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trainingforfandom · 1 year

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Todoroki Shoto

It’s a little odd to choose a Push, Pull, Legs split instead of an Upper/Lower for half-and-half. However, while Todoroki has a good physique, he isn’t as muscle focused as Midoriya who needs the muscle to control his quirk (it’s a bullshit headcanon of mine that he can only safely use the percent of one-for-all that can be stored/output by his muscle size/quality), or Bakugo who needs strength and mass to endure his quirk’s recoil (yet another BS headcanon). Additionally, he seems like the type who isn’t naturally as studious as Midoriya or as effortlessly smart as Bakugo so he’d need a time efficient split to fit in his school work. Considering the fact he has two quirks to master, one of which he only recently began using, he might allocate more time to quirk training or martial arts. He might do ‘sauna yoga’ (something like bikram/hot yoga) for recovery and benefits as you might be able to imagine (explained below). He also seems to enjoy minimalism in his way of life, and probably does not enjoy working out for fun as Endeavor destroyed any association of training with fun.

Diet: He’s a teenage boy who is very active, his calorie needs would likely be pretty high not to mention insanely great genetics. He also has a quirk that messes with his internal temperature, probably burning calories to keep him warm when he freezes over and burning calories to use as fuel for his fire. Eat well, eat some soba, chips, and candy, but just watch the mirror and the scale and adjust from there. Which leads to: Soba doesn’t have enough protein for meaningful muscle building, add some eggs, meat, or tofu to the side, along with vegetables because zaru soba isn’t typically served with those either.

Recovery: Humans in BNHA as in most anime are of quite a sturdier breed. This is safe to combine with the PE program because it’s designed minimalistic but it could be done as:

Week A: PE style workouts (Mon, Wed, Fri)

Week B: This PPL (Mon, Wed, Fri)

Never will I suggest heat/cold shock, however, because gyms are usually cold, and I wanted this workout to be a little thematic, he might do sauna yoga in either the school’s or his private sauna/bath house. It’s a workout in itself but it keeps him limber and reduces soreness.

I’m doing ‘named’ days for the BNHA programs because the kids are on a schedule that doesn’t really change. In all seriousness if you are a busy student give Todoroki’s PPL split a try

Sunday: OFF

Monday: PE

https://at.tumblr.com/trainingforfandom/when-i-eventually-get-around-to-posting-the-bnha/aq67mux94180

Tuesday: Push + Recovery Yoga

(Warm Up: 20,10,8) 5 x 5 Bench Press

15, 10, 8, 10, 15 Cable Chest Flye

4 x 15 (per side) Cable Lateral Raises

3 x 10 L - Sit Dips/ Russian Dips

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- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rsuO6K2RUtI (Do something simple like this in a warm room, or just anywhere appropriate)

Wednesday: PE

https://at.tumblr.com/trainingforfandom/when-i-eventually-get-around-to-posting-the-bnha/aq67mux94180

Thursday: Legs (Balance Focused as ice is slippery) + Recovery Yoga

(Warm Up: 20,10,8) 5 x 5 Hack Squat

3 x 10 RDL

4 x 15 (split evenly per leg) Shrimp OR Pistol Squats

4 x 20 (split evenly per leg) Calf raises (Bosu Ball/Unstable surface, please hold onto something or have a mat to sit/fall on)

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- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rsuO6K2RUtI (Do something simple like this in a warm room, or just anywhere)

Friday: PE + Pull (He does this during the weightlifting portion, after the sandbag stuff, and before the core circuit with his class)

https://at.tumblr.com/trainingforfandom/when-i-eventually-get-around-to-posting-the-bnha/aq67mux94180

(Warm Up: 20,10,8) 5 x 5 Deadlift → Bent over row (Deadlift up to the knees, then row the weight. Pick light -> moderate weight)

3 x FAILURE Pegboard OR Archer Pull Ups

3 x 15 Cable Curls (relatively light weight, focus on contraction)

4 x 15 Face Pulls

3 x 15 Planche Progression Ex: Maltese dumbbell flye on bench (WTF? → Look up: Straight arm bicep strength)

Saturday: OFF

A/N: Studying style headcannons

Bakugo is the kind of guy who attends the lesson, picks everything up first time, and does his homework with relative ease. Some people just have that kind of application 'know-how' from lesson to test.

Midoriya gets most of what he needs from lessons but might miss something because he's too focused on making perfect notes, he is able to just retrace back to a point he didn't quite get and just do a little extra reading/tutorial. He only makes test mistakes because he overthinks.

Todoroki is closer to 'naturally above average', he just works hard, like a natural 80% student if he was relaxed towards his studies. His notes are ok, he usually asks his classmates to explain in a more casual manner, and needs to spend more time solving/drilling homework and problems.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha todoroki #shouto todoroki #shoto torodoki #my hero academia #workout #fitness #health #lifestyle #mha todoroki #todoroki #anime workout

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socksstylesecrets · 4 months

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Men’s Style Tips: Choosing Sports Socks for Summer

Introduction

Summer brings unique challenges and opportunities in men's fashion, particularly when it comes to choosing the right sports socks. The perfect pair not only enhances performance but also complements your style. Here, we'll delve into essential tips for selecting sports socks for men, perfect for the summer heat.

What Materials Are Best for Summer Sports Socks?

The choice of material is crucial when selecting sports socks for summer. Breathable fabrics like cotton and moisture-wicking yarns such as merino wool are ideal. These natural materials help keep your feet cool and dry, crucial for comfort and hygiene in hot weather. Synthetic materials, like polyester, are less efficient at managing heat and can lead to increased sweat and discomfort. When shopping for sports socks, look for options that promise breathability and moisture management. This not only improves your comfort during activities but also ensures better foot health by reducing the risk of blisters and fungal infections often associated with damp conditions.

Why Should I Choose Low-Cut Sports Socks in Summer?

Low-cut sports socks are a practical and stylish choice for summer. They offer a sleek look that pairs well with trainers and shorts, contributing to a sporty and streamlined appearance. Beyond aesthetics, low-cut styles are more comfortable in the heat and prevent the common issue of sock tan lines. These socks provide enough coverage to protect your feet from shoe friction while keeping your style quotient high. When paired with the right shoes, low-cut sports socks can elevate your summer sports attire, making them a versatile addition to your wardrobe.

How Do I Choose the Right Colors for Summer Sports Socks?

In summer, light-colored sports socks are preferable as they reflect rather than absorb heat. Opting for whites, greys, or pastels can keep your feet cooler and minimize heat retention. These colors offer greater versatility, making them suitable for various summer outfits. Light-colored socks fit seamlessly into a capsule wardrobe, ideal for holidays or casual outings. For a classic look, pair white sports socks with faded jeans and a relaxed shirt. If you prefer something more vibrant, summer is the perfect time to experiment with bright colors that reflect the season's energy.

What Features Should I Look for Comfort in Summer Sports Socks?

Comfort is paramount in summer sports socks. Look for socks with cushioning in the heel and ball of the foot, as these areas bear the most impact during activities. Cushioning helps absorb shock, reducing the risk of discomfort and injury. Arch support is another crucial feature, as it helps distribute pressure evenly, minimizes foot fatigue, and enhances overall comfort. Additionally, comfort welts at the top of the socks can prevent blistering and ensure a snug fit. These features are essential for maintaining foot health and comfort, especially during long periods of physical activity or walking in the summer heat.

What Performance-Enhancing Features Are Important in Summer Sports Socks?

Performance-enhancing features in sports socks can significantly improve your summer activities. Breathable mesh panels in socks promote air circulation, keeping your feet cool and dry. Anti-odor technology is also beneficial, as it helps manage foot hygiene and prevents unpleasant smells, a common concern during intense physical activities in hot weather. These features are essential in maintaining a comfortable and hygienic environment for your feet, allowing you to focus on your performance without worrying about foot discomfort or odor.

Conclusion Selecting the right sports socks for men in summer involves a careful balance of material, style, color, comfort, and performance features. By considering these aspects, you can ensure that your sports socks not only provide the necessary support and comfort for summer activities but also align with your personal style. The perfect pair of sports socks can significantly enhance your summer sporting experience, keeping you cool, comfortable, and stylish.

Explore Bonjour’s collection of sports socks designed for ultimate comfort and style. Beat the summer heat with the perfect pair that keeps you cool and fashionable. Dive into our guide for choosing sports socks that elevate your summer look. Upgrade your summer style now with Bonjour! Shop NOW for comfort and fashion!

#sports socks #mens sports socks #best sports socks #ankle sport socks

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girl-in-a-hoodie1 · 9 months

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How to Make Keto Corn Tortillas from Scratch?

If you're on a low-carb or ketogenic diet and missing those traditional corn tortillas, fear not. In this guide, we'll show you how to craft your very own delicious and keto-friendly tortillas from scratch. By using a clever combination of alternative ingredients, we'll help you create soft and pliable tortillas that perfectly mimic the taste and texture of the classic corn version, all while keeping your carb count in check. Whether you're looking to enjoy your favorite tacos, enchiladas, or quesadillas without the guilt, or simply craving a versatile, gluten-free wrap option, these homemade Keto corn tortillas are the answer to your prayers.

Essential Components for Homemade Keto Corn Tortillas

When embarking on the journey of making homemade keto corn tortillas, it's crucial to gather the right ingredients to achieve that perfect low-carb balance without compromising on flavor and texture. First and foremost, opt for high-quality almond flour or coconut flour as the base, ensuring they are finely ground to avoid a gritty consistency. Xanthan gum acts as a binding agent, making the dough easier to handle. Look for psyllium husk powder, which imparts elasticity and prevents the tortillas from breaking apart during cooking. To bring that authentic corn flavor, consider using corn extract or nixtamalized corn flour, which is specially treated for better digestibility. Lastly, do not forget to add a pinch of salt to enhance the overall taste. With these essential components in your pantry, you're ready to embark on a delicious and nutritious keto corn tortilla adventure!

Combining Low-Carb Flours for Authentic Texture

Achieving the ideal dough consistency is a critical step in crafting authentic-tasting keto corn tortillas. Begin by mixing your selected low-carb flours (such as almond and coconut) in precise proportions, ensuring they are well-distributed. Incorporate a small amount of xanthan gum and psyllium husk powder to enhance the pliability of the dough. Next, gradually add warm water to the dry ingredients, using a fork to combine them until a cohesive dough forms. Knead the dough gently for a few minutes, allowing the flours to fully absorb the moisture. The goal is to achieve a smooth and elastic texture without it being too sticky or dry. Let the dough rest for about 15-20 minutes to allow the fibers to bind further. With a perfectly blended dough, you're well on your way to making delectable keto corn tortillas with an authentic texture.

Shaping Your Keto Corn Tortillas with Precision

Rolling out keto corn tortillas requires finesse and a gentle touch to attain the desired thinness and round shape. Begin by dividing the rested dough into small, evenly sized balls, about the size of a golf ball. Lightly dust a clean surface with almond flour or coconut flour to prevent sticking. Using a tortilla press or a rolling pin, flatten each dough ball gradually, rotating it to maintain a round shape. Aim for a thickness of around 1/8 inch, as thinner tortillas cook more evenly and yield a more authentic texture. If using a tortilla press, place the dough between two sheets of parchment paper to prevent sticking. With practice and patience, you'll master the art of shaping keto corn tortillas with precision, setting the stage for a delightful culinary experience.

Achieving the Ideal Temperature and Timing

Cooking keto corn tortillas to perfection requires attentiveness to temperature and timing. Heat a non-stick skillet or a comal over medium-high heat and allow it to become hot before placing your rolled-out tortilla on the surface. Cook each side for about 30 seconds to a minute or until light brown spots appear. Be cautious not to overcook, as it can lead to a brittle texture. The tortilla should remain pliable and soft. As you cook, keep an eye on the heat, adjusting it as needed to prevent burning or undercooking. Once done, transfer the tortillas to a clean kitchen towel, stacking them to retain moisture and heat. With practice, you'll find the sweet spot for achieving the ideal temperature and timing, resulting in perfectly cooked keto corn tortillas ready to be enjoyed.

Tips for Keeping Your Homemade Keto Corn Tortillas Fresh

To extend the shelf life of your homemade keto corn tortillas, proper storage and preservation are essential. Once the tortillas have cooled down, place them in an airtight container or a resealable plastic bag, removing as much air as possible to prevent staleness. Keep the container in the refrigerator, where the tortillas should stay fresh for up to a week. Alternatively, you can freeze them for up to three months without compromising taste and quality. To freeze, separate each tortilla with parchment paper to prevent sticking and then place them in a freezer-safe bag. When ready to use, defrost in the refrigerator or microwave them briefly with a damp paper towel to restore their pliability. Armed with these storing and preserving tips, you can enjoy your homemade keto corn tortillas for an extended period.

Adding Herbs and Spices to Elevate Your Tortilla Experience

While traditional keto corn tortillas are delightful on their own, experimenting with herbs and spices can elevate your culinary experience to new heights. Consider adding finely chopped cilantro, oregano, or basil to the dough for a refreshing and fragrant twist. For a spicier kick, incorporate a dash of chili powder or cumin. Roasted garlic or onion powder can infuse the tortillas with a rich umami flavor, making them ideal for savory dishes. Additionally, consider incorporating a pinch of turmeric for a vibrant golden hue and added health benefits. The possibilities are endless, allowing you to tailor your keto corn tortillas to suit various cuisines and personal preferences. Be mindful of the quantity and balance of herbs and spices to avoid overpowering the delicate corn flavor. Unleash your creativity and embark on a flavorful journey with these delightful variations.

Creative Ways to Incorporate Keto Corn Tortillas into Your Low-Carb Meals

The versatility of keto corn tortillas extends beyond their role as a simple wrap or taco shell. Embrace the myriad of creative ways to incorporate them into your low-carb meals. For breakfast, use them as a base for a satisfying huevos rancheros, or craft a delectable breakfast burrito with scrambled eggs, avocado, and bacon. At lunchtime, explore the world of quesadillas, filling them with cheese, spinach, and grilled chicken. For dinner, savor mouthwatering enchiladas, layered with a flavorful sauce, your choice of protein, and a sprinkle of cheese. You can even cut them into strips and bake them for a crunchy garnish to your soups and salads. Dessert lovers can enjoy a sweet treat by lightly frying the tortillas and dusting them with a mix of cinnamon and sweetener. The adaptability of keto corn tortillas ensures that every meal becomes an exciting and low-carb adventure for your taste buds.

Conclusion

In conclusion, crafting homemade Keto Corn Tortillas from scratch is a rewarding culinary endeavor that allows you to savor the authentic flavors of traditional tortillas while staying true to your low-carb lifestyle. By combining the right ingredients, mastering the rolling technique and cooking them to perfection, you can create a batch of delicious and keto-friendly tortillas that will elevate your meals to a whole new level. With the added advantage of exploring various flavorful variations, these versatile tortillas open up a world of possibilities for your low-carb kitchen. So, roll up your sleeves and embark on this flavorful journey to enjoy the perfect blend of taste and health in every bite.

#Keto corn tortillas

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xtruss · 10 months

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Humanity’s Groundwater Pumping Has Altered Earth’s Tilt! Massive Shifts of Water Have Caused Earth’s Poles to Wander

— 16 June 2023 | By Warren Cornwall | Science.Org

Earth’s spin axis has shifted in recent years because of groundwater extraction, which redistributes the weight of the planet’s water. Alexsava/iStock

While spinning on its axis, Earth wobbles like an off-kilter top. Sloshing molten iron in Earth’s core, melting ice, ocean currents, and even hurricanes can all cause the poles to wander. Now, scientists have found that a significant amount of the polar drift results from human activity: pumping groundwater for drinking and irrigation.

“The very way the planet wobbles is impacted by our activities,” says Surendra Adhikari, a geophysicist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory and an expert on Earth’s rotation who was not involved in the study. “It is, in a way, mind boggling.”

