because How in the hell does it explain why Venus retrogrades? like what, are we just supposed to assume she likes going backwards every now and again??

Geralt, internally: What the Fuck, Venus goes backwards???

Jaskier: And what about Mercury? does he just follow Venus around for a bakward walk? And that buffoon has the galls to call himself an astronomer!

Geralt, sweating profusely: What the FUCK- 

Some day he meets Vesemir too.

Vesemir: So you know Astronomy! All right, then, heard of spring of 1054? What was up with that big glowing star that just showed up then disappeared?

Jaskier: Oh that one? we don’t actually-

Vesemir: What do you mean, you don’t know? A star dissapears maybe seventy years ago and you still don’t know why??

 lambert, who was just passing by: A STAR DISSAPEARED?

Jaksier: Yeah don’t worry about it it happens from time to times, though I’d never seen it, personally-

Vesemir: IT HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE?!

Geralt, disturbed: wait THEY CAN JUST DO THAT-

But then the very next minute the bard burns himself because of cauldron vapor because “it’s water, water can’t burn me!”. Geralt wonders, while he’s treating the bard’s burns, how the hell someone with so much academic knowledge could be so stupid.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #Jaskier #geralt of rivia

[remywrites5]

           “Hey mate, wake up!”

           Draco snarled, twisting in his bed and shoving his face more fully into the pillow. Whoever was trying to wake him was going to get covered in boils for the rest of the day. All the Slytherins knew better than to wake him before he was ready. Draco preferred to wake up in his own time. He had a very rigorous internal clock and woke up just precisely when he meant to. Waking him up early would ruin everything.

           “Come on, you said you wanted to wake up early so we could get some flying in before breakfast, remember?”

           Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn’t recall saying anything of the kind. And why did it sound like Weasley was speaking to him of all people? Draco turned his face up to see who was standing over his bed and was shocked to find everything was blurry.

           “Merlin’s beard, I can’t see!” he said in a panic, reaching his arms out in alarm, looking for something familiar. Everything looked so sodding red for some reason.

           The voice laughed and something was shoved into Draco’s hand. “Might help if you put those on, Harry.”

           Draco shoved the glasses onto his face and suddenly the world went into focus. He glanced around and realized why all he’d been able to see was red. He was in the Gryffindor dormitories instead of his own. But why on Earth had he fallen asleep here? Was it some sort of plot between Potter and Weasley? Had they hexed him?”

           Draco patted himself down and found his body was a little more filled out than normal. Had they hit him with some kind of bloating spell? He put his hands out in front of him and was surprised to find his skin had darkened. Was that part of the spell also? Strange, it almost looked like the same skin tone Potter had.

           “Did you call me Harry?” Draco asked, scowling at Weasley.

           “Uh, yeah, it’s your name innit?” Ron said with a shrug. “You feeling alright, Harry?”

           Draco wrenched himself out of the bed and hurried to the nearest door. He was relieved to find himself in the bathroom. He ran up to the mirror and Potter’s face stared back at him.

           Draco liked to imagine he would handle this sort of thing very calmly. His father had taught him to be calm and collected under pressure.

           So Draco started screaming.

                                                           ***

           Harry blinked his eyes open and was shocked to find he didn’t need his glasses in order to see. He was also a little alarmed by the amount of green in his field of vision. Sitting up, Harry looked around and saw the Slytherins all getting ready, shoving their feet into socks and shoes, tying their silver and green ties. Blaise Zabini looked over and grinned at him.

           “Oh look, sleeping beauty is up!” he teased, chucking a comb at Harry’s head. Harry managed to catch it out of sheer luck. “You sleep alright, Princess?”

           Harry glowered at him, wondering just what the bloody hell Zabini thought he was playing at. “Excuse me?”

           Blaise laughed and walked over to Harry’s bed. He put his finger under Harry’s chin and tilted it up, pressing their lips together. “Thought I might have tired you out too much last night, Draco. It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

           Harry blinked slowly as a few pieces of information slammed against the walls of his skull as if trying to escape his brain. One, Harry had just kissed Blaise Zabini. Two, Blaise seemed to think he was Draco sodding Mafloy. Three, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were supposedly “having fun” together. Harry shuddered and shoved Blaise hand away from his face.

           “Not very friendly this morning, eh?” Blaise said with a shrug as if he expected the cold reaction. “You’re always such a drama queen in the morning.”

           Harry rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes as if hoping everything would shift and the green of his duvet would be switched to red. Maybe this was just Fred and George playing a very elaborate prank on him. He really hoped so.

           When he opened his eyes everything was the same. Baise was looking at himself in a handheld mirror and Harry reached out to grab it. “Oi!” Blaise said indignantly.

           He held the mirror up to his face and the sneer of Draco Malfoy looked back at him. “Fuck!”

                                                           ***

           Draco ran down to the great hall and found his body sitting down next to Blaise, looking like a lost puppy. He would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been absolutely mortified of what Blaise had potentially done. He walked up and grabbed his own arm, which was just bloody bizarre, and dragged his own body from the Great Hall and out into the courtyard.

           He shoved himself up against the stone wall. “Let me guess - Potter?”

           “What the bloody hell have you done to my hair?” Harry asked, making a face at the nest atop Draco’s head.

           “I tried and failed to tame this fucking monster you call hair, Potter,” Draco said, blowing some of the unruly fringe off his forehead. “Honestly, how do you live like this?”

           “Me?” Harry shot back challengingly. “You’re the one who apparently goes around snogging Blaise Zabini and who knows who else! He kissed me this morning. He didn’t even ask. You two must be pretty cozy!”

           Draco scowled unhappily. Well there was that secret out of the bag then. “That’s none of your business, Potter.”

           “It’s really weird hearing that coming from my voice,” Harry said, cringing slightly. “And it rather is my business because I’m stuck in your body and that means he might just feel the need to do it again.”

           Draco worked his jaw for a moment as he tried to think. There had to be something they could do about this. Maybe if they went and saw Madame Pomfrey she could help them. She wouldn’t be very keen to help Draco but with Harry involved she could hardly say no.

           “Draco,” Harry said, interrupting his reverie. “You know what this means.”

           “No I don’t,” Draco hissed at him in a bold faced lie.

           Harry sighed. “Ron and Hermione switched bodies a few months back. So did Seamus and Dean. You’ve heard the stories. We’re –“

           “Don’t say it,” Draco snapped at him, his whole body tensing up just thinking about it. “Don’t be ridiculous. We couldn’t possibly be…”

           Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “Then what’s your brilliant explanation?” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

           Draco ripped himself away and began to pace the length of the courtyard. It was impossible. He couldn’t be Harry Potter’s soulmate. The idea was just too preposterous to comprehend. It had to be something else. Dark magic or some kind of mistake.

           “I don’t like it any more than you do,” Harry said, watching Draco pace. “It’s the only logical explanation for what’s happened to us.”

           “We go to a school for magic, Potter. There’s always another explanation.”

           “Fine,” Harry said with a shrug. “You go on looking for another explanation and I’ll just wait for tomorrow when we switch back.” Harry turned to leave and started back inside.

           Draco rushed after him and grabbed his arm. “You seem awfully calm for someone who just learned I’m his soulmate,” he said accusingly.

           Harry smirked. “So you are accepting we’re soumates then?”

           Draco frowned. “Absolutely not,” he said snippily, turning his nose up. “I’m saying if that’s the explanation you’ve accepted then why aren’t you more concerned?”

           Harry laughed and shook his head. “With everything I’ve been through this is hardly enough to surprise me.”

           Draco dropped his hand and cocked his head to the side, studying Harry in his body. “Don’t pretend like this isn’t a big deal, Potter. It’s infuriating. You’re acting as if you don’t care!”

           Harry stepped closer and Draco took a step back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, watching Harry. “Do you want me to care?”

           “I can’t have been what you were expecting.”

           Harry smiled and took his glasses off Draco’s face, breathing on them and then cleaning them on his robes. Gently, he placed them back on Draco’s face. “They’re always getting smudges, even when I don’t touch them,” Harry told him, his fingertips resting against Draco’s temples for just a bit too long. “We should get to classes. I’ll see you in Potions later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

           Harry spun around and sauntered away. Draco stared after himself in complete bafflement. Did he always walk like that or was that Harry’s influence on his body?

                                                                       ***

           Harry wondered if his talk with Draco had done more harm than good. It was clear Draco abhorred the idea of them being soulmates. And clearly he’d already been “having fun” with Zabini so perhaps he had been hoping it was someone else. Sure, Harry hadn’t expected Draco to be his soulmate but it wasn’t like he was going to be a tosser about it.

           So fate had decided they were each other’s perfect half. That was… “Just great,” Harry grumbled to himself unhappily, putting his chin in his hands. He decided he was entitled to a bit of a sulk about this. After all, his soulmate didn’t even want him. He’d been rejected by the one person who wasn’t supposed to do that!

           “Still moping I see,” Blaise said, sitting down next to Harry. “Honestly Draco, if I’d known you were going to behave this way I wouldn’t have snogged you last night. I know I’m not the Great Harry Potter but it can’t have been that bad.”

           Harry sat up straight and turned towards Zabini. “What do you mean?”

           Zabini scoffed. “Don’t play dumb, Draco, it doesn’t suit you.”

           “Is Draco – I mean – am I into Harry Potter?” Harry asked, wincing slightly at his uncouth approach.

           Zabini’s eyes widened and he looked at Harry as if he’d just said he wanted to live with Moaning Myrtle in the girl’s bathroom. “You only talk about him all the time. What’s gotten into you?”

           “Zabini, I’m partnering with Malfoy today,” Draco said, taking Zabini’s books and depositing them on the seat in front of where he was currently sitting. “Move.”

           Zabini looked about to argue, glancing between Draco and Harry. “Fine then,” he said, getting to his feet and sitting at the seat Draco had designated for him.

           “That wasn’t very nice,” Harry chided him as Draco slid into the chair beside him.

           “Well I can’t have you running your mouth, can I?” Draco hissed at him quietly. “You’ll give everything away.”

           “I’m not that stupid, Malfoy!”

           “Don’t call me Malfoy,” Draco said, staring at Harry in disbelief. “Honestly!”

           Harry glanced down sheepishly. “It was a mistake.”

           “Let’s just get through today in one piece, okay?” Draco said, opening his book.

           “Psst, Harry!”

           Draco turned around to find Weasley leaning in towards him. “What?”

           “You feeling alright?” Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. “There’s plenty of other seats if you don’t want to sit next to him.”Ron looked pointedly at Harry in Draco’s body.

           “I’m perfectly fine, thank you!” Draco scoffed, turning around and pulling his chair in to get as far away from the weasel as possible. He could feel Harry staring at him and so he glanced over. “What?”

           “Sorry about that,” Harry said contritely. “Must look strange, us sitting together.”

           “I suppose,” Draco said, glancing around the room and noticing quite a few sets of eyes staring at them. He tightened his grip on his book and elected to ignore them.

                                                           ***

           Harry was about to head down for dinner when someone grabbed him and shoved him onto a bed. “Alright then, Draco,” Blaise said, pointing his wand at Harry and whispering Incarcerous. “What’s going on?”

           “Have you lost your mind?” Harry asked, struggling against the ropes binding his arms and legs. He could only hope this wasn’t what Draco and Zabini normally did when they were “having fun.”

           “Tell me what’s going on!” Zabini yelled, continuing to point his wand at Harry. “You’ve been acting weird all day. If this is about last night then just talk to me, Draco. I thought we both knew what we were getting into. We’re at least still friends, right?”

           Harry stopped struggling and softened. He knew Draco wanted him to keep his mouth shut but he couldn’t under the circumstances. It wasn’t exactly fair to Zabini to keep him thinking he had done something wrong when he really hadn’t. They hadn’t really talked about it but Draco must have wanted to snog Blaise, right?  “I’m not Draco,” Harry told him. “I’m Harry Potter.”

           “What?” Blaise said, scratching his head in confusion. “You can’t be serious.”

           “I’m afraid so.”

           “What is this?” Blaise asked, gesturing towards Harry with his wand. “Polyjuice potion or something?”

           “No, uh, I’m pretty sure Draco and I are…soulmates.”

           “Fucking hell,” Blaise said, stumbling back. He quickly released Harry from the spell. He brought his hand up and smacked himself on the head. “All those things I said to you today! Oh shit, I kissed you as well.”

           “Yeah,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”

           “Draco’s going to kill me.”

           Harry rubbed his wrists where they had been bound tight. “He can’t be any angrier with you than he is at me.”

           Blaise snorted. “Angry with you?” he said with a knowing smirk. “I doubt it. I’m pretty sure this is the best day of his life. I mean Harry Potter is his soulmate.”

           “That’s quite enough, Blaise.”

           Draco appeared from under the invisibility cloak and Blaise screamed, backing away so quickly that he stumbled and fell on his arse. “How did you do that?”

           “Quite handy this cloak,” Draco said, smirking over at Harry.

           “You went through my stuff?” Harry said incredulously. “Why not just invade all my privacy while you’re at it!”

           Draco shrugged. “I got bored. Spending time with Weasley and Granger is so frightfully dull.”

           Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

           “Fuck,” Blaise said from the ground. “You two really have switched bodies.”

           “Very perceptive of you, Blaise,” Draco said, walking over to his bed and sitting down. “Now leave. Potter and I have things to discuss. And keep everyone else out while you’re at it.”

           “Yep, that’s definitely Draco,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “Have fun you two love birds.”

           Harry walked over and sat beside Draco on the bed. Draco wordlessly handed over the invisibility cloak and Harry tucked it under his arm. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

           “I think you’re right,” Draco said, looking down at his hands.

           “I’m sorry?” Harry said, putting his finger behind his ear. “I think I must have misheard you.”

           “Shut it, Potter,” Draco said, giving him a shove. “I spent part of my afternoon in the library looking into soulmate magic. It usually happens when one person is having a crisis of conscience and needs some clarity.”

“You think you triggered it when you kissed Zabini?”

Draco nodded. “I could barely sleep last night after Blaise left my bed.”

Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I really don’t want any details.” He already was well aware of what it felt like the kiss Zabini. He didn’t really want to hear about Draco doing the same. Especially not now that he knew Draco was his soulmate. Thinking about it made something unpleasant twist in his stomach.

Draco glanced over at Harry and sighed. “I don’t know if this makes everything more or less confusing than it was.”

           Harry reached out and took Draco’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It was beyond strange holding his own hand. “I’m not…upset that you’re my soulmate. If that helps.”

           “Really?” Draco asked, sounding skeptical. “I would have thought I would be the last one you’d want as a soulmate.”

           “Well, there’s Voldemort, Umbridge, Snape, Filch, Mrs. Norris, Nearly Headless Nick, Peeves, your father, your aunt. I can think of some worse people to get stuck with.” Harry couldn’t help grinning at Draco. He hoped in some small way he was helping Draco feel better about all this. Even if he had to tell a horrible jokes to do it.

           Draco shook his head. “You’re such a git, Potter.”

           “Apparently that’s what you’re into,” Harry teased, giving Draco’s hand a squeeze. “Since I’m your soulmate and all.”

           Draco ducked his head down to hide his smile. “Must be.”

                                                           ***

           Draco’s eyes fluttered open and was relieved to find himself staring at the face of Harry Potter. He reached out and brushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead, getting a good look at his scar for what felt like the first time. He hadn’t really paid much attention to it when he’d been in Harry’s body. He traced it with his fingertip and Harry smiled with his eyes still closed.

           “What are you doing?”

           “Enjoying not being you,” Draco quipped, getting to the end of the scar and moving his finger back up to the top to trace it again. They’d decided last night that the best course of action would be for both of them to stay the night just in case they didn’t switch their bodies back. If they woke up still as each other they would go to the infirmary first thing. It seemed like that wouldn’t be necessary anymore and that meant that they really were soulmates.

           “What’s so wrong with that, eh?” Harry asked, peeking his eyes open. “You know a lot of your comments are going to lose their bite now that I know you fancy me.”

           Draco scoffed. “I’m insulted that you think I can’t get creative with my comments.”

           Harry chuckled and scooted closer. “I think you’re going to have a lot less reasons to be rude to me,” Harry said, cupping his hand around the nape of Draco’s neck and bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. “After all, I’m your soulmate.”

           “Don’t start using that as an excuse for everything, Potter,” Draco warned, sliding his fingers through Harry’s messy hair. “It’s not a free pass for being an idiot.”

           Harry huffed in amusement and kissed Draco again. “As if I’d expect you to let me get away with anything.”

           Draco hummed happily against Harry’s lips. “Maybe some things,” he conceded if that meant Harry kissing him some more. To his surprise, Harry did kiss him again. And again. Draco found he couldn’t stop smiling and staring at Harry with his own two eyes with such reverence. “Soulmate.”

#drarry #i write things #soulmate au #long post #unprompted #writing more things that nobody asked for! #fluff #hogwarts fifth year #or at least that's kind of when I was picturing it going down #Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy

[winterromanov]

I’m not sure if you write smut or not but would you ever write about college Bucky and readers first time? I feel like it would be sweet

pairing: bucky x reader (other fics in the series - here, here and here)

It’s not that you haven’t thought about sex. You’ve actually thought about it a lot, because you’ve done dates and kissing and late night Skype-calls and in most relationships it’s the logical next step. And you do want to have sex with Bucky--you do, but there’s still a looming sort of fear that lurks beneath your skin whenever the possibility arises. Because you’ve never actually done it before.

The longer you’re with Bucky, the more the fear nags away at you. You’re scared that Bucky is going to get tired of waiting for you to be ready, even though you’ve never actually discussed it before. You’re scared that you’re never going to be ready, period. And you’re terrified he’ll find out you’re a virgin and bolt a fucking mile.

You try convincing yourself that you’re being ridiculous. Bucky is soft, and gentle, and always, always patient. He has never pressured you into anything, never would. But being Bucky Barnes’ girlfriend comes with a certain kind of expectation in the eyes of the people that surround you both that you’re not sure you can fill.

After all, you do hear the whispers that travel round every party you walk in hanging off Bucky’s arm. You know, the usual. The how can he want to bang her or I bet she’s fucking frigid just because you’re a little quiet and wouldn’t be at these gatherings if it wasn’t for Bucky.

Most of the time you manage to shake it off. Bucky’s happy so you’re happy, but you can’t help but let it eat away at you.

“So...” A cheerleader who you don’t know the name of casually comes up to you, twirling a strand of blonde hair round her finger. She’s perfect and pouty and pretty and the way she stares at you makes you instantly uncomfortable. “What’s he like in bed, then?”

You almost choke on your drink, eyes desperately searching round the room for Bucky to come rescue you. “I’m sorry?”

“Bucky Barnes,” the girl says like it’s obvious, like it’s completely okay to just walk up to someone you don’t know and ask that. “Oh, come on. You must be pretty exceptional if he’s dating someone...like you.”

Like you? Ouch. You feel your cheeks burn, wondering if there’s a quick exit option, but Bucky and Steve and Sam are all nowhere to be seen. “I’m--I’m not sure...”

“All I’m saying. Bucky could have any girl he wants and yet--”

You feel a presence sidle up beside you and the girl’s expression falters, curling into a slightly nervous smile. You know it’s Natasha immediately--she has that effect on people. One glare and they’re folding in on themselves like a reverse flat-pack wardrobe.

“Do you mind fucking off, Genevieve?” Natasha smiles sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes. Genevieve’s tongue pokes in her cheek and for a moment might argue, but very quickly thinks better of it, stalking off irritably to her posse of equally judgmental friends. 

God. You really do hate match after parties.

“Don’t pay attention to her,” Natasha says, looking at you from the rim of her wine glass. She always drinks wine out of a proper glass, even though you’ve never been to a party where actual cups are available. She probably brings her own. “They’re like a pack of rabid hyenas. Just looking for a target.”

You drag your vision over to their little corner, a girl with red hair staring at you like a human sniper rifle, ready to just fucking taking you out. “And I’m their target?”

Natasha shrugs. “Like I said, don’t pay any attention. They’ve said plenty of things about me in the past but they know I could kill them in a heartbeat. They’re just less scared to say it to your face.”

You don’t have Natasha’s razor sharp tongue or killer prowess, stalking from party to party mostly without invitation because a girl like Natasha doesn’t need one. You’re pretty sure she’s not been invited to this one, but she knows enough about everyone to secure her place. And you’re kind of grateful for it.

“Look,” Natasha pauses for a second, considering her words. “The gossip that circles around here is usually vapid bullshit, but if it’s worrying you--which it is, I can tell, don’t need to be a psych major for that--you should talk to Bucky about it. Get it off your mind. Not that I’m telling you what to do. Just...a suggestion.”

“I...” you say, finally catching his familiar frame on the other side of the room, laughing loudly with Steve. “I don’t want to worry him. Or scare him off.”

Natasha’s smile is somehow knowing. It probably is, her mind a set of tarot cards, your future just one of many she has some secret knowledge on. “Trust me, this is Bucky we’re talking about here. Whenever he looks at you it’s like that dumb heart eyes emoji, sickening fucker. And if he is scared off, which he wouldn’t be but for arguments sake--he’s really not worth it, (Y/N).”

At that second, Bucky’s gaze flickers from Steve over to you, almost instinctively. His face instantly softens, smile crooked and tender, finger beckoning you over.

“See what I mean?” Natasha murmurs, slowly backing away. “Sickening fucker.”

Your heart settles. At least for now.

-

Bucky walks you back to your dorm, as he always does. He comes up with you, like he always does. And he presses you against your door as it automatically locks behind you, kissing you senseless, like he always does. His lips taste faintly of fruit punch and his hands are warm underneath the fabric of your top, skimming the skin of your back and your stomach. And you want this, you want this, you want this, and you consider not stopping. You consider letting this pan out so you have something to fucking say when Genevieve comes up to you at another party--but to prove a point to someone you don’t know is a ridiculous reason to have sex for the first time. The fear stabs you sharply in your gut yet again and you push Bucky’s shoulders away--you don’t want this, you’re not ready.

You’re not ready.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky whispers, breaths heavy and panting. “Is something wrong?”

“I need...” Fuck it. He looks genuinely worried and it breaks your heart a little, like he’s terrified he’s hurt you, pushed you too far. You close your eyes, breathing out, spreading your hands across his still clothed chest. “Buck, I’m still a virgin.”

Bucky exhales loudly, but his face suggests that he’s not completely surprised by this. You’ve not directly discussed it, but he knows he’s your first proper boyfriend. You’ve told him that before. “You know--you know that that’s okay, right? I should’ve...I kept meaning to talk to you about it, but I didn’t know if you were ready for the conversation or not and I didn’t want to look like I was pushing you into anything.”

“No, no, I’ve not felt pressurized. I promise you. I kept meaning to say too, I was just--scared, I guess. That it would freak you out.”

Bucky grins gently, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “As if, silly. Nothing could push me away from you, got that? Especially something like that. If you wanna go further, we do it on your terms, when you’re ready for it. If that’s in a week, or months, or years, or not at all. I’ll wait for you.”

He looks at you with such simple, unadulterated adoration that your chest is fit to burst. You lean forward and kiss him tenderly, letting your foreheads press together.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper. Bucky shakes his head decidedly.

“(Y/N), if a man says anything other than that, they don’t deserve you.” He leans back, running his hands down your arms. “I think I’m gonna say goodnight. I’ll text you when I get back, okay?”

“Please.” You nod, unlocking the door. Bucky ducks out underneath your arm, giving you one last kiss round the edge of the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too, favourite gal.”

-

got home to find sam playing twister with the girl from upstairs AGAIN

little shit asked me if i wanted to join in!!

of course i said no

don’t know what fluids have been spilled do i

ewwwww you’re so gross!!! delete my number 

i’m calling the police

if anything i should be calling the police

911 my girlfriend isn’t being sympathetic enough

i would have been sympathetic if you hadn’t brought fluids into it

think of my eyes y/n

okay sending f for your eyes

you happy now

your respects have been noted

i’m SO glad

thank you for being you

though

should be thanking you

goodnight darl

-

The next month or so seems to drag hopelessly past, most of your nights spent cramming for mid-terms in the library and watching Bucky practice on the field from mostly empty bleachers. He doesn’t mention your conversation, as to his word, dutifully walking you home and wishing you goodnight. At some point it wordlessly passes between you that he can stay over, passing out in your bed with his limbs wrapped around yours, sleeping together but not sleeping together. Honestly, you’re both so exhausted from college that sleeping is all you can do while Friends re-runs loop endlessly in the background. It get’s to a point where almost every night ends and morning begins with you sharing a bed.

The closeness, the up and down motion of his chest while he breathes, isn’t scary. It’s not scary sharing a bed with Bucky--it’s good. He’s not going anywhere. He’s not running off. He’s not even waiting, really, because waiting suggests an anticipation that will end in a pay off. He’s not sleeping with you because he wants sex, but rather because he just wants to spend every moment he can with you.

That makes your thought process easier. 

You spend the evening as Bucky’s guest at a charity gala the football team are supporting, all fancy food and black tie and important people giving important speeches and large amounts of money. Bucky looks like a Hollywood moviestar in his tux and your dress is on loan from a shop in the city, but it’s long and maroon and silk with ribbons that tie it together at the back. It’s easily the fanciest thing you’ve ever worn and you wobble in your high heels, but Bucky’s mouth gapes like you’re something ethereal, unreal.

You’ve never been ethereal in your life.

You get a lift back from the venue in a cab and you can feel how palpable the electricity between the two of you is in the confined space, your fingertips just about touching on the leather of the middle seat. You’re scared if you actually touch him you won’t be able to stop. In the ballroom, his hand spread out on the bare skin of your back, his body pressed into yours as you push between crowds, his palm on your thigh underneath the dinner table. 

You want him. You want him, and this time...you’re ready. You’re ready.

The door locks behind you and you grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss that is so passionate it startles him. He doesn’t retract, though, the embrace deepening and his mouth crushing your own. You clasp onto his bowtie and urge him over to the bed, falling onto the sheets, legs curling round his waist.

“(Y/N),” he gasps while you hungrily kiss his neck, throwing the bowtie onto the floor. “(Y/N), are you sure--”

“I’m sure. I’m sure.” You say, looking him dead in the eyes. “God, I’m so fucking sure.”

You sit up so you’re face-to-face on the bed, guiding his eager fingers to where your dress knots at the back. Keeping eye contact, double and triple checking that this is all okay, he deftly unties the satin. Your dress falls away effortlessly, pooling round your hips like a bloodstain. 

“Jesus. Fuck.” Bucky says. His eyes flicker from your face to your underwear, your breasts. “Jesus. (Y/N). You’re so beautiful.”

You slowly reach out, beginning to unbutton his shirt. Breathes hitched. Heartbeats thrumming. He shudders as you undo his belt, revealing the waistband of his pants--he pushes you back gently onto the bed, dotting kisses across your collarbone and along your chest.

You’re so ready.

-

You wake to sun bleeding beneath your curtains and an empty condom wrapper on your bedside table, your dress tossed carelessly on the carpet and his trousers miraculously hung on the door handle. Bucky’s arms are wrapped firmly round your middle and you’re wearing his shirt. You smile as he feel him shift, groaning a little, finding his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck.

“’Morning,” he hums, kissing your neck. Memories from last night vividly fill your head like a kaleidoscope, the same feeling stirring in your gut.

“Good morning,” you say, reaching back to caress his jawline. “Get up to anything fun last night?”

His laugh is croaky from sleep and you can feel it in his chest. “I think the current position of my trousers could answer that question for you.”

“How did they end up there?”

“Magic.” Bucky whispers into your neck. You shudder reflexively--he does have that effect on you, after all. “You want pancakes?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

a/n: this as close to smut as i get lol

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send me a request (for this series or unrelated)

college!bucky series taglist: @jitterbuck @learisa @breatheeagainnnn @pinkisokay @lost-in-t-h-e-abyss @shawnie--jo @notatallfriendly @bbanannaa @anxiousamandapanda @forsaken-letters @bxrnsfeyson @itz-kira @mood-pancakes 

#ok so this isnt exactly smut #but smut is so hard to write well #so this is as close as im willing to get #without embarrassing myself #its fluffy though #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #college!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

[thirsty-x1]

Lesson Learned | Kim Yohan

Request(s):

can you write about yohan in an age gap story? maybe he’s picking up reader from school and he sees her with another one of her classmates whose flirting with her so he teaches her a lesson??? maybe !!

do you think you could write about yohan and reader, with a daddy/little girl dynamic ! i can’t stop thinking about the one video where he slaps his thigh telling wooseok to lay across it :0 yet he does it with his eyes too..... like that man has some dom energy in him, it drives me crazy !! i was thinking maybe they aren’t together but reader has a major crush on him because she’s so shy and submissive,, so maybe seeing him do something to assert his dominance makes her confess the fantasies???

↬  Pairing: Yohan x fem!reader.

↬  Genre: Smut.

↬  Warnings: explicit language, dom!Yohan, sub!reader, daddy/little girl dynamic, spanking, oral sex, fingering, protected sex.

↬  Word Count: 2.3k

↬  A/N: I wasn’t expecting it to turn out like this... I guess that Yohan really gets my inspiration going.

Yohan tapped on the steering wheel whilst driving to the high school, carefully observing around to find a good spot to park. He went a bit earlier, knowing that on the graduation day there would be quite a lot of people, smiling as he stared at the bouquet he had bought filling the companion seat. As he finally found a place, he sat waiting, thinking about all the years you two had been friends.

It started with you two being neighbors when younger, the memory of you running behind him begging him to show his taekwondo skills evoking a chuckle. It had been a long time since you were friends, almost as long as the amount of years that you had been into him. He knew it, of course. Maybe he tended to play dumb, but only because it was more convenient for him to do so. It’s not that he wasn’t into you, just… Not confident enough in being able to pull of the boyfriend role in your life, since he was way more comfortable with just being your best friend. Since you had never confessed to him directly, he decided to not address the situation, partly to keep your relationship the way it was whilst also to not make you feel embarrassed.

He sighed again, a little bit sad that your parents weren’t in the country to pick you up and congratulate you now, although he felt good about the fact that they trusted him enough to let you alone with him. The sound of the bell pulled him out of his thoughts, immediately grabbing the bouquet as he got off the car, waiting in front of the entrance along with some other people. His eyes finally found you, but his happy expression quickly dropped as he noticed you walking pretty close with another guy. A guy that was obviously flirting with you. The second he saw the other giving you a gift, his suspicions were confirmed, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to not throw a scoff at the action. Confessing on the last day? Really? But what annoyed him the most was seeing the shy smile on your face, eyes opening wide before giggling the same way you always did with him.

It annoyed him. Far more than what he would care to admit. It was already bad enough that the guy was trying to hit on you, but having you follow his game… He couldn’t hide the irritation in his face when you finally spotted him, your face suddenly lighting up and running towards him, although he had to admit that he was satisfied at the expression that the guy made when you left him without hesitation.

“So you came~” Yohan nearly gave in at your soft tone, but the anger was stronger.

“Yeah. Congratulations on graduating.” You were taken aback by his cold tone, and he noticed it, but he just couldn’t handle it. He gave you the flowers almost abruptly.

“Thank you, but… is everything alright?” Huh? You didn’t even react to his gift?

“We have to get going quickly. Get in the car.”

There was definitely something off in his attitude, but you couldn’t quite grasp your finger around it. You followed him, turning around to give a little wave as a goodbye to your friend before getting inside the car, furrowing your brows as you heard a little sigh beside you. The ride home consisted in you speaking about your whole day and Yohan listening while clenching his jaw, trying to pay attention to you but his mind was filled with thoughts about you and the guy from before. Since when were you two that close? Had he ever tried more with you? Why would you flirt back if you were into him? It was way too much.

As you arrived to your house, he got out, not waiting for you to invite him in. It wasn’t much like him to do so… Despite knowing each other since forever, he still acted extremely polite. Maybe it was because your parents weren’t around? You didn’t give it much thought before walking right behind him, unlocking the door and getting inside, quickly taking off your blazer and looking for a place to put the flowers he gave you. He observed you the whole time, holding back the impulse to snap at you and trying to calm down. Right when he was about to speak up, you did it first.

“I really love the flowers, they are absolutely beautiful. You always know how to make me happy~” It threw him off, softening slightly before noticing the small box that was on the table.

“Who was the guy from before? I never saw him with you.”

“Huh?” You followed his eyes and gasped when you realized what he meant. “He’s just a friend.”

“A friend that gives you gifts?”

“Yes, like you.”

The comeback was smart and had him biting his tongue, but that didn’t last long. “I know you are into me.”

You froze, giving your back to him. “What are you saying..?”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

That was it. You left the flowers without arranging them, going upstairs to your room without replying to him, hearing his pressured steps while he repeated “sorry” multiple times. He didn’t hurt you, you knew he had noticed, but did he have to talk about it in a situation like this? Using it against you? It drove you mad, as if he had somehow disrespected your feelings. You were about to close the door on his face but he was stronger, pushing through it easily.

“Fuck you.” You spat the words, his expression showing surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck you for using my feelings against me. The fuck is wrong with you?” He clenched his jaw, a mix between anger and guilt revolting his insides.

“Watch your words.”

You threw a scoff at him. “As if you did that just now.”

“Why you go around flirting with others if you like me?” His statement lacked any logic.

“Oh, sorry daddy, didn’t know I need your permission to talk with anyone that isn’t you.”

His posture changed. “What did you call me?” You didn’t answer, and he gripped your chin. “Repeat it.”

It was the first time that Yohan treated you like this. Usually he was soft, treating you lovingly as if you were nothing but a younger friend he had to look after, but right now all that gentle touch was gone.

“D-daddy…”

“Tsk, of course you would be into something like that.” He let you go, sitting on your bed and patting on his lap. You walked towards him, unsure of what he asked for. “Punishment.” The sole word sent a cold shiver down your spine, but the look in his eyes indicated he wasn’t playing around and his patience was low this time.

“Y-Yohan–”

“Do you want this? Answer yes or no. If you don’t, then I’ll leave right now.”

You hesitated for a minute before timidly laying down on his thighs, trying to lower your skirt until he swat them away, pulling up the fabric and exposing your ass, getting you flustered at the action. He caressed your skin, your heart beating faster and awaiting the first spank, but instead he went lower, rubbing your core over your underwear, chuckling at the wetness that was pooling.

“Really? I didn’t make anything yet.” He teased you, feeling how you started relaxing under his touch, whimpering when his hand suddenly impacted against one of the cheeks. “Don’t flirt with others.”

“But I didn’t–!” Another spank interrupted you.

“Don’t speak until I tell you to.” You nodded and felt another hit. “Answer with words.”

“Yes, daddy.”

He hummed approvingly and simply continued, enumerating the reasons why you deserved each one of the spanks reaching to fifteen before stopping and feeling the in-between of your legs again, smirking as he noticed how this time your juices trespassed the fabric of your panties.

“So dirty… if I knew you were going to react like this, I would have taught you a lesson earlier, I know how many times I’ve wanted to do so.” The confession made you squeeze your thighs together, and he laughed again. “What do you want to do now, baby?”

The affectionate name didn’t match his sinful actions. “C-can I suck you off?” The boner he had was pretty evident against your lower stomach, and the thought that it was punishing you what turned him on was affecting you greatly.

“So obedient all of a sudden… Get on your knees.” You followed his commands without doubting, looking up to him with innocent eyes as he placed his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open that pretty mouth for me, doll.”

He pulled out his cock out, stroking it as he looked down on you, eyes getting hazy as you did what he said. Even if he was letting out this side of him, he was still careful, noticing by your whole demeanor that this was indeed your first time. He indicated you how to do it, controlling your pace and becoming patient out of the blue. In a certain way, your innocence made him feel even more turned on. When you licked the underside of his head, you noticed how his hips bucked up, his eyes closing as his mouth let out a sigh, so you did it again, one of his hands yanking your hair as a warning but you kept at it anyway until he pulled you apart, a string of saliva connecting you with him.

“Is that how you want to play? Bed, on your back, now.” He hid his smile, seeing how you did it before taking off his shirt and hovering over your body. “Luckily you won’t be needing this uniform anymore.”

And just like that he ripped your shirt open, not caring about the buttons nor about the fabric, staring at your bra and the part of your breasts that showed above it before leaning in and placing open-mouthed kisses in the valley of your chest, sliding up and marking your neck. You could feel his hand traveling up your thigh, making your underwear aside and just when you were trying to get ready, he kissed you. His lips were incredibly soft and plump, molding against yours as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth at the same time one of his fingers entered you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He started fingering you gently, adding a second finger when he felt you were ready for it, scissoring them carefully to stretch you out. Despite the initial awkwardness, you considered sweet of him to take it slow, and this time you were the one to kiss him, tangling your hands in his hair, evoking a grunt from him as he buried his fingers completely inside of you.

“Yohan…” He let this one slide merely because of how fucked out you sounded. “I need you, please.”

How could he say no? You weren’t sure when or from where, but soon he was naked and rolling a condom on. He looked up at you once again while taking off your underwear, pulling the fabric of your skirt up before aligning against your pussy. As soon as you gave him permission, he started pushing, letting you get used to the feeling, taking the opportunity to appreciate the view. It was… strange. Out of all the scenarios he imagined that happening, this one was completely unexpected. Not that he complained, but maybe he would have liked it if it had been a little bit different.

“Is this enough?” The question took you by surprise, making you blink a few times, tears falling down your cheeks from the slight burning in your lower part. You knew what he was talking about, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“It’s more than that.” He relaxed, and the change in his appearance made you laugh. “You can move now, by the way.”

“Good, I wasn’t going to be able to hold it anymore if you kept looking at me like that.”

Yohan didn’t give you opportunity to ask what he meant as he pulled out almost completely just to enter again slowly, both hissing at the friction. You clenched down on him, and if he had any strength he would have definitely glared at you with a severe expression, but instead he increased his pace, the lewd sounds of your wetness and your moans filling the room as he fucked you roughly. His thrusts became more precise, trying to find your sweet spot, flinching when you dug your nails into his back, sharply taking in some air before whimpering his name multiple times, that being all he needed to unleash all of his strength.

“C-can I c-come?” Your plea sent shivers to all of his body, smiling despite his breathing being a complete mess.

“Of course, baby, cum for me.”

Soon he was cumming as well, your walls tightening being too much for him to take. He moaned lowly, spilling into the condom and pressing a small kiss against your lips that ended up becoming more passionate that what he intended, pulling apart before chuckling. He was careful to not hurt you as he left your insides, quickly putting on his underwear before going to the bathroom and going back with a warm towel to clean you up, his service making you laugh.

“Thank you.” He simply hummed a response before searching some clean clothes and passing them to you, already used to the pajamas you always wore. “Uh, Yohan?”

“Yes?”

“What does… all this mean?” He seemed confused before smiling, proceeding to explain everything clearly. “Oh, so you were jealous.”

“I was not–” The look you gave him was enough to make him chuckle. “Fine, maybe I was a little bit jealous.”

His arms wrapped around you as he laid down next to you, the warmth of his body making you feel drowsy as you placed your head against his chest, your butt still hurting from the previous punishment which made you remember something.

“Well, lesson learned. But next time it’s my turn.”

He laughed loudly at your words. “Yeah, sure.”

Of course I had to end it with some soft shit, this is Yohan we are talking about.

~Nani

| Masterlist |

#fuck #i don't understand how can i write him in dom mode like this when i consider him a whole ass sub #oh well #kim yohan #kim yohan scenario #kim yohan smut #kim yohan imagine #kim yohan one shot #yohan #yohan scenario #yohan smut #yohan imagine #yohan one shot #kim yohan x reader #yohan x reader #x1 #x1 kim yohan #x1 yohan #x1 smut #x1 scenario #x1 one shot #x1 imagine #kpop #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop one shot

[dystopian-penguin]

Regicide is a two-person job - Chapter one

[Has anyone asked for a mashup between an Royalty AU and a Boarding School AU? No? Well I did one anyway.

While I actually know where I’m going with this (which is rare for writers) I am not so sure if I’m gonna go anywhere with this at all (which is decidedly more common for writers). Either way, here’s an intro/sneak-peak into an idea that has been sitting in my folder for way too long.]

~~

Lena Luthor was not having a good day.

It would have been unnecessarily overdramatic to say it had cracked even her Top 10 Worst Days, but then again, the full repercussions of it hadn’t made themselves fully known yet. Although, she supposed being forced to move halfway across the globe fit the “life-changing repercussions” category, and Lena had no possible method to ever measure all of those.

It didn’t matter. She was going to endure the next two years of her life by making everyone else’s a living hell, as she had always done. Besides, she doubted her antics would make her last very long in one of the most well secured campuses in the world, and when she showed up back home in a couple of months after getting (very politely) expelled it would be her turn to laugh in Lilian’s face. And her stepmother wouldn’t even be able to fully act on her rage without tipping off any investors that the Luthors were many orders of magnitude bellow “less than perfect” as a family.

Lena stretched lazily and put her feet on the table, sparing a passing glance at the picturesque snow-covered mountain ranges passing by thousands of feet bellow her. Deciding that she needed a well-rested mind in order to face the many small battles that were sure to occur throughout the day, she picked up her phone to change to a more sleep-friendly playlist. As she muted her music to scroll through her options, she heard Lilian and Lex’s hushed tones coming from the front of the jet.

“…what my contacts say about her”.

Lilian clicked her tongue at that at that. “I hardly think a girl with that much security actually lives up to these rumors. Maybe they’re trying for a more approachable thought-the-grapevines PR strategy,” she answered.

“She does fit the ditzy dumb blonde type, doesn’t she?” Lex said.

Lilian laughed at that. The type of laughter only Lex was ever really allowed to witness. Lena continued through the motions of picking a sleeping playlist and making herself comfortable enough for a nap, feeling slightly bad for whoever was the focus on their conversation. Her brother and Lilian could be quite vicious about their business partners when they were left alone to gossip, and not exactly fully committed to facts. Not that Lena gave a fuck of course. She had stirred up quite a few nasty rumors about her peers herself when bored.

“That will certainly come in handy for the company in a few years’ time, should it be true,” her bother continued. “Although I do personally believe a rebellious youth would have been even better to our interests than an idiotic leader. Either way, Lena dearest appears to be yet one more problem for the Kryptonian Secret Service now”.

Wait, what?

Lena continued to act as if her earbuds hadn’t been muted and curled on herself as if asleep. It had been bad enough to pull her out of her previous boarding school and haul her ass across the globe overnight and without warning. Had Lilian and Lex really concocted even more unpleasant surprises for her day?

What was she thinking, of course they had.

“Oh, I am sure she will be a problem either way, no matter what the other girl really is like” Lilian dismissed. There was a pause, and Lena heard the clink of a teacup against its plate. “Might I enquire what makes you so keen on believing that particular source this time?”

“For the same reasons you picked this particular academy to exile her to, mother dear”.

Another pause, longer this time, then Lilian answered in a tone of subdued irritation.

“So, he has contacted you as well. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Oh, I can. What a stupid individual that was. But no matter, it has been dealt with,” Lex chuckled. “Unless you had any other pending business with him?”

Oh great, thought Lena. She was now once privy to the answers to what is without a doubt yet another “mysterious missing person case” that would make its rounds on Youtube conspiracy videos in a few years. If she didn’t know any better, she would think her brother planned his assassinations with the narrative of those videos already in mind.

And her family wondered why she was half-buzzed all the time.

Lilian must have made a dismissive hand gesture because Lex continued, “Good then, so we can stop these charades and discuss what we actually need to. Mother, I must admit, as much as the rest of this ordeal has been perversely well crafted, I believe sending her directly to that room might be a liability.”

“Oh please. Princess Kara might be a pretty face, but even Lena isn’t that stupid.”

Had Lena’s chair been facing them her ruse would have been over at that moment, as her eyes went wide. Just what on Earth were these two planning now? Lex’s black-market deals and criminal business practices were one thing. Every big corporation out in their happy little capitalistic dystopian society was guilty of that, no matter how much they liked to give flak to the Luthors exclusively. “That’s just good business,” as Lionel used to say.

But toying with Kryptonian royalty was way above even Lex’s repertoire, especially after their last… security breach, so to speak. Had her brother really grown as arrogant as to think he could walk in the same circles as a family thousands of years old and come out unscathed? That level of hubris spoke of Lillian’s intelligence, but her brother…

From a logical standpoint, Lena knew she would have to run into Princess Kara at some point during her (hopefully brief) stay in that blasted Royal Academy. The girl would have to be undoubtedly the hottest shit in that school, being the first in line to an empire and all. Lena also expected to be asked for some sort of report on her for Lex, so it’s not like she had exactly been planning on ignoring her existence entirely, as much as the prissy playboy types exhausted her to no end.

Okay, if Lena was being completely honest with herself, even she was curious about what the princess was really like.

She had met all kinds of celebrities and dignitaries in her short 16 years of life, but she had never met anyone from the only true royalty left in the world. And Lena knew even Lex had met the late King Zor-El only once, and as a child.

It was a silly guilty pleasure, but one that she was certain she wasn’t alone in. There was just something about the Kryptonian royalty in particular that made them seem like truly god-chosen and regal, and the whole world followed them like their own private novela. Rationally, Lena knew that “something” was, simply put, the best motherfucking public relations company in the world. One that not even the Luthors had enough money or sway to buy. She knew because they had tried. But there was still some air of magic and old-world nostalgia surrounding the very small family, and as much as it killed Lena to admit, she was as susceptible to that trap as the general public.

Even the super-rich are raised on Disney princess movies, after all.

Lena was pulled out of her reverie by Lex openly laughing and chastised herself for becoming so easily distracted at the mere mention of Princess Kara.

“Why, mother, that must have been the biggest compliment I’ve ever seen you pay her. I wasn’t referring to Lena’s dalliances, however”.

“Oh? Weren’t you?” Lilian countered with fake interest. There were more noises from the expensive porcelain set before he answered.

“Ok maybe I was a little bit,” he said bashfully, in a tone betraying just a sliver of vulnerability, like a little kid being caught with the cookie jar. A tone that Lena as a child used to think it was just for her. “But regardless,” he continued, “putting Lena in her room is simply too close. Even for whatever torture you have planned for her-“

“And here was I thinking I had made pretty obvious that sharing a room was part of her punishment,” Lilian interrupted.

Oh.

Oh, what the flying fuck?

Lena was being forced into a sharing a bedroom? Oh, that shit was low, so low. Even for Lilian.

“It is simply too close, mother” Lex repeated incisively, before Lena could focus into her seething rage any further. “She is to be there simply to observe and report, nothing else. Engaging directly with Kryptonian royalty is a risk we can’t afford to take, not with Lena of all people at the helm of the matter.”

Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Lex.

“Well I beg to differ, darling. With the level of security and scrutiny that room is subjected to, there will be absolutely nothing Lena will get past us this time.”

“And therein lies the risk, mother. The KSS simply cannot be allowed this close to Lena. It is bad enough to need a background check to just enter the grounds of the damn school.”

“I admit the KSS might be a bit of an… overkill to our problem-”

“To your problem. I could not care less what Lena gets herself into, and especially not in such an easily bribable school.”

Lena heard Lilian open her mouth as to reply, but what followed were a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, Lex. Don’t tell me this is about you trying to protect her?” she finally said.

There was a muted silence, and Lena tried to keep her heart in a normal rhythm. Lex hadn’t really given much of a fuck about her for a few years now, there was no use getting her hopes up that he had ever been the brother he acted like when they were kids.

“Yes,” he answered more curtly than he usually was with his mother. Lilian must have had a similar expression of utter disbelief as Lena, because Lex felt the need to continue. “There are… details of this that you are not aware of, mother, no matter how much you believe to have bribed that man. But a private jet, of all places, is not the right setting for this discussion, yes?”

There were more clinks that sounded way rougher than their expensive 17th century porcelain should be handled like, and Lena was suddenly reminded of her brother’s secret (and completely pathetic, considering the family’s business) fear of planes. She wished she could say her heart didn’t feel a bit tighter with that knowledge resurfacing in her brain, but Lena was quite pathetic herself. Especially when she came to Lex.

Her brother’s expression must have put an end to the discussion, because Lena waited completely still for a long time but there had been no more words from either of them. But that suited her just the same. Deciding to give her fury towards Lillian proper attention on a later time, she decided to focus on the major bits of information she was able to acquire. Whatever it was this family had been planning to put her through this time, at least now she had an inkling of what it was. And a name. And with that name came a lead, and the very rare possibility of actually preparing herself psychologically to one of Lilian’s sadistic decisions over her life. Lena checked the time on her phone and found out she had roughly three hours for that. Four, if she counted the car ride between the private airstrip and the school.

She would need to google the shit out of Kara Zor-El.

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #doesnt feel exactly right to tag kara just yet lol #fic #my writting

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reboot Reviews: The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!

Fenton faces some of his greatest challenges yet: Gizmoduck’s soaring popularity and the possiblity of amour...  oh and the return of his arch enemy but that’s a standard tuesday for a superhero. It’s a Date, don’t let him trick you noooo, under the cut. 

I have to admit something first: I WAS going to cover the other two fentoncentric episodes before I got to this one, as a build up to this weekends episode. The problem though was I realized that this week’s episode is, via word of god, going to cover WHY Gyro hates Fenton , and thus I really can’t dig into Gyro’s behavior in both eps, especially Who Is Gizmoduck? where despite his rational fears of having funding cut, he’s still an uttershithead to fenton and I feel it’d be better served if I waited a little and did the ep sometime after saturday.  So with that bit of expostion you probably didn’t need out of the way: Dangerous Chemistry! This one is a personal faviorite of mine, to the point that when I was bored a week or two ago I watched this one just for fun, and probably will again. That’s not why i’m reviewing it: even if I hadn’t I would rewatch it and planned to for the ones I was going to review, it’s just dumb luck. And part of that is Fenton is one of my faviortes: Lin Manuel Miranda really brings his a game to the character, and the crew really fleshed him out, making him a really likeable, fun, and relatable awkward dork. Another reason is one that should be obvious if you saw my comics reviews when I in vain tried to review each dawn of x comic on a weekly basis before throwing up my hands at the sheer volume: I fucking love super heroes, and Who is Gizmoduck and this very episode are very good superhero stories that still fit well into the ducktales universe, as is the darkwing debut “The Duck Knight Returns!”. And finally the episode also has Huey in a major role and I love my red boy. So with all that stuff out of the way I can dive into the ep itself.  This one, as you probably know but I do like me my context, takes place in the second half of season. While Fenton did show up earlier for fellow instant classic “The 87 Cent Solution!”, he’s otherwise been absent this season. My honest theroy is, rather than Lin being busy, which while he sure as hell is he still squeezes the show in, it’s more a simple fact that season 2 is pretty damn stuffed: looking back at the episode count almost EVERY ONE ties into one of the major arcs of the season (Della’s journey home/struggle to fit into her kids life/ the moonvasion, glomgold’s bet with scrooge and louie inc), and those that don’t either bring in major new characters like the Cablleros or Drake, or touch on previous arcs: Last Christmas! touching on Dewey missing his mom while she’s still missing. Lena’s episodes bringing her back to the world of the living/introducing her sister, and then resolving her fear of magica for now and revealing where Magica’s been, and this ep checking in on fenton. There was just a LOT to do and get through, and Gandra was really the only time sesntive thing Fenton wise they had to absolutley do this season. So while it sucks, I do understand why they did it this way,  I do see why and hold no ill will over it.  And to the crew’s credit they used the fact Fenton had been absent cleverly and had a valid reason why we hadn’t seen him outside of one breif apperance: he’s busy. Simple as that. He’s been superheroing all this time: when we catch up with him he’s outright called burnt out by a c-list weather villian who looks like dr.doofnschmritz but lacks his awkward charm. He even uses the same pun twice. It’s also logical: his literal JOB is to be a superhero, it’s what he’s paid for, and given Duckberg seems ground zero for lunatics, it’s only natural ther’es a bakers dozens with techno gimmicks and costumes floating around trying to beat him up. He’s naturally exausted and i’ts made worse by two factors: His alter ego being all over the news, so even when h’es off work he can’t escape work, and being unable to do science.  And both are clever delimas: a lot of the usual superhero issues are non existant for fenton: while he’s bad at hiding his identity, the only person he really has to hide from is his mom, who we later learn at the end of the season already knows and has come around to it. His job isn’t in remote jeapordy because Gizmoduck IS the job, while he still has full acess to a lab to do the science work he’s always wanted. But he’s starting to see the price for doing the right thing: He’s spent so much time as Gizmoduck.. Fenton has nothing of his own. No time to do science, only two friends, and as a result is exausted and burnt out and yearning for a break.  So thankfully he’s taking one, and in another use of “time has moved on a bit because we didn’t have time for Fenton this season” he and Huey have gone from superhero and biggest fan to best friends. But I let it slide, partly because again the season is overstuffed dand i’ll likelky delve into that more when I get to this seasons arcs at some point, and mainly beause the two have a great dynamic: Huey is supportive, just wants his friend to be okay, and meshes with fenton perfectly: Their both big nerds who people tend ot ignore who get overly excited about science. But Hueys more openly confident while Fenton clearly lacks it at times. It’s a nice eb and flow I hope to see more of. 

HE and Huey are hanging out to do science and stuff, with webby tagging along because why not, and I absolutly love the gag of gizmoduck passing by, Webby not noticing at all and only finding out Fenton and Gizmoduck are the same person because Huey makes a rather big deal abotu the fact Gizmoduck just passed by and Webby is really smart and likes solving shit.  So we quickly get the rest of our setup: At the elctronics store, Fenton has a meet cute (which the juinor woodchuck guidebook of course has an entry on. ) with Gandra Dee, played by guest acress Jameela Jamil, better known from the good place and being the only one to point out “hey emil hirsch beat the shit out of the woman what the fuck” when quinten Tarantino cast him in the otherwise amazing film “Once Upon a Time In Hollywood”, who does a great job here. The two have some romantic tension as she calls fenton a suit and what not, he fires back he is good at sceincing and they schedule what may or may not be a date... with Fenton unaware that Gandra is a spy hired by mark beaks to get the gizmoduck passowrd and use her nanites merged with gizmotech to boost his strength. As you do.  The resulting episode is really damn good: Starting in the obvious place, Fenton and Gandra have a reall good dynamic: besides the obvious oppsoites attract thing: the modernized nerutoic nerd and the rebllious scientest there’s the nice contrast in who they work for: Sure Fenton works for a billionare who DOES use some of his and gyro’s work for fairly self serving things (and I didn't realize the universal solvant was a rosa thing first time around, I learned it between viewings, but it’s a nice mythology gag), but it’s been shown as far back as the pilot that’s he’s more than willing ot help all of duckberg, even if it makes a profit. WHy WOULD he stop gyro or fenton’s research for any reason? He funnels a ton of money into them simply beause he knows for every dozen failures something useful will come out of it and at most simply wants more treasure hunting gear, stuff both can whip up easily and for Fenton to spend most of his time as defender of the city, something Fenton wanted anyway. He’s a good boss... while the billionares Gandra’s working with, Bradford as we learned later and beaks in this episode.. are self serving scumbags who only want innovation for world domination and personal validation. By refusing to have ties with or trust anybody or put in the legwork to find an employer who would give her mostly freedom, she wants complete freedomf or her work in exchange for taking money from truly awful people. She’s no freer than fenton is and her hypcoricy is obvious, without making the character terrible in any way. As the kingpin once said in spiderman the animated series “the best strings are invisble”. While Gandra is well aware of who she’s working for she refuses to see the irony or the possible harm in her actions , and it’ll be intresting to see where her charcter goes from ehre.  As for Beaks, he’s a FAR better threat here than in the past episodes: I didn’t MIND him being a joke villian, though I was horribly disapointed, and he will likely be super dated eventually... but here it finds a nice ballance: While he’s still a whiny manchild, the breaking into the lab sequence is utterly delightful and shows that he’s NOT harmless. He’s at his best, like glomgold, when he’s either off to the side comedic relief, or a mixture of genuinely threatining and utterly moronic. His drinking 80 pounds of senstive chemicals turns him into the hulk and the resulting fight scnees are great, as is his confusion upon taking huey and webby hostage “I have your kids.. I think.. I don’t know how this family works” and his cries of “whose the looser now coach dad” are both funny and offerd our first peak into why he’s so screwed up. And his defeat while rediculous is clever, using his love of fame and his phone against him. Overall a much better showing than the past that so far has kept up into season 3: even if his plan backfired there and was for goofy reasons, it was here too, it only fell apart because he hired someone who hated him and underestiamated how much he’d pissed off graves last time. 

As for Fenton himself, the episod eis a great showcase, besides the before issues his manuvering around both the obvious date the kids set up for him (more on that in a second), and his genuine chemsitry and contrast with gandra are a delight.. as his his dad’s lesuire suit. On top of that the scenes wher ehe chews gandra out are a great bit of acting from Lin manuel Miranda, the hurt and fury in his voice coming through great.  To finish it out Huey is a delight this episode, showing himself to be a suprisingly good romantic for his age, serously violet won the lottery with this one, and while overenthsastic, i’ts still sweet and his friendship with fenton is genuinely heartwarming, as is what has to be the best line of the episode besides the beaks one above Huey: Fenton’s going to be devistated! Webby: (Annoyed) Or kidnapped by spies! Huey: (Dead serious) TWO BAD THINGS COULD HAPPENS! It’s a sweet dyanmic overall and the cherry on top of an utterly fantastic episode. Hopefully the momentum keeps up going into saturday. Until then, later days. Speaking of which.. WHY ISN’T THE WEEKENDERS ON DISNEY PLUS. God I shouldn’t be able to keep thinking of shows that are missing. Anyways, once again later days.  P.S. I almost forgot Launchpads great bit listing off all his exes and confriming that he’s probably bi. It was great. 

#ducktales #ducktales reboot reviews #the dangerous chemistry of gandra dee #lin manuel miranda #disney #gizmoduck #Fenton Crackshell Cabrera #huey duck #webby vanderquack #mark beaks #josh brenner #jameela jamil #gandra dee