#If you haven’t seen the photos go check them out they’re so pretty

[bonebrokebuddy]

A TROPE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE EXPLORED MORE: 

I’ve seen many fics where it hits the general story beats of: Danny gets approached by Gotham citizens. They talk to him like they know Danny but he has never seen these people before in his life. Eventually he finds out that people are mistaking him for a batkid. Eventually the look-alikes meet and they share stories of how they got confused for each other and wanted to meet the other to see who they kept getting confused for. 

I’ve seen authors do this mainly with Gotham citizens or a member of the batfamily mistaking Danny for a member of the batfamily. 

But I haven’t seen many examples of the reverse. An Amity Park citizen approaching a batkid thinking that they are Danny. 

Imagine the possibilities. The many hcs about creepy Amity Park would mesh perfectly with this. The batkids would be massively confused and be very concerned because like,

What the fuck is wrong with these weird people who keep approaching him and asking when his parent’s wrist rays are going to go back in stock because their old one broke? Who is this “Danny” guy and why do they look enough alike for them to be mistaken for the other multiple times in one day? What the fuck is wrong with the town these guys are coming from because when they are background checked they’ve all came from this small town in Illinois? And why do these people keep thinking he’s been possessed by ghost then pull weird sci-fi looking guns out of nowhere and fire at him with weird green goo when they say they’re not Danny? 

Ways this prompt could work in many different ways for different batkids with  the above scenario (but if you write something about Amity Park members mistaking a batkid for Danny, please tag me i would love to read it):

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DAMIAN

Initially, the Amity Park citizen thought that Danny was doing his “spooky eye” thing but then after the kid said he wasn’t Danny, they realized it was a sign of possession. Damian isn’t possessed; he just has green eyes. 

ANOTHER ROUTE:

Damian thinks that one of his clones has escaped the league of assassins and now is living a normal life in Amity. Seeking to get rid of the weaker clone, Damian goes to Amity to kill Danny. They fight but Danny tries to talk it out and eventually, after nearly being murdered in his bed multiple nights in a row, consents to DNA testing. The best part? Because Danny canonically has fucked up dna due to that “his molecules got all rearranged” so, for this, it means that Danny’s DNA is so fucked up when trying to do any testing on it, that it’s essentially unreadable. So they are never able to actually finally disprove that Danny isn’t related to Damian (who is paranoid that the birth certificates and baby photos of Danny could be elaborately faked by the league of assassins because they cannot biologically disprove that they are not related but jokes on him, they’re not actually related. They just look alike).

——————

TIM

Tim notes the name Amity Park and once he gets back to the batcave, he begins his research. And is then immediately concerned at the blatant digital non-existence up of the entire town. There are some news reports, a town website, articles about places to visit and restaurants to eat at. But that's it. Just articles and official websites that are oddly blank. He can find no social media posts or blogs or any online activity at all from people inside Amity Park. No tweets with the location set to Amity, no youtube channels, no school email addresses, no nothing from people within Amity. 

Just complete digital silence. 

Whoever was responsible was doing a pretty shitty job at hiding that they were covering up something big. And all it took was a VPN with the location set in Amity with Justice League clearance and he was in.

Amateurs.

Tim sat back as the batcomputer began compiling and sorting the previously hidden information. Five minutes into the scan, a popup appeared with the first set of interesting things about Amity. The most notable was that the town has been being attacked by monsters they called “ghosts” for over 5 years now. The second was that there was an previously undocumented organization that claimed to be government funded but with further research, it wasn’t clear which government as a little digging revealed the money to be sourced from multiple of them. The third was the Dr.s Fenton research. Research seemed to have changed from the belief that ghosts were non-sentient forms of energy fueled by their last emotions alive to the current perception of ghosts not only being sentient but there being countless and very intriguing research papers on the history, governments, and cultures from a variety of ghost societies.

The fourth popup was the surface level information on Danny Fenton. As the batcomputer would need more time to find more information. And holy shit. The guy did look like him. Well, almost. In the most recent photo that Danny posted with his friends, Tim could clearly see that there were a few differences. Namely, his build. Fenton was visibly more muscular with broader shoulders and a few inches taller. But scrolling back through the images, he found one from before Danny got his apparent growth spurt and they looked nearly identical. Sure Tim had a slightly different jawline, different eye shape with the color a different shade of blue. But Danny looked like if someone tried to draw Tim from memory. It was uncanny. But there was much larger things to worry about as a new chime from the batcomputer brought his attention and to his shock, he already had access to the ghost investigation ward’s database. There is no way that the batcomputer's program automatic searching for firewall weakness actually worked on a government clearance server. But probing around in the server, it became quickly apparent that it wasn’t easily accessible false information to give to people so they  think they’ve achieved their goal. No, the automatic system actually worked and someone had left a convenient backdoor to the server that gave him access through an “Agent K’s” clearance.

There was so much data available that it quickly became clear to Tim that it would take a while to sort through it all. Glancing over the different files, Tim froze and clicked on a file labeled “Fenton-Lazarus-Agreement.pdf”. It took a while to read as the scanned contract was so compressed that it was nearly illegible. This “Ghost Investigation Ward” was planning on performing experiments combining Lazarus Water with a substance only referred to as “purified ectoplasm” to see how it affected ghosts, humans, and to see how it could be integrated into weapons that could equally affect both. Horrified, Tim began to comb through as much information as he could find. But while Agent K had clearance to know about the upcoming plans for these tests, they did not have access to any other communication about it. So, with no other easily exploitable trapdoor, Tim set to work sorting through encrypted and classified information. 

No shit whoever it was left the obvious backdoor, he would too after how damn long it took to unencrypt the damn messages, it was almost inhuman how difficult it was. He had to meet the guy who hacked into the organization first. Because whoever it was, had his undying respect and he just wished that the dude got access to the rest of the database because if they were hiding it this well, it must be something really bad.

Several hours later, the lights of the batcave have long since automatically shut off. The light from the batcomputer being the only source of illumination still on, casting harsh dramatic shadows across the billions of dollars worth of equipment and trophies around him. While Tim knew he shouldn’t be down here this late because the light will disturb the natural sleep cycle of the bats within it, right now he did not care. But Tim’s attention wasn’t focused on the familiarly creepy atmosphere of the cave or the sound of the unnaturally active bats. His eyes, now red and dry from straining for hours looking at the bright light were focused on the records of communications between the Al Ghul’s glaring down at him from the screen. The unencrypted emails detailed an agreement for the exchange of “Fenton Works weapons and gadgets” in return for Lazarus water. Tim reread the emails again and again. Fenton Works. He knew that something was up. From what he recalled from the guy who shot green goo at him earlier that day, they mentioned something about “wrist rays” available for purchase by the Fentons. Guess his doppelganger was more involved in Tim’s life than he previously thought. .

After spending many days researching and compiling information, Tim was able to send a full, cohesive report to Bruce first, then the Justice League as further investigation of goings-on in the Ghost Investigation Ward and Amity Park revealed that there was much more being covered up than just the ghosts and the connection to the League of Assassins in the little midwestern town. 

Tim was able to convince Bruce to let him be apart of the scouting and information gathering team when the League was cleared to investigate Amity Park. He really wanted to find the guy who was able to hack into the Ghost Investigation Ward’s security, get some Fenton Works tech incase ghost attacks ever occurred in Gotham, and to maybe meet this Danny guy and see if he can ask him if there is a way to get ectoplasm out of clothing because the last Amity Park guy who thought he was processed got a shot in and the ectoplasm stain wont come out of his favorite shirt.

--------

Jason

This wasn’t Jason’s first encounter with an Amity citizen, but this was the first time they landed a shot in and it hurt. The middle aged black man stood in front of Jason with his gun still raised. The man wore a light blue work polo with tan pants. The shirt was embroidered with a company logo of an “Axion Labs” in white followed by the attacker’s name, Damon Gray, embroidered in black.  

Barely having any time to recover from the shot, the Gray continued his barrage of fire and yelled, “GET OUT OF DANNY YOU GHOST!” Jason narrowly dodged the rays coming at him of the weird toxic green energy that was so bright it almost flickered out of human perception. So Jason did the reasonable thing and ran. He needed to escape the barrage of bullets and couldn’t fight back in his civilian gear. Dodging into a nearby alleyway to escape the blasts, Jason jumped up in the nearby fire escape and hastily began to climb. Pain erupted from his shoulder as he looked down and saw Gray with surprising amounts of dexterity and mobility for a man around 50, easily hop up on the fire escape and continued to fire. And so the chase continued. The guy was a surprisingly good shot, as evident from the stinging pain in his back and shoulder and it was a relief when finally Jason was able to loose the attacker. But by the time he donned his red hood gear, the asshole was gone. 

Unbeknownst to Jason, Damon Grey had hurriedly changed course as he realized that if he missed the meeting he flew over 800 miles to get to, his boss would kill him regardless if it was to stop a possession or not. On the train, he opened up his Amity Alert App and reported the possession and location to let the rest of the town to keep a lookout for Danny and excuse any actions he may make until the ghost is removed.

800 miles away, three alerts rung off from three phones, one with a galaxy case, one in a purple case, and one in an absolute brick of a case that looked like it would survive a nuclear blast before it let the phone inside break. Tucker looked up from his computer and went to turn the alert off before he paused. Looked back the notification then over his shoulder where Danny sat at assembling a Fenton Works device (Danny seriously regrets letting Tucker set up that online shop because now his days are mostly filled with helping keep up with the backlog of orders. His parents’ age are gaining on them and they don’t have the ability to constantly be making inventions like they used to. So, Danny does his best to help out.) with Sam working on a different order next to him. Both of them haven already turned their respective phone’s alerts off.  

“Hey Danny”, Tucker called out, making Danny pause from his current task of assembling a Fenton Lipstick Blaster and turn his head to look at Tucker,

“Yeah dude?” 

Holding his phone close to his face and clearly enunciating to emphasize the message, Tucker began to read, “Are you aware that at 12:43pm today you were spotted being processed in Gotham by Valerie’s Dad?” Tucker lowered his phone and looked back up at Danny who had fully put down his tools and reached for his own phone.

“Didn’t you say that El was visiting Spain right now?”

“Yeah, she sent me a photo of a seagull stealing someone’s hat from there, like, two hours ago.” Tucker could see Danny tapping around on his phone, presumably opening his conversation with Dani.

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed and he paused looking at his screen. “No, she definitely wouldn’t have been able to travel back to the US by now unless she found a natural portal or called Wulf. But I’m going to text her again really quick just to make sure.” 

Tucker got up and walked over to where the ghost boy and Sam sat at the workbench. Then they waited. A few moments later, the typing indicator’s dots popped up and a new message appeared.

It read, “Nope! I’m still in Spain? I saw the alert, are you okay?”

After typing a response, Danny laid his phone down on the cluttered workbench rubbed his face in his hands and turned to face Sam and Tucker.

“What the fuck do we do now?”

#dp x dc #dc comics #batman #danny phantom #jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #writing prompt #dp x dc prompt #who am i kidding this is basically the outline of a fic #you can tell that as i went on i just kept getting ideas and it just kept getting more and more eborate #this was meant to be 200 words tops #this is now 2.4k #my bad im awful at keeping stuff short and not shoving weird bits of worldbuilding and story detail into things #my bad #im awful at keeping these short and keep adding random bits of worldbuilding and technicalities and story detail i #into what is meant to be just prompts to get the idea out there #and now i have around 10k of unfinished story ideas and fairly elaborate worldbuilding about fawcett city that i have been working on #for maybe about a month or so and i keep just adding things to it #and most of it i still need to transfer into writing because the ideas are for the fawcett city stuff is mainly stored in audio notes #and i need to write them out and make them less of vague ideas #and i just know that is going to take me ages #the worst part is i have to post my original founding idea of where most of my other ideas for fawcett stem from #and so the adding on ideas dont make as much sense if i dont have the main thing posted already #so i have tons of halfwritten things for fawcett city worldbuilding and how to make it super memorable and have golden age comic logic #be essentially integrated into the very founding of Fawcett #but i keep having new ideas so i dont work on that one but i also really want to get it done because im very proud of it but ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh #anyways #thats all for now #hope you enjoyed the prompts

[chimivx]

yellow. (5)

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (ot7)

summary: It's finally happened, you're living your dream. You've landed the job of your wildest fantasies, doing it beside someone who means a hell of a lot to you. It's only been a few months, but it's been pretty easy to settle into this way of life- the constant on the go, the always working, the barely sleeping. Your relationship has been flourishing as well, you and Yoongi working together better than ever... It seems, until now.

words: 6k

warnings: none for this part, still 18+ for nsfw occasional themes, if i missed anything please let me know!

a/n: I have been meaning to post this for a while. It's finally here! Another addition to Yellow, my beloved. Enjoy!! x <3

~ sometime in january, 2016 ~

Adjusting your hair, pulling it back tighter to keep it out of your face, you slap a hand on one of the sheets of photo paper in front of you, furrowing your brows. Giving the men around you a cold glance, you pull your legs up into the folding chair and laugh in distaste, a sound that has half of them writhing in discomfort, afraid they’ve struck a nerve.

“If… If we can’t work something out, we’re going to have to move on from the concept,” a man with straight dark hair says with caution. Flickering your eyes over to him, you frown.

“Move on from the concept? I’m the best one you’ve got,” you spat, “I mean, are you kidding?” Reaching over your knees you fumble with a couple of the sheets, holding one up for the group around you to see.

“Choi’s concept is…” the man directed his attention back and forth from the sheet you held up, to you. As his voice trails off, you shake the photo, rolling your eyes.

“Predictable?” you offer, raising your brows, “Conventional? Ordinary? Done before?”

“Well, I- I- I mean…”

“You- You- You mean, what?” you don’t mean to tease, in fact that’s the last thing you wanted to do to these men, but this wasn’t the first time they turned down your work.

Just because you were a twenty-two year old female sitting in front of them, dressed in your boyfriend's hoodie with your hair twisted into a knot, didn’t give them the right to set you aside like they did with most women.

“We’ve been working with Choi for a long time, he’s the best in the business, we can’t exactly drop him from the project.” Without a change to his expression, the man sits forward, placing his elbows on the table that separated you.

The door to the conference room swings open and slams shut behind whoever walked in, catching the attention of some of the men surrounding you. You remain laser focused, determined to win this time.

“I’m not asking you to drop Choi, I love the dude, but look at my sketches compared to whatever the hell he’s scrambled together.” Shuffling the papers around, you place two of them side by side so the man can do a comparison, narrowing his eyes as he studies the photographs.

“Hey, Suga,” is mumbled from a few of the guys beside and behind you, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

The man across from you takes a peek at the commotion, checking Yoongi out, who you haven’t seen yet, then finds you haven’t moved. You’re still attentive, game face on, ready to pounce.

“These are…” the man speaks slowly, gesturing to your photos with a hopeful nod of his head, “Great.”

Sighing heavily, groaning audibly, you say, “Great? They’re more than great, they’re better than Choi wanting them to dance in a ring of fire! Looking like a bunch of satanists…”

“Satanists?” Yoongi says with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders that you shrug away in an instant. You still haven’t turned to greet him. Pulling back, he narrows his eyes, stepping to the side of your chair.

“Hello, Mr. Min,” the man says with a subtle smile.

“Mr. Bang Si-Hyuk,” Yoongi says, totally flat, coming across as sarcastic as anything. He touches your shoulder with a finger, dragging it down your arm that was stretched out on the table. “Hi,” his voice is gentle when he speaks to you.

“Hi,” you answer, not as kindly, keeping your eyes pointed on your ‘boss’. Yoongi shifts his gaze to the photos littering the table and smiles.

“It’s insanity, right? Incredible,” he looks at Bang in disbelief, “She listens to the song once, and comes up with… all of this.” 

“It’s… something,” Bang widens his eyes for half of a second. Turning your hand into a fist, you slam it on the table, the aftershock shaking the glasses and pens that were scattered about.

“It’s everything BTS is,” you defend, cocking your head to the side, “You have to keep this storyline going, you cannot have this one video be out of place, do you see the way Army theorizes everything?” Yoongi’s gaze is locked onto you, watching in awe as you speak with a passion he’s only seen in private. “You use Choi’s concept, the entire thing goes out of whack, you hear me?”

“What’s his concept?” Yoongi asks, shifting his glance from you to his boss. Waving his question away with your hand, you ignore him and enhance your glare to Bang.

“Fire isn’t a part of the timeline,” the old man presses his lips into a thin line and sighs, debunking your proposal. Gulping, you feel your hands clam up.

“Does it matter?” you question.

“You just said it does,” Bang says, making you sigh.

“I think she means-” Yoongi begins, but doesn’t get the chance to finish before you’re firing back at Bang.

“The story, the theme, whatever! It’s critical to stay on point with these kinds of things, Army cares. I promise you,” you’re starting to speak with your hands, feeling the anger boil up within you, “They’re gonna talk about it, discuss it more, give it attention.”

“She’s right, and if-”

“Can you please, just go,” you snap, whipping your head to the right to finally look up at Yoongi and his mint green hair. His lips part as if to say something. Instead, he closes them firmly, pouts them, nods once averting his eyes from your own, and sees himself out of the conference room with a frustrated sigh.

Once the door is shut, and it’s just you and the ominous group of men that never failed to rattle your bones, Bang chuckles, toying with the corners of the photo paper. Raising an eyebrow to question him, he bobs his head.

“Trouble in paradise?” he teases, which felt incredibly odd considering he was the man who made you sign the NDA months ago. 

Narrowing your eyes, you respond with confidence, “The state in which my paradise resides is of no concern to you. I’m here to discuss you taking on my concept for Fire. It’s completely original, it screams Bangtan, and it keeps your seven sexy little dancing boys relevant,” Bang eyes you curiously, making you smirk, “Take it, or flop.”

Pushing the heavy doors to the conference room open with haste, you leave the team behind, stepping out into the hallway. Leaning on the wall opposite the doors with his arms folded stood Yoongi, waiting patiently for the meeting to be over. As soon as the doors swung open he looked at you with wide, nervous eyes.

Clamping your folders of photos and sketches under your arm, you hold up your other hand in front of him. Pushing off the wall with his foot, Yoongi hesitates, but then slaps your hand in a high five before the two of you break out into smiles. Tangling your fingers together, the two of you start down the long hall for the elevator at the end.

“Guess it worked?” Yoongi asks, gazing at you as you walk.

“It worked,” you say, defeated, “The man cares more about our relationship than my art,” you roll your eyes, “But, distracting him and acting like a bitch was enough to make him believe that I can do this.” 

Coming to a pause in front of the silver metal doors, Yoongi keeps quiet as team members pass by, giving you a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, dragging your thumb over the back of his hand. Shrugging to tell you he was fine, Yoongi winces, breaking the hold he has on your fingers to grip his left shoulder.

“My god,” he mutters, rolling it slowly a couple of times. Watching him work out the kink, you press the button on the wall to call the elevator, and shake your head.

“You’re working too hard,” you say softly, with a small smile. Yoongi tries to smile back, but groans in pain, tightening his grip on himself. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, nudging you into the opening elevator doors with his elbow. 

Stepping in backward, you keep your gaze on your boyfriend with worry. As the doors closed, the two of you leaned on the wall opposite of them after Yoongi pressed the floor for the studio’s. Taking his place beside you, your eyes take in his bare face that was focused on the changing floor numbers, and drag them down to his left shoulder covered by his t-shirt.

“Staring at it is not going to do anything,” Yoongi laughs, focused forward.

“I know,” you say quietly, lowering your brows in question, “D, it’s always this shoulder, maybe you should get it checked out.” Watching him gulp, and completely avoid your comment, he turns to you and presses a swift kiss to your lips, smiling when he pulls away.

“Been waiting all day to do that,” he whispers, “Ever since you started working, it’s like I can’t catch a moment with you.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you smize, “Home schedule is busier than a tour schedule… And I don’t know if I’d call this working.” Seeing you frown, he copies you.

“What’s been going on, I’ve been seeing this look for a few days now,” he says, “Do I need to talk to Si-Hyuk, because I will.”

Laughing under your breath you glance up to the numbers that beeped with each change, shaking your head. Yoongi’s frown deepens, his eyebrows turning inward.

“You shouldn’t have to,” you mumble, feeling a tad defeated, “For once in my life I know what I’m talking about, I know what I’m doing… and none of them take me seriously,” looking over to him, his anger fueled gaze makes you pout, “They only want to listen when it comes to you.”

“That’s really unfair,” Yoongi says. Glancing to his lips momentarily, you take a deep breath.

“I expected it,” you admit to his surprise, “I know,” you chuckle when his eyes widen, “I’m a female in the music industry, we never have it easy.”

“I should stay out of… everything,” Yoongi says, nodding his head, “No more coming to meetings, no more scripted midway entrances.”

The elevator doors push open to a floor that is bustling with life.  Music can be heard from some of the rooms already, Yoongi gripping your hand and ushering you out of the metal box when a certain tune is recognizable.

“You don’t have to stay out of it,” you mumble, clinging to his side, “Just… Take a step back, maybe.”

Yoongi comes to an abrupt stop, nearly taking out a man carrying a couple of books. Pushing you toward the wall, he brings his face closer to yours, pecking the tip of your nose with a gentle kiss.

His voice is soft, yet directed with a strictness as he says, “First of all, anything for you. I’ll do anything you say.”

Popping your brows you whisper, “Well, I know that,” and flicker your eyes to his lips.

“Stop,” he smirks, “I’m about to go dance, don't do that to me, I’m already late.”

With a fake pout, poking out your bottom lip, your eyes travel to his shoulder that your fingers started to caress.

“Second of all,” Yoongi drops his tone lower, “Don’t let the old men in our company get to you. I heard JYP is poking around the industry, dying to discover who the ‘ghost director’ of Run is.”