Imagine spinning a basketball on your finger. If you can keep the ball balanced, it will spin evenly along its axis. But add a little bit of weight to one part of the ball or remove it from another, and the ball will rapidly become unbalanced, wobbling and shifting its spin axis. Earth’s spin axis also wobbles, its North Pole tracing out a roughly 10-meter-wide circle every year or so. The center of this wobble also drifts over the long term; lately, it has been tilting in the direction of Iceland by about 9 centimeters per year.

Clark R. Wilson, a geophysicist at the University of Texas at Austin, and his colleagues thought the removal of tens of gigatons of groundwater each year might affect the drift. But they knew it could not be the only factor. “There’s a lot of pieces that go into the final budget for causing polar drift,” Wilson says.

The scientists built a model of the polar wander, accounting for factors such as reservoirs filling because of new dams and ice sheets melting, to see how well they explained the polar movements observed between 1993 and 2010. During that time, satellite measurements were precise enough to detect a shift in the poles as small as a few millimeters.

Dams and ice changes were not enough to match the observed polar motion. But when the researchers also put in 2150 gigatons of groundwater that hydrologic models estimate were pumped between 1993 and 2010, the predicted polar motion aligned much more closely with observations. Wilson and his colleagues conclude that the redistribution of that water weight to the world’s oceans has caused Earth’s poles to shift nearly 80 centimeters during that time. In fact, groundwater removal appears to have played a bigger role in that period than the release of meltwater from ice in either Greenland or Antarctica, the scientists reported Thursday in Geophysical Research Letters.

The effect was amplified because much of the water was removed in the northern midlatitudes, in groundwater depletion hot spots such as northwestern India and the western United States. If the biggest loss of water had occurred closer to the equator or the poles, the effect would have been smaller, Wilson says.

The extra wobble is far too small to affect weather or seasons, Wilson says. But the findings could enable scientists to use polar drift as a tool to gauge other phenomena. Ki-Weon Seo, a geophysicist at Seoul National University and the study’s lead author, says it offers a way to check how much sea level rise the groundwater pumping is causing, as the water flows downstream and ultimately reaches the ocean.

The new paper helps confirm that groundwater depletion added approximately 6 millimeters to global sea level rise between 1993 and 2010. “I was very happy” that this new method matched other estimates, Seo says. Because detailed astronomical measurements of the polar axis location go back to the end of the 19th century, polar drift could enable Seo to trace the human impact on the planet’s water over the past century.

#Science #Journals #Commentary #Energy #Environment

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sushigreys · 2 years

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Cantonese words rock and kiss

Slice cylinder into 12 portions (about 4-5 cm each). For the cleanest cut, slice by holding a thread or strand of dental floss underneath the cylinder, and cross ends of the floss over each other and pull. Mark gently with a knife/scraper to create 12 equal portions. If they are rolled tightly, the rolls will have pointed center as the center will rise up as it doesn’t have enough space to expand side ways. While rolling, keep in your mind not to roll them tightly as they need some room for them to expand while proofing and while baking. Starting with long edge nearest you, roll the dough into a cylinder. Then sprinkle on the filling mixture as evenly as possible. Then spread very soft butter all over the surface. Pat, stretch and roll out the dough to form 18X15-inch rectangle with long edge nearest you. So for the next step of shaping the rolls, first we need to roll the dough into thin sheet (1/ 4th inch thickness). This resting will prevent our dough from enormous rebounding back of the dough while rolling it into a thin rectangular sheet. Shape it into a ball then flatten it a little and then cover it with a bowl or kitchen towel and let the dough rest on the counter for five minutes.This is not for proofing the dough, but this is to let the dough sit for a few minutes so that the gluten stands will relax. The dough may feel sticky in the beginning, thats ok,(that’s the way it should be) you may be tempted to add more flour but don’t do that.The dough will come together in about 4 minutes of kneading. If you are kneading the dough by hands, transfer the dough on to a clean work surface and knead the dough for a few minutes(3-4 minutes)until it form a smooth dough. If you are kneading the dough in a stand mixer, use the dough hook attachment to knead the dough. Then add in the flour into this mixture and combine them together to form a shaggy mass of dough. Make sure all the ingredients are at room temperature and the milk should be preferably warm(not hot). Into a bowl add the milk,softened butter, sugar,salt,yeast and egg and combine everything together. We can make them in FOUR SIMPLE STEPS 1.Prepare the bread dough Making homemade quick cinnamon rolls is so easy. How to Make Quick Homemade Cinnamon Rolls If you want more thinner frosting, you can add 1-2 tbsp milk into it.A pinch of salt to balance the sweetness.Vanilla powder 1/2 tsp or vanilla extract 1 tsp.Soft Brown sugar (packed cup)1/2 cup /90g.Yeast (instant /active dried yeast) 1tsp.Milk 3/4 Cup (180 g)If you don’t want to add milk, you can use plain water instead.All purpose flour/Bread flour: 3 cups (130g x 3=390g).Quick Dinner Rolls Recipe is by far, one of the most popular recipes on the blog and for a good reason. So it might be a good idea to hop over to the post and watch the VIDEO Ingredients needed to make Quick Homemade Cinnamon Rolls To make the bread dough The technique is the same and the difference is in shaping and frosting. This Quick Homemade Cinnamon Rolls Recipe is actually adapted from the Quick Dinner Rolls Recipe. We don’t need to knead the dough for a very long time.we just need to knead the dough(3-4 minutes by hand or 1-2 minutes if you are using a stand mixer) until it form a smooth dough. In this quick cinnamon rolls recipe we skip the first proofing, which is about two hours.And thus we can save a lot of our time. This is a cinnamon rolls recipe, which does not require double proofing as many other recipes. Why is this recipe called a “Quick” Homemade Cinnamon Rolls Recipeįor making cinnamon rolls, it require a long time for the proofing and preparation. and the bottom of the rolls are wonderfully caramelized with that golden brown color.Slathered with a cream cheese frosting which is not overly sweet.Soft,featherlight,airy and fluffy with that gooey filling.This Cinnamon rolls recipe will help you to make the best cinnamon rolls in a faster one rise method. Quick and Easy Homemade Cinnamon Rolls-Super Soft And Delicious Cinnamon Rolls Slathered With An Amazing Melt-In-Your-Mouth Cream Cheese Frosting. Just As Yummy As The Classic Cinnamon Roll Recipe, But Done In A Quick Way! Why You will love this Quick Homemade Cinnamon Rolls Recipe

#Cantonese words rock and kiss

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owo--bot · 2 years

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Loyal as a Dog // Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 28: A Monster Took to Flesh

wc: 4.1k

TW // cursing, a tiny bit of angst (maybe??)

A monster took to flesh;

I'm infatuated with them.

All of them.

Just them.

Yesterday their name was yellow.

Today their name is red.

Tomorrow their name will be blue.

If they're clean,

I don't mind being filth.

Yesterday they named me ×××

Today they name me ×××

Tomorrow they'll name me ×××

My love is hereditary.

I will not defy,

What's ingrained.

So why?

A monster took to flesh

but glued on someone else's.

It's dirty.

Take it off.

……………

I peeled back adhesive

I peeled back human flesh

I peeled back human nature

I peel to find them, them, them,

but what I see is

pitiful.

I don't love monsters who look pathetic.

A monster took to flesh;

I'm infatuated with them.

-3-

"Don't hate me in the afterlife Mr. Baji, I didn't want it to come to this either y'know?"

Ting

A harsh swing made contact as a baseball soared—into the opposing teams' mit. Civil War breathed life into an open field of degenerates who vaguely looked to be playing baseball. Civil War stole life from Baji who was having compliance issues with reality.

A friendly game of baseball marked your wrist as no longer broken. It also marked your first game of baseball. It also marked a discovery of your secret pitching talent.

It's to be expected that no one would choose the noobie for their team so when Chifuyu demonstrated how to pitch your initiation blew his expectations out of the water.

There's no actual technique behind it. If anything it's chaotic, but still,

It's the shit.

Baji stood and stared for a few seconds before it registered what actually happened as he let out a tsk.

"No hard feelings, right Mr. Baji?"

Both you and Chifuyu smiled sweetly at the momentary enemy as ill-equipped players passed off mitts to those now swapped out onto the field.

"Huh?" Baji smirked, snatching Chifuyu's mit as he made off towards the opposing side. "Don't tell me you're getting cocky, or did you already forget?"

Letting out an unsettling laugh you replied, "do ya really think dead weight could forget that they're dead weight?"

Not everyone can be created in a well rounded light, when distributing your skill points you forgot to distribute and instead funneled everything you had into one OP category. Certified dead weight in all aspects other than pitching; a guaranteed strikeout champion.

"We've been working around it," Chifuyu beamed.

"What a reliable manager Chifuyu is," you chirped, shooting a black smile in Bajis' direction.

A team of 10 couldn't be doomed by one.

According to Chifuyu at least.

Makeshift bases consisted of upside-down bottles which punctured dirt. All players lacked sense in regard to the safety hazard bases, so a secret minigame of 'which idiot will collide with a glass bottle first' was ongoing as well.

Teammates showed off their evenly distributed skill points as they stepped up to bat.

What a reliable bunch of dudes.

Balls were hit, bases had yet to be shattered and no one had been knocked unconscious.

Considering who was playing made bat to baseball contact a threat, and also that.

Will Mr. Sun form an alliance with Mr. Ball? Why wouldn't they? Acquainted in the heavens, they agreed to offer earth a slice of hell. With the cover of Mr. Sun, Mr. Ball would be free to rain terror down from the sky, leaving a parting lump on any who thought they had the guts to catch a free spirited ball like him.

But, Mr. Ball has a low hit rate.

While we had well-balanced and unbalanced players covered, Mr. Ball is assigned with the dreadful 'no balance' title.

Rolled up sleeves were no match for July heat. Hot and not ready, you gripped around the handle, weathered tape pressed into your palms as you summoned the bat to assist you and your flimsy stance.

A star on the field is a batting burnout.

A pitcher that you condemned is weaponized.

Raven hair was pulled back to unveil horror. Where a face should've been was the zenith of a black inferno.

Baji is a good person, but now

Air he breathes turns to miasma and

You're the target of that thing's revenge.

Plus he's armed.

Is this considered a hostage situation?

"Still feeling cocky?"

Baji offered a wild grin, delivering the ball in a manner that'd effectively terminate your cocky existence. So you settled on—

—a sidestep to safety.

Once the ball wasn't deemed a threat you pursued its rolling route.

"Does it look like we're playing fetch?" Baji asked.

"Woof," you complied, sifting the ball out of the grass and switching into autopilot. "I wonder if Mr. Baji has doggies on his mind? Y'know I never took ya for the cheating type so I hope ya stay faithful to those kitty cats, plus–" You tossed the ball back while autopilot only had a few good seconds remaining. "Cat claws must be super good at getting revenge, don't ya think?"

"If you know that much, you should try it out," he retorted, hurling the ball in your direction. "Hit the ball this time instead of chasing it around like a damn dog."

Baseballs can, on occasion look like attempted murder. Malice wisped around it and offered the origin to its lineage, which just so happened to be a heat seeking missile.

Complying with Baji's wishes you promptly moved out of the way and narrowly avoided a splattering end.

"What was that about? Just hit it already."

"Oki-doki!"

Another toss.

Another dodge.

Dark eyebrows furrowed while the remainder of his face was stiff with dissatisfaction, without warning—

Toss.

Dodge.

Repeat.

Certified dead weight had been a consistent strikeout culprit. Yet look at where you stand.

The top of the world.

First base.

Teammates who carried deadweight burst aloud with triumph after witnessing a world class fluke of a miracle. Not hitting the ball was technically a survival strategy but ended up working in unison with a specific rule that ultimately graced you with a chance to just,

Walk?

Batting defiance is rewarded in sports where the main goal is batting. To avoid further conflict, let's say Baji was an upstanding pitcher throughout that entire exchange and despite how it looked his intentions were pure of heart.

Baji triggered a miracle, the end.

Bases were stiff with anticipation as each bottle was buddied up with potential victims from either team. Amongst friend and foe both parties fell victim to a cocktail of filth made up of sweat, grass, dirt or all of the above;

Sanzu's going to snap.

Pitifully equipped opponents lacked morale as they gave into the despair of heat craze thanks to who else but that sadist, Mr. Sun.

War that's ready to expire seems to have already gone sour.

"You really think I'd let you guys win?" Baji grinned at the final batter.

"Not for a second," Chifuyu offered a friendly smile as he continued, "but it looks like you already did."

Stationed next to fixed glass with bat in hand, Chifuyu squeezed the handle as he maintained eye contact with a game-ending pitch. A ball propelled by denial raged ahead on pure emotion, you could practically hear it shatter through time and—maybe not.

Clipping the base, glass shattered up towards that sadist Mr. Sun as his hunger was finally filled with this jagged finale. Mr. Ball ascended amongst shards paying his pal a final visit, he said goodbye to his favorite sadist.

A dangerous finale.

Team Chifuyu won.

Won nothing.

Won bonding time with a raging captain.

Won insight stating bottles are bad bases.

Won memories that you'll cherish for eternity.

Everything is always good.

Walking held an air of urgency.

Weaving left and weaving right, you pass through streets with vague familiarity but to be fair, your internal navigation system is fried so don't cite that source. Playing follow the leader you always followed as crosswalks and stop lights came and went, by now some distance had been created between here and the daycare for wheels.

No one placed bets on the former baseball experience yet a free meal ticket was gifted, or more so forced.

Restaurants painted in orange light offered a glimpse of out of budget dining, each building held an air of individuality while still honoring their neighbor. Foot traffic was of the masses but a majority didn't appear ready to settle into one establishment or the next, or they're just waiting for trash scraps. While cost wasn't a concern to you, Baji appeared to be out of his mind unless dine and dash was on his mind—no, it had to be on his mind.

Obvious glances from society further validated suspicion. Doing your best wasn't good enough, once again clothing had been sentenced to life in stains by a perpetrator with a blackened record. Dirtbag attire is a sensitive topic when it came to Sanzu, at this point he'd sooner excuse murder than overlook this stained felony. Erase the evidence from existence, all other routes led to certain death.

"What's the problem?" A fellow dirtbag asked.

Indistinguishable chatter was a music box of eternal noise but was diminished to white noise as you further analyzed the baseball aftermath.

"Dirty." Incapable of prying your eyes from the crime scene, frantic fingers tore at your hair as anxieties heightened. "I really shoulda gone home and changed first, this is real, real bad Mr. Baji."

"I don't see what the big deal is, they're just clothes," Baji groaned.

"But no one can love me if I'm a dirtbag."

"Huh?" Baji's brow arched, waving his hand to dismiss your claims as he continued, "If that's what decides then they never cared about you to begin with. Besides, clothes are the last thing that'll chase someone off."

"Ya think?" You asked, cocking your head to one side.

"Yeah, all they gotta do is talk to you," he replied as a wide grin stretched out to steal his face.

"Boo, I'd rather it be my clothes."

"Alright fine, it's your clothes. That better?"

There wasn't room for an answer.

Consistency of footsteps met their end.

"Bet you've never eaten at a place like this before," Baji flaunted pleasantly.

In the eyes of a setting sun dirtbags looked similar to humans as long shadows mimicked movement. In the eyes of a setting sun hell looked best while burning. Radiance akin to flames seeped through fencing and filled an acquainted gap between establishments; walls once resembled death.

The world—

A void of sound.

A violent heartbeat.

A pulsating gnaws flesh.

A stillness consumes humanity.

—is bad.

That place is bad.

Everything around it must be too.

Hands devoid of life wrap around your throat.

It's hard to breathe.

They won't let you.

A presence.

It hurts.

Crackling was blue,

Blood was red.

Fear is black.

He was;

Bad.

It's fine–it's not.

A bad person tried to take you away-

"Whaddya waiting for? Let's go."

Light with anticipation, Baji beamed widely while motioning his head towards the restaurant.

"No."

Heavy as stone, your soles were coated in glue.

You can't move

You won't move.

You refuse to move.

But

If you stay here you'll–

"Huh?" Baji asked as his expression flipped blank.

"I don't wanna be here."

If you stay here you'll die.

If you stay here you'll-

"I said I'd pay so stop being difficult, c'mon."

Grabbing hold of your arm;

Was interpreted as a threat.

Existence was erratic, soles resisted against concrete as you pulled back in an attempt for freedom but hands worked as handcuffs.

"What's the problem? You were fine a minute ago."

"I don't wanna be here," you babbled, devolving into an aggressive, teary mess. "Baji, I'll really hate ya if ya don't let go."

"Alright, alright."

Letting go, Baji brought his hands up in an offering of peace as you hopped to your feet; despite the harsh backwards plummet.

"We'll go somewhere else, just stop crying," Baji's tone wavered, ill equipped to handle this but at a minimum he managed to not choke on his words.

While food sounded great, safety sounded better.

"Got it," you mumbled out pathetically.

Stiffness isn't in Baji's nature.

Neither is prolonged silence.

But that's where the crying route led.

Progressively stitching yourself back together, two dirtbags made an awkward trek back towards transportation.

The fastest form of transportation.

The loudest form of transportation.

Reading the mood, an exhaust sputtered out loud enough to fill up the blank space.

Survival was no longer necessary, you could simply just;

Exist.

Nightfall carried a gentle breeze of summer.

Stars couldn't be seen.

They rarely could be.

Maybe just here.

Cities hate stars more than anyone.

Unlike your navigational programming, Baji came equipped with an efficient escape function. Ditching previous scenery for something closer to home, it was the best possible location.

It didn't look like out of budget dining.

It didn't look like any form of dining.

Flickering signs of a convenience store were desperate for travelers to park in its lot, so while Baji's bike kept it company the dirtbags for a day found the side of the building better suited for their needs.

"I seriously love ya Mr. Baji."

Meow

Buzzing cried out from a streetlamp who struggled to offer light for the side-wall gettogether. A minimal casting of cats had previously been garbage can fanatics but decided to stray away from their dumpster dive to humble two dirtbags. Free spirited cats had no need for collars, though the hobo-cat trio looked as though they forgot how to clean themselves along their travels; or maybe they stick to bathing in dumpster slop.

Dirtbags join forces.

Three sets of paws weaved around crouched figures, occasionally rubbing their heads against the pair as fingers brushed down matted fur. It was unclear if preference was determined by crouching form or degree of dirt but whatever it was, you were lacking. Dirtball cats gravitated towards Baji and his peak crouching stance as well as his formidable dirt to grass ratio, call it bribery.

Or the natural order of the world.

"Yeah? Well it seemed easy enough for you to change your mind earlier."

I'll hate you.

Empty threats are an abundance in this world; when someone says 'I'll kill you' for the ha-ha's or maybe for the no-no's, if those threats weren't empty it would result in an alarming amount of deaths.

Be wary of example B.

Real murderers still exist.

"Oh well y'know, I was just—being dramatic, or something," you replied with an unconvincing air.

"Sounded serious enough to me."

All empires must fall, your meowing pal disowned you for ones that better suited their needs. A silent agreement among cats was that Baji was the superior human though he tried to stay fair in his distribution of petting.

"Mr. Baji's way popular huh? No worries, I'll keep your doggie thoughts a secret."

"What, so you're just gonna change the topic now?"

"Uh-huh," you affirmed, offering a few nods of enthusiasm. "I'll love ya no matter what, promise!"

"Whatever," he sighed.

"On the topic of changing topics—I didn't know ya had such expensive taste Mr. Baji," you said, shooting him a mischievous grin. "Since ya wanted to eat at a place like I bet ya robbed some rich lame-o, right?"

"Not even close. Does 'The Den' ring any bells?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Don't know how you managed that one. It was all over TV a few months back, people wouldn't shut up about it."

Responding with nothing more than a wide eyed smile you didn't have to say a word because that expression could easily be translated to, 'what the hell are we talking about?'

It's where I tried taking you earlier, he began.

"The owner had a seizure awhile back. Guy had some shit luck considering how long it took for anyone to realize, but since he's been away they've barely been able to keep the place open so prices keep getting lower." A smile of content formed as he went on, "I never would've been able to afford going to a place like that but now I get to go every week."

Grim tales don't sound as grave when the teller is multitasking his career as the world's best human; shelling out hands made for petting, they're purr-ball approved. Although, if you ask fellow humans some may say he's the worst and claim his hands were made for violence.

It's debatable depending on the day.

"Gotta wonder what'll happen first, him waking up or the place going bankrupt. If it were up to me it'd be neither," he continued.

Don't underestimate a cat's wit.

They're aligning themselves with a known threat.

He's making your pipe dream of an all cat army into a reality and his first target is that guy.

Despite offering the grin of a demon, Baji radiated like the sun as his up and coming army rubbed around him in every way imaginable.

"Is Mr. Baju confessing that the key to getting cheap food is to injure the owner?" You asked, offering a smile overflowing with backwards intent.

"If that's how you want to interpret it then go right ahead. While you're at it, I got some other places I wanna try out so make sure you hit those ones first."

"On it. But if I get caught ya gotta bail me out, 'kay?"

"What for?" he laughed. "I bet that asshole would be happy to bail you out."

…

"—y'know It's only right to be loyal to the places that were cheap from the start, plus it's super messed up to betray the bottom for a taste of the top. I'm real disappointed in ya Mr. Baji, I can't believe ya almost dragged me in."

"What, you scared he wouldn't?"

"Way wrong! I know he would but the scary part is what comes after, and also- ah, this and that…"

Shaking it off, your thoughts were present.

Strands of jet black draped over Baji's shoulders as his attention turned to you, a bit too intense to be petting cats.

"That asshole's not as great as you think he is."

"Mhm, he's greater isn't he?"

"Stop tryna twist shit around, you know what I meant."

Drawing in a deep breath you let out an equally deep sigh, giving off a clear image of distress.

"What are you sighing for?"

"Well, y'know…"

"Spit it out."

"I'm real worried—how am I supposed to invite ya to the wedding when ya call Mr. Sanzu 'that asshole'!?"

"You're joking-"

All at once,

Movement of the world stopped.

A four-way collision of personalities.

A stare down draped in silence.

Downcast gazes were blank.

Caught in the act of petting cats—no.

Caught in your newest article of dirtbag attire.

While you had intended on discarding the evidence to your crime that would no longer be necessary, considering how dead bodies are incapable of movement.

Blue eyes narrowed sweetly as the conviction of a smile lay dormant behind fabric.

"Yo," Muto said, bringing his hand up in a lazy greeting. "You two look busy."

"At least you could tell." Bajj grinned. "But If I wanted you two to come I would've asked."

It looked like a casual exchange but

It's not.

Something in the air shifted.

No, nothing shifted, they're just—talking.

If they're just talking, why does it feel so off?

Something invisible.

Is it how voices sound?

Is it how hands move?

Is it how eyes flicker?

Is it how heads turn?

Is it how lips curve?

Is it part of reality?

Is it real?

Is it off?

Is it?

Concentration surpassed human limits as you focused on feelings which consisted of 'off', if you focused any harder you might not have noticed Sanzu crouching in front of you.

"Hey-"

Oh, that's right.

You didn't notice.

"I swear I'm not a dirtbag—!" You burst out in a mix between shock and fear.

A startled exchange between roommates led pale eyes to widen, drawing in the remaining gazes to the scene.

Drawing in bad attention.

In a game of misunderstandings, you misunderstood best but that wasn't to say there weren't competitors. For example, a captain who until moments ago was a king among cats, but now seemed to be catless. While the obvious solution would be to blame the one who yelped, the hidden solution says to blame the silent cause.

Evidence is irrelevant if you dislike someone enough. After all, it's their fault for existing in the first place.

"We got a problem asshole?" Baji spat.

Dim light flickered.

Buzzing of a streetlamp filled up the silence.

Amber eyes wore a weaponized glare as they fixated on Sanzu. Two seconds from standing his fist were clenched, Baji was the result of that beehive you shook as a kid but—

"Just because I hate cockroaches doesn't mean I should tell people every time I see one," you implied but placid words withheld mangled intent. "Hey, Baji-"

"It's fine," Sanzu said.

An unphased presence slayed the progressing shit show with minimal effort. Briefly resting his hand on your head, Sanzu was the first to stand.

Dirtbag was thrown in for your ears only.

That would be an issue for later.

"We'll get out of your hair then." Muto scratched the back of his head, ten steps back on what should've been said. "Later."

"Bye-bye." You waved. "I'm not a dirtbag so never hate me, please!"

Crisis: averted.

Casualties: none.

Catless and crouching a void had been left.

Only two dirtbags remain.

One problem persists.

"Ya can't come to the wedding if ya don't get over your anti-Sanzu-itis." You frowned. "It's seriously the worst case I've ever seen but there's still hope, I think."

"I'm not in the mood," Baji snapped as his thirst for blood spiked. "And stop making shit up."

Mimicking Baji you plopped down onto the concrete where weeds peaked out from cracked summer getaways.

These cracks weren't familiar.

The ones you knew are gone.

Resting your head back against the wall, a feeling bubbled up from your stomach to your chest ushering on an airy smile.

To preserve it, you repeated.

"I'm getting married."

"You're getting married? Who decided that?"

Baji shot a dull stare into you as if anticipating the next round of bullshit.

"Me," you replied with dead seriousness. "If we're married Mr. Sanzu would never be able to leave me, so we're getting married."

Bad mood: nullified.

Hah ha—

Dreams are met with laughter.

Hysterical laughter.

Too much laughter.

If the pawed trio were near he was loud enough to deter them further, carrying on while tears formed on his tyranny of laughter.

"That's why you wanna get married?" Forcing out words through his cackling, Baji was incapable of composure. "Who knows, maybe I should feel bad for him instead."

"Laughing at a girl's dreams is seriously sad Mr. Baji. How lame of ya Mr. Lame-o."

Booing his overdone performance, it dwindled over time.

"Alright, alright," he said, managing the remnants of laughter. "My bad, alright?"

"Uh-huh. I might not be a cat but my revenge is just as scary, so get ready for laughter once I dig up your lame-o dreams."

"I'll make it easy, take a guess and if you get it right I'll tell you."

"A criminal?"

"Funny, I was thinking that'd be perfect for you."

"Pass, I'll be married full-time."

"You can do that as a job?" Baji asked, letting his head fall to the side.

"Dunno," you shrugged. "I got a reliable source I can ask so I'll get back to ya."

Reliable as they come, romance marathons are a key source of intel so it's bound to come up someday. Your options are slim since it's illegal to bring up the M word to Sanzu, for some reason watching romance marathons is illegal too.

"Either way, it still sounds boring," he yawned.

"That's just because ya just haven't hit your flourishing phase yet," you explained with conviction. "Okey-dokey, back to business—spill it!"

"What, you gave up already?"

"Mhm, it'd be bad if I used up all my power here, so make it easy and come clean; what is it?"

Though it was dim, Baji was identical to the color white; his grin stretched out wide enough to encapsulate a city where stars couldn't reach.

Since you suck at guessing I'll tell you, he said.

"It's—"

—never going to happen because;

Mr. Baji , you died.

#s:loyal as a dog #sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers sanzu #akashi haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

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flutteringdreams-matw · 3 years

Text

Out of Time (4)

Dan frowned as he looked down at Amity Park under the green shield. His wail definitely made a dent, but now it seemed like the infernal thing was back to normal. He brought himself down toward it, standing on top of it as he looked beneath him. The logo printed on his chest was visible across the town from this angle, shining hopefully up through the buildings through the shield and at the spectre above. It sickened him.

Walking across it, he felt the shield sizzle against his boots; the electric power keeping him out but also something else, something he couldn't quite place. "Figures," the dark Phantom muttered, testing it with his weight. "Even in this timeline, the brat still thinks he has a chance." His hands ignited with energy, darkening rapidly as he considered his next move. The energy dissipated as he gasped, heat rising from his core and through his nose as the shield shifted below his feet. Dan chuckled, waiting for an attack or quip, but it didn't come. Mildly intrigued at the lack of attack, he turned; this timeline's Danny Phantom floated up and out of the shield slowly, landing gracefully on top of the shield with a soft thud. Dan eyed the teen; still young, the infuriating green eyes and messy white hair still matched what he presumed the human half mirrored. Dan watched as small waves of power rippled at the boy's feet. "Surprised to see me?" he taunted.

Danny crossed his arms, but remained silent. His eyes looked the evil ghost over as he reassessed the situation. Namely how much he wasn't ready for this fight. The shield beneath his feet hummed as some of its energy started to flow back to his body, making him feel more confident in his powers for the first time in days. His confidence in his powers, however, did nothing to quell the uneasiness he felt as he stared back at his future self.

"What? Nothing to say?" he goaded. "No 'But I defeated you?' 'Not possible?'" He gestured to the shield below them. "But you gave me such a great welcome!"

Danny's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why are you here?" he asked finally.

Dan's eyebrow rose slightly. "Really? I thought it would be obvious by now." His hands ignited with green ecto-energy, making the younger half-ghost tense slightly.

"This isn't your world," Danny told him, hands also igniting in ecto-energy. "Not anymore."

"Of course it isn't," the evil ghost smirked. His ecto-energy disappeared as he started to pace around the teen. "You trapped me in a thermos for what? A year? Did you think I would just go away? I've been here for 10 years Danny. I'm inevitable."

"So what now? You know I'll never become you," Danny said. He looked down at the town below; the town's people were starting to notice the two ghosts above them.

Dan smirked at the worry his younger counterpart held for the town. "Funny isn't it, how they look like insects from up here," he replied, ignoring the question and drawing a glare from the younger ghost. Dan smiled slightly as he saw Danny's mask crack. "Feels like it too, when you watch them run from an ecto-blast." Danny's eyes lit up a little more neon in anger. The darker Phantom chuckled humourlessly. "How long do you think this will hold me Danny? How long before you realize you can't protect them from yourself." He smiled wickedly, his fists shining brightly against his aura. "Especially, when I do this!" Dan released a stream of ecto-energy towards shield, causing it to spark at the sudden attack. The shield rebound the energy upwards, sending a shower of green to explode above them under the grey clouds overhead. Dan watched the teen falter slightly; catching the way he tried to hide how much that blast affected him. The evil ghost smiled predatorily, confirming his theory as Danny let out a deep breath before meeting his gaze with a glare. "Oh, did that hurt? How about this!"

Dan flew straight for the teen, blast at the ready. Danny hastily brought up a small ecto-shield, managing to block the attack with some effort. Dan pushed down onto the shield, but Danny pushed back, repelling his older self backward. Flying up, Danny fired a flurry of ice blasts toward Dan, who dodged them with ease. The evil Phantom caught an ice blast and melted it, staring the younger down. Danny's eyes widened in shock slightly before launching himself toward the target. They tumbled in the air twice until Dan caught his balance, grabbed Danny's arm and threw him away from the battle. Danny landed hard on top of the shield, crying out in surprise as he skidded to a stop. Crouched low, he sent a disc of ecto-energy back at the ghost. It hit its mark, but Dan walked straight through, almost as if it didn't affect him.

Crap Danny thought, dodging a blast with a back handspring. He hissed as the missed blast hit the shield again. How do I manage this?

"What's your plan here?" Dan goaded, splitting himself in three. "You can't surprise me with the wail anymore. It's not like you have anything to beat me."

Eyes shining blue, Danny launched a series of ice blasts towards Dan. Caught by surprise, two of the duplicates disappeared as the older ghost growled. Dan's fists glowed light blue as a series of flames launched at the younger boy. Danny yelped but defended himself with an ice blast. The blasts collided, holding fast between the two ghosts. The fire blast started to push the ice blast back, Danny gritted his teeth as he was pushed back against the shield. Eventually, it exploded, sending both ghosts flying.

Danny hissed as small flames burned his hand. He stood up slowly and glared across the shield as Dan did the same. His future self smiled cruelly as he laughed. "Really?" he asked. "Did you think an ice core would do much against a heat one? My hair is literally on fire."

"Yeah, you're a real hot head," Danny retorted. Again, he launched an ice blast, this time freezing the top of the shield and Dan's feet to the shield. With the evil ghost trapped, he froze a ball of ecto-energy and threw it at Dan, watching it explode. Dan stood up slowly, glaring at Danny. Both Phantoms held the glare for a few tense seconds before they flew at each other.

:-=-:

Clockwork frowned atop the current apartment roof he called his home, watching Danny face off against his future self. They were locked in combat, trading punches and quips. Thankfully, they looked evenly matched. Clockwork shifted into a form of a child as he looked at his staff worriedly. If he was right, it wouldn't be long now.

"Are we going to let him have all the fun?"

Clockwork didn't turn as he felt Ethelwulf appear beside him. The Time Master could sense the concern for the boy oozing off the ghost; it almost rivalled his own. "Patience," Clockwork said calmly.

Ethelwulf scoffed. "That's all you ever say," he replied with a growl. His black wings opened, stretching up in anticipation. "That shield has been up for as long as we've been here; Danny's putting too much energy into it. If his future self is as powerful as you say he is, we should be doing more!"

"Everything is as it should be," Clockwork said, shifting forms into adulthood.

"Forgive me, I forgot how insufferable you can be," Ethelwulf countered, with a roll of his eyes. "Clockwork, he can't keep this up for much longer. We need to help him."

Clockwork ignored him, closing his eyes. He felt the world move, time shifting through the twists and turns of the time stream. The battles to come and the price made him shutter as he hoped that he was wrong. He sensed the battle above the town; Danny and Dan floated ten feet away from each other, the former looking more run down than the latter.

Three. Both Phantoms manoeuvred their way to the top of the shield again, neither looking away from the other. Clockwork's eyes flew open as he felt the timeline slow.

Two. Danny tensed as the older ghost yelled something at him. They both took a deep breath in quickly, bracing for what was to come.

One. Both Phantoms unleashed their wails, colliding in a wall of sound. The ground shook, as the raw power reverberated overhead. Screams from the town echoed below.

"Time out!"

A pulse of power erupted from within Clockwork's being and through his staff, a wave of blue washing over the town and outward. Grunting softly, the Master of Time doubled over in pain as the wave pushed past the shield toward the rest of the world.

"Clockwork!" Ethelwulf exclaimed, moving closer to his friend. Yellow eyes quickly assessed the ghost in concern.

Clockwork shifted into the form of an old man, hunched over and glowing. As the world ground to a halt, the eerie silence was overrun by the deafening roar of the Ghostly Wails above them. Ethelwulf looked down below of the humans frozen before turning his gaze back to the time ghost. Clockwork sighed heavily, recovering from the initial pain of stopping time before he looked at the confused face of wolfish companion.

"Why didn't they stop?" Ethelwulf asked, worry laced in his tone. The wail continued, unconcerned at the halt of time. "Clockwork – why didn't they stop?"

Clockwork's old eyes looked up at Danny Phantom with worry and self-loathing. "It's begun."

:-=-:

Danny's limbs shook as he continued the wail. He was siphoning the energy from the shield into the attack, but his evil self was powerful; there was no way he could keep this up for much longer. He was fading, vision swimming in front of him. Dan's wail started to push him backward but Danny stood his ground, pushing back. Eventually, the wails exploded, sending both ghosts flying backward and colliding hard with the shield.

Danny bit his lip as he felt the shield falter slightly. He focused in maintaining the shield, groaning in agony as he felt unconsciousness threaten to take him. Getting up on his hands and knees, he tried to shake his head to clear it.

"Is this it?" Danny stiffened as his evil self's snide drawl floated to his ears. "I almost expected more from you."

Come on Danny thought desperately. He searched deep within his core for any spare energy that he could muster.

"Still no quips?" the Dark Phantom provoked. He stomped the shield, releasing a small disc of ecto-energy from his feet. Danny cried out in pain as he felt it crack, but still managed to keep the shield. "Hmm… Maybe you're stronger than I give you credit for."

Realizing his only option, Danny breathed through the pain and focused on the raw energy deep within him. Already, he felt the electricity rise through his core, screaming to be released.

A wordless roar and a yelp of surprise broke through his concentration, making his eyes shoot open. Ethelwulf, appearing from nowhere, shot up through the shield and tackled Dan, large leathery wings moving like blades through combat. Dan retaliated quickly, sending multiple rounds of ecto-energy to his new foe. Ethelwulf dodged before sending a large series of ecto-blasts back at the evil spectre.

"Ethelwulf," Danny murmured in confusion. He pushed himself up slowly, standing slightly before falling. To his shock, a pair of hands grabbed him before he reached the surface of shield. Blue skin, a long grey beard and a purple cloaked ghost held the ghost boy up. "Clockwork?" Danny steadied himself with the help of the Time Master and looked at him in confusion. "What-"

"No time," Clockwork said simply, his voice still eerily serene even with the urgency in that statement. "Can you go on?" Danny nodded readily. Clockwork frowned, looking the boy over in hopes for a more truthful answer, but continued. "Okay, listen carefully. When time resumes – a natural portal will open and shut quickly above the town. We need to get Dan into it."

Danny looked from Clockwork to Ethelwulf and back again. "I don't understand," he said faintly, sinking further into Clockwork's grip.

"Later," Clockwork assured, holding him steady. "I'll explain when we get rid of the more pressing issue. Don't worry about the shield – focus on getting him out of your world."

Ethelwulf skidded across the shield, stopping in front of Clockwork and Danny. The wolf ghost growled protectively around the two. Dan floated down slowly, smirking at the trio of ghosts at his mercy.

"Meddling again Clockwork?" Dan asked, annoyed. He eyed the Time Master quickly, laughing as he saw the feeble form he was currently in. "What will you do, huh? Doesn't look like you're up to any tricks- Is that why you brought the mutt?"

Neither Ethelwulf nor Clockwork responded to the jab. Danny, on the other hand, broke away from Clockwork and stood his ground.

Dan laughed. "Oh, you're kidding me! Do you truly believe you three stand a chance against me? Don't you understand what I'm capable of?" A wave of ecto-energy flew at the evil ghost courtesy of Ethelwulf's wings.

"Any time now Clock!" Ethelwulf yelled. "Literally!" He flew back at Dan, a large paw hitting the ghost in the chest. Danny flew up slightly, holding his side, but watched Ethelwulf and Dan exchange attacks and looked for an opening.

"Time In!" Danny heard Clockwork exclaim. What he didn't notice was his friend double over in pain as time started to move forward.

True to Clockwork's word, Danny saw the natural portal open directly above the fighting Ethelwulf and Dan. I need to get him up there quickly… but how? Ethelwulf's tail hit Dan's shield – creating a series of sparks as the evil ghost was pushed upwards. Dan was so enthralled with Ethelwulf's attacks, he had stopped paying attention to Danny or Clockwork. Seeing the opportunity, Danny flew into a position where a good clean shot would send him flying. Ethelwulf and Dan flew higher still, until Dan was right where the younger ghost wanted. "HEY!" he yelled, getting the attention of both ghosts. "Leave my town ALONE!" Danny unleashed his Ghostly Wail for the second time, watching as Ethelwulf quickly darted out of the way so his older self got the brunt of the attack. Dan yelled in frustration as he was pushed up and through the ghost portal. Danny, utterly spent, fell a few feet and hit the shield as the portal closed. He gasped for air, forcing himself to stay conscious and in ghost form as he tried to process what happened.

As he tried to regain his breath, Danny felt Clockwork and Ethelwulf come around him. "You did good kid," Ethelwulf said, worry evident in his tone.

Danny shook his head. "The shield," he rasped, looking out desperately to the cracked shield around Amity Park. "He'll be back."

Ethelwulf frowned, watching the teen's desperation overpower any sense of reason. "Danny, you've already used too much core energy on that shield. It's a miracle you've made it this far," Ethelwulf told him gently. When Danny didn't answer, Ethelwulf turned to Clockwork for help. "You tell him."

Clockwork floated beside the kneeling boy, putting a withered hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny only barely recognized the ghost's presence. "Do what you need to do," he said quietly. "Just remember that you will not stop him if do this alone."

Danny nodded, accepting the advice. He put a shaky gloved hand on the shield and breathed deeply. His ghostly aura pulsed around him as the shield glowed, the cracks slowly being repaired. He shook in strain, trying to control the energy flowing through him. With the cracks repaired, Danny fell sideways with a groan, Clockwork catching the boy as he fell.

Ethelwulf sighed, moving closer to Danny. The ghost in question was still stubbornly conscious, breathing heavily against Clockwork's chest. "Rest, Halfling," Ethelwulf soothed, yellow eyes searching for any serious injuries. Thankfully, it only looked like he was bruised and exhausted. "Let's get you home."

:-=-:

"Here."

Maddie jumped slightly as a white mug with her husband's face on it settled in front of her at the computer station, the smell of fresh coffee greeted her senses. Glancing back, the ghost researcher turned to face her husband. "Thanks Jack. Is Danny back yet?"

Jack sat in the chair beside her, frowning. "Nope – but I'm sure it's fine Mads. It's not even 9 yet! He's probably on his way back now." Maddie smiled weakly and turned her attention back to the data on the screen, frowning in concern. Sensing her worry, Jack rolled the chair closer to her and glanced at the numbers and charts. "Find anything on Danny's files?"

"Kind of – there are a lot of schematics for weapons that would be good against sonic attacks, heat attacks, cold attacks – everything you can think of. Except…" Maddie trailed off, frowning as she mused her theory over in her head one more time. "Except, these files don't look like they're solely on this evil Phantom…"

Jack's eyes widened as he caught on. "They're files on if our Danny goes dark," he finished, looking over the data with new understanding. Jack let out a low whistle as he watched Maddie scroll through a list of powers his son currently held and a possible counter for each one. "He's really worried about this, huh?"

Maddie nodded, frowning as she looked down at her notes. "The only problem is that our tech reacts to Danny's ecto-signature in some way. There's nothing in these files saying that they have different ecto-signatures. So how do we create weapons to defeat this ghost if they also target Danny? Or a ghost shield?" She rubbed her head in her hands. "How can we help him if he believes the only way how is to hurt him?"

Jack rubbed his wife's back soothingly. "First of all, Danny doesn't think we're going to hurt him," Jack reassured confidently. "He wouldn't have given us this file if there wasn't a threat. Second, the ghost we're up against is half Danny – or a version of him at any rate. Even if he's worried about turning evil, he's probably the best one to judge what will work against that ghost." Jack paused for a second, taking in everything he just said. "Mads, that's it! The Ecto-Signature!"

Maddie turned to her husband in confusion, before her eyes lit up in understanding. "He's half of Danny! Meaning that the other half will affect his ecto-signature! All we have to do is find out which ghost is the other half!" She flipped through her notes quickly. "Danny said Dan had some fire attacks, which must be what he's referring to here." She pointed at the screen under heat attacks. She frowned as she noticed a small acronym. "What does 'CH' mean?"

"It could be anything really. Unit of measure for ecto-energy? Core Heat perhaps? Personally, I think of cheese but maybe I'm just hungry."

Maddie tensed, a memory of Danny calling Vlad a 'Cheesehead' running across her mind. Making a note to inquire later, she relaxed slightly and nodded to her husband. "Let's just ask Danny, hmm?" she said, picking up the coffee and taking a sip. Looking at the clock, she frowned slightly as she noticed the time. 9:20. "Jack, he should be back by now."

Jack opened his mouth to respond but was cut off. Both hunters jumped as the ghost alarm went off, the shrill beeping intensifying the worry that both parents shared. They jumped into action; Jack typed in the password to disable the alarm as Maddie pulled up the map of the town. "There's a huge spike of ecto-energy above the city!" she cried.

Jack swallowed nervously as he looked at the map. There were 2 dots on the screen, both with high ecto-energy levels, clashing on screen. He stared as both dot collided with each other and rebounded away. "How long?"

"Looks like thirty minutes – give or take." Maddie reached for her cellphone and grimaced as she saw the twenty missed calls between Jazz, Sam and Tucker. Jack didn't miss the look of dread on her face.

"We need –" Jack started before the entire lab was coated with a soft blue light. Both Fentons froze as time halted. The analog clock on the wall continued moving, as if nothing was wrong. The ticking clock continued until it read 9:40 before the blue light washed over them again, resuming. "To go!" Jack finished. As both hunters ran to acquire weapons, the computer let out another shrill beep.

Maddie, frowning in worry, ran over to the screen. "What on earth…" she said, looking at the screen. Not even ten seconds ago, there were two ecto-entities on the screen; now there were four. "Jack!" she called. Maddie watch as three of the dots ganged up on the last one. "Jack, the TV. We need eyes now!"

Sensing her worry, Jack fumbled with the remote and turned the T.V. on. Sure enough, there was coverage of the ghost attack from ground level, but no sight of Danny Phantom. As she combed through the grainy footage, she managed to make out an animal looking ghost with black wings fighting with a larger looking ghost with blue skin and flaming hair. "Where's-" she started worriedly, before the audio crackled and a loud wailing blasted through the speaker of the T.V. Maddie let out a sigh of relief as Danny came into the frame, attacking with his Ghostly Wail. Danny attacked, pushing the enemy up and out of sight. As the larger ghost disappeared, she was brought out of her stupor as Danny fell, hitting the shield hard. "Danny," she whispered worriedly.

"That looks like Ethelwulf," Jack said, pointing to the animal ghost. He then moved his finger to the last small figure on frame, who was dressed in purple. "Who's that?"

Maddie shook her head. "Change in plans, first aid kit. And where did we put the E-Scanner?" As they gathered supplies, Maddie looked back at the T.V. screen again and gasped as the trio of ghosts disappeared. "Where'd they-"

A bright light cut Maddie off as both Fentons shielded their eyes. When the light subsided, they saw Ethelwulf's large wings opening to reveal the ghost in purple holding their son. Not giving anyone time to readjust, Ethelwulf shifted forms to stand on two legs, getting rid on his wings and tail and moved directly to the Fentons. "He's okay," the ghost assured the worried parents. "With some patching up and a little bit of rest, he should be fine."

Both parents stared at the three ghosts as they processed what just happened. Maddie was the first to recover, eyes honing in on Danny's limp form. "Someone care to tell me what the hell is going on here?" she asked angrily. She glared at the quiet ghost currently holding her son. "And who the hell are you!?"

The ghost was unfazed by her anger and just floated closer to the ground. He nodded at Jack, silently beckoning him closer. Jack hesitated for a second before glancing at Danny and hurried forward. He took his son his arms as Danny finally reverted forms, unable to hold out any longer. Maddie's anger disappeared as Danny relaxed into his father's hold, unconscious. "My name is Clockwork," he finally replied serenely. Both Fentons turned to each other in recognition of the name. "As for your second question, that is a rather long story."

Link to Ecto-Storm Series

First/Last

#cartoons #danny phantom #fanfiction #danny fenton #action #adventure #cross posted on ao3 #no phantom planet #But his parents know #pls like and reblog #ecto storm series #Out of Time #multichapter #fight scene #dan appears #Clockwork #OC #Hurt!Danny

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ashsilla · 3 years

Text

Neutral Ground

Book: Foreign Affairs

Pairing: F!MC (Esther Averell) x M!Blaine Hayes

A/N: At a diplomat’s ball, Esther and Blaine repel each other like magnets under the watchful camera lenses studded all around the room--but who’s to say what might happen in the absence of surveillance? Perhaps the building’s elevator might be of some use...

Esther sipped moodily at her non-alcoholic cocktail. She was under strict orders from her mother to not touch a single drop of anything stronger than soda for the whole evening, and judging by the way it was going, the task was going to be a lot harder than it should be.

It’s not like the event itself was to blame.

The ballroom was decorated in flags from each country on the continent, and delicacies of each country were presented, sprawling, on banquet tables on one side of the room. A large space had been cleared for dancing at the center of the space, and clustered like floral bouquets against the far walls were silk-draped tables with matching chairs.

It was hard for it to not feel almost prison-like, though, with all of the cameramen circling the room like vultures, snapping sly pictures of all the attendees.

Esther tried to ignore the lenses pointed in her direction. She knew what they were after. Almost instinctually, she raised her dark eyes from the sugary drink in her hand to the opposite side of the dance floor, where Blaine Hayes stood. He looked absolutely amazing in a perfectly tailored suit--dark green velvet with a cream silk shirt beneath, unbuttoned a little more than was appropriate for such an event.

She couldn’t help but to notice that her ensemble seemed to match his.

Her mother had shipped in a dress made by one of Rutherland’s best tailors: a gorgeous tea-length gown, cut like something from the 1950s, with a full skirt like a bell that swept elegantly out from the nipped bodice. She’d even been given some of the family diamonds to wear for the evening, twinkling at her collarbone, pulling everyone’s gaze to the sweetheart neckline of her dress.

The fabric was the same dark green as Blaine’s suit.

“Hel-lo,” said an insistent, irritated voice.

Esther started, looking guiltily to her right. Dionne, dressed splendidly in a slinky maroon shift, was tapping her gilded foot.

“Sorry.”

Dionne sighed. “Whatever. It’s not like I’ve been saying your name for the past minute or anything.” The princess took a dainty sip of her moscato and forced a smile. “I see you’ve found something more interesting to look at, anyway.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Esther replied quickly, eyes darting at the nearest cameraman. She hoped she hadn’t been that obvious.

Her friend followed her worried stare. “Oh, relax. I noticed because I know you. Otherwise I’d think you were just...dissociating.”

“Wonderful,” Esther grumbled, and downed the rest of her drink. “I think I need some air.”

Dionne snorted. “Well, the balcony’s closed off. You can thank your boyfriend’s antics from last year for that. You’ll have to go downstairs.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Esther warned, eyes sliding once again to the cameraman.

“You’re no fun right now,” Dionne sighed. “Find me when you work it out.” She pushed her way into the crowd and was swallowed by the room.

Esther rolled her eyes, setting her empty glass on the nearest table. She really did need some air. Carefully, trying not to draw attention to herself, she made her way across the room, towards the main entrance. Upon reaching it, she glanced back, but it didn’t look like any of the cameras were facing her.

She slipped out through the grand doorway and towards the elevator bank. Though she wasn’t on an upper floor, going down two flight of stairs in her shoes would be murder. Thankfully, the elevator arrived quickly, and she stepped in with relief.

As the doors began to glide shut, a green blur darted into the elevator. “What--” Esther started, but the words dried up on her tongue as she found herself looking into Blaine’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here, Rutherland.” He had that infuriating smirk on.

Finally finding her voice she said, “Stop it. I know you saw me get in here.”

Blaine shrugged, all nonchalance. “Seems possible.” His grin widened at her flustered look. “Going down, I assume?” He was looking at the elevator buttons.

“Um...yes.” Esther leaned back against the wall of the elevator. He mirrored her, resting his shoulder blades on the closed elevator doors. “Aren’t you going to push the button?” she pressed.

“You’ve been avoiding me all night,” he replied, and his smirk was gone. Without it, his face was unreadable.

She shifted her weight to her other foot. “Well, there are cameras everywhere. I kind of have to.”

“You’re saying,” he drawled slowly, eyes running over her face, “that if there were no cameras, it would be different?”

Once again, Esther found herself speechless. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Blaine laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You know, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at me,” she finally got out, white-hot irritation sparking in her chest. “I hear it’s your fault I couldn’t even go out on the balcony tonight. What’d you do, anyway?”

Blaine met her gaze evenly. “Last year, my girlfriend and I...let’s just say we gave everyone on the ground a really really great show.”

She couldn’t help it. A slight sting of betrayal stopped her breath for a moment, though it was absurd. They weren’t anything to each other but enemies. They couldn’t be.

“Hit the button, please, or get out,” she snapped.

For a moment, he stood, watching her with the same emotionless expression. Then he pressed the button for the ground floor. The elevator began moving. Silence stretched between them.

Then his hand darted back to the buttons and pressed the emergency stop. The elevator screeched to a halt, throwing off her balance. Esther grabbed the bar for support. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

In the next moment, his unreadable facade seemed to flake away, leaving something almost vulnerable. “I’m doing,” he said softly, “what I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

Before she had the chance to respond, Blaine had closed the distance between them and he was kissing her.

It was what she’d been wanting to do all night too.

He tasted like gin--clearly he was not sworn to the same sober night she was--and smelled of expensive cologne, something clean and pleasant. Beneath all that, he was solid and warm and insistent beneath her palms as she raised her shaking hands to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face down closer to her own.

“Let me tell you,” he murmured against her open mouth, “how amazing you look tonight.” His lips began to slide up the curve of her cheek to her ear. “I love the dress.” With a smirk, he slid a finger along her sloping neckline.

Her breath shuddered. “Tease,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “I’m not a tease if I intend--” he touched his lips to her left cheek, “--to follow through--” then to her right cheek, “--on all accounts.” His lips finally met hers again, and she slid her hands down his back, relishing in the softness of his velvet jacket, but wishing all the same that it was gone.

She pulled her hands to his chest and began to unbutton his blazer. He grinned against her mouth as she shoved it from his shoulders, hearing it drop down to the floor with a soft rustle. He pulled back an inch, meeting her eyes. “Careful with that. It was expensive.”

“Oh, shut up,” she sighed, and pulled him back for another kiss. He groaned against her mouth, hands splaying at her waist, gripping her tightly, holding her as if at any moment she might turn to smoke or disappear. Blaine spun her suddenly, lips never leaving hers, and pinned her against the opposite wall. Esther felt too late as her hipbone pressed too hard to the circuit.

“Blaine--” she said, and the elevator jerked back to life, descending once more.

She took in his disheveled appearance--his dark hair was tousled, tousled from her hands, and his jacket pooled, forgotten, on the floor. Panic flared in her gut. “There might be cameras down there!” she hissed.

Something like regret flickered in his eyes. “Don’t worry.” He swung down, retrieving his jacket and pulling it back on. “They won’t know anything.” Blaine reached out, tucking her dark locks back into place, and planted a last, gentle kiss to her forehead. “Now,” he murmured against her brow, “when that door opens, yell something at me.”

They jumped apart as the elevator pinged loudly, announcing their arrival on the ground floor. As the doors slid open, a slew of cameramen huddled just outside, lenses reared.

Esther glared at Blaine--hopefully it looked real. “Don’t come near me again,” she hissed at him.

Blaine scowled back at her, but as she stared back, a slight glimmer in his eyes gave him away.

She fled the elevator as fast as she could, barely making it onto the street before she burst into laughter.

#foreign affairs #blaine hayes #blaine hayes x mc #blaine x mc #blaine hayes fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fa

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shinsousbedroom · 3 years

Text

Stars and their Distance

Daiya no Ace misawa FWB AU, 1/10 chapters

Miyuki Kazuya, a depressed, workaholic catcher in the NPB, and Sawamura Eijun, a frustrated influencer who just got dumped, are both looking for temporary distraction. The casual, no-strings-attached friends with benefits thing they stumble into is exactly that.

Well, it would be if either of them knew how to do casual.

[Read on AO3.]

Chapter 1: Spinning

Excerpt from “Ace of Hearts: a blog about when love comes outta left field!; Q&A: Bad Break-Up Blues”

“[…] Think of relationships like this. You’re a pitcher on the mound and there’s a line up of batters waiting to knock your ball outta the park. These are your dating prospects. When you’ve gotten hurt pitching before—tore a tendon, drilled the batter, balked, whatever it was—you might not wanna pitch again, right? But the only surefire way to lose the game is to not throw the ball at all.

“You might be thinking, ‘But Eijun, if the batter hits a home run off your pitch, aren’t you losing the game?’ Well, if you think the point of the game is to win, sure. But to me, the point of baseball isn’t victory. It’s playing the best game you can with the best players you can. The same can be said for love. Some batters will foul out early, and some runners will never make it all the way home. But when you make that connection, when that bat slams the ball out of the park and the whole field feels the electric rush of a phenomenal play that you helped make—isn’t that a beautiful moment to chase after? Isn’t that feeling worth the risk that comes with love?

“So no matter how unlikely a batter steps up to your plate—and there will be batters you didn’t anticipate—throw the pitch! I promise, every strikeout and home run just makes you a better pitcher and brings you a step closer to a beautiful game. […]”

***

“Did you have to move right after the end of the season?” Kuramochi wiped off the sweat from his face with the bottom of his blue shirt. The whole thing was already drenched dark, consistently doused with water the whole day through as Kuramochi drained bottles over his head to beat back the unseasonably hot September day. “Take a fucking break first, Miyuki.”

Kazuya spat out a handful of screws. The bitter, metallic aftertaste clung to his mouth. “Why delay?” he said, tossing the instruction manual for his shelf to the side in frustration. It skittered across the hardwood floor and into Chris’ calf.

Chris plucked the booklet up and thumbed through the pages of mildly helpful pictograms, eyeing them warily against Kazuya’s clear lack of progress. “Yeah, Miyuki. Why delay?”

Kazuya shot Chris a sour look and flopped back onto the ground with a groan, defeated. “Not like we’re busy during postseason this year.”

They sighed in unison, united in the bitterness of loss.

At least Chris’ team had been only one out from the Climax Series. The Swallows hadn’t come close, and even though it was expected from a rebuild year, the loss still rankled. Small mercies, though: Kazuya could rub in the fact that the Swallows hadn’t been last place in their league unlike the Mariners.

Suck it, Kuramochi. He’d take his victories where he could.

Kazuya stuck his hand into the air, spreading his fingers wide as the overhead lights filtered between them. “Anyway. Moving is work, and you all banned me from working for the next four months. So really, I’m being responsible here.” His hand flopped down next to him with a hard thunk.

Kuramochi trudged over, heavy steps echoing through the empty apartment, until his head popped into Kazuya’s vision, arms crossed and scowl fierce. “If you wanna try to fight this again, just give me a fucking reason to pin you into a headlock until you’re crying for mercy.”

Kazuya grabbed at his ankle, rolling onto his stomach for a second swipe as Kuramochi danced out of reach.

“You can’t pull a fast one on the cheet—AH!”

His ankles caught the edge of the shelf boards, knocking Kuramochi onto his ass. The wooden slats scraped across each other as they slid out of their neat stacks, thumping and scratching the floor until they were criss-crossed between Kazuya cackling into the floor on his stomach and Kuramochi, shocked and sprawled across the debris.

“Fucking build your furniture, Miyuki!” He cradled his foot in his hands, holding it up to inspect as he twisted it every which way. “We’re not doing the same thing as last time, when it took you a full year to finally put all your shit together.”

The weight of apathy slid back into Kazuya’s limbs, edging out the laughter that had given him a moment of relief. “What if I just didn’t?”

“Is that what you want?” Chris replied evenly.

He lolled his head towards Chris. Despite the heat, Chris had spent all day in a black turtleneck, never once hinting he was even mildly uncomfortable even at the peak of the day’s heat, lugging in heavy boxes from the sun-warmed streets. Now sitting on the floor among bubble wrap and crumpled paper, legs kicked out in front of him and waves of brown bangs framing his face, he still looked as wholly put together as ever.

Even when Kazuya knew beyond a doubt Chris was the epitome of keeping a stone face even when he was going through the worst of it, he still couldn’t help but be jealous.

Kazuya went back to staring at the unfamiliar gray tiles on his new ceiling. “It would be pretty funny to leave my apartment unfurnished to spite Kuramochi.”

“Finish the shelf.” Chris tossed the manual back.

“Kominato’s the one who left the task half-done,” Kazuya said, closing his eyes, overwhelmed in a sudden wash of fury and helplessness.

He opened his eyes to see Kuramochi and Chris hovering above him again. Both their brows were furrowed, Kuramochi’s fist clenched at his collar, Chris frowning mildly.

“I’m fine,” Kazuya said brusquely.

They glanced at each other, then back at Kazuya.

He sat up, forcing the other two to reel back to avoid knocking their heads together. “I’m 27, not 7,” he said, testily. “I don’t need to be put under a watch, I’m a grown ass adult.”

“We aren’t gonna—we can’t sit to the side and watch you nearly kill yourself from overwork again this off-season.”

“Don’t exaggerate—“

“You said you had it together last year, but you didn’t. So you’re getting strict rules this year,” Kuramochi tugged at his hair, a frustrated sneer on his face. “The Swallows and your agent both know not to let you pile on more than your bare minimum until preseason. And the rest of us are going to check on you regularly because we care about your health, even when you don’t. Got it?”

“It’s not overwork,” he said, falling into the same argument that had been chipping away at him for a year now.

“Then what is it?”

The only coping mechanism that works. The only way I can pretend to feel anything off the diamond. The only thing that makes me tired enough to sleep at night without baseball 24/7.

He settled on: “It’s just work. Making a living, some might say.”

“Hard to do that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed.”

“That won’t happen again. I was just stressed and tired and a bad day caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, it won’t again because we’re gonna help make sure the off-season doesn’t wreck you again after a long history of hiding your fucking problems until they explode.”

“At least you can’t take conditioning away from me.”

“Follow the plan your trainers set for you.” Chris’ voice cut into Kazuya’s stubbornness. “Please don’t joke about this with me.”

After a moment, Kazuya nodded his head, brusque.

Kuramochi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to break the awkward air that had sprung up between them. “Isn’t exercise supposed to help depressed people? Boost your serotonin up or some shit like that?”

“Just my luck it doesn’t,” Kazuya muttered. He cleared his throat. “Can we go back to harassing me about how bad I am at unpacking?”

“We wouldn’t harass you if you just did it.” Kuramochi stood back up and kicked at a box as he went back to sweeping the floors. “Unpack before the season starts up again. You have nearly five months. If you’re feeling feisty, try decorating your apartment, too.”

“My entire personality is baseball. I don’t care about interior design. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“You used to. Pick up your old hobbies. Bring out that telescope you had at back at Waseda. Read a memoir. All the shit you can’t do during the season, drag ‘em out into the open again.”

The wrong answer, he knew, was to reiterate that he didn’t care about any of that anymore. Seriously. “You two are busy-bodies.”

Chris handed him the power drill then returned to the pile of securely wrapped glass kitchenware. “It’s called friendship,” he said, bubble wrap crinkling.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Just try, Miyuki. Please.”

“Sure,” he said, flippantly, knowing the lie didn’t pass unnoticed from the sag in Kuramochi’s shoulders. He thumbed through the instructions, pushing aside the guilt welling into his throat. Kazuya needed this conversation to be over. “Chris-senpai, where’d you put the drill bits?”

***

“Hjnhbgfgvbhnjmknjbhgvfdbghnjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj” wasn’t the most eloquent start to Eijun’s next blog post. Of course, Eijun normally didn’t start his articles by rolling his face across the keyboard in frustration, but considering how little he’d written in the past week, this was as good a draft as any.

Eijun’s eyes flung open as the laptop shifted from under his face, tipping his head off to thunk into the table. He rubbed at his forehead, and blinked up to find Harucchi tapping delicately at the keyboard while the other hand balanced the device in the air. “Eijun-kun,” said Harucchi, peering from around the screen, “not your finest work.”

Eijun sat up and scowled, the lines of his face scrunching against the keyboard indents on his skin. “What would you know about it?”

“I’ve been editing your posts for years,” Harucchi said. He settled the laptop in front of Eijun, then settled into the chair across from him. “If you’d like me to stop now, I can happily use that time in other ways.”

The dishes rattled when Eijun slammed his palm onto the table. “You’re not allowed to ditch me like that!”

Harucchi raised his eyebrows. “Says the man who’s been avoiding me.”

A double blow of panic and then confusion struck him. He frowned and swiveled his head around. Snaking line at the counter, coffee scenting the air, a low hum of incomprehensible chatter: this was definitely the coffee shop he’d just discovered this morning and came to by himself and didn’t tell Harucchi about. “How’d you find me?”

“You should stop posting your location on Instagram if you don’t want to be found,” he offered with a gentle smile.

“You don’t live anywhere near here.”

“A teammate just moved to the neighborhood. It was pure luck I happened to be there while you happened to be here.” He ran his fingers against the edge of a plate by Eijun’s elbow, empty of all but crumbs. “It’s a cute shop. New haunt for you?” he asked, a touch too casual.

Eijun averted his eyes, lips pinching. He knew what Harucchi was really asking. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“I’m doing fine,” Eijun insisted. “Really.”

“I’m glad you stopped feeling obligated to go to the other cafe.” His voice was barely loud enough to reach Eijun, covered by the clatter and call of employees, and a particularly rowdy group of seven students packed at a four person table next to his little corner.

“The old place got too many baristas who sucked,” Eijun lied. As if Harucchi didn’t already know that he’d only just shoved his pride aside enough to accept he’d lost his favorite coffee shop to the break-up. “Had to find a new one.”

Harucchi pried open the plastic lid to his coffee, blowing at the steam rising from the cup. He drew in a long, slow slip of his drink. “Maybe a fresh start here means a fresh start with the blog. Talk about grinding new beans, or something…?” Eijun blanched, well aware that Harucchi’s innocent reputation was a front.

“If you think I am going to subject my loyal followers to love advice using bean grinding as the topic—”

“You’ll have to excuse me if you had an idea in mind already. I’d thought from the keysmashing that you hadn’t.” Eijun aimed a kick at his shin under the table. Without looking, Harucchi crossed his legs, as if he’d planned on it for that exact moment all along instead of the attempt to dodge Eijun’s ire that it really was. “Is there a reason you can’t find an appropriate topic for your next post?”

Eijun cheeks puffed out, determined for two whole seconds not to tell Harucchi the truth, before blurting out, “I promised Wakana we’d wait a few months before officially announcing we broke up.” And yep—there it was, that classic Kominato passively skeptical look that circled past nonjudgmental so thoroughly that it ended up aggressively intimidating. The one that meant Harucchi was seconds away from bulldozing through all the nonsense he was seeing ahead of him. Eijun lived in terror of it. “She wanted to give us a chance to recuperate in private first,” he muttered, defensive.

“Eijun-kun.”

“I know, I know! A smart idea for people like Wakana, but I don’t…like wallowing like this. I can’t keep sitting here thinking about how much she doesn’t want me, and it’s all I want to write about. But I can’t post any of it. It’s been nearly two months, and I haven’t moved on. I’ve just gotten madder.”

“You two didn’t consider posting a small announcement saying you were over but you needed time? Space?”

“I couldn’t ask her.” Eijun subsided, spinning his teacup in its saucer with a single finger hooked through its tiny handle. “I owe her, Harucchi. The only reason I started lifestyle and romance blogging was because Wakana got me into it. I made my start on her profiles with her followers. Talking about her now? Why we broke up? Even if I want to, it sounds like betraying her. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to talk shit about her, when we’re both in the same influencer circles.”

Harucchi tilted his head, and when Eijun didn't continue on after several seconds, he prompted, “There’s more.”

So much for the dumb jock stereotype.

“If I write it, then I feel like I’m giving up on her. On us ever being something together, again.” He crossed his arms onto the table, elbows shoving the dishes and laptop uncomfortably close to the edge of the small table, and laid his head on his forearms. He closed his eyes, and said quietly into his chest, “I still love her, Harucchi.”

“I know, Eijun-kun.” A warm hand squeezed his elbow. Between their silence, the monstrous table of college students packed up and left, and suddenly the shop settled into a calm Eijun needed.

He poked his head up from the comfort of his arms to stare at Harucchi. He was steadily sipping his coffee, one hand resting on Eijun’s elbow. His pink hair had pulled out of the bun at his nape and fell into windswept wisps framing his face and neck. He’d long since stopped wearing Ryou-san’s hand-me-downs in favor of softer, luxe sweaters and slacks, the only true expense he indulged in despite his lucrative status as a rising star for the Swallows.

Altogether, he looked gentle, dangerously so. On the diamond or off, it was easy to be lulled into a sense of security right before he whacked an unpleasant truth out of the park.

Harucchi pulled his hand back and apologized with a glance. Eijun wasn’t sure why…until he started speaking. “You make a living off of posting about your life—and romance, in particular. You’ve never hidden your past relationship troubles from your followers, however difficult it was to express. It’s part of your brand at this point.”

Eijun’s mouth twisted as he sat up. “Wakana isn’t a branding tool.”

“No one is saying that,” Harucchi said patiently. “What I am saying: you underestimate how much of your own work goes into your success. Aotsuki was certainly helpful—but your personality and your words are why people stay. People trust you.

“You’re good at what you do, Eijun-kun. You’re honest and kind in your observations, to yourself, to your partners, to strangers, despite how difficult and personal love is. When the time comes, whatever you post about Aotsuki will be the same.” Harucchi shrugged. “Also, I’ll edit out anything that makes you sound insensitive.”

Eijun let out a heavy sigh, stretching his arms into the air and shaking off the melancholy. “Thanks for not letting me fall on my own sword.”

“What are friends for?”

For all that he felt better, though, Eijun was still stuck staring at a blinking cursor at the end of a line of drivel. “That still doesn’t solve my problem. I don’t have a clue what to post next. The schedule I followed is trash now without personal updates of me and Wakana. I haven’t been able to binge any of the manga or shows I wanted to review, either. All I got left is the advice column, but if I keep that up with nothing else, I might as well change the blog name to Dear Eijun instead of Ace of Hearts.”

Harucchi stared at him, calculating out something as he took in Sawamura’s restlessness. “You don’t have to keep writing about romance.”

“That’s what I started the blog for.”

“But that’s not why you started writing and recording back at Seidou. You’ve had success with your baseball analysis and tutorials on YouTube and Instagram. You could even say you’ve been neglecting them to chase after romance.”

Eijun groaned, loud and theatrical enough to make the meek businessman behind him jump in shock. “Maybe if I got as much engagement talking about how stupid the idea of celebrity athletes are when it’s a team sport—”

“See?” he cut in, tilting his cup toward Eijun. “You already have a topic to post about.”

“Baseball is my hobby, not my job,” he said mulishly, jaw jutting out. “My dad wrecked his love of music that way! I’m not gonna risk hating baseball after he spent my whole life yelling at me not to ‘monetize my interests’ while holding me in a headlock. That’s asking for the biggest lecture of my life!”

“You can always stop if it’s not the direction you want to go. You’re not getting married to the idea.”

“Don’t bring up marriage, I just got dumped!”

Harucchi pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Fine, don’t think of it as a marriage,” he said. From Harucchi, the sliver of impatience he let free was the equivalent of hauling Eijun by the collar and shaking him down. “Flirt with baseball. Go on a few dates. Get a benefit or two out of it. Does the metaphor suffice now?”

Eijun gasped. “Harucchi! You’re too innocent for that sort of talk!”

“My brother is Kominato Ryousuke, and my best friend writes a blog about romance and sex that I edit,” he said, even as his quiet voice went squeaky and his face mottled bright red from embarrassment.

“Maybe I should change my blog to save you the embarrassment.”

“I also admit I have a request of you,” Harucchi said sheepishly, pressing a hand to his cheek. “The Swallows want me to get more heavily involved in PR this offseason, and I could use your help figuring out what I’d actually like to do instead of going along with every idea they propose. I’ve seen what they make the other players do, and I’m not interested in doing the exact type of promo they’ve done the past few seasons.”

Eijun crossed his arms and leaned back, chin tilting up defensively. “If you’re trying to convince me by pretending you need help—”

Harucchi shook his head, bangs bouncing across his forehead. “I hope you’ll find value or inspiration in it, too, but I was going to ask, regardless.” He grimaced into his cup. “The players who carry most of the strain of Swallows marketing are…otherwise occupied this offseason. I was volunteered to step in; management’s been wanting me to raise my profile for a while. I can’t really say no, so I may as well make the most of it.”

“I don’t want a pity job.”

“Please, be reasonable.” Harucchi smiled the shy, dreamy, polished smile the Swallows had been trying to splash across their advertising since he joined the team. “It’s a pity favor.”

Eijun snorted, relaxing into his chair again. “Fine,” he said, pulling open a clean document on his laptop. “Let’s brainstorm.”

#daiya no ace #daiya no a #misawa #daiya no ace fanfic #lolo's fic writing tag

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sabineelectricheart · 3 years

Text

A Very Good Morning

Summary: On the morning after their wedding, Dante is sleeping in. Lili has a wicked idea.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Oral sex in the morning. Oral sex in the morning between married people.

It was a beautiful dawn over Burlone, as it often was during the hot Mediterranean summers in the small town.

Liliana Falzone, the newly-minted lady of one of the great houses in their little corner of the Italian peninsula, stirred as the sunlight streamed through the thick curtains on their bedroom windows, dancing on the breeze that blew through the opening they left the night before as to relieve the heat.

Her body ached slightly, the good kind of pain, of waking up after a long night of celebration. If the woman was to be honest, she wanted to remain in bed until high hours in the afternoon, but her industrious spirit would not let her keep still, so she prepares to get up and busy with breakfast preparations. She had, indeed, an army to feed every morning from now on, and she was excited to begin.

It was then when she felt a tug on the sheets. As the blonde woman looked to her side on the wide bed, she noticed that Dante was still asleep. Usually, her newly-wedded husband was the first to awaken, always busy with something, with a very restless sleep, ready to get up to his feet, pick up a gun and shoot an assailant.

Needless to say, it was hard for the wife to see him sleeping in such earnest and vulnerable manner and it probably would not be long before he rose. He looked so peaceful and content. If he was dreaming, Lili hoped the dream was a happy one.

His platinum blond hair was tousled against the pillow, the cowlick that often fell to his eyes while working was now standing up on an angle, and his chin was soiled with dry saliva. A soft snore was heard in the rhythm of his breathing.

Lili could not resist reaching over and gently stroking his soft, silky locks. She then lowered her hand and pulled back the blanket. Before going to sleep, they had consummated their union, of course, and after a lot of consummation, they were both so tired, every bedtime ritual had to be forsaken. Dante, like herself, was completely naked underneath the modest bedsheets.

A smile graced her features as her emerald green eyes travelled down his taut body, taking in his broad chest and toned abdominal muscles. As she looked lower, she could see that even though he was sleeping, he nevertheless was rising early. As expected from a virile man.

All that observation was rising a heat on her own stomach, and it so fomented a wicked idea.

Lili moved downward and lowered her head, careful not to let her long hair touch his skin, lest he woke up before she had a chance to put her plans in motion, and then took his length into her mouth.

As she began sucking, Dante’s violet eyes fluttered open. His body tensed up, and the wife thought briefly he would pull back or push her away in surprise, but he soon relaxed once more, while smiling softly.

As to keep pace, Lili pulled back and grinned naughtly, then began licking his shaft. She flicked her tongue back and forth across the tip, then took him all the way in once again.

As she moved her mouth up and down, she caressed his balls, as he had asked her to do in other opportunities. As she knew he very much preferred. When he began to moan softly, she increased the pace of her movements, to gauge the final reaction out of him.

“Good God, Lili!” He cried out as he climaxed.

Once the kingpin had had his release with as much readiness as he can possibly muster, she pulled back and swallowed, placing her hands softly on her lips as to make sure there was nothing left there, and then once more lay down lazily beside Dante.

He passed her a goblet of water, probably stale from laying untouched throughout the night on the jar, and pulled her close enough to feel her flushed heat against his midsection.

As the woman finished drinking her water and cleaning her throat, the husband kissed her adoringly, as if her lips held the sort of blessing both of them were destined to protect. He, then, looked into the depths of her eyes, gazing upon her millennial soul.

“What a way to wake up.” He smiled. “How about I return the favour?”

“I would love that very much.” She told him.

He kissed her again, then began moving lower, through her slender neck and collarbone. He kissed her breasts, then took each of her nipples into his mouth, making sure his attention was evenly and patiently split between the two. As he feels the slight metal coldness of the ring which he had placed on Lili’s left hand yesterday tugging on his hair, Dante knew it was time to move on.

The husband, then, kissed his way down her stomach. He lowered his head and kissed her inner thighs. As his tongue found her clit, she reached downward and placed her other hand on his head, running her ten fingers through his hair, as if to keep balance even while laying down. Her head begin to feel faint and her breath turns shallow.

As he licked and sucked, he inserted a finger inside her and began moving it in and out, then added another one. She felt the heat rising within her, growing hotter, until it exploded through her body, and she cried out loudly, clutching at his soft hair.

Soon Dante was by her side once again, looking at her tenderly. “I love you, Lili.”

“I love you too, Dante.” She took him into her arms, and they lay in bed and cuddled before getting up to start their day, and the first item on their to-do list was to set up some ground rules for the household.

The help was absolutely forbidden to enter the room without explicit authorization from that morning on.

*_*_*_*_*

Piofiore Masterlist

#piofiore #dante falzone

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quixotic-writer · 4 years

Text

Cool Down Date

Request: Anon

Summary: Sal and Q decide to go on a little date to their local ice skating rink

——————————————————————

This date was Sal’s idea. It was summer, it was hot, and they wanted to cool down a bit. When Q had suggested they find fun and cute ways of cooling off, he had imagined going to the beach, maybe to a waterpark. Hell, he would have been fine going on a sweet simple ice cream date. But, somehow, Sal had talked him into going ice skating at a rink despite Q not being able to ice skate whatsoever. He was too embarrassed to admit that fact so he begrudgingly sat in the passenger seat as Sal drove them along the road with a smile on his face.

When they got there, beyond the doors they were met with a blast of cold air that made them forget that it was even summer at all. Sal took in a deep breath as the frosted air filled his lungs,

“I can’t wait for winter to come around again. The snow, the layers of comfy coats, fireplaces, me and you cuddled up maybe one night.” He winks over to his boyfriend as they walk over to the counter to rent a pair of ice skates. They sat down at a bench and Sal was quick to tightly lace up his skates. He stood up to check that he had done it correctly and wobbled a bit as he carefully regained his balance with both of his arms out like wings to steady himself. Q, on the other hand, couldn’t quite evenly lace up his skates. Some parts felt too loose while others felt too tight, when he had ‘finished’ lacing them up, he stood up and almost fell as his ankle bent slightly due to the new center of gravity. He quickly sat back down on the bench and felt sweat forming on his forehead.

“Need help babe?” Sal looked to a pouty Q and got down quickly to help him out. Like a parent helping his child, he carefully laces up the skates, asks if it felt comfortable and not too tight, and then tucked away the laces and helped him to his feet. This time around, Q didn’t feel as though he was going to fall like a tree being cut down, but he was definitely still shaky on his feet. The two waddle their way over to the ring entrance, the smaller circle where smaller kids with walkers on the ice went in circles trying to perfect their form. Sal placed one skate on the ice, then the other, and took off around the ring for some warm up laps. Q was lagging behind, one foot, then the other, then grasped to the wall for stability. He dare not slide his feet out of fear that they would slip out from under him, his biceps tensed as he literally walked along the ice. “Bri, do you not know how to skate?” Sal appeared before him.

“N-no… Just warming up is all…” He took another step and lost his balance and almost went flying had Sal not flew behind him to grab him before he fell flat on his ass. “Okay, maybe I don’t know how.” Hot shame filled Q and the room didn’t feel so cold anymore, it felt like an inferno. All Sal did was chuckle.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I wouldn’t have taken off like that and left you walking on the ice like a newborn dear.” Q was back up on his feet, but still had a death grip on the wall and refused to peel away from it. As he looked around the rink, Sal was nowhere to be seen. When he turned around again, there he was with one of those metal walkers. Q sighed.

“Is this necessary?”

“Well after that near nasty spill, we gotta start with the basics. Lesson one: You don’t literally walk on the ice, you glide! Come, like this!” Sal pulls Q along and demonstrates as he alternates pushing himself with each skate and slowly moving forward. “Shift your weight between each foot, use the other to push you forward.” Q watches closely at his feet and attempts to mirror the motion. Very slowly he does it and soon Sal eases his grip on the walker his boyfriend was using to see him pushing himself forward by himself and smiles. Q didn’t notice that Sal had let go, his eyes were glued on his feet to ensure that he mastered the form, he kept licking his lips that were continuously chapped from him panting and grunting because of how concentrated he was. Sal thought it was cute how sometimes his tongue would stick out a bit when it got a little tricky for him. “See! Look at you go babe!” His arms were raised in victory and Q looked up, feet still moving, he wore a proud smile on his face.

Q kept doing laps around the small circle as kids stared at him in awe because of the size of him in comparison to them. His posture soon straightened out and his strides became more confident. The grip he had on the walker had eased and he was merely pushing it around. Soon, he decided to ditch it all together, sliding it off to the side for a kid to use. His hands were steady and out at his side to keep his balance, Sal was in front of him again and placed his hands into Q’s for reassurance. Just like before, it was slow and steady, his eyes glued to his feet, and balance being reestablished.

“Sally, i’m doing it!” Another milestone reached as Q began moving faster and faster on the ice and soon didn’t need Sal to hold his hands anymore. He beamed with pride as he erratically moved along the ice. It wasn’t perfect like Sal’s smooth skating, but it was enough to get him moving.

“You know what that means then.” Sal looks over to the bigger circle where all the more experienced skaters were and Q’s eyes follow him there. He swallows hard but nods his head, he was up for the challenge.

“Okay little turds, out of the way.” Q mumbled as he pushed his way through the crowd of kids while Sal was behind him apologizing to each one that Q would accidentally shove into. As they stepped into the large circle, the lights of the rink dimmed down and a colorful array of lights painted the platinum white ice and illuminated the place into a freezing disco haven. Q marvelled at the sight of it all, a sense of child-like wonder glimmered in his eyes and it made Sal’s heart melt. He took Q’s hand in his and without another word, they were off skating in the big rink.

They danced to all the music playing, sang along together, and laughed every time Q almost fell. The rainbow lights that bounced about the room soon dimmed, the disco ball above them was the only thing sparkling above them that lit the room, the music faded in and “1, 2, 3, 4” by the Plain White T’s began playing.

“As always skaters, what would a blackout moment be without something for the couples out there. Grab your lover by the hand and share a trip around the rink with them. And if you ain’t got someone, hold a friend close and show them some love too.” The announcer's voice came over the speakers in a low soft tone. Sal and Q stopped for a moment and watched as everyone around them paired up and smiled at each other as the happy upbeat guitar filled their hearts. They were tucked away in the corner and Sal pulled Q in close, his hands on his shoulders and Q’s on his waist. There they swirled in circles together and hummed along to the music as the rest of the world drifted away and it felt like it was only them in the room.

“Still bitter that I chose this for a cool off date?” Sal asked looking Q in his eyes that smiled whenever his lips curved upwards.

“Can’t we have just one intimate moment without your sass Salvatore?” He lays a kiss on the cold skin of his forehead, Sal could feel the cold air focus in on that spot. Sal took things a step further as he pulled Q’s face in for a deeper loving kiss. Foreheads pressed together, noses grazing each other, and smiles on their faces. “I love you, Sal.” Q says just loud enough for him to hear and in sync with the song. They might have been in freezing temperatures, but their love kept them more than just warm. And, just maybe, Q was thinking about more skating dates in the future.

#brian quinn #sal vulcano #vulquinn #fluff #suki writes

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fogsrollingin · 4 years

Text

Title: in this house, ch 2 Author: fogsrollingin Fandom: Supernatural Story details: Sam & Dean, rated PG-13, 2k words. Summary: getting out of this house. My next entry for @whumptober2020! Prompts filled are no. 14 brand & no. 15 magical healing & no.31 torture A/N: all my amazing readers who let me know they wanted more of this story (when I’d planned it to just be a very intense one-shot, here we gooooo! 😆 Chapter 1 on Tumblr || Full story available on AO3 || Fanfiction.net too || INCREDIBLE art inspired by this fic: Hurt Sam by @midnightsilver on tumblr, uncensored version on pillowfort and now also on AO3!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ in this house ch2 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Furniture crashed overhead, Dean's team of hunters fighting, feet pounding over the floorboards, the sounds of screaming, hissing vampires. Sometimes their sounds would stop abruptly, then a heavy thunk to indicate their decapitated melons had just hit the floor and it was like music to Dean's ears. Macabre as it may be, it was a dream come true right now as he huddled in this cage with his brother shaking and clinging to him out of his mind with fear.

Sam had cleared up enough to say his name though. That was a start. Dean thought about their next moves. Or tried to. He blinked his eyes, shook his head, summoning the wherewithal to get brain's gears back online.

Damn it, you planned for this! Dean scolded himself. The harder he focused, the stronger this rushing feeling bubbled out overwhelming him, filling his senses up with cotton and getting him too jittery to think straight.

"Fuck," Dean muttered, hauling his shivering, traumatized little brother up against him closer. Sam went with it. Dean ducked his own head into his brother's disgusting hair. They were wasting time. He kept telling himself that to spur himself into action but... there were so many things, so many ways Dean could help Sam and as he ran down the mental list of them he just didn't know which came first.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that hugging each other in the cage like they weren't free, like Dean had simply joined his brother enslaved inside. It felt like a purgatory Dean could live with. After everything they'd been through, to just be together even in that cage was enough.

"Hey, okay guys," a low voice smoothed over them. Sam didn't react but Dean recognized Mallory's voice. She was a medic turned hunter that'd arrived last week with her friend, Gerald. She hovered over the cage's door.

She moved and Dean couldn't see, her dark brown skin and black outfit perfect camouflage. "Don't!" Dean begged. Sam scuttled closer. Dean didn't know what he was begging for. Don't come into the cage? Don't shatter this moment? Don't you touch him?

Thundering steps of so many people erupted behind her. Sam yelped and Dean grunted, clutching Sam back.

"Stop!" Mallory ordered and the feet coming down the stairs did as they were told. Dean heard some jubilance in their tones, wanting to clear the basement of these blood suckers and high five Dean. Instead Mallory's voice rang out crystal clear. "Go clear the rest of the house. Burn the bodies out back. I want Gerald down here though. Gerald?"

"Yeah, here," a man replied softly, an easy gait stepping down the stairs past the others who'd started making their way back up. He appeared next to Mallory and crouched down with her to talk. His skin was a little lighter than hers' so Dean could make him out in the dark better. He was biting his nails looking at them, brows furrowed with worry.

"I'd like you to stay down here. Make sure no one's in the other cages."

"You got it," he murmured softly. He got up slowly in deference, it seemed, and moved away.

"All right. Dean?" Mallory asked.

"Y-yeah," Dean gruffed from the human ball they'd made, the two of them curled around each other so tight now. Dean didn't want it to end but somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminding himself that Mallory and Gerald were the best, his favorites. He couldn't remember exactly why. His brain was fried right now but he responded to her voice.

Something slid into the cage out of the corner of his eye, Mallory pushing his backpack inside within reach of him. The first aid kit was in there, a water bottle, some of Sam's clothes, hot chemical packs, an emergency blanket. Dean had packed everything he could think of.

"Do you want me to come in?" Mallory asked evenly.

Dean stared at the backpack and shook his head.

"Can I walk you through this?"

Dean's face screwed up and he let out a sob. He nodded though.

"Okay Dean, it's okay. You're doing great. You've got your brother. He's safe now. You're gonna take care of him. You two will be home eating takeout at a shitty motel in no time," she lied with so much charm and Dean was nodding in agreement, engaged, growing more and more aware.

"Now what you gotta do first is lay Sam down and examine him, Dean. You gotta know how hurt he is. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, come on Dean, you gotta see."

Dean nodded to Mallory, his face still buried in Sam's hair. "Okay, okay Sammy, you ready?"

Sam shuddered but let Dean gently pry him free until he was sitting. Dean wasn't going to make him lie down.

"Sam, where does it hurt?" Dean asked stiffly. Mallory waited behind him patiently and he felt better she wasn't pressuring him. Dean might have had a minor freakout just now but he still had the last say on how to handle his brother.

Sam shivered and shook. "It doesn't."

"What?"

"Hungry."

Dean heard Mallory scrambling at the backpack, the sound of little pretzel bags crinkling before one landed next to Sam's feet. Sam grabbed it and tore into it.

A rolling sound and Dean turned to see Mallory had pushed the water bottle to tumble its way to them. Dean grabbed it and put it within Sam's reach.

"Sam... can I take a look at you?" Dean asked hesitantly as Sam wolfed down the last of the pretzels. Mallory threw another one and without acknowledging her Sam pounced on the second helping.

"They'd heal me. After the torture. Magic." He spoke quietly between crumbly breaths. "Except here." He twisted and lifted his leg to show his right thigh.

Dean tilted his head to see, Mallory squinted and leaned forward.

Dean swore. Mallory gasped.

"Sammy what the fuck is that?"

"It's a brand," Sam replied wetly.

Gerald came back just then, his steps silent and graceful. "Nobody."

Mallory took Gerald's hand and squeezed. "Could you tell the others to go? These two-"

"I understand. I'll tell 'em," Gerald whispered. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything." He squeezed her hand back and made his way.

Dean turned back to his brother. "Sammy, can I-?" he asked as he moved in to look at the wound again. Sam nodded and leaned against the cage wall for balance as Dean lifted his right knee up to see again. If Sam was embarrassed by Dean's proximity to his twig and berries he didn't show it. He'd slowed his snacking, interspersing pretzel bites with gulps from the water bottle. He seemed dazed, but it was a definite level up from what he'd been before.

Dean ducked and examined Sammy's leg. He clenched his jaw so as not to disturb whatever shell-shocked peace Sam was in right now but damned if he didn't want to curse up a storm right now.

All Sam's leg hair had been burned off, in its place deep carvings in a design Dean couldn't even begin to make out with so much scabbing and swollen skin marring it. All the cuts had needed stitches but instead they'd been reopened repeatedly. It was red, moist with pus, clearly infected.

Dean set Sam's leg down and felt his forehead. He glanced back at Mallory. "He needs antibiotics."

"He need a hospital?"

Dean got himself up into a kneel, put his hands on his knees and stared at his voracious brother chowing down on a fourth packet (if he'd kept count correctly) of pretzels. "No. No I can take him, I think."

Mallory scooted in and Dean let her. She was holding a huge white square of gauze the size of his hand. There were ugly brown lines glazed on it where she'd applied the antiseptic. Dean looked at her for a second. She looked up and understood what he needed.

"We're gonna bandage the injury so we can get him dressed. And then we're gonna get him out of this cage and then we're gonna move him out of this house."

Dean's eyes watered and he nodded. She gave him the medical tape.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean muttered to himself, getting into position. "Sammy, you ready?"

"Yeah."

Dean pressed the bandage gently along Sam's flayed flesh and Sam only whimpered once, breathed heavily through the rest of it as Dean taped. Dean knew it meant his pain tolerance had heightened. The heavy weight of that knowledge settled sick in his stomach. It would never go away. "So good, good job Sammy, so brave, you got this," Dean babbled, not paying attention to what he was even saying anymore.

The instant he was done, Mallory handed him Sam's black cotton sweatpants he'd brought and he helped Sam into them. Next was a plain white t-shirt. Sam moaned and reached for Dean a couple times. He'd fall against his chest for a break to catch his breath and Dean would hold him through it, rub his back, tell him he smelled awful.

They scooted Sam out of the cage, taking care not to jostle him. Dean felt lighter as they crossed the threshold, the repulsive air of a torture dungeon still somehow fresher now they were out of that godforsaken cage.

"Gonna have this thing melted down," Dean gruffed.

He got under Sam's arm, Mallory under the other, and together they counted to ten to lift Sam up so he could walk.

Sam groaned and weakly placed his feet flat on the floor, a valiant attempt to take some of his weight but they were lifting him too fast.

Mallory and Dean were softly congratulating him as he rose almost to full height. He gave them a strained smile before closing his eyes and passing out.

Dean's alarmed shouts for Sam to wake up again mingled with Mallory's yells for Gerald as they both struggled to give Sam a controlled fall.

Gerald pounded down the stairs and stopped at the tableau before him. Mallory out of breath and stressed as she refastened her pony tail with hands trembling with adrenaline. Dean hovered over his brother solicitously. The kid was clothed now which was a plus for Gerald, yet unconscious, a new minus.

"We need some muscle, sugar," Mallory explained. "Sam passed out."

Gerald came around and crouched down on Sam's other side across from Dean. "Well now I'm really happy you put clothes on the kid," he joked good-naturedly. Dean huffed. Gerald looked down. "So this is your little brother, huh?"

"Yep." Dean's chin quivered. He brushed Sam's hair off his face.

Gerald patted his back a few times. "C'mon, get it together."

Dean nodded, rubbed his face. "Right, okay, uh. We gotta do a two-person carry because he's injured. Back of his right thigh is fucked up."

"Got it."

Gerald got Sam's broad shoulders, Dean his brother's long legs, and together they tromped up the stairs.

"Should burn the whole house down," Gerald muttered as they hit the landing. Mallory followed up. She opened the emergency blanket and let it fall over Sam as Dean and Gerald carried him through the house. There were no bodies, no heads, only the blood stains in the grooved, pockmarked floorboards stood testament to the righteous slaughter carried out less than an hour ago.

"I couldn't agree more," Dean said as he watched Gerald fold into the backseat of the Impala, carrying Sam in with him. The emergency blanket crinkled and fell to the ground. As soon as Sam's butt cleared the seat, Dean set his feet down. He took Sam's shoulders and let Gerald get out through the other side.

"Wait," Sam whispered. Dean froze and looked down.

"Sam? Sammy? You with us?"

Sam's eyes rolled under his lids. He swallowed and nodded. "Wait."

"For what?"

"To burn it. I wanna..." Sam wheezed and coughed. "be there. For it."

A rush of relief slipped down Dean's spine and spread out, warming him.

"Damn straight, little brother. You'll throw the first match."

Sam chuckled thickly. "Yeah." His head fell onto Dean's shoulder, passed out again. Dean kept his arm around Sam even when he noticed the kid was drooling on him.

They were gonna be okay.

Fin

A/N: Marking this as complete again but hey who knows I might tack on another chapter - that branding is a mystery that might be worth exploring 👀😆

Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/kudos/reblog/vote/give to charity on my behalf (hahah) if you can spare the time

Happy Ides of October! 🎃🍂 xoxo ~ Alex.

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lunatheblackwolf · 4 years

Text

Gauntlets & Greaves Week 2020: Day 1 - Sparring

I'm not the greatest at writing fight scenes, or writing short oneshots, so I apologize in advance if this seems kinda sloppy 😅

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

Bam! Bam bam! Whoosh! Thud!

Yang growled with frustration after she was sent flying across the dirt and her back collided with a tree trunk. She didn't have very long to shake off her dizzy spell because she heard the rapid pounding of boots on the ground as her opponent charged at her again. She managed to dodge by rolling off to the side, but she stumbled upon getting back on her feet. Before the blonde could recover her balance, her guard was broken and she heard another whoosh before a steel-toed boot connected with her jaw and sent her back onto the ground. This time she had no time to get up when she felt a gun barrel press to her temple.

"Dead," stated a male voice before the gun was removed from her head a moment later. "You're still rooting yourself. Remember what I said about sta-"

"Staying on the balls of my feet and in constant motion, I know," Yang huffed while breathing heavily, the midday sun beating down on her sweaty face.

"Wobbling around like your uncle after three bottles of whiskey tells me otherwise."

"Well I wouldn't have that problem if I could see!" She grumbled as she tore the blindfold off her head, momentarily regretting it as she was blinded by the return of sunlight. Blinking the black spots out of her vision, her eyes soon focused on the form of her boyfriend standing over her.

"I told you: you can't always trust your eyes," Mercury remarked as he plopped down on the ground beside her, wiping his wrist across his eyes to get rid of sweat. "Definitely can't rely on them if you get caught in the dark. Your ears and feet are good backups, but you're screwed if you can't learn to listen to your instincts."

"They're currently telling me to rub your face into those rocks over there."

He grinned cockily. "My point exactly; you're not listening close enough, so now you're dead for the - what was it? 11th? 12th?"

"15th time..." Yang growled with annoyance as she rolled onto her stomach and laid her forehead on her forearms, ignoring the feeling of dirt and dust sticking to her sweaty face with every exhale. She hissed a bit when the hot metal of her right arm made contact with her cheek. "How are you still standing? I thought you were the one sensitive to high heat, not me. It's like 100° out here!"

"Dry heat is an issue, I can handle humidity. This is pretty mild compared to some summers back in Mistral," He informed while shaking out his dampened hair and brushing his bangs out of his eye. "Alright, break time's over. One more round and we can call it for now."

"Fine, but you're buying lunch."

"If I'm buying, I pick what movie we watch," The former assassin said while helping her to her feet. "If I have to sit through another cheesy romantic comedy, I'm gonna claw my own eyes out."

"We watch them so we can make fun of them for being cheesy, Twinkle Toes," She reminded as she reluctantly tied the blindfold back over her eyes.

"Still requires watching it, Blondie. Guard up."

The blonde brawler sighed and raised her fists, reminding herself to keep on the balls of her feet as she widened her stance. Around the same time she felt the back of his hand touch hers as he got into his own stance, Yang realized she could peek through the blindfold since the cloth was no longer snug against the bridge of her nose, giving her a tiny peep hole. She managed to not grin, knowing doing so would give away to her cheating. Feeling more confident, her violet eyes watched his gray ones patiently to see what he would do.

She almost forgot how fast he moved when his front fist came towards her face, which she barely managed to dodge by moving her head. She quickly grabbed his wrist and upper forearm and twisted around, using her hip to try knocking him off balance while pulling him forward and over her back. Mid-flip, Mercury felt her falter a bit when she pulled him straight over her head - not the proper execution for that move - and used the opportunity to get his feet under him in time to break his fall. Using her own momentum against her, he pulled her down to spring himself back up. He blocked two kicks from her after she hit the ground again, the force of the blows still pushing him back far enough for her to leap back onto her feet.

For about a minute, they seemed to be evenly matched as punch after punch and kick after kick were exchanged. Yang managed to gain the upper hand when she blocked an axe kick, and threw the leg back upwards at the same time she swept the other one from under him. Once his back collided with the ground, she held him down by laying half her body on top of him and pinning his arms beside his head.

A large cheeky grin then crossed her lips. "Bet you didn't SEE that one coming! Cuz I didn't!"

Mercury groaned and rolled his eyes at the pun. "You're not funny, you dumb blonde."

"Au contraire! I'm hilarious, and you're a sore loser," She sassed back, booping him on the nose at the last part.

He rolled his eyes again and sighed. "You get an E for effort..." His hand suddenly slipped from her hold and his finger hooked into her little peep hole before the whole blindfold was ripped off. "But an F for not following directions."

Yang puffed her cheeks a bit upon being caught in her lie. "I still won! And just in time for lunch, too."

"If you wanna joke around, fine, but remember it's you to blame if you get your ass handed to you, not me."

"I got it, Mr. Grumpy Boots," She waved off, then pecked his lips. He wasn't amused by the nickname. "C'mon, it's too hot to be serious, or out here. Let's get some food then lounge on the couch like a couple of lazy slugs in the cold air."

-----------------------

"Usual?" Mercury asked some time later after they had wrapped up their training session and returned inside to get cleaned up and cool off, as well as order food.

"Yep!" Yang answered on the opposite end of the couch as she tied her curly mane of gold into a ponytail.

"I still can't believe this place's regular-sized bowl of noodles is basically a whole pot of them." Once their order was sent, he glanced up at the TV and raised a brow at what was on the screen. "A serial killer documentary? Seriously?"

"Just in case I need to get rid of a body," His girlfriend replied with a cheeky wink. "Plus, I figured you could point out some flaws in these guys' plans and tell me how they could've done better and gotten away with it."

"Well, Step One is so simple that even a child could do it: get rid of any witnesses so no one can snitch." Following that statement, a couch pillow was suddenly pressed to her face and an arm hooked around her waist, pulling her to his end of the couch.

"I promise I won't spill your secrets," Yang laughed after easily knocking the pillow away.

"Step Two is to never trust anyone," Mercury countered, their banter quickly escalating into a playful wrestling match to see who could restrain the other, both of them laughing.

Guess sparring is not limited to just one ring!

#rwby gauntlets and greaves #rwby yang #rwby mercury #sparring #G&Gweek

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love-takes-work · 5 years

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Gem Harvest Meal

My friends and I had a Gem Harvest together the day before the Steven Universe movie came out! I thought I’d share my recipes with you all in case you’d ever like to eat like a Gem with your found family. Recipes for corn, chicken, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, homemade whole wheat rolls, hard boiled eggs, and of course the entirely-from-scratch Gem Harvest Cake are all available below the cut!

See more SU food tutorials!

CORN

Ears of corn can be cooked many ways! You can shuck the corn and boil it, or wrap it in aluminum foil and roast it in the husk, but what we did was set the oven to 350ºF / 175º C, put the corn right onto the oven's racks, and roast it for around half an hour. Then peel and eat!

CHICKEN

Obviously a turkey also works, but we made chicken since we only had three people (and one who doesn't eat meat!). This is my friend's recipe for chicken.

Ingredients:

Whole chicken

1 small onion

Several sticks of celery

Several small carrots

Salt / pepper / garlic powder / spices to taste

Oil or butter

First, you preheat the oven to 375° F / 190º C. Prepare the aromatics first: Peel and quarter one small onion, and cut up the celery.

Take the chicken out of its bag and remove any giblets from the cavity/neck. Pat chicken dry with a paper towel and pull out any stray feathers. Salt the cavity and stuff with onion, celery, and carrots (or any other aromatics). Cap the cavity with foil.

Oil or butter the chicken skin all over and season with salt, pepper, and garlic powder and any other desired spices.

Bake at 375° F / 190º C for 12 to 15 minutes per pound until an instant thermometer reads 165° F / 75º C stuck in the thigh (or if your chicken has a temperature indicator, you can wait until it pops up).

MASHED POTATOES

Make real mashed potatoes! It's worth it!

Ingredients:

Four whole potatoes

1 cup milk

2 tablespoons butter

Salt & pepper

Peel and chop potatoes. Boil a pot full of water that covers over the potatoes, salting the water before turning the heat on high. Put the potatoes in when the boil starts. Wait until the potatoes are soft enough to mash with a masher (about 15 minutes), then drain and mash in the hot pot.

Melt the butter into a cup of milk, then add to the potatoes and mash until creamy.

Add salt and pepper to taste.

GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE

This classic casserole is a fantastic vegetable complement to a heavy meal!

Ingredients:

1 can (10 1/2 oz) Cream of Mushroom soup

3/4 cup milk

1/4 tsp black pepper

4 cups cooked cut green beans (we used 2 cans)

1 1/3 cups crispy fried onions

First, get a baking dish that can hold 1 and 1/2 quarts. Mix the soup, milk, and pepper in the dish.

Next, drain the beans, then stir them in with 2/3 cup of the crispy fried onions.

Bake at 350º F / 175º C for 30 minutes. Take out, stir, and top with remaining onions!

WHOLE WHEAT ROLLS

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon active dry yeast

1/4 cup warm water

1/4 cup butter, softened

1/8 cup honey

2 medium eggs

1/2 cup buttermilk or milk (room temperature)

2 1/4 to 2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

3/4 teaspoon salt

First, make sure the water is above 100º F (37º C) but less than 115º F (46º C) and dissolve the yeast in it. While waiting for the yeast to dissolve, mix the butter and honey together and cream--either with a stand mixer using paddle attachments, or manually. Add the eggs and mix that in, and then add the warmed milk with the yeast mix.

Add 2 cups of flour and the salt. Mix until it's combined evenly. If you're using a stand mixer, use the dough hook here for 2 to 3 minutes, and if you're kneading manually, do it for at least 5 minutes. Add more flour a couple tablespoons at a time until the dough is not tacky.

Let the dough rise, covered, for an hour. Then turn onto a floured surface, knead briefly, and let rest a few minutes before dividing into a dozen pieces. Butter square dish and throw the balls of dough in to let them rise (covered) for another hour.

Then bake at 350º F (175º C) for 20 to 25 minutes.

HARD BOILED EGGS

I boiled six eggs like this: Put cold water in a pan until there's enough water to cover the eggs by about an inch. Boil the water. Once it's boiling, add eggs cold from the fridge. The water will briefly stop boiling. Wait for it to start boiling again and wait 30 seconds. Then turn the heat down to LOW and put a cover on the pot. Let the pot simmer for 12 minutes.

Then turn off the heat, remove the eggs from the water, and put them in ice water. Let them chill briefly, then peel.

GEM HARVEST CAKE

Gem Harvest Cake is a three-tier cake covered in buttercream frosting and spouses!

Since there was no peek inside the middle and bottom tiers, I took some artistic license and made the bottom a chocolate cake, the middle a lemon cake, and the top a vanilla cake (to match the yellow cake we see in the cartoon).

The Gem Harvest Cake has its own separate recipe page for in-depth directions and recipes, but here is an abbreviated version:

Bottom tier: A ten-inch chocolate cake with two layers.

Middle tier: An eight-inch lemon cake with three layers.

Top tier: A six-inch vanilla cake with three layers.

Make each cake according to an appropriate recipe. Cakes can be frozen if they will be made on different days and will be made a while in advance of serving.

When all three tiers are made and defrosted if previously frozen, first you need to level them so they are flat.

Then you make buttercream frosting. You'll need a white batch and a pale pink batch.

Use the white for a crumb coat; frost between the layers of each tier, stack them neatly on round cake boards, and apply a crumb coat using a cake turntable and a bench scraper.

Refrigerate the cakes for a bit before applying the finishing frosting. Frost the tiers with a layer of thicker white frosting on top, followed by pale pink frosting around the sides, smoothed with the bench scraper.

Then use a piping bag and various decorative tips to apply scalloped frosting and frosting shells to your liking.

Once all three tiers are frosted, measure the placement of cake dowels and balance the tiers.

Finally, apply spouses!

These spouses are made from a lollipop mold using white chocolate. You can use plastic ones if you can find them, or make your own.

Enjoy the Gem Harvest with your nearest and dearest!

See more SU food tutorials!

#steven universe #food #meat #gem harvest #steven universe recipes #myblog

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botherkupo · 5 years

Text

Fictober, Day 12

Pairing: Ladynoir

Day 12: "What if I don't see it?"

The sky was dark and rumbling. Vivid green eyes, luminous like a cat's, winked at her from the shadows of the Eiffel Tower. Her heart thumped faster.

A damning beep came from her earrings.

"Now that's not a good sound," Chat Noir taunted as he stepped into the light. He'd split his staff and held the twin batons in a deceptively loose grasp.

She balled her hands into fists. "Get back!"

"Or you'll what?" His smile gleamed, sharp like his claws. "This is it, Ladybug. You've lost your champions, your yoyo is useless, and judging by that beep coming from your earrings, I'd say you only have a few minutes left before you detransform. It would be in your best interest to surrender to me now. You must see that."

She wiped the blood from her split lip. "What if I don't see it?"

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. There never was. "Then I'd say you're deluded."

He lunged in a streak of black, twin batons coming for her. The metal danced before her eyes in hypnotising silver. Then her hands snapped out and grabbed each end of the weapons. The tips stopped inches from her face. Her arms trembled, boots sliding against the rain-slickened metal as she strained to hold him off. His green eyes burned into hers.

It's over, his stare seemed to say. Just give up.

She gritted her teeth and pushed back, using every ounce of strength she had. He grunted as he was forced to hold his ground, but neither could get the upper-hand. They had always been evenly matched.

"You can't hold me off forever," he hissed. "Your time is running out."

As if to corroborate his words, her earrings gave another beep. Only one spot left.

Panic screamed in her mind, clawed at her chest. Still, she'd been fighting as Ladybug too many years to give up now. She couldn't let Hawkmoth get her miraculous. Paris was counting her.

She grinned and relaxed her hold, but instead of letting the batons bash into her, she flowed with the motion—controlled it so she could slide down and kick his legs hard to knock him off balance. His body toppled ungracefully. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she scrabbled onto him, desperate, half-snarling through her teeth. She wrenched the batons from his grasp with clawing, tugging fingers and sent both flying. Then she went for his ring.

"Cataclysm!"

Her heart lodged in her throat, but somehow she managed to clamp her hands down on his wrists. Thunder growled. The rain got heavier even as the destructive force of his power swirled above his pinned hand like disintegrating, black stars. His glare gleamed at her in vibrant green.

"Why?" she whispered.

His brow creased. "What?"

She didn't have much time left before her detransformation. Mere seconds at best. Maybe that was why hot prickles stung her eyes. Maybe that was why the words spilled out of her.

"Why are you doing this? Why did you have to side with him? My kwami told me it wasn't meant to be this way. She said we were meant to be a team." Tears rolled down her mask. "She said you were meant to help me."

Something flickered in his eyes.

The last beep sounded. Her suit and mask vanished in sparks of pink. Now she was just a bruised woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her head bowed in defeat. There was no strength left in her hands—not the kind that could keep Chat Noir pinned down. But he didn't move. He didn't even try to escape her grasp. Nor did he glance at Tikki, who had fluttered weakly onto the ground beside them.

"I-it can't be," he said shakily. "Marinette?"

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name on his lips. He had gone chalk-white and his eyes were wide.

Wide and horrified.

Suddenly, he bolted like a skittish cat—breaking free of her, slamming his destructive power against one of the metal pillars to get rid of it, and then snatched up his batons and disappeared into the night.

It all happened so fast.

It was like he had never been there at all except for the crumbled pillar.

Marinette let out a breath. "Tikki, what the hell just happened?"

"Judging from the way Chat Noir reacted, I'd say he knows you."

Her chest seized up, squeezing her lungs. "But he ran. Why would he run just because he knows who I am? He's been helping Hawkmoth terrorise Paris for years. He's been fighting me for years. My miraculous was right there for him to take. Why would he—"

"Marinette."

It was the sadness in Tikki's voice that did it. Sadness, because of course Tikki didn't need to explain why Chat Noir had run upon realising she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chat Noir really did know her, and it seemed he cared about her as well.

And that meant she knew him.

Marinette's throat burned. She swallowed against the constricting lump and hugged her arms around herself. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think. She probably would have stayed there for hours had Tikki not nudged her into motion.

"Come on," Tikki said gently. "Let's go home. Nothing will be solved from staying out here."

"You're right …"

Chat Noir had gone after all.

And now Marinette had to live with the fact that one of her most dangerous enemies was probably also one of her closest friends.

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #fictober 2019 #ladynoir fanfic #day 12 #oh my did someone say enemies au #this one be angst

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