#he also voiced the big bro in big hero six

[shefanispeculator]

For every new star on the recording scene, there is at least one unheralded industry drone without whom that star might never have shone. In the case of Blake Shelton, who is about to receive his well-deserved Hollywood Walk of Fame star after more than two decades as one of country music’s best, there are probably more like a dozen heroes who made Blake’s incredible career possible.

One of those heroes is your humble Nashville correspondent, me. No, that’s the truth. Once or twice in your life the impossible hits you between the eyes and you need to be prepared if you want to turn it into pure sunshine before the inevitable eclipse drifts in.

One day in 1995 or 1996 I got a call from Jim Sharpe, then publisher of American Songwriter magazine.  He had found this big kid from Oklahoma, best singer he’d ever heard, would I like to come by the office to hear him sing?  “Why?” I asked. You see, I was trying to dodge what the gods were hurling at me.  I was done with the music business. I would just be a waste of this kid’s time.

But a week or two later found me in Sharpe’s office shaking hands with this kid, six-foot-four, great looking, with a big, black cowboy hat, big black Takamine guitar, a voice so huge it shook the walls of Sharpe’s office, and a laugh to match.

I was hooked, and soon we were writing songs together every Tuesday.

But nothing further happened until a couple from California hired me to run their music publishing company. We signed Shelton to a publishing deal. And then nothing more happened. I learned that he’d already been turned down by labels all over Music Row, talent be damned.

Now comes the big twist in the story.

I’m not the hero, after all.  The hero is a guy I’m about to call. Bobby Braddock has written or co-written many of country music’s biggest hits, including “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” “I Wanna Talk About Me,” “People Are Crazy,” “Golden Ring,” “Time Marches On” and “D-I-V-O-R-C-E.”  He also produces terrific demos and he’s always wanted to produce records.

The call goes like this:

“Hello, Homer (his phone name is Homer, and mine is Jethro). I’ve got something I want you to hear.” I’m holding an old microcassette tape recorder in my right hand, and a telephone receiver in my left. This phone call is high-tech. I push the recorder flush against my telephone mouthpiece and press the start button. Homer listens to Blake sing for a little more than two minutes.  When the tape has finished playing, Bobby speaks.

“The song is OK, but who’s that singer?”

“He’s 20 years old and we signed him a couple of months ago,” I reply.

“He sounds like a young Hank Jr. Can I meet him?”

The three of us met at Braddock’s house and Braddock and Shelton hit it off immediately. Braddock agreed to produce Shelton, and Braddock persuaded his publishing company, Sony/ATV Music, to pay for the session. That’s a big deal, to get a producer and publisher to put time and money into a session.  But the hard part is not cutting the session — it’s getting a record company to love the session and sign the artist.

Armed with the fresh recording, Braddock hit the pavement. One label at a time. Fortunately, in 1998, there were still a lot of record labels left in Nashville.

“I took Blake’s CD all over town,” says Braddock. “RCA showed some interest, but they passed. Arista Records showed enough interest to request a showcase, and we gave it to them, then they passed. I was running out of record labels. The last label I went to was Giant Records, an affiliate of Warner Bros. Doug Johnson listened hard. And he said yes.”

Now life got tougher. Braddock produced an album by Shelton. Virtually everybody at the label loved it. Braddock, Shelton and a whole lot of other people waited for the album to be released. And they waited. People wondered why they waited.

Then Debbie Zavitson, a stalwart of Giant Records’ A&R department, received a CD from publisher Jana Talbot of a special song called “Austin,” written by David Kent and Kirsti Manna. Braddock, Shelton and a handful of great session players went to Sound Stage recording studio on Music Circle South and cut “Austin” and two other songs. Braddock recalls that the label had picked another song for the first single, but he had sent copies of the session to several friends and they felt that “Austin” was the hit. He took this new information from “the people,” and, he says, convinced the label to go with “Austin” instead. Then they waited, and while they waited, rumors circulated that Giant Records might soon be closing down.

“It took Giant three years to put out Blake’s record,” says Braddock, his brow furrowed in puzzlement over the memory. “And it never would have gotten out at all, if it hadn’t been for Fritz Kuhlman!”

Braddock would later refer to Kuhlman as “the promotion man who committed mutiny.” Kuhlman had heard the rumors about Giant, and while he was not a powerful executive at the label, he did have the ability to send out copies of “Austin” to country radio stations all over the country. And that’s just what he did, because he believed in “Austin.” 

Stations began to play “Austin,” but Giant closed its doors anyway. By this time it didn’t matter. “Austin” was hot with or without a label. Giant’s parent company, Warner Bros., picked up the record and ran with it, and thanks to Kuhlman, “Austin” became a multi-week No. 1 country smash. 

Country music had a brand new star. Over the next two decades, Shelton would pump out hit after hit, and become a national TV icon on the worldwide hit show “The Voice,” as well as a member of the venerable Grand Ole Opry. I can’t help but think of the many heroes it took to make it happen for Blake Shelton.

Of course there’s Shelton, with all that talent, heart and personality. Then there’s Bobby Braddock, one of Nashville’s greatest songwriters, listening to hundreds of other people’s songs in search of that special one for Shelton. And Braddock in the studio, hour after hour, with some of the world’s best studio musicians, background singers and studio engineers, pursuing the perfect record. Then cruising from label to label, determined to find a yes among all the inevitable no answers. And then there’s me, playing a cassette over the phone to my friend Braddock, who I thought was a genius in a recording studio.

And gutsy Kuhlman, on his own, mailing out CDs on a wing and a prayer.

Lots of other heroes, too, braving the stiff competition: promoters, publicists, A&R people, bookers, roadies, managers — and nobody outside the business knows their names. It took a lot of skill and experience to make a music industry in those days, and I like to think it still does.

[purpledisastertwin900]

OKAY LISTEN

One thing I absolutely hate ab the TMNT fandom is that everybody draws/writes the Bayverse kids as super sexy, sexual, explicit, and adult. Son.

They are 15.

They are idiots.

But are there like, ANY crack/fluff fics ab them! NO! It’s all hardcore explicit and disgusting!! Guys!

They’re idiots not sexual!

And I have PROOF!

Times they were ✨so dumb✨ in the first movie:

2 minutes in, Raph uses his “Batman Voice” on April.

Mikey has a really big crush on April. He says the most idiotic and out of pocket stuff to her the whole movie, such as: We’re teenagers-but we can still have ✨adult conversations✨ *eyebrow goes up, queue “suave” chuckle*

And then-“Guys I totally talked to a girl!” “Shut UP Mikey!”

On their wait home from the encounter with April they all got stuck in a tunnel opening together, with the 3 facing one way and Mikey facing the other way, he notices his advantage and farts on them on purpose=sibling culture personified

Sneaking back into the lair= a shushing fest “-YoU GoT SpIt In My EyE”

Splinter finds them, Donnie and Mikey try to come up with excuses: “Uhhh I forgot to soak my retainer!!” *tries to sneak away, gets shlapped* “I’m asleep! I’m sleepwalking rn! Mikey’s totally innocent-“ *gets shlapped*

Dang raph acc knitted like a whole blanket right then in the Hashi (is that how you spell it-)

*calling April for the first time* “It’s me! Donatello-remember me, turtle, four eyes-nvm” and at the end: “Come alone! Or you shall be punished-and and stuff”

Also Raph is wearing boots. Like straight up boots. Like puss in boots kind of boots. wHy dOeS hE GeT bOoTs

The whole Adrenalin scene BRO-“I feel like CLEANING!!” Leo besides Adrenalin wtf are you on

Donnie, entering the line of fire: “Oh my gosh they have GUNS” *voice goes up 6 SIX HECKIN OCTAVES* i cannot watch this without WHEEZING

Yall soon as they figured out they were bulletproof they immediately went directly into the line of fire to get shot at bc they thought it was awesome, like they grinned and did it on PURPOSE.

Raph, in the back of a semi careening down the mountain: “My shells cracked, j tape it up”

Donatello, also in truck: “Allow me to be the badass for once” -he then DOUBLE takes like ooohhh I just said that what-

*jumps out of semi*

Also Donatello, sliding down mountain in front of a car: “I’ve always wanted to try this” FLIPS A CAR-GIGGLES and SNORTS bc of it

Raph really said WOOOOHOOOO as he took out a car

*Slapping Leo to wake him up as they slide down the mountain bc hes unconscious*

Donnie yeets raph into an assault vehicle, Raph enjoys it and totals the vehicle

*Mikey mourns April and Verne as they have just careened over a cliff*

Raph, sliding by like on a sled but there’s no sled: They ain’t dead numb nuts!

Mikey: oh! Right on.

Elevator scene. Y’all know what I’m talking ab.

“Let’s play buck buck” and it works somehow bc ofc

Donnie: *succeeds* “Who wants Italian, I’m buyin-terimasu for everybody!!”

Mikey freaking blew up Verns car while trying to play music so he could sing to April

Mikey continues flirting with April and ALL three of his bros are so embarrassed and trying to get him to shut the f up

Mikey continues to sing horribly off key and with awful timing

Last line of the movie, as our heroes fade into the night: “SHUT UP Mikey!!!”

So yeah they’re silly guys.

So so dumb.

And honestly they’re so underrated, everybody hates the bay movies but like honestly it’s pretty funny and they’re fun movies to watch.

So yeah.

I love my silly guys.

#bayverse turtles #bayverse donnie #bayverse mikey #bayverse leo #bayverse raph #bay movies #honestly these guys are stupid #they’re all dum dums #I love them so much #why does Leo have like 2 funny lines in this movie tho

[gumnut-logic]

Dad (or Five times Alan’s brothers carried him to bed and one time they didn’t) (Part 1)

This is all @flyboytracy​ ‘s fault :P ::hugs:: From this post

Many thanks to @godsliltippy​ for saving the ending and reading the rest through.

You may have noticed I haven’t written a thing for at least a couple of weeks, so I’ve reached the stage of writing whatever the hell works, so consider me grabbing at straws and this is what happens.

This also got a little more realistic than I expected. Alan has faced a lot of trauma in his life, losing both parents, watching Gordon go through the hydrofoil accident, and seeing his brothers risk their lives daily...this may lead to some insecurities, to put it mildly. So it kinda wrote that way.

I hope you enjoy this first part. First couple of hundred words were written and posted this morning, but most is new tonight. Each part will be kinda standalone-ish, so hopefully there won’t be any WIP trauma like I cause far too often. ::hugs the lot of you::

-o-o-o-

The first time it happened was unintentional.

It started with Gordon’s first mission after the hydrofoil accident. Prior to that, when his big brothers were out on rescues, Alan had Gordon.

Gordon was a big bro, but he was only six years older than Alan and they shared all kinds of conspiracies and plots. Gordon was his best friend on an island of family.

So, when that first call came and Gordon was deployed along with the rest of his brothers, Alan found himself the only brother at home in a very empty comms room.

Sure, Grandma was there and she checked in on him, made sure his homework was done and gave all the hugs, but his brothers were different. They had always been there and while they were still there, they weren’t, and could be in danger.

He guessed it was the first time it really sunk in exactly what his brothers put on the line every time they launched.

And Gordon had just climbed back up a horribly steep slope to a fully functional body…the thoughts were fully capable of spiralling.

Eventually he cracked and called John.

There was something in his big brother’s eyes when he responded, something that embarrassed Alan for showing any vulnerability. He was a brother to heroes, for goodness’ sake, he shouldn’t be needy.

But John’s expression was still loving and Alan found himself wishing he was up there on Five with him.

Instead, Alan settled for a feed showing his other three brothers wading through mud.

So much mud.

And death.

Maybe watching wasn’t such a good idea.

At several points he found himself yelling out to Gordon or Scott or Virgil when something happened. Both John and Grandma tried to distract him, but this was important.

He had to see.

So he sat there.

Watching.

Both terrified and comforted by seeing his brothers in action.

The day wore into night, but the day where his brothers were, was still ongoing and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to stop watching. Even when both Grandma and John told him to stop.

He kicked up enough of a stink to put even more worry into both of their expressions, something he regretted, but he had this need to see his brothers through this.

He may only be watching but it felt as if he was doing something, even if it was just being there.

He knew John was watching him, he knew he was worrying his family, but this was Gordon’s first rescue.

Alan had to be there.

But the rescue was a long one. Mudslides usually were. And the Tracy Island night moved on and on. Grandma dragged him to bed eventually, but once she was in bed herself, Alan snuck back down to the Comms room and quietly contacted John.

The worried red frown almost had him balking, but the alternative was lying in bed waiting for the sound of rocket engines returning to the Island.

At least here he could see his brothers.

So with as much little brother pleading as he could throw into his voice and expression, he convinced John this was the only way.

Alan had no doubt that he would be getting poked and prodded by Virgil tomorrow, questioned by a worried Scott, and maybe even ribbed by Gordon…but honestly, he would just be happy to have them home.

Perhaps he was being pathetic, sitting in the dark staring up at the holoprojector, watching his brothers work.

But Two’s external cameras caught Virgil hugging a young child to his chest, distress plain on his face. They caught Scott’s sharp tone of command as something collapsed out of sight. They caught Gordon dragging himself towards the module only to lean face first into Two’s fuselage, exhaustion in every muscle movement.

But they also caught Virgil wrapping an arm around Gordon’s shoulders and his lips moving ever so reassuringly. Gordon leant into their big brother a moment before straightening up and shaking himself.

It was obvious Virgil wanted Gordon out of the fray, but Gordon was as much a Tracy as any of them, and disappeared off camera with a firmer resolve.

Virgil stood watching him go. Alan’s heavy lifting brother was mud personified. There were cleaner spots where his exo-suit had obviously been attached to him, but they were only a lighter shade of mud.

Scott did not appear on Two’s cameras as much as his other brothers, but when he did, if shook the sleep out of Alan’s eyes as he latched onto his biggest brother.

Scott was different when he was working. Alan had seen it when his brother was talking to people at Tracy Industries. His whole body changed. He almost became another person.

It was both a little alarming and reassuring.

At home, Alan loved the fact he could divebomb his biggest bro and pillow fight him to the floor. There was often laughter, tussles and hugs.

But when he was working there was something just a little amazing. His big brother was so…grown up. People listened to Scott and did what he said. All his brothers did what Scott said – mostly, Gordon knew how to start a fight. And there were words between Virgil and Scott at times, too, even if neither of them thought Alan knew about that.

At least not since those first months after Dad disappeared.

Alan swallowed and looked back up the holoprojection. He still didn’t like thinking about Dad.

Well, not so much about Dad himself, but more that he was gone.

He missed him so much.

As Virgil strode into view directing someone out of view, Alan blinked the blur out of his eyes and tightened the quilt around himself.

He so missed Dad.

Dad who was so tall, even taller than Scotty, stronger than Virgil, had eyes that saw more than Johnny, and a laugh deeper than Gordon’s.

For a moment, Alan was hung on what he had inherited from his father, but then he remembered.

Alan was going to fly rockets just like his Dad. He was going to shoot out beyond the atmosphere, beyond Thunderbird Five, beyond the moon, maybe even to Mars just like his Dad.

Just like his Dad.

It was thoughts of his father that followed him into an uneasy sleep and kept him company in his dreams. Kind grey eyes, strong arms always there ready for a hug.

Flying Thunderbird Three, ever so fast, out into the stars.

It was sometime later that his dreams of landing Three on Mars with Dad showing him how, that the giant rockets shook what he was lying on.

The dream dissolved into reality and with it came the grief that his father was gone. It was Thunderbird One’s rockets shaking the couch and the light coming through the rafters was the very first hints of dawn.

Caught between what he wanted and what was, Alan curled up tighter under his quilt. He loved his brothers more than anything.

But he missed his Dad.

He may have fallen asleep again, but it was an uneasy slumber, tampered by light and sound.

The deep baritone of Virgil, the lighter, but no less commanding disagreement of Scott.

A hush from Gordon.

His brothers were home and safe.

The relief washed over Alan like a wave, his breath leaving his body in a sigh.

“Shh, there little bro. I think it is time for you to go to bed.”

Alan may have muttered something, he wasn’t sure, because then there were arms lifting him. For a split second, heart-breaking moment, the image of his Dad came to mind, but again that crushing reality hit home again and he curled up in Gordon’s arms.

Because yes, it was Gordon holding him. The whispered complaint about how many burgers Alan had been eating lately was so Gordon.

And so loved.

Gordon wasn’t his Dad. His arms weren’t as big, or as strong. But Gords…was strong inside and all that swimming…maybe he was stronger?

His brother carried him to the elevator and Alan snuggled up. At least if Gordon thought he was asleep, he could claim he had no idea what had happened.

And it gave him the opportunity just be with his brother. He trusted him with everything…

The sound of sandshoes on the hardwood floor and his brother’s breathing carried him through the hallways of the residential section to his room. Gordon kicked open the door and shuffled him in.

There was a pause as he eyed both the bed and the rug on the floor. Then, decision made, Alan was placed gently on his cool sheets and the soft mattress beneath. The covers were pulled up over him, and Gordon tucked him in.

“I know you’re awake, Allie.” It was said quietly and when Alan didn’t answer, Gordon let out a breath. “You know I’m here if you want to talk. Or Virg, Johnny or Scott.” A swallow. “I know it can be…” There was a pause as if his brother was looking for a word. “…hard to be left at home. We’re here, Allie, for whatever you need.”

Alan froze, his eyes still closed, wanting to respond, but not wanting to lose the moment.

But then there was a hand in his hair and the briefest of kisses to his forehead. “Okay, Allie?”

Alan couldn’t answer.

The hand brushed his hair again before the pressure on the bed was released as Gordon stood up. “Sleep well, and I’ll see you later.”

There was another pause as if Gordon was waiting for something.

But Alan didn’t move.

There was another sigh and next minute the bed sunk down again as Gordon clambered over him. There were no words. Just a shifting of the quilt cover and an arm wrapped around him, pulling him in tight into the warmest hug ever.

Alan’s heart swelled fit to burst.

Whispered. “Thanks, Gords.”

Whispered back. “Yeah, knew you were awake. Now go to sleep before Scott kills the both of us.”

Alan couldn’t help but grin.

But with his brothers home and safe, Alan could finally sleep.

So he did.

-o-o-o-

 Part 2

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttyfic #not a reblog #yay

[perfect-fourth]

#ooc #faceclaim #daniel henney #plz take a moment to enjoy this very hamsome middle aged korean american man at various points in his career #daniel henney appreciation post tbh #he also voiced the big bro in big hero six #long post #spammy #but look at him tho

[hansolmates]

busted in busan 

summary; you’re snowbound at the airport, when the only thing you want is to be homebound. your anxieties heighten as the snow rises, worried that you won’t make it in time for christmas where your fiancé and his parents expect you—picture perfect. when all flights are cancelled due to a massive storm, you have to turn to the hands of an unlikely, hard-headed hero who knows the fastest way out of busan (and into your heart) pairing; jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; a christmas detour!au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, pining, this is a total romcom, hallmark movie galore! tw–microcheating (or not however you look at it) mentions of sex, making out, profanity w/c; 10k   a/n; for @suhdays​ holiday hallmark event! this event was totally up my lane, i couldn’t wait to post it! a huge thank u for @eerieedits​ for making this wonderful fic banner! this is totally unedited, i’ll to go back to it tonight but pls enjoy! for those of u who need a little more christmas charm this year, this is for u

if you loved this icy couple, please consider giving it a like n’share!⛄⛄⛄

“The Korean Air 1102 flight from Gimhae International Airport to Incheon International Airport will be delayed six hours due to the intense weather conditions. Please be on standby for any further updates.” 

You’re twitching, fighting the urge to nibble on your nails because you’ve just got them done for Christmas. They’re a sleek champagne gold, because your fiancé insisted that they’re far more mature than your usual red and brown reindeer art. This is awful, and is only going to get progressively worse as the snow builds and builds. Right now the weather isn’t that bad, the snow isn’t even sticking to the ground and—oh. 

Gnawing at your lip, your fingers brush over the cold window, a clear view of the landing strip you should currently be boarding. The touch is icy, and the pads of your fingers are enveloped in little rings of fog at the sudden warmth nudging the glass. Upon closer inspection and a squint of your eyes reveal that in fact, the snow is now sticking to the ground. Big, fat clumps are covering the freeway and destroying your Christmas plans. 

Your fiancé will understand if you’re a little late for their Christmas Eve party, but you’re not sure if his parents will. You’ve been on livewire all week, wanting to at least spend the morning of Christmas Eve with your family back home. Knowing that your fiancé’s Christmas Eve party would run until very late, you booked a noon flight with enough time to get ready and impress his parents. Evidently, it was an ill-prepared idea. 

Immediately falling into your terminal’s line, you hope that you can talk with the receptionist in hopes they could put you at ease. 

“How soon will you announce our flight’s departure?” A sad smile. 

“Is there any way you can put me on the next possible flight?” A shake of the head. 

“Will the weather let up?” A frown. 

Every bit of rejection weighs you down, and you’ve run out of questions to ask. For a receptionist, she’s not very receptive. 

“C’mon lady, you’re holding up the line,” a voice tugs you from behind, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta get down to the city on Christmas.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, wanting to slap the rudeness off this man’s face. Instead of falling back in line, you move to the side to glare at him. He’s unfortunately attractive, albeit in a rugged sort-of way—nothing like your fiancé. The leather jacket that he carries tall is worn and crackly at the collar. Wavy dark hair he constantly has to hold back, a gesture that looks flirtatious and to your chagrin the receptionist is definitely recepting to him. 

“Your refund should be processed in about two to four business days, Mr. Jeon,” the receptionist murmurs, the simultaneously sultry and chirpy voice making you twitch in your spot. Maybe if you drank a cup of tall, dark and handsome you’d be getting the same kind of treatment. 

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, and it’s then you notice the extremely large luggage next to him. It’s the size of you, and despite the broad shoulders under the baggy jacket, he lugs it with careful force, making sure not to bump into anyone as he wheels it away from the counter. 

It seems that your trainers have a mind of your own as you follow him down the terminal. He side eyes you as your feet pick up the pace to match his long legs, but he waits for you to say something first. 

“Why did you ask for a refund?” you ask, frowning at him, “the flight is only delayed.” 

He scoffs, “Do you see the snow? They’re just saying it’s delayed so they can hold onto your money a little longer. Besides, it’s a win-win. I get my refund sooner and some other poor sap can take the ticket and wait until five in the morning.” 

“Five A.M.,” you exhale to yourself, slowing down. 

It would be too late by then, far too late. Your shoulders slump, people start to bump into you without a care. 

“Besides,” you hear his voice say from your stricken form, “I had a backup plan.” 

That’s when your feet start to burn up, and you whip around to pump your legs, catching up with the man who’s already far down the hall. “What kind of backup plan?” you blurt, raising your voice because the crowds are starting to get noisier and deeper the further you follow him. 

He hooks his lips into a confused frown, “You’re awfully nosy.” 

“I’m in a pinch, my fiancé’s parents will kill me if I don’t show up to their party tonight.” 

“Your fiancé’s parents�� will kill you?” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” you cough, immediately feeling self-conscious, “they’d kill me with their eyes. They’re really big, really pretty corporate people. They have high expectations for their future in-law.” 

“Ah, and you're the country pumpkin who managed to sweep the rich guy off his feet?” 

“Something like that,” you reply, rocking on your heels, “my dad was his dad’s former secretary, and we grew up together.” 

The stranger with a plan stops in front of a long line. It’s so long that you’re not entirely sure where it leads to. People are piling out the door two at a time, and you can see they’re trying to get through the process as fast as possible. The window leading outside is blurry and caked in white ice. He hooks one leg over his luggage, the metal and plastic case is so high that his feet barely touch the ground. Like a kid with a flat scooter, he wheels himself through the line. 

“These lines are for busses going in the direction of our flight,” he jabs a finger out the door, “if the flight got cancelled I was just going to ride one of these,” out of his pocket he pulls out two tickets, flicking it in front of your face.

“Are there any tickets left?” your eyes bug, and you immediately pull out your phone to reserve a spot. 

“Nah, been booked since last month.” 

It’s then that your eyes zero in on the second ticket he has in hand. Both tickets are addressed to the same name. You lower your phone in your pocket, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you have two for yourself?” 

He pats his luggage as a response. 

“That’s not fair!” 

“It is when you buy it, sweetheart.” 

“A literal human could be in that spot, wanting to go home for Christmas!”

“You’re just salty you don’t have a ticket, don’t take it out on my luggage,” he feigns a pout, rubbing the handle of the heavy container, “you’re hurting it’s feelings.” 

It doesn’t take long for you and the stranger to reach the end of the line. To others in line the two of you look like two companions bickering good-naturedly, but in reality the only thing you want to do is slap that smug smile off his face. 

“You want my ticket,” he states. 

“I want your luggage’s ticket,” you bite back, staring petulantly at where he sits comfortably between the handle. 

Unbeknownst to you, the man’s face morphs into a teasing grin upon seeing you glare a little too hard at the silver and black case. It just so happens that your eyes gravitate to the middle of the luggage, at the apex between his long legs leading up to a pair of black sweats. Despite the soft, baggy fabric you can see how the bulge of his thighs outline the thin cotton, looking large and inviting which—

Fuck. You’re engaged. Why are you checking out some stranger’s thighs? Your fiancé also has nice thighs, think about those! 

“How much do you want for it?” you cough, crossing your arms and turning to the side to hide your flaming cheeks. 

“Who said I was offering?” 

“I’ll pay that and then some.”

“With your rich-boy’s money?” 

If your hands were not digging into your elbows and you weren’t so concerned about your gold-foiled manicure, you’d deck him. Do the holidays normally make this person so snappy? He simply flips his hair, and you catch the shaved ends of his sides. 

“Three-hundred,” he says easily, and if he notices you staring he doesn’t say anything, “including any extra fees for my luggage.”

“Done,” you hold out your hand for him to shake. 

“I’m Jungkook, if you care,” the man named Jungkook adds wryly, practically swallowing your small hand with his larger one. You shortly reply with your name, and he merely nods, “a thank you would suffice.” 

“Thanks,” and it’s then that you manage a scarily pretty smile, one that Jungkook finds both alarming and amusing. It’s a catered smile, one that you’ve trained yourself to accomplish after hours in the mirror in fear of your fiancé’s parents seeing right through you. It’s the smile you give during work when you don’t give a shit but you need to suck it up. It’s a 9/10 success rate. 

“Scary,” he shivers, and then you realize he’s the 1/10. 

The only bus for you two to pile on is one of the smallest. Probably half the size of a regular coach bus, but at this rate you don’t care. You’ll fly by hot air balloon if the weather wasn’t so crappy. 

“Taehyung!” you startle at Jungkook’s sudden belt, and he does a big, beefy-chested bro-hug to the driver. Ah, so he has connections. You watch the two interact from your corner, pulling up your hood to stop the rapidfire snowflakes from pelting your eyes. 

The driver is a classically handsome thing, dark eyes and dark fluffy hair. His paperbag pants look absolutely frigid however, and his teeth are chattering as he regards Jungkook with annoyed eyes. 

“Listen, so plans have changed—”

“As always, Kook.” 

“—and I need you to do me another solid. Do you have room in the compartment for my babies?” 

“The answer is, and always no. That’s why you bought two tickets.” 

“I know but,” he gestures to you with a jab of his thumb, “like I said, plans have changed.” 

“Jungkook,” Taehyung frowns, “trying to do some Christmas miracles? In this snowstorm?” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes flickering to the running bus. Most of the ticket holders are already on it. “I can save you two a three-seater, but there’s no room in the compartment. It’ll be a tight fight but—” 

“It’s perfect. You’re dynamite, Tae,” Jungkook even has the audacity to reach his hands out and squish the driver’s cheeks, much to his distain. 

The two of you are ushered quickly into the bus, leaving you in the very front diagonal to where Taehyung is sitting. The three seats are tiny, it probably barely fits Jungkook’s thighs with the large luggage nestled in the other two seats. The two of you suggest to put the luggage out in the aisle and take turns holding it, but Taehyung interjects that the luggage is a fire hazard. 

“But not a human,” Jungkook decides, and he gestures for you to sit down in the available seat. You’re practically shoved against the window as Jungkook manages to squeeze his gargantuan luggage in the other two seats. He’s tall enough to grab the metal rungs of the bus, steeling himself in the middle of the aisle.

Taehyung doesn’t fight with that, and finally puts the bus into drive. Pulling out of the airport feels akin to leaving the eye of the storm. It’s going to be a long journey, and it makes you worry as to whether you’re going to make it on time or not. 

Your favorite pastime is watching the window on a long car ride, especially when the snowflakes crystalize and melt away through the warmth of the vehicle. However, you’re irked. You thought Jungkook was a bit of a wank, a little too full of himself and far too mysterious for your own good. 

Exhibit A, the luggage that’s currently threatening to wheel over and crush you against the glass. You wonder what’s so special about this luggage that Jungkook so desperately wants to protect, even so far as to buy its own seat. Sneakily, you lean over to smell the zipper. Surprisingly, it smells a little vinegary, the fumes getting you a little lightheaded within seconds. Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Taehyung. You tilt your head and sniff again, confirming the slightly rancid smell. 

It’s then you take in Jungkook’s form once more. He dresses a little schlubby, his clothes are old, his eyes are sunken in, and his luggage is filled with weird-smelling things. 

Oh no. Is Jungkook a drug dealer? 

Your fiancé’s parents would surely have a fit if this man gets arrested and you come up in the report as an accused accomplice. It makes sense, he would want to make sure that his goods are in his view at all times, and it explains why he so easily gave you his ticket for triple the actual price. 

A giggle interrupts your thoughts. Yes, a tired, yet bubbly giggle. Jungkook’s face is pressed against his bicep, and you catch the fluttering of his eyes as he tries to keep up with Taehyung’s rambling. His grip is starting to loosen on the metal bars, and you’re worried that he might accidentally slip, or not hold tight enough in the event the car takes a sharp turn or slips on black ice. 

“J-Jungkook,” it’s the first time you’re saying his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue as you regard him steadily, “why don’t we take turns sitting? I don’t mind standing for an hour while you sleep.” 

He regards you with a sleepy smirk, shaking his head against the fabric of his jacket. “You’ll be flung in two seconds, besides can you even reach the handles?” 

Good point, but Jungkook is far more muscular and if he does end up flying he’ll crash through the window and further hinder your commute. It’s why you choose your next words carefully, and you convince yourself it’s the only reason as to why you propose your solution. 

“I’ll sit on your lap,” and since it sounds super weird coming out of your mouth, you tack on, “I’ll put your jacket over your lap as a barrier.” 

He slacks, regarding you with a scrunched face. “Is the jacket supposed to make that situation any better? I’m fine standing like this.” 

“This ride is going to take hours and you’re barely on your own two feet,” your point is made when the bus topples over a speed bump, and Jungkook looks awfully small as he moves to grapple the top bar with both hands, “my fiancé doesn’t get jealous, I’ve sat in plenty of friend’s laps before.” 

“We’re not friends,” he blurts with a raise of his brows.

“Yes, I know that,” you’re a little insulted by the curt reply, but he still looks rather horrified that you’re proposing the following, “I don’t like it either, but I’m sitting in your seat and now I’m feeling guilty as hell.” 

It’s a lot of shuffling and shifting after that. You try not to laugh as Jungkook rips off his leather jacket, folding it into a perfect square, ironing out the corners of the crinkly fabric as he gestures for you to take a seat. You try not to take note of how sturdy his thighs are, or how the muscle stretches across the seat so well that there’s no way for you to fall between the cracks. 

“You’re going to sleep anyway,” you try to assure him, side eying him as he presses his forehead against the window, “it’ll be like being with a dead body.” 

“Didn’t know you were into necrophilia, but whatever floats your boat,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes immediately fluttering shut. 

At first it was easy, ignoring the fact that you’re sitting on top of a human. The drive seems endless however, Taehyung driving further and further into a sea of white ice. You force yourself to thread your fingers together, sitting on the very edge of his knees with your back ramrod straight. Eventually, you tire out and relax against Jungkook’s lax body. Your face is centimeters away from Jungkook’s. Long, dark lashes, and a strand of equally dark hair falls in front of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from the blaring heater, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. 

Hm, for a drug dealer, he smells pretty. 

Despite the weird-smelling luggage that looms over the two of you, the white long-sleeved shirt he wears is soft to the touch and smells fresh. 

You huff, and shift in your seat. 

“Stop,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, and you don’t have the heart to look at him. 

“I’m sorry, it’s cramped,” you reply. 

“I get that, but you don’t have to—hike yourself so far up here,” he sounds almost embarrassed saying it, and his hand shuffles to adjust his belt. “Literally can’t sleep because you’re making me pop a boner.” 

“Why, I’m engaged!” 

“God, I know. It’s like your personality trait or something,” Jungkook retorts, “just because you’re engaged doesn’t stop my body from reacting. I’m sure your fiancé has reacted like this, stop acting like a blushing virgin.” 

You tense, your eyes glued to the window in front of you. How do you even make a comeback to that? Wringing your hands in your lap, you feel your palms sweat with nerves the longer it takes for you to reply. This causes the gears to run in Jungkook’s mind. 

“Holy fuck, have you two not—” 

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning your body around to slap him in the chest, “shut up shut upupupshutup!” 

You make seething, burning eye contact with Jungkook. You expect him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, teasing you for your relationship. Instead, Jungkook is wide-eyed, mouth parted open like a confused guppy and his big bug-eyes looking stricken. He says nothing. 

The road starts to get bumpier, and the drive swerves from time to time to avoid black ice. Neither of you are relaxed. Combined with the heart of the storm, your heart is currently wrung on electrical wire, pumping blood with a fervor you cannot stifle. 

“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” Jungkook murmurs softly, and you lift your arms slightly to see him lace his fingers over your belly button. “Like a seatbelt.” 

You sigh, relaxing in his hold. Now it’s awkward. He feels compelled to hold you to keep you safe, even though he clearly finds it awkward you’ve already put him in this position. 

Jungkook isn’t so bad, you think as you let your gaze linger on his hands. They anchor you to his lap, making sure you’re not jostling during the ride. He may have a razor sharp tongue and gets under your nerves just for the heck of it, but he’s kind of nice. Under the prickly leather jacket, there’s a softness to him you can’t help but gravitate to. 

It’s dark outside, save for the speedily descending flakes and the dim lights of the highway. You’re sitting on the lap of a total stranger, yet it’s a stranger who’s holding your waist like he’s a seatbelt, a stranger who’s making you feel safe to say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months. 

“I’ve tried to initiate sex,” you finally say. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me, it’s already been two years.” 

Your eyes turn red with bloody horror. Your vision blurred by the insanity of what you’ve just blurted out to this surprisingly kind stranger who’s offered his seat (both times) to you. 

“I didn’t mean to word vomit like that. Forget I said anything—” 

“Must be his loss,” Jungkook cuts you off, and when he says it doesn’t feel impolite at all. However, Jungkook doesn’t continue on, doesn’t give you rhyme or reason, just lets you linger on his reply like a madwoman. 

Maybe it’s because you’re so touch starved, maybe you’re just seeing things, but for some reason Jungkook’s fingers feel more apparent against the seam of your jacket. They tighten a fraction, drum around the metal zipper that holds the thick fabric together. Your palms feel like a fountain, and you try to ignore the burn between your legs, the liquid heat betraying the commitment that sits on your finger. 

You’re engaged to be married, you chastise yourself. All eighteen carats that symbolize that bond glare at you, bright and eager to make you feel guilty. The whole reason why you’re on this cramped bus ride is to get to your soon-to-be husband. Some pretty stranger with strong hands won’t change that. 

“We’re here! Finally!” Taehyung cheers, and you realize now that you’re parked into a tunnel surrounded by other buses. 

Jungkook and you wait until everyone steps off the bus. The pads of Jungkook’s fingers play an unsung tune, absentmindedly drumming to a song you can’t put your mind to. 

“God, you can’t just pay the extra money for someone to take care of this?” Taehyung hauls the large luggage in the aisle seat, and you feel like you’re being revealed under a curtain, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. 

You hop off his lap, scoop your backpack in your arm and scramble off the bus. The cold, winter air bites into every available pore in your body, replacing the warmth that Jungkook gave in the tiny bus. You hike the collar of your oversized turtleneck higher up your chin, prickling in shivers as you wait for Jungkook. 

“I don’t remember Seoul being this, empty,” you say to yourself, frowning at the lack of humans past the bus station. You peer curiously at the dark, dark road off the terminal. There’s no flicker of light, or a skyline filled with bustling sounds and flickering head beams. 

“That’s because we’re only halfway there,” Jungkook walks past you, luggage in tow. 

“What?” you pull out your phone, it’s already 4PM and it’s pitch dark outside. 

The snow is beating down as you two speed walk out of the hangar, reaching a nearly vacant parking lot save for a pure white minivan. You barely notice the vehicle with all the snow, blending in perfectly as wave after wave of ice beats down on it. The pops of rust by the tires, gaudy orange stripes is the only thing you can focus on as you try to make it to the car as fast as possible. 

“Get in and start the car,” Jungkook practically shoves the keys in your hands, gesturing for you to take the passenger seat. 

When you enter his car, you’re hit with a scent scarily identical to the one in Jungkook’s luggage. You nearly gag when you inhale too much, and your eyes flicker over to the lemon air freshener attached to the exhaust, trying its best to mask the smell. You vaguely remember all the warning stories your parents told you as a kid—never enter the white van. 

Ohmygod, you’re in a white van and all of Jungkook’s drugs are in the back. 

You shake your head, willing the car to start as you arch your back over the console to start it up. You’ve been around your fiancé’s parents too long, letting them fill your head with judgemental gab and crazy assumptions only rich people have about people lesser than them. 

Once the car spurs to life, soft holiday music plays from a pop station. The front window of the car is absolutely covered in snow, you can’t even budge the windshield wipers to scrape the layer of ice off. 

Suddenly, a blanket of ice slides off the window, swept to the concrete. You’re met with Jungkook’s toothy smile and horror-esque stare, and you have this jerk reaction to nervously laugh and jump in your seat. Your nails dig into the cheap fabric of your seat as Jungkook’s scary expression melts into a more softened one, as if happy to have gotten you to laugh in such sucky times. Jungkook continues to brush your windows, meticulously making sure no ice can cause any damage as you two go into the night. 

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Jungkook whips the door open, throwing the snow brush at the space between your feet. 

As soon as he shuts the door, your stomachs growl simultaneously. 

The two of you break into a quick laugh, giggles that overlap the twinkly holiday chimes and the packed snow crunching under Jungkook’s boots. 

“After McDonalds,” Jungkook declares, setting up the GPS for a quick pitstop to the nearest fast food joint. 

Ten minutes into the drive, you pull into a generic food joint, too starved to find gourmet McDonalds. You make it a point to flick your card and lean over his body to meet the cashier, telling him you’re spotting the meal. Jungkook doesn’t complain, and tells the cashier to add in a vanilla sundae for good measure. 

Color yourself impressed, but you can’t help but gawk as Jungkook expertly sets up his food on the dashboard like a five-star meal, with fries in the cupholder and a burger unwrapped perfectly to catch any spills and to keep his fingers from getting greased up. For such a terrible snowstorm, he pulls out of the joint gracefully, a brief intermission in your long journey. 

“So, is my fiancé’s place far from where you need to be?” 

Jungkook shrugs, a stray fry hanging from his mouth. “It’s not far, not close either. I don’t mind, I like driving.” 

“Do you drive around a lot?” 

“Yeah, for work. It’s a little annoying that I have to spend Christmas alone, but it is what it is.” 

Pausing on your speculation, you take a big bite of your burger. You were hoping that your conversation would spur on a little more detail about his drug-esque job. However, all you start to feel is the heaviness of your fast food meal, stemming from your chest and filling your grease-filled stomach. 

“You’re spending Christmas alone?” you say, and you don’t mean to sound so sad saying it, but the thought of him being alone tonight makes you feel pinched with pain. 

“I can practically feel your puppy-eyes,” Jungkook shakes his head, not even needing to look at you as he focuses on the road. “I’m fine, don’t you worry.” 

“Do you wanna come to the party?” you offer, trying to sound as neutral as possible as you throw the suggestion on the dash.

“Not my thing,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “with my line of work, I prefer to lay low.” 

Trying not to feel a hurt by the sudden (but expected) rejection, you practically eat your burger whole, eyes glaring on the road. You surmise it’s a valid excuse, drug dealers aren’t exactly one for highly-populated areas and with your fiancé’s reputation, you’re sure his parents would smell Jungkook’s reputation in a micro-minute. 

The drive isn’t anything special. You’re sure if it were spring, the foliage would be pretty and the sun would be setting into melty orange hues by now. It’s all black and white, boring shades that are aggressively pelting at the van and hindering your evening. 

“So, what other character traits do you have?” Jungkook cuts through your semi-brooding, as easily as one slices through butter, “other than the obvious that you’re engaged, and that you’re getting married. And oh yeah, you have a fiancé!” 

You scoff at his cheesy joke, folding your arms together. “I like spending time with my family. Watching movies under a weighted blanket. Plants.” 

His stare dips away from the road for a fraction, enough for you to catch that he’s rolling his eyes, “Fascinating. Not a plant person myself. I like those cute little succulents though. Had a bunch of those in college.��� 

“I am also a ramen connoisseur,” you say pointedly, turning up your nose. 

“Ah, are you?” you smile a little when you see Jungkook’s eyes light up at the mention of food, “what’s the criteria for good ramen?” 

“Deep, creamy broth. Also, the egg. Gotta look like a custard-y, eggy sunset. It’s just,” you smack your lips together, mimicking a chef’s kiss, “perfect.” 

He chuckles, and goes on to tell you a story about a ramen shop he’s visited on his travels. It’s one he declares that you need to visit, one he still dreams about often. It takes a ferry and it’s a bit of a trek, but he says it’s worth it, and the eggs are as custard-y and sunset-y as you’d like. 

It’s between pockets of his story and pulling yourself out of this little bubble of a van you realize:  are you flirting with Jungkook? 

The longer this trip goes, the more your stares linger. They linger like the snow that sticks to the ground, unable to do nothing but cling. Layer after layer of confusing feelings, building up to a blizzard that you’re unable to quell. 

“So, your family’s also going to be at your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook asks, poking at yet another one of your personal facets. He’s being blatantly nosy, yet neither of you seem to mind. 

“Oh, no,” you shove your hands in your pockets, “they wanted to stay back in our hometown with the extended family. Y’know, the older members can’t really travel as much as they used to.” 

“Ah, so you’re splitting up your time,” Jungkook drums his hands on the wheel, eyes drooped slightly as he continues along the monotonous road, “your fiancé couldn’t make it?” 

“Couldn’t,” you reply lightly, “just, y’know, work.” 

“Been there, done that,” Jungkook replies, “I’m sure he missed out though. What’s your family like? Are they the type to bake cookies until 3 A.M.? Oh, or do they get wine drunk and talk shit about their annoying cousins—” 

“Jungkook,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even think, “I’m engaged.” 

The weight of your words holds differently now. A whole day has passed with this man, and you’ve developed an attachment that simultaneously scares and thrills you. Not an hour goes by that you have to think to yourself that you’re taken, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s in your head and what’s being spoken out in the air. 

Instead of a snippy comment, a snarky retort of, “I know, I know!” like you anticipate, Jungkook stops the car. 

There’s no human trace for miles, so it doesn’t scare you when he slows down and pulls off to the side. He gears the car into park, roughly pulling the handle. He lays his arm over the steering wheel, turning his body so he can face you fully. The heat in the car suddenly feels too cloying, and you shrink in the seat as he leans in on you. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, and from the looks of it, he’s genuinely hurt. 

“I—Jungkook,” you plant your feet on the ground, trying to find some power in this situation, “I mean I, we—you just can’t keep doing this.” 

“Do you feel like I’m trying to steal you away? Or, seduce you or something?” Jungkook is starting to talk himself into a stupor, eyes flickering from the window, to you, to behind you, and back to you. It’s almost jarring, seeing how self-conscious he starts to get without the presence of an audience. Gone is the smooth talker that you met at the terminal, willing to haggle it all for your cash. “Are you uncomfortable? Is it weird I have a crush on you?” 

“Wait, you have a crush on me?” 

He reels back, nearly pressing his head against the window. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deep from his lungs. “Adults still get crushes, y’know.” 

“Yeah, but not to people you met eight hours ago.” 

Jungkook arches a brow, “People fall for people in the most unlikely of ways.” 

That singular statement hits you, hard. 

Jungkook looks like he wants to get out of the van. He seems stuffy, and he unzips his coat and shoves it under his legs. 

“You’re cute,” he echoes the statement like he can’t believe that in a short amount of time, he’s attached to you, “you seem to have good taste, you love family, and your personality isn’t half bad,” the last bit is meant to be teasing, a lighthearted way to end his bout of emotion, but it only makes you ache further, “And it makes me upset knowing that you have to keep convincing yourself that you’re in a relationship that isn’t as fulfilling as you hope. This whole drive, you’ve been anxious about going to his parents, worrying that you’re not going to make it on time instead of relaxing with your family. Where you actually want to be.” 

“I also want to be with Jimin,” you say weakly, a half-hearted attempt to defend yourself. 

You never mentioned your fiancé’s name until this point. It makes Jungkook stiffen a little, finally putting a name to the man that’s supposed to have your heart. It makes the relationship concrete, palpable. 

“I’m sure you do,” Jungkook smacks his lips, evidently sealing the conversation to suffocate under the snow. 

Jungkook puts the car into drive, sliding back into your current route. 

“And to answer your question, Jungkook. No, you having a crush on me is not weird,” and smaller, quieter, you reply, “because it’s weird that I might have a crush on you, too.”

You know that Jungkook catches your statement, because he cranks the volume of the radio harder, effectively shutting you out.  

The first thing Jungkook says when you finally reach the Park’s house is: “Wow.” 

His van looks completely out of place, parked on the side as limos and Escalades drop off more and more people into the large estate. It’s pouring with elegant piano music, and the large window in the middle of their home reveals a century-old chandelier, crystals beaming and winking against the hundreds of guests that lie underneath. 

The rest of the way driving was almost painfully fast. After that awkward wave of emotion, neither of you said anything. Well, you didn’t at least. Jungkook attempted to clear the air by singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio, but it only further attracted you because to your chagrin—Jungkook’s a pretty good singer. 

The estate isn’t in Seoul persay, it’s a sizable plot of land that definitely comes from old money. It’s decked up like the North Pole, lit up and tiny crystal lines dotting the expanse of the rooftops. The snow certainly adds to it, and many guests are outside taking pictures of the picture-perfect holiday show. The blizzard has finally subsided, leaving a clean blanket of snow across their yard.

You scoff to yourself. What they find to be a Christmas miracle only derailed yours. 

Jungkook stares at you while you send a quick text to Jimin. You tell him he needs to come fast, because you don’t want his parents to see you all sweaty and dressed like you’ve been traveling for hours. 

“Oh, uh,” you finally take a look at him, and you immediately regret it because you’re getting sucked into his gaze, “I think you put my bag in the trunk?” 

“Right,” he shakes his head, “follow me.” 

He tilts his head down when he’s outside, as if the snow’s going to start back up and drown him. Your thumb scratches the ring on your finger as you hop out of the van, effectively popping the bubble the two of you have been sealed in for the better half of the evening. Is this going to be it? Is the last you’ll see of Jeon Jungkook? 

All those thoughts evaporate when Jungkook opens the trunk. 

There’s no drugs. 

In fact, you don’t even know what to think. The van is absolutely filled, wall-to-wall art supplies and canvas carefully lined up like Tetris blocks to avoid damage. The floor of the van seems to receive the brunt of the messes, and you catch recent paint stains and spray cans stacked to the side. It explains the smell. 

There’s some clear cases in a corner, protecting completed prints that are already framed. Your eyes cling to a vibrant hyacinth, coral and satin blue petals bunching in the middle of a black background. It’s absolutely gorgeous, if it wasn’t for all the paint lying around, you’d think it’s real. 

Jungkook’s an artist. 

“Holy shit, I thought you were a drug dealer,” you blurt, and you want to smack yourself in the face. 

 “Excuse me?” Jungkook jerks his head towards you, “did you think I was a drug dealer this whole time?” 

“N-no,” you frown petulantly, letting Jungkook loop your arms through the straps of your backpack. “Maybe. You were very shady.” 

He laughs, a genuine laugh. It confuses you, the way he tucks his hands in his pockets and bends his back over to look up at you through his dark lashes. It’s like nothing’s wrong, like he’s trying to erase the past eight hours and leave with no qualms. You don’t know if that comforts you or terrifies you. 

“So, you were willing to let a potentially dangerous man be your travel partner for eight hours so you can make it to your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the front door, “you must really love him.” 

“I do,” you say the phrase like it’s second nature. Rehearsed. Practiced. 

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook pulls out his hand, and you don’t hesitate to grasp it. 

Liquid heat sparks through your skin, one that tingles from where his large palm encases yours, all the way to your heart. 

“Merry Christmas,” you echo, and your feet feel like lead as you back away from him. 

Jungkook waits until you go inside the house, even though the valet is side eyeing him and mentally telling him to leave already. Turning your back to him is rough, like you’re without snowshoes and you’re trudging through snow. 

The goodbye feels rushed. Your heart is cold and heavy. Unfortunately, by the time you realize you haven’t paid Jungkook for his bus ticket and the ride, it’s too late. Jimin has already pulled you in his awaiting arms, and Jungkook has peeled out of the driveway. 

“You look awful,” Jimin coddles you, dusting the invisible dirt off your jacket. You know Jimin means well by the statement, but you can’t help but feel a little unsupported by his words. You did all you could to make it to Jimin in time for this party full of faceless, nameless people. And yet, Jimin inadvertently manages to put you down for finally making it. 

The hallway is relatively empty, save for one staff member who cleans the wet linoleum floors whenever someone with snow steps in. You can easily make out where the heart of the party is, the tinkly holiday music playing from the speakers, along with all the bodies huddled by the extra large Christmas tree that is brimming with presents. 

You do feel like a wet noodle, in comparison to Jimin and Namjoon’s complementary pinstripe suits. Jimin’s deep burgundy suit pops in the endless hallway of marble and light wood as he quickly leads you upstairs to a spare room for you to change. Namjoon’s more muted grey still looks stunning on him, cutting his tall figure nicely. You think it’s cute that Jimin made an effort to match with his assistant, not making him feel out of place in this big party. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon interjects softly, gesturing to the garment bag hanging on the boudoir, “I picked out your dress.” 

“I’m sure whatever you bought is beautiful,” you assure softly, stepping fully into the room. It’s an extra bedroom, you’re assuming it might be yours. 

“We’ll give you some time to freshen up and get ready,” Jimin squeezes your arm, a touch you can barely feel due to the puffiness of your down jacket. It’s just an awkward escape of air to you, a sssttt that you catch Namjoon hiding his smile for, “we’ll walk around a bit and bring you some food.” 

“I want cupcakes,” you blurt impulsively, and the two of them laugh on their way out the door. 

Once you’re finally alone, you strip yourself bare. Jacket, shirt, socks, underwear. You make quick work of taking a hot, damp towel to wash your arms and legs, scrubbing your face of any oil and dirt from the day. You wrap yourself in an indulgent fluffy robe, the plush material comforting you as you flop on the bed. 

It’s been a day. 

You take a five minute cat nap, the weight of the day taking its toll on you. When you finally flutter your eyes open however, you see him. 

It’s not exactly him, it’s his art. It’s mounted right atop the headboard, a large blown up painting of a tiger lily. The orange and gold flecks flicker and go perfectly with the decor of the room. The piece is longing, aching for you to go back to two hours ago when you could’ve phrased your words better, balm the situation into something to salvage. This must be a sign, you think. Upon closer look, you see the signature Jeon JK etched in silver in the corner. Who knew the Parks were buying Jeon Jungkook’s work, the world is smaller than you’d originally thought. 

It ignites you. You rip the zipper of the garment bag, pulling on the slinky glittery gold dress Namjoon picked out for you. It’s gorgeous, and you don’t know how he managed to find your proportions, but you figure an assistant of his caliber has access to many things. You don’t have much time, so you slap on some light makeup and swipe some highlights across your eyes. By the time Jimin returns, you’re pulling your hair up and out of your face. 

Jimin walks to the bed with a pretty red velvet cupcake, “You look beautiful,” he says immediately, and you follow to sit with him at the foot of the bed. 

You don’t hesitate to grab the cupcake from his tea plate, nearly shoving it in your mouth. You definitely need a rush, something to curb you over for the plans you have tonight. “Sugar sugar,” you chant like a mantra, and you don’t care that your lipgloss is smudged and crumbs cling to your cheeks. 

Jimin just rubs circles onto your thigh, letting you eat and relax. He knows you’re not a fan of these kinds of parties, preferring to wallflower it, preferably at  a wall closest to the buffet. His touch is comforting, and you chew slower in order to prolong the inevitable. It takes a beat for you to finish your cupcake. 

“I need to talk to you,” the two of you blurt at the same time, and you point and giggle at each other like you’re still five year olds tinkering in the sandbox. 

Jimin pouts, “Can I go first? Mine’s kind of important.” 

“Mine’s also really important,” you don’t mean to invalidate Jimin, but you really need to get this out. “I might explode if I don’t say this now.” 

The blonde scrunches his nose, obviously weak to your unusual distress, “I guess I wouldn’t want that.” 

You clutch his hand, the hand that holds the plain wedding band he picked out for himself two years ago. Your eyes flicker to how your ring kisses his, “Jimin. I love you, like really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you, you’ve been my best friend since we could crawl. But as I traveled down here, I realized that even though I love you, I think I’m not in love,” you wince at how cheesy that sounds, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough, but the whole trip down here made me realize I don’t think I can commit to this.” 

“Oh, thank fuck,” you gasp, watching relief wash over Jimin’s features. You’re not even done with your whole spiel and he’s already unbuttoning his blouse, “this makes what I’m about to say a whole lot easier.” 

“Jimin,” you trail off, squeezing his palm, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think I’m in love.” 

Your jaw slackens slightly, seeing the sweat that lines Jimin’s slicked back hair. He must’ve been thinking about this all night, waiting for you to tell you this. Your chest aches, weighing in on all the sudden facts. “Who is it?” you ask. 

Jimin shrugs, “The man who does my taxes and makes sure I sleep at least seven hours a night.” 

“Namjoon,” you conclude, eyes moving to the sealed door. You think Namjoon is waiting out there right now, silently supporting you two as you go through this. Of course, Jimin’s parents would be livid if anything would tarnish his reputation. A broken engagement would be sticky to cover up, and Jimin falling for his assistant is a headline right for the books. 

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, despite the room being vacant he feels the need to keep his words short, “You came all this way to hear this. But I guess we’re on the same page, huh?” His soft fingers make a beeline for your ring finger, removing the diamond band, “And by the way, I love you too. Which is why we’re going to come clean in the morning and work this out with my parents, together. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to follow me all this time just because our parents did.” 

“Hey, like you said, we’re in this together. Both in and out,” you chastise, pulling your engagement ring from his grasp and holding it to the light. “Can I keep this? Instead of an engagement band, it can be our best friend band. I’ll even get it re-sized so it can go on another finger.” 

Jimin pulls you into his arms, crushing you. The silky material of your dress bunches and rides, but you don’t care. The two of  you can’t help but be a little crybaby-ish about it, feeling much like your younger-selves when you had to pull each other out of trouble. 

The two of you walk out of the bedroom hand-in-hand, and Namjoon is leaning against the banister in the hallway, a soft smile melting on his tanned skin. 

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, hugging Namjoon tightly. You’ve only known the man for a few months, but you can tell he’s taking care of Jimin and that’s enough for you. 

“I… really thought you’d be more upset.” Namjoon marvels, patting your back. 

Jimin interjects, “I think she’s found someone hotter than me.” 

“Impossible!” 

You could stay at this party, lay low until you and Jimin have to confront his parents in the morning. They suggest to get all the food they need and sneak out to the home theatre. The three of you hustle it down the stairs to another part of the house, in order for you to make your getaway and avoid Jimin’s family. 

“Hey,” you stop in front of another painting, pulling the two men to a stop. Your eyes lock on a framed droopy peony, tipped with pink dye. You realize you can’t stay here, not when someone’s home alone tonight. “Namjoon, I need you to locate someone for me.” 

Jungkook does not expect to see you at his front door. 

You’re stunning, and look as breathless as he feels. The liquid champagne number that hugs your frame does things to him, and he’s strangely attracted to the fact that you paired this expensive dress with your snow-drenched trainers. 

You showing up at the wee hours of the morning was the last thing Jungkook thought would happen. It’s nothing short of a holiday event, you look like you’ve just walked out of a gala and then ran a marathon to reach him. 

He thought when he said goodbye, it would be the last time you’d cross paths. At first, he was okay with that. After all, feelings come and go, and spontaneity only works a percentage of the time. Seeing you presently however, throws all those half-hearted concedings out the window. 

“Hi,” you finally say, drinking from the fact that you actually found him. 

“Hey,” Jungkook breathes, “you look, beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” you smile. 

“So, is this about you not paying me back for the ticket?” Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, having dipped out of Jimin’s manor once he saw him appear at the door. It was unrightful jealousy, and because of that he needed to drive away as fast as possible. “Because honestly, it was me messing with you. I really don’t need the money.” 

“I figured, from the fact that I had to take the elevator up to the penthouse of the building.” 

“So then why are you here?” Jungkook wobbles on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“My ex-fiancé is in love with someone else,” you lay your cards out just like that, and Jungkook’s unprepared to deal.  

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry—” 

“Let me finish,” you cut in gently, “my ex-fiancé is in love with someone else, and that’s okay. We’ve been best friends since we were little, and we want nothing but happiness for each other. And for me? Happiness is right in front of me.” 

You bite your lip, and Jungkook fights down the urge to run up and pull you into his arms. You must be so cold, running out without a jacket and rushing to his home. However, he lets you finish, and he holds himself down by clutching the door frame as casually as possible. 

“I also have a big, fat crush on you,” you say boldly, “and I had to tell you as soon as I could. It took a twenty-minute phone call and some serious leverage from Jimin’s company to figure out where you lived. That receptionist is definitely not letting me use my frequent flyer miles next flight.” 

“You harassed an airport receptionist just for me?” he smiles wanly, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m touched.” 

“You make me excited to try new things, to be spontaneous and do things for myself,” with every statement you take a step further, and soon enough you’re in his dimly lit apartment. The plush couch in his living room looks awfully warm and comfy, and the light music that plays from his speakers is soft and soothing. “So, let’s spend the holidays together and see where this goes. And go to your art gallery tomorrow, because I did research you on the drive and found out you had to rush here because of a big show.” 

“So you’re actually a stalker?” Jungkook teases, tugging you over to the couch. 

He takes the lead, plopping himself on the couch first and inviting you to sit next to him. You take a detour and plant your body atop of him, and with an ‘oof’ the two of you are sinking. 

“A stalker and a potential drug dealer does sound like a promising pair,” Jungkook jests, his hand palming the silky material of your ruched up ball gown. 

“I’m sorry,” you pout, wrapping your fingers around the long tresses of his hair, “can you please stop bringing that up? It was judgemental of me.” 

“I like when you’re judgemental,” he pokes your puppy-faced cheeks, ruddied with embarrassment. “I like picking fights with you and getting you all riled up.” 

“Will you rile me up now?” 

Sexy, he thinks. He figures a vixen has been hidden under you, one suppressed by a complicated engagement and many other factors he’d love to learn about in the near future. The situation at hand however, is far more pressing. Your body is finally warming up, and Jungkook tries to ignore the weight your body is causing, re-igniting an ache he felt hours ago when you two were squished against each other in the coach bus.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you declare, and you look a little frustrated that Jungkook is taking so long to process this information, “and I hope I take your breath away.” 

You taste like sugar and the softness that comes with the holidays. It’s tender and oh-so comforting, and Jungkook can’t help but squeeze your hips closer as your lips brush fervently against his. The feeling is both new and old, and Jungkook figures you’ve finally uncoiled a flame that you can no longer quell. 

Soon enough your kisses turn hungry, and Jungkook has to remind himself that you two have only known each other for a total of twelve hours, and he isn’t sure of what’s appropriate to jump to due to the speed of your relationship. Once he feels the first roll of your hips, a liquid heat that Jungkook can’t help but return back, he pulls away from your soft lips. Not too far, but a few centimeters apart so that Jungkook and you can catch your breath. 

“We should take this slow,” he starts, trying to make a reasonable impression now that you’re a guest at his home and finally settled from their long trip. “I really, really want to get to know you. And you’re so beautiful and I really do want to have sex but—” 

“Jungkook, I have not had sex with someone in two years,” you speak with a depraved tone, as if it’s been centuries since you’ve been touched. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh, “a night full of sex sounds like the best last-minute present ever.” 

You bring his hand over to your core, the shiny glassy material of your gown doing nothing to hide the glimpses of pleasure you’re minutes away from experiencing. You whine desperately at the thought, and Jungkook’s a goner. 

“Well, I guess I’m about to pull a Christmas miracle,” he murmurs against your lips, ready to work his magic. 

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

For BTHB... wound that would not heal with a supervillian? (Not the one from drowning. That poor guy has suffered enough). And maybe a hero or civilian caretaker?

Circle for completed, heart for requested

Hmmmm I disagree about that. I actually want to post Part 11 of Drowning, but I am trying to finish requests first. Comfort is my favorite part, so I want to write him out of torture sooo bad.

Anyways, thank you for the ask and because you asked for a hero or a civilian caretaker, you get both.

One Month

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: fainting, death mention, painful wound cleaning, jealousy

~

Supervillain walked stiffly out of the grocery store, clutching at his plastic bag. Every movement, every step, sent a wave of pain through his body and to his head where it condensed. He groaned, trying to ignore his splitting headache.

"Hey Supervillain!"

Supervillain stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. He recognized that voice and really did not want to have to deal with it right now.

"Supervillain?" The voice spoke again, closer this time, but still oddly far away. Not that it was in his vicinity either- very distant and probably an hallucination. Or, he thought that until a hand clasped his shoulder.

Supervillain jumped, turning around sharply and nearly falling over. In his face was a very concerned Hero.

"Hey bro, you good?" Hero asked, his lips upturned in a genuinely worried smile.

"Yeah, yeah fine," Supervillain replied, adjusting his feet so he wouldn't sway- not that it helped. "Just scared me," he said, ducking his head and proceeding to walk away.

But Hero's hand stopped him. "I wanted to say thank you," he said. "For saving my girl. You didn't have to."

Supervillain was taken aback. Yes, about a month ago he saved Hero's girlfriend from another villain by taking a bullet. It penetrated his back and never exactly healed.

"Just a professional courtesy," Supervillain shrugged. "And anyway I may need her to, you know, kidnap her and use her to get info out of you."

Gosh, why wasn't he thinking straight? He shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have said that.

Hero face fell, but into an expression of joking. He lightly punched Supervillain's biceps.

Supervillain swayed, completely thrown off balance as a rushing feeling ran through his head. Gosh, he needed to sit down, but definitely not in front of Hero.

"Bro, come on. I know that wasn't the real reason. You don't need to play tough guy. C'mere." Hero pulled Supervillain into a classic bro hug, patting his back roughly- not that a supervillain couldn't take a little pounding.

But it made Supervillain feel sick, oh so sick. He fell forward into the embrace, put used a good portion of his limited energy to pull himself back up.

"You good man? You look pale," Hero inquired, stepping back from Supervillain.

Supervillain nearly threw up from the dizziness and lack of support. No, bud, get a hold of yourself.

Supervillain walked three steps before he keeled forward, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

《~~》

"He's waking up," Hero said, as he supported Supervillain in the tub. Civilian looked up from her delicate work of bathing and frowned.

"Well now he's gonna feel all of his," she monotoned, as she spooned water into the gaping, pussy wound on his back.

Hero mumbled something in reply and draped Supervillain's still-limp upper body over the side of the tub, stood up and stretched. "I'll go get him something," he said and walked away, leaving his girlfriend with the supervillain who was slowly regaining consciousness.

Civilian examined the wound, shuddering as she realized that she would have had that wound in her head. But of course, she wouldn't feel feeling the pain of it for she would be six feet in the ground.

The wound was literally crocheted with pieces of thin sewing thread. Pieces of black string stuck in and out of it, some seemed to be ingrown. The pain would be astronomical, granted Supervillain was able to stay awake for the procedure.

Hero returned with two white pills. He guided them into Supervillain's loosely dangling mouth, tilted his head back, and dumped some water. The supervillain seemed to ignore the next step, but eventually swallowed due to the nagging instinctual urge.

"Ibuprofen won't cut it," Civilian pointed out. "I need tweezers."

"They're the only thing we have." Hero gave Civilian a pair of tweezers. She twirled them between her fingers before angling them to the wound.

"Of course since I used all the good stuff on you," Civilian growled, eyes piercing and eyebrows furrowing as she concentrated. She pinched one of the threads and pulled. It was short, but frayed, signaling that the rest was still imbedded in.

The next one gave some resistance. Supervillain groaned, moving around in the tub, arms aimlessly flopping around.

"Hold his shoulders still," Civilian ordered, gaze remaining steady on her work. "The bullet shattered a couple ribs and possibly cracked a vertebrae." She squinted looking closer, "A bit of the bullet is still in there."

"Can you remove it?" Hero asked, positioning himself to pin Supervillain's upper body. The injured man whimpered and writhed, silently sobbing.

"Of course I can. I did surgery on your collarbone before remember?"

"Duh," Hero replied, shaking his head at the agonizing memory.

Civilian worked on the wound as Supervillain screamed and begged for it to stop. It took five hours to remove each and every thread, the deeply imbedded bullet, and to make sure the broken ribs weren't doing any damage to the rest of his body. They weren't, thankfully.

"Okay," Civilian sighed, wrapping the injury in gauze and bandages. "Bring him to my bed."

Hero pulled Supervillain's body out of the tub and laid him on the floor. Next, they both wrapped their ward in a thick bathrobe.

"Okay," Civilian sighed rubbing her eyes. Hero wrapped his arm around her shoulder and leaned his head on her's, kissing it gently.

Supervillain was asleep on Civilian's bed, all sprawled out on his stomach. He clutched the blankets every once in a while, breath hitching.

Hero slept on a nearby armchair, out immediately. Civilian took longer to fall asleep, watching Hero and Supervillain as they drooled.

Eventually, she also fell asleep, soothed by the raspy breaths of her boyfriend and newfound patient.

《~~》

Supervillain came to very slowly, dozing off here and there. Or he thought he did. He realized something wasn't right and his brain was not functioning correctly.

He started to vaguely come aware of his surroundings- the porridge in his mouth, the soft whispers, the cooling ointment on his back- until they all filled into one big painting.

He was being cared for and all that waited was to open his eyes to see who.

So one day, he mustered the will to pry his leaden eyelids open and look around. A girl's face was hovering disgustingly close to his, so close that her warm breath brushed against his cheek.

"Hey buddy," she whispered, rubbing her hand at his hair. "Finally decided to wake up, huh?"

Supervillain stiffly nodded, fingers tapping against the bed.

"What happened?" He asked.

"We saved you," Hero grumbled. Supervillain turned to see the ragged and angry looking man reclining on an armchair.

"Oh," Supervillain whispered.

"You were suffering that wound for weeks," Civilian hummed. "It's a miracle you aren't dead."

"Yeah," Supervillain breathed, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. They dropped just as Civilian walked out of the room.

"You are going to pay for taking Civilian away from me," Hero growled just as sleep consumed Supervillain.

#bad things happen bingo #hero caretaker #civilian caretaker #villain x civilian #heros and villains #supervillain whumpee

[mizunetzu]

You said you wanted iida requests especially with a male s/o so could you do Iida and his bf watching horror movies? Thank you! and i loved your other iida one :))

Ahhhh the Iida dudeeeeee-bro I had so much fun writing this-

I also aspire to have iidareaders reblog my post LMAOO

(A/n: this takes place before the stain attack, so tensei still has working legs LMAO. I had to put mr ingenium in here somewhere)

——————

Iida x reader - Movie Night

⚠️ Warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“No.”

“Come on, Iida!” (Y/n) jabbed his boyfriend in his chest, even though he knew he wouldn’t budge. The engine legged boy simply crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave another curt “no”

“Why nooooot!” (Y/n) tugged on his sleeves, practically leaning off the other male. Iida hid his forming blush through his glasses. “I am not very fond of the horror genre, (L/n)-kun. I believe it is very unentertaining when you’re too startled to even glance at the scre-“

“So you won’t watch with me because you’re scared?” The taller boy choked on his orange juice. “No I am not! I..I simply believe it is a childish genre of movie-“

“Tenya, pleaaaaase?” (Y/n) stood up from his chair and slammed his hands down on the table ever-so-gently. “(L-L/n)-kun, please lower your voice we are in a cafeteria.”

“Tenyaaaaa,” oh the things he does to this mans heart. Use his first name one more time and he’ll light up like a Christmas tree.

“Can we watch one just this once? I already bought the movie, and I really, really, really wanted to watch it with you!” (Y/n) sat back down, but not before booring his gaze into iidas glasses. He shifted uncomfortably, before regaining his posture and sitting up straight again.

He didn’t want to watch it, but having his boyfriend cling to his arm and be so irritatingly cute was messing with his voice of reason. He hiked his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “...if it’ll satisfy you, then alright...”

(Y/n) let go with a victory yelp, and pumped his fist in the air. “I promise you won’t regret it, dude! I’ll meet you at your house at six!”

“Did-did you just call me, your significant other, dude?”

————

(Y/n) walked to the gates of the Iida estate with a satisfied hum gracing his features. He gave a polite nod to the security guard on duty, who in return opened the gate.

“Say hi to mrs Iida for me, Kid.” The guard waved from his post. (Y/n) nodded once again.

He walked through the all too familiar pathway leading up to the Iida estate, clutching a plastic bag with a dvd inside. He glanced over his bag once more before buzzing the doorbell attached to the wall.

Soon after, a man with similar hair and eyebrows answered the door, eyes crinkling at the corners in form of a smile.

“(L/n), yo! I didn’t know you were coming over today.” (Y/n) chuckled and swung the bag over his shoulders. “Is Tenya inside?”

That man was Iida Tensei, Tenyas older brother and pro hero Ingenium. (Y/n) had no idea why he was here, as he should be working at his agency or at least at his own house. Not that it bothered him, no.

Tensei made way for (y/n) to step inside, whilst he turned his head and cupped his mouth. “Tenya, your boyfriends here!”

Immediately, a pair of thick set engine legs came flying down the stairs. “H-He’s not my boyfriend, Tensei! It is rude to consider one of my closest friends as my significant other!”

Oh, you poor, closeted, fool.

Tensei let out a breathy laugh and apologized half heartedly. Iida made a beeline towards (y/n), grabbing his hand and dragging him further into the house. Tensei clicked his tongue.

“Don’t be rude, Tenya! Greet your ‘friend’ properly!”

“Yeah, Teeeeenya. You hurt my feelings-I want a hug~”

(Y/n) outstretched his arms towards the flustered boy. Shaking from humiliation, Iida robotically wrapped his arms around (y/n), before marching off into the living room area. Tensei’s chuckles and a “have fun with your movie, guys,” could be heard as Iida dragged (y/n) towards the living room.

Iida plopped down on the couch with a sigh. “So...may I know what movie we are watching?”

(Y/n’s) eyes gleamed, as he reached into his plastic bag. He pulled out his dvd copy of a recent horror movie with a determined smile. Iida gulped audibly.

“I’ll...go pop some popcorn...” Iida croaked, lips curving up in a pathetic smile.

————

To say that Iida was scared was an understatement.

They were already midway through the movie, (y/n’s) eyes glued to the screen and absentmindedly chucking popcorn in his mouth, while Iida was practically drenched in sweat. Iida was brought out of his trance when a loud noise flashed on screen, making him flinch and grab onto the sleeve of (y/n’s) shirt. (Y/n) stopped chucking kernels into his mouth and turned towards his trembling boyfriend.

“Tenya...dude..-“

“iM FINE!” Iidas voice cracked midway through, making (y/n) stifle a snicker in between his palms. He paused the movie and shifted so his body was facing iidas. “You suuuuure you aren’t scared? You gonna be a big boy?”

“(Y/n)-“

Iidas statement was interrupted when the lights went out, the only thing illuminating the scene being the low light of the tv screen. The two boys snapped closer to eachother, startled, before relaxing.

Iida grabbed his phone from the table and turned on his flashlight. They both were already on edge because of the movie, so they had to be alert in case someone broke into the Iida family residence. That or the lights just y’know...stopped working. All throughout the living room.

Iida whipped his phone flashlight over to when (y/n) was now standing, the sudden light making the smaller boy flinch.

“Jeez, don’t point that in my eyes...Tenya?” Iidas face paled when he saw a taller, dark figure standing behind (y/n). “Tenya? Hey-what’s wro-“

The figure grasped (y/n’s) shoulder harshly, making the two boys flinch animatedly. They both went silent. (Y/n) shakily turned his head around, Iida following the man with his phone’s flashlight.

There stood a man wearing all black, accompanied by a white and red kabuki mask. He held a kitchen knife in his free hand, with a pocket for said knife wrapped around his waist in form of a belt. Even if Iida and (y/n) were aspiring pro heroes, they were frozen in fear, like a deer in the headlights of a tow truck.

The man lurched forward, with a battle cry, making (y/n) and Iida stumble back. (Y/n) fell on his butt, whilst Iida accidentally activated his engines, causing his legs to sweep from under him and do an odd flip thing. They both screamed, iidas being unusually high, while the man laughed manically. There was something so famillar about that voice, but they couldn’t quite place it. Iida stumbled infront of (y/n) and covered him with his back, so he was still facing the man.

They both screwed their eyes shut until the lights flickered back on, with the sound of heels clinking in the doorway.

The two kids and the man stopped in their tracks as Mrs Iida clicked her tongue and crossed her arms disappointedly.

“Tensei, stop being so cruel to them. Look-they look like their about to cry! And put that knife away, don’t you have some paperwork to do?”

The two boys on the ground looked at her in confusion as the mans maniacal laughter turned into a hearty, booming chortle. Tensei unclasped the mask from behind him, tugging it off and shaking his head around. The older Iida sibling continued to laugh as he looked at his brother and (y/n’s) confused, and embarrassed, expressions.

“T-tensei!” They called out in unison, Tenyas voice more prominent as he swung and chopped and the air.

“That was uncalled for! Wha-what if something bad had really happened?!”

“Aw-dont be such a wet blanket, Tenya. Look-even your boyfriends laughing.”

Tenya looked behind him, and sure enough, (y/n) was chuckling and clutching his stomach. Tenya fought back the blush creeping up his face as he chopped at his laughing brother.

“HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!”

“Whatever you say, tenya.”

——————

#iida imagine #iida x reader #iida headcanons #iida tensei #iida x male reader #iida tenya #boku no hero academia tenya #tenya imagine #tenya iida #bnha x male reader #bnha iida #mha iida #mha fanfiction #bnha fic

[ninjakasuga]

Sonally Celebration Week! Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Day six, and admittedly the toughest piece to write since well, action scenes require more finesse than a domestic/slice of life story. The journey continues, and since my main focus mostly centers on Sonic and Sally’s post Robotnik/Eggman war peace time lives, I like to flex different events when the prompts give way to good inspiration. When one has to do with rescuing, well, let’s just say, if you’re dumb enough to harm someone’s children, woe comes to you in waves.

Day Six: Rescue.

It was supposed to have been a nice, pleasant day. Go to Spagonia with your big bro and his wife, enjoy flying in a fancy transport ship. While Sonic and Sally do the diplomatic thing, Sonia and Manic would watch J.C. and Kathy as they got to enjoy the city. See the sights, enjoy some ice cream and crepes from the city vendors, and just have a good old time! However, it wasn’t to last, the day was ruined when the sound of their ‘secret tail’ security guards crying out after being, well truthfully Sonia didn’t get to hear what exactly happened to their bodyguards (she hoped they were alive). All she heard was some muffled noise; some people screaming, and suddenly a van rolled up, and people in masks and jumpsuits grabbed and knocked them all out.

After coming too, she woke up to a bag over her head, only to have it torn off, and bright lights flashing in her face. A camera was aimed at them as some jerkoff using a voice-modulating helmet to obscure his identity was making some long list of demands and basically laid out they were collateral if those demands were not met. She tried to make everything out, but she was still groggy from waking up from whatever they used to knock her out. Manic was no better when she asked him if he gleaned anything she missed, sadly he was as groggy as she had been. She knew better than to ask the kids, clearly the six-year-olds were ‘terrified’ and wanted nothing more than to go home and jump into their parents arms.

Hell, the sixteen year old herself wanted to hug her parents just as badly. After that song and dance with the camera, all four were dragged to this cell of sorts, and left there with a guard detail. Whatever they wanted, they seemed to be serious, or at least wanted to come off that way. Her keen eye noticed some of their guards seemed unsettled. Like they were not keen they had kidnapped children. Maybe she, or Manic could use that? A little of the ol’ duo-charm to-.

“Auntie Sonia?” The small, childish voice snapped the older hedgehog out of her thoughts. Instantly her head snapped to the small child resting in her lap.

Forcing a calm smile, Sonia gently petted Kathleen’s soft auburn hair, which had blue tips at the end. Many thought it was dyed, but it was merely something that seemed to happen to both children, who inherited their Mother’s auburn tresses. Yet at the tips, bits of blue would form over time. No doubt the stubbornness of her big brother’s genes at work. Just hand to mingle with Sally’s.

“What’s up kiddo?” She asked her niece as she continued to stroke her head, and did her best to seem calm and collected. She and Manic were the adults here, they needed to be strong for these precious babies.

Green eyes look up, then over to the cell door, then back to Sonia’s own. “I wanna go home.” A simple request, but what child wouldn’t want to go home with this kind of situation abound? “Why do these guys wanna be mean to Mommy and Daddy?”

Another voice spoke up, the disdain high and snark on full. “Cuz they’re- and I quote.” Manic Hedgehog interjected, keeping his voice calm, and then upping the volume as he aimed his words at their guard. “A BUNCHA COWARDS WHO RESORT TO KIDNAPPING KIDS!!” He shouted with full malice at their captors, which made both children recoil, and his sister wince.

“Manic!” Hissed Sonia as she reached out and yanked at his ear. “Stop it! You’re just making it harder for J.C. and Kathy!” She growled at her brother, her eyes going to the door to their cell and sure enough their masked guard had turned to regard them. Thankfully he just turned away and went back to guarding.

“Well these bozos need to know what kind of d*ckless, wussies they are!” Retorted Manic, the green-dyed-furred hedgehog with a growl in his voice. Usually Manic was chill, and easy-going with a touch of mischief. He was running red right now, his niece, nephew and sister being put in danger can do that to someone. “Plus they’re f*cking idiots!”

“Manic, language!” Sonia chastised further as she covered his mouth with a hand. “Not that I disagree with you, but is antagonizing our captors the wisest idea?!”

Removing her hand from his mouth, Manic let out a dismissive snort. Yet his gaze softened some as he saw the kids were looking antsy again. “Maybe not, but seriously what kind of idiots kidnaps the Prince and Princess of a Kingdom? I mean, you want a war? Plus think of their parents, heroes of the war against the Big Robo and Big Eggy! I mean that’s a recipe for doom more than my Taco Tuesday Blowout Cookout.” The food wasn’t the issue, so much as the aftermath, but worth it in Manic’s eyes.

A small rumbling was heard and J.C. blushed as eyes rested on him. “...I’m hungry, and Uncle Manic makes great tacos.” He managed a smile, despite clearly still being scared.”

“Heheh, once we get out I’ll make us all some.” Manic promised as he lovingly scratched the back of his nephew’s ears. He did the same for Kathleen, not wanting her to feel left out. “Also, sorry about the yelling and language, I’m just pis-er-pointedly angry at the bad guys.”

“We’re ‘not’ the bad guys.” Their guard finally spoke, snorting loudly. The way he seemed to clutch his weapon and his covered tail (they seemed intent to make it hard to guess their species) twitch and move, hinted at his anger at such an accusation.

Despite having just chastised Manic for antagonizing their captors; Sonia found herself unable to not engage them. “Not from where we’re standing. Uncouth as my brother put it, he called it right. Nobody who kidnaps children are the good guys.”

“We’re not going to harm you, we’re just sending a message.” His steadfast tone, carried a firmness of whatever convictions he carried about their unknown ‘cause’.

“What sort of message? We’re kidnapping your kids, so we invite you to come kick our butts? Seriously, what else do you expect?” Sonia inquired, keeping her tone polite, hoping perhaps this guard might spill some kernel of information they could use. Then a thought occurred to her. “What happened to the bodyguards watching us? I heard them cry out, did you capture them too or did you kill them?”

“We shot them, but we didn’t shoot to kill.” The guard callously responded. “They should live.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Even a crippling gunshot can lead to death if they bleed out before they get help or the injury causes the right amount of trauma. I heard multiple muffled sounds… If they got shot multiple times that increases the chances they didn’t make it.” The magenta-dyed hedgehog stated with cold, medical fact. “They also had families, so nice job dipwad, you possibly widowed and orphaned two families.” It was petty, but seeing his body language shift and just slightly shake before firming back up gave Sonia a sense of satisfaction. “You could have used stun-blasters.”

The guard hissed back his reply, but she could tell he was trying to justify his words to himself. “You can’t silence stun-blasters.”

Rolling his eyes, Manic decided to chime in. “So you bozos prioritized not making noise, over making your little power grab as bloodless as possible.”

“If they die, our leaders will make it right, all of this has a purpose! It’s to make things better-!”

It wasn’t Sonia or Manic that cut the man off, but J.C.’s small but clearly angry voice. “So making Mr. Hunigan and Mrs. Fletcher dead is alright when you say so?” The boy’s fists clenched tightly. “They were nice people, and we know their kids, they’re our friends… you took their Dad n’ Mom from them you-you, j-jerk!”

“Gee, even the six year old can see it clear as day.” Sonia icily sneered at their captor, scooting closer she slid both her arms around her family and kept them close.

“Mommy, sh-she and Daddy are gonna find us.” Kathleen managed to speak up, wiping her eyes, like her brother managed the most fearsome glare she could. “They’ll find us and kick your butts! They’re heroes, they always save the day!”

Turning, the guard’s helmet, visor and cloth covering their mouth obscured whatever Mobian species they were. “Your parents are part of the problem! If not for the Acorn Kingdom’s meddling along with the other outsider nations, we wouldn’t need to do this!”

“Only meanies justify their actions by blaming others!” Humphed the young princess as she turned her head away, as if to utterly disregard her captor. Oh Sonia and Manic’s heart swelled.

“I gotta agree with Kathy here, sounds like blame-gaming here-.” Manic mused, only to be cut off by their clearly irate captor.

“If they hadn’t meddled with the trade tariffs making exporting goods harder, not to mention their invasive meddling with our affiliate cities-!”

A lightbulb went off in Sonia’s head. “Wait, wait, time out!” She put her hands together in the referee gesture to hopefully get a word in. “You guys are blaming them for the trade issues and the Acorn Kingdom’s presence in your sister cities? Um, dude, hoo boy, you are probably being played by whoever your leaders are.”

“Bite your tongue-!” “Okay you know what, screw that, and kids I’m sorry but-.” After giving her niece and nephew an apologetic look, she quickly sent her captor a fiery glare. “First off, F*CK you! Second, the Kingdom sent delegations to those cities BY REQUEST! The mayors asked for aid in looking into some oddities with exports from Spagonia going in and out because they realized something was hinky with the weird laws and micro-managing coming out of Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry. Any of your Minister’s calling the investigations meddling or preludes to occupation are trying to play the dodge game moron! Second of all, the tariff problem? I shouldn’t say this, but I love talking shop with my sis-in-law, and boy a lot of the issues stem from how they were set up, like someone ‘wanted’ the tariffs to cause issues and sow discord. It’s a big political set-up but my big-brained Sis likes big-brained chess and she’s onto some corruption from within Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry.”

She watched as the guard looked uneasy, and his compatriot to the far way seemed to be listening in as well and had lowered his weapon some. “That, that can’t be possible.”

Footsteps could be heard as another similarly dressed guard walked into view of the first one. “Ignore them comrade, they’re trying to unnerve you.” “What if it’s true our leaders are lying to us? Given who some of them are-.” “Shut your mouth before you give anything away!” The other, more burly guard hissed as he raised a gloved hand, poised to smack his comrade if he didn’t do as he said. With his associate cowed, he turned to the cell and pointed his weapon. “Shut your mouths or I might just have to shut it for you.”

Manic moved in front of his sister, nephew and niece, arms out. “Touch them buddy, and you and I are gonna tussle!”

“Uncle Manny don’t!” “D-don’t get hurt!” “Manny…” Sonia held the children close, but tried to soothe her brother. “Don’t, they’re clearly too deluded to listen.”

“You will see it is you who is delusional!” The burly captor spoke, with a zeal of a true-believer. “Once it’s clear your Queen and your treacherous nation are outed as the villains they are, things will become bet-.”

Suddenly the entire room rumbled, and the sound of muffled shouts, and fighting could be heard in the other room. All their captors turned toward the metal door just out of view of Sonia, Manic and the children. Suddenly the door flies off its hinges, slamming into the far guard who cried out in pain and terror as they are taken out. A familiar ‘rev up’ sound is heard and then a blue blur slams into the burly captor sending him flying. As the sounds of fists fly, another far off captor raises their weapon, only for the sound of jets to get clouder and a familiar southern drawl is heard shouting. “TAKE A NAP YA’ CREEP!” A blaster bolt is heard firing off screen. Soon a blue energy blast hits the captor, causing them to drop their weapon as the stun-bolt freezes their whole body. As another guard attempts to fight, the flying Rabbot zooms him and body-tackles the would-be-attacker, a loud, thick ‘crunch’ of metal hitting flesh is heard. Clearly a one-hit-KO.

The original guard readies their weapon, trying to pick a target, clearly panicking. “Ho-hold or I’ll shoot!”

*KER-SLICE!!*

Their weapon is cleaved in two, falling from their hands, and in the next half-second, the tip of the weapon responsible is held at their throat. This man finds himself looking into the very, angry blue eyes of the Queen of the Acorn Kingdom herself, Sally Acorn. Wielding an ornate sword with the crest of her family on the hilt, and ornate lines etched into the blade. For a second the guard swore the weapon’s blade glowed for a moment, but whatever the case, it was clear the Sword of Acorns (reforged and imbued with Sally’s residue Super energy) was capable of cutting quite nicely.

Her voice was ever commanding, calm and serene, yet deadly and potent. She was clearly angry, but using said anger as a laser-focused weapon instead of being consumed by it. For now.

“You will let my babies and my younger siblings out of that cell. Now, no questions. If you so much as dare do anything but I ask, you will regret it. Do not force me to spill blood before my children, because you WILL live to regret it.” She vowed.

“N’ she ain’t the only one you need ta’ worry about.” Uttered Bunnie Rabbot, as she got up from pummeling her foe into unconsciousness. She flexed both of her cybernetic arms which transformed into blaster mode on the right, and nasty energy axe on the left. “You further threaten my God-Children or Manny and Sonia’s well-being. I might just forget I’m a Southern Lady.” While plain and frank, there was a menace in her eyes mirroring Sally’s, and the hum of her weapons furthered showed she was not playing games.

A small ‘boom’ and a flash of blue from across the room, and the guard found Sonic the Hedgehog on the other side of him, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly. “Door, open, my kids and siblings safely in arms, now!’ He didn’t bother making threats, he didn’t need to.

The guard simply let out a pathetic sound, wet himself and passed out onto the floor.

Without a word, Sonic dug at their belt, found the key and quickly as he could unlocked the cell door, and threw it open. All anger, and intimidation left his face (as well as Sally and Bunnie who put away their weapons) as the look of a worried parent and brother overcame all else. “Are you four okay?! Did they hurt you any-?!” “DADDY, MOMMY!!” Instantly Kathleen, and J.C. dashed into the arms of their Father, with their Mother soon joining in the hug, checking them over.

“Oh my babies!” Sally clutched her family tightly, kissing the children all over their faces and tops of their heads, as she checked them for injuries. “It’s okay now, Daddy and Mommy are here, oh God I’m so sorry this happened, that we weren’t there to stop you from being taken.” She babbled, as the kept-in-check emotions burst from the dam she erected to focus on the rescue.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry…” Sonic murmured, his heart still racing even with all his joy held firmly in his arms. Lifting his gaze, tear-stained he looked to his siblings worriedly. “How’re you two holding up? They didn’t hurt any of you did they?”

“Nah, they just… dragged us around at most.” Manic shrugged, but was clearly relieved this whole thing was over. As he stood he found his legs shaking, and leaned against his equally leg-shakey sister. “All that said, glad you guys found us so soon.” Moving closer, Bunnie shifted her arms, what was metal now, began to flash with energy and seemingly disassemble back to flesh and blood. The wonders of bio-nanite tech. Once her arms were organic again she pulled the two hedgehog siblings into a hug. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner sugah, but we had to basically strong-arm some of the Spagonia government to give us the okay to act. Though once Sally n’ Sonic scared these bozos' supposed leaders into talkin’ they squealed like- well sumthin I can’t say within earshot of kiddos.”

Sonia let herself chuckle, relief and a sense of security flooding her being as she leaned into the hug. “So, lemme guess, the Trade Minister and his flunkies were the culprits?”

“Yeah, I mean we were gonna confront em’ with the evidence Nicole uncovered, but you all bein’ taken kinda forced our hands.” Bunnie further explained as she scratched the back of their ears soothingly. “U-Uncle Manny and Auntie Sonia, looked after us, we’re okay…” J.C. managed to speak once his throat wasn’t sore from crying (this time from happiness).

“Hmm-hmm, they’re the best as always!” Kathleen agreed, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she remained cocooned by her parents and brother.

Smiling, Sonic reached over and managed to give each of his younger siblings an affectionate arm-punch. “Somehow I knew they’d have it under control.” Well more hoped, but he didn’t want to devalue his sibling’s efforts. No if anything he wanted them to ride the pride of keeping themselves and the kids safe.

“Lucky for us, as Sonia called it, these guys were morons. Dangerous ones, but morons.” The green-furred hedgehog blew out a breath, and then he recalled something. “Um, ah, how’re Agent Fletcher and Hunigan?”

“Alive.” Sally replied, still nuzzling her children, still unwilling to let them go. Her own heartbeat was finally starting to calm down and the adrenaline high was crashing. “They were hurt badly, but both are tenacious and they got help just in time. They might have to retire from active duty early but we’ll be sure they’ll be looked after, their families too.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The two teens, and the younger children exclaimed, as joy at the news eased their hearts from the dread they felt prior.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but the boot clomps’ were familiar. So no one tensed or got ready for another fight. Especially once Captain of the Royal Guard, Antoine D’Coolette emerged, wiping his sword blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it into its scabbard. “My Queen, ze fools have been disarmed, and rounded up. As you requested, we managed to take them all alive, if injured.” After a beat, he contemplated making a joke about some being ‘literally’ disarmed, but with the children there, he decided against it. “How are ze young ones?” He asked, decorum giving way to concerned God-Father, and as a fellow parent.

“Thankfully unhurt Sugah-Twan.” His wife replied, flashing a smile his way. “Where’s Tangle n’ Whisper?”

“Helping out Tails to ensure we didn’t miss anyone and secure the location.” Informed Antoine as he walked over, making sure all were fine, if to soothe his own fretful nature. They also will wish to zee’ that our rescuee’s are le’fine.”

Sniffing away the last of her tears, Kathleen looked up at her Mother. “Uncle Tails came too? I thought he was testing his new plane in the South Seas?”

“Once he heard the news, he jetted over as fast as he could and offered to help.” replied Sonic with a wide smirk of pride and relief for his ‘not-so-little’ bro. “Family sticks together, and well you guys are as much family as his own. Which by the way, I’m sure Tails will wanna set up a face-chat so Mina can see you’re all fine.”

“She is very fond of her biggest fans.” Chuckled Sally, who internally still found it ‘very’ weird, that Tails and Mina Mongoose hooked up. Their age gap wasn’t too bad, and clearly whatever happened to bring about their dating didn’t occur until Tais was eighteen/nineteen-ish. Then again he clearly had a thing for older women, at least his choices after Fiona Fox were an improved taste. As long as Mina was good to Tails, that was all she cared about, and they did seem like a good couple. Still weird but that was on her.

“Can we leave now?” J.C. asked softly looking up at both his parents hopefully.

“You got it son, we’ll juice n’ jam out of here and get you guys some food and tucked in for the night.”

“Can we have a sleepover in the hotel suite? Like all of us with blankets on the floor and pillows nests?” Asked Kathleen with big, hopefully eyes. A look her brother mirrored and nodded to her suggestion.

“Yeah, can we have a sleepover?!” Manic echoed, doing his best impersonation of the look.

“I don’t see why not, if everyone else is on board.” “Wouldn’t be hard for us all to fit in, big ol’ space, and like you could ask us to stay away after today.” Bunnie voiced her opinion with a warm smile at the children. Giving them assurance she was on board.

“Like the saying goes, the more the merrier.” Antoine stated to voice his blessing. “Plus I’m sure Bunnie and my own angels would love the idea as they too were worried about you four. As was your Nanny Miss Cream.” The coyote gently ruffled the hair of the two youngsters, his mind drifting to his children two years their senior. Yes, if they had been through this, he’d gladly acquiesce any whimsy they wanted within reason, and a sleepover to help soothe their nerves? A piece of cake.

Kathleen’s face fell as childish concern flooded her mind. “Oh no, that’s right, we were supposed to meet Jacque, Belle and Miss Cream after lunch…” “Hey they know we didn’t stand 'em’ up by choice.” Manic interjected as he flashed a smile and reached over to ruffle his niece’s cheek tufts.

“Let’s blow this pop stand, I want a hot bath, lots of bubbles and all the cheese cake…” Sonia muttered, feeling her own adrenaline rush and the weight of the whole ordeal finally sapping her energy.

“I hear that, let’s go home everyone.

#boundforfreedom #Sally Acorn #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Archie-Comics Pre-SGW #fanfic #rescue #Sonally #Sonsal #Sonally celebration

[loove-persevering]

Don’t Be A Hero (JJ Maybank x reader)

Description: hiii, i wanted to request an imagine or blrub with jj from outer banks? love the show can it be somthing like reader beeing a fucking badass and she (idk if u remember this scene whit the gold and the drug dealer and the gun and shit so) she is the one to go in the car to take the gun away from the drug dealer? 

I HOPE I DID YOUR IDEA JUSTICE ILY THANKS FOR SENDING THIS REQUEST IN!

WARNINGS: Violence, Weapons, Swearing.

  ‘’Holy Shit!’’ You yell as soon as you get in the car, ‘’Pinch me, I have to make sure this is real,’’ You say to JJ and he smiles his hand reaching over to you and actually pinching your arm, ‘’Not that hard!’’ You say swatting his hand away. 

‘‘You said to pinch you,’‘ JJ says shrugging his shoulders. 

‘‘Where are we going?’‘ Pope asks closing the van door and sliding into a seat next to Kie.

‘‘Resurrection Drive,’‘ Kie tells him. 

‘‘I’ve never heard of that,’‘ You chime in. 

‘‘Me either,’‘ Kie says looking at you her face also looking a little skeptical considering almost none of you had heard of the street and you had lived in the OBX your entire life. 

JJ puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you giving them a squeeze, ‘’Come on we’re about to be rich!’’ He says now shaking you. You laugh realizing you were probably just over thinking it anyway, you glance up at him turning around slightly and you could see the jitters echoing off of him. He seemed to happy, he glances down at you finally leaning down pressing a quick eager kiss on your lips before pulling away and wrapping his arms back around your shoulders holding you close. 

 You smile letting yourself breath for a minute, after all you had all been through it finally paid off and now it was time to quit literally get paid. You started to think to yourself about what you would do with your money, JJ and you had been dating for almost a year and a half now and even though that’s a pretty short period of time you both knew where you stood. You had both talked about the idea of getting your own place, somewhere that was not John B’s house. 

 All you would have to do would be stick it out until you both graduated and then make the big purchase, something nice and just for the two of you. ‘’Day dreaming?’’ You heard JJ whisper into your ear as the conversations went on around you. 

You glance up at him smiling and squeezing his forearm letting him know he was right. JJ’s influence was a great one, although he was a little spontaneous he brought out that side of you as well something that you had never really had the chance to explore before you met him. 

 A few minutes later the car was filled with silence as you watched the trees pass by through the back window of the van. ‘’So they keep money out here?’’ Pope finally ask, it was something you yourself had been questioning the further away you got from some of the local spots. 

‘‘That’s what she said,’‘ He says pausing, ‘‘That’s what she said,’‘ He says letting out a laugh, you raise your hand playfully hitting him on his arm.

‘‘Stop,’‘ Pope says his voice full of annoyance. 

‘‘I’ve never even heard of Resurrection Drive,’‘ Sarah says turning back to look at everyone from the passenger seat. 

‘‘Cause you’re rich,’‘ JJ points out. 

‘‘You’ve never heard of it either,’‘ Kie says calling him out and sara thanks her. ‘’There’s nothing but weeds back here,’’ Kie points out lowering her head to glance through the front window. 

‘‘It’s been just weeds for miles,’‘ You point out. 

‘‘All right just cause it’s just weeds doesn’t mean it’s like-’‘ JJ begins to speak but the sound of a cop siren stops him short. 

Everyone glances back now aware of the sudden cop car trailing behind, ‘’Cops’s out here?’’ You ask completely confused, there was barely anything out here. 

‘‘God! Are you kidding me?’’ JJ says panicking holding the gold in his hand. You raise your hand resting it on his arm trying to calm him down. 

‘‘Hey, calm down. We did nothing wrong.’’ You point out to him. 

‘‘Stash that,’‘ Pope says referring to the gold nugget. 

‘‘I hate cops,’‘ JJ says. 

‘‘Did you bring the gun?’‘ John B asks and for a second you felt a panic set in knowing that JJ had been bringing that thing everywhere lately. 

‘‘No. Okay?’‘ He says wrapping the gold in a piece of cloth. ‘‘Everybody told me to leave it back at the place.’‘ You felt yourself breath a sigh of relief knowing they couldn’t find anything contaminating at least, well besides the gold.

‘‘Thank God.’‘ Kiara says. ‘‘Please, everything else in your bag.’‘ She tells him. 

‘‘I am, I am alright?’‘ JJ says trying to hurry and put everything in his bag. 

‘‘How much weed do you have on you, bro?’‘ She asks noticing how panicked JJ was getting. You move slowly out of the way as Pope trys to assist JJ in putting the bag some place safe. 

‘‘He’s walking up.’‘ Pope tells JJ only making him more panicked. 

‘‘Guys!’‘ You say trying to get them to all calm down. ‘‘We all just need to chill the hell out and-’‘ You stop short when you heard the gun cock, you glance at the window noticing that the person who was not a cop had a gun aimed right at John B’s face. 

‘‘Why don’t I go ahead and see them hands in the air?’‘ The guy says. You look over to Kie noticing the panicked look on her face and you felt a lump in your throat knowing this could only end badly. ‘‘All yall’s hands in the air now!’‘ He yells now pointing the gun to the back seat causing you all to flinch and hold your hands up slowly. ‘‘You, out of the car! Let’s go!’‘ He says and John B slowly opens the door his hands still held up. 

 You all sat in the car scared to move as John B made his way around to the passenger side door. You were the closest to the door and you turn around waiting for the door to slide open so you could be the first to get out as quickly and smoothly as possible. ‘’Go On! Go on! Let’s get out of the car, Let’s go!’’ The guy says still screaming. When the door finally opens you made sure your hands were visibly raised and you push off the car allowing one foot to step out and then the other only looking at the man. You were scared to look anywhere else fearing he would shoot. ‘’There you go, pretty girl. Here we go! Get out of the car! Let’s hurry up!’’ He says aiming the gun directly at you. 

He keeps taunting you all with his words and you move backward slowly next to John B, JJ gets out of the car trying to talk him down letting him know we didn’t have money but that just causes the guy to yell more. 

‘‘All right! Just Relax!’‘ JJ yells at him slowly moving back.You could only hope JJ’s temper wouldn’t get the best of him in this situation. He had the tendency to not back down from a fight, but hopefully the gun showed him this time he didn’t have the upper hand.

‘‘Shut the hell up!’‘‘ He says moving closer to JJ the gun practically touching his chest. Pope walks over grabbing him by the shoulders trying to pull him back to make more of a distance between the two. ‘‘I will blow your damn head off!’‘ He says waving the gun right in JJ’s face. 

‘‘JJ,’‘ You call out to him letting him know you were there, ‘‘Just stop okay, listen for once alright?’‘ You call out not sure if you were being heard over the screaming voices. 

‘‘Lay down in the ditch! Lay down in the ditch!’‘ He kept repeating, you slowly cower to the ground as does everyone else ‘‘On your goddamn hands and knees! Down!’‘ He yells now walking down the line of you his gun pointed distinctly at everyones face. You glance down not wanting to make direct eye contact and your body lays flat on the ground your hands over your neck. You press your cheek against the leaves that had fallen and your knees were pressed into a wet portion of the grass. While your head was on the ground you noticed the car the guy had been driving was right there. 

When you glance back he had made his way back over to the car, ‘That’s all y’all gotta do.’’ He taunts before heading into the van. You notice JJ was closest to him and his body was practically stiff as a board, you knew he was pissed everyone was. JJ sometimes didn’t understand the line between scared and angry and when they crossed you were scared he was going to explode. 

‘‘It’s a setup guys,’‘ Kie points out, it all made sense now we never saw the boss of the pawn shop. You’d think six kids coming in with seven pounds of gold he’d want to see it for himself, let alone inspect it but he didn’t. 

‘‘That old bat shanked us,’‘ JJ says and you could hear the anger in his voice. ‘‘Fuck! Goddamn it’‘ He yells hitting the ground with his fist. 

You glance back at the car realizing the guy would be quick for an exit, it was six to one after all. But once he got the gold he’d have to carry it and having that and a gun in his hand would be a lot for him to hold. You slowly begin to push yourself up from the ground the leaves crunching under you, ‘No, no, no,’’ You hear Sara begin to say earning the attention of everyone else. 

Pope saw you before JJ did, ‘’Y/N don’t try and be a hero!’’ He yells and immediately you press your finger up to your lips telling them to be quiet. When JJ notices you he immediately tries to get up but Pope holds him down pressing his hand over his mouth. 

 ‘’Y/N,’’ Kie whispers loudly. ‘’You’re gonna get yourself killed!’’ She points out. As you walk backwards carefully watching the van you see JJ let out a shaken breath and he glances back to the van which let you know you were cut for time. You reach out for the car door opening it slowly and getting inside, you immediately reach for your wrist to unwrap the bandana you always had on. There was nothing else for you to use your best bet was to get him from behind. Once you finally get the bandana off you reach forward noticing your friends panicked looks from the front window and grabbing the keys from the ignition.  

 The familiar threatening voice made it aware he had found exactly what he intended to, ‘’All right, y’all stay just like that unless you want your brains blown out all over this road!’’ He yells. You immediately duck in the back seat scared he would see you were missing, ‘’Don’t move your goddamn heads, okay?’’ He yells. 

 You heard his hurried footsteps against the road probably eager to get away from all of you. You thought he saw you before getting in but he steps inside the car immediately laying the gun in the passenger seat and adjusting himself in his seat. You slowly make your way up from behind him making sure your bandana was positioned just right so you wouldn’t miss. Quickly you move pulling the bandana over his head and around his neck making your presence aware. His hand immediately shoots back hitting you in the face causing you to fall back and loosen your grip of the bandana around his throat, with the opportunity he turns around grabbing the gun with his opposite hand. You reach your hand out so now the gun was in front of both of you and he reached forward pulling your hair causing you to yell in pain. ‘’Bitch!’’ He yells. 

You pull the gun as hard as you can away from him and his hands were still reaching for you as you took your hand trying to find the door handle, your shaking hands made it hard but you finally found it pulling on it. You slide your body across the leather seats and fall out the car onto your back, he follows making his way out of the car this time his body over yours his foot makes contact with your ribs once before you groan in pain. After only a second JJ came up from behind him punching him in the gut but not hard enough because JJ gets a hard punch to the face knocking him down. Kie comes up behind him kneeing him in the stomach but he pushes her off she as well falls to the ground. You push your self up and as he was turned around you take the gun slamming it into his back and he falls to the ground sara only a foot away from him. 

‘‘I got the gold!’‘ You hear Pope yell. 

Sara takes the open car door slamming the guys body with it receptively, then Kie comes up now kicking him in his abdomen and then Pope knocking him against the car. 

‘’You son of a bitch!’’ Sara yells at him as his back laid against the car hunched over. John B reaches down pulling off the mans mask revealing his face. 

‘‘I know this piece of shit!’‘ JJ yells out. You grip the gun in your hand scared that he would make a sudden movement, ‘’’He’s a basehead.’’ JJ points out. 

‘‘Probably knows my brother,’‘ Sara says referring to Rafe.

‘‘He sells coke to my dad.’‘ JJ says his voice laced with disgust. 

‘‘Listen I could’ve hurt any single one of y’all,’‘ He begins to speak and JJ takes the gun from your hand forcefully slamming the end part of it into the baseheads face. 

 You instinctively go froward pulling on JJ’s shoulders to hold him back, ‘’JJ!’ You yell at him. You reach forward trying to grab the gun from him but he jerks away too blinded by anger at the moment. You glance down noticing the guy wheezing on the ground knocked over, JJ moves forward rummaging through the guys pockets and pulling out his wallet taking out his ID and throwing the car back to the ground. 

‘‘We got one last stop.’‘ JJ says pushing John B out of his way. He walks over heading to the car, ‘‘Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives.’’ JJ says not taking a glance back. 

‘‘I’m gonna remember this shit!’‘ You hear the scream as you walk away in hot pursuit of JJ. You reach up wiping the wet liquid that you quickly found out was blood from your face where you had been hit. ‘’You can’t hide from me!’’ He yells. You quickly make your way into the passenger seat of the car wincing as you sat down holding your hand to your side. 

‘‘JJ don’t be fucking stupid.’‘ You yell at him, the rest had already gotten into the back of the van and JJ takes off down the road and you felt your back press against the seat from how quickly he took off.

‘‘Me? Stupid?’‘ He yells out. ‘‘What the hell was that back there?’‘ He yells looking at you. 

‘‘I was the closest to the car, we would’ve lost the gold.’‘ You plead to him, ‘‘Slow the hell down!’‘ You yell at him realizing you had made it a distance away from only the few seconds you had been driving. 

‘‘I’m the reckless one right?’‘ He says looking to you, ‘‘I’m getting even, he tries to steal from us, we shall stealeth from ye’‘ He says. 

‘‘What the hell do you mean JJ?’‘ You ask him. Everyone else giving their input as well. 

‘‘I mean exactly what I said.’‘ He says. 

‘‘You’re going to steal from a drug dealer? Do you know how stupid that is?’’ You yell at him. ‘‘Pull the damn car over!’‘ You yell at him realizing screaming at each other was not the condition to drive in. ‘‘Pull over JJ,’‘ You yell again and he finally swerves over and you can hear the groans from the back of the car. 

He eventually does come to a stop, ‘’Out of the car now,’’ You tell him. He looks to you and lets out a deep breath reaching for the door handle and stepping out of the car. ‘’We’ll be just a minute.’’ You tell the rest following JJ out the car. ‘’Are you out of your damn mind?’’ You ask him. ‘’You think you’re just gonna walk in there and steal from the guy? He’s a drug dealer-’’ 

‘‘I know what he is Y/N!’‘ He yells. ‘‘I know what he is.’‘ He says sounding frustrated pulling at the hair on his head. ‘‘It’s an eye for an eye Y/N,’‘ He says as if it was that simple. 

‘‘You think that he won’t come for you? You think he’s just gonna let it go?’’ You yell waving your hands back toward the area where you were held at gun point, ‘‘He just held us at gun point for having gold, what happened when you take money that’s his?’‘ You ask him, JJ tries to walk back to the car but you step in front of him, ‘‘Tell me JJ what happened when he comes for us?’‘ You ask him sternly. 

‘‘If you don’t want to come then don’t,’‘ JJ says to you. ‘‘I’m not scared of him,’‘ He tells you. 

‘‘You damn well should be!’‘ You yell at him. 

‘‘Then don’t come,’‘ JJ says. ‘‘If you’re scared don’t come,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘Some of us need this money Y/N.’‘ He tells you knowing he was referring to his restitution. 

‘‘Fine!’‘ You say ‘‘I won’t come then!’‘

‘‘Just like that?’‘ He asks, his voice sounded different now. ‘‘You’re done just like that?’’ He asks you. 

‘‘You’re putting lives in jeopardy JJ, not only your own you need to realize that.’‘ You tell him. 

He watched you for a second not really saying anything, ‘’I’ll call your mom tell her to pick you up.’’ He tells you making his way back to the car. You watch wanting nothing more for him to turn around and let you know you were right, but he didn’t. He just steps back into the drivers seat of the car and starts up the engine, you see Kie and Pope glancing at you from the back window of the van both with worried and confused looks upon their face. The car takes off more steadily this time but in the process leaves you behind. 

___________

THIS GOT INTENSEEEEE WHEEEWIE, 

I would really like to write a part 2 let me know if you’d like to see that! 

Thanks for reading as always:)

I didn’t proof read oops. 

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #JJ x reader #jj obx #obx netflix #obx fanfiction #obx #rudy pankow #rudy #rudy pankow imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rudy pankow fanfiction

[willowkeyes-creates]

Maybe Not A Hero, But Still A Side

Warnings: Swearing, self-deprecation, near-death sorta?, Remus making an innuendo Set after Redux.

@hufflepuff-deceit ------------------------------------------------------------ Roman

I’ve been losing my touch for years now; it shouldn’t hurt this much to know that Thomas has finally figured it out. I’m not his hero. I was once, back when we began making short videos on Vine, maybe again when that failed and we stuck to YouTube… But I’ve just been lying to everyone for ages now.

I’m no Prince.

I’m not good.

There’s… little difference between Remus and I if you look close enough.

I’m no one’s hero. 

With a heavy sigh that fails to dislodge the lump in my throat, I collapse against the soft grass of the Imagination and let the cold rain wash over me. The cliff I’ve decided to sit on has a view over the ocean that, before all of this, I would love to just stare at and take it in for an hour or two. I’ve been in here for a week, maybe two if I’ve paid less attention then I think I have, but I can’t bring myself to show my face to anyone yet. Or, I can’t bring myself to look at the others and not feel so much that my chest wants to explode with emotions I can’t control.

Anger, frustration, confusion, betrayal, guilt- there’s so much guilt. So much for so many things that I don’t know what to do with it. Hiding it away and pretending that it doesn’t exist doesn’t help anymore. Lying doesn’t help me anymore.

Maybe Dece-... Maybe Janus knows me better than I thought. Maybe he should be one of the Light Sides; a Side that helps Thomas with his issues. Because he’s been doing a better job than I have. I just stood there as Patton hurt Thomas! I let him tell me what I should be doing- I let him tell me to go to that stupid, fucking wedding instead of what could have been the best opportunity of Thomas’ life!

My hands tangle themselves in my hair as I scream at the rain. As I scream at Patton, at Deceit, Janus, Patton- at Thomas. Myself. Everything and everyone. I just scream until something starts to hurt, then scream some more. I just want all of this to go away.

Instead, I scream until I’m too tired to scream anymore. I just lay an arm lengths away from the edge of a cliff, stare at what I guess to be a nice sunset, and just… do nothing. I don’t want to do anything anymore. I’m so tired. So sore. Thomas can last a while without me; and even more if Remus decides to take the spotlight now that I’m not around.

I should get out of the rain though; it’s starting to get really heavy. With a grunt of effort, I haul myself to my feet and throw my hoodie on despite every part of me being drenched already. My first step causes something below me to crack and I freeze to hear a second and third to follow suit. I frown down at my feet as I take another step, only for it to slip against something and send me back onto my back with a heavy thump. And a loud crack.

There’s a second of weightlessness as the ground falls out from beneath me. The sky seems to get so far away from me so quickly, with my hand reaching out as if a cloud will catch me as I fall. But what is now the edge of the cliff passes by me, I shut my eyes tight and wait for the pain of hitting the crashing waves below. For the possible breaking of my bones, for the head trauma, for the relief of not having to think while I’m unconscious-

Something wraps around my wrist and every part of me screams at me to hold onto it. Both hands grab onto the… arm of whoever caught me.

“Seriously!? I thought I was the crazy twin!” My eyes shoot open at the all-too-familiar voice to see Remus smiling down at me. It’s… a relieved smile, for some reason. 

Then I see what’s behind him. Remus is nowhere near the edge of the cliff and has both of his legs being held onto with a hand each, while two other hands hold the three of us up. Out of all the Sides to have come here, I didn’t expect these two.

“Ro. Hey.” With a couple of blinks I focus back on Remus’ face, while the lump that was once in my chest now sits up in my throat. He needs to stop looking at me like that. They’re both looking at me... “You alright there?”

“I-... N-No.”

“Remus, I don’t believe you know this, but the three of us are hanging off a cliff right now. Of course he’s not bloody alright!”

“Okay, okay! You gonna pull us up then, or what!?” 

One moment I’m watching the two argue as my legs dangle over the dangerous ocean, the next I’m back on solid ground and I can feel tears building up as I realise what just happened. They rescued me. They’re heroes…

“Roman?” Remus’ voice is too soft, too filled with worry over such a useless Side. In a world of my own creation, where I rule, I still can’t be anyone’s hero because I’m too busy needing saving myself. I was saved by those I called villains. “Fuck- Jan, he’s crying! Did he hit his head?”

I shake my head and curl my legs up to my chest; the lump in my throat now painful and starving me of air. It’s all too much. Everything is so much while I can do so little. Like an ant in a rainstorm without shelter. Like a mortal trading places with Atlas to hold up the sky. Like a stupid Prince who’s been thinking so much of himself, when he actually just insults others and makes everything worse!

So when I feel fingers in my hair, I push them away only for arms to wrap around me and hold me close to someone’s chest. Even as I keep struggling, two more sets of arms wrap around me and feel so warm against how damp and cold my skin is. I feel fingers in my hair again- gloved fingers. With another gloved hand holding my own and rubbing their thumb across the back of my hand.

“Ro? You sane now?” I attempt to swallow the suffocating lump, but fail as it feels even bigger than before. What am I supposed to say? I am sane- I always have been sane. I’m just no longer blind.

“... I guess so…”

“Good, ‘cause I gotta tell you off for scaring me. Do you know how hard that is to do? You big-headed… butt-head.”

“Not the time for insults...” I guess the extra arms are coming from Janus. He shouldn’t be comforting me; not after what I said. Not after I hurt him after he showed us something so… terrifying… And I fucked it up. I destroyed so much with so few words. 

“So, you gonna thrash around again? I can let go if you want. I doubt I smell like roses and honey or whatever...” A set of arms goes to release me and in that moment, I decide to be selfish and quickly grab hold of them. Then move to grab hold of him. Both of them. And I just cry. 

“I-I’m sorry… For your name, and ignoring you, and calling you villains, a-and threatening you- I threatened you so much… Fuck…” I can smell them both and it’s such a weird scent, even more so with the scent of rain mixed with them. There’s honey and lavender, but also Thomas’ deodorant and something close to when Patton forgets to put the lid of the trash bin back on. It’s gross, but comforting.

I shouldn’t be comforted. 

“Roman, it’s-”

“No!” I pull back to see them both, again hating the look in their eyes. Janus’ heterochromatic ones and the bright red ones of my brother, both looking at me with looks like so much worry. “Stop looking at me like that! I don’t deserve it! Or this! Or to be saved-”

“Stop it, Roman-” I swat the reaching gloved hand away and fall backwards, out of their arms, before digging my palms into my eyes to see the dancing spots instead of seeing the kindness I don’t deserve. 

“I screwed up so much! I ignored you, Em! I pretended that you didn’t exist! What so-called ‘good guy’ ignores his own twin!? None! Because I’m not fucking good! I never was! I’ve never been a hero!”

“Roman!” “And I knew that your name was important to you, Dec- Janus! God, I don’t deserve to call you by your name! I laughed! I… I fucking laughed! After you saved Thomas, while I just made shit worse! I made fun of it!”

“And I compared you to Remus while you were in a vulnerable state- Stop apologising and look at us!” 

It’s something in the way Janus says it, it could be how his ‘s’ are starting to be held longer or the actual desperation from him that I’ve never heard before, but I take my hands away from my eyes and look up at them. 

Remus is grinning brightly and without any of his usual craziness behind it. He looks happy as he stretches his arms out towards me- now making grabby hands at me as if he wants a hug from me. It’s… weird to see him so happy. Is he usually straining his smile? Or this is a different kind of happy then when he pops up to give one of us a fright?

Janus has a soft smile on his face as he fixes the hat atop his head with one of his six arms. He holds another hand out and motions me to come to them. “We both said some harsh things; and I sincerely apologise for hurting you after so much had happened to you and Thomas. And we’ll talk this through- but later. You look exhausted, Roman…”

“So come here, hug us, and let me carry you to our side of the Mindscape for some microwaved leftovers so that we can be best bros for two minutes before you regret saying that mushy shit to me.” 

The lump in my throat doesn’t hurt as much- but is still very much there. We do have a lot to talk through, but I am also so tired. And cold. And I nearly just fell into bone-shattering waves. Remus’ open arms and Janus’ inviting look warms something inside me and pushes me into my brother's arms. He holds on tightly with fistfulls of my shirt, as if I’ll disappear. I did this to him… I made him scared that I would leave him again.

“No, Rem…” I have to fix this. I have to become better, instead of sulking away in my Imagination. Doing nothing, solves nothing. If I want to be a hero, I have to work for it again. From the bottom up. Which starts with Remus. “More than two minutes…”

“Sixty-nine minutes?” 

“Sixty-nine years sounds better. Especially with an infinity on the end.”

“Sixty-nine infinities? What legendary stamina…”

“You’re gross and insane.” Yet I only hold onto him tighter. His hugs have always felt like I’m not missing a part of myself, as if everything will be okay and nothing will be bad again. It’s a huge lie, but no one else’s hugs can make me feel this kind of safe. 

“Come on. I love standing in drenched clothing and I totally don’t want Roman to try the lasagne that we made yesterday.” Holy crap. The leftovers is lasagne!? 

“Oooh! You’ll love it, Ro! The cheese on top is scrunchy, like an exo-skeleton.” Too tired to get grossed out at that rather terrifying image, I just give him a hum to make him know that I heard as he picks me up without issue. Now he just smells like strong deodorant with a hint of trashiness; which is dealable enough to get comfortable against him. 

“You better not be sleeping. You know how I wake people up.”

“With a scream two inches from their face?”

“I was gonna put slime in your shirt- but that works too! Maybe with some blood…”

“Fake blood please, Remus.” I open my eyes and catch Janus’ gaze for a moment. He gives me another smile before bapping the back of Remus’ head since he was making his nose drip blood. “I wasn’t lying! Clean that up before we enter the Mindscape or you’ll stain the carpets again!”

“Those carpets are already stained from last week!”

“I will hide your copy of Betelgeuse! In my room no less- don’t test me!”

Closing my eyes once more, I hear a raspberry from Remus before they start bantering again. A few days on their side of the Mindscape will do me good. With my deranged yet caring brother and… the attractive-looking, snake man that may have just turned my school yard crush on him into a full on I’m-gay-for-you. We’ll have to talk first, and I have to get some flowers to apologise properly with, but maybe one day I’ll ask him out. Leftover lasagne dinner with him and my brother sounds like a good start.

#roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #brotherly creativitwins #creativitwins #dukeceit #roceit #tw swearing #willowkeyes writes #ask to tag

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #459

“i wanted you to know that i love the way you laugh  /  i wanna hold you high and steal your pain away”

Does the person you like have any flaws? He's never seemed very expressive of what he feels. Has anyone ever given you a ring? Why? Yes. Because it was our anniversary and he wanted to, ig. If you ruled your own country, what type of government would it have? I'm not educated enough to answer this. Creation theory, Evolution or the Big Bang theory? I really don't know what I believe about the origins of the universe, but I do believe in evolution. Describe one of your most emotional farewells. The last time I saw Jason and we talked for a long time, and I finally got my closure. It was all so heavy. It started so stiffly, but it ended with us just chatting and smiling and, to my absolute shock, a hug from him. I'm getting emotional so NEXT QUESTION. What was your last serious conversation about? I was reassuring and comforting Sara about some stuff. Is there a city that you have a particular fondness for? If so, what city is it and why? No. Are there any gnomes in your yard? No. When was the last time you were stung by a bee? What kind was it? Years ago. A bumblebee. Are you gonna buy lottery tickets when you’re old enough? I am old enough, and no. The odds are way, way too small, and I don't really dabble in addictive behavior. Have you ever been into a real cave? No. :( That's a life goal, though. Have you ever posted mean comments on YouTube? I know I did once as a kid. It was regarding Meerkat Manor and I thought it was really disrespectful to Flower just because of the music chosen lmao. The drama. What color is your digital camera, if you have one? Black. If you had to spend one day in any movie storyline, which one would it be? Alice in Wonderland, I suppose? Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Oh man, I've played waaaaay too many video games. I suppose Silent Hill with how confused it left me at first. Its concept is definitely wild. Parasite Eve is high on the list, too. In your opinion, what is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Boy in the Striped Pajamas destroys me. What is the best song to make out to? I could answer this but I'm not gonna lmfao Is there anyone right now that you are simply/overly infatuated with? story of my life ayyyyeeeee Who was the last person to play with your hair? Are they cute? Not a clue. Who was the last person close to you that died? Did you cry? Jason's mom. I sobbed on-and-off for days. Do you consider yourself a healthy person? Physically and mentally? No, in either way. Do you know anyone who owns a boat? My dad does. I'm sure others, too, with how popular fishing out on a boat is here. Do you know anyone who uses medical marijuana? I don't know. Even for medicinal purposes, it's not legal here. Do you know anyone who’s died in childbirth? No. What did you do for your 21st birthday? I was in the psych hospital, so... lmao. Therapy, reading, and coloring. Lots of reading and coloring. Because they did NOT fill your schedule enough there. We only had two group therapy sessions a day, and the rest was just... blankness. If dinosaurs could be tamed, would you want one as a pet? I know I'd be one of the dumb ones that absolutely wanted a tiny raptor, lol. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? Not interested. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? I don't like soup. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? My first real series that I read religiously was Hank the Cowdog. Then it was Warriors. Do you buy Halloween candy when it’s on sale after the holiday? No. I really don't need candy available to me. Do you agree with the “they’re just being kids” excuse? It depends on what they're doing. In a lot of cases, no. Do you ever watch talk shows? No. Do you have a/any hero(s)? Mark Fischbach, Steve Irwin, my mom... Have you told your parents all of your secrets from when you were a teen? No. Though Mom has playfully once told me that she knows a lot of things I don't think she does, and that's terrifying lmao. You’re getting married. Who’s your maid of honor and best man? M.o.H.: Mom or Sara. Best man isn't my choice. Would you rather get highlights or dye your whole head? DYE IT ALLLLLLL. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? My friendship ring w/ Sara. It has a heart carved on the outside and "bitch" engraved inside so no one can see when you have it on, lol. She has one that says "jerk." It's a Supernatural reference. Who challenges you the most? In what way? My therapist and psychiatrist. They just help ensure I pursue my goals and give me little nudges forward to reassure me. Who seems to hold you back? In what way? PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT ME. I listen to my anxiety WAY too much. What was the last opportunity that you passed up, and why? Going up to Lake Gaston w/ Mom to visit Ash and her fam. They go there all the time, and it's a real nice place. I just didn't want to go because of the heat. Should there be an application process for having children? Hunny, that would not stop people from fuckin lmfao Name one thing that you think defines you as a person? m e e r k a t s What is a fear you have about living on your own? That depression would get the better of me and I'd neglect taking good care of my house. One of the many reasons I'll never live alone. Not at all saying I'd leave the responsibilities to my partner, but they'd be motivation for me to get stuff done. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. Nothing that bad. What’s your stance on spooning? It helps me feel safe and loved and alsdkfjalwe I just love cuddling in all sorts lmao What’s your most recent obsession? Violet Orlandi & Melodicka Bros' cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know." Have you ever been scammed? Ha ha, yes. I once wanted to get Jason a Joker and Harley Quinn pillow from deviantART; talked to the artist, paid 'em, never got it. :^) Have you ever fostered an animal? No. I would get WAY too attached to foster. I wouldn't be able to give them up without breaking down, probs. Do you know anyone who acts way younger than what they are? I'm sure I do, but no one is coming to mind atm. Would you say you’re a pretty independent person? God no. Does the last song you listened to, remind you of someone? JASON. Do you currently want a new computer? Yes, actually. I want a desktop PC for better gaming quality, honestly. Also, the "escape" key doesn't work on this laptop, one key is missing so I have to hit the sensor JUST right, and it restarts randomly sometimes. I want a PC mainly because I want to get out of the habit of being on my laptop in bed all damn day. How would your parents react if you got a tattoo? I already have like six or seven, so they wouldn't be surprised. Is there anyone you can picture yourself being with forever right now? Maybe. Who is your truest friend? Sara. What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? THIS house? Idk. Nothing that I'd consider odd. What bug frightens you most? STAG BEETLES lkadjslkfja;lwekjawl;kejrlawer Who is your oldest friend? That would be Sam, and he's in his mid-30s. How long have you known them? Many years. We met via WoW, which I've been playing since '14. I don't really remember how far into it we met, though. Where are they right now? lol I wouldn't know, he's all the way in Jersey. Plus we haven't talked in a while. Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? God no, that would be so weird. What is the best gift someone can give you? An ear to listen without it feeling like a chore to them. Have you ever dated someone who had a child? No. I don't think I could do it. What is the last movie that made you cry? The The Lion King remake made me tear up. Have you ever played in a waterfall? No. Ugh, that sounds like a blast. In your life who has meant the most to you? Let's not get into this. What has been your biggest failure in life? Letting depression and my other conditions take away my identity, becoming my new identity. Do you trust yourself? No. I second-guess EVERYTHING and never know what I should listen to: my heart, my head, my gut... or which voice is what. Would you ever consider getting an abortion, under any circumstances? Yes. What was the last bug you killed? Some kind in the bathroom. Idk what it was. Just a little thing that sort of resembled an earwig, but not completely. Do you prefer profile pictures by yourself of with someone else? By myself, since it's my page. Do you know anyone who has written a book? I don't think so? Do you drink milk/juice from the carton if no one is around? Ew, no. I live with another person, and even if I didn't, what if I had guests? Has anyone ever told you they liked you in a realllly sweet way? Maybe? Has a member of the opposite sex ever given you jewlery? Jason has. Do you find sleeping in cars easy? NOOOOOOOOOO. I'm too scared to let my eyes close and not see what's going on on the road. Has a boyfriend’s/girlfriend’s parents ever gotten mad at you? Why? I don't believe so, no. What is the funniest thing a child has ever said to you. Definitely something my niece has said, but idr what it was. What’s been on your mind lately? Y'all know, lol. Do you feel like you need to get something off your chest? No. Sara was recently there for that. ♥ How would you react if someone told you they had feelings for you? Be very very excited if it was from a certain person.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''broken'' by seether (ft. amy lee)

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Bakusquad, An Extended Scene About The Joys And Pains of Dyeing Hair

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. No additional content warnings apply. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

⚡💖⛰️🎸📼

You have added Best Bakubro 💣💥!

You have changed the name from “⚡💖⛰️🎸📼” to “⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼”!

hehehe we’re all set (sent 12:10)

welcome baku!! 💪🏻 (sent 12:10)

- 

God 💡: 👀 (received 12:11)

Simply Mina: 👀👀 (received 12:11)

MT Tape: 👀 (received 12:11)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: shitty hair (received 12:13)

- 

you promised!!! (sent 12:13)

no take backs 👀 (sent 12:13)

- 

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fuck (received 12:13)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: okay two things (received 12:13)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: one i’m muting this so @ me or fuck off (received 12:14)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: two give me your names (received 12:14)

God 💡: wait srsly?? (received 12:15)

God 💡: c’mon bro it’s been months :( (received 12:15)

Simply Mina: yea wth blasty that’s so cold :(( (received 12:15)

MT Tape: answer the people explosion man @Best Bakubro 💣💥 (received 12:17)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fine you’re staying random numbers then (received 12:18)

God 💡: OH (received 12:18)

God 💡: kaminari denki here!! (received 12:18)

MT Tape: this is sero 🙏🏻 (received 12:18)

Simply Mina: mina!!! (received 12:19)

Simply Mina: @Guitar Hero is kyoka 💖 (received 12:19)

* 

Best Bakubro 💣💥

who? (received 12:19)

-

jirou!! (sent 12:19)

-

? (received 12:19)

-

🔌 (sent 12:20)

-

ah (received 12:20)

* 

⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼

Best Bakubro 💣💥: k (received 12:20)

God 💡: anyways (received 12:22)

God 💡: this is the best day of my life (received 12:22)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: shut it jolteon (received 12:22)

God 💡: dude i didn’t even @ u asdfkjsfk (received 12:22)

God 💡: wait omg is that an upgrade?? (received 12:23)

God 💡: did i get upgraded from pikachu to jolteon omg omg (received 12:23)

MT Tape: DIBS ON UMBREON (received 12:23)

MT Tape: we’re picking eeveelutions right? (received 12:23)

-

!!!! pls pls flareon pls!!! (sent 12:24)

-

Simply Mina: espeon or sylveon (received 12:24)

Simply Mina: espeon or sylveon??? (received 12:25)

Simply Mina: GUYS (received 12:25)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: this is a nightmare (received 12:25)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: and wtf espeon of course (received 12:26)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: better stats and none of that affection shit (received 12:26)

Simply Mina: the council has spoken (received 12:26)

-

what about flareon??? (sent 12:27)

plsplspls (sent 12:27)

-

Best Bakubro 💣💥: kirishima (received 12:27)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: it’s red. (received 12:28)

-

HELL YEAH ❤️ (sent 12:28)

-

Guitar Hero: hi what the HELL are you guys spamming about (received 12:30)

Guitar Hero: oh hey bakugou (received 12:30)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: plugs you’re glaceon (received 12:31)

Guitar Hero: i’m cool with that (received 12:31)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: good (received 12:31)

MT Tape: ok kiri i think i get it now (received 12:34)

MT Tape: putting every decision thru the baku filter is so much more fun (received 12:34)

- 

right??? (sent 12:34)

-

Best Bakubro 💣💥: don’t fucking start (received 12:35)

Simply Mina: too late <3 (received 12:35)

God 💡: our trap card activated the moment you stepped into this chat man (received 12:36)

MT Tape: Bakugou Katsuki has been designated Chief Executive Brain (CEB) of the squad, effective immediately. (received 12:36)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: i’m leaving (received 12:37)

-

:( (sent 12:37)

-

MT Tape: … 👀 (received 12:40)

MT Tape: he ain’t leaving huh? (received 12:44)

God 💡: kiri’s puppy eyes once again confirmed as world’s strongest force (received 12:45)

Simply Mina: it’s kiri so we’re all safe tho <3 (received 12:45)

-

<3 (sent 12:45)

-

Best Bakubro 💣💥: for the record i hate all of you (received 12:46)

*

⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼

Simply Mina: hey hey blasty (received 14:48)

Simply Mina: which eeveelution are you? (received 14:48)

Simply Mina: @Best Bakubro 💣💥 (received 14:50)

God 💡: 👀👀 (received 14:50)

- 

👀 (sent 14:50)

-

MT Tape: 👀 (received 14:51)

Guitar Hero: ^ what they said (received 14:53)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: eevee, duh (received 14:56)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: i don’t need a type advantage to win (received 14:56)

-

😭 bro so manly (sent 14:56)

also (sent 14:57)

You have changed the name from “⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼” to “🦊 Eevee Squad 🦊”!

-

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fucking fantastic. can we shut up now? (received 15:00)

*

Best Bakubro 💣💥

see? told u it’s fun 💪🏻 (sent 15:01)

-

i guess (received 15:02)

-

like i said u can just ignore the chat if ur not feeling it (sent 15:10)

they’re cool, they won’t mind (sent 15:10)

+ i’ll text u stuff directly if it’s important (sent 15:12)

-

kiri (received 15:12)

-

ok ok hhh just saying (sent 15:12)

- 

i know (received 15:13)

you got that shit for ectoplasm yet? (received 15:17)

-

ummm (sent 15:17)

-

fucking knew it (received 15:17)

you coming or what? (received 15:22)

-

!!! o7 (sent 15:22)

*

Bakugou is staring.

Eyes on the page, Kirishima tries to focus on the function he’s been struggling to get for fifteen minutes now. Something about tangents and right angles? No, cotangents, which is different from a non-cotangent tangent because–

Bakugou has stopped writing a while ago, the fabric-covered pen resting loosely in his hand, his head propped up on a fist.

–the cosine does… something with the sine of X. Division? Maybe? X pops up in a bunch of places, actually, and Kirishima longs for the days math still featured numbers and not whatever nonsense this cos-sin-tan stuff is–

Bakugou is staring right at him, has been for ages now and Kirishima can’t help it. He looks up, only to catch Bakugou looking away, and huffs a nervous chuckle.

“Bro, c’mon. What’s up? Is there something on my face ‘cause you’ve been–”

“It’s black.” There’s a pensive twist to Bakugou’s brow. He breezes through the part of the problem Kirishima’s stuck on like it’s nothing, scribbled down in permanent ink like the monster he is. “Your natural haircolor. It’s black, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Kirishima picks his head up from where he’s slumped across Bakugou’s desk, the bean bag he’s sitting on shifting under his butt. Since when does Bakugou care about his hair? It hasn’t been black for over a year, anyways, so what does that have to do with…

“Wait, why do you–”

Bakugou’s eyes wander back to him, landing on Kirishima’s hair for barely a second but it’s enough. With a mortified noise, Kirishima slaps both his hands over his forehead – or more specifically, his roots.

Because Kirishima completely forgot he’s overdue on a redye for a good week and styled his hair as he usually does: gel evenly spread into carefully towel-dried strands, quirk on until it dries, done. He hadn’t looked into a mirror before heading to class or he would’ve seen his tips straying from cherry red to berry pink.

And that jet-black line where it’s growing back out. The roots that are the bane of Kirishima’s existence and that Bakugou saw.

Kirishima groans, curling into himself until his head hits wood with a dull donk. “How bad is it? Don’t spare me, bro, I need to know.”

That rhymes, the part of his brain not burning in the hellfire of shame chimes in. Kirishima firmly tells it to shut up.

“Your hair?”, Bakugou asks from an unknown realm beyond the bit of desk Kirishima’s staring at, a beat late. Probably to treat him to a glare he can’t see.

Kirishima rubs his forehead across his math homework in a miserable nod.

“It’s not more or less shitty than usual, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou scoffs. “What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, nothing”, Kirishima shrugs, his voice a fake-cheerful mumble, “Just that I’ve been walking around like this all day. A whole ass day. Kill me, now.”

“Nah. Wasn’t the idea to ‘die like a man in chivalrous battle’?”

Kirishima shoots him a dirty look. Bakugou doesn’t even bat an eye; he flashes his teeth in a bright smile and knocks his fists against each other, whispering “manly” under his breath and okay, why does Bakugou have to be good at everything, including impersonating Kirishima?

“I hate you”, grumbles Kirishima. Bakugou breaks character to cackle, only stopping after Kirishima balls up his pitiful attempt at math to throw it at his head. Bull’s eye, right on the forehead.

“Oi! That’s your homework, moron.”

“You started it”, Kirishima points at him with his pencil. His notepad is pulled closer with a deep, long sigh. “Now I gotta do this stuff again and stress about my hair. Amazing.”

Ah, the God-help-me eyeroll. It’s been a while. “Just go fucking dye it and come back if it bothers you so much. Can’t be that hard.”

“Says the blond guy”, Kirishima huffs. “Dude, do you even know how long getting rid of this” – a gesture to his roots – “takes? Black hair is a pain to bleach. Literally.”

Bakugou considers his hair with a frown. “…How long are we talking here? Like, an hour?”

A laugh, louder than Kirishima intends. “Try three. Sometimes more, it depends.”

“Three hours?!”

“Or more.”

A little smug, Kirishima watches disbelief bloom on Bakugou’s face. When it comes to this, destroying the innocence of the uninitiated is the only joy he’s got. There’s really nothing fun about sitting through those hours every six weeks, give or take – just plain, boring routine. At least he isn’t anxious about making mistakes anymore, not like his first few times.

It’s definitely worth it, though. Kirishima loves his red hair.

“And it, what. It hurts?”

Bakugou is still processing it seems, a hand going to his own hair. (It looks so soft, that even light color Kirishima has envied since the beginning of time. Such a nice base for any type of dye, especially bright ones or pastels.)

Kirishima scrunches his nose. “The developer does, yeah. Anything over 9% makes your scalp burn like crazy so I stick to 9% and do multiple rounds. I can’t go light enough for the red I want, otherwise.”

“And then the dye?”

“Then you dye it, yeah. Roots first, then the lengths in small strands, let it sit for twenty more minutes or so, rinse it out and then you’re done.”

It’s weird to explain things that have become totally obvious to him step by step, but Bakugou looks strangely fascinated by what he’s hearing. He does likes things to be more complicated than simple in basically any regard, Kirishima muses with a private snicker. Perhaps it’s not that surprising, after all.

“I use pure red on everything but you can mix colors, too, there’s a whole science behind that. And if you decide ‘Hey, I haven’t suffered enough!’, you can do individual highlights as well. But that’s a production all in itself! Ask Kami, he does some wild things to get that lightning bolt just right.”

Bakugou slowly shakes his head. “You people are crazy. That can’t be worth it.” He squints at Kirishima, hums to himself and starts nodding, instead. Vaguely terrified of what’s brewing in that brain of his, Kirishima waits for him to finish thinking.

“Let’s do it.”

There it is, a suitably terrible idea. Also: What?

“Color or highlights?” Kirishima sputters. “Wait, you or me? Bro, I can live with my own mistakes but dyeing your hair is too much pressure. Like, I’ll do it if you really want me to but, um–”

“Color. And you, obviously. Who of us is freaking out about hair, huh? Sure as fuck ain’t me.”

I’m not freaking out about it, Kirishima wants to say. Okay, he had been freaking out a little. Maybe. Not anymore, not with the mental image of Bakugou with Riot-red hair sort of making his braincells implode.

It’s impossible to imagine. Kirishima tries to anyways, fails, shakes his head. Focus!

“But…”

He draws a blank. Actually, Bakugou helping him with his hair does sound kind of fun. Until his patience inevitably runs out and he explodes the pot of dye, or something. Which could be hilarious, too.

“…Homework?”

(Not that he particularly wants to go back to puzzling over non-tangent cotangents – Ectoplasm always seems to know when he didn’t do the thing, though, and Kirishima hates disappointing his teachers more than he does the variable X.)

Bakugou sparks off in his direction. “We got three hours. 'nuff said.” He snatches up the math book they were sharing, Kirishima’s notepad and even the pencil out of his hand, and is out the room before Kirishima has fully registered they’re doing this.

“Shitty Hair!”

Kirishima jumps to his feet.

“Coming!”

*

“This is so damn messy. How’s your bathroom not stained to hell already?”

Coming up on their third round over his bathroom sink, Kirishima feels little sleepy as he blinks up at Bakugou. That expression of intense concentration hasn’t budged all three rounds, Bakugou’s hands steady yet gentle where they’re starting to dab red dye over freshly bleached roots.

There’s a dot of crimson on his cheek already. After forcing gloves on Bakugou and explaining to him how red pigment is the hardest to wash out – on clothes, skin, hair, wherever it lands – Kirishima isn’t inclined to point it out to him just yet.

“I asked admin about it. They said everything in our rooms is practically indestructible, including the sinks.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, right? They thought of everything, it seems.”

Bakugou continues. Kirishima dozes.

“Your hair is dry as fuck, by the way.”

Kirishima shrugs with his eyes closed, following the nudge to turn his head so Bakugou can get to the back. This is so much more comfortable than doing it by himself.

“Can’t be helped, man. The dye by itself is fine, actually, it’s the bleach that’s causes most of the damage. Oh well, with the gel it’s hard as concrete, anyways.”

“Mhmm. You’ll go bald by the time we’re outta here.”

“Hey!”

“Bald Hero: Red Riot”, Bakugou muses out loud, easily evading the kick Kirishima blindly aims at his shin. “Stop it, you’re gonna fuck up my hard work here.”

He’s smiling though, Kirishima can tell. It’s all in his voice, roughness replaced by warmth when it’s the two of them in Kirishima’s tiny bathroom.

“Stop dissing my hair, then. Besides, I know your secret.”

This Kirishima wants to see. He opens one eye and yup, Bakugou’s brows are doing the thing where they twitch and pull together. Not exactly a frown, more caught off guard than anything. Bakugou’s lips press shut, stubbornly silent as he brushes dye on every inch of Kirishima's hair.

Then: “I’m done. What am I s’posed to do with this shit?”

Kirishima glances at the pot Bakugou holds out to him. There’s still some of the thick liquid left.

“Just pour it on top. Can’t hurt and it’s better than throwing it away.”

Bakugou does exactly that. He tosses the empty pot and the thoroughly stained brush into the sink. Kirishima helps him wrap his hair in cellophane and a towel to reduce the possible mess, relocating to the closed lid of his toilet so Bakugou can take off the gloves and wash his hands.

“Okay, I’ll fucking bite. What secret?”

Lingering on the tension between them, Kirishima grins with all the confidence in the world. “That you like my hair.”

Bakugou barks a laugh. “After I went all Van Gogh on it? You better believe it’s good.”

“Nope, I mean before that”, Kirishima challenges.

“Proof?”, Bakugou shoots back without hesitation.

“Oh, I can give you proof.” Kirishima’s arms cross over the ratty shirt he always wears for this, its fabric dotted and streaked in interlacing shades of red. “One, it’s the first thing you noticed about me, hence ‘Shitty Hair’. Two, you were distracted by my roots growing in so you pay attention to how it looks–”

“I don’t–”

“–and three, you just spent hours dyeing it for me.”

Bakugou’s mouth snaps shut. He growls in his throat, grabbing an additional towel and drying his hands. Kirishima wasn’t aware those are actions that can be done aggressively but hey, he’s learning something new every day.

“Maybe”, Bakugou finally concedes. The towel is thrown in Kirishima’s face when all he does is smile. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Bakugou’s cheeks are dusted pink. Still, Kirishima shows the guy some mercy: Bakugou spent all afternoon fixing both his hair and his math homework, after all.

“Hey, Baku?”

“… What?”

“Thanks, man. You’re a good friend, you know that?”

Somehow, that makes Bakugou look even more flustered. “Whatever, Shitty Hair.”

Because Bakugou is Bakugou, namely a man who doesn’t know when or how to quit, he sticks around until Kirishima can rinse out the dye. He emerges from the shower feeling fully restored, a towel wrapped around his waist and his shirt draped over his shoulder.

“And that’s how you do it.”

Bakugou throws him a look from his sprawl on Kirishima’s bed, manga in hand. His gaze flicks to his hair immediately; his lips twist upwards, obviously satisfied.

“Told ya, it ain’t hard.”

Kirishima chuckles, shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit, dude.”

Now that the hair situation is under control for a few weeks, he realizes how hungry he is. The evening has barely begun, too, which means there’s time for a movie before Bakugou’s ridiculous sleep schedule comes a-knocking, either taking him out or making him cranky. Each scenario has about a fifty-fifty chance of happening.

“Hey, you wanna–”

Out of nowhere, his door bursts open to reveal one Kaminari Denki, out of breath and clutching a very familiar book to his chest.

“Kiri! Please tell me you guys figured out the–”

His eyes fall first on the splattered shirt on Kirishima’s shoulder, the trails of watery red dripping from his hair to his naked chest – and then on Bakugou, hands stained a faint red despite the gloves, that smear of color on his cheek Kirishima forgot to tell him about still very much there.

“Is that blood? What happened? Oh my–” Kaminari gasps. “Did you kill somebody?! Oh fuck, we have to hide the bo–”

“Kami”, Kirishima tries between bouts of laughter, “No, what the hell!”

A familiar cackle behind him does absolutely nothing to help their case.

>>Chapter 8.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fanfiction #tumblr will 100% kill the formatting #this fic is also on AO3!! (again the format......) #anyhow final stop in fluff land before we dive into more angst next time :3c #my stuff

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior 10/1/21: VENOM: LET THERE BE CARNAGE, THE ADDAMS FAMILY II, THE MANY SAINTS OF NEWARK, TITANE, MAYDAY, THE JESUS MUSIC

Yeah, so I haven’t had the time over the past couple weeks to write a column, and I kind of hate that fact, especially since I’m coming up on a pretty major milestone for me writing a weekly box office column and reviewing movies. In fact, that milestone comes next week! And once again, I’m struggling to get through the movies I was hoping to watch and write about this week, because I’ve been out of town and once again, very busy over the weekend. Let’s see how far I get...

Before we get to this week’s wide releases, I’m excited to say that my local arthouse movie theater, The Metrograph, is finally reopening for in-person screenings, and they’re kicking things off with a 4k restoration of Andrez Zulawski’s 1981 thriller, Possession, starring Sam Neill and Isabell Adjani, who won a Best Actress prize at Cannes for her performance in the film. I actually saw this at the Metrograph a few years back, and Metrograph Pictures, the distribution arm of the company is now distributing the 4k restoration. There’s a lot of exciting things ahead at Metrograph, including an upcoming four-film Clint Eastwood retrospective, including White Hunter, Black Heart (1990) and A Perfect World (1991) this Friday. Also, Lingua Franca director Isabel Sandoval will be showing her fantastic film from 2020 (a rare chance to see it in a theater and I’ll be there!) as well as program a number of other favorites of hers. Sunday will have screenings of Ingmar Berman’s Scenes from a Marriage (1973) in its full four plus hour glory, Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993) and John Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness (1994).. In other words, the Metrograph is back!

Moving over to the weekend’s three wide releases, the first one up being Sony’s VENOM: LET THERE BE CARNAGE (Sony Pictures) with Tom Hardy returning as Eddie Brock aka Venom, joined by Woody Harrelson as the psychotic symbiote, Carnage. Taking over the directing reins is Andy Serkis, who has only directed two other movies, Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle and Breathe, but as an actor, he’s been heavily involved with the CG VFX (and performance capture) needed to bring the characters in this Marvel anti-hero movie to life.

Venom has been one of Spider-Man’s most popular villains and sometimes allies for quite a few decades now, starting out life as a cool black costume Spider-Man found on a strange planet during the first “Secret Wars,” which turned out to be an alien symbiote that had malicious intentions. Spider-Man got the costume off of him but it then linked up with Eddie Brock, a sad-sack journalist whose emotions drove the alien symbiote to become the Venom we known and (mostly) love, thanks to one Todd McFarlane. Venom continued to play a large part in the Spider-Man books before getting his own comics, and not before a super-villain was created for him in Cletus Kasady, a vicious serial killer whose infection by the symbiote turns him into Carnage. And that’s who Harrelson is playing.

Being a sequel, we do have some basis to go on, although the original Venom movie, released in early October 2018, also arrived at a time when it was only the second time the character of Venom was brought to the big screen -- the first time being Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 3, in which the character was received without much love as Ryan Reynold’s Deadpool in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. And yet, Venom did great, opening with $80.2 million and grossing $213 million domestically, which is more than enough to greenlight a sequel. (It made over double that amount overseas, too.) For comparison, the Wolverine prequel opened with $85 million but at the beginning of summer, so it quickly tailed away with other movies coming out after it. Venom: Let There Be Carnage has to worry about the new James Bond opening a week later, so it very likely could be a one-and-done, opening decently but quickly dropping down as other big movies are released in October (basically one a week).

I’ve already seen the movie, and by the time you read this, reviews will already be up --including my own at Below the Line. Social media reactions seem to not be so bad though, so maybe it’ll get better reviews than its predecessor, which was trashed by critics, receiving only a 30% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. But if you look at the fan ratings, they’re higher with 81%, although it’s hard not to be

I’m thinking that bearing COVID in mind and the law of depreciation since the previous movie, Venom: Let There Be Carnage will probably be good for around $50 million this weekend, maybe a little more, but however it’s received, I expect it to drop significantly next week, though a total domestic gross of $135 to 140 million seems reasonable.

Another strong sequel to kick off October is the animated THE ADDAMS FAMILY II (MGM), which is following up the 2019 hit for MGM/UA Releasing with most of the voice cast returning, including Oscar Isaac, Charlize Theron, Chloe Grace Moretz, and Finn Wolfhard, as well as Nick Kroll, Snoop Dogg, Martin Short, Catherine O’Hara, and Bette Midler voicing the popular characters from the New Yorker cartoons, a popular ‘60s TV series, and two Barry Sonnenfeld movies from the ‘90s.

The 2019 animated film was a pretty solid hit for the newly-launched UA Releasing, grossing $100 million domestic after a $30.3 million opening, making it one of MGM’s biggest hits since it was restructured under UA and became its own distributor again. Who knows what’s going to happen with Amazon’s plans on buying MGM and whether the latter will remain a distribution wing, but MGM still has a number of movies out this year that likely will be awards contenders. But that doesn’t mean much for The Addams Family II, which will try to get some of those people who paid to see the original movie in theaters back to see the sequel… and if they’re not going to theaters, MGM is once again offering the movie day-and-date on VOD much like they did with last year’s Bill and Ted Face the Music, which opened much earlier in the pandemic (late august, 2020), so it far fewer options to see it in theaters compared to this animated sequel.

It’s highly doubtful that The Addams Family II was going to open anywhere near to $30 million even if there wasn’t a pandemic, and it wasn’t on VOD just because MGM just doesn’t seem to be marketing the movie as well as its predecessor. You can blame COVID if you want, but it’s also the fact they’re distributing the company’s first James Bond movie in six years, No Time To Die, on their own vs. through another distributor, ala the last few Daniel Craig Bonds. But we’ll talk more about that next week, since that’s going to be an important movie to help cover MGM’s expenses for the rest of 2021. (I haven’t had a chance to see this yet, but it’s embargoed until Friday, so wouldn’t be able to get a review into the column regardless.)

We’ve seen quite a few family hits over the past few months even when the movies were already on streaming/VOD, but parents are probably being a bit more careful with kids back in school, many younger kids still not vaccinated, and the Delta variant still not quite under control. Because of those factors, I think The Addams Family II is more likely to do somewhere between $15 and 18 million its opening weekend, maybe more on the lower side.

Third up is THE MANY SAINTS OF NEWARK (New Line/WB), David Chase’s prequel to his hit HBO series, The Sopranos, which went off the air in 2004 but still finds fans on the new HBO Max streamer. Ironically, this prequel will air on the streamer at the same time as it's getting a theatrical release, which probably won't be a very tough choice for fans.

Chase has reunited with director Alan Taylor, who won a Primetime Emmy for his work on the show in 2007 before moving onto other popular shows like HBO's Game of Thrones. Taylor has had a bit of a rough career in film, though, having directed Marvel Studios’ sequel, Thor: The Dark World, a movie that wasn't received very well although there were rumors that Taylor butted heads with the producers and maybe didn't even finish the movie. He went on to direct Terminator Genesys, which honestly, I can't remember if it was the worst Terminator movie, but it was pretty bad.

What's interesting is that because this is a prequel set in the '70s and '80s, none of the actors from the show appear on it, but it does star Alessandro Nivola, a great actor in one of his meatiest roles for a studio movie. It also introduces Michael Gandolfini, son of the late James Gandolfini (who played Tony Soprano, if you didn't know), playing the teenage Tony, plus it has great roles for the likes of Jon Bernthal (as Tony's father), Vera Farmiga (playing Tony's mother), Corey Stoll (playing the younger "Junior” Soprano), and Lesile Odom Jr, as the Sopranos key adversary, even though he ends up coming across like the good guy of the movie. It also stars Billy Magnussen, who oddly, also has a key role in next week's No Time to Die.

I'm sure there's quite a bit of interest in seeing where Tony came from and to learn more about his family, many who were dead long before the events of the HBO show, but will that be enough to get them into theaters when they already have HBO? I already reviewed the movie for Below the Line, and reviews are generally positive, which might get people more interested in this prequel.

As with most of Warner Bros’ movies this year, Many Saints will also debut on HBO Max and unlike some of the studio’s other 2021 offerings, it will actually make more sense to watch this one on the streamer since that’s how most people watched The Sopranos. That seems like a killer for Many Saints, and it’s likely to keep it opening under $10 million, where it might have done better on a different weekend (like sometime over the last two weeks).

This is what I have this weekend’s top 10 looking like:

1. Venom: Let There Be Carnage (Sony) - $50.4 million N/A

2. The Addams Family II (MGM/UA Releasing) - $16.5 million N/A

3. The Many Saints of Newark (New Line/WB) - $9 million N/A

4. Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (Marvel/Disney) - $7.5 million -44%

5. Dear Evan Hansen (Universal) - $4.1 million -45%

6. Free Guy (20th Century/Disney) - $3.3 million -30%

7. Jungle Cruise (Disney) - $1.1 million -35%

8. Candyman (Universal) - $1.3 million -48%

9. Cry Macho (Warner Bros.) - $1 million -52%

10. Malignant (Warner Bros.) - .7 million -53%

Opening in select cities is French filmmaker Julia (Raw) Ducournau’s TITANE (Neon), the genre thriller that won this year’s coveted Palme D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. It stars Agathe Rouselle as a young woman who has an interesting relationship with automobiles, but she also has psychotic tendencies that leaves a trail of bodies behind her. On the run, she decides to pretend she’s the missing son of a fireman (Vincent Lindon), who has been missing for 10 years, and things just get weirder from there.

I honestly wasen’t sure what to expect from this although I do remember walking out of Ducournau’s cannibal movie, Raw, just because it was so gross, even though so many of my colleagues and friends swear by the movie, and this one, for that matter. Sure, there’s a certain “prove it” factor to me watching a movie that wins the Palme D’Or, because it’s very rare that I like the movies that do win that benchmark cinema award.

After a flashback to Agathe’s character Alexia when she was an obstinate young girl kicking the back seat of her father as he’s driving. They crash and she’s forced to get surgery that puts an odd looking piece of metal in her head. Decades later, she seems to be a pseudo-stripper at weird punk rock car show -- I guess they do those things different in France -- and hooking up with a fellow “model” afterwards. Agathe is actually a very popular model/dancer but when one fan gets too grabby, she pulls a knitting needle out of her hair and stabs it through his ear, killing him. Oh, yeah, she then has sex with a car and seemingly gets pregnant, but that only happens later. First, she goes on a bit of a killing spree and then goes on a run and decides that by strapping up her breasts and breaking her nose, she can pass off this fire captain’s son… and it works!

So the second half deals with acting great Vincent Lindon’s absolutely bonkers steroid-addicted man who seems to be sexually attracted to his own son, and most of his fellow firefighters knows that he’s gay but in the closet, but I’m honestly not sure what that matters. He’s a pretty disgusting character whose 70-year-old ass we see way too much of, and even those who might find Rouselle to be quite fetching, there’s a certain point where her nudity is not alluring but quite horrifying.

Oh, and at this time, Alexia (or Adrien, as she’s now going) has also gotten significantly pregnant, but it’s not a normal pregnancy because what should be milk from her breasts seems to some sort of motor oil. That’s because she FUCKED A CAR earlier in the movie!!! What do you expect when you fuck a car and don’t use protection, girlie? The fact Alexia/Adrien is trying to hide the fact she’s a pregnant woman from a station full of men isn’t even particularly disturbing. The part that really got me was when she broke her own nose to pass off as this guy’s son -- I actually had to look away for that part.

Listen I’m no prude, and I think I can handle most things in terms of horror and gore, but Titane just annoyed me, because it felt like Ms Ducournau was doing a lot of what we see more for shock value than to actually drive the story forward. There just doesn’t seem to be much point to any of it, and once the movie gets to the firehouse, and we see her interaction (as a young man) with her “father” and his colleagues, it just gets more grueling.

It’s as if Ducournau had watched a lot of movies by the likes of Cronenberg or David Lynch, or more likely Nicolas Refn or Lars von Trier, and thought, “I could be just as strange and horrific as those men… let’s see what people think of this.” And way too many people fell for it, including the Cannes jury. While I normally would approve of any good body horror movie, especially one with cinematography, score and musical selections as good as this one, I doubt I’d ever want to watch this movie again. And therefore, I don’t think I can recommend this movie to anyone either, at least no one I want to remain my friend.

As far as the movie’s box office, NEON is opening the movie in 562 theaters to build on buzz from various film festivals, including the New York Film Festival earlier this week. I think it should be good for half a million this weekend, although maybe it'll surprise me like NEON's release of Parasite a few years back. I just don't see this getting into the top 10 but maybe just outside it.

And then we have a few more movies that I got screeners for but just couldn’t find the time to watch, but might do so once I finish this verdammt column.

The faith-based doc THE JESUS MUSIC (Lionsgate) by the Erwin Brothers (I Can Only Imagine, I Still Believe) takes a look at the rise of Christian Contemporary Music through artists like Amy Grant and Stryper and everything in between, featuring lots of interviews of the artists’ trials and triumphs. Even though there isn’t much CCM I ever listen to, I’m still kind of curious about this one, since I generally like music docs and this is guaranteed not to be the sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll of most of them. I have no idea how wide Lionsgate intends to release this but it certainly can be fairly wide, because the Erwins have delivered at least one giant hit for Lionsgate, and I Still Believe may have been another one if not for the pandemic. It actually opened on March 13, just days before movie theaters shut down across the country, so it's little surprise it only made $7 million domestic. That said, the acts in this one have a lot of fans, and if Lionsgate does release The Jesus Music into 1,000 theaters or so (which is very doable), then I would expect it would make between $1 and 2 million, which would be enough to break into the Top 10.

I haven't seen any of the movies based on Anna Todd's YA romance novels but the third of them, AFTER WE FELL, will play in about 1,311 theaters on Thursday i.e. tonight through Fathom Events, and may or may not continue through the weekend. These movies just kind of show up, and again, having not seen any of them, I'm not sure what kind of audience they have, but this one stars Josephine Langford and Hero Fiennes, as well as Stephen Moyer, Mira Sorvino and Arielle Kebbel with Castille Landon directing.

Grace Van Patten (Under the Silver Lake) stars in Karen Cinorre’s action-fantasy film MAYDAY (Magnolia), playing Ana, a young woman who is transported to a “dreamlike and dangerous” coastline where she joins a female army in a never-ending war where women lure men to their deaths. It also stars Mia Goth, Havana Rose Liu, Soko, Théodore Pellerin and Juliette Lewis. It will be in theaters and On Demand this Friday.

The great Tim Blake Nelson stars in Potsy Ponciroli’s action-Western OLD HENRY (Shout! Studios/Hideout) about a widowed farmer and son who take in an injured man with a satchel full of cash only to have to fend off a posse who come after the man, claiming to be the law. Not sure who to trust, the farmer has to use his gun skills to defend his home and the stranger.

The romantic-comedy FALLING FOR FIGARO (IFC Films) is the new movie from Australian filmmaker Ben Lewin (The Sessions), who I’ve interviewed a few times, and he’s a really nice chap. This one stars Danielle Macdonald, Hugh Skinner, and Joanna Lumley, and it will be in theaters and On Demand this Friday. This rom-com is set in the world of opera singing competitions with Macdonald playing Millie, a brilliant young fund manager who decides to chase her dream of being an opera singer in the Scottish Highlands. She begins vocal training lessons with a former opera diva, played by Lumley, where she meets Max, a young man also training for that competition. Could love blossom? This actually sounds like my kind of movie, so I’ll definitely try to watch soon.

The second season of “Welcome to Blumhouse” the horror movie anthology kicks off on Amazon Prime Video on Friday with the first two movies, Maritte Lee Go’s Black as Night (which I’ve seen) and Gigi Saul Guerrero’s Bingo Night (which I haven’t), and actually I’ll have an interview with Ms. Go over at Below the Line possibly later this week. The former stars Ashja Cooper as a teen girl living in Louisiana who has a bad experience with homeless vampires, along with her best friend (Fabrizio Guido).

Also, Antoine Fuqua and Jake Gyllenhaal’s remake of the Danish film THE GUILTY will begin streaming on Netflix starting Friday after premiering at TIFF a few weeks back. I never got around to reviewing it, but it’s pretty good, maybe a little better than the original movie but essentially the same. I’d definitely recommend it if you like Jake, because he’s definitely terrific in it.

Also hitting Netflix this week is Juana Macias' SOUNDS LIKE LOVE (Netflix), a Spanish language romance movie that (guess) I haven't seen!

A few other movies I didn’t get to this week, include:

STOP AND GO (Decal) VAL (Dread) BLUSH (UA Releasing) RUNT (1091 Pictures)

Next week, it’s not time for James Bond, it’s time for James Bond to die… no, wait… there is NO TIME TO DIE! Also, a very, very special anniversary for the Weekend Warrior….

#The Weekend Warrior #Venom: Let There Be Carnage #Many Saints of Newark #Addams Family II #movies #review #box office #reviews #The Jesus Music #Titane

[druddigoon]

SwSh Scraps

[leon&hop. an examination of the dysfunctional, adulation-based relationship of brothers, from the perspective of the older brother who’s always gone]

Leon was in a commercial shoot when his brother was born. 

Phones weren’t allowed in the studio; Oleana, pin-straight and proper, stood sentinel outside with his in her hands. 

“Congratulations,” she had said, handing it to him. “you’re a brother.” 

Leon stared. On the screen was the puckered face of a newborn baby, swaddled in stark hospital linens. Dark hair, olive skin, little button nose--he would’ve thought it was one of those awkward baby pictures his mum hung around if not for the text on the bottom: You’re a big brother now, Lee!

He scrolled down his notifications. 5 missed calls. 

“Come on,” Oleana’s hand was choking on his back. “We need to fly you to a conference in five minutes. You can call later tonight.”

“Rose is a better father than you ever were!” a younger Leon screamed, voice cracking at the edges. Rose didn’t police his bedtime or judge his choice of breakfast foods, Rose bought him everything he wanted; Rose was the reason he was here instead of working a dead-end job in a backwater town, not her. 

“Lee?” Hop’s voice, deeper than he last remembered and cracking at the edges. It takes him a second to recognize it. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?” 

“Hop. I’ve cleared my schedule for the weekend. Tell your mum I’ll be arriving in Wedgehurst on Saturday, in the afternoon, maybe later if the train runs late. I’m--”

I’m coming home.

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

[piers&marnie. the second installment of the darkest day au, which i actually plan on returning to since it’s near and dear to my heart]

Spikemuth is a city of elegies. 

She wears them like anchors, the fading note of a once illustrious mining boom, now home to families with nowhere else to go; everyone carries a little bit of her burden, tragedies wormed under haggard skin, between rusted chain-link fences and across boarded up doors with holes for handles. Shared secrets too volatile to taste air. 

For Marnie, the tragedy is this: 

Piers never wanted to be a gym leader. 

She remembers her bro’s face inked across the headlines of the Daily Galar, a younger Piers wearing his uniform and a smile and short hair with no shadows beneath his eyes.

I’m very grateful to have the privilege of representing Spikemuth here, her bro was cited as saying, And I’m thankful for everyone there who has supported me through thick and thin. Especially my sister, Marnie. 

Finalist contender--she’d watched fraying tape records of the matches, up until his defeat at the hands of the champion. He still has his badges, golden plate propped up in a display case in his office, along with his league pictures; every year, he takes it out to polish. 

The gym challenge was popular, the crown jewel of the Galar region. And everyone loved the underdog, a contestant in battered hand-me-downs and legs too long for his body, who fought as if the crowd was his rhythm, who swept through the competition without a single dynamax. His notoriety gave Spikemuth a much needed boost, and companies began investing again, seeing promise in these run-down streets like they eyed the boy streaking through the circuit. 

 When her bro lost, he returned home a hero.

The thing about challenger fame is that it never lasts. The gym challenge resets every year, bringing in a fresh wave of contestants drawn by the distant possibility of glory, who will fight and hurt and lose to try and rise up on top. Soon enough, everyone fades into obscurity. 

And Spikemuth did too. Investment dried up. Infrastructure deteriorated. Nothing lasted forever, and back then, the city seemed to be nearing its twilight years. 

Marnie remembers the day Rose knocked on their door, remembers the towering man wielding showy words like “vacancy” and “opportunity” from her hiding spot behind her bro’s legs, how he presented the offer like gift but discussed terms like debt. 

Somewhere along their negotiations, her bro was crowned gym leader. 

They didn’t have a dynamax spot, couldn’t even afford a gym, but after her bro’s candidacy was announced everyone threw a huge potluck in his honor--pooled their savings for a new microphone stand and speaker system, after his old one wore down. 

When her bro sang, his music reverberated into the audience like hope. 

Once they’re alone again, Piers had slumped against a creaky chair, pulled out a cigarette and lit it with shaking hands. Marnie remembers yanking the package from his fingers, taking note of the brand--the same one their late father used. 

“Since when did you smoke?” She asked. 

Piers had smiled bitterly. “Not too frequently, though I’ve been gettin’ a habit lately. Sorry you have to see this, little sis.” 

He took a drag before exhaling. The smoke billowed out like miasma, rising into the darkened sky. Another followed, then another, until she couldn’t tell the difference between cloud and smoke.

“Bein’ a gym leader is no easy feat, and I doubt I have the stuff for it,” Her bro finished his cig, flicking it onto the streets, “But what else can I do? This old place needs somethin’.” 

He was Spikemuth’s hero, and Spikemuth was his burden. 

Marnie remembers lingering on the cig, watching embers unfurl against cold hard concrete, before they flickered out.  

When Marnie opens the door, she hardly recognizes her brother standing outside alone, soaked to the bone, hair slick against his head and looking like the wind would blow him over. To her, big bro was always the person who stood by her, who could lift the world for her on days when she’s too weak to stand, who could shelter her when she was nothing but dark clouds and rain. 

But part of growing up is realizing the people you look up to are not perfect, have their own chips and cracks in their armor. Big bro is the boy who used to throw her up in the air even when it hurt his arms, slip her candy when their parents weren’t looking; Big bro is also the teen who would be protective to the point of suffocation, the forlorn man beyond her steps with a plea in his eyes. 

"We only have each other," Piers murmurs.

Marnie closes her eyes. His hair is just like she remembers: soft and frizzy and just a little bit stiff from the hair products, the faint whiff of his favorite dollar store cologne he'd always had stocked up. Cold, clammy skin, but she can feel the press of his heartbeat amid the quiet rumble of his voice; and like modulation she's six again, curled up in the contour of her brother's arms as he sings her storms away.

She takes a deep breath. Steels herself. 

Then she pushes him, hard.

"Idiot!" Someone's yelling. Is it her? She recognizes her voice but not the raw, seething edges of her words, the staccato hitch at the ends. "Y-you've been leadin' a city since I was in primary, and when other people need you most the only thing you think about is us? Were those years, was-does this legacy you passed down to me mean anything to you?"

Piers manages to steel himself before his ass hit concrete (or maybe the push wasn't as hard as she thought, some sentimental part of her holding back). He's not mad. It's somehow worse. "Not all people need or want the same thing, achievable things, Marn. It means I've learned to pick my battles."

And the battle he fights is against me.

#drudwrites #leon pokemon #hop pokemon #marnie pokemon #piers pokemon #marnie and piers one actually has a pretty complex plot that's hard to summarize #so snippets taken out of context might sound weird #tl;dr they had a big fight #different priorities #different misunderstandings

[cremationwings]

Three Months Before Purge Night

CW: Death Implied/Mentioned

AO3 Link

-

“Everyone in their seats,” Aizawa says as he walks to the front, setting down a folder.

The class listens and in five seconds were in their seats. Aizawa looks around the class and opens his folder and presses a button. In big words ‘PURGE NIGHT’ appeared on the board, catching everyone’s attention. They look at their homeroom teacher, wondering where he was going with this. Would he ban them from purge night? Many already argued that futures heroes and heroes should not participate.

But purge night is for everyone. No one can prevent who is involved, only those who are protected and what age one can participate.

“Classes will end soon and you’ll be starting your breaks soon. Again, let us know if you’ll be staying on campus. Onto the business of what’s on the board. We all know about the annual purge. Only two countries participate in this, which is Japan and the United States,” Aizawa explains and has Aoyama to pass out a piece of paper for the class, “And you are all as of now, sixteen. You are now able to participate in this year’s purge.”

“Mr. Aizawa?”

“Yes, Iida?”

“I thought the age was fifteen. Why has it been raised?” Iida asks as he looks at the piece of paper, which contained information.

“The Hero Commission changed it just last month. I have no idea why,” Aizawa sighs and looks at the board, “Purge night is in one month. If you are to participate, I need to know.”

“But why? The point of purge night is to well, kill,” Sero says confused.

“U.A. will be on lockdown. We are under government protection. Not even villains can step in here, which is a small number. So I need to know who will be off campus. You don’t have to say now, but I would like to know before the end of the week. I will keep it anonymous unless you decide to tell the class.”

The class look at each other, wondering who of their class will participate. This is something big for everyone. Midoriya sighs as he looks at the piece of paper in front of him, staring at the rules and regulations the commission had in place.

This is a tense moment. It’s a decision that can affect many lives. Ever since the surprising death of All for One, the downfall of the Liberation Army and disbandment of the League of Villains, so much has changed. Everything is different now. While the number of villains is low now, it doesn’t mean their inexistent.

The annual purge was something he really didn’t believe in either. It’s something that was created to control the overpopulation they have at the moment, as well as to deal with the poor. It was hard to deny. Midoriya hated the idea of it, but what can he do? He’s only a high school kid who’s lived through six annual purge nights.

That’s when Midoriya got an idea. It’s silly and it may not even work. Yet, it could be great for their training. Hell, they may be able to end purge night as well or start a revolution. It may cost lives, on their side or the other, but it would be the start of it.

“You’re mumbling, dipshit.”

Midoriya looks in front of him, Bakugo glaring at them. Midoriya sheepishly apologizes, Bakugo just grumbling. Aizawa let the class have free time for now, seeing as all day today was dedicated to learning about the purge. Bakugo turns to Midoriya, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you scheming?” Bakugo asks him, the class chattering away.

Their relationship still wasn’t the best, but they were equals in a manner. They both now respected each other, and they fought together when needed. They wouldn’t say they are best friends, but acquaintances who have each other’s backs.

Okay, maybe friends but neither would admit to it.

“About purge night.”

“You’re participating?” Bakugo frowns, not expecting this from the freckled boy.

“In a sense,” Midoriya says in a low voice to not be heard by those around him, “You and I know the real reason why we even have this night. The elites control this.”

“Well duh, I’m not a dumbass like you,” He scoffs, turning around full to face him, “But what can we do about it?”

“Join forces,” Midoriya grins, making even Bakugo feel cold, “I’ll explain it later. I wouldn’t want Aizawa to hear this.”

“What are you talking about?” Mineta asks and looks at the two boys.

“Nothing,” They both say, glaring at him hard enough to make him scatter.

School day ended and the class was quiet as they returned to their dorms. As the final student entered, Midoriya turns to Bakugo. They both nod and Bakugo releases a few fireworks to get everyone’s attention. Midoriya clears his throat and looks at his class, setting down his backpack. They all look at him confused, wondering what this is about. Did he injure himself again?

“We should participate in the purge,” Midoriya says out loud.

Crickets. Just crickets. Nothing else. Everyone went through various stages of shock, staring at the two boys who stood there confident.

Then chaos. There was screaming, shouting, questions, comments, everything. Midoriya and Bakugo sigh and expected this. They let them continue until they all quiet down, which took five minutes.

“Why?” Iida asks, looking at them as if they grew two heads, “Such a statement should not be made lightly!”

“Iida is right,” Yaoyorozu speaks next, “What’s your reason?”

“Iida, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, please don’t take this wrong,” Midoriya starts off, “But-“

“The elites and rich control the fucking purge and it’s the poor who suffer the most,” Bakugo says bluntly, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not rich, neither am I poor. However, it doesn’t mean I’m blind to class inequality. They say it’s due to overpopulation, which is both true and false. It is also to get rid of the poor.”

The class stays quiet to process the information, and to also process that Bakugo gave facts while cursing only once. He also didn’t yell, which is very surprising. The three students who were called out blink and think of what he said. Yes, they are the three richest in the class and their families play big parts when it comes to heroes. But that doesn’t mean they are to blame.

“We are not blaming you,” Midoriya states as if he could read their minds, “But the upper classes play a big part. No one here is blaming you, but we all have to open our eyes and think about this. Why should they be in control of this night? Why should they be excluded? Everyone should be included if we want this to be fair! Overpopulation will always be a problem, but many of this recent generation are not even having kids. They are too focused on hero work or their own lives!

And overpopulation will always be here no matter what we do. If this was the real reason as to why we have this night, then this should have been implemented since the beginning of quirks arose. There is so much that can be done and of course we can’t change it in one night, it may take us years and many more of these nights. That doesn’t mean we can’t start now!”

They all stare at Midoriya as he was now standing on a chair. They were all too surprised to speak. They never expect the boy who dreamt of saving people to now suggest killing.

“Wouldn’t this affect the school as well?” Tsuyu asks, looking at the two, “The school falls under the protection of the government. Doing this would endanger the students and teachers.”

“We thought of this as well,” Bakugo looks at them, “While we want everyone included, schools should still have protection. We are still trying to decide if it should fall under government protection and if that means including all hero schools. As of now, only the top three schools have protection under the government.”

It was still silent between everyone, the room tense now by what he stated. They can’t deny what he said. They’re both too smart to argue against. Midoriya was starting to think he won’t get support from how quiet the room was.

Until.

“I’ll join you,” Todoroki states, hand raised and looks at Midoriya, “I’ll be there.”

“What?” Midoriya looks at him with wide eyes, Bakugo just as surprised.

“The commission has to change. I overhear conversations between my father and the commission. There needs to be a system change. You’re right,” Todoroki stood straight as he spoke, “And if there is one thing the commission hates, is saving people during that night. That night is dedicated to killing, not saving. I can gather any information you need.”

Midoriya smiles at Todoroki, one of his really good friends, nodding. He looks at Bakugo, who shrugs and writes down his name.

“I’m in too,” Kirishima states hand raised, “It’ll be unmanly to accept what the commission does. As all you bros stated, we need to change this!”

“Count me in,” Iida says, pushing his glasses up as the class turned to him, “If I want to be a hero, it starts off with seeing what’s wrong in this system.”

“Same here,” Yaoyorozu nods, her cheeks a little pink from her nerves, “Write me down. I can support financially and with documents if needed.”

“The darkness will join in.”

“Hell yeah, dudes! Us too!”

“I’ll make sure we are stocked on energy bars during the twelve hours!”

“We have to go to Hatsume later so she can make some changes in my support items!”

“We’re really doing this?”

“For a good reason.”

Midoriya was an smiles, watching as his classmates conversarte about the night. He steps down the chair, Bakugo writing down everyone’s name. He looks at him and just smiles, making the blond just roll his eyes and slaps the journal on his chest.

“That is so fucking stupid!” A voice shrills out.

19 heads turn to look down at the young purple classmate, who stared at them in shock. None are surprised that he objects and it kills the mood in the room. They just sigh and Kaminari speaks first.

“Just say you don’t want to participate is all. No one is forcing you, dude.”

“Kaminari, I thought you were better than this. Joining in something so useless!” Mineta looks up at the teen, “How do we even know this is not some plot so Midoriya can kill us?”

“Because I am not like you,” Midoriya speaks up, walking over and stands in front of Mineta, “I don’t give up at the sight of danger. You can stay here on purge night if you’d like. I won’t force anyone to join me. Is that clear enough for your small brain?” Midoriya asks and raises an eyebrow.

Mineta just stays quiet and stomps away, still shrilling about how the idea was stupid. They just roll their eyes and all turn to Midoriya and Bakugo.

“So we’re going to be vigilantes essentially?” Sato asks, looking at who they now consider leaders.

“Exactly, sounds badass too,” Bakugo smirks and looks at him, “We are going to tear down the system and blow it the fuck up.”

“We’re going to fuck shit up,” Midoriya says, a grin on his face.

The class goes wild with his declaration and that he cursed. He rarely curses if ever. Midoriya just laughs and looks at his class, feeling a range of emotions. This was going to be big, and they will make their statement known.

“What do we do first to get ready?” Uraraka asks through the sea of noise.

“We need to get our support items registered for purge night. They only allow three that have to deal with our quirks. Anything else is free range. Kacchan, we’ll have to see what we do about your quirk. Explosives fall under weapons class four,” Midoriya explains, flipping through the pages of his journal, “Outfits too. It has to be something that can’t be tied to our hero uniforms. Then we may need masks. It’s best to cover our face so no one sees we’re hero students.”

“Who will we be going after?” Jiro asks, lightly tugging on her earjacks, “We have to be careful that no children are harmed.”

“Except dicks,” Kaminari mumbles.

“Kacchan and I made a list,” Midoriya explains and lets Bakugo explain.

“We can’t go above level ten government, meaning the hero commission board and the ministry. However, they never said anything of those who work for them. They are not level ten. Also, there are no rules of going against heroes. Some are corrupt and I’m just saying, no one will miss them.”

“We’ll kill heroes?” Hagakure asks, hand seeming to go to her mouth based on her glove position.

“Only if necessary,” Midoriya shrugs, walking towards the common room, “I say severely harm. Whatever happens to them happens.”

“How will we know who is who? I’m sure they’ll be in disguise,” Sero points out and sits on the ground.

“I’ve got that ready too. What? I’m a hero fan and I like to analyze quirks. This isn’t my first rodeo,” Midoriya rolls his eyes.

They spend the rest of the day explaining what the plan is and who they’ll go after. Todoroki may have been pleased that Endeavor was number three on the list of who to go after.

Aizawa just smirks as he overheard everything, shaking his head. He’s not at all surprised that Midoriya and Bakugo are leading the charge. Besides, not like he’s innocent as well. He too will participate in the purge.

This purge year will be very interesting.

#midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #momo yaoyorozu #iida tenya #uraraka ochako #tsuyu asui #denki kaminari #sero hanta #kirishima eijirou #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha writing #cw death mention #cw death implied