#fuck 'good rep' manga get your eyes checked

[prettyboy-asmo]

Obey me! boys with trans masc MC

 Some headcanons about the brothers + Solomon and Diavolo with Trans Masc MC. it’s pretty self-indulgent. Obviously not everyone shares the same experiences with their identity.  I took from my own experiences and feelings about things to write these.

TW: Mentions of transphobia (not detailed and not from any of the main  characters)

Lucifer

It doesn’t actually come up for some time, not until you realize that you two are definitely getting closer to being intimate. 

One night things start to get steamy and when you realize you have to force yourself to not run away. You’re still up and halfway across the room faster than Lucifer thought a human could move. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and you have to make yourself look Lucifer in the eyes. 

He’s quick to apologize, thinking he made you uncomfortable- he’s honestly worried he’d hurt you or crossed your boundaries. You assure him that it’s nothing like that. You just need to explain something before things go further. 

If you are nervous about telling him, he’ll wait patiently for you to say what you need to say. Reassures you that it changes nothing about how he feels about you. He only cares that you’re happy and comfortable. 

“I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me. I know humans can hold some troubling views on the subject.” He’s never really understood a lot of the human hang ups on things like this, but he knows it’s a big deal for some to share the knowledge with others, it takes trust.

What he doesn’t say is how happy he is that you trust him that much (how proud he is,) 

Will ask if there’s anything specific you need him to do/not do or anything that you might not have that you want or need. (ie: new binder if you haven’t had top surgery, do you want top surgery? He can make it happen.)

If you’re having a particularly bad time with dysphoria, he’ll straight up ask if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’ll also be sure to call you by your name, or specifically masculine terms 

Someone misgenders you on purpose? He doesn’t hesitate to set them straight. No one’s foolish enough to do it again. 

Mammon:

He finds out on accident. You’re changing when he barges in your room, saying something about being late for breakfast in his usual loud manner. 

He freezes when he finally looks at you, Sees your binder or your scars but honestly it doesn’t really register bc holy shit his human is half dressed and standing in front of him and-poor boy is blushing so hard and is silent because he’s certain he’ll make a fool of himself. 

It hadn’t occurred to you until he went quiet that he didn’t know already. 

You finish getting dressed and his silence is worrying you at this point. You quietly ask him if he’d like for you to stop hanging around him

That manages to snap him out of his daze and he looks utterly confused. “Why would ya think that?” You try to explain that you’ve had people that have stopped speaking to you because you’re trans, or have even tried to tell you it’s wrong. 

“They obviously don’t know anything,” He says, “You’re stuck with the Great Mammon, ya hear? I’m your first guy and you’re my man!” It’s not the first time he’s referred to you as his, but it’s the first time he’s used man instead of human. After that though, he starts doing it more and each time it makes you smile. 

“That’s right, That’s my man!” “What took ya so long, man?” 

If you’re having bad dysphoria he’s very vocal about calling you his man, reassuring you, and asking what you want in that moment. Stay in and just lay around? Sure. find a distraction? He can think of plenty.

He offers you some of his shirts and jackets. “They suit ya,” he insists, even if they’re big on you, “Gotta make sure my man is staying stylish!”  (He won’t admit how happy it makes him to see you wearing his clothes, but you can tell anyways.)

Someone misgenders you to upset you? “What’d you just say to my man?” He’s angry and he’s not about to be quiet about it. 

Leviathan:

You mention it off-handedly while discussing your favorite anime and manga. 

You’d started talking about one that actually had pretty decent Trans rep, lamenting that it wasn’t more popular because of how much it meant to see someone like you-

Levi catches it immediately, but he doesn’t say anything about- It doesn’t change anything he feels anyway. 

He does, however, take time to look for movies, tv shows, games, or anything you might both enjoy that has good Representation. 

When you realize what he’s doing you can’t help but hug him tightly  and kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush.”I’m glad you’re happy.” 

Bad Dysphoria? He’ll drag you to his room to binge anime, play games, and watch movies. He knows the distraction helps.

You’re his Henry, and he’s gonna go the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable, however he can. 

If you use a binder and find you need a new one, he’s on top of it- He’ll offer to make one for you so he knows it’ll be the right size and it will be good quality. 

Someone misgenders you after being corrected? He checks on you first and asks if you want him to do something about it. If he finds out they did it Maliciously? He’s going to do something about that- reminding everyone in the process that he’s the third eldest (and third most powerful) for a reason. 

Satan:

It comes up when you start spending more time with him- studying or getting book recommendations to pass your free time, You can tell when your interactions shift to something more.

He nods when you tell him, “And your pronouns are He/him, correct?” 

Asks if there’s anything he should avoid doing, anything you don’t like to be called, He wants to know your boundaries then and there so he doesn’t overstep them. 

He spends some time researching. He wants to make sure he understands as much as he can about you, including this- he doesn’t want to ask you directly what your experience in the human realm was, in case it brings up any unpleasant memories. 

You notice the change in his reading list eventually and it makes you feel warm knowing that he’s doing it for you. You tell him if he does have any questions he can ask you. 

He does ask you if you use a binder and if you’re binding safely.

He also asks if Dysphoria is something you struggle with. If you tell him it is, his line of questioning shifts to things he can possibly do to help you deal with it. 

If it’s a really rough day and you admit you don’t want to really do anything, he’ll pick a book to read to you, just so you know he’s there for anything you need, even if it’s just quiet company. 

He also becomes a little more vocal, calls you things like dashing or handsome. 

If someone misgenders you with ill intent? He’s going to deal with it, and it’s not going to be pretty. 

Asmodeus:

He invites you to his room to show you the new outfits he bought. He does it pretty much every time he goes shopping. 

This time the first outfit he walks out includes a skirt. You already know Asmo doesn’t believe in gendered clothing, or adhering to any sort of ‘norm’ but it’s the first time you’ve seen it so obviously in person when it comes to his clothes.

“I wish I could wear something like that,” the words are out your mouth before you register them, and you flush even while Asmo giggles. He offers his closet to you and tells you to try something on. 

Your hesitance must show, because he frowns a little, looking concerned. “I used to,” you admit, “But people kept telling me that I didn’t need to transition if I liked all that stuff anyways.” 

He’s next to you in a second, hand tilting your chin to look at him, “Fuck those people,” he says seriously, “It’s a shame for a man to hide such a delightful body. It’s even worse for him to deny himself things he likes because of ignorant commentary.” 

He ends up making suggestions on what to try on, starting with a simple skirt and shirt combo. 

You stare at the mirror for a long time, turning occasionally to watch the way the skirt flares up slightly when you do. You catch Asmo smiling behind you in the reflection.

“Do you like it?” You catch his eyes in the reflection, nodding, “I missed the feeling. Thank you, Asmo.” 

“Anything for someone as handsome as you,” 

If you’re feeling really dysphoric he’ll try to pamper you- want him to brush your hair? Face masks? A relaxing bath? An entire spa day? New clothes? He wants you to feel good about yourself and he knows self care is the first step. 

He loves to pick out clothes for you to wear, but he always explicitly asks what style you want, because he wants you to feel as good as you look in anything he picks for you. 

If someone misgenders you maliciously or more than once, he’ll have plenty of words with them. 

In fact, as it turns out many of his fans will also have words if they catch wind- Asmo loves posting pics with you on Devilgram and taking you to the Fall, so you’ve also become part of many of his fans' lives too.

Beelzebub:

You feel a little self-conscious surrounded by attractive demons- But Beel is a whole other level. He’s tall and solid muscle, and you're envious of it. 

You know you could never keep up with his workouts, but you ask if you could join him anyways, and if he could give you some pointers on good workouts for specific goals. He agrees right away, more than happy to help. 

It becomes a routine and you look forward to your shared workouts, even if it’s just you both doing your own thing, or Beel giving you pointers on your form or him asking you to record him so he can see how his own form looks. 

You’re so comfortable around Beel, that during one of your afternoon workouts you pull your shirt over your head as you stop to take a break and even out your breathing. 

“It’s not good to wear a binder while exercising for so long.” Beel’s concerned comment takes you off guard for a moment and you flush, unsure of what to say because he sounds so casual about it, and you aren’t really used to it. 

You settle for “Sorry,” and quickly go to tug your shirt back on, but he shakes his head. “You don’t have to. Just rest while I finish up.” 

“You’re doing this for you, right? No matter what, You’re a great guy, so don’t push yourself because other people expect it.”�� You’re surprised when he joins you after he’s done and it’s the first thing he says. You tell him it does help you feel better about yourself and you enjoy spending the time with him, doing something you both enjoy. And the smile he gives you is blinding. 

If you’re having a bad time with Dysphoria he’ll ask what you want to do. Workout? Movie and Snacks? Do you need a distraction or do you want to just...be?

He’s well aware of the toxic masculinity that can be present in places like gyms and such. He’s never tolerated it, but there’s a new edge to him if he hears anyone saying something disrespectful or hateful. 

If someone misgenders you, he makes his displeasure known but he focuses on making sure you aren’t upset. (Not many would dare risk making him angry anyways, as quiet as he is he’s still intimidating when he needs to be.)

Belphegor: 

You don’t actually tell him. with how often you end up napping with him he just knows. He doesn’t even say anything about it- he doesn’t see the need to and neither do you. 

He does say something the one time he catches you falling asleep in a binder. “You can’t sleep in that!” he wakes you up and makes you change- he tells you it’s important to have proper sleepwear, a lecture that might even rival one Lucifer's, as he himself begins to doze off. 

After that he makes a point to check to make sure you aren’t wearing a binder before he cuddles up for a nap or for the night (Not that he admits it to you)

He likes to tease you, but he’s always hyper aware of his words. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally say something that might actually hurt you

He doesn’t tend to use overly gendered language with you in the first place, “You’re my nap buddy,” “You make a really nice pillow,” “I like it when you look flustered like that,”

But if he notices/ you tell him you’re struggling with dysphoria more than usual he’ll make the effort to use specifically masculine terms

He’s not the greatest with being open about his feelings but he’ll reassure you if that’s what you need

He doesn’t like seeing you struggling so he asks the best ways to help you feel better, even if he still teases you he’s doing his best to cheer you up or make you more comfortable.

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s making sure you’re okay. He’ll be even more clingy than usual, glare at anyone he thinks looks at you wrong or he’ll simply drag you back home to laze around and cuddle (He tells you he’s tired and just wants to nap, but he really just wants to keep an eye on you in case it upset you more than you showed.) 

He’ll have a discussion with whoever upset you later, anyways. 

Solomon: 

When you realize he’s way older than he looks you’re concerned that he’s gonna have some very archaic views about things. 

Even as you grow closer to him, the thought nags at the back of your mind and it keeps you stuck at a distance despite his obvious flirting. 

He notices, of course. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can stop if you’d like,” It's a stark contrast to his usual teasing and mystic demeanor, and the serious expression on his face draws some courage from you. 

You manage to tell him without stuttering, and then you flush when you tell him you weren’t sure he’d be okay with that. Saying it out loud makes you feel a little silly- all things considered. 

He hums and tells you he understands, but that he doesn’t care in the sense that if you’re happy and true to yourself that’s what matters most. (It sounds suspiciously like something Asmo would say, but there’s sincerity in his voice and eyes.)

His flirting continues- when he passes you at RAD, when he invites you to study with him, even his messages, simple compliments like “You look rather handsome today,” or teasing “I’m so lucky to sit with the cutest boy in class,” but now that you aren’t worrying about other things, you can finally return his teasing. 

If you’re having a hard time with dysphoria, he’ll ask if he can help. He’ll show up with snacks, movies, books, anything you want to do. He’ll even offer to ask Asmo for the needed supplies for a spa day, if he thinks that might help. 

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s gonna set them straight. He’s the most powerful sorcerer and he’s not going to let someone disrespect you like that

Diavolo: 

When you arrive in the Devildom, you actually laugh. A few of the people (demons!) standing around you look concerned. 

“I mean, plenty of people told me I’d go to hell but I don’t think this is what they meant.” There’s some surprised looks but no one mentions it past that, really. 

But it does come up in one of your regular meetings with Diavolo, what had started out as short meetings to discuss how things were progressing during your stay had suddenly turned into hours of visiting over tea and Barbatos cooking. 

He asks you what you meant when you’d said that. It wasn’t the first ‘personal’ question he asked you, and you didn’t see a reason not to explain. So you tell him all about your run ins with the wannabe preachers and ‘concerned’ Sunday school moms and the like and how you managed to offend them. 

He looks curious and you tell him to feel free to ask you if he has a question. He has a few, mostly about if there’s anything making you uncomfortable he might not be aware of, or if there’s anything you need that you can’t get in the Devildom. 

He’s genuinely concerned about not having thought about things like this when it comes to the exchange students, and asks if you’d help him make sure the program was improved and friendly towards all. 

It warms your heart to see him so passionate and ready to learn in order to make others comfortable, so you agree without hesitation

Your visits with Diavolo grow in number after that though some of them remain just friendly visits, some are focused on the exchange program and some of them are far more intimate. 

If you tell him you’re having a rough time with feeling dysphoric, he’ll Invite you over to visit and make sure you’re alright- and if you don’t feel like going out? He’ll come to you, a box of sweets from Barbatos and determined to find out if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’s all about reassurance, “You’re perfect, and I don’t lie, remember?” 

Someone misgenders you intentionally or is just being transphobic in general? He’s quick to shut that down. He makes it known that he won’t tolerate any sort of hate speech or such behavior, and especially not towards you. No one is going to test Lord Diavolo on that, either.

#swd obey me #obey me #Trans masc MC #trans mc #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #om solomon #om diavolo #Tw mention of transphobia #Obey me trans masc MC #obey me hc #headcanon #kinda self indulgent im just starving for content i can relate to

[mermaidcashton]

i hate to admit it

author: claire (@mermaidcashton) ship: michael clifford/reader prompt/AU: this is a gift for the wonderful @h0tsos who wanted soft, subby Michael in an enemies to lovers capacity (and i snuck some coffee shop!au in there as well, and some weebness because, well, it’s Steff and Michael) wordcount: 4k+ warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, explicit sexual content a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (which was a gift exchange this time around) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘this means war’ by mariana’s trench • ‘my hero academia’ is a manga/anime series. there are references to it and a few of the characters in this but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand what’s going on.

i hate to admit it *** “So, they’re like...superheroes?” 

Luke sipped on his glass of rosé, nodding like he understood whilst making a face that showed he absolutely did not.

“Yeah, dude, pretty much!” Michael nodded along with your co-worker with so much enthusiasm he looked like one of those dogs people put on their dashboards. Except less cute. Wait, no - not cute. Definitely not cute at all. Good save, you. Couldn’t have your own internal monologue thinking you felt anything for the moron you were forced to work with 3 times a week was anything more than an annoyance you had to endure. With a butt that wouldn’t quit. Dammit, self! 

Michael took advantage of Luke showing an interest in his (and yours) favourite anime, and began bombarding him with half baked theories, predictable favourite scenes and shitty character analysis. He nearly knocked his own hat off as he flailed his hands around in an attempt at explaining the dynamics of a battle from the second season. Luke smiled politely. 

You snorted into your drink as you drained the last of it; you were definitely going to need another. If Michael started fanboying over Deku again, you were going to scream.

As you placed the empty bottle onto the wood of the coffee table, you took another glance around the apartment you were in. You’d never been up here before, despite spending a minimum of 20 hours a week in the coffee shop downstairs. But after this evening’s staff meeting tackling such issues as ‘who forgot that milk needs to be kept in the fridge overnight’ (Luke), ‘who is putting too much whipped cream on hot chocolates’ (Michael), and ‘who wrote ‘THIS COFFEE IS HOT, BUT U R HOTTER ❤ ) on a customers caramel macchiato’ (Luke again), Ashton had invited you all upstairs for a ‘employee chill’. You had been surprised a week or so into your employment when you had found out that the manager was also the owner who lived in the apartment above Screamin’ Beans; he was only in his mid twenties, but the more you’d experienced his drive and determination, the more your surprise had dwindled. Ashton really was a great guy, with one big flaw; Michael. They had been best friends for years, hence him moving into the apartment when he came back into town and the job Ashton had given him; which in your humble opinion was the equivalent of setting a monkey loose on the milk frother.   

Michael had sealed his fate with you the same day he’d started work. He arrived 10 minutes late (from upstairs), sleepy eyed and shy smiled. His fluffy blonde hair was spilling out of his beanie, and he kept biting his very pink lip bottom with sharp little teeth. The way he pronounced your name was adorable. You’d burned your hand on the espresso machine. Strike one. Things unravelled quickly after that. He was ‘too shy’ to take orders and work the register so you were stuck there all day talking to goddamn customers about why it wasn’t a good idea to have 3 pumps of every syrup while he hid behind silver machinery and dirtied way more jugs than you deemed necessary. Strike two. And then he’d dropped a latté into that ladies bag - sorry, very expensive bag. Michael had let out a ‘uuuhhh’ sound like a malfunctioning robot without moving for so long that the furious customer had stopped trying to yell at him and focused her rage on you instead. When he had eventually come to whatever passed for his senses, Michael had power walked into the employee bathroom and didn’t return until Calum arrived to join the shift and assured him the woman had left, twenty minute later. You were beyond strikes. You’d been so sure you could talk Ashton into scheduling you together as little as possible. There was no reason to put you down to work nearly every shift together, especially shifts where only two staff were on! Except, apparently there was because he kept fucking doing it. Every time you pressed Ashton on it, he’d say something about how he needed Michael ‘trained by the best’, or ‘matching availabilities’, or he thought their ‘energies combined well; auras are meshing, y’know?’ The one might have been on you for catching him as he was returning from his Vibe Check Yoga class at the studio down the street. 

He’d also emphasised that Michael needed more friends now he was back in the city, and you two had loads in common! You both liked pop punk! You’d rolled your eyes. And Italian food! A ‘tch noise. And anime! Okay, you’d bite. 

The next time you’d gone into work, you’d engaged Michael in a conversation about ‘Tokyo Ghoul’ and recommended ‘Demon Slayer’; things started to pick up. You didn’t fantasise about locking Michael in the walk-in fridge the whole shift. And then…

“You watch ‘My Hero Academia’, right?” “Uh, yeah! I love it.” “Me too! I just ordered a Todoroki tee yesterday. And another Deku one, of course; gotta rep my main man!” “Oh..cool! He’s your favourite?” Of course Michael was a basic bitch. But hey, that’s fine. Deku was fine. He was the main character, after all. And he’s a little less whiny in the recent manga issues, you guess. And the way Michael’s face was right now - open, comfortable, lit up like the 4th of July? That was good, too. His eyes were so green.  “Yeah! Who’s your favourite character?” “Well, I would die for a bunch of ‘em, but I’m a Bakugou girl at heart.” You laid a palm flat on your chest, choosing to ignore the feel of your heart beating faster than it had been five minutes ago beneath it.  Michael wrinkled his nose. “Bakugou? But he’s like...he’s so mean! And angry!”

Oh no. You’d had this conversation before. You locked eyes with Michael, hoping he could see the warning in your eyes. Don’t do it, ho.

“Like, he’d probably make a better villain than hero!”

“You okay, boo?” Calum slid into the space on the couch beside you, holding out a fresh beer for you to take. “You look deep in thought.”

You hummed and accepted the bottle from him, letting go of your train of thought as you caught sight of Luke trying to prove he could get his overly long leg behind his head. Michael and Ashley F. were both actively trying to avoid getting kicked in the face with a sparkly boot, whilst Ashton was just monitoring the situation very intently; you’re not entirely sure when he last blinked. 

You snorted again as Luke’s foot slotted into place in a position you were 85% sure he would not be able to get out of again without assistance, possibly from the emergency services.

“I’m fine. Gotta be one of us capable of thinking here, y’know.” You teased, looking sidelong at Calum. He laughed, rubbing a hand over his freshly shaved hair; he’d always been as easy to get along with as he was obnoxiously handsome. “Hey! You’re lucky I know you’re talking about the human pretzel over there! And I guess, your boyf-” Big brown eyes glittered at you over the hand you’d slapped over his mouth. “-fwendth.” Narrowing your own eyes at your friend, you hissed. “Shut up! I would rather die.” Calum waggled his eyebrows incessantly at you until you relented and dropped your hand. “You knew who I was talking about, though.” Ugh. Smug was not a good look on Calum. “You know, smug is not a good lo-oh fuck, is that the time?” The clock behind Calum’s head showed 8:58; your auction ended at 9:00. You fumbled into your bag for your phone, unlocking it and flicking straight to the app you needed. Phew - still the top bid. “Whatcha doin’?” Calum hooked his chin over your shoulder, blowing your hair out of his face before settling down. 

“Bidded on a really cool, limited edition figure. One of my all time favourite anime characters. The auction is about to end.” You explained,  making sure Calum could hear you other the cacophony of sounds associated with Luke trying to get his other leg behind his head. You both watched the seconds tick down, your username sitting securely by the words ‘Winning Bid’. At two seconds to nine, the page refreshed, then refreshed again; it was over.

‘Winning Bid: BIGRED69’ “Uh...what happened? That’s not you, right?” Calum asked, tilting his head to look at your face, and the rage it contained. BIGRED69. He’d done it again. 

“Uh oh, Y/N - what’s wrong?” Ashton’s voice pulled you out of your internal screaming, and you looked up at him. 

“She’s losing her weeb shit at a heavy eBay loss” Calum answered for you, nodding solemnly as he pulled away from you, giving you room to bonk him with a cushion. “Oh! That’s too bad, but that’s another thing you and Mikey have in common!” Ashton beamed. “Mikey!” Oh no. Oh no, no.

“Yeah?” Michael sloped over, getting his black boot caught on the corner of the leopard print rug as he did. Ashton caught him with an ease you suspected (knew) came from practice. “Why don’t you take Y/N to see your anime dolls? She collects them, too!” Ashton looked so pleased with himself and his suggestion for further ‘bonding’ for you and Michael, and Michael looked like he’d been force fed raw lemon at the phrase ‘anime dolls’, so you let it go on your own behalf. Except now Michael was waiting expectantly for you to follow him to his room and Calum was shoving you off of the couch to get you moving. Fuck your life. You sighed as you got up and started walking. “Fine, let’s go; you can show me your Todoroki body pillow and then we can get on with our lives.” Michael let out a small hiss like an angry kitten, his cheeks colouring a pretty pink. He spared a glance at everyone left in your wake. “I, um, don’t have a body pillow, you guys.” “Suuuuure!” You rolled your eyes, waiting for Michael to enter his bedroom so you could follow. The blonde flicked the light on and moved slightly further in so you could pass him, before shutting the door with a small ‘click’. You decided not to comment on this action, looking around at the posters on the walls and figurines on the shelves instead. You were undecided on whether or not you were going to comment on how cool a lot of Michael’s shit was. A ‘Full Metal Alchemist’ poster over his bed, a full shelf of Funko Pops from movies you loved, framed prints of album artwork by Waterparks and The Maine. Fuck. You were really aware of Michael staring at you with an almost hopeful (?) look on his face as you let your eyes travel around his room before he could show you his ‘anime dolls’. Fuck. Your stomach felt fluttery, and you thought you might have a serious problem here, before you caught sight of a very different problem on Michael’s desk. 

A rare Kirishima Eijirou statue - box signed by the voice actor - you’d been outbid on last month. By BIGRED69. What were the chances a different one was sitting by Michael’s laptop?

“So,” You said, trying to keep your voice neutral and non-murderous. “Where do you get your collectibles from?” “Forbidden Planet, Tokyo Toys, eBay…” Michael rattled off, until you interrupted him. “Where did you get that one? Looks rare - it must have been difficult!” 

“Oh! eBay! It was, but I have an app for it, so…” Michael grinned, looking pleased with himself. An app? “An automatic bidding app? You sniped me?! That’s cheating!” You squeaked; you could not believe this. It was unbelievable.

Michael blinked at you, head empty. “BIGRED69?!” You managed to make the world’s stupidest screen name sound like a terrible accusation. Which it was.

Comprehension dawned on his stupid, beautiful face all at once. “Oh my God! That was you that I’ve been fighting for this stuff? No way! But you didn’t know it was me?”

“Why the hell would I know it was you!” You threw your hands up, and Michael just stared dopily back at you.

“‘Bigred69?! Obviously I assumed you were 12!” Michael let out a squawk of protest, before folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“Clifford!” “What?” Michael’s tone became more insistent. “My last name! Clifford!” You pulled an exaggerated ‘so?!’ face, throwing your hand in the air again. 

Michael had the unmitigated gall to huff, like you were the biggest idiot in the room; like he wasn’t always the biggest idiot in every room, all rooms, ever, in the history of rooms. “Clifford the Big Red Dog!” He said, insistence heavy in the words.

You often swore you could almost hear the old internet dial up tone trilling inside Michael’s brain when customers at the coffee shop asked him such difficult questions as “What dairy alternative milks do you carry?”, “Where is the bathroom?”, and even once - you swear - “What’s your name?”. In Michael’s defence, that last one had been asked in more flirtatious-than-not tone by a brunette who clearly had some kind of vision problem (he’d been dressed more horrendously than usual that day beneath his uniform apron; was that a utility vest?!), but had fluttered her eyelashes at your idiot colleague so hard, for so long, you’d been concerned she’d be leaving without what little vision she’d arrived with. But still. Idiot. Michael, not you. And yet, now it was you with your brain puttering through the information you had with the shrill electronic sound of the 90’s in your head. “Clifford the- are you for fucking real?” This could not be real life.

“It’s totally clever!” Michael asserted, continuing in earnest once you scoffed in reply. “No, listen! Because of Clifford, and also, I had red hair when I made it, and 69 is funny - it is! - and, well-” His face flushed slightly before he puffed his chest out a little, apparently deciding to commit to his defence of his screen name. “I’m big, so it works on like, loads of levels!” 

This could not be happening to you. You were decidedly not standing in the bedroom of a coworker you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also couldn’t stop thinking about kissing as you restocked the counter fridges in the evenings, as he explained that his auction site handle was a combination of a previous dye job, an insinuation about his dick and a massive fucking dog. You could not let Michael have the upper hand here, but you were floundering. So you fell into more familiar, more pathetic territory. 

“If you were called something like ‘deku-loving-loser’, then, sure - I would have known it was you!” “Who’s 12 now?!” “Uh, still you!” Okay, so this wasn’t your finest moment, but you were in it now. And you’d really wanted the Kaminari figure tonight. Michael didn’t even like him that much!

“The point is, you totally sniped me! And you get stuff about basic canon wrong! And your understanding of the characters is one dimensional! And, and...your hat is stupid!” Well, shit. In your defence, Michael’s hat was stupid. You could feel how hot your face was, and Michael’s eyes looking right at it was only making it worse. You couldn’t read his expression at all; he looked like he was searching for something, and you didn’t know what it was, or if he’d find it. You could only assume he had when he took the most decisive steps you’d ever seen him take, reaching you in two huge steps and cupping your face with both hands. Michael kissed in a way he didn’t do anything else; he felt sure and certain as he pressed his lips to yours, moving them with intent. Your brain became overtaken with television static almost immediately as you moved your mouth in time with his, opening your mouth immediately at the questioning press of his tongue. You had enough of yourself left aware to yank his stupid fucking hat off his head as you tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, Michael’s hands sliding down to clutch at your waist as you swayed with the kiss. As Michael pulled back ever so slightly, you took the opportunity to press your teeth into his plush bottom lip, the way you’d thought of doing in afternoon slumps on shift. The whine that came from deep in Michael’s throat made a split second decision for you. 

You pulled back further from Michael, yanking your top off in one go and starting in on the buttons of his black shirt before he fully registered the sight of your bra and the top of your full breasts.  

“Shit, Y/N, are you…” Michael trailed off as you pulled his sleeves down his arms, and the shirt off this body. Your eyes met his as you popped the button on his black jeans and placed your hand on his zipper. “Do you really want me to overthink this, Michael?” A moment’s pause, then he shook his head vigorously, leaning down to pull his boots off once you’d yanked his jeans to his knees. By the time he was left in his (funnily enough, black) boxer briefs, you’d discarded your own jeans and were knelt at the foot of his bed in your soft, lilac underwear. Michael’s breath hitched as his gaze drifted down your body, taking it all in under the artificial light of the room. “Get over here, Clifford…” You teased, trying not to second guess what was happening. Michael broke out of his trance and more or less threw himself onto the bed, settling his head on the pillows and pulling you on top of him for another kiss, and then another, and another. By the time you pulled back to catch your breath, your head was spinning. You braced yourself on your forearms on the bed, taking the time to admire Michael’s body beneath you. 

You’d seen the tattoos on his pale, strong arms before, but they looked different in this context; the contrast between the milky skin and dark ink made your stomach swoop. The blonde hair on his head is also a contradiction; to the dark hair on his chest and the hair trailing down his stomach and disappearing under his waistband. Your mouth felt very dry as you let your gaze continue downward, to the straining bulge beneath the fabric.

You flicked your eyes back to meet Michael’s in question, your fingers suddenly resting on the waistband of his underwear. Michael swallowed thickly, and then nodded once before fixing you with a gaze of pure anticipation. 

No use waiting around. You propped yourself up onto your knees over him and pulled on the fabric decisively, not stopping your motion until his underwear bunched up at his ankles. Holy shit.

You always knew Michael had to have at least one redeeming quality, and you’d finally found it. His cock was huge, hanging heavy and hard between his fuzzy thighs. The head was flushed the darkest pink you could ever remember seeing, and the slit was already shiny with precum. 

If a voice in your head that sounded unfortunately like Calum pressed that Michael had lots of qualities you secretly found redeeming, you ignored it in favour of getting straight to business.

“FUCK! FUCKIN-” 

Apparently, Michael hadn’t been prepared for you to take half of his impressive length into your mouth in one go. You sucked with intent, casting your eyes up to take in the sight of him. His pupils were already starting to blow, and you’d barely done anything. God, that was so sweet.

But then Michael threaded his fingers through your hair, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your scalp. The blonde wasn’t pushing down, but his grip was firm. You could feel the weight of his hand on the top of your head as you held his cock in your mouth, and that shit? Would not stand.

You grab the wrist brushing your hair a second before your other hand finds his idle one, fingers twisted loosely in the sheets. Once you’ve captured both wrists, you guide both to the same point above Michael’s hips, before slamming both into the mattress with purpose. 

If you’d had time to think about it, you’re not sure how you would have expected Michael to react. He didn’t really put out the energy of a man who’d properly fight you for control, either in a domineering way or with more of an air of fragile masculinity. Perhaps a bit of questioning but ultimately compliant as long as he got his dick sucked. But the wanton moan that kicked out of Michael’s chest as you settled into a tight grip on his wrists where you had them pinned on the sheets with intent? That was unexpected. That was interesting.   

Your mouth had remained still on his cock whilst you got his wrists pinned down, more cockwarming him than blowing him. But now you had him so pliant and under your control, it was go time. You pulled back up his cock, wrapping your lips tightly around the head of Michael’s cock, and sucked with gusto. Another groan from above you. You worked your tongue all the way around the head before pulling back enough to flick it into Michael’s sensitive slit. “Oh my fuuu- Y/N, God, I-” Michael was starting to writhe, his hairy legs rubbing into the sheets beneath you. You could feel his wrists moving along with the rest of his body, but you knew you’d made it clear you’d wanted him pinned, and he made no move to get his hand free. Good boy. You sank steadily back down Michael’s length, at least to the six inch mark, before pulling back up, hollowing your cheeks as you went. Back down a little further, then up, back to teasing the head, using your tongue. Michael couldn’t predict what you were going to do next, and it was clearly pushing all of his buttons. You could taste the precum that his cock kept kicking out into your mouth and throat, and see the flush spreading down his neck. By the time you’d pulled, drool beginning to build at the sides of your mouth, Michael was a mess, moaning as much as he was breathing. This could get addictive, you thought to yourself as you let your mouth drop to his balls, and your thumbs press into the pulse points on his wrists. You hummed before you released his left ball from your mouth with a wet pop, and that’s when Michael started begging. “Please, please, Y/N, I wanna-” he panted, cutting himself off over and over. “You’re so beautiful, lemme- God, fuck, it feels so amazing, you’re- I’ve been good, I’ll do anything, please…”

You pretend to consider his pleas as you dragged your tongue over his right ball, dipping into all the creases and leaving them wet behind you. Drawing back up onto your knees, you released one of his wrists so you could push his sweaty blonde bangs back from where it was plastered to his forehead, drinking in the vision before you. His green eyes were nearly completely black, blown out with arousal. The sheen on the skin of his face and body made him glow. His lips were chapped from his teeth tugging on them, and the pink of the matched the flush spread from his cheeks down his chest. And the wrist you were no longer restraining hadn’t moved a centimeter, still pressed firmly to the mattress. Michael was a good boy. And you knew how to treat good boys. With no preamble, you took Michael back into the wet heat of your mouth, relaxing your throat and not stopping until your nose was buried in the soft thatch of trimmed hair on his crotch. You took a moment to situate yourself and enjoy the deep whines bursting out of Michael’s throat into the quiet of his bedroom, before you began to move again, swallowing around his cock. You saw his thighs begin to tremble to the side of you before you heard him speak. “Fuck, fuck, Y/N, please, I’m gonna-” You hummed as hard as you could, pushing Michael’s wrists with that little bit more force into the bed as you did. Michael let out his loudest whine yet - bordering on a sob- as he came, shooting down your throat as he writhed beneath you. 

You swallowed everything he gave you, and when you were sure he was finished, you pulled off slowly, and gently, releasing his wrists as you stood back up on your knees.

Michael looked blissed out, staring dreamily up at you with bright, adoring eyes. He still was yet to move his hands. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smirked down at him. “I believe I heard something about you’d ‘do anything’?” You shot a quick glance at the figurine on his desk, and down at yourself. “I had some ideas…” 

collab masterlist • my masterlist

#5sos writing collab #my writing #mermaidcashton #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #michael 5sos #michael clifford x reader #michael 5 sos x reader #5sos x reader #michael clifford fic #michael 5sos fic

[echodrops]

The Promises I Made (2019 Edition)

For the past thirteen years, I’ve spent every New Year’s Eve compiling a list of fifty promises I intend to keep or fulfill over the next twelve months. The results have been truly amazing, and I have kept some promises I never thought I could. 2019 was… a nightmare that I can barely believe I survived, but I still kept some promises that I honestly did not expect I ever could.

This year, for New Year’s, there will be a new set of promises for to me keep, but here are the old ones, for review!

The Promises I Made (2019 Edition)

1) Be more proactive about tracking and following up with struggling students to decrease the number of students who drop from my class when they realize they cannot pass. Status: Somewhat broken? I tried really hard to be proactive with my students; however, there were some massive issues outside the classroom this year that made it extremely difficult to keep the focus on the students. When administration drags your attention away from the class, there is not a lot you can do…

2) Find a place to put in volunteer hours because uhhhh like this is actually important to my work evaluation and I definitely need something to write in that section… Yikes, this spring is my last chance to do this!! @_@ Status: Kept. I volunteered with the Utah Shakespeare Festival and it was super fun!

3) Install the fire escape window in the Utah house, no matter how much it might cost, because I can’t get a totally unrelated tenant in that basement without said window… Status: Somewhat kept. Okay. This one is a LONG story, but to be fair to me, I worked my ASS off to try and make this happen; just every single thing in the world prevented me from completing this promise, up to and including the city telling me I needed a permit AFTER I had already dug a massive hole in the ground for the window…

4) Buy sod to add grass to the front portion of the lawn so that it no longer looks like garbage. Status: Broken, but I did buy grass seed and put that out there. Unfortunately only some of it sprouted, but there is indeed SOME grass now growing there…

5) Fix the bricks near the windowsills on the Utah house to prevent long-term damage. Status: Broken. After dealing with the stupid window disaster, I had no time for this at all.

6) Get a watering system for my roses at the Utah house because I think my bro is probably killing them and that’s just not cool. Status: Broken, see above.

7) Work on the patio at the Utah house before it just flat out falls down. Status: Somewhat broken. Again, I tried to make progress on this—I called a patio guy to come out and assess how much it would cost to fix the patio—but the price I was quoted was so high that there was nothing I could do at the time.

8) Paint the stairwell so that there’s no chance of anything like lead paint or asbestos being exposed. Status: Broken. The leftover wallpaper glue continues to confound me…

9) Trim the backyard bushes so the neighbors don’t hate us anymore… Status: Broken. We trimmed a few bushes and at least got to the trees out front, but definitely a majority were left uncared for.

10) Move into a new house in Texas where I can get real internet, please for the love of god… Status: Kept. I moved into a very nice house with no scorpions!

11) Save money for my upcoming trip to Japan! 2020 baby! Status: Uhhh, broken. I’m not sure how I thought I’d be able to move into a new house AND save money for an international trip at the same time…

12) Get my wisdom tooth removed because it’s still there and still killing me, yikessss. Status: Broken. AUGH. I’m an idiot.

13) Make an appointment with an eye doctor for like the first time in years. Good job, Yehn, good job. Status: Kept. I got my glasses fixed and even got a new pair of glasses too!

14) Get my prescriptions refilled because I’m dwindling on asthma medicine and like… I could die from this… I should never have been left to care for myself; I’m not mature enough for this responsibility… Status: Kept, surprisingly. But I still need a new doctor because the last one I was going to wouldn’t give me any refills…

15) FINISH THE GIVEAWAY PRIZES I PROMISED LAST YEAR because holy shit I am incompetent and the worst and everyone has permission to hate me for starting things and never finishing them, fuck. Status: Broken. So broken. I am the worst.

16) Go dolphin watching in the Gulf for real this time. Seriously, it’s $10 Yehn, you can do this. Status: Kept, amazingly. It wasn’t as impressed as hoped; however, there was a lovely sunset.

17) Return to the Channel Islands to take better pictures. D; Status: Broken. T_T

18) Level all my classes to 70 in FFXIV before next expansion, please. Status: Somewhat broken. I didn’t have everything to 70 before the expansion, but I kind of feel like I should get credit for this one, because HEY, look at me now:

19) Organize and properly label all the photos on my computer so that I’m no longer desperately combing through folder and folder in blank confusion, looking for a single picture in a sea of thousands… Status: Kept. It took me like eight hours of work, but I actually did this.

20) Update Home and a Half more than once? PLEASE??? The guilt I feel over this currently is crushing. Status: Broken. And the guilt grows…

21) Complete the online American Literature class I am designing on time and with no corrections needed. Status: Kept. I’m counting this as kept even though TECHNICALLY there was one thing I forgot to finish and it came back and bit me in the ass; however, I was approved with no corrections needed.

22) Earn 100% completion for Kingdom Hearts III. So excited! Status: Broken. Um… This just didn’t happen.

23) Update my calendar with important dates—holidays, birthdays, etc.—and be productive about sending cards and well-wishes. Status: Somewhat kept. I wasn’t any better about sending cards really, but I did at least save all the birthdays in my phone so I remember them.

24) Get the garbage disposal in the Texas house fixed ASAP so I don’t have to wash the dishes by hand anymore because I absolutely hate that particular chore. Status: Kept. Then I moved, so it didn’t even matter.

25) Finish all the books my coworkers and friends bought for me recently so I can thank them for their recommendations! Status: Broken. So broken.

26) Actually move into my new place instead of leaving it completely undecorated and lifeless. Status: Remarkably, kept. Nothing has plastic on it, unlike at my old house where the nightstand didn’t get unwrapped even after two years of living there lol.

27) Try hard to get Creative Writing into a different area of the general ed. core so that more people will enroll in it. Status: Kept. I’m counting this because I did my darn best, but we are still waiting on the state to tell us whether or not the class will be accepted.

28) Get caught up on my Ebird reports, even the old, old, old ones I never put in because I was slacking. Status: Kept, actually. Whoo.

29) Throw away/return/sort all the stacks of old mail in the house (OMGGGG they’ve made me look like paper hoarder and I’m nootttt). Status: Broken. There’s just… a lot of papers to go through…

30) Clean up the garage before moving so that I don’t have to fight spiders to move when the time comes. Status: Broken, in that I did not clean up the garage in advance and did, in fact, have to fight spiders when it came time to move.

31) Find a way to boost grading productivity so that each class takes only two days to grade, maximum. Status: Somewhat kept. I was definitely better this year than last year; however, I really think the “two days per class” thing was too optimistic, so for the future semester, I allotted myself three days per class and I think it will work better.

32) Go to a totally new restaurant and try their food. Status: Kept. We went to a Mexican restaurant and I had trompo tacos (al pastor) which is probably not anything special to anyone else but it was my first time so lol.

33) Cancel old credit cards to make sure my credit is good before trying to buy a house (although I just checked my credit score and I’m in the great range already, so this is mostly for posterity’s sake). Status: Broken. But it didn’t affect my loan, so I guess it was okay. And it ended up being good I didn’t cancel my Best Buy card because I was able to get good financing on the new appliances I needed for my house.

34) Get official contracts from my tenants so I can use my rental income in my next loan calculation. Status: Broken, but I ended up not using that as part of the loan calculation anyway >_> so…

35) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate all my retirement accounts into one. (Man, look at all these ADULTING promises.) Status: Broken. Look at me failing all these adulting promises.

36) Really finish decorating my office so it looks super cute and all my students want to visit me. Status: Broken, but I think it sucks that I have to write this because it was really not my fault I couldn’t finish decorating my office. Our offices were all moved and disrupted by building remodels so I spent the entire year basically working out of a couple cardboard boxes.

37) Not sign up for ANY more new responsibilities at work in the spring semester. This is the biggest challenge. D; Status: Kept, by technicality. I was able to avoid signing up for anything new in SPRING… But fall… was a whole other story. XD

38) Migrate all the rest of my books to the new Texas house instead of leaving them in Utah… SOMEHOW. Status: Kept. I’m going to count this as kept. The only books left at the Utah house are my manga—I managed to bring literally every other book, which is very impressive considering I had only my small Camaro with its tiny truck space.

39) Use my twitter account more often to make it worth following. I will try!! Status: Kept… sorta? I mean, since I didn’t use the account AT ALL before, making even one Twitter post kind of counts as using it more, right? >_>

40) Keep my hair cut nicely so I look less like a mess (than I really am). Status: Somewhat broken. Although I think I got my hair cut more often this year than before, I don’t think I looked any less like a mess. XD

41) Successfully find a bridesmaid dress for my friend’s wedding that matches the rest of the wedding party. Status: Actually kept! It was incredible. The wedding I was in was even featured in a magazine because of how pretty it was!

42) Make sure my skin is in good condition for the wedding so I don’t look like a disturbing ghost… Status: Kept? I mean, in the end, looking like a ghost ended up being the whole point since it was a Halloween themed wedding so I kind of won either way.

43) Complete my BNHA manga collection. Since my bro bought me a bunch of the volumes for Christmas, I might as well. Status: Broken… I bought like… one volume. XD

44) See a groove-billed ani. (It’s another type of bird.) Status: Broken. Very illusive bird. T_T

45) Respond to messages, asks, and comments more quickly. I promise I’m not ignoring people… D; Status: Um, broken. I left many people on read this year, sorry.

46) Lose ten pounds so that I feel more fit and comfy. Status: Broken. I didn’t exercise at all this year, uff.

47) Pay down credit card debt by at least 1/3. Yikesssss, I really need to do this quick. Status: Broken. It’s hard to pay down a credit card when you pour all your money into buying a new house…

48) I will finally fucking finish that chapter 73 analysis of Noragami… I swear to god… Status: Broken. Uh yeah. This didn’t happen. V_V

49) Reach 1700 followers on Tumblr. You should follow me—I’m only marginally a waste of time and space! Status: Kept. Over 2500 followers now!

50) I will keep these promises. LOLLLLL. Status: Somewhat kept/somewhat broken. One year I really will keep them all…

 Totals Kept promises: 18 Broken promises: 24 Somewhat kept/broken promises: 8

Well, there are more kept promises than last year at least… It was another really hard year, what with moving in the middle of the year, over-working, dealing with so much drama with the reaccreditation on our campus, and just EVERYTHING all at once this last year… I keep thinking things are going to calm down and then they never do. Please 2020… just let me rest…

My new set of promises will be up on the 1st!

#50 promises #new year's resolutions #IRL stuff #please 2020 #I need a break #it's not the roaring 20s #it's the snoring 20s #PLEASE

[fireflyquill]

AUgust Day 20: Coffee Shop

Okay, I definitely did *not* expect for this to be so long.

Slice of life coffee shop AU where Hanzo works with…computers…and works too hard, and Jesse, Gabe and Sombra run the Blackwatch Cafe downstairs.

This was inspired by a manga I read *ages* ago, and I’ve since forgotten the mangaka and the title. If it looks familiar to you, please let me know so that I can add the reference here!

Warnings for this one: Hanzo has a mild panic attack, and there is a bit of swearing.

This one might be the last one I have time for, as I should really return to editing the McReverse Bang story. I’ve really enjoyed writing these! Thank you so much for reading them.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 11 | Day 13 | Day 15 | Prompt Post

It was done.

It had been another all-nighter in the worst sense, but in the end, Hanzo had triumphed over an almost impenetrable project. It was call for a celebration (however brief, however small) before crashing for the day in a mid-afternoon nap.

He logged off his computer, giving it the well-deserved rest that it needed. He searched his closet for his favourite project-finish t-shirt and his favourite pair of jeans, and managed to remember to tie his hair back before he left. He ran his hand over the side of his head, and noted that his undercut needed to be cleaned-up.

The city was always a bit of a haze to him on such days, which was just as Hanzo liked it—it was suffocating at the best of times, a constant reminder of a life he had already left behind, but on days like this, he was too tired to notice.

He arrived at the small coffee shop downstairs from his apartment just after the morning rush. He should have gone directly to bed, but he often found himself buzzing with a nervous energy on days like this, for which he had at least found one reliable cure—the handsome barista with the kind eyes.

There was something about the way the man smiled at him, something about the way that he spoke that made Hanzo believe that everything was going to be okay in a way he’d not felt in a decade. Hanzo was often too tired to try to engage in anything beyond a simple request for his beverage on such days, but he liked to pretend that on another day, he would come back, and have a proper conversation with the man, but that promise was always for tomorrow.

---

He was back again.

The gorgeous man in the tight-fitting shirt who didn’t speak a single word more than was needed to complete his transaction. He was what you might call a regular, although most regulars were far more susceptible to Jesse’s charm.

“You gonna talk to him this time, or you gonna keep being a chicken shit?” Sombra leaned in to ask in a bored voice. Jesse flipped her the middle finger without even turning to face her. She whistled. “Better watch that. Gonna ruin your good boy rep.”

“Just get started on his drink,” Jesse growled, taking his place at the till just as the man walked through the door. He put on what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Why howdy.”

“Large iced coffee with soy milk.”

Jesse’s heart fluttered and fell at exactly the same time. ‘Alright,” he agreed, his mind scrambling for a way to prolong the conversation. “I like your metal.”

The man looked up and blinked like a deer in headlights and Jesse’s confidence fell away. “The…ya know…” he tried to gesture around his face, realizing that he was just making it worse.”

Sombra saved him by setting the completed drink on the counter.

“What he means to say is, ‘that’ll be $4.50’.”

The man nodded, and placed the pile of coins in his hand on the table without counting. It was exactly enough, as it always was. “Thank you kindly,” Sombra drawled in an intentionally horrific imitation of Jesse’s parting greeting. The man nodded again, took his drink, and retreated to his preferred corner of the shop. Jesse gathered himself enough to shoot Sombra a glare.

She just shrugged. “Somebody had to say it. And it wasn’t gonna be you.”

He swatted at her before turning his attention to the next customer.

An hour later, the man was still there, back towards Jesse, head propped on his hands while looking out the window.

“So, chicken shit?” Sombra guessed.

Jesse grumbled something in incoherent Spanish. The stream of customers had slowed, as it often did in the late morning. Looking around, his eye caught one of his cheese scones. Acting before he could think better of it, Jesse plated the scone and marched it towards the man in the corner of the shop. He made sure his friendliest smile was on his lips before coughing politely.

No response.

From behind him, McCree could hear Sombra snort. He rolled his eyes and tried again.

“Hey there. Sorry to bother you but uhh…hello?”

Jesse peered down at the man to find his eyes closed, and that he was drooling from one side of his mouth. Jesse knew at that moment that he was fucked, because it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

Figuring that the man likely needed this sleep, he hastily grabbed a notepad from his apron and scrawled a note, propping it against the plate he placed to the side of the man’s empty drink.

---

Hanzo furrowed his brow in the sun, and shook himself awake. How long had he been dozing? He looked down at his watch, but his eyes caught sight of the scone and note first.

“To my favourite customer, on the house :)”

The smiley face had what looked like a crudely drawn cowboy hat on its head. Blinking the sand from his eyes, Hanzo turned to find the two baristas busy with the lunchtime crowd. He realized with a start that he was *surrounded* by people. Was this shop always this busy at this time?

The loud hum of people around him sounding too familiar, too fast.

It was becoming hard to breathe. Had he not just spent the last week with so little sleep, he would have been better able to handle this stress. Genji had been chastising him more and more recently about taking better care of himself.

Hanzo forced himself to take a long breath, and pushed himself to his feet. He focused intently on the scrawled writing and the small drawing, wondered at the type of person who would grant such a kindness, hoping secretly that it was the one whose voice was as soft to match. These thoughts grounded him enough so that what had been an overwhelming roar was now dimmed to white noise. Breathing a sigh of relief, he grabbed the note and fled.

---

The shop wasn’t big enough for Jesse to lose track of his favourite customer, and what he saw made him increasingly concerned. The man’s shoulders were shaking, as though something had spooked him.

“Sombra, hold the fort,” he called back absently, running for the door. The fact that she didn’t have a snarky response must have meant that she saw the man leave as well, and was equally worried.

Jesse opened the door to the crowded and noisy street, scanning the crowd fruitlessly. Reflecting on how he would act in such a situation, his eyes brought him to the walls of buildings which could have been used as support, and then, to the narrow alleys. Turning down the nearest one, he was relieved to find the man propped against the wall.

“Hey. Hey there darlin’,” he tried gently. The man’s shoulders had been heaving with effort, but froze upon hearing the voice.

“I’m here to help. Can I help you get anywhere? Is there someone I can call?”

There was a long pause before the man spoke.

“Upstairs.”

“Huh?” Jesse considered the request. He looked around and realized they were at a side entrance to the apartments above the coffee shop. “Oh! You live upstairs.”

The man nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you home then.” Jesse extended an arm downwards so that the other man could see it. The man’s head tilted, and he grasped at Jesse’s arms, moving his shaking hands up to his shoulders. Jesse held himself firm, partially to try to still the quick beat of his heart, partially to make sure he was sturdy support.

Together they made their way up several flights of stairs. The man fumbled for his keys, but managed to open the door with some effort.

The apartment was small and clean—too clean, actually. There was an expensive-looking computer in the living room, but aside from that, any decoration was sparse. The man curled himself up on the sofa, his back facing Jesse.

“Can I get you anythin’? Some water?”

The man shook his head no.

“Is there someone I can call for you?”

No again.

Jesse stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He couldn’t just leave Sombra to face the lunch-time rush by herself, after all.

“Listen, I’m worried ‘bout you, but gotta get back to work. Can I come check on you later on today?”

There was another pause, but to Jesse’s surprise, it was followed by a small nod.

“Okay,” Jesse nodded as well. He took out the notepad and a pen from his apron. “Can I get your buzzer number?”

The man wrote on the pad and thrust it back at Jesse without looking back.

“Alright,” Jesse mumbled, scribbling something of his own on a separate piece of paper. He ran to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, and put both the water and the paper on the coffee table. “Here’s my number if you need anythin’ in the meantime. Take it easy, pardner.”

He sprinted back to the shop, and his heart sank a little to find Gabe behind the counter, where he should have been. His boss didn’t look as angry as he should have though, and simply waved for Jesse to join him.

Two hours later, the crowd thinned enough for them to take a breather. McCree braced himself for a lecture, which meant he wasn’t prepared for anything different.

“How is he?” Gabe asked.

Jesse blinked and turned to Sombra.

She shrugged. “Had to tell him why you ran out.”

McCree was about to thank her sincerely when Gabe cut in.

“Sombra says he’s hot.”

Jesse clenched his teeth. “He’s fine.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Okay, Sombra says he’s fine.”

Sombra cackled and ducked a wet towel that Jesse threw in her direction.

“No, I mean he’s doin’ fine. I told him I’d go check on him after my shift.”

Gabe and Sombra exchanged a glance.

“What?” Jesse snapped, feeling very much like they were conspiring against him.

“There’s nothin’ happening right now,” Gabe pointed out. “And I’m here anyhow. Take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Boss—”

“That’s an order,” Gabe barked. McCree deflated, but was secretly grateful to his colleagues who he acknowledged as his family.

“Take him some food,” Gabe added.

McCree frowned. “He didn’t touch the scone at all.”

“You gave him a scone?” Sombra asked incredulously. “That’s real romantic.”

“How is any pastry any more or less goddamn romantic than any other?” Jesse grumbled.

She thrust a box into his hands. “Cake. Always start with cake.”

“She’s right,’ Gabe shrugged. “Now get outta here!”

“I’m gettin,’ I’m gettin’!” McCree threw off his apron and went to the back for his things.

---

Hanzo woke slowly, with the sun warming his back. He stared at the back of the sofa, trying to remember how he had gotten home.

Oh.

While he hadn’t been able to get a good look at the man, he would have recognized the voice anywhere.

The barista.

He sat up too quickly and instantly regretted it, holding his head with a groan. There was a glass of water on the coffee table which he took gratefully, next to piece of paper. There was a phone number scrawled, and the name “Jesse”. Next to the name was a smiley face with that same cowboy hat perched jauntily on its head, and Hanzo couldn’t help but smile.

His buzzer went off right at that moment. Dragging himself to his feet, Hanzo pressed the intercom button.

“Yes?”

“Hey there. It’s Jesse, from the Blackwatch Café? I promised you I’d check on you after my shift ended.”

Hanzo hesitated.

“You don’t gotta let me up or anything,” Jesse continued. “But if you needed anythin’ I’m here to help.”

The kind words matched everything the man had done for him so far. Hanzo decided that he had to express his gratitude in person.

“Please come up. Apartment 503.”

After pressing the button, Hanzo rushed to the bathroom to comb out his hair. The dark rings under his eyes were still there from this morning, but were a bit lighter. He frowned at himself, wondering if he had time to change out of his rumbled shirt. A swift knock at the door told him he did not.

Hanzo ran to the door, and took a long breath before pulling it open.

The good-looking man with tawny brown hair and wide shoulders greeted him with an even wider smile.

“Hello there,” Jesse extended his hand. “Good to see you doin’ better.”

“Hanzo.” Hanzo shook his hand. “Thank you for your aid earlier.”

“Not a problem,” Jese waved it off. “Just glad I could help my favourite customer.”

“You cannot mean that,” Hanzo frowned. “I have been told that I am barely functional on the days I need coffee.”

Jesse laughed. “I figure I see people at their worst every mornin’.”

“And yet I am still your ‘favourite’?” Hanzo asked curiously.

“Oh!” Jesse scratched at his head and blushed. “Yeah, you are.”

When he offered no other explanation, Hanzo decided that he really wanted one.

“Would you like to come inside?”

“Not if it’s a bother—”

“It is no bother,” Hanzo interrupted, stepping aside to allow him entrance. The beaming smile alone made it worth it.

Jesse sat on the sofa that Hanzo had been sleeping on not so long ago.

“Can I get you anything?” Hanzo inquired. “I have water and…soy milk.”

He flushed, and began to wish he had more to offer, but Jesse chuckled. “Water would be great. It’s what I woulda asked for anyhow.”

Hanzo nodded, and left to fill a glass from the tap.

“That thing that happened…does it happen often?” Jesse asked hesitantly. Hanzo returned and handed him the glass.

“No,” Hanzo shook his head. “It was my own fault. I have been overworking myself recently, and did not get proper sleep.”

Jesse frowned. “Gotta take care of yourself, Han.”

It sounded exactly like something his brother might say, but coming from Jesse, coupled with the new nickname, the words filled Hanzo with an odd warmth.

“I do what I must.”

“Takin’ care of yourself is a must,” Jesse chided lightly. His face was twisted with real concern though. “What’re you doin’ drinkin’ coffee when you should be sleepin’ anyhow?”

Hanzo hesitated. “I find it calming.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “That’s not unheard of, I guess. But does it affect your slee—”

“With you in the room. I find you calming,” Hanzo blurted out.

He slapped his hand over his mouth after the words escaped, deciding that he really *did* need to get better sleep and also that it just might be possible to die from embarrassment.

“Oh.”

Hanzo looked up to try to write off his comment as a joke, but found Jesse beaming at him.

“I’m glad you feel that way. Because I like seein’ you too.”

Hanzo sat beside him on the sofa, gathering strength from that kind smile that he had long admired.

“I would be pleased to know you better,” he tried carefully. Jesse’s smile widened.

“Me too. You probably wanna grab some shut eye, but maybe aft—”

A loud growl from Hanzo’s stomach interrupted Jesse’s mid-sentence, and he laughed. “Or maybe we could get some take out? I also brought you this.”

He handed Jesse a clear plastic box with a slice of strawberry cake.

“For after lunch,” Jesse added, seeing how Hanzo’s eyes widened with delight. “Wait, breakfast?”

Hanzo shrugged. “You are not the first to say I should take better care of myself.”

“Well I’ll be here to make sure that you do,” Jesse replied. “If you’d like,” he added hastily.

Hanzo smiled. “I would like nothing more.”

Genji, from somewhere else in the city: wtf anija I’ve been telling you exactly the same things for five years ;-;

#AU august #my writing #firefly writes #coffee shop au #mchanzo

[halfcape]

Finished up S1 of Tokyo Ghoul – (spoilers for a lot of the series)

I’m not a ~lore stan, but there are already way too many world-building and really just basic storytelling issues I’ve seen so far that’s messing with my interest in this series. Maybe some of this stuff is better explained in the manga, but I’ve checked the wiki, and it seems to be pretty faithful.

- there’s a lot of suspension of disbelief when it comes to just accepting how Kaneki was turned into an artificial ghoul. This wouldn’t bother me so much if it wasn’t a plot point, but it is. Why does transplanting some ghoul organs (which ones?) into a human body change … the nature of the entire human body? How was he able to survive that if the organs are apparently so different? You don’t need to be a med or nursing student to understand that the organ systems all work together. Yes, I know that it’s fiction and there’s some stuff you need to just accept to get through the story, but this is asking too much, especially when the author makes a point to lean into “real life science” explanations for fantasy/sci-fi elements.

Even stuff like Twilight make an effort to explain the vampire transformation process (magical sparkly hard skin, etc) but goes the ‘less is more’ route. This ~magical transformation is stupid, but it’s at least consistent in a stupid story. Personal preference, maybe, but I’d much rather read a ‘magic did that’ explanation instead of ‘mad scientist guy switched the organs out of magical monsters chick like a jigsaw puzzle which explains how a human got magical monster powers’. Though when I skipped ahead to see how everything ended (I don’t have hours to burn into cross-checking the manga for adaption accuracy), considering that Kaneki and the blue-haired Creator’s Pet end up basically having an anime-Renesmee babu by the end of this series (even though there is a scene at the beginning explicitly saying that this really should not be possible), maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve read that the author’s also a lit major (……..), so maybe he’s secretly Into Twilight and other dumb popular crap? Who knows.

- there doesn’t seem to be much of a practical difference in-universe between half-ghouls and full-ghouls, which unfortunately ruins a lot of the dramatic weight for Kaneki’s story. The only major differences are that Kaneki has the one red eye, still smells like a human, regenerates really fast, and … that’s it. He still stuck with the Food Problem, and no “in-between” way to avoid participating in the morally bad thing that would make him a monster. Tbf, I don’t watch too much monster fantasy stuff, but with characters that are “half-species” like Keith from Voltron (he is a badly written character, but yeah) and Marvel’s Blade, there’s something that’s different enough for the characters to “blend in” with both worlds without having to be a complete monster (why bother writing the character as half if they’re the same as the full monsters). With Blade, he had the strengths of being a vampire and could go outside, but the disadvantage of blood thirst, which he’s able to manage with a serum. Keith is technically Galra, but can pass for human, which is relevant to the plot since the Galra are the antagonists and he won’t be persecuted because he doesn’t look like them. Kaneki is just a ghoul with one red eye and a human smell. (I had some ideas of how the series might work better if Kaneki had that in-between, but honestly this series isn’t good enough for me to do the work of the author, so I’m not posting them).

- The ghouls are not sympathetic as the “oppressed monster” trope. You instantly lose your humanity points when you’re Eating People, whether or not your “bIoLoGy” requires that. Kaneki is the exception, but that’s only because he used to be human, and his body was forcibly “changed” into a monster. His story is tragic because the writer at least seems to understand that eating people is pretty fucking irredeemable and it’s near-impossible to write around this. (Unless you’re a vore fan, but I don’t think they’re the target demographic for this series.) The people at Anteiku have made the best of a bad situation by cannibalizing dead bodies, for example, but Kaneki’s revulsion to even that means it’s still terrible.

- The whole 'don’t tell humans you’re a ghoul’ meme that generic angry blue chick rages about isn’t really that impactful when everyone in the universe already knows ghouls exist. And her bff is human.

- The in-universe reaction to the existence of the ghouls isn’t realistic. Yes, there is a special police branch to deal with them, but this is an inadequate response to literal cannibalistic monsters living in a human society. I thought there’d be something like the government system keeping track of ghouls rather than just letting them wander around and ~hoping that … they don’t eat too many people every few months? That they don’t completely overpower humans, since they canonically can do that? … Why are ghouls allowed to roam around, anyway?

- There are too many characters, and most of them are forgettable or underdeveloped. Characters like Nishiki are not given enough time to be redeemed for doing shitty things, so I can’t get invested in them. No, I don’t care about your sad backstory when you’re introduced kicking the the protag’s best friend into the wall for shock value.

- That said, Blue Anger is easily the worst in the main cast. Watching scenes with her is almost as painful as watching LOK’s Mako not being held accountable for pretty much anything. Nishiki may be underdeveloped, and other characters like Tsukiyama just make me tired (and he’s not good queer rep, but I’m not going to talk about that right now), but at least Nishiki gets knocked around a few times so it doesn’t feel like he’s completely getting away with being a dick. Bleugh gets to treat the cast like garbage, kick and beat up Kaneki repeatedly, murder humans in broad daylight, doesn’t suffer significantly for making bad choices (like uhh murder), and we’re still expected to like her because she has a generic cute anime girl design.

- there’s also a lot of sexist and other gross gender-related themes in this, but that’s for another post, maybe.

also, the usual “don’t @ me about the following”:

- “you're being too critical, it’s not a character study”. yes it is

- “Not Everything Is ATLA” yes, isn’t it sad that a children’s show has better character development than a "seinen” series.

- “the author had health problems while he was writing it” yup, and that’s valid. Just like the criticisms of the series.

- “why are you even watching this if you have so many problems with it?” I haven’t watched anything this Edgy in awhile and it’s horror.

- “I like this series, which means you’re attacking me personally by criticizing it.’ sIgh

#tokyo ghoul/// #thoughts/meta #character dislike #longpost #sorry if you're on mobile #media criticism