Your lips part as a warmth erupts in your heart. A small, comforting feeling that mixes with a proudness for your work. JYP Entertainment was a huge company, responsible for some big names in the K-Pop world. Sure it’s only been a couple of months since you’ve gotten acquainted with this side of life, but being immersed in it nearly 24/7 made it easy to catch up.

Yoongi smiles, “JYP,” He repeats.

“They just debuted an adorable little girl group,” you whisper, “Twice?” you question, “I’ll have to look it up again.”

“You gonna leave us?” Yoongi’s smile grows as he presses his forehead on yours, teasing you with his words. Averting your eyes for a moment, acting like you were considering it makes him toss his head back with a laugh.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he says, looking down at you. Closing the gap, you press a fervent kiss to his lips.

“Could never leave you,” you whisper.

“Yoongi!” is called from a door down the hall. Both of you snap out of your private moment to look toward the noise, finding a staff member holding his arms out to the side with impatience. A groan escapes your boyfriend as he nods his head.

“I’m right behind you.” Giving his arm a squeeze, you smile.

“How long are you staying?” he asks with hope, eyebrows turning inward.

“As long as you need,” you whisper, then gesture to the man waiting in the doorway, “Go.”

Following Yoongi into the studio after a couple of minutes, you close the door expertly quietly to not disturb the seven working boys reviewing their choreography. Greeting a few members of the staff with a wave and a smile, you tiptoe to a corner and plop down to the floor, fanning your work and folders in front of you.

Flipping one open to the music video concept that was almost completely denied a little bit ago, you sigh and drag a finger across the pastel blue colors you worked hard to create. Every detail in every photo oozed Bangtan energy, it would’ve been a sin if it wasn’t approved.

Lifting the paper, you hold it up next to the boys, closing one eye so they are both in focus. Many feet in front of you, as your eye flickers from the photo to the dancing boys, you spy Jungkook sneaking glances your way.

Once he’s caught, he flashes you the cheesiest smile and waves discreetly, making you giggle. From his side he motions with his finger for you to flip the paper around, and when you do he pretends to gasp.

“For us?” he says totally inaudible, only his lips moving for you to figure out what he’s said. Bobbing your head happily, he tosses his chestnut hair backward and laughs aloud with glee, catching the attention of Hoseok who was the one reviewing the dance steps.

“Ah, Jungkookie,” Yoongi teases, glaring at the youngest in the mirror with a grin. Wiping the smile from his cheeks, Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he looks at Hobi with fear.

“Hush,” Hoseok waves at Yoongi, “He’s been here for an hour, you just got here,” pressing your lips together, you feel your face flush, “Take a break, JK.”

“Me too?” Taehyung asks, rocking his hips side to side, “I’ve had to pee for a half hour.” Hoseok sends both boys away with a few nods.

Clapping his hands together once, Jungkook releases a happy sigh and skips over to where you sat on the hardwood, flopping right down beside you, brushing elbows. Taehyung hurries behind him, but instead of greeting you, he gives you a charming little wink before he slips into the hall.

“Hi,” Jungkook whispers, leaning into you to bump your shoulders together, “What do you have?”

“Hi, Kookie,” you tap his knee with your fist, then glance up to Yoongi who was watching the two of you with a soft smile, “This is…” you trail off, reaching forward to separate more photos to show him, “...what the Fire music video is going to look like,” you say with pride.

Jungkook’s already big eyes grow three sizes. Leaning forward he takes one of the photographs and brings it closer to his face, analyzing the details. The boy really needed a pair of glasses.

“This is… Insane,” he says, glancing at you twice, “I like how the colors resemble Run.”

Pressing your lips together, you smile.

The staff could spew whatever nonsense about your work they wanted. If Jungkook was going to adore it like this everytime, the fight was worth it.

“Does this mean they fired the other guy?” he asks, lowering the sheet to his lap.

Laughing to yourself, you narrow your eyes and shake your head, “Choi?  Nah… he’ll be there,” side eyeing the teenager you smirk, “The other guy,” you repeat his downplay of the director.

Jungkook giggles, baring his teeth, “Is that wrong?” he questions, bumping your shoulder with his, “You’re the only member of our staff I care about now anyways.”

His words send a chill down your spine, your smile faltering.

“Damn,” you mumble, averting your gaze out to five boys dancing in the middle of the floor.

“Hm?” Jungkook hums, cocking his chin sideways to get a glimpse of your expression, wondering if he’s said something wrong.

“Nothing,” you shrug, eyeing Yoongi curiously as he winces and rubs his shoulder, “Think what you said made me realize I’m sleeping with my boss.”

The boy gasps, “Does… Does Yoongi know?”

Shooting Jungkook a funny brow, you say, “That’s who I’m talking about Kookie, oh my god, did you think I meant Bang?!”

“Hey!” Jungkook holds up both of his hands, “I wasn’t going to judge you, just know that!”

“Hush!” gets shouted from the dance floor after the two of you explode into laughter. Hobi had his teacher mode turned on, which meant sunshine mode was turned off.

Both you and Jungkook cover your mouths and cower backward leaning against the wall. A few stray chuckles escape you both as you try to calm down.

You catch Yoongi’s eye across the room, watching him shamelessly flirt with you while his rehearsal is happening around him. After a wink or two he’s making a silly face, then he jumps back into his work without missing a beat. Flowing through the choreography with ease, he was in the zone, totally focused until he had to rotate his left shoulder back.

Which was basically half of the choreo.

“Jungkook?” you lean closer to him so your voice goes undetected.

“Yeah?” the boy says sweetly. The door to the room flies open, stealing his attention briefly. Taehyung hurries back inside, jumping back into place beside Hobi.

For half a second you contemplate whether or not to ask Jungkook what you’re about to ask him, but it has been months of you observing the same behavior from Yoongi and his damn shoulder. You’d already tried asking the man himself what was going on, but his lips were sealed.

Watching Yoongi rub around his neck once more is what does it, you’re asking about it.

“Is he hurt?” you whisper, keeping your eyes fixed on your boyfriend. Jungkook, following your line of sight, finds Yoongi frowning and straightens out his back.

“Uh, no? I don’t… I don’t think so?” he questions himself. Yoongi raises his shoulder, wearing the discomfort in his brows. “Oh, his… Well, yeah. He doesn’t tell us though, he never mentions it when it bothers him.”

You both watch as Yoongi pushes the pain away, following Hobi as he instructs his corrections.

“Why his shoulder though?” you ask, “What’d he do?”

“It wasn’t anything he did,” Jungkook sighs, “It just never got better, from his accident?” The boy gives you a glance, assuming that you’ve heard of this before, “And you know Yoongi, he doesn’t take care of himself and…”

Jungkook kept talking. You were stuck on three words, not hearing anything else he was saying. 

From his accident. 

“…a workaholic too, yanno, so-“

“What accident?” you ask, turning to look at the boy's brown eyes that start to grow wide. A nervousness stirs in your stomach. One that's fueled by minor hurt that Yoongi wouldn’t share this with you.

You’ve caught Jungkook in an uncomfortable place, you can tell he knows he’s not supposed to talk about it.

“The… The bi- He was on a bike?” he stammers, “Has he not told you about this?”

“Do I look like someone who is in the know?!” your tone raises, prompting you to look over at Hobi to see if he’s noticed, “Jungkook, what happened?”

“I shouldn’t tell you,” his conscience would choose this moment out of all moments in the world to make an appearance, “I mean, he should tell you. Yoongi.”

Reaching a hand over to snag one of his, you squeeze it and give him your most sincere smile, “Can I get the spark notes, please? I’ll make sure you’re front and center for most of this epic, one of a kind Fire music video I’m planning.”

Jungkook considers, then copies your smile, “I’m always front and center.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“But, if you don’t tell me, I’ll make sure Jimin’s in that spot instead.” Narrowing your eyes, you see fear flash through his.

“Tell Jin he has to go blonde,” Jungkook squinted, testing your limits.

“Deal,” You smile, not missing a beat.

“Fine,” he sighs, looking out at the dance floor. Jimin is nibbling the side of one of his nails with his eyes on Jungkook. “I’ll tell you when we’re done here, okay?”

“Jungkookie!” Jimin calls, making Jungkook clammer onto his feet in a hurry.

“Promise,” he says to you before he jogs to Jimin's side, giving the ginger haired boy a huge smile. 

Jimin wraps an arm around his back, speaking quietly to him, charming eyes on full display. No doubt whatever he was spilling was him trying to persuade Jungkook to do something. The kid had trouble saying no to Jimin, and vice versa. You’ve noticed their friendship is the most mischievous, both were willing to take things just a little too far.

Resting your head back on the wall you shift in your spot a bit to get more comfortable, these rehearsals were notorious for being excruciatingly long. Music begins to play, Fire, of course, and it makes you smile.

This song was at the forefront of your brain at the moment, all of your creativity was pouring from this one source specifically. Hearing the tune now you’re reminded of your project, the ideas coming to life in your head while you watch the boys dance. Images of blue, pastel colors while it was simultaneously grungy and edgy.

Keeping a watchful eye on your boyfriend, you study his behavior, anxious to find out what underlying factors are causing him so much pain. Taking the past few months into consideration, he’s never once complained of his shoulder being in pain, but he wasn’t too great at hiding it from his face.

The night in New York City, the night the two of you walked for that wonderful hour, Yoongi was affected by it twice. Now you’ve come to learn that it has nothing to do with his work, and everything to do with the fact that he was in an accident. One the jerk never thought to bring to light.

“Don’t go,” Yoongi mumbles, lips pressed against the side of your neck, “Stay tonight.”

The elevator dings, a cue for the two of you to step apart. Standing beside one another, you to his left, you side eye his shoulder, pressing your lips together, firm. The silver doors in front of you open and close, without any lingering passengers added to your trip.

Yoongi leans back into you, expecting you to open your arms up like they were, but instead you grab his left bicep. Noticing the slight frown gracing your lips he raises a brow.

“I’ll stay, but we gotta talk.”

Nodding, he hesitates a moment before whispering, “What did I do?”

“It’s nothing you did,” you roll your eyes, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “Well, it’s really… It’s something you didn’t do.”

A trillion thoughts flash through his mind, it's almost as if you watch it happen in his eyes, “Is this a girlfriend mind trick?” he asks, standing as still as he possibly can, “I don’t think I’m very good at these, can you just tell if I forgot something, your birthday isn’t until-”

“No, it’s not a girlfriend mind trick,” you smile, cutting him off, preventing a ramble. Your eyes fall to his shoulder as he heaves a sigh of relief. 

Mindless words tumble from his mouth, probably some of gratitude, considering it had only been a couple of months and he wasn’t prepared for you to already be upset with him over missing a date of importance. You attempt to listen to what he’s saying though your eyes are glued to his shoulder, but it’s hard to absorb the words when your own brain is consumed with the thoughts of him being in an accident so bad that he has to live in pain.

Did it happen before he joined the group? Was he actively an Idol when it happened? Was he young? Was he hospitalized? Did it affect anyone else? Had there been any surgeries? Do his parents know? Jungkook knows, so the boys know, but does anyone else know, does anyone else care?

The grimaces that grace Yoongi’s face when he dances conjure the utter opposite feeling of Hoseok’s bright smile. Your boyfriend jokes about not being the main dancer, and not caring much about not being the greatest, but he didn’t hate it. He didn’t look miserable over that, he looked miserable because he was in pain. And he didn’t seem to be doing anything about it.

“Baby?” Yoongi questions, tilting his chin down to meet your line of sight, “C’mon, we’re here.”

Tearing your eyes off of his shoulder you glance toward the elevator doors and find Taehyung hanging inside holding them open. The other six boys had gone downstairs before you, planning to meet on the ground floor to go to dinner. The charmer in the doorway gives you a smile, raising his brows, his eyes widening a bit as well. His chubby cheeks and lightened pink hair were heartwarming.

“Where’d you go?” Yoongi asks, linking his arm beneath yours, guiding you out of the elevator, shooting Taehyung a quick thank you, “I only see you zone out like that when you’re drawing.”

Focusing down on the floor, your heart burdened by off-limits information, you shrug, “Just thinking.”

A few feet ahead of you Namjoon and Jungkook are laughing at Hoseok, the sunshine digging fun at a few of the dance steps they had rehearsed today. Jimin and Taehyung soon join the mix, the two unable to keep away from any type of commotion, and just as anyone could possibly predict, Jimin soon became the center of attention. Jin waited by the door, keeping a watchful eye over his friends.

“Thinking about what?” Yoongi looks at you, pulling your arm to keep away from the group until you give him an answer. “What you said in the elevator? About what we have to talk about?” You nod in response to which he says smug as ever, “I’d love it if I could have a preview. Mull over it at dinner, prepare my documents, receipts and statements before we discuss?” You guys were truly meant to be. You asked Jungkook to do the same during rehearsal.

He makes you laugh, a small sound he tucks away in his back pocket for later when you possibly won’t be smiling at all. There’s a subtle hurt in your eyes that he can’t quite place, one that scares him a little. Big things had happened today, and big feelings were felt. Certain feelings you’ve been having since you started to work for his company.

“You’re really gonna quit aren’t you,” he nearly whispers, “You’re already signed with JYP, I knew it, he may as well debut you with Twice, join the girl group, I love you, I support you-”

“Shut up,” you smirk, huffing a laugh, tugging at his arm, “I’m not signed… Wait. Did you just…”

Yoongi caught it at the exact moment as you, his lips parting in shock.

“I- I- I mean, I’m…” For a moment he’s flustered. He’s unsure of how he allowed those words to slip, he was saving them for hopefully a romantic moment, definitely not while standing in a hallway with six of his friends seven feet away. He meant it, of course he did, it’s been swelling within him for the last few weeks, dying to come out, but the fear of it scaring you kept him from saying it. 

 For once you were finally doing what you were supposed to be doing, what you dreamed of doing- creating art, and having said art be seen by the world, or in this case, millions of BTS fans around the world. You were well on your way to success, he didn’t want to cloud your vision.

The soft, small smile that began to appear on your lips was reassuring enough that he hadn’t in fact scared you.

“Been waiting for that,” you say quietly, “I love you, too.”

Yoongi breathes, “You do?”

His eyes were full of stars, lighting up the second you said the words, warming your heart, turning your cheeks pink. Laughing at his response you hook your arms around his neck and peck a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Of course I do,” you whisper, brushing your nose over his. “I love everything about you.”

Yoongi’s arms circle your waist, tugging you close. A smile appears as he whispers, “Are we skipping dinner?” Your heart takes a tumble.

“I think so,” you giggle, glancing at the boys by the door who’s attention has turned to the two of you.

Hanging onto Taehyung’s back, his arms slung around his shoulders, Jimin watches with enormous puppy dog eyes. Leaning on the door beside Jin, Namjoon and Hobi, who wears the ghost of a smile, glancing away when you catch his eye, exchanging a few quiet words with his friends.

It took a while for their looks to no longer alienate you, as nice as they all were. Not one member made you feel unwelcome, if anything they did their best to make you feel like one of them. Still, coming between seven guys, who work and live together, as a girlfriend? Terrifying.

The relationship you shared with Yoongi you’d only discussed with Sunny, and a little bit with Jungkook if you caught his ear. The teenager was fascinated by the two of you, and though quiet, he sure had plenty to say about your relationship. He was the one you’d use for help, especially when it came to the industry you worked in. Jungkook was observant, he was smart, and good at just about everything without even trying.

Taking him in now, a tiny thing with his hands folded behind his back, he was smiling entirely too big. There was a hopeless romantic in there hiding behind those pure doe eyes, you were sure of it. He lived vicariously through you and Yoongi, since the start.

Though Yoongi always found it a bit funny, teasing you whenever Jungkook got a bit too close, saying the maknae was crushing on you, he must not be paying attention to the longing glances the boy snags of one of his friends. Preferably the one with the ginger hair, latched onto Taehyung’s back with an incredibly adorable pouty face.

“We need to get you guys some girlfriends,” you say quietly to your audience, making half of them laugh. Jungkook whips his head with eyes the size of saucers towards Jimin.

“Please!” The dramatic boy groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off of Taehyung's back. Jungkook gulps, glancing down to his feet.

Catching a glimpse of the scene you narrow your eyes and say, “None for you, Jimin. You get plenty of attention.” His jaw falls open as a chorus of laughter rolls out of his friends. “All for Jungkook, how ‘bout that?”

“Why?” Jimin snaps, suddenly standing up straight, the dramatics dropping in an instant. His hands fell down by his sides, his gaze hardening the slightest bit.

Jungkook, with his chin pointed to his chest, watches the two of you with his eyes, fidgeting his fingers along the hem of his shirt. It seemed as though no one in the room knew anything, except you three. Were they oblivious? The seven of them spent too much time together, there’s no way nothing has been said, but then again, none of them can keep their hands to themselves so maybe it wasn’t obvious.

If so, you intended to keep it quiet. That is, until Jungkook is ready to say something. He would come to you, you knew he would. Getting closer with him these past months you knew he didn’t share an affinity for your gender like some of his members, he didn’t have to say the words. You grew up in New York state, you spent college in the city- you knew enough queer people to know.

So you’d wait until he was ready. That didn’t mean you couldn’t poke at Jimin to see where he stood, hoping Jungkook would catch onto what you were doing.

Tonight he did, and he sent a smile your way after Jimin threw his little fit. You prayed he knew that you knew. He was the youngest, currently the smallest. It was impossible not to feel like you acquired some type of big sister responsibility, and seeing how Jungkook enjoyed clinging to your side sometimes, the bond was formed without needing to discuss.

“Okay, enough,” Namjoon chuckled from the door where he took a step away from Jin, “Let’s eat, please.” A round of groans of approval this time sounded from the boys instead of laughter.

“Oh, uh,” Yoongi speaks up, loosening his arms around you, holding up a hand to catch his leader's attention. Your stomach did a flip, you hoped they wouldn’t mind you guys not attending this dinner. Namjoon and Jin both turn around, the eldest holding the door open for the members to file out while keeping his attention on Yoongi. “We’re… gonna skip out.”

A smirk tugs at Jin’s lips, and you’re reminded that you need to convince him to lighten his hair. That’d be a job for Sunny. The boy couldn’t resist her charms.

Namjoon simply releases a breath and shrugs his shoulders, saying, “Jimin’s turn to pay anyway, two less people to worry about.”

“Damn it!” You sneer, stamping a foot on the tile beneath you. Namjoon laughs, knowing you’d want to tease Jimin some more. Yoongi smiles, sending you a funny look with his brows pointed up.

“Have fun,” Namjoon nods, then turns to head out the door Jin was still propping open.

“Yeah,” Jin sing-songs, “Have fun.”

“Get ouuut,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, swatting a hand at his friend, eyeing him as he walks away, the door swinging shut behind his broad back.

The second you two are finally alone, Yoongi tugs you back into his body, tilting his chin down to try to plant a kiss to your lips, but you’re quick to miss it. Jutting your own chin backward, you give the smallest, most innocent smile you’ve ever pulled. His eyebrows flip over, and they scrunch a bit in the center of his forehead underneath his mint colored hair.

Amidst the ‘I love yous’ and the teasing of his friends, it seems he’s forgotten the two of you have something to discuss. Skipping going out to dinner he assumes you’ll be his dinner, and after you talk to him you fully intend to allow him to make a meal out of you, but you need answers. 

More importantly, you need to figure out why he’s kept this from you, especially since it’s been hindering his life daily since you’ve met him.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi whispers, giving your back a sweet rub. His deep brown eyes dance between yours, curiosity unfolding within his irises. He was entirely too endearing, the way his brain has wiped away any interference of life just because you’ve said three words that’ve changed the trajectory of your relationship. It was adorable. 

Going back to the day you met him you aren’t sure you could’ve imagined him acting this way.

Pulling a hand over his left bicep, you give it the gentlest squeeze making Yoongi’s expression shift slightly. Giving his shoulder a look, you sigh, still wearing that innocent smile.

When you meet his eyes again, he shares the same appearance of knowing in his eyes that Jungkook had mere minutes ago. He knew you knew.

 Standing to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, you whisper, “Let’s go for a walk, D.”

VEGAS TAGS! ~ Thank you &lt;3 ( I'm sorry for being a slow updater :') )

@ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

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[dearweirdme]

Ok so

I sent you an ask & talked about (amongst other things) my feeling that Tk have split up.

It was with some amusement & a fair bit of eye rolling that I read the comments.

First off. Sorry to disappoint some of you, but I am not, never have been & never will be a jikooker.

I think you need to understand that IF Tk split up, it will not make jikook real.

I am also not a ‘Tae bias Tkker that blames Jungkook for everything’ & if the person that said that thinks Jungkook has a say in how Tae is treated by the company & the fake lil7, they need to check themselves.

I sometimes wonder if I’m the only Taekooker that’s ever had more than 1 relationship as the concept of people breaking up seems to be unknown to many?

To answer 1 comment - I specifically said the Jungkook IS NOT a selfish dick - perhaps work on reading comprehension hmm?

While (with due respect as she seems polite from the conversations I’ve seen you have with her) I’d rather not have mrs monaghan agreeing with me, she is actually right about a couple of things -

It appears than ppl in the comments have not watched the lives Jungkook did (I think 3?) that were pretty much all about Jimin - watching videos of him, talking about him & yes, praising him. They were in fact quite jarring as they were such a departure from his usual lives.

And yes, they did spend time together in & around NY - there was plenty of sightings, talk & a couple of photos about it at the time. No doubt some of it was specifically for content as there were cameras & they were wearing mics - we will probably see that soon in Jimin’s documentary.

If it was Taekook, we’d be very happy about all this, just as we have been with seeing them at the premiere, the selca & at Yoongi’s concert.

Why this Jimin centric content is coming from Jungkook, I couldn’t say - especially as I’ve already stated that I’m not a jikooker.

Perhaps as one commenter said, it has to do with image for military service, although I don’t know how the Jikooking fits in.

I can only assume that some of the people commenting are not in gc’s or have moots that talk about what’s happening, so they’re actually not aware of things. Which doesn’t mean they haven’t happened, only that they don’t know about it. We talk about jikookers watching actual content - that goes for Taekookers too - staying in your bubble is like being in an echo chamber- you’re only going to hear & see what you want.

However. Your answer to me (thank you for taking the time, I appreciate the conversation) made sense - I agree that Tae & Jk are very close & they love each other a lot & your point that if they’re only friends, why wouldn’t Jungkook post for Tae, is a good one.

It doesn’t explain why he doesn’t post for Tae or like his tiktoks etc, but I’m aware that we’ll never know - unless we get lucky in the distant future & maybe one of them will write a book & spill a few secrets!

They both seem to be happy - it’s been a joy to watch Tae for the last few weeks (despite the sabotage & lack of support from so called ot7 😑) & he’s achieved a lot. As I’ve already said, I have no doubt that Jungkook will be extremely successful & we know he too will work very hard - I’m happy that it’s unlikely he will face the challenges Tae has & we can hopefully enjoy this time without the anxiety.

I honestly hope I’m dead wrong & that they’re still together- but if they aren’t, so be it, they aren’t fairytale characters & I would always only want them to be happy (together preferably 😬)

Sorry for the long commentary- your patience is commendable 😂

To some of the commenters - don’t assume everyone is a jikooker just because they have a different view or opinion to you - if you talk to enough people with an open mind, you’ll find that there’s a lot of different perspectives out there, it’s just that there’s very few places they can be discussed without instant raising of hackles & hate.

Thanks 😊

Hi again anon!

You are not the only one thinking this way, there’s quite a few doubting Tkkrs at the moment. Which is in all honesty fine. People do break up at times it’s usually for the best even, since breakups are most of the time because something doesn’t work.

There’s a lot of comparing Tkk’s interactions with those of Jkk. The reason for that is obvious ofcourse, but it also creates an either/or situation. To me it’s clear that Jimin and Jk are just friends, so it feels like an odd comparison. I don’t expect friends and partners to act the same. I think Jk’s interactions with Jimin on social media is exemplary of him missing Jimin.. them not spending as much time together as they are used to. That also fit with what we’ve seen in the firat part of the year… Jkkrs themselves were doubting if those two were seeing each other still. I think that is just what it was. I think Jk is a very ‘act in the moment’ guy. I don’t think he planned those lives to be about Jimin up front, I think he was prompted by things (seeing Jm online on weverse, seeing him in his comments, fans asking about him) and he just acted on that because he loves him and felt a sudden surge of fondness. I don’t think those instances were signs of anything more. Ofcourse it were great moments though.. but it doesn’t have anything to do with Jk’s relationship with Tae.

When comparing the two ships’s interactions.. somehow it’s not looked at in terms of private vs public. Because when we look at private interactions.. the scale tips over quite a lot to the other side. We know Tae and Jk have met often. Tae still talks about Jk freely and happily. There’s no reserve, no sadness there.. so that is why I think all is well. Tae’s behavior and comments are quite often being disregarded as ‘yeah, that’s just Tae’.. as if his doings don’t actually count. But he is one part of Tkk so ofcourse what he does and says counts.

I know we’ve not had much the last two months or so.. but the last two months have also been the ones where both Tae and Jk have been the busiest. Both of them are flying all over the world constantly, they have all sorts of projects going.. so that is what makes this time different I think… aside from that I feel Tae and Jk have been pretty consistent.

And yeah… I get a lit of jkkrs on here.. also some pretending to be Tkkrs.. so that’s why people probably saw you as one as well 😬.

#taekook #the brake is still on #this anon deserved an exception

[dustedmagazine]

2022: Patrick Masterson

Photos by Patrick Masterson

I.

We filter in slowly. Given Sleeping Village is a stroll down the block, it’s inevitable I’m on the early side, but the place is already humming with anticipation by the time I walk in. I order a beer and head to an open booth tucked away in back, where I’m greeted one after the other by guys I call friends and co-workers, an agreeable mix of dudes from two generations. We do some bridge-building as they appear, figure out a couple of us have been to the same shows over the decades and not realized it, y’know, the usual time-killing.

As if this table weren’t proof enough, I look up at one point and note who’s loitering around the bar area: Though a modest youthfulish contingent exists, tonight’s a veritable Post-Punk Dads’ Prom, which in March of 2022 indicates one of two things — and since Wet Leg already came through at the beginning of the month, it could only mean we’re here to see Yard Act play the final date of their first U.S. tour.

Evidently, nothing unites Former Cool Guys on a drizzly night out like a little “angular” guitar and a chatty Loiner with a chip on his shoulder. In a year that would turn out to be studded with top-tier post-punk throwbacks, Yard Act are already ahead of the pack at this point with The Overload’s January release. Coming off a string of Rough Trade-endorsed singles, an EP and a full-length establishing James Smith’s wry, politically minded verbosity over the complementary supporting trio of Ryan Needham’s bass, Jay Russell’s drums and Sam Shjipstone’s guitar, the band is confident rolling into their final stateside set. Just a few days before, they’d played Fallon and announced their arrival to whatever audience still cares about late night TV. I have no idea who that is because I haven’t had cable since 2008 and can’t think of anyone else who does, either, but all the same, it’s sold out.

It comes out in varying degrees depending on the song, but the major takeaway from a live Yard Act set is just how fucking funny they are — more so even than on record. Bands that have decent between-song banter are pretty rare in my experience, usually limited to mumbled thanks or obfuscated in-jokes. Not these guys: Arriving to the stage juiced on whatever the rider offered backstage and clearly fixing to close this tour out in a blaze of minor glory, Smith’s amicable observational prodding immediately endears him to the crowd. Between riffs on deep dish, American candy and overly long, underexplained stories from the road, the band kills, rifling through a grab bag of choons from their limited discography. They’re tight when the music’s going and loose when it’s not. The natural rapport between Needham and Smith is evident as the former keeps the latter — ever more glassy-eyed and garrulous as the set carries on — in check. Years put in with the likes of lesser NME fodder like Post War Glamour Girls and Menace Beach make plain this is not their first rodeo. They can handle us — and do, playing everything everyone wants to hear at just the right levels of volume and sneering, smirking aggression. It’s a thing of beauty. No one leaves unhappy.

I walk home thinking I might’ve just seen my favorite show of the year — and were it not for Yves Tumor the very next night, I’d be correct. I have some spring in my step now, too, and not just on account of the season: I’m about to embark on a massive project at work that got dumped on me the month before and I’m dreading it, but that aside, my personal life slowly feels like it’s crystallizing and I’m having a great week, a great month, fuck, I’m having a great year. How many people can say that in 2022? How many people are riding this kind of high right now? How many people can look up at the sky and feel like the stars are aligned, each one exactly in its right place burning back at them?

It’s hard to be cautious when everything feels like it’s slowly making the sense you always thought was there, but I keep trying to talk myself down from the ledge of this good mood anyway. Still: How real it feels, how unyielding the truth of it seems.

II.

It’s not that I wouldn’t have believed you without seeing it for myself, but there’s something both viscerally funny and viscerally stupid witnessing with your own eyes how we really did fuck it up: Iceland is green and Greenland is ice. That’s what’s running in and out of my head on the second leg of a return journey from Helsinki, where I’ve just been for an extended early August weekend because I’m an idiot who’s wholly incapable of taking a nice, normal, relaxing vacation somewhere with beaches and 500-page books you can read in two nights and big meals wearing bad shirts with bogus floral prints. No, my idea of a good time is winging it in a country where I don’t speak a lick of the language — don’t even pretend to understand how declensions work there, frankly — and all the words on the signs are too long and I don’t like seafood so I’m probably never going to be a good fit for the place even though it may as well be Michigan for how it looks and I realize too late my SIM card doesn’t work but Instagram still does for some dumb reason and what the fuck am I paying T-Mobile, an international conglomerate that recently bought out Sprint and changed my bill but not my capability, all this money for every month, anyway? Why did I have to rely on an old high school acquaintance, who’s really my brother’s friend’s brother, to get around via e-scooter in Estonia? Why can’t I just shut up and take in a scenic mountain or the quiet crash of an ocean view like a normal person?

On this plane, it feels less draining to imagine Iceland and Greenland are called opposite things. That I can handle.

Before I boarded back in Finland, where I managed one last European pint at the airport bar that was alarmingly close to my gate, I sent one of the longest text messages I’ve ever written, one I spent practically the whole summer composing. Through visits to new breweries, a jaunt to Indiana to check out the Bob Ross museum and set a Guinness record applying a new coat to the world’s largest ball of paint, discovering I hate driving Teslas, Wisconsin, wherever, there it sat idling on my phone — fully formed coming out of my dreams every morning, unfinished in new and unique ways every night before bed. I’d read the fragments over and over again, sleeping on hidden arcs and previously unconsidered angles, gradually edging toward some kind of conclusion, if not resolution. You can’t know what happens after you push send, but I’d been here before; I’d sent almost this exact same message before, in fact. A hideous Hail Mary, a prayer to God, the best I can offer. What I had the moment I sent it were my words.

The weekend before I was slated to leave for this trip, I took it upon myself to sneak in some internal reviews for the radio station I’ve been volunteering at as long as I’ve been in Chicago, 15 years, Jesus, who knew I’d last that long in any capacity as an adult? There’s no great mystery to it: An enormous Google spreadsheet lists all the records we’ve imported but don’t have a review and FCC profanity notes on. It sounds silly and it’s invisible work to a listener, but these short blurbs help DJs sound more informed on air and guide them on what (and more importantly, what not) to play, a system founded in college radio and still alive in the select places they still allow for this kind of thing.

I chance upon TV Priest’s My Other People on account of some very hasty notes from whomever imported it, throw it on, let it run for a bit. I leave it through “Slideshow,” through “Bury Me in My Shoes,” both of which I find pleasantly catchy on a cursory listen. I leave it on some more as I catch up on the news. I leave it on so long, in fact, that I finish the record and immediately feel the urge to play it again from the top, something I’d been missing in music for large chunks of 2022. I think to myself after a first run through that, hey, this is pretty good; I think halfway through a second spin, listening much closer now, that, hey, this is really good; and by the time I’m finished with it again, I think this is improbably my favorite album of the year. I check to see when they’re touring next and practically burst out laughing when I see they’re in town at Beat Kitchen down the street the very next night. In less than 48 hours, I’ve gone from never having heard of this band before to enthusiastically walking out the door of their first Chicago tour date.

Here’s a theory I turned over in my mind that weekend: TV Priest is the band everyone thinks Idles is. I don’t mean any disrespect to the latter; they’re a fine band and if that’s your thing, good on you and them both. But there’s an element of gravitas to the London quartet — an almost Morrissey-like flair for the dramatic in Charlie Drinkwater’s soaring-and-roaring baritone, Nic Bueth’s leaden bass and Ed Kelland’s drumwork that may as well be actual anchors, and the tones Alex Sprogis takes with his guitars — that to me feels more weathered, more adult, a brusque tenderness shaved off in Idles’ more pitched punk. (Not for nothing, but I also saw four guys separately walk into Beat Kitchen behind me with Idles shirts on.) It’s a perfect blend of Associates and Fugazi, brutal and beautiful post-punk elegance ensuing from the end of an empire. I must’ve played “House of York” 200 times if I played it once in the days following the show and that one didn’t even make an album. Many are working in this vein right now, but hardly anyone did it better in 2022.

I am thinking that as “Sunland” plays again and the shine of the real thing above off the white expanse below blinds me. Who’d have thought I’d end up directly next to a guy who was also meeting his brother from New York City in Helsinki for the weekend? Incredible odds. Life is funny like that sometimes. A weekend fueled by croissants and a free upgrade to an automatic-equipped Volkswagen Passat and sun, always the fucking sun up there, they weren’t kidding about that, either, there were more than a few times during this trip when I thought maybe I just wouldn’t come back. Fuck a SIM card, anyway. It’s all just reformed elements, it’s all just numbers on numbers, it’s all just someone else’s profit, right? It’s all just some pointless collapsing star.

Slumped toward sunlight with my head against the fuselage watching infinite white topography shimmer as it passes — Greenland is ice, I promise you that really is it, there’s nothing else down there — I’m playing TV Priest on a busted old iPod and making mental preparations to be apart for an unknown period of time again, stuck in a familiar loop with the voices in my head rolling over the same old questions years long from different angles, chewing on emotional errata and heated fragments past, phrasing the most basic mysteries in different ways and pointlessly expecting some kind of clarity to fall from the flaring, to rise from the ice and reveal itself. The self-interrogation never stops: When do I finally stop being so stubborn about everything that matters, stop taking the harder road, stop thinking too much and feeling too much more? Why am I like this, why can’t I ever see the answers until I’ve asked the right questions a fraction too late? Why am I too slow to understand the truth when it’s not explained to me? Why do I bother believing in anything?

I shut my eyes for a moment, the skin of my lids carry a familiar heft. Honestly, I’m tired of thinking and I’m ready to leave all of this; I’ve never been more ready, maybe. The plane never shudders skeptically, but still I’m there in my seat alone in a metal tube suspended 30,000-plus feet in the air hurtling through space, through life, at 500 mph wondering: What if this is it, what if this is all there was? What happens back home, back there, that place I don’t love enough to want to return to but can’t seem to leave? What am I going to do when my words finally, inevitably fall short, when the best I offer is rotting roses and garbled prayer and a Hail Mary read all wrong? And what if I settle for what happens after that, what if this isn’t all there was? What if good enough is good enough?

Patrick Masterson

#dusted magazine #yearend 2022 #yard act #tv priest #post-punk #patrick masterson

[maple-leifarts]

INFINITE PARADISE - Chapter 1

A DSMP AU fic I had the idea for not that long ago actually! Hope you enjoy :D (warning pretty long lmao)

“Goooood morning New London! Thanks for tuning into Destrympia News—your one and only news station personalized for your region!” The annoyingly cheerful automated dialogue blared in the blonde’s face, almost startling him off of the steel ladder he climbed down. Tommy sneered at the cyborg announcer’s face in the fully colored hologram before him as it continued to spew about how wonderful a day it was, like it did every day. “Can’t you believe the great day we all have ahead of us? Our futures are guaranteed to be enjoyable, special, and unique thanks to our sponsor—and our planet’s loving caretaker—The Syndicate!!”

“If only you knew how bad it really is,” Tommy grumbled furiously. He reached the bottom of the steps and took off into the dank, dark sewers on his hoverboard—inconspicuous enough to fool anyone into thinking he was your everyday teen. But, truly, he was more than that. In both good and bad ways. He barreled out into into the streets, the morning light blinding him, and zoomed up past the buildings into the Skyway.

The bright lilac sky blanketed the skyscrapers of New London, each one miles high, shiny and black, and laced with their own glowing neon colors. Despite being 6 in the morning, the city was bustling with activity—people walked along the streets, shops opened, the Skyway was packed with other flying vehicles, and—as Tommy discovered from the news report—a festival was being set up on the other side of the city. “Make sure to stop by the Harvest Festival today! It will be open to the public at 7 and will have lots of activities for everyone—roller coasters, fun competitive games, sideshows, and fireworks tonight at 6! Thank goodness the festival is this week too, since the average temperature will be taking a huge drop as the autumn season begins-“

Luckily briefly interrupting the weather report, Tommy received a short text on his watch—“New place is in the festival”. He grinned, happy to hear the news. “I was hoping for an excuse to check it out.” He took a right and began his way downtown.

Tommy tuned out the news and watched his surroundings as he flew, memorizing the buildings and streets he passed. Having no clue how long he would have to stay in New London, it was best to get to know the city from head to toe and especially mark all possible escape routes in case he was forced to run away from anything or anyone. Which, unfortunately, was often.

Tom was stuck in his trance of staring at all the roads below him until the news report momentarily snapped him back to reality. “As of last night, 5 mutants escaped from the Syndicate HQ and are on the loose. No trace of them has been seen since around 1 last night, so they could be anywhere. The Syndicate has not submitted any photos of them, so keep a lookout for anyone that seems out of the ordinary!”

The blonde hummed and nodded knowingly. “If they’re smart, they’d be far from HQ by now,” he muttered to himself.

”And on that note, we have some related news—“

Tommy groaned. “Here we go again.”

”It’s coming up on the 2 year anniversary since mutants Tom Simons and Ranboo Beloved mysteriously disappeared from the HQ. We still have no idea if they escaped together, or if it was just a coincidence that they escaped at the same time, but all we know is that they haven’t been seen since.” Tommy rolled his eyes. There were two things wrong about all of that. One, he didn’t “mysteriously” disappear; the escape was plenty obvious. And two, he had been spotted lots of times. Apparently the Syndicate liked to keep quiet about it, and/or were embarrassed they hadn’t caught him. And just to clarify, he had never met Ranboo.

Two images now appeared in the hologram, the first being the “Ranboo” guy. He looked about 17 in the image and had fuzzy light brown hair in a short wolf cut that somewhat covered his piercing grey eyes. A strange metal mask hid the bottom half of his face and many tubes filled with a glowing orange liquid came out of the side and bottom of the mask and connected to something on the back of his head and to a metal plate/control panel sort of thing on his chest. He wore a plain black tanktop and stared at the camera with a mildly annoyed look on his face.

The second image was Tom, 16 at the time, blurred as he ran away from the camera looking furious. Unlike Ranboo, Tom in the picture wore extremely bright colors on black, to the point where it almost looked ridiculous. However, it didn’t distract from his electric blue eyes, which were blindingly bright and shone like headlights. The result of messing with a tube of Element X5, the element that fueled the entire planet when mixed with neon, when he was younger.

“Remember, if you see any of these individuals, don’t hesitate to tell your nearest Syndicate scout immediately!” the android in the hologram finished.

Tommy hastily gave his current outfit a once-over—a mahogany sleeveless jacket with a dark green t-shirt under, a black belt, dark brown cargo pants, even darker brown boots, a red-brown over the shoulder bag, light brown sleeves with diamonds cut out at the elbows, black fingerless gloves, a mahogany forearm guard on his left arm, a light maroon hooded cape, and to top it off, a faded green bandana wrapped around his eyes to hide the glowing blue. Nothing like the outfit the world constantly saw him in on the news and posters. One might call it a loss of identity, but he called it street smarts.

He finally looked up to realize he nearly missed the exit to the festival. He swerved and floated down to the entrance, which seemed to have opened a bit early. A good number of people already wandered through the food stands, played the games, watched the sideshows, and rode the coasters. It was quite overwhelming of the senses and full of distractions—bright flashing lights, screams and cheers, aromas of fried food, and much more. And the festival took up 8 acres. Tom looked at his recent text and sighed. “This is gonna take a while.”

#fanfic #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp au #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp au #infinite paradise dsmp au #infinite paradise dream smp au #dsmp neon city au #dream smp neon city au #tommyinnit #ip!tommyinnit #ip!tommy #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fanfiction #ranboo #ranboolive #ip!ranboo

[paracunt]

hi! where do you usually find all the photos and videos you post? twitter, instagram, photographers/fans filming directly? just curious, thank you for all that you do!!!

this is probably gonna be a long answer… But when it comes to instagram I usually look up the name of the venue and find their profile, if it’s a day or two old show and i’m looking i’ll go through the tags and see if anyone has tagged them in paramore stuff. if it’s the day of the show i look up the venues name in the instagram search bar and go to “places” and constantly refresh to see if anyone’s posted during the concert whether it be on instagram stories or actual posts. i also check the venues instagram because sometimes they’ll post videos of them performing while the concert is going.

on twitter yelyahgoon typically posts a tag the day of the show that some people use which is a big help for me. for example, the st. paul show’s tag was “ paramorestpaul “. sometimes i’ll check accounts i’ve seen that have been at multiple shows and see if they’re attending the show the night of. i also look at “big” paramore accounts and check likes & reblogs to see if anyone they know of is going to the shows as well, it just makes my life easier if i figure out beforehand who could possibly be going & uploading content.

if all else fails i’ll just search “Paramore” in the search bar and hit “latest” to see if anyone has posted anything from the show.

i also have a pretty good memory on different photographers names and stuff, people i’ve seen shoot paramore in concert before. like i found uselessthroats and i try to check sometimes to see if they’ve posted anymore photos. also christian sarkine is another great paramore photographer too (there are more, i plan on making a masterlist of different photographers that have shot paramore one day… maybe).

also i’ll look up the name of the venue or city they are in with “paramore” at the end and click “news” on google or i’ll go to photos and click “recent” to try to find articles & photos that hasn’t been posted on socials or that i just haven’t been able to find on socials. sometimes if you’re lucky enough a photographer will upload a gallery of photos they took, that’s like my holy grail.

ok, i feel like i’ve already word vomited enough so TLDR: pretty much it’s just me constantly refreshing everything and attempting to have eyes everywhere at all times.

thank you for your kind words. i hope you have a lovely day.

#ask #thank you for the ask! #it was weird typing all this out

[artificialqueens]

Potluck Challenge Entry (Raja/Willam) - Dartmouth420

summary: Willam only decided to host a potluck for everyone from the office because it’s the ideal situation in which to hit on her unprecedentedly attractive coworker, Raja. But the recipe for vegan canapés she found online is a dud, and no one’s being very helpful… Lesbian AU, Raja/Willam. Featuring: Alaska, Bianca, Adore, Courtney, Latrice, Jinkx and Dela. 2180 words.

A/n: V, this one is for you ;) cw: weed (weed is legal here in Canada but idk what's going on in America so take this with a grain of salt!)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“A good idea? A potluck is a great idea!” argued Willam, looking frantically from the photo header of the online recipe on her phone to the misshapen and bizarre vegan canapés in front of her. They didn’t look like they were supposed to. “This recipe is obviously defective! They’re getting a one-star rating.”

Alaska, her roommate and official best friend, rolled her eyes, and replied dryly, “Well, I’m not gonna say I told you so… but inviting all your coworkers over for a potluck when you know for a fact you can’t cook is asking for trouble.”

Alaska, of course, had made a truly spectacular grilled vegetable bruschetta, and had somehow found the time to make fresh sourdough garlic bread, and marinara sauce on the side. God damn it.

Willam huffed, but she was completely and utterly out of time, so she just took the tray and put it on their shared kitchen table. Then she rushed to the bathroom mirror to check her reflection, because she knew where her priorities lay. She looked good, her lipstick and eyeshadow were impeccable, her cleavage was industrial-grade, and she fluffed her loose blonde hair.

There was only one reason Willam wanted to host a potluck anyway; as an excuse to get to know her hot new coworker, Raja. Raja was confident, smart, and moved with a subtle intentionality that made Willam really want to get bent over a desk and railed with a strap-on. She was tall, had beautiful high cheekbones, dark sensual eyes, elegant grey-streaked hair, and was incredibly hot. Raja made an office-appropriate blazer look like sex on wheels.

Oh, and she was really fucking funny, too. 

Willam had barely been able to concentrate at the office for weeks, because Raja kept saying incredibly sexy and suggestive things to her like, do you have the wifi password? and oh yeah, I just moved here from L.A., and the coffee is pretty good with oat milk, and hey, can you pass me the stapler?

Clearly, the office element of the office romance was getting in the way. So, Willam’s plan to seduce her at the potluck held in her own home was genius, the only problem was that the canapés looked idiotic, probably tasted terrible, and she didn’t have time to fix them.

The doorbell rang. Alaska mildly walked over and reached for the door handle…

Willam whirled out of the bathroom, darted up to the door and reached around her, “Do not hog my light-!”

Alaska crossed her arms and pursed her lips, stepping back from the door. Willam laughed, leaned sexily in the doorway, and pulled the door open.

“A potluck? What kind of an idea is that, we all know you can’t cook, bitch,” said Bianca dryly, standing on the step, holding a glass casserole dish against her hip.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Willam, disappointed.

“You bet it’s me,” announced Bianca, pushing past her inside, and leaning in to kiss Alaska’s cheek, murmuring suggestively. “Hey darling, haven’t seen you in a while…”

“Stop hitting on my roommate.”

Alaska giggled and purred, “Oh hi Bianca, it has been a while hasn’t it? How’s Courtney?”

“Didn’t you hear? We broke up…”

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, I had no idea..."

Willam made a retching sound.

Bianca came into their home and deposited her beautiful, decorated lasagna, thick with cheese and meat, next to Willam’s dubious canapés. It looked amazing, and smelled delicious.

“Wow, these are… something,” said Bianca, looking up from the canapés with a shark-like smile. “I’ll give you a gold star, honey, you did try.” She noticed the bruschetta, bread and sauce set out. "Alaska, this must be yours, looks fantastic! I can't wait to, ah, get a little taste of it on my tongue."

“And I can’t wait to taste your dish either, Bianca,” said Alaska, fluttering her eyelashes at Bianca and reaching for a plate.

“No, not yet!” insisted Willam, even as her stomach growled. Everything had to be perfect for Raja, who would probably bring something unbelievably impressive. On top of being incredibly hot, she was probably also a five-star chef.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang again, and more people from the office arrived in rapid succession. They were a timely bunch, apparently. Latrice, Courtney, Adore, Dela and Jinkx, everyone was here! And all of the conniving assholes she had once considered friendly coworkers had shown Willam up, each bringing something creative and impressive and homemade. Courtney in particular seemed determined to compete with her ex, having brought a vegan cashew and mushroom pasta casserole in a nearly identical glass dish to Bianca's lasagna. Even Adore brought her home-brewed beer, for fuck’s sake. Between all of them there was enough food for the vegans and the non-vegans, and probably all of Willam’s other neighbours on the block too.

Luckily, people seemed fine to linger and talk and start the drinking early. Several more minutes passed, and Raja didn't appear.

“Who are we still waiting for?” asked Adore, looking around the room.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry,” added Dela.

“Everything looks fantastic,” added Latrice.

“Except for the canapés,” snarked Bianca.

“We’re waiting for Willam’s crush…” teased Alaska, nudging Willam in the side. 

Courtney rolled her eyes, “You’re starving us because Raja is late? As usual?”

“Hey!” snapped Willam, “She’s probably like, making an actual wedding cake or something. You know her. She’s talented!”

“Now a wedding cake is something I can get behind…” commented Jinkx, looking suggestively to  Dela. Dela ignored her.

"Did they break up again?" whispered Latrice to Willam. Willam shrugged, she had no idea.

But Raja still wasn't here, and Willam was sweating through her deodorant with nerves! Ugh, at this rate she was never going to get laid.

“Let’s just go ahead and start,” said Willam, diplomatic, which she thought was extremely admirable of her given the high-stakes nature of this casual potluck. “If she’s late, then she’s late and she can’t complain if she doesn’t get first choice.”

“And if she’s lucky, the canapés will be long gone,” commented Bianca, nudging Latrice, who laughed along before glancing longingly at Dela, and they stepped up to fill their plates.

People filed around the table, chatting and giving one another compliments on what fantastic creations they’d brought, even Adore’s home brew. Though to Willam, the nine-percent-alcohol beer tasted like a yeasty grapefruit had been left out in the sun for too long.

Willam sighed, and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms with disappointment. Maybe Raja wasn’t going to come to the potluck at all. Maybe she hadn’t picked up on Willam’s highly subtleindications that she wanted to get railed, or worse… wasn’t interested?!

But then the doorbell rang.

Willam leapt up from her slump against the counter, and sprinted to the door. She adjusted her skirt and pushed her tits up a little further in her bra, counted fifteen seconds down, and opened the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” said Raja, with a casual grin that could charm a rocket to Mars. Willam nearly fainted with the force of it.

“Oh, uh, welcome!” said Willam, stepping back and holding the door open, noting that Raja had a tote bag over her shoulder. Raja entered, looking around curiously. She wore a very normal outfit of a button-up and jeans, but it was somehow the sexiest thing Willam had ever seen, and she wanted to tear her clothes off with her teeth.

“Nice place.”

“Thank you, it’s cheap,” replied Willam, leading her into the kitchen, and hoping Raja was taking the opportunity to look at her ass.

“Look who’s here!” said Willam as they entered the room, and everyone turned to look. Willam hadn’t expected that. But maybe she shouldn’t have announced it.

“Hey guys,” said Raja, putting her tote bag down on the kitchen island, tucking her long, sensual, elegant hair over one shoulder. “So… an office potluck, that’s a fun idea.”

“It sure is,” replied Bianca, raising her eyebrows, “Why don’t you come over here and check out Willam’s canapés…”

“No!” said Willam, hurrying to change the subject. “Uh… Raja, what did you bring?”

“Let me see…” Raja dug around in her bag, and took out a package of the cheapest grocery store brand chips available.

Alaska blinked with surprise. Courtney scoffed. Bianca and Latrice looked at each other and winced.

“Nice, I love chips,” said Adore, nodding contentedly.

But Raja didn’t seem embarrassed at all, or even aware of the anyone else’s judgement. What a sexy quality. Plus, she was still digging around in her bag.

“Oh yeah, and this,” said Raja. Willam’s heart beat quickly with anticipation.

It was a bottle of cheap chardonnay. Only two-thirds full.

“She didn’t drive here, did she?” whispered Dela to Jinkx. Maybe they were back together?

“Hang on…” continued Raja, giving Willam a knowing wink.

Willam wasn’t sure she could handle the anticipation; her pits were damp, and so was her pussy. If Raja didn’t pull something truly impressive out of her bag, her standing in the office would be ruined forever! But the silver lining, considered Willam, was that her disastrous canapés wouldn’t be nearly as memorable compared to Raja’s chips and wine.

With a flourish, Raja pulled one final thing out her bag and slapped it on the table. 

Everyone leaned in to see what it was.

It was a plastic ziplock bag, full of dense, deep green, rich buds of weed. It had to be at least an ounce. Willam nearly drooled, the weed looked so good; fresh and sparkling with crystal-like feathers on the dried, curled leaves, likely to produce a wonderful, mind-bending high.

“I didn’t have time to make it into brownies,” said Raja, shrugging, “I hope this is okay…?”

“Oh, this is more than okay!” said Alaska, clapping her hands together gleefully. “I’ll get my bong…”

“Wow,” said Courtney, coming over to look at the baggie. “Is that local…?”

“Like so local, I grew it on my balcony,” replied Raja proudly.

“And I thought growing tomatoes on my balcony was impressive,” commented Dela.

“No way, I grow balcony tomatoes too!” added Latrice, turning to Dela with a delighted smile. “But only the cherry vine variety, what about you?”

“Well, I just learned about this dwarf variety out of Florida called the ‘micro tom,’" replied Dela, glowing with Latrice’s attention. "And they’re specifically designed to thrive in pots…”

"I can't grow a vegetable to save my life," commented Raja.

“Don’t talk to me about gardening,” deadpanned Bianca. "I hate dirt."

“But then why do you love telling me I'm such a dirty girl…?” replied Courtney smugly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Bianca seemed lost for words, a rare occurrence.

“This is way better than chips,” sighed Adore, happily.

“Raja, you’re really taking the cake tonight,” declared Jinkx, before looking longingly at Dela again. "But apparently vegetables are the way to go…”

"Pretty sure tomatoes are fruits, Jinkx," said Adore, putting her arm around her. Jinkx raised her eyebrows, turning to Adore affectionately. Romance, or maybe it was just drama, was in the air tonight.

Alaska came back out with her bong, clean and polished and ready to rip.

Willam, personally, had been rendered speechless. Everyone went back into motion at once, the group splitting up to grind the buds and roll joints, and load up food on plates, and they all started talking at once. They complimented the dishes, sampled everything, and successfully kept track of what was vegan and what wasn’t, etc. It occurred to Willam, as she stood there with her mouth half-open and her friends milled around her, that this was actually a really successful potluck. Everyone was eating, drinking, smoking, (or choosing not to drink or not to smoke, whatever their preference) and having a great time. Wow.

“Here,” said Alaska, dryly, pushing a plate of food into Willam’s hands.

“Oh, right,” said Willam, and looked down, remembering she was hungry. She wolfed in what was on the plate. Everything was absolutely wonderful, except her canapés, which were dubious.

After talking to Bianca about an upcoming meeting, complimenting Adore’s strange homemade beer, sliding past Latrice and Dela as they bonded flirtatiously over the nuances of tomato husbandry, accepting a hug from Jinkx, and replying vaguely when Courtney asked in a hushed tone if Bianca 'had been flirting with' Alaska, Willam finally made her way over to the sink to deposit her empty plate. Someone, ideally Alaska, would do the dishes tomorrow.

“The canapés were pretty good,” said a low voice behind her, and Willam turned to see Raja with her own empty plate, and a coy little smile on her mouth. “And thank you for inviting me, by the way.”

“Oh, you liked the canapés? Really?”

“Of course I liked them, you made them, after all… and in case it isn't obvious, I can't cook either,” replied Raja, putting her plate in the sink, and leaning in close to Willam as she did so. "I spent like forty-five minutes panicking over what to bring."

 Willam breathed in sharply, wildly aroused by Raja’s sheer proximity, and the sexy smell of weed and perfume that drifted from her. Multiple crevasses were getting damp again, and Willam might need to take a breather…

Raja plucked a joint from her chest pocket, and held it between her slim, tattooed fingers, and said, “So, do you want to go smoke this in the back yard and make out?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” replied Willam, unable to suppress her delight, and barely able to believe her luck. She took Raja’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, while everyone was occupied talking amongst themselves, enjoying the shared gifts of food and weed.

End

#rpdr fanfiction #willam belli #raja gemini #raja x willam #bianca del rio #alaska thunderfuck #rare pair #potluck #group fic #fluff #fic challenge #lesbian au #dartmouth420

[nancypullen]

Lawdy, I’m tired

Those of you who know me also know that I’m a nester, a homebody.  I work hard to make my nest pretty and comfy and then I enjoy it.  For 23 years we lived in a house we built.  I chose every finish and color.  Moving into this house has been eye-opening. It’s a lovely house with plenty of space - but all I see are project$, project$, project$.  Some of them are necessary, but I do wonder if some things that I want to do are the result of living in an HGTV world.  We’re convinced that everything should look magazine ready.  Who lives like that? I’m not seeking perfection here, I just want to walk into my home and feel at home.  For me, that means things need to be sweet and pretty. This whole house is a celebration of khaki.  The walls, floors, and woodwork and various shades of tan.  If you are a big fan of beige and her friends, and I’ve seen some gorgeous homes done in neutral tones, then rock on.  It’s just not my jam, and I need to do my thing. On Mother’s Day my boys showered me with gift cards and I’ve already made one purchase that makes the house feel Nancy-fied.  I bought a bright, sparkly, crystal light fixture for the big walk-in closet in the master bedroom.  It’s gorgeous.  Now I want to paint that closet a pale pink. When the last box is out of the closet I’ll snap some pictures.  That might be in December.  Just kidding.  It only feels like things are moving at a snail’s pace, I have to remind myself that we haven’t even been in the house a week yet.  Most of our first week has been spent taking care of necessary business.  We’re finding out that in Maryland, or at least in our area, you’d better have an appointment for just about everything.  You don’t just walk into a bank and open an account - do you have an appointment?  You don’t just go to DMV (MVA here)  and take a number and get your license - do you have an appointment?  We have been roaming around like a couple of yokels and keep getting sent home to try again another day.  We had appointments for 10am yesterday to swap out our Tennessee licenses for Maryland. After our initial experience and being shooed away because we had no appointment, we sat in the caroutside MVA and I said, “I’m scared to go inside.”  Mickey laughed and responded, “Me too!”  But we screwed up our courage and did it.   I texted my friends afterward and said that I’d had less invasive pelvic exams.  I had to present my Tennessee license, my Social Security card, my passport, a utility bill or proof of account, at least two pieces of mail for our new address - and those had to be some sort of official mail, I couldn’t just drag in a couple Amazon boxes.  Then I took their vision test and answered a slew of questions before having my photo taken (I’m sure I looked like a POW at this point) and receiving a piece of paper that serves as my temporary license.  I was informed that I’d receive my license in the mail if my documents were deemed worthy.  So they did everything but take DNA to prevent a license from falling into the wrong hands, and now they’re just going to drop it in the mail?  Mmmkay. From MVA to banking, they’re serious about appointments.  Not only do you have to have one to talk to anyone.  They want you to check in on your phone when you arrive and then the clock starts ticking.  You’d better get your butt to the counter and be prepared.  Now, that doesn’t mean people haven’t been nice. Nearly everyone we’ve encountered has been so kind and helpful.  I say nearly because the woman at MVA was stone cold.  I did notice she became warmer and more chatty after I clicked through the boxes on her screen to register to vote and I checked Democrat.  Maybe she had a preconceived idea of what someone from Tennessee would be like - she’d be right about 75% of the time. The floor guy arrives tomorrow morning to give us an estimate and hopefully book a date.  I’m sort of in limbo downstairs until the new floors go in.  We did purchase a new sofa and loveseat (we went furniture shopping the first time MVA sent us packing).  We pushed delivery out to May 31st, hoping that we’d have floors by then.  Too optimistic?  Gosh, I hope not.  We’re still sitting in camp chairs every night and I’m ready to fold those up and put them in the garage.  Beats sitting on the floor, and I’m glad we have them, but I’m finding that at 58 the fun wears off more quickly than at say, 38.   Although we can’t really place furniture downstairs yet, I have put a couple things in place. Remember Bessie? She used to hang over the kitchen table.

And this little entry table is in the new entry - my sign will hang on the wall above the table.  I figure it’s best to let any potential visitors know where we stand right away.

I’ve been organizing the kitchen, trying to be smart about what goes where.  I’m pretty sure that this kitchen was built for someone TALL.  I need one of those sliding library ladders to fill these cupboards.  You know those top shelves are going to stay empty. They’re at ceiling height! Can’t keep anything up there except mountain goats.

Not complaining, just don’t know what the heck I’ll do with that space.  Seems wasted on someone as shrimpy as me. Oh well, Mickey is making noise about going up to Lowe’s (did I mention that he’s already cut the grass with his new electric mower? So quiet!).  I hope we can get in without an appointment.  More later! Stay safe, stay well. XOXO,

Nancy

[pesterloglog]

Vrissy Maryam-Lalonde, Tavros Crocker, Vriska Serket, Harry Anderson Egbert

Page 185-188

VRISSY: Wow, our moment in the spotlight is really making the Rounds.

TAVROS: May I look?

TAVROS: I turned my phone off immediately upon aiding and abetting murderers,, since mother most certainly has tracking capabilities for it,

TAVROS: So I haven’t seen anything,,

VRISSY: Eat your heart out, Tav.

TAVROS: Wow,,

TAVROS: That’s quite a lot of attention,,,

TAVROS: It’s getting a bit surreal to see my, uh,, frozen mask of horror on every news site,,

TAVROS: It’s a good shot of you,,, though, Vrissy,

VRISSY: It really is Shockingly well composed.

VRISKA: And the filter doesn’t wash me out. Not 8ad for a human photographer.

VRISSY: I checked that kid’s profile and they’re really pretty decent.

VRISSY: May8e if we all survive this, I’ll look them up and see if they need new models.

TAVROS: That’s the spirit,

VRISKA: How long is this going to take?

VRISKA: I know John is all depressed and long winded now 8ut surely he should have dropped his precious 8oy 8ack home 8y now.

VRISKA: These are crucial minutes we’re wasting.

VRISSY: Oh, is trying on all my 8oyfriend’s accessories not passing the time well enough for you?

VRISKA: Desper8 times call for desper8 measures, Vrissy.

VRISKA: And this is some dire shit.

HARRY ANDERSON: aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.

HARRY ANDERSON: so sorry it took so long.

HARRY ANDERSON: can’t rush a heart to heart, you know how it is.

VRISSY: You actually had a Heart to Heart with your dad? How many times did he Cry?

HARRY ANDERSON: none, actually, i think he got that over with when he was talking to my mom.

HARRY ANDERSON: but god, it was a mess. i had to keep talking to keep him from looking at his phone or turning on the radio.

HARRY ANDERSON: i may have told him more about my deep passions and emotions in the last hour than the whole rest of my life combined, just to keep him from hearing the fucking news.

HARRY ANDERSON: which, by the way, is a complete clusterfuck. they’re asking for tips about your location, blasting the fucking photo everywhere. all of it.

HARRY ANDERSON: great shot of you, though, babe.

HARRY ANDERSON: and tav actually held his own? absolute madman.

HARRY ANDERSON: and you, too, uh.

HARRY ANDERSON: vriska.

HARRY ANDERSON: nice to meet you by the way. i see you’re enjoying my collection of scarves.

VRISKA: Yeah. Are we all here and acqua8nted now? Gr8. What’s next?

#homestuck #homestuck^2 #vrissy maryam lalonde #tavros crocker #vriska serket #harry anderson egbert #homestuck^2 act 1 #page 185 #page 186 #page 187 #page 188

[akaraboonline]

If You're Going To Send Him Nude, Please Follow These Guidelines.

Sending naked pictures used to be such a taboo practice—no one talked about it, but everyone did it. Then people realized sexting was cool, which led to more nudes being sent, which led to women's nudes being leaked on the internet. you want to send him a picture of that body you're so proud of, go ahead — just make sure you follow these rules first. If you're into it, here's how to take and send nudes. If You're Going To Send Him Nude, Please Follow These Guidelines.

How To Take Nudes

Check your lighting and angle

A piece of advice that differs from the rest. I want you to send your best self if you're going to send those nudes! Photograph from above or straight on. Never take a photo from below looking up—at this angle, everyone has a double chin. Instead of harsh fluorescent lighting, try using natural light.

Keep that pretty face out of it.

On that note, keep your face away from it. Send a selfie, send nudes, but don't send your face and nudes in the same shot for the love of the sexting gods, just in case he turns out to be a douchebag who spreads the picture everywhere, or just in case the phone falls into the wrong hands, or whatever other horrible tragedy that can occur, just don't do it. If he doesn't follow that rule, go back to rule #1 and kick him out.

Stay as anonymous as possible.

If your naked body falls into the wrong hands, you don't want to be identified in any way. Turn off your location settings and remove anything in the background that could be traced back to you specifically. In addition to keeping your face out of the picture, cover up any distinguishing features you have, such as birthmarks or scars.

Set your own boundaries.

Nude does not always imply completely naked. Do you want to send him a photo of yourself only in your bra? Don't feel obligated to do anything else. You have complete control over this situation, so do whatever you want. Partially naked photos can be far more appealing than fully naked photos. Try a sexy pose while wearing only your underwear or a really cute bathing suit. Leaving more to the imagination can sometimes excite men more than the alternative.

How To Send Nudes — Rules To Follow

Make sure they’re actually on board with it.

Most guys would be overjoyed to receive a photo of the woman they're interested in half or fully undressed. However, establishing consent is still critical. Always check with him first to make sure he's okay with you sending images like that. "If they respond enthusiastically," Astroglide's resident sexologist Jess O'Reilly, Ph.D tells Glamour. "Respect their boundaries if they say no or sound unsure. Sexting can be hot, but there are plenty of other hot activities to engage in if sexting isn't your partner's cup of tea."

Don’t fall prey to manipulation.

Before you decide to send him naked photos, you should consider why you're doing so. If you're feeling sexy and want to turn him on and build sexual tension between you, go ahead and do it. If he's manipulating you by suggesting that if you really liked him, you'd send him naked photos or that you should want him to look at you instead of other women on the internet, that's a major red flag. You should never be forced to do something you are not completely comfortable with.

Be prepared for other people to see your goodies.

You have a great body, so be prepared for your recipient to want to show off that photo. If you haven't met his friends before, keep in mind that the first time you meet them may not be the first time they've seen parts of you that you don't want them to see. Be prepared for this, but also be a good person and refrain from sharing the nudes you receive with others without their permission.

Triple check that ‘to’ field.

Please, please, please do not send your naked photo to your father or boss by mistake. It is not something that can be reversed. Also, make sure you're not accidentally uploading to social media. It's not as difficult as it sounds.

Don’t send nudes to men you don’t know.

I'd go so far as to say you shouldn't send nudes to someone you aren't already dating or in a relationship with, but we sometimes talk to people online for a long time before meeting in person these days. You could be very close to someone you've never met in person and feel comfortable sharing nudes with them. Only you can decide whether you truly know someone well enough for this level of intimacy, but please don't send nudes to brand new guys. You don't know who they are or what their motivations are, so you need to protect yourself.

Also, make sure they’re over the age of consent.

I know it seems silly to include this, but it is still worth mentioning. Anyone under the age of 18 who sends or receives a nude or suggestive image is breaking the law, according to the Prosecutorial Remedies and Other Tools to End Child Exploitation Today (PROTECT) Act of 2003. This act makes it "illegal to produce, distribute, receive, or possess with intent to distribute any obscene visual depiction of a minor engaged in sexually explicit conduct," so you could get in a lot of trouble if the person you're sending your nudes to isn't of legal drinking age. Hopefully, you're mature enough to date a grown man, but if you're communicating with someone online, make sure you know who they are.

Don’t send nudes under the influence.

Sending nudes under the influence, as with most things, is a bad idea. You're going to forget the rest of the rules. The next thing you know, your entire body, face and all, is in the picture, which you've sent to your boss and then accidentally uploaded to Facebook.

Get collateral.

Personally, I have sent nudes, but not without first receiving one. Even if I'm not particularly interested in getting a d**k pic, I'll still make him go through the effort for two reasons. The first option is to simply make him jump through hoops. The second reason is that I want something on him in case he wants to hold my naked over my head. If you follow my advice and only send naked pictures to men you know, this rule won't apply.

Use a secure app.

If you decide to send him naked pictures, use a more secure messaging app. This means avoiding text attachments in favor of encrypted programs such as Signal or WhatsApp. Your photos should be safe from hackers this way, but you'll need to use something like Privates to prevent screenshots. There's even an app called DiscKreet that hides your nudes behind a password that you both have to enter at the same time in order to view them.

Most important of all, know that you don’t owe anyone anything. 

Never feel obligated to send someone naked. Nobody should ever feel trapped or guilty for not sending nudes. Too often, I believe we comply with things because we believe we must in order for men to like us. The right guy will not put you under pressure, and you will most likely want to send sexy messages and pictures to the right guy. Everything should come naturally.

If You Don’t Want To Send Nudes, There Are Always Alternatives

Sending naked photos isn't for everyone, and that's fine. There are plenty of other ways to flirt with the guy you like without exposing yourself to him in that way.

Send them pictures of you still clothed.

If he likes you, he'll want to see you no matter what you're wearing. Why not send him a photo of yourself dressed in something that makes you feel really hot? You can strike a sultry pose or simply ensure that you look ultra sexy, but you don't have to undress.

Try sexting him.

In any case, words can be more powerful than images. If you don't want to send him naked pictures but are comfortable typing out some of the things you want to do to him, sexting can get you both even more excited than pictures. Send him the dirtiest messages you can think of and see how he reacts.

Invite him over instead.

In any case, words can be more powerful than images. If you don't want to send him naked pictures but are comfortable typing out some of the things you want to do to him, sexting can get you both even more excited than pictures. Send him the dirtiest messages you can think of and see how he reacts.

Send him pictures of your lingerie.

You are not required to participate! Why not show him your adorable matching bra and thong set you just bought? It will also inspire him to use his imagination, which is always a good thing.

Link him to some other sexy stuff.

If you don't want to send him nudes, you can always link him to some other sexy stuff you've seen online. Whether it's an adult video, some Instagram pictures that got you going, or an erotic story that makes you hot. He'll enjoy it.

In Conclusion

Nudity is undeniably popular in today's dating scene. However, it is entirely up to you whether or not to send them. Consider your options carefully before acting. If you're not careful, what appears to be a good idea now could turn into a nightmare. You are not a prude if you refuse intimate photographs. Do what is best for you. Read the full article

[heytherejulietx]

honestly i was pretty much the same! i was able to go to the proms in 2008 — it was amazing!! i was also lucky enough to go and see this thing, i’m not exactly sure what it was but it basically had all the monsters, costumes etc of doctor who & you could get a photo in the tardis. which was 9 year old me’s dream!!

torchwood doesn’t really follow any doctor specifically, like they’re mentioned; but no doctor ever appears on the show — i haven’t seen miracle day so i could be wrong. but practically you could insert any doctor in there.

as for amy & eleven, they basically allowed me to have my bisexual awakening. love that for them!! eleven is also my favourite, closely followed by nine — because nine was my first! and without nine this incredible show wouldn’t even exist; so people that skip him infuriate me.

in terms of ten, this is probably gonna be an unpopular opinion… definitely is, but he’s like second to bottom for me. just because he can be so insensitive sometimes, especially towards martha… not even in the unreciprocated love way, but like the historical racism thing… “just walk around like you own the place.” tf you mean?? my beloved can be racially attacked or worse.

but my favourite two parters come from ten: silence in the library/forest of the dead & human nature/the family of blood.

did you end up seeing the small short p.s? unbelievably i’ve only seen it recently and it’s so beautifully written but should be criminal with how much it plays on the heart strings. <3 - 👼

YOU WENT TO THE 2008 PROMS OMG YOU’RE SO LUCKY!!!! i’d love to experience the music in person it looks absolutely incredible im glad you had such a good time!!!

i know torchwood is like a higher age rating than doctor who and i do plan on watching it eventually for sure. maybe when my doctor who kick fully comes back when the show does later this year :)

NO BECAUSE SAME OMG amy was probably part of my bisexual awakening and i never even realised it omg. same with river though tbh. and eleven just owns my heart he’s just so incredible 🥰 he will always be my absolute favourite. nine was so good!!! his talent is phenomenal tbh and his whole season i won’t skip any episodes they’re all too good. i think my second favourite doctor must be twelve though, especially for the twelve/clara plotline. also we got missy who i absolutely love so much

i love ten but i always feel so sorry for martha :( i hated how her character was just used as another love interest for the doctor because she turned out to be arguably the strongest companion the doctor ever had and her potential was wasted on her unrequited love for the doctor, and the episodes with the master show that because martha did EVERYTHING and it wasn’t really touched on again??? that being said, ten/donna is one of my favourite dynamics of the show and i think that’s my best ten season.

HUMAN NATURE / FAMILY OF BLOOD OHHHH MY GOD WHAT AN AMAZING DOUBLE EPISODE. i rewatched doctor who from 9 pretty recently when i finally watched all of 13 and oh my god family of blood made me cry so much. david tennant’s acting in that episode is phenomenal i really felt for john smith :( and the silence in the library double will always be one of the best things of the show. ESPECIALLY because it sets up arguably the best written plotline of the show; river’s story.

and i don’t think i have seen that?? i’ll have to check it out ty for letting me know :)

also omg i’m so sorry i got to this ask a day late if i answered last night i would’ve been too tired and my reply would have been so bad LMAO

#amber’s asks #👼 anon #doctor who

[myartsing]

They!!

#I’m late to the party but this is inspired by erets halloween photos #If you haven’t seen the photos go check them out they’re so pretty #fun fact eret liked my very rushed no planning revenges pic and I when I saw I was so embarrassed….like king I can draw better than that #so this is the proof that I can actually do better #my art #digital art #click for better quality #eret art #the eret #eret mcyt #eret #eretblr #mcyt fanart #mcyt #the eret fanart #eret fanart #unsure how to tag this

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 9

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky brings you and Mackenzie with him to an important meeting.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Uhhhh hmm work tension, sexual tension, idk Bucky and Mackenzie being annoying as usual lmao

A/N: ALSO I know I haven’t mentioned what the fuck Bucky’s company is all about because c’mon, I didn’t expect I’d get this far lmao so IDK there might be continuity issues or inaccuracies or whatevah, just ignore it lmao it’s fiction. ANYWAAAY, I just want to say how GRATEFUL AND OVERWHELMED I am with the amount of attention that this series is getting. I appreciate every feedback, every ask and every freaking debate about this shit lmfao. I love you guys. I can’t put into words how much I appreciate you all askcnasjkcnak bye

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Don't let Bucky or Mackenzie get to you.

Mark's advice rang in your ears like a chant as you watched Bucky and Mackenzie's exchange about the project. Joining them in the conference room for a major brainstorming session was you and a couple of people from your team with Beverly taking down the minutes of the meeting.

The upcoming project was a huge one, given that Barnes Group of Companies was a huge name in the automobile industry. Meanwhile, Wilson Enterprises is one of the biggest autonomous vehicle technology companies out there. This partnership was one for the books, possibly an industry changer too.

You wanted to be a part of it, wanted to spearhead the entire thing and watching Mackenzie take the reigns on this one was truly making your blood boil.

"That sounds like a nice idea, Kenzie." Bucky praised, nodding his head.

Mackenzie shrugged, "It's what I do, Buck." she said.

"Yeah, it's a great idea. I do have some comments though, if you don't mind?" you asked.

Bucky and Mackenzie exchanged glances before turning to you. You glanced at Bucky for a quick second before ignoring the way he was eyeing you with genuine interest.

"I know that bringing in a celebrity to endorse this brand new model would definitely create noise around the partnership. Although I think that would take the spotlight away from the actual product we're creating here. We want customers to focus on the brand new car model and the technology that Wilson Enterprises will be providing it with, not on the celebrity endorser." you explained.

Mackenzie hummed, "I get where you are coming from. That's a good point, actually. But a celebrity endorser will pretty much do everything for the brand. Have him up on billboards and different advertisements and you're all set." she further explained.

You chuckled, "But then how will people understand what the entire partnership is all about? Aren't we supposed to be communicating a certain message to our consumers? Wouldn't it be better to hold an event to launch the product instead? Invite the press and key opinion leaders to spread the word. Have Bucky and Mister Wilson talk about this partnership. They're famous and powerful enough to get the message across. Why waste the budget on a celebrity when we literally have everything we need to make noise?" you shrugged.

The entire room was silent after your feedback, even Mackenzie wasn't able to respond to your suggestion. Glancing over at Bucky, you saw that he was giving you the look-- the one with half-lidded eyes matched with a head tilt, the one that often resulted to him giving you a very nice reward once office hours are over.

Feeling your breath hitch in your throat, you quickly looked away and shrugged your shoulders, "I mean, that's just my two cents. Having worked here for years, I just based it on my experience. You're the expert here, Mackenzie." you offered a proud smile.

Mackenzie tried to brush it off and turned to Bucky, "What do you think, Buck? I'm still into the idea of hiring a celebrity. That's good publicity. And let's not get worried about the budget now," she said, placing a hand on top of Bucky's that was resting on the table, "I have a lot of connections so I can definitely get an endorser for a much lower rate." she reassured.

"We may have a huge budget for this, but that doesn't automatically mean that we have to use it all up. We can allocate it somewhere else, maybe start a CSR campaign as well? We are, after all, coming out with an environmental-friendly model." you suggested.

You heard Bucky when he took a sharp inhale, bringing his hands up to rub his lips as if in deep thought. He then turned to Beverly, however, his eyes remained on you.

"Take note of everything she says." he reminded her before standing up.

He asked everyone else in the room of their opinions, whether it was your or Mackenzie's idea that the company will go for. The team was divided in half, some of them preferring Mackenzie's celebrity pitch probably because they didn't want to do a lot of work.

Bucky nodded, "Well, I guess we'll have to discuss both ideas with my partner Sam and let's see where we will go from there. I have a meeting with him this afternoon, I need you and Kenzie with me there." he said, looking at your before turning to Kenzie with a charming smile.

Don't let them get to you.

-

You've never wanted for the ground to swallow you up until this moment as you stood behind Bucky and Mackenzie in the elevator. This felt so much more uncomfortable than when you shared it with Bucky after swiping right with him on Tinder. There was still tension and it felt so much worse now because you didn't know whether it was between you and Bucky or him and Mackenzie.

Fucking Mackenzie and her nicely manicured nails which always seemed find its way around Bucky's arm. You eyed her hands as they squeezed his arm, the both of them talking in hushed voices as if you weren't standing behind them.

"I've been dying to try this restaurant, I heard they serve good food. Do you want to go have dinner there sometime this week?" she asked Bucky.

"I'll check my schedule, which restaurant is this?" he asked.

When Mackenzie uttered the name of that restaurant where you celebrated your promotion, you and Bucky choked on your own spits at the same time. Warmth crept up to your cheeks at the same time Bucky's ears reddened.

"Oh, what's going on?" Mackenzie asked with a nervous chuckle as she looked at you and Bucky, struggling with your coughs.

You recovered first and shook your head, "Sorry, I get allergies. Anyway, I've been to that restaurant. They do serve good food, the staff was very hospitable as well. I'm sure Bucky would enjoy it there." you said with a smile, pushing your way past them when the elevators door slid open.

Mackenzie asking Bucky whether he was up for dinner was the last thing you heard. Good luck explaining to her why he's banned from there, you thought to yourself.

Bucky led the way to his car and it instantly brought certain memories back. You weren't going to lie, you missed the fucking and how Bucky always made sure to take care of your needs. Seeing his car was enough to make your thighs clench at the memory of him fingering you as he drove.

His gaze was on you when he opened the door to the passenger's seat, his eyes inviting as you approached him. And just as when you were about to slip in, he turned over to Mackenzie and gestured for her to get in.

What a fucking asshole, you thought to yourself as you took a step back to ride in the back instead. You tried to keep your expression stoic when you saw that Bucky checked for a reaction. He seemed perplexed when he saw that you didn't react that much to what he did.

One hundred points to Gryffindor.

-

The location for the meeting was at a nearby restaurant so you didn't suffer that much during the entire ride. Mackenzie was busy with her phone anyway, typing out messages with those manicured fingers you were beginning to hate.

By the time all three of you arrived, Sam was already there. He donned a navy blue suit and he was rocking it. You'd seen his photos on the internet and knew that he was good-looking, but seeing him in the flesh, you were stunned at how gorgeous he was. Sam stood up when he saw Bucky, offering a kind smile to you and Mackenzie.

You weren't sure whether you were just being assuming or what, but you noticed how his eyes lingered on you longer that it did with Mackenzie.

"Sam." Bucky greeted, shaking his hand before introducing you and Mackenzie.

Sam shook Mackenzie's hand first before he turned to you. You took his hand and introduced yourself, "Mister Wilson." you said.

"Please, just Sam." he told you as he gently squeezed your hand before letting go.

"Have a seat." Sam said to Bucky and Mackenzie before pulling out the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down.

You thanked him and sat down; straightening up, you were met with Bucky's watchful gaze as he sat down across you. Your attention was taken away when Sam asked what you wanted to order, he even suggested a certain dish and immediately went to discuss that it was his favorite thing to order.

This was going to be an interesting meeting.

And interesting it truly was, because you didn't expect for Sam to be so laid-back and easy to communicate with. He wasn't one of those uptight CEOs who were very intimidating to work with. Simply put, he was the complete opposite of Bucky. While Bucky was ice cold, Sam was sunshine and warmth with his attitude.

When it came down to pitching your and Mackenzie's ideas to him, you suddenly got nervous. Sam wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth; from what you've read, he started off working regular jobs before he climbed his way to the top. He was a self-made man and he had extensive knowledge in the marketing industry, having a doctorate degree in the said area.

Mackenzie was the first to discuss her strategy about hiring a celebrity endorser. She said it was fast and straight to the point. When it was your turn, you started off a bit shaky but eventually found your pacing.

"We wanted to ask you how this should go on about. I know that the offer for a partnership came from our end and that we're supposed to pitch the details for it. But we wanted you to be involved in this as much as we are." Bucky further explained.

Sam nodded and let out an amused chuckle, "I really appreciate this, Buck. I was going to ask you if I can contribute with the planning as well. I'm very particular when it comes to marketing our products." he said.

"That being said, I loved both ideas. I think hiring a celebrity endorser is good." he said, making Mackenzie smile proudly.

"But I would rather hold an event to launch the product. You understand the product and what we want to do with it. It's not just a brand new car, it's an innovation and the messaging is very important. I'm very impressed." Sam said, his attention geared towards you.

"Wow, I'm honored." you laughed. "Coming from you, I mean I've read about the marketing studies you did. Pretty big deal to receive a compliment from you." you admitted.

It was meant to be a genuine reaction, really. You had no ill intentions for it, you didn't do it to make Bucky jealous or get the upper hand. However, your passion for your career and area of expertise seemed to favor you. It had Bucky on edge, seeing you and Sam get along so well.

You didn't even need to check for Bucky's reaction because he simply cleared his throat and excused himself to go to the restroom. Mackenzie seemed unbothered though, when Sam favored your pitch over hers. You couldn't read her, sometimes she'd come off competitive but right now, she was unaffected.

When Bucky got back, he was quick to finalize the meeting, "I guess it's a done deal then. We'll work on the details of the launch and maybe we can set another meeting for the major presentation for your approval?" he asked Sam.

"That sounds like a plan. I'm looking forward to working with you." Sam told everyone, although he did seem to be directly addressing you.

"Alright, I'm leaving too." Mackenzie announced after Sam left the restaurant.

"Oh, you're not heading back to the office with us?" Bucky asked.

Mackenzie shook her head, throwing her bag over her shoulder, "I have another meeting. You know how it is with freelance work." she said as all three of you stood up to head outside of the restaurant.

"My Uber's here, I guess I'll see you both sometime this week." she said and waved at you before turning to Bucky and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm counting on that dinner, okay?" she reminded before slipping into her Uber, leaving you and Bucky to head back to the office together.

Alone with Bucky. In his car. The exact same car where plenty of fucking happened. Again, you chanted Mark’s advice in your head over and over again.

Don’t let Bucky get to you. And most of all, don’t cave in.

You quickly slipped inside the front seat of Bucky’s car before he could even open it up for you. The air was thick between you and Bucky and it almost felt like it was suffocating you. Reaching for the seatbelt, you tugged at it but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing to yourself, you tried again but to no avail.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. Seatbelt’s just stuck.” you grunted, using both your hands to pull down at it.

“Here, let me.”

Suddenly, Bucky reached over to your seatbelt and tried to fix it. His face was inches away from yours and you literally felt your insides jump at how you were immediately drowned in his perfume. If you moved forward so much as half an inch, your lips would already be pressing against the corner of Bucky’s mouth. And that thought was sending your senses into overdrive.

Do not. Cave. In.

The loud click of the seatbelt made you relax and thank goodness that Bucky was quick to move away from you, fixing his suit before starting the engine. The office may just be nearby but the fact that you and Bucky were together was making it feel like it was going to be an hour-long drive.

“So what do you think about Sam?” Bucky asked out of the blue.

He was gauging you, trying to get a reaction from you. Maybe he was expecting you to be flirty with your response, or be defensive even? You weren’t going to give him that.

“I think he’s great. Like I said, I’ve read his marketing studies and they were very insightful. I learned a lot.”

Plain, simple and safe. There was no hidden meanings and no malice; you were doing great at this whole not letting Bucky get to you thing. You made a mental note to thank Mark for his advice.

“He seems interested in you.” Bucky said again, shrugging his shoulders a bit and trying to be as nonchalant as he could.

“Well we are in the same field of expertise and I was very straightforward about admiring his skills. I’d be disappointed if he brushed off my ideas.” you slightly chuckled.

“I liked Mackenzie’s idea better, honestly.” Bucky blurted out.

By this time, you had Bucky’s plans figured out. He was coming for your job, using it as a bait to get a reaction out from you. He knew how much your career meant for you, how competitive you were in your field. Whenever his other tactics wouldn’t work, he’d always go for the career aspect.

“It was good.” you agreed, turning to Bucky with a small smile. “I think we can do that for other campaigns. Just not with this partnership. I like her.” you said.

“You do?” Bucky asked in surprise before he cleared his throat upon realizing that he sort of broke his facade.

You shrugged, “She’s a headstrong woman. She reminds me of myself actually.”

If you were alone, you would have given yourself a high-five because that statement truly made Bucky think. His forehead creased as he drove, his hand rubbing his chin and his jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

It was silent inside the car for a brief moment, before it was interrupted by the trilling of Bucky’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket but before he could even answer it, it slipped out of his hand and disappeared beneath his seat.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed, both his hands on the steering wheel as he continued to drive, his attention divided between driving and searching for his ringing phone.

“Shit.” he hissed again, not knowing how to get his phone while driving. He quickly glanced at you before focusing on the road again. “Baby, can you get it for me?”

You almost missed the term of endearment. Almost. It was obviously a slip of the tongue because he genuinely didn’t seem to realize that he called you that. Bucky was more focused on the road rather than processing what he just said. You chose to ignore it the same way you did to the butterflies that erupted in your stomach.

“Yeah, okay.” you said and reached over to him, bending down to look for his phone.

In a split second, your face was right in front of Bucky’s crotch as you tried to reach beneath his car seat. You tried to ignore the bulge that was staring right at you and let your hand do the searching.

“Can you reach it?” Bucky asked.

You straightened up, “No. Can you pull aside?” you asked.

Bucky checked the surroundings and then the rearview mirror, “We can’t. We’re at a no loading and unloading zone.” he explained.

The phone continues to trill and it doesn’t seem like it would stop any time now. You sighed and removed your seatbelt before stretching your body over Bucky, slipping underneath his arms on the steering wheel so you can fully reach under his seat.

From another car’s view, you looked like you were giving him a blowjob. Not that you haven’t done that before, in this same car.

Finally, you felt his phone at the tip of your fingers and stretched further, your free hand coming to grip Bucky’s thigh unintentionally. It was only when you felt his muscles flex beneath his trousers that you realized how near your hand was to his crotch.

“Did you,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Did you get it?” he stammered.

You still have a certain effect on him, how very nice. Biting back a smirk, you hummed in response before pulling back and then handing him his phone casually. Mackenzie’s name was flashing on the screen as the phone continued to ring.

“Sorry, can you answer it and put it on speakerphone?” Bucky asked again.

You shrugged and did as you were told, holding the phone near Bucky as he continued to drive.

“Hey, Kenzie. Sorry, I dropped my phone. What’s up?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, so my meeting got cancelled at the last minute. I was thinking maybe we can grab that dinner tonight instead?”

Bucky stole a quick glance from you but your face remained stoic, your hand steady as you held out his phone.

“Sure, how does around 7pm sound? I can pick you up.” Bucky offered.

“Sounds great. So are we checking that restaurant I was talking about?”

Bucky’s ears turned red again but he quickly recovered, “I was thinking of trying out a different one. I honestly didn’t like their dessert.”

Huh, that was weird. You and Bucky didn’t even make it to--

Fuck, he was talking about you, you realized. Clenching your jaw, you tried to keep calm. He was trying to get a rise out of you, don’t give in. Don’t react. Bucky’s conversation with Mackenzie didn’t last long and ended when they settled the location for their dinner.

The ride back to the office was quiet again, until your phone lit up from a notification. Bucky was already parking in the basement when you checked your phone, an audible gasp slipping past your lips upon reading the notification from LinkedIn.

Samuel Wilson wants to connect with you.

-

The Match Special Tags:

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#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

[lovinkiri]

Okey, hear me out plz. Could you write about Sero, Tamaki, and Bakugou (separately) having a girlfriend who has psionic powers (like the Scarlet Witch) and she is Hawk's protégé. He like to think that he's like some kind of father figure for her so he's suuuuper caring and when he sees her having a smoochie moment with them he goes in PROTECTIVE FATHER mode and he gives the boys the "father talk *ejem...threat*"

Thank u you beautiful living being🌈🧡

Father Figure

Author's Thoughts: I got you bby! I don't write for Hawks so I hope he's at least a bit in character. I hope you don't mind its not headcannons.

Warning: Mentions of violence, threats, etc.

Hanta Sero

You were always like a child to Keigo. The child he'd figured he'd figured he just wouldn't get the chance to have. And though your quirk was different from his, he did a great job training you.

He put in the work, the research, getting to know your quirk. He read records with people of similar quirks, got in contact with those around, all so he could accurately train your ability. He wanted to be the best he could for you.

You grew up so quickly in his opinion. Too quickly.

From graduating high school, to headlining as his sidekick. To finally having a boyfriend.

Keigo was hesitant to meet this boyfriend of yours, but you'd told him how much it meant to you. And he'd do anything for you.

So he played as nicely as he could, staring at you and the boy you sat with.

"So.. Sero.. Are you planning on being a hero?" Keigo looked him up and down with a gaze full of judgement.

Hanta gave a nod, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah. I've always wanted to be a hero. I actually attended UA with Y/n." He looked at you and seeing your smile almost melted the tension.

Almost.

"Hey, Kid, could you go order me something to eat?" Keigo asked you, smiling innocently. Almost too innocently.

You gave him a look. He simply leaned his cheek against his palm, blinking owlishly. "Pretty please?"

Sighing, you stood up and nodded. "Got it. I'll be back." You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Hanta's lips, something that made his smile tighten.

You looked at Keigo and pointed at him. "Play nice. Pretty please?" You crossed your arms. He gave you a sigh and a nod.

So you hesitantly walked away.

And the smile dropped from Keigo's lips.

"I'll just be straight with you, Hanta. She means everything to me. And if you value life itself, you'll treat her like she's everything to you. That girl doesn't love loosely, so this is nothing short of a honor- no, a privilege for you."

Hanta straightened out, nervous about Keigo's sudden change. "I-I understand, sir.."

Keigo gave a nod and leaned back in his chair, smiling again. "Well, I should hope so!" He chuckled softly.

That's when you walked over. "Here. I got you nachos. Did you two find something nice to talk about?"

The man with wings took the nachos. "Thank you, Chicken Wing. We sure did." He looked you Hanta who stiffly nodded.

You, having common sense though, put two and two together. "... Keigo, I asked you to be nice!"

"The nicest thing I can do for you is make sure he treats you right."

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki was afraid.

You'd told him all about Keigo, how protective he could be. And the only thing you'd promised was that he wouldn't touch him.

You and Tamaki were planning a trip to a nice resort.

You'd needed to grab something from Keigo's house, so Tamaki had to sit downstairs with said man.

Well, Keigo sat down. Tamaki stood in the corner, as far as possible. But he couldn't escape Keigo's glare. And if looks could kill..

It wasn't like he had a problem with Tamaki. He knew Fatgum, and the man hsd told Keigo all about his two sidekicks.

In fact, Keigo noticed that just like you'd become a daughter to him, Fatgum treated his sidekicks like his own sons.

The two often bonded over photos they kept in their wallets, sharing stories. Two parents bonding over their children, that's what everyone else saw.

It was from talking to Fatgum that he knew Tamaki wasn't a bad kid. That doesn't mean he wasn't gonna have a talk with him.

"Listen, Kid. I don't hate'cha. You're one of Fatgum's sidekicks and you seem.. Harmless enough."

Tamaki was sure it that should have offended, but Hawks continued either way.

"But when she needs you, I gotta know that you'll be there for her. She doesn't need you to protect her but if she ever does, I gotta know you'll do it. Take good care of her. I'd hate to end your whole career."

It wasn't like he had a problem with Keigo's orders. Tamaki loved you and would never let anything happen to you. Hell, he'd promised himself he'd be a man for you.

Keigo gave the sweetest smile and Tamaki shuddered, moving more into the corner.

It was the threat that scared him. He didn't know if he meant he was gonna kill him or if he was going to destroy his rising hero career.

You finally came downstairs with the object you needed. "Alright, I'm ready-.. Tama, are you okay?" You walked over, concerned.

"I-I wanna go home.."

You glared at the winged man and crossed your arms. "Keigo!"

Keigo leaned back into the couch. "Thanks for visiting you two, it was a pleasure havin' ya."

Katsuki Bakugou

Keigo was doing an autograph signing at the mall, just where you and Katsuki just so happened to have your date.

"Why do you think everyone is crowding over there?" You asked Katsuki, looking towards the crowd of people surrounding Keigo.

You'd thought his signing would be at another mall, not knowing that the venue had been changed last minute.

"No clue, don't care. Probably some big sale or somethin'. Why, you wanna check it out?" He looked at you, the arm around your waist pulling you closer.

You smiled and shook your head. "Nah. Let's just go to the bookstore then head to the park. Oh, actually, I'm gonna use the bathroom first."

You leaned up and gently kissed his lips, him blushing and returning the kiss in embarrassment.

When you pulled away, he mumbled under his breathe. "Idiot, you can't just catch me off guard like that."

Giggling softly, you winked at him. "Nobody saw. They're all crowded around that big sale."

"Tch. Like I care if anyone sees."

With a grin, you went off to the closest bathroom.

What you didn't know was Keigo was watching you through the crowd of people. He looked up to everyone around him and gave them a charming grin. "I will get back to autographs in a moment. Please, grant me a break though."

The crowd seemed disappointed but left him alone and allowed Keigo to walk off.

He approached Katsuki quickly, who paid more attention to his phone.

"Ahem. A moment of your time."

Katsuki looked up and his eyes went wide at the sight of the number two hero. "Hawks? Was that you over with that crowd then?"

"Yeah. I see that you've been headlining. Haven't seen your face this famous since the sports festival." Keigo chuckled, taking a step further.

Katsuki nodded. "I'm making moves, on my grind. Doing what needs to be done to make my mark."

The pro hero nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you're doin great. There's just.. One thing."

He looked at him in confusion. "One thing..?"

Keigo pointed towards the direction you went in. "That girl you were just with. That's my little girl."

The red-eyed boy looked, following his finger. "Um, yeah. She told me."

Then there was a sudden tension.

"And so.. You understand why I won't tolerate you're bullshit."

"...What?"

"You heard me. You're older, so you're probably not the same brat. But from what I hear, those asshole tendencies are still there, and I won't tolerate it when it comes to that girl. You won't hurt her. And if you do, we're gonna run into a bit of trouble."

Katsuki shook his head. "I.. I wouldn't hurt her." Normally, he feared no adult, minus Aizawa of course. But Hawks was looking at him like he was prey.

"Damn straight, idiot." Hawks chuckled softly.

That's when you came back over. "Sorry babe. Oh, hey Hawks! What are you doin' here?"

The two of you shared a hug. "What's up, Nugget? I was signing was autographs. You two?"

You pulled away and grinned. "Katsuki and I were on a date. This is great, I've been meaning to introduce you guys."

Hawks gave a nod. "Interesting guy, he is. But I should get going. Have fun on your date. And Katsuki, have her home by nine."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #x reader #smut #hanta sero #tamaki amakiji #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo

[pan-fangirl-345]

He Would Tear the World Apart

Summary: During a raid, you're taken hostage. Shouto doesn't take the news well, and will do anything to get you back.

TW: kidnapping, abuse, alcoholism mentioned, Enji Todoroki's bad parenting, mental torture, dissociating, injuries, blood, angst, mentioned character death (no one actually dies), a lot of swearing, chains, starvation, dehydration, that sort of thing. If there's anything I missed, please let me know! Also, there is a happy ending, so it's angst to fluff!

A/N: First and foremost, I have no medical degree, I have no idea what it's like to dissociate, so anything medically incorrect is because I am not a doctor, though I am currently working on getting my psychology degree. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, that was not the intention. I have no idea what went through my head to make me write all of this in an hour, but here you go. Also, please read the trigger warnings, and if you don't like it, don't read it. Anyway, I might make a part two to this if anyone is interested. Feel free to spam my ask box, or slide into my DM's if you want. Please interact with me, I adore you all.

Aizawa sighed as he stepped into the conference room. He sat down heavily in his usual seat, and Nezu climbed onto his shoulder, as was custom after so many years, despite the situation they were in.

Again.

"As you have all heard, one of the second year students, (Y/N), has been taken. She was last seen on a raid with the hero she was studying under, and we haven't heard anything from her since this transmission."

Nezu pressed play on a recording and her voice floated through the air.

She was panting, and she was whispering, but Aizawa knew that it was her.

"To anyone receiving this transmission, this is hero-in-training Tempest, I'm pursuing the criminals associated with the gang 'The Numerals'. I've been separated from the others and my comms have been compromised by one of the members. Please, send back-up."

There was a pause where all they could hear was her breathing, and suddenly she yelled, "Hey! You, stop!"

There was static, and then there was nothing.

"We have received information from one of our recon teams that they have taken her to their base of operations, though we don't know exactly where that is yet. We have also, as a school, received a ransom demand. Her parents have yet to be contacted about this."

Copies of the notes were handed out to the teachers, and they all frowned, clearly thinking the same thing Aizawa had thought.

They were a school, what kind of school had this kind of money sitting around?

"What is the girl's quirk?"

"She can create different types of storms in her hands," Aizawa supplied. "As of the end of last year, she could make a hurricane for a few minutes at a time, sometimes a dust storm, and I know for a fact that she was undergoing training over the summer, so it might be more than that now. Under extreme duress, she can make a full scale electrical storm in a building or outside, but only if her life is threatened."

"So, not helpful for getting out of this kind of situation?" one of the other teachers chirped and Aizawa nodded.

"No," he agreed. "Though we should be checking for any strange storms and freak electrical spikes."

"Do any of the other students know about this?" Hizashi asked.

"No, and we need to keep it that way," Aizawa told his husband.

"Why?" Vlad King asked.

"(Y/N) is Todoroki Shouto's girlfriend," Aizawa replied, then waited for that to sink in before he continued. "If he finds out that she's gone, or that's she's been kidnapped and harmed . . . ." He shook his head a few times before he added, "He would tear the world apart to get her back."

"Fuck," someone mumbled, and Aizawa nodded.

Pretty much everyone that was at U.A. knew what that girl meant to Shouto, not to mention the people at Endeavor's agency, and the one that (Y/L/N) was working with.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" Midnight asked.

"We plan a rescue mission," Nezu said. "We're working with nearly every police force in the country to try and figure out where they're keeping her. We have a rough area," he clicked onto a photo of a map, one area to the far north highlighted in bright red. "But there's nothing we can do until then, we need a warrant and evidence."

"The life of a child isn't enough?" Midnight asked. "Especially such a beautiful girl?"

Everyone went quiet, the mood somber and heavy.

"Aizawa, you spent more time with this girl than anybody," one of the third year teachers said, "how likely is it that she'll find a way out on her own?"

"It's a possibility," Aizawa admitted. "She's a very capable student, on par with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, but they know what she can do. Not to mention that sources tell us she was injured, though we aren't sure to what extent. And the longer she spends with them is more time Shouto has to figure out what's happening. Not to mention the other students. We need to get her out as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Hizashi added.

It was no secret that Present Mic and Eraserhead had both taken a liking to you when you were in Class 1-A, all of the teachers liked you, and you were a solid foundation for your classmates.

You were a calm presence, and everyone, Bakugou included, had gone to you for advice at some point, though it was all for different reasons.

You tend to be a level-headed person, but when you felt strongly about something, nothing was going to stop you.

People, Shouto mainly, would start to sense the lack of your presence, and Aizawa wasn't ashamed to admit that he wanted you back where you belonged.

"We can't keep him, Shouto I mean, in the dark about this," Hizashi murmured. "He's one of the best up and coming heroes."

"Not to mention," Aizawa added, "that we plan on flooding the streets with her photo. We've already sent it to all of the major hero agencies involved with the search, Endeavor's being one of them. If we don't tell him, his father will, and we all know how volatile that relationship is."

Everyone in the room shuddered at the mention of the father and son duo and nodded.

"Aizawa, All Might, it might be better if you both told him," Nezu said. "You both have the best relationship with him in this room, and you might be the only two that could hold him back if he reacts violently."

"And he will," Aizawa mumbled, already standing from his chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouto knew something was wrong.

He hadn't seen or heard from you in two days, almost three, and the teachers were acting suspicious. There were fewer of them in the halls, and Aizawa was even more tired than usual, with dark worry bags under his eyes that the students hadn't seen since the Bakugou Debacle in their first year.

The last he had heard, you were going on a raid for some gang members that were selling some sort of hallucinogenic drug based off of a mirage quirk.

You hadn't contacted him or come back since.

"Young Shouto, can we speak to you for a moment?" All Might asked, making everyone look up from what they were doing.

Despite the dorms no longer being completely necessary, (the League had backed off a little bit in recent days, and there hadn't been very many Nomu attacks lately), most of Class 1-A, now 2-A, had moved into the dorms for their second year, you and Shouto included.

"Does this have to do with (Y/F/N)?" he asked, standing quickly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Aizawa said, voice somber.

"Todoroki, do you want us to come with you?" Midoriya asked, getting that look on his face.

"If it's about (Y/F/N) then they all deserve to know too," Shouto said. "And I would feel better knowing they were here."

"Of-Of course," All Might replied, glancing at Aizawa nervously.

"(Y/L/N) has been kidnapped and is being held hostage as we speak," he told them, as blunt as ever.

Aizawa ripped his goggles off right before Shouto blew.

One half of his body erupted into blue tinted flames, and the other exploded in a rain of ice, but they evaporated quickly under Aizawa's gaze, and before any damage could be done to the dorms.

Everything went dark in his head, and his feet were moving before he even had a chance to fully process what his former teachers had been saying to him.

"And where do you think you're going?" Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow as he moved to intercept him.

"To find her," Shouto snarled, and he didn't even recognize his own voice. It was several octaves lower than normal, and there was a rasp to it that had never been there before. "To get my girlfriend back."

"You don't even know where she is," Aizawa said. "We don't even know where she is. Besides, you're too emotionally involved."

"Too emotionally involved?" Shouto said, his voice too calm, his eyes too dead.

Everyone in the room took a step away from him. Everyone except Midoriya and Bakugou.

"Too emotionally involved?" he repeated.

"Oh shit," someone whispered, though Shouto didn't know who it was.

"That is my girlfriend. That is the love of my life and you're telling me that I can't get her back because . . . I'm too emotionally involved? What about when Midoriya went to get Eri? Was he too 'emotionally involved'?"

No one dared to point out that it was nowhere near the same thing, but there was a collective thought about it in the room.

"That is my fucking girlfriend out there," he snapped. "I will work harder than anyone to get her back. I will be the one person wholly invested in making sure that she stays safe."

"And that is why you can't be one of the people in on this," Aizawa told him. "The others are her friends, but you? You are way more than that, and that means that when it comes down to it, you can't make a clear-headed decision on whether it's worth it to try and grab her or not. Because she'll always be worth it to you."

"Damn right she will," Shouto said, staring Aizawa down.

No one had heard Shouto swear this much at once, if ever, depending on the person. He was starting to sound like Bakugou, and the others knew immediately that if you weren't back soon, he was going to blow.

"Look kid, I understand," Aizawa muttered. "I really do. I understand how you feel, I would do that same thing for Hizashi, but I also know what I would do, and we can't have that in the investigation. What would (Y/F/N) want?"

"She would want to be here!" Shouto shouted. "She would want to be teasing Bakugou in the kitchen, making sure that everyone had a blanket for movie night. She would want to be curled up with me on the couch watching bad romance movies that the girls cheated their way into picking out and making sure that I-!"

Shouto stopped as the emotions got lodged in his throat. Tears threatened to spill over as his vision got blurry, and the others were there to catch him as his knees gave out on him.

"We'll get her back kid," Aizawa assured him, crouching down, touching the top of his head softly. "We will get her back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head was buzzing as you came back to consciousness and you suppressed a groan of pain.

Consciousness hurt.

You did a short mental tally of your injuries.

Your ribs were definitely a little bruised, if not cracked or broken. Your lips were split in at least four different places each. One shoulder was definitely dislocated, and the other was hurt in some way. Your left ankle was bruised and swollen, broken probably. Your head probably had a huge gash if the blood running down the side of your face was anything to go by, and you were definitely concussed on some level.

Apparently getting your head slammed into solid concrete by someone who had launched themselves off a ledge would do that to you.

You were in what looked like a basement of some sort. The walls were solid concrete, there were pipes running overhead and dripping on you randomly, which wasn't appreciated, and there was insulation and plaster showing through here and there.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty?"

Your head whipped around to see your kidnapper, but your head protested and so did your stomach, despite the fact that there was nothing in it.

You suppressed a groan, trying to keep your stomach where it belonged.

"Ready to tell us who the informant is?"

"Go straight to hell," you muttered, when you were certain you wouldn't throw up on yourself, glaring at them.

"I still can't believe you were fucking stupid enough to kidnap a child! She doesn't know shit," the other man snapped at the first.

"She has to know something!" the first guy snapped. "She was in on the raid!"

His quirk allowed him to change his voice, so he wasn't using the real one, he sounded like a guy that smoked twenty packs of cigarettes a day.

The other guy you had started calling Sandy in your head. His quirk was similar to yours, he was able to turn anything he touched into sand, and then use it. He mostly made sand storms, and that's how they had gotten the jump on you in the tunnels.

One had blinded you while the other had carried you away, much to chagrin of the Sandy.

"I'm in training," you rasped. "I'm hero-in-training Tempest, from Class 2-A at the school U.A."

They hadn't given you anything to drink in the last two days, from what you could even remember of it, and you knew that you weren't going to last much longer, having been dehydrated when they had taken you.

They had kidnapped you from the raid site, and then spent six hours driving around like morons trying to cover their tracks, before driving for an unknown amount of time before they had dumped you in here. You had been unconscious for the secondary part of the drive, and you knew that with everything going on, there was the possibility you were experiencing retrograde amnesia.

"They don't tell me the important stuff like that. I get told when we're going on raids, and what my part in them is, and that's on the very rare occasion that they happen during my shifts. Most of the time, I'm on patrols around the city," you told them, taking a break in your little speech to spit blood onto the floor by your leg. "You need directions, I'm your girl, but you need to know who's a rat, sorry, I can't help."

You would've shrugged, but your arms were chained to the wall behind you, and every time you moved your right arm it made an awful clicking noise that you knew wasn't natural. Your left shoulder was dislocated as well, meaning your arms were pretty much useless.

One leg was operational, but barely. You were so far out of commission you wouldn't be surprised if U.A. kicked you out to recuperate.

U.A. wouldn't, and couldn't, pay the ransom. You knew that. The best hope you had was that you could act your way out of this, or that they planned a raid to get you out.

They had done it for Bakugou, why not you, right?

Shouto passed through your thoughts, thoughts about what he might do to get you back, but you shut them down as soon as they entered your head.

You were trying to keep him in a safe place.

You hoped that Shouto never learned about this. About where they were keeping you, what they had already done to try and get you to talk.

He was your safe place now, safe and away from this building, wherever you were. You thought maybe if you could keep him out of your head here, it was a way of protecting him from the reality of your situation, even if he already knew.

"She's a kid," Sandy snarled, pointing at you viciously. "She's a kid. You know the Boss' rules about kids and you broke almost every one of them!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Guys, hey, I hate to interrupt," you interjected, "but I really have to go to the bathroom."

They both stared at you for a moment before Sandy asked, "Do you promise to not try and escape?"

"Buddy, I don't know if you've looked recently, but I doubt I'm doing anywhere," you quipped. "My ankle is obviously demolished, my head was cracked open like an egg, thanks to your buddy Darth Vader over there. Not to mention, I'm dehydrated and starving, and don't even get me started on how much my ribs are killing me right now, probably literally. Do I look like I'm in any shape to try and escape?"

Sandy frowned, glancing at you like this was the first time he was seeing the extent of what had been done to you.

"Alright, I'm going to undo the chains, but you can't try to escape, you'll only make things worse for yourself."

"Death seems preferable at this point," you grunted, trying to hide the pain you were in.

"Don't you have healing supplies?"

"How am I supposed to use them when I can't move my fucking arms?" you asked, wiggling your fingers in emphasis. "And you morons confiscated my belt, which had them all in it! You know what my quirk is! What did you think was in it? Explosives? No, I leave that to Dynamight."

"Fuck," Sandy muttered.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" the voice dude asked.

"Because if she dies then that means no money and no chance of surviving prison again. Do you know what happens to people who mess with kids in prison? Nothing good."

You logged that little piece of information away, trying to focus on their features, but with your concussion, your eyes weren't the hottest.

"Can you move?" Sandy asked you as he worked on unlocking your chains.

You couldn't help the cry of pain when your arms dropped to your sides, tearing stinging your eyes as you bit into your already roughed up lip.

"Shit. Can we get a medic in here?" Sandy shouted.

A door opened and someone stuck their head in. Sandy repeated his demand, and the door shut again.

"Why are you doing this?" you whimpered, trying to keep your voice even.

If they were sadists, any fear or pain you showed only gave them what they wanted.

"Because we don't have a choice," Sandy said. "The Boss gave us somewhere to belong, he gave us a place off the streets. We owe him. We would've died."

"Shut up," Smoker snapped, and you glanced at him.

"I have a headache, and it comes and goes as you talk. Please, for the love of all things holy, shut up," you hissed to Darth Vader, wanting to touch your head, but not being able to for multiple reasons.

Sandy touched your shoulder lightly and you cried out again, moving automatically to hit him, but your other arm twinged, bringing more tears to your eyes.

"Sorry," Sandy murmured, pulling his hands away.

You took a shaky breath, waiting for the pain to dull before you said, "There's no way I'm moving from this spot without being in pain, and I'm definitely going to need help."

"Holy fuck, you two morons were two lucky blows away from killing her."

You glanced over to see someone with a med kit strolling leisurely down the stairs.

"Hello Tempest," they said, giving you a bright smile.

"Hello Med Kit," you replied, giving them a grimace.

"You can call me Himo for now," Med Kit said. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"You're going to whether I want you or not, but sure, go ahead," you muttered. "It's not really like you can make this any worse."

"I could break almost every bone in your body and keep you alive while doing it, so I could do so much worse, but that's not the goal here," Himo told you, setting to work.

"So what is the goal? Since I'm assuming that I'm never going to get out of here," you said, glancing around.

"Why do you think that?" Himo asked, ignoring your first question.

"Because I've seen your faces, I know your quirks, I know a general area of where I'm being kept, unless someone used a teleportation quirk of some sort. I know the school won't pay the ransom, my parents don't have that kind of money, and my boyfriend's father would never pay to see me safe and sound. He would probably twist his son's grief to get him to be compliant," you grumbled. "Besides, I'm a hero, hero-in-training, whatever, it's all semantics. I'm basically your arch-nemesis. Isn't that what every villain wants? To kill the person in their way?"

"We aren't villains," Sandy muttered.

"You break laws put in place to protect people, you attacked a minor, then kidnapped her after assaulting her, and you are trying to get a ransom for me," you pointed out. "That doesn't really scream 'hero' or 'civilian' to me."

"Have you ever though about who writes the rules? About how money can manipulate everything? The system is flawed, and we are going to make sure people know it," Darth Vader snarled. "Do you understand how unfair the world is?"

"Don't talk to me about the world being unfair," you whispered, your voice dropping, every muscle in your body tensing. "My boyfriend loves his mother more than pretty much anyone in the world. Her parents, his grandparents, arranged a quirk marriage, and she had four children she didn't necessarily want. Her husband drove her to near insanity, enough so that she poured a kettle of boiling water over my boyfriend's face because he looks like his father. His father has already managed to get one of his children killed, and he considers the other rejects because they don't have the quirk he wanted them to have. He's a different kind of monster, and he's not in jail.

"My own father verbally and mentally abused me for as long as I can remember. My mother and I were zombies until recently, when I decided I had had enough and my mother finally found the courage and will to leave his sorry ass in the gutters where it belongs. My father always had enough alcohol in his system to make him a human molotov cocktail. I had little to no self esteem until recently, and I still struggle to understand and comprehend that I am worth love. I am still learning to respect myself. So you don't get to preach to me about how unfair the world is buddy, we all know," you snarled.

"The hundreds, thousands of kids out on the street know. The women and men that get raped, and continue to see their own personal monster roam free know. The kids that get hit every day for not being what their parents want know. That's why people like me exist, to put away the monsters wearing human skin. That's why my friends and I try so hard to be heroes. It's not about the glory, or the money. It's about bring people to justice, it's about making sure that people feel safe. It's about giving other people something that we never had."

Silence echoed through the room as what you said sank in.

You hadn't meant to burst like that, but you were sick and tired of these guys using their shitty lives to make other people's lives shitty too.

"Why are you a hero, Tempest?" Himo asked.

"Because I want to save people," you replied. "I just told you that. I want to make sure that every child like me knows that they don't have to be their parents, that there is another option. I don't want the abused becoming the abuser. I want to make sure that the people doing the bad things get put where they belong. I want to help the kids that have nothing to lose, I want to help them realize that they have everything to gain. I want to give people like you hope."

There was no use in lying to them, they were probably going to kill you anyway. Besides, it might help you build rapport, and they might let you go when they realized that they made a mistake.

"People like us?"

"People who think that there isn't another option. People who have been shown nothing but the horrid parts of the world, the horrible parts of humanity. People who don't know what it's like to be loved completely by somebody, both good and bad. People who think that they owe someone who isn't worth one minute of their time. Good people who strayed too far from the path."

There was silence for a few minutes before you said, "I've seen a lot of real villains, people who aren't capable of basic human emotions, I've seen people who have no humanity in their eyes. They are the villains, they are the monster under our beds personified. People like you, you just simply wandered. You aren't lost, you're just further to the side than some other people. It would be easy for you to walk the path again."

You paused, thinking over what you said, then added, "Well, it wouldn't be easy necessarily, but it would be worth it."

"You still have the naivety of a child," Vader snarled.

"Call me what you want, naive, innocent, optimistic, I've heard it all, but in the end, I'm right," you told him.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, at the end of the day, I know that every life I save isn't just one life," you replied. "That young woman I saved, she might have kids some day, or foster a child that needs a loving mother. That child I shoved out of the way might help the suicidal child in his class. Every life I save touches other people's lives. As hard as it is to believe, no one is ever truly alone in the world. Every smile I give to a stranger might make their day, might help them live long enough to find the thing that makes them happy. That's why I'm a hero."

More silence.

Your face heated, but there was something in their faces that told you they had never thought about it that way before.

"So, is there anything you can do to heal me?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Like I said, these guys were two lucky blows away from killing you, I'm surprised that you're still alive, actually, everything considered. Your head will heal on it's own, but there might be a little scar left. However, your ribs might take longer. Three are cracked, and four are bruised. Your ankle might need surgery to get it back to the way it was. It's definitely broken, and there might be small bone particles floating around in there, I'm not entirely sure, my quirk isn't that detailed I'm afraid. Not to mention that, from what I can see, your shoulders just need to be popped back into place. One was dislocated more than the other, but it will hurt."

"Can't hurt worse than the state I'm in now. So what can you do? I'm assuming that taking me to a hospital is out of the question."

"Well, I can treat the cut on your head, relocate your shoulders, and I can see if someone else can take a look at your ankle, but everything else will have to heal on it's own."

"So there isn't much?"

"Nope, we don't have the equipment needed for your ankle here, and, like you said, no hospitals."

"Fucking gre- wait a minute, to you guys still have my belt?" you asked, perking up a little.

"Yeah, it's over here," Sandy said, walking over into the back corner, pulling your med belt out.

"Hand it over. I promise there's nothing too harmful in there. There are some painkillers, but it's just Midol. It's all medical stuff," you said, wincing as Sandy dropped it into your lap.

You opened it, taking out a small device.

"What does that thing even do?" Himo asked, looking at it warily.

"It's not a communicator or anything," you hurried to explain. "I made some friends in the support courses, so I asked if they could make me a device that works like an X-ray would. Himo, take it."

He took from you gently, which you appreciated, and turned it all around, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Alright, see that little button on the top left, yeah, right there. Click that button twice, like hitting the home button of a phone."

Himo did as he was told, and the screen blinked to life.

"Alright, hold the over my hurt ankle, and it should be able to show what's going on. Or," you added, "it'll blow up. Hatsume is kind of unpredictable like that."

Himo's hands tightened on it, but he did what you asked, and was clearly surprised when a detailed X-ray appeared on the screen.

"Holy shit, it worked!" you cheered, grinning.

"You have some very talented friends," Himo told you.

"I know right? She's a little quirky, but she's great at what she does!"

"How are you able to smile right now?" Sandy asked, looking at you with something akin to wonder.

"Don't get me wrong," you started. "I'm fucking terrified, but there's not much I can do in this situation. Besides, from what I can tell, other than the initial assault, you people don't want to hurt me. You want something from me. In this scenario, what I'm guessing, is that you want something from me, so you're going to be nice, and make me want to help you out, or make me feel like I owe you one, and then, when I don't comply, you'll either torture me to try and get what you want until I die, or you'll just kill me right off the bat."

Himo winced, and Sandy twitched.

"You guys really hate the thought of me dying, don't you?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, despite the protect of your brain. "Is this one of those scenarios where kids should be off limits?"

"We may be bad guys, but we have certain priorities," Sandy admitted. "Kids are a sore spot for most of us."

You nodded slightly. "I can see why. You guys said something about being on the streets? I know that sometimes kids band together, that's how they survive. I'm assuming you've lost friends."

"Smart kid," Himo murmured, eyes darting over the X-ray.

"Sometimes they give us profile training," you admitted. "Besides, I've been working on my psychology degree."

"Wicked smart kid," Sandy quipped.

"Alright, so I can set your ankle, there isn't anything wrong with it other than the obvious fact that it's broken," Himo said, handing the device back to you. "Riko, I'm gonna need your help."

"With what?" Sandy asked, looking skeptical.

"Can you hold her legs down? I need to relocate her shoulders before I do anything with her ankle, just because I have a feeling she attacks when she's hurt."

"Good instincts," you muttered.

"I'm a doctor," he confessed, grinning. "You learn a thing or two."

"Sorry about this," Sandy said.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," you told him. "As long as that's all you do I'll considerate your way of trying to make up from everything else."

Sandy snorted, holding your legs just below your knees.

"This is going to hurt," Himo warned.

"I would be surprised if it-"

You clenched your teeth to try and keep your scream in as Himo popped your right arm back into place.

The rest of your body bucked, trying to roll away, but Sandy, Riko, had a firm hold on you.

You panted as the pain started to fade a little in your arm.

"Sorry, I've found it works better when people aren't expecting it," he said.

"Son of a bitch," you gritted out, spitting blood off to the side. "I bit my tongue."

Riko chuckled, shaking his head.

"Alright, now for the other one," Himo murmured. "I really don't understand how you managed to take this much damage."

"At least I only broke my ankle. My friend Deku has broken both arms, both legs, and both hands before. I think he's broken almost every bone in his body sa-"

Himo popped your other arm back into place and you couldn't stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks at that one, your jaw almost cracking with how hard you clenched it to try and keep the noises in.

"Fucking fuck," you muttered when the pain pulsed into something a little bit more bearable.

"Better?" Himo asked, prodding your shoulders.

"Yeah," you admitted, moving them slowly. You dug around in your med belt, pulling out two pieces of metal and a small bottle.

"What is that for?" Himo asked.

You pushed a button on the metal, and they extended to the required length.

"It's for a splint, or a cast," you told him. "Once you set my ankle, you put the metal on either side, and I can spray this one. It's a special kind of plaster, don't ask me how it works, I have no idea what's in it, but it'll hold until my ankle is fully healed, then it'll fall off on it's own."

"Amazing!"

"Heroes, when the respond to disasters, often have to set up triages until other emergency responders can arrive, so we have to know a little bit about basic medical treatments in emergencies like that. So a lot of us have belts and such to keep medical stuff in. I also keep duct tape and glue in here. You never know when you're gonna need it."

You pulled out some painkillers, popping two in your mouth, taking them dry.

"How?" Vader asked, sounding horrified.

"Hate to break it to you, but when you're a teenage girl, especially one learning to be a hero, when you don't always have time for water, you learn to take pills dry."

"TMI," Vader muttered.

"Hey, jackass, you asked," you told him.

Riko and Himo chuckled.

"Alright. Riko, see if you can get a hold on her, this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Himo warned. "Li, hold her other leg down."

"Don't use my fucking name!" Vader shouted.

"You know, I wouldn't have known that was your real name if you hadn't reacted that way," you told him. "Heroes are also trained to pick up on certain behaviors like that."

Li grumbled, but did as he was asked.

Himo situated himself, then said, "Get ready."

The pain had you blacking out before you knew what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I knew something was wrong," Shouto muttered for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. "I should have gone with her!"

"Dude, it wasn't even your mission," Kaminari told him. "There was nothing you could've done for her."

"Yeah you half-and-half bastard," Bakugou chimed in. "Besides, we're gonna get her back, so shut up and try and think of something useful."

Everyone had leapt into action when it had sunk in that you were in serious danger. It didn't take long, and no one wanted to acknowledge that it was worrisome.

They had split up into teams.

Midoriya, Bakugou, Shouto, Kaminari, and Kirishima were working on the maps that had been given to the students.

Momo, Jirou, Uraraka, Mina, and Tsuyu were going over the interviews with raid members, trying to gather up information on what had happened, trying to see if there was a traitor among them, other than the undercover agent that they had been told about.

Tokoyami, Ojiro, Shoji, Sero, and Koda were helping the other heroes do recon missions and patrols in the area where they suspected you were being held.

Sato, Shinso, Hagaruke, and Iida were working on the case files of all the known members of the gang that you had been going after. Surprisingly, those four were the only ones able to hear about the things that some of the gang members had done.

Hagakure was crying softly to herself as she read, but no one could pull her away from the files.

"I have to know," she kept saying. "I need to know about what they did so I can help when we get her back."

Sato didn't know you as well as the others did, so he was a little less effected. He were itching to get you back, but the others had spent far more time with you personally.

Shinso, on the other hand, was powering through them, wanting to know what he had to avenge when they got to that building. He wanted to know what they might be doing to you so that he could have far more reason to get them arrested.

Iida just wanted something useful to do.

"They just cleared building seven in section 3-C!" Aoyama called from his spot the progress computer that they had set up in the common room.

Aoyama was in charge of letting them know what had been cleared, what was under suspicion, and what they had ruled out completely.

"Fuck, that pretty much clears that grid section," Bakugou muttered, forcefully crossing an abandoned apartment building off his map.

"They might need to expand their net," Midoriya added. "No one knows where she is. There's the possibility that they aren't even in that area."

"I hate this!" Shouto burst out. "I feel useless just sitting here!"

"It's either this or you get stuck back on the sidelines," Bakugou reminded him and he clenched his fists.

He just wanted you back safe and sound by his side, preferably with his arm around your shoulders.

He'd been trying to remember the last thing he said to you before you had gone on that raid, but he couldn't remember.

He hoped that it was 'I love you' or something similar, but not knowing was killing him.

"Todoroki-kun," Midoriya said, laying a hand on his arm. "We will get her back."

"Yeah, we aren't giving up on her, no way in hell," Kaminari added, eyes flashing gold in the lights of the common room.

"She never gave up on us, it's not manly for us to give up on her," Kirishima chimed in.

"I know," Shouto said. "I trust you all."

It went unsaid, but understood, that when it came time to get her back, Shouto was going to be the one leading the rescue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Himo came into the basement and said, "Do you think you can walk?"

"On one leg maybe. Why?" you asked.

Your ankle was wrapped in the cast that you had taken out, but your ankle was feeling a little better than it had been. It still throbbed every once in a while, but it could've been worse.

"The boss wants to see you."

"Oh, the big boss," you griped, rolling your eyes. "He wants to see me he can come down here himself."

Himo hesitated, but he nodded, heading back upstairs.

You had known that there was an undercover agent in the gang, but you had yet to figure out who it was.

Every member of the gang seemed to know that you were there, that, or they were much bigger than you had anticipated.

So far, Himo and Riko were your top two suspicions, given that they were the only two that were actually kind to you, but you had a small part of you that wasn't sure.

The door opening a few minutes later announced the arrival of the leader, and you steeled yourself.

"You fucking morons," the man muttered, rubbing his eyes like he had a headache. "What did I say about kids?"

"Sorry Boss, but we didn't have a choice," Li said, stepping out of the shadows.

He had been stay with you for the entire week, and it was clear that you didn't have the kind of rapport with him that you did with Riko and Himo.

You had been trying to make a storm, something, to let the someone know where you were, but you had idea of knowing whether it was working or not. You were in the experimental stages of the large storm capabilities of your quirk, and you were completely drained at the moment.

"What's your name kid?" the man asked.

His hands were covered in rings, and scars littered the little bit of skin his tailored suit showed off.

You had seen Shouto in high class clothes for gatherings that he was required by social convention to attend, so this guy was either rich, or so far into debt that he was on the run from the banks.

"You can call me Tempest," you said.

"(Y/N). Second year at U.A. Class 2-A student, and one of the new public favorites," Li said.

"Aw, you looked me up, how sweet," you taunted. "But like I said, I prefer Tempest, it sounds cooler."

"Far enough," the boss said.

He was wearing a mask that covered the top half of his face, and a fedora type hat, so there wasn't much to catalog, but you did anyway.

"Are you here to kill me?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, despite the way it made the chains rattle.

"No, not if you give me what I want," the man said. His voice was deep, and he looked like he was in his early thirties, but you weren't entirely sure.

"I don't know who your rat is," you stated.

"How do you know that's what I wanted?"

"When I woke up on day two, your Sandy man and Darth Vader over there were talking about it. Vader actually asked me about it." You paused, then said, "You guys do realize that I'm right under an intern right? I'm not high enough to know about UC's. Think of me like the intern's intern. I'm lucky I even got to go on the raid."

The man watched your for a moment before he said, "I hate it when people tell me the truth. It means I don't get to have any fun."

"Sucks to be you then," you replied. "So what happens now?"

"You get broken," the man said, reaching out to touch your forehead.

"Good luck with that," you muttered when he pulled away.

Then the visions started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Everybody get up!" Aoyama shouted. "Up, up, up! Someone called in a noise complaint late last night!"

Class 2-A poured into the common room.

Shouto, Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero ran in with no shirts on, and Kaminari fell trying to pull his shorts up over his Pikachu boxers. Shinso was already in there sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee clad in a t-shirt with a cat meme and dark jeans.

The girls poured in in a mix of pajamas and hoodies that they had stolen from the boys over the last week, their hair a mess and dark bags under their eyes.

"What's going on?" Shouto asked. He knew that his bags were darker than anyone's, and no one had seen him sleep in almost three days.

"Late last night someone called the tip line anonymously to complain about screaming from a condemned building smack dab in the middle of section 1-A. Someone checked into it and there has been a lot of activity in that area lately," Aoyama explained.

He had given up trying to keep up the sparkly attitude, though some of the French had stayed.

"Is there anything else?"

"Guess which gang has been operating in the middle of that area?" Shinso said, having stayed up with the sparkly blond.

"The Numerals," Shouto said.

"Tres bein!" Aoyama replied.

"Have the heroes been notified?"

"They started a conference at three this morning," Shinso said.

"And no one told us?" Shouto asked.

"They wanted to let us sleep. They know how hard we've been working," Shinso replied.

"I'll sleep when we get her back," Shouto snapped, heading for the conference room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa shouldn't have been surprised when his former students streamed into the meeting that was being held to rescue (Y/L/N), but he was.

Though that might have been because most of the boys were shirtless and the girls were clad in their pajamas, and hoodies that were clearly not theirs.

"Catch us up," Shouto demanded.

"Shouto, what are you-"

"Shouto, you are aware that this is merely to scope out the building, correct?" Aizawa interrupted, glancing at his former class.

"We don't fucking care," Bakugou snarled. "You're going to catch us up, and you're going to let us join, because she's our friend, and we're the strongest team that you could ask for."

"We can't, in good conscience, let kids into-"

"Do we need to mention all the times that the League has attacked us in the last year? Not to mention Gentle Criminal, Stain, the whole Chisaki ordeal, should we go on?" Midoriya asked, frowning.

Endeavor went to talk again but more students started to talk.

"We can help," Kirishima chimed in. "We want to help."

"Besides," Kaminari added before any of the adults could chime in, "the more hands you have the better it'll be. We can capture more members and get her back. It's a win-win scenario. Gangs are known to be disorganized. If you can get word to your informant about a stealth mission, you might be able to get both them and (Y/L/N) out with minimal risk to them both."

"And we have useful quirks," Jirou supplied. "Kaminari can kill any power they have, Bakugou and Midoriya are good for taking stuff down, so are Kirishima and Sato. Todoroki is more than capable of restraining anyone that he comes across, and I can tell you where people are, how many and so on."

"Not to mention I can make communicators that are much harder to disconnect," Momo piped up.

"People don't really know about me yet," Shinso said, hands in his jeans pockets. "They don't know my quirk, so they're much more likely to fall for me, which is more than helpful for you, since it makes fighting back much less likely."

"We want to get her back, me more than anyone," Shouto said, arms crossed over his chest. "We can useful. Besides, I don't think I need to mention all the times that we've stepped in without your permission and gotten the objective completed while keeping everything legal."

Aizawa sighed.

"We really should just let them help," he said. "They're going to keep pushing, and I don't want any of them expelled and arrested. They are some of the best up and coming heroes. Besides, they all make good points."

"I feel the need to point out," Midoriya chimed in, "that the more of us you take, the more heroes you can have causing a distraction, or the more you can release to recharge and work on other things that are starting to take precedent, like the drug that the gang is manufacturing and selling."

There were more whispers, and finally the heroes sighed.

"Alright, but you're working with Eraserhead and Endeavor, since they're going to be leading the mission with Fatgum."

"We can work with that," Bakugou said. "But we want permission to engage if necessary."

"You would have that anyway," Fatgum said.

"We also want credit if we find her," Sero added. "We aren't going to let possible attackers think that we're defenseless. They take on one of us, they take on all of us."

"That can be discussed," Present Mic assured them.

"This should go without saying," Shouto began, "that I get to ride with her in the ambulance when we find her."

"Everyone assumed that anyway," Midnight told him. "Don't worry Todoroki, no one is going to keep you away from her."

Endeavor opened his mouth, but sharp looks from everyone had him shutting it again.

The students nodded.

"Now catch us up," Bakugou demanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't remember when you had stopped processing things the proper way.

You couldn't remember a time before the nightmares.

They talked to you, they wanted you to know about an informant. Sometimes Shouto appeared, smiling and reaching his hands out to you. Sometimes your father walked in, drunk as always, shouting at you to do better.

You retreated in on yourself.

You turned to that small part of your brain that you had made to wait out the fighting, the yelling, the hurt. You retreated into the part of yourself that you knew no one could ever enter but you.

Shouto was there like he always was. He wasn't entirely your Shouto, but he wasn't the nightmare either.

He was a figment of your imagination, but he made things a little bit better.

"I'll come," he assured you. "I'll find you."

You were lying in a meadow, a small clearing surrounded by trees that were bent over you to create a small dome of shade.

"I know you will," you told him, reaching your hand out to him.

He touched his fingers to yours, but you couldn't feel it.

You remembered someone in the past calling it dissociating, but you weren't a professional yet.

You had never done it at U.A. since you had never felt the need, but this wasn't something that you would ever be able to forget how to do.

You could still see the nightmares, but it was like it was far away, background noise.

"Do you think that you'll ever go back?" Shouto asked. "Do you think that you'll ever go back to me?"

"Maybe, if the nightmares ever stop. If I think that it's actually you that I'm going back to," you said, watching him carefully.

"Do you remember the last thing you said to me?" Shouto inquired.

"Yeah. I said, 'I'll always come back to you'. Why are you asking me that?"

"Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You said, 'Promise me you'll be safe?' I was about to go on the raid, and you were upset about not being able to go with me."

"Do you promise to remember that?" Shouto asked.

"Yeah, I promise," you told him, smiling a little.

"(Y/F/N)! Oh, darling, what did they do to you? (Y/F/N), can you hear me?"

The nightmare was getting better at looking like the real Shouto, and this one had the same voice.

"Go to him," the dream Shouto said, sitting up.

"Why?"

"(Y/F/N), blink if you can hear me," Shouto demanded.

You forced yourself to blink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouto couldn't describe to absolute relief it was to see you blink.

He had seen the discarded cast off to the side of you, and he wasn't sure whether you would be able to hear him in that state.

"Hey darling, come on, we're gonna get you out of here, I promise," he murmured, touching your face lightly.

"Sh-Shouto," you rasped. "Shouto, wh-what was the last thing that you said to me?"

"Darling, don't try to speak," he told you, trying to figure out how to cut through the chains without hurting you.

"Shouto, what was the last thing that you said to me?" you asked again, reaching up to grab his hand.

"'Do you promise me that you'll be safe?'" he said, eyes roving over you to try and see any wounds. "That's what I said to you."

Your eyes widened in surprise before tears slipped out of your eyes.

"Sho, it really is you!"

"Darling, hey," he murmured, touching your face softly.

You were sobbing now, fully body sobs, and Shouto wanted so badly to take a moment to just relish in the fact that you were safe, but he had to get you out of there as soon as possilbe.

"Tsukuyomi," Shouto called. "Can Dark Shadow cut through chains?"

"Yes."

"I'm on the basement level of the building. I have Tempest, can you meet us down here?"

"On our way," Tokoyami assured him.

"Guys, I have her, she's in the basement with me, we're getting her out as we speak," Shouto declared over the coms, and he was met with cheers and relief that you were okay.

"How many of you are here?" you asked, wiping at your face.

"The whole class is here," Shouto told you. "Most of the hero agencies sent representatives that are here too."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, people were really upset that you were taken, especially with the role you played in apprehending Numeral gang members on the last raid, and the part you played in bringing the drug to light."

"Wow," you murmured, making Shouto laugh.

"Hold on just a little bit longer darling," he coaxed. "Our friends are on the way."

"I can't believe that it's really you," you whispered, touching his face softly, rubbing your thumb over his scar the way you did.

"Oh darling, what did they do to you?" he asked.

"For the past couple of days they've been trying to break me, they want to know who the undercover agent is. I don't know who it is though, so the leader of the Numerals used his quirk on me. He makes the drugs. His quirk makes you see things, makes you feel things. It's like he can burrow into your head and take the images out of your head."

You shuddered in his arms and he frowned as Tokoyami appeared in the doorway.

"Hello (Y/L/N)," he said, smiling at you.

"Hey little bird," you replied, your smile watery with emotions.

"Can Dark Shadow get through those chains?"

"Of course," Tokoyami told Shouto.

"Hello starlight," Dark Shadow said.

"Hi Dark Shadow," you murmured, stroking the sentinent creature before he tore through the chains like paper mache.

You rubbed at your wrists for a moment before you threw your arms around Shouto, burying your face in his neck.

"Sho," you sobbed, tears back full force.

"I've got you darling," he murmured. "I've got you. You're free, you're free."

You nodded, arms tight around him.

Shouto scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, letting you sob as much as you needed to.

The paramedics that had been called to the scene hadn't managed to get Shouto to let go of you, and you showed no signs of letting go of him, so they had managed to do everything they needed to with you clinging to him.

"She'll need physical therapy, not to mention professional trauma therapy. She's malnourished and dehydrated, not to mention suffering from exhaustion and a very severe concussion. Her ankle needs to be further inspected, and there's some internal damage, some cracked ribs that might need to be taken care of, but we can do some more thorough work at the hospital. I assume that you're coming with her?" the paramedic asked when he was finished.

"Yes, I'm her boyfriend," Shouto said.

"Alright, well, you have to let go of her so that we can get her hooked up to an IV and make sure that we don't make her concussion any worse. You really shouldn't have moved her, but there's only so much we can do about that now," the other paramedic told him.

"I-It's okay Shouto," you murmured, pulling away from him enough to wipe your face off.

Your breathing was ragged, and you looked like you wanted to go back to being unconscious, but you allowed the paramedics to get you onto an IV and a bed with a neck supporter.

"Shouto, will you stay with me?" you asked.

"Always darling," Shouto said, gripping your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forthree weeks afterwards, you were stuck in the hospital. Your ankle hadn't been as bad as it had been feared, you back on your feet in a week, and you were undergoing physical therapy.

You were back to a normal diet, and you were going to therapy three times a week. Well, the shrink came to you, but semantics.

Your class visited every day, bringing you your homework and recorded lessons, most of them crying, and more than elated that you were back, safe.

Shouto, after being given permission by your parents, was being counted as a family member, and he had been practically living in the hospital with you.

For the first week, he had refused to leave your hospital room. He had slept curled around you, despite the machines that you had been hooked up to, he had missed class, staying with you and keeping you company.

There was also the reason of him being the only one to be able to calm you down after a nightmare.

There were nightmares where you woke up sweaty and nervous, asking the nurse on the night shift to light the candles that were all around your room.

But there were some that had you hurtling to the small bathroom in your room, hurling the contents of your stomach up. Then there were the ones that got so bad that you locked yourself in the bathroom, hiding yourself away in a corner until someone noticed and got a hold of Shouto.

They were getting better, and you were getting better about people coming up behind you, the touching.

For a few days after being admitted to the hospital, the only person who could touch you was Shouto.

Your mother had been heart broken every time you flinched away from her touches.

Your father had only come once, and he had been carried out by hospital staff after Shouto had tossed him out of your room.

You had retreated into yourself after that, and had come clean to Shouto about some of what had happened while you were being held hostage.

The therapy was helping, and so was the massive support that you were getting from the public and other heroes that had been in similar situations.

Your friends were very understanding of you not touching them as much anymore, and you and Bakugou were closer than ever, since he had experienced something similar.

Today was your first day back in the dorms, and you weren't going to lie to yourself, you were nervous.

The class had slowly starting moving all the gifts that you were receiving into your room, so you were only carrying a small bag.

"Shouto," you began. "You know that you can walk away if I get to be too much right?"

It had been bothering you for a while, that he had stayed with you for so long. It had bothered you that he had given up so much of his time for you, while getting very little from you in return.

"Why would I do that?" Shouto asked cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"I just mean that . . . well, I know that I haven't been the easiest girlfriend to have recently, and I . . . I have more issues than when we first started dating, and things have changed. I'm way more high maintenance than I was. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a different girl-"

"Stop it right there," he demanded, turning to you.

His eyes were hard, despite his soft tone of voice.

"(Y/F/N), I don't want anyone other than you," he said. "I don't care if you wake me up at three in the morning screaming. I don't care if you sometimes have days where you feel like you can't say anything to me. I don't care if you have days where you can't get out of bed. I love you. I love you more than anything, and those things are not going to stop me from loving you.

"You are one of the strongest women in my life, and I am not letting you go because you have some issues. We've all got issues, hell, I have issues we haven't even touched on. Those things are just another part of you that I get to love. Alright?"

You nodded, blinking back tears.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" you asked softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He waited for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You weren't entirely sure why touch was such a problem for you now. Other than the injuries you had received during the fight, nothing had happened to you that would explain it, nothing you could remember anyway.

There had been some retrograde amnesia that went along with your kidnapping, though the doctors had assured you that those memories would come back with enough time.

And they had. There were still a few blank spots, but there weren't nearly as many as there had been.

"All the right things," he murmured, kissing your forehead hesitantly.

"I love you too Shouto," you told him.

He smiled softly at you, then turned towards the doors.

They opened, revealing your friends and a huge banner with your characterized face on it.

"Surprise!" they all said, though they didn't yell it like you had thought they would.

"Welcome home (Y/F/N)," Shouto said, sliding his arm around your shoulders as you both walked out.

Yeah, this was home.

#shouto fluff #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroko shouto x reader #todoroki fluff #shouto angst #angst to fluff #todoroki angst #i have no idea where this came from #honestly #what went on inside my head to make this thing?

[marauders-venting]

I Love You

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 2304

note: based on a textpost by @moonyspadfoot45

a/n: yes i know disposable cameras didn’t exist until the mid 80s but i wrote that part before i googled it and i don’t want to change it so we’re gonna go with it

Remus sighed in the direction of the stack of boxes that looked like it was about to topple over.

“Sirius?” he called, walking into the living room.

“Yeah?” Sirius replied, peering at Remus around the stack of boxes from the couch where he was sitting.

“I swear to god if you and James used any of the boxes marked ‘fragile’ for your fortress…” He left the sentence hanging as he reached up to lower the box on the top. “How did you even manage to stack the boxes that high? Did you have to stand on a chair or something to reach up here?”

“Rude,” Sirius said, coming around to Remus’ side of the fort. “I’m not that short.”

“James had to do it, didn’t he?” Remus teased, turning around.

“Moony, stop making fun of me,” Sirius pouted. “Come on, we’re going into the fort.” The ‘fort’ was made of boxes that contained all of Sirius and Remus’ possessions stacked to form walls with a sheet stretched over the top. And it was right in the middle of the living room of Remus and Sirius’ new apartment.

Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him into the fort. The sheet, which was their makeshift ceiling, was hanging so low that even Sirius had to sit on the floor. They sat down and Remus looked around. Then he spotted a box labelled ‘kitchen ware’ and turned to Sirius.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he said. “I was looking for that box for like an hour! I nearly called the movers to ask them to double-check that they hadn’t missed any boxes!”

“I didn’t know you were looking for it!” Sirius said defensively.

“I literally asked you if you’d seen the box!” Remus said, laughing and shaking his head.

“Uhhh,” Sirius started, scrambling for an excuse, “I’m sorry, Remus, but you should know by now that I answer most questions wrong.”

“That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” Remus said.

“Then you obviously haven’t heard any of the excuses I gave McGonagall for breaking the rules,” Sirius said.

“What are you talking about, I was there 90 percent of the time,” Remus said.

“Yeah but when you were there you were giving the excuses.”

“Yeah, my excuses were good, they got us out of detention,” Remus said.

“Feels weird knowing I’ll never have another detention,” Sirius said, lying down on the carpet he and James had brought into the fort earlier. “I keep thinking we’re gonna go back at the end of the summer.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Remus said, lying down next to him. “It feels like just yesterday you were asking me to move it with you and now we’re here. In our living room. In a fucking fort.” Sirius laughed and kissed Remus lightly.

Remus remembered the day Sirius had asked him to move in. He’d never forget it. It was their first anniversary and they were up on the astronomy tower, the same place they’d gotten together the year before. Remus remembered how hard he was trying to put aside his anxiety about the upcoming exams just for that day. Sirius made it easier. Sirius made everything easier.

“Can I give you my present now?” Sirius asked. Remus had felt his cheeks heating, despite the fact that he was quite cold up on the tower, in the cool breeze stinging his face.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he muttered.

“I know,” Sirius said. “But I wanted to. Besides, you were the one who planned out this whole day. And you're the one who’s taking me out on the Hogsmeade weekend after exams.” Remus supposed it was true. He had planned out the day down to the last detail. He felt very cliche doing it but it was worth it to see the look on Sirius’ face. And to feel Sirius’ lips on his.

“Oh alright,” Remus gave in. He was curious now. Sirius handed him a small grey box. Remus cocked his head at him but Sirius’ expression was unreadable. He opened the box and inside it was a silver key and a disposable Muggle camera. Remus picked up the key and turned it over, examining it.

“Pads, what is this?” he asked finally. He was afraid he had ruined something. That this was something sentimental that he was supposed to understand.

“It’s a key,” Sirius said. Remus rolled his eyes.

“I’d figured that much out myself, funnily enough,” he said. “What is the key to?”

“Look at the camera.” Remus did. He picked it up and, glancing at Sirius to make sure this is what he was meant to do, looked through the photos in the camera.

“An apartment?” Remus said, still confused.

“Our apartment,” Sirius said. He was looking at Remus, his grey eyes alight.

“What?” Remus said, gaping at him.

“Only if you want it to be,” he added hurriedly. “I just thought… Everybody's been talking about living arrangements after school and I–I thought maybe you might like to live together. I mean, I haven’t finalised anything yet so we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Or we could still pick a different place. The owner’s of this one won’t vacate it until August so we’d have to figure something out for the first month and a bit after we graduate but I’m sure the Potters won’t mind if we stay there for a little while. And Lily and James might want to be alone in the beginning but I doubt they’d kick us out if we showed up but… do you hate it?” He had barely breathed in between words until now. He looked up at Remus nervously, biting his nail.

“Are you kidding me? I love it,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is… this is incredible. You’re incredible. I—” Remus hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t form the words. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“So you’re saying you’ll do it?” Sirius asked. “You’ll move in with me?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Yes, of course I will.” Sirius beamed at him. But then something occurred to Remus. “Sirius, you haven’t paid anything yet, have you? If you have I’ll pay you back, I—”

“Shh, don’t worry about that now,” Sirius said. “We’ll figure out all the technical details later.” Remus bit his lip.

“Okay,” he said. He could put it out of his mind for that night.

“Happy anniversary, Moony,” he said. And then he kissed Remus, there on top of the astronomy tower and Remus felt just as much excitement then as he had when Sirius had kissed him there for the first time, exactly one year previously.

And here they were now. In their apartment. They ended up deciding on the one Sirius had originally chosen, the one that he’d shown Remus photos of that evening. The owners had ended up vacating a bit earlier than they had said because there was still a week until August. Sirius had stayed at the Potter’s for the first few weeks and Remus had gone back home. But as they were spending every waking moment at Lily and James’ house anyway, they suggested that Remus and Sirius just stay with them. They had invited Peter to stay with them too, just while Sirius and Remus were there but he’d turned down the offer (“After seven years of sleeping in the same room with three other blokes, I think I’ll be good on my own for a while,” he had said). He still came over every day and stayed until around midnight but he always preferred to sleep at home. He said he’d never get used to it if he stayed at Lily and James’.

James, Peter and Lily helped them move in too. They’d been with them to Ikea a few days previously to buy furniture. And they had come over today to help start unpacking things. Well, Lily and Peter helped unpack. James was more interested in building a fort out of the boxes with Sirius.

Remus remembered worrying that he might spend less time with his friends after school since they’d no longer be living in the same big castle but so far the amount of time he spent with Lily, James and Peter had not decreased even a little.

But Lily and James had gone home now and Peter had gone back to his studio flat; Remus and Sirius were alone, together in their new apartment.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asked, snapping Remus back into reality. “I could make you dinner.”

“You’re going to make dinner?” Remus snorted. “I’m sorry but have you ever made food in your entire life?”

“I have actually,” Sirius said. “Mrs Potter taught me how to make food when I lived there. I’m not as good at it as James is but I can make something edible without burning down the kitchen. Although I nearly did that the first time I tried to make food.”

“Well, that’s very convincing,” Remus said sarcastically. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m kidding!” he said. “I’ll be on standby with the fire extinguisher.”

“What’s that?” Sirius asked.

“Kind of in the name, babe,” Remus said and then he crawled quickly out of the fort before Sirius figured it out and elbowed him again.

But Remus was pleasantly surprised because not only did Sirius manage to not light the whole house on fire, but he even produced some pretty good food.

“You know, this is quite nice,” Remus said, taking another bite. “Mrs Potter must be a really good teacher if she managed to get you to this level of cooking.”

“Why can’t you just have a little bit more faith in my talents, Moony?” Sirius said. “But yeah, she’s a great teacher. James, on the other hand, is a terrible teacher. It’s not that he can’t cook because he can. He just can’t teach other people to cook. But don’t tell him I said that.” Remus snorts.

“As if you haven’t already told him that to his face.”

“You know me too well,” Sirius sighs.

After dinner, Sirius goes to shower and Remus continues unpacking boxes. The more boxes he unpacks, the more he realises how much crap they’re missing. But he’s not too worried about it. They’ll go to the store tomorrow and find whatever it is that they’re missing. It’s nothing essential. The only essential thing to Remus in this house is Sirius. As long as Sirius is here, Remus would be fine.

Remus opens another box with a utility knife. He looks inside and his jaw drops.

“Rem?” Sirius asks, coming into the room, his hair still wet from the shower. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus says. “Look at this.” He takes out the contents of the box and sets them on the table. It’s photos. Loads of photos of them from school.

“Wow,” Sirius says, looking through the photos. “Oh my god.” He holds one of the photos out to Remus laughing. Remus looks at the photo and starts laughing too. It’s him sitting next to a dog, a stag and a rat. His friends in their animagus forms and him in the middle, smiling awkwardly as Lily takes a photo.

They spent a little longer looking through the photos, laughing at how much they had changed since the first day they’d met each other in first year. They all looked so little. And now… well, now they’re grown up. Remus didn’t feel like it though.

He returned the photos to the box, deciding he’d find a place for them tomorrow. He was reaching another box when Sirius took his hand.

“Come to bed, darling,” he said. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re still unpacking boxes.”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus said. He smiled and laced his fingers with Sirius’.

He showered and put on a massive sweater (despite it being midsummer) and clambered into their new bed, where Sirius was already waiting for him. Sirius pulled him in and kissed his forehead before resting his head against Remus’ chest.

As they cuddle in their brand new bed, in their brand new apartment, Remus is overcome by the urge to tell Sirius, to just say it. To say what he wanted to say months ago on their anniversary but had been too afraid. He doesn’t even care if Sirius says it back. He just wants to say the words. He wants Sirius to know. Sirius deserves to know.

He lifts Sirius’ chin with his hand so their eyes meet as he brushes his thumb against Sirius’ cheek.

“I love you,” he says.

“I– I–” Sirius stutters.

“And you don’t have to say it back or anything,” Remus assures him. “I just wanted you to know.” Tears spill from Sirius’ eyes.

“You’re crying?” Remus said, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“No, nothing wrong, I just—” Sirius hesitates, sniffing. “That’s the first time anyone’s told me that,” he admits.

“That’s a shame,” Remus says, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll always remind you how much I love you. I love you so much, Sirius.” He pulls Sirius into a tight hug. “You deserve so much love.” Sirius kisses him softly. It’s a quiet, gentle kiss, tears still flowing freely down Sirius’ face.

“I love you too,” Sirius whispers.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did,” Remus says.

“I’m not,” Sirius said. “I really do love you.” Remus smiles as he feels the blush blooming on his cheeks. And suddenly he can’t remember what was holding him back in the first place. He feels like an idiot for waiting so long to say this. He loves Sirius. He loves Sirius with all of his heart and he’s going to make sure Sirius knows it.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #james potter #james potter fluff #lily evans #peter pettigrew #post hogwarts #post hogwarts fluff #Marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot