#he's self shipping again get the hose

[postwarlevi]

Firefighter

Content: HC format of volunteer firefighter Jean and reader meeting and becoming a couple! 2.1k words oops that was a lot please enjoy!

a/n- Inspired by a self ship idea and heeeere's the amazing artwork by @charlotteplsdosth that also helped inspired this story by the amazing thank you so much!

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

Jean has been doing odd jobs while getting his associate degree in business. He isn't sure exactly what he wants to pursue after that. His best friend and classmate Marco talks about volunteering and they both take a day to go to the local fire department.

They talk to the captain of the station and are given instructions and a massive packet of papers to go through of all the requirements.

Jean looks it over for a few days, seeing there's written and physical exams, courses that equal over 400 hours total that include things like basic knowledge of health and safety, search and rescue, water and hoses, being CPR trained, and things he never thought of like understanding building construction for getting people out, and also being a trained paramedic and learning to use SCUBA gear, among other things.

After a week of thinking it over both he and Marco put in their applications and get started, and they are busier then ever.

Jean is exhausted and determined and somehow finds time to fit everything in and in a couple months he and Marco join the station and continue the last bit of their training on the job, both passing with flying colors and in six months total join the team.

They don't get paid much as it's volunteer work but they find they love it. Most days are quiet or it's non emergency calls that can easily be handled.

Jean quietly has a mini breakdown one day though after the team is unable to salvage a family home that went up in flames. The people are okay but they lost all their things.

The station holds a town fundraiser to help them get on their feet again, and Jean and Marco are leading the way, wanting to continue their work.

After a year, they both sign up for another year and Jean is entering the the second year of his degree.

It's a quiet day at the station when Marco on dispatch gets a call from a frantic woman about a cat stuck in a tree.

He goes to say this isn't something they can really send someone out for but since it's a slow day, Jean motions to him it's okay, and Marco finds out the address while Jean listens in then takes a car and ladder and heads out.

That's the first time he meets you, crying at the mewing cat far up in a tree on your front lawn.

He almost laughs at the sight but contains himself for your sake. The cat will be fine.

You rush over to him and he pats your back and introduces himself and starts up to retrieve your cat.

You watch in both awe and distress as he takes this seriously and handles it much better than you have.

45 minutes later he finally gets the very uncooperative animal down and hands it back to you, almost breaking a sweat on that warm day.

You thank him and insist he come inside and get him a drink and a light meal and tell him you'll keep a better eye on your cat.

Soon Jean has to be getting back and you find after getting to know him maybe you don't want him to leave.

You ask more questions and he tells you of a food drive they are holding this Saturday and you ask if you can come and help.

Jean was secretly hoping that's where this was leading.

So it begins, first with the food drive, then with an open station tour, where Jean greets you and introduces you to Marco.

The event is for families and kids and you've borrowed your little cousin as an excuse to come. While Marco entertains her, Jean entertains you.

Soon you are going to events outside the station. Walks in the park, dinner, movies, late night texting sessions when you should both be asleep, getting to know each other more.

As much as Jean works, volunteers and studies, he makes time for you as an important part of his life.

He knows your work schedule by heart and soon you are getting little presents of flowers and other sweet things delivered both to your work and to your house.

Before his next year of volunteering is up you've moved to a deeper relationship, exchanging I love you's.

One day he tells you he doesn't know what he wants to do with his life and you spend the night talking again.

Though you worry about him when he's at the station, because while most calls are minor, some are very much not, you see he loves being a firefighter.

With you being a big supporting factor, he makes the decision to finish his degree, knowing it will be there for future use, cut down on the odd jobs, and become a full time firefighter.

A few months later, the week before he is set to have his induction ceremony, he asks if you want to look for a place together, knowing he wants to be with you.

Turns out you've been thinking of it too, and you start looking right away.

At his ceremony with the other inductees, including Marco and some friends they've made at the station along the way, you are there cheering Jean on with his mom and dad, your mom, dad and little cousin, and some other friends.

Jean has asked to go last and with his comrades help he sets his plan in motion, gets you on stage with him, and in his best suit in tie, hair slicked back, gets down on one knee and presents you with an engagement ring, if you'll have him.

You are sobbing and enthusiastically agree. You hug and kiss and the crew and people in attendance cheer you so loudly that the surrounding neighborhood hears it.

Within a month Jean now has his degree and you've found a place you both love and have moved in with your cat and a stray dog that someone found hanging around the station that Jean has been taking care of.

It's not long before you have a wedding, two in fact, both in one day. One early at the station with his team and friends where they wear their uniforms, except Marco, who has a tux on like Jean, being the best man. The captain of the station gives you away, and your dog is the ring bearer.

Jean then drives you to the second event in one of the fire engines that's decorated for the occasion. It's not a far drive but people honk and cheer and you both wave out the window.

Everyone is already present, both sets of parents front and center, and the rest of your family and friends, for a sweet, somewhat small barnyard wedding, that's perfect for the event and a reception.

Jean takes his place at the front with his best man Marco and his groomsmen who have walked in just before with the maid of honor and bridesmaids.

You come in, same dress as before, still leaving Jean with tears in his eyes as your father meets you and walks you down the aisle to Jean.

You both get time off for your honeymoon and after that settle into a routine you both adore as husband and wife.

You love being able to be home when Jean gets off and having things ready for him to take it easy, especially if he's had a trying day. He appreciates it and there's days where he does the same for you.

Life continues, you worry about Jean still, especially when his team is called to drive north and help other firefighters battle a wildfire.

You know he has to go and hug and squeeze him and cry a little bit. He promises to check in and you and his mom will keep in contact.

You don't see him for five days. You watch the news that talks about the men and women suffering from smoke inhalation and exhaustion and are beside yourself and your boss grants you a leave for a few days at seeing your grief.

Jean checks in just a couple times a day, telling you to stop watching the news, and that he's okay.

Some days you drive to his parents house and spend time with his mom as you both try to not watch the news, waiting for updates.

You break down and watch the devastation happening not very far from you and cry when Marco texts you and says everyone is fine and coming home but Jean suffered from heat exhaustion from being on the front lines while giving other out of commission firefighters a break.

While you wait for them to drive back the news declares there's finally an end in sight to the fires and all the people that came to help made all the difference.

You are glad of course, but can't wait to see your husband.

Jean's parents give you space and will call tomorrow to check in, and you just sit and wait for another hour. Your dog is right by your side, feeling how tense you are.

You jump up when you hear a car door and bolt outside where Marco is helping Jean out of the car. He's had medical treatment but still needs a little recovery time.

You cry and rush to them and hug him as gently as you can while really wanting to squeeze him. Jean tears up too and strokes your hair and you and Marco help him inside.

You thank Marco and hug him as well before he leaves. Then it's time to pamper your husband. Anything he wants.

You praise him and tell him how proud you are, make him his favorite meals, set up baths for him, cuddle him at night, wait on him for two whole days.

Jean adores you and tells you he thought of you all the time and is sorry he didn't check in more and tells you after a couple days he's feeling pretty good now, but he doesn't mind if you still want to spoil him.

After another week off he's back on the job, again, mostly minor calls with his station.

Your anxiety calms down now that he's home, always there though. You make sure to kiss him and tell him you love him every morning before and after he leaves.

One day you are off and cooking at home and are chatting with a friend who has called and don't notice that maybe the stove burner is on too high.

Your fire alarm notices though and it starts blaring. You get the dog and cat away from the kitchen and after a minute are able to relatively safely remove the source of the problem, but it's smoky enough the alarm doesn't stop.

The fire station is alerted thanks to a town wide system of alarms being connected to the station in case people aren't able to call.

Marco realizes it's your address and notifies Jean who doesn't hesitate to get in a car and rush home.

You really have it under control but are a mess from the situation and cry from embarrassment when Marco brings out a fire engine with a couple other members of the team just in case.

Jean takes the rest of the day off and gets the house back in order and makes sure you're okay. He knows this isn't like you.

It turns out, you tell him that night, that you've been preoccupied, from your recent doctor visit results, because next year you will be having a baby.

Jean is ecstatic and dotes on you and accidently slips earlier then intended to the crew when he asks about taking a leave at some point for, reasons. They all want to take the new dad to be out to celebrate and he let's them but insists on shutting down early to go be with you at home.

Before the year ends you get together with other station members and their wives and you ladies come up with the idea of a sexy fireman calendar, for charity, of course, supporting the local animal shelter.

Some of the men take real convincing of this. Jean is confused too that you won't mind his picture being gawked at, but you tell him no one else can touch and it's for charity, so it's okay with you.

The day they take the pictures the wives show up and it's clear you are all having way to much fun with this.

Some of you even adopt some of the animals that are included that day, and the calendar becomes such a success that it's clear another edition will be coming out next year.

In the meantime you and Jean continue to get ready for the new little life you will soon bring into the world.

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

a/n - follow up part of the calendar for charity coming up soon!! Picking months and poses and participants. There's more guys then months, I'm so sorry I can't please everyone! LOL

#attack on titan #aot #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #modern au #jean fluff #jean x reader #jean headcanons #headcanon #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein headcanons

[iavenjqasdf]

Mech Pilot Story, part 1

All the girlies losing their shit over emaciated overstimulated barely-human mech pilots sparked something in me, so I'm back in the game. Let me know what you think, it's only gonna get worse (>:3c) from here.

Part 2 here!

INITIALIZING…

Every morning at exactly 0500, your consciousness respawns in a standing closet slash debridement chamber, usually the same one memory claims you entered 7 hours ago. A pilot’s downtime¹ consists of automated scans to check the repair state of its vessel’s various components, automatically dismantling those damaged beyond operational parameters, and grafting on replacements. Lengthier installations may require maintenance of consciousness for real-time feedback², but if a contract goes well and no major injuries are sustained, this is the only time you’re free to not think.

The sleep timer expires.

Released from the amniotic haze of stabilizing compounds, a sheet of plastic catches you, a hole stamped out of the facial region as a momentary blast of volcanic air seals the rest tight against your vessel. Despite the lingering narcotics, the process is painful, but the sight of undressed vessels is known to disturb the entry-levels, and allowing one to dress itself costs time which is money which is waste which is unacceptable. So they shrink-wrap you like an old cassette as you stumble back into the fray.

You are Antrum-Class Drone Pilot, designator V1C.

They’re letting you eat with the grounds again this season. A well-meaning reformist exec³ argued that the morale boost from pseudosocialization would increase uptime enough to offset the inefficiency of analog consumables. This pitch initially failed to wow the rest of the c-suite; the verdict was only recently appealed, after a self-automated virus scan on another ship ended up cutting their workforce by 80%⁴.

A pilot⁵ program was quickly implemented, but the compulsory executive recycling has long since taken place, organs refurbished and shuffled back into the wider supply, carcass dumped like any other unusable meat.

Mess hall. Daylight settings. Futuristic holo-steam trays⁶. A jingle over the comms reminds you that you're family and are loved. The food isn’t good and it never was, it’s just a pretense; if they have to keep treating you like them, they’ll let us keep a bit of our digestive system⁷. It’s equalizing; those who can’t afford the time off to manually consume usually have the whole thing pulled by the start of year two, the convenience fee adding another five to their metacontract.

Vessel 1-C finds an open seat and begins ingestion. It seemingly pulls from a different animation pool than the grounds; they exhibit group behaviors, conversing and gesturing and otherwise wallowing in the bounty of inefficiency they don't know they're immersed in. V1C opens jaw places matter in mouth closes jaw swallows repeats staring dead ahead all the while. You talk and eat out of the same hole; what sort of cruel joke is it that you're only allowed to do both at once?

Entering the galley automatically starts the countdown, and every second past the allotted 10 minutes is extraneous wear and will be docked from your pay. So eat quick like a good little soldier, then it’s back down the hall, side stairwell because the elevator’s been under a ransomware attack for months now⁸, fifth deck, past the armory⁹, until you arrive at the mech bays. A ground’s still hosing down the cockpits with disinfectant, chemical runoff oozing sickly green through the machines’ cracks and the floor grates and into the resanitizing pool from which he pumps.

V1C cannot afford to pay him any mind as it approaches the waste chute and pukes, wiping marbled ichor and carbpaste from its segmented lips with a sealed hand before the shrink wrap is removed and sent down to the incinerators too. Any foreign material inside the body is a vector for contamination; viruses of both analog and digital varieties will nucleate in the organic mass rotting in the dead end of your intestine and it only gets worse the further along it gets so you have to remove it as soon as you’re unpresentable.

It's a simple fact of science that no amount of politically-correct advocacy can change; you get what you need more directly from working in the machine, no need for archaic standards like calories.

Is it out of your system? Good. Bow your head¹⁰ as the needle clicks into the port on the back of your neck. A delicious cocktail of sedatives, psychotropics, yoga mat chemicals floods your neurons, dosed according to a constantly fluctuating formula using inputs pushed from the biometric harvesters they’d implanted with the regularity of streetlights along your body’s major transitways. Grounds only know a taste of this, their ration of coffee and antidepressants a childlike imitation of the shit they pump into you before each mission, like artificial blood, or embalming fluid.

Ice in your arteries, trying to claw its way out, but the limb’s grasp on your nape remains measured, pincer grip lifting you over the catwalk into your assigned cockpit. The seat flexes like a ladder of snakes, contouring to your precisely specced vessel, safety harnesses slither from their ports, crisscrossing your chest and sinking into your skin¹¹ to secure you in the cockpit and maintain telemetry.

You are now clocked in and ready to get to work.

Your vessel’s sensations and warning signs are an even lower priority now as consciousness rising along the network of nerve plugins until it refocuses over a black void, a crude low-poly approximation of your ship and its immediate surroundings floating in the center of your vision, basic textures mapped onto vectors snapping to and fro. The vendor came in cheap by using generations-old imaging datasets; some swear by the minimal interface, wear it as a badge of pride when they win battles against a better-equipped foe.

A fellow pilot you’d done orientation with, a timid but kind boy before all those attributes got rerolled, was bisected by something from the blind spot that comprises the viewport’s back, not realizing he could change his viewpoint without repositioning his whole body. Human error, the trickiest kind of bug to fix. No recyclables were found.

The generative text is tricky to parse in its specifics (is that the name of the celestial body or the hostile faction? What’s the difference, anyway?), but the briefing suggests a fairly routine mission. CONTACT, CLEAR and SECURE are all bolded and occupy the same areas of the verbal heatmap as always.

Don’t get bogged down in formalities; you’re here to go somewhere, kill everything that objects to your presence, then wait among the freshly-reclassified combatants' corpses to be collected at the end of your shift. If you finish early, you’re free to engage low-power mode, repurposing the viewport to watch old cartoons or microtransact new skins for yourself using your premium currency salary.

There's not much else to do in that static image, wireframe behemoth idling among piles of jagged geometry.

¹   Taken offline for scheduled maintenance

²   Relax your muscles. Squeeze. Too hard; regulatory dysfunction added to error log, running reinstallation wizard…

³   The first and currently last ex-pilot on the board

⁴   The cleanup took months, and most of the biomass wasn’t even recyclable.

⁵ Ha!

⁶   Blue LEDs

⁷   Use it or lose it!

⁸   The elevator’s been under a ransomware attack for months now, but it hasn’t been noticed in an official capacity yet, so it’s not broken

⁹   They keep legs and other exotic limbs there too

¹⁰  Keep your hair cropped near-bald for minimal interference

¹¹  Permeable, like the seal of a medicine vial

#📝 #mech pilot #v1c #guro #ero guro #spurge

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts at 230pm

Where do I begin....

I have a lot on my mind and little of it is good

I don't like dentists.

And let me tell you why....

When I was young... maybe 6 or 7, my father punched me hard in the mouth. Hard enough that my lower jaw moved in a way the upper jaw didn't. Hard enough that an abscess formed over an upper tooth. Hard enough that my lower teeth deformed pushing one front tooth behind the other at an angle.

My father was a big man who did construction his whole life, and was a raging alcoholic. I was a very frail, sickly little kid... his fist was about the size of my entire head.

Days later when I went to visit my mother, she saw that I couldn't speak, eat, and barely drink.

I don't think she called the police this time, other times she and teachers did... but this was the early 80s and well... even when I had bruises up and down my body, they wouldn't do anything about it.

So mom took me to a dentist.... not my usual one but one that could see me right now.

I sat in the chair... he grabbed my jaw and wiggled it and kept yelling at me to open my mouth more. I tried to explain that I couldn't, that it was locked, that the tendons and muscles were so swollen I couldn't move it....

He just berated me some more and then roughly grabbed my lower jaw and forced it open and to the left with a sickening POP!

I woke up minutes later.

I just remember the sound and then bright lights as he yelled at me more to wake up.

The pain was insane... to this day i'm not sure i've felt anything that hurt that bad. Not when I got run over by the truck, not when I fell into a burning building, not when I first got hit in the jaw.

He then shoved some stuff for xrays into my mouth that were sharp as hell... so sharp that the next round of yelling began because I started gushing blood from where they cut deep into my upper lip and the roof of my mouth.

It was pouring out so bad and I was crying, and they had to use the suction hose to stop me from choking on it.

Eventually mom came back to find out what the noise was, saw me covered in blood and took me home.

The next day I was still spitting up blood and couldn't even drink so my regular dentist saw me who ushered me into the next room where his partner the oral surgeon was.

I ended up getting a root canal, the abscess drained, and a ton of shots in my jaw. I was on pain pills and muscle relaxers and so much more for weeks after.

I never saw the dentist again.

----

Until now.

That tooth with the root canal cracked in half ... the front is just gone... the back is fine... but the front is gone.

I can't leave it like that so I'm going to see a dentist.

Not only do I have to deal with the overwhelming prior trauma... but you know... covid is still a thing.

Most of the dentists I called who accept my insurance all have open seating ... it's like going to a barber shop. Everyone's in the same room with just small partitions between you.

That's about as COVID safe as kissing everyone on a cruise ship after they dock.

So that's a no.

I did find one small place with good ratings who is nearby.... so ... wed I go in and will pay full price.

It'll be awful, it'll be expensive... and then I will come home and isolate from W. She'll take the front room, I'll take the back... no shared spaces or air. No shared bathrooms, or kitchens, or hallways... all self contained, with open windows and fans blowing and everything so we're not breathing the same air at all.

After 48-72hrs if no symptoms, I'll take a covid test and then 12 hrs later a 2nd one to see if anything pops. I don't want to do this... I don't want to risk this... I don't want to pay this.... I don't want ANY OF THIS.... We've gone this long without getting COVID... of taking almost no risks at all... now this! Sometimes you get over trauma... sometimes trauma follows you your entire life.

#thoughts

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Find the Word Tag Game

tagged by: @sleepyowlwrites!! my words: eventually, forgotten, acceptance, unfortunate, aspire, internal tagging: @sleepyowlwrites, @drippingmoon, @druidx, @ashen-crest, @drabbleitout, @zmwrites, anyone who wants to, and my Thriving series playlists, the third and fourth and sixth and seventh of which are still coming together nicely I think your words: chain, silence, speak, ghost, hold, spell

eventually (Rebirth)—

Thrive ushered Mataxa over to the rest of the group behind him as the ship's guns powered up under a loud, high-pitched whirring. The barrels glowed blinding blue, and with not a second to spare, he lifted a shield as a barrage of thundering shots rained down on them.

All Warren had the thought to do for some time was stare in awe at the sight of Thrive standing his ground against the onslaught from weapons designed to take down other whole spacecraft, face turned away, as if he was merely being pelted with water from a hose. The beams of energy splashed around him, dying anticlimactically in the air as they hit his barrier.

Eventually the ship's weapons overheated, powering down with a whine, smoke rising from the barrels.

Thrive's eyes, shadowed with focus, rose to the group. "Go," he ordered.

Without taking a moment to reconsider, Guetry scooped Mataxa into his arms, fleeing with everyone else into the forest.

forgotten (Rebirth)—

The main city was practically empty. Patchworks of new buildings had cropped up around the area, with nobody around to work on them. The foundation of what looked to be a new ship lay forgotten in the desert. The sun had already begun its descent in the sky.

Calen was the only one to greet them. When the shuttle opened, he helped Warren and Gouna onto solid ground again and addressed them solemnly as the strong breeze whipped their robes around.

"They haven't woken up yet."

Thrive stood frozen, his eyes cast toward the capital house. "I should have been here."

"Skies, your self-hatred waxes tiring," Gouna said curtly, on his way past Calen. "Come help me with supplies and tell me their symptoms."

acceptance (Aurora)—

Warren lay in bed, wide awake later that night. His chest hurt, his arm hurt, and he could feel every bruise on his battered body with extreme clarity. He couldn't get the image of Thrive overtaken by the Emmuli out of his head. The pleading and guilt in his eyes before the smoke enveloped him, the undeniable lack of any kind of empathy in his eyes as his fingers curled around his throat, the inky veins on his face…

Warren screwed his eyes shut to block out the sensation of their bond snapping like a brittle twig. He forced his brain not to think about how terrified Thrive possibly was in the moment before—

He sat up, rubbing his face with his good hand. He couldn't accept that he was gone forever. It wasn't going to end like that, couldn't end like that. They had too much history, too much future to end like that.

He wasn't going to lose the mirror image of his soul to this.

unfortunate (Meridian)—

"Do you have somewhere lined up?" Warren asked into the desk, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "I don't want you guys to end up like the poor qrihk."

"No," the dignitary said. "Nowhere will take us due to our history."

"Unfortunately I expected that. You can't live on a moon forever, it wouldn't be safe for you." Warren glanced out the window, where the skeletal remains of the ——— sat rusted and eroding. He caught sight of Oun chilling near the horizon, the very moon from which the dignitary was calling him, and he eyed Tournaltis' horizon with interest. "...What if you settled here?"

"What?"

Warren looked at Scot, who seemed surprised but unwilling to protest. "There's plenty of uninhabited space on Tournaltis. This city is the only place with civilization. You could live here, under Thrive's protection until you find somewhere else to go. Or...maybe live here permanently, depending on the circumstance."

aspire hope (Meridian)—

The corners of Sinkship’s mouth turned down as she tilted her head. “You seem to be under the impression that since he is King and your father, you have the right to speak to me however you please. I assure you that’s not the case.”

Thoeala’s dark eyes flashed with ire. “I’m under the impression that I spent several decades of my life cleaning up messes you made, simultaneously standing by while you bulldozed him out of doing what you dropped a crown on his head for doing when you didn’t have the means or the power to do it yourselves!”

Rytha bristled. “You ungrateful little—!”

“Ooh, I wouldn’t finish that sentence, Delegate.” Warren aimed a curt shake of the head at the viewscreen. “She’s also my daughter and I won’t be as diplomatic as she’s being right now about tearing you a new asshole.”

Rytha shoved himself away from the call, swearing up a storm in a regional Morrite language.

Sinkship sighed and folded her fingers over the table. “You are burning bridges none of you can afford to burn, I hope you’re aware.”

“And you’re pouring the goddamn gasoline,” Thoeala retorted.

internal (Rebirth)—

Thrive turned to Warren, who took the card and scrutinized it. "I'll take care of the acquisition. Make yourself more comfortable."

"Like a makeover?" Warren grinned.

"Sure," Thrive muttered, following Yara, who regaled him with trivia about the Node as they walked. Warren could tell he was unimpressed as early as ten feet away.

So Warren made a beeline for one of the vending machines, internally cheering upon catching sight of potato chips, and spent a happy three credits to munch on the best, saltiest snack he'd ever had in his life. It had been entirely too long since he'd had Earth food, and he didn't realize how much he'd missed it.

#tag game #Find the Word #I really hope those playlists are as cohesive as I assume they are lmao #someday in the next decade they'll be ready to post pfft

[blsci-nerd]

Rebel Moon rambling thoughts...

Sweet, it's a new scifi movie! And with Bae Doona! This is going to be GREAT!

Ok, ok, starting out strong with muscle arms and hammerhead horses. (Note to self: look up behind the scenes to see how they did this).

Starting to notice an angle trend on our FL. Why is she only shot from the left? What the hell, now this is going to bother me for the rest of the show.

Seriously, ALL. LEFT. SIDE. We could make a drinking game about the times Kora's shot from the right and you would still be sober by the end. Anyways, moving on...

I see we have Space Nazis. And the lead dude has red guards.

Ah, now father figure is handing Kora a weapon he has saved for her this whole time! It's your father's lightsaber.

And now to Mos Eisley Providence! Hey, it's a saloon. Who would've thought? You know, you're going to need a pilot.

But first! My friend doesn't like you...I don't like you, either! Pew pew pew.

Ah, they made it to the ship. Would've lost money betting on a "piece of junk" quip.

Oh...I see Noble gets hooked up to tubes and stuff and is all scarred up underneath his clothes.

Aaaaand now they are on a desert planet and need to free a slave by making a bet involving riding a podracer bennu. Nice.

Alright, they've got space Tarzan! On to the next hero (side note: isn't it chilly in space? Give the man a sweater)

OMG BAE DOONA!!!!!! The reason I am here!!!!! She's using her light sabers light sabers to take down the Borg Queen and I'm not even mad about it. Her gat is *chef's kiss*

Methinks magic Princess Leia Rey Issa is not dead.

What, Djimon Hounsou? Yes, please! For a man hell-bent on drinking himself to death, he seems to have kept up with his gym routine. Well, hose him down and get him on the ship!

Alright, on to King Levitica. Ooooh, cute wordplay 'cause, you know, everything on the planet is levitating. Also nice to see that he has left the Trade Federation for more honorable pursuits.

Oh my gosh, it's the space Kravitz's! NGL, they look pretty badass. Digging the blue forehead makeup they have going on. Glad to see Mad Max extras getting new gigs.

Oooops, bye King Levitica. How did Sharaan last 10,000 years?

Surprise! Blondie is a traitor.

Oof, was NOT expecting that last minute head dodge/gut blast from bad-guy gunman! It's around the 1:48 mark. Awarding "Best Clip of the Movie" (after the slo-mo). And is that it for Cyborg Kravitz? We really aren't seeing him again? Say it ain't so.

Enough about them. Back to Vader and Luke Kora and Noble fighting on a gantry floating buoy.

Yay, Noble is dead! Oh, wait...SHUT UP, they've sent a ship to look for him? And there he is? NOT dead, but almost dead? NO WAY!!!! And now they're hooking him up to hoses and stuff? And he has a MASTER???

*sigh*

I'm done. Will I watch Part II? Of course. Because Bae Doona.

#rebel moon #bae doona

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

Bro did you say Leo playlist??? Drop the Leo playlist Arlo let's go tell us about it

Yes ma'am, right away ma'am

#it's.. so messy when it comes to the meaning behind each one 😂 then again that goes for every f/o playlist #some are of Rise Leo. some are '12. some of them are Leo as a whOle and some of them are just stuff i think we'd listen to agdhdbsb #i low key wanna talk about what some of the songs mean to us. but that's just if anyones interested agbdfbsb #i ... love him so fucking much hhhh.. #boy in blue #he's self shipping again get the hose #arlo answers

[thetomorrowshow]

empires superpowers au masterlist

tenacious trajectory

Jimmy isn’t exactly a hero.

He’s never been properly been a hero, never been like Major, or Gem, or any of the more localized heroes in Empire City. He’s not a villain, though—he’s nothing like Xornoth, Major’s nemesis. Jimmy’s more of … he’s more of an antihero, something in between.

Nobody particularly likes him, but he's a dangerous enemy, so they just sort of. Leave him alone. That is, until Xornoth, the foremost villain in the country, kidnaps him. ~ or, the trope where the villain turns up on the hero’s doorstep injured saying, “i had nowhere else to go...” and collapses.

~

dissonant air

Major is staring at Jimmy, the only person not running and screaming. He needs to get past the worm, after all. He plans on waiting until it passes him on its hunt for the crowd, then he’s going to continue on his way home. But Major is staring at him, eyes hard and frowning, and Jimmy’s confused until he self-consciously rolls up his sleeves.

He’s wearing Major’s jacket.

Uh-oh. ~ a small intermission piece for my empires superpowers au!

~

panic scampered through their veins

This isn’t his room. This isn’t his apartment. This isn’t that boxcar in the junkyard he sometimes stays in because his apartment’s power has gone out or something.

This is a grey concrete room, a heavy-looking door with a rectangle window inset the only way out.

He’s back. Jimmy's been kidnapped. Again. ~ sequel to my fic 'tenacious trajectory'!

~

poisoned rats in a pot of grain

Xornoth is excited, Jimmy can tell. He can tell in the way they rub his strands of hair between their fingertips, the way their foot taps. “That is where my little bird comes in,” they announce, and something sinks in Jimmy’s stomach that is decidedly not the blood dripping down his throat. “Surely you’ve both noticed the excess of disasters in the city as of late?"

"And soon, he will be brought into the light.” Xornoth’s hand leaves Jimmy as they lean forward, resting their arms on the table. “Soon, the world will know the devastating effects of Xornoth and their Canary. With my control of my pet, I will rule.”

-

the next installment in my empires superpowers au!

~

in a ship of glass

He’s repressed his powers since the first time they appeared—when he’d woken up to get ready for his first day of eighth grade to find his blanket covered in a sheet of ice. After that, he’d done everything he could to get rid of them—and when getting rid of them proved impossible, he’d just decided that nobody would ever know they existed.

Being powered is unnatural. Not as God intended. Of the Devil. God wouldn’t give one person such an advantage over everyone else. They’re supposed to be on equal footing. Powered individuals shouldn’t exist, shouldn’t want to exist.

And Scott’s never wanted to exist less. - Scott's backstory in my empires superpowers au :)

~

ONE SHOTS AND OTHER STORIES ARE UNDER THE CUT

into the enemy domain

That’s Major.

The knock on his door at this time of night had been entirely unexpected, so Jimmy had looked out the blurry peephole to see—and there’s no mistaking that blue hair, even if he is—

Is he covered in blood? - or, an au where Scott shows up on Jimmy's doorstep at the beginning, instead of the other way around.

~

futile (only on ao3)

The hose clicks off and Jimmy’s left there in the center of the floor, the drain beside him gurgling a bit. He can barely summon the energy to lift his twitching head, to prepare for Helmer to grab his collar and drag him out of here.

Helmer’s just staring at him, though, his heavy-lidded eyes unblinking as he slowly sets down the hose. Jimmy doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like it at all. - the unwritten scene from chapter five of 'poisoned rats in a pot of grain', as told by Jimmy to Scott.

~

closed

in which Scott accidentally triggers Jimmy, but it turns out all right :)

-

a one shot <1000 words.

~

sent to help

Jimmy had been running his hand on one of those pillows with the reversible sequins during the conversation, and he can imagine that petting a cat would be more comforting.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants a cat. A young cat, maybe, a little baby of a cat for him to raise and train himself. He’s scared, though. He’s very scared. - a short story set in my empires superpowers au!

~

a sprinkling of bells

There’s a sci-fi display, a romance display, and a display all about grilling cookbooks, which seems rather niche but there’s a good thirty cookbooks filling the stand. He never knew there could be so many books. He browses them absently, and as he reaches to read the back of one of the sci-fi books that has an interesting cover, he freezes.

A book on the romance display catches his eye.

He recognizes that cover. - a one-shot in my empires superpowers au :)

~

froze in shock

Something Scott doesn’t exactly love is just how stiff Jimmy is all the time.

Not personality-wise, or emotionally, but physically. When they watch movies all cuddled up together, Jimmy stares at the screen without seeming to need to shift his seating position, even as Scott readjusts about a billion times. They read together and Jimmy doesn’t move an inch from where he’s curled up on the couch. They lie in bed and Scott tries to sleep, but Jimmy is absolutely motionless in his arms.

It’s just frankly weird, and too many times Scott’s poked Jimmy to make sure he’s still alive only for Jimmy to turn those big puppy-dog eyes on him, terribly wounded by a little prod. Scott always rolls his eyes and cuddles Jimmy a bit closer. That is, until today. - story from my empires superpowers au

#empires superpowers au #MASterlist #esmp #empires smp #flower husbands #mas writes #masterlist to prep for new chapter tonight??

[ohhicas]

It’s been awhile since I typed too much, saying a lot yet saying Nothing, about a prettyboy anime character but I got bit with the obnoxious urge to do it about Twisted Wonderland’s Rook Hunt  and im gonna make it everyone else’s problem

[spoilers up to the end of book6 below, but I may use both EN and JP/fan translation terms as I play in EN but follow with fantranslations for future stuff]

[ i state it several times in the text, way more than necessary, but this isn’t meant to be ship positive in any way. if anything I may have accidentally argued for an aro!Rook take without meaning to. Which still isn’t what i was going for here, so don’t click hoping to find that, either.]

[seriously this is a lot of words for something that can be summed up pretty quick, i just let myself type to get the feelings out without much direction.]

 I didn’t wanna love this little french bastard yet here we are, doing something this wildin’ before I tried it with Sebek (who I arguably love more, BUT)

fate chose this for me

ANYWAY with the drop of book6′s completion, i need to yell some feelings. So this is less an essay and more a disjointed nightmare I’m typing before I lose the drive to do it (again). "Love” is gonna come up a lot, in fact it’s the majority of the thing, and how I see it in connection with Rook. This obviously means Vil is gonna be brought up directly, but this isn’t a ship-positive rant for them. I’m also not arguing against rook/vil in a “your ship is bad and here’s why” way. I’m just giving my personal feelings here on Rook as a character and, by association, Vil is gonna show up, because of course he is. Please don’t read this expecting either of those things.

--

   So to me, Rook as a character is completely driven by Love. Any kind of love. He tends to lean towards the Aesthetic and Beauty variety, and he finds beauty in everything. The way you can’t keep the hair out of your eyes when it’s windy and your nose gets all scrunchy to blow it away, the way you eat your too-chewy steak, your drive to continue to better yourself. The spirit is beautiful. The only thing he doesn’t find beautiful is when you’re not being yourself, not being truthful to your desires, and are presenting a false version of yourself to the world. [See; him calling Vil his least beautiful self during Vil’s overblot/near poisoning of Neige]. If he says he loves you, finds you beautiful, it’s not like he’s lying. He doesn’t lie. everything he says is his true feelings and he doesn’t even let himself lie to benefit another [again, see; voting for Neige despite voting against his team and Vil, because he knew they weren’t honestly the most beautiful in that moment.]    That’s like, a baseline for him. Those are the bare basics for what rules Rook operates on. He won’t lie to make you feel better. He may withhold some things, and talk around the subject, but he’s not going to lie about it. Which is a curse and a blessing. He’s been called blunt and rude for calling things out and stating his mind, or being too pushy because he’s not lying-- when he threatens Floyd with perfume, he doesn’t try to trick him. He tells Floyd what he wants, and outright says if Floyd continues to refuse, he’ll become a bigger problem than it’s worth and then hoses him.

   With the new information that came out about Rook, we got to see another side of him. He was a Savanaclaw student first. He lived on the Afterglow Savanna growing up. He was raised in a family of famous hunters with villa all over the world with teleporters in them so they can hop around quickly. It was like the stars aligned when I read that, really. “Oh that makes perfect sense, holy shit”. Like before when he was young and he had no understanding on how to express his emotions until he watched the play with Neige in it and it changed his life-- meeting Vil was another of those moments. They were first years (I believe?) and Rook had no sense of pomp and fashion. He let his hair go wild, dry, uncared for. Just tie it back and call it good. No sunscreen or UV protection despite how fair he was so he was constantly covered in freckles and blemishes. Slack, lazy close that were comfortable and easy to move in was the best style because he was a hunter. He was chasing beauty without any care of it for himself. (I desperately want to meet this Rook. Wild, free, holes in his knees and leaf probably stuck in his hair. Someone that nobody would ever connect to the current Rook. In the card where Floyd assaults him with a hairdryer, he comments on how much hair Rook has. Does he flatiron it to hell and back, now to make it appear thin and fine? Did Floyd’s surprised comment about how much hair Rook has point to this? The hairdryer is unlocking Rook’s true form.) And then he met Vil.    I’m assuming he was hunting Leona during his time in Savanaclaw as they shared a dorm and he knew of the man from his previous time on the Afterglow Savanna but Vil was different. Sparkly. They had so much in common (though I can’t remember if it’s clarified what exactly they had in common as I’m typing this, but Rook had an interest in musicals, stage shows, historical documentaries and war stories. He may be a grimy rough and tumble boy but that love of the Aesthetic and Beauty was there-- and Vil was the embodiment of it.) they talked for hours until it night fell and they both caught colds. It’s an adorable meet-cute-- but, this is where i differ from a lot of people.

   I don’t see it as a Romantic Love, for Rook. 

(Again, I’m not going to bash the ship, Vil/Rook was my first interest pairing when I got into the fandom, I just fell out of favor with it the more i learned about Rook the character.)

   The thing I run into is Vil lives for the Aesthetic, and the Aesthetic is what Rook is chasing. Vil’s drive is beautiful, his push to constantly better himself and one day rise above his rival (who Rook is the biggest fan of. This has to be Rook’s favorite dream; the man who showed him how to feel emotions (Neige) and this being of pure beauty who isn’t pushing him away (Vil) like all his other Prey did). Instead of reacting how Leona (probably) did to little wild Savanaclaw Rook, Vil immediately took to him in that “honey, no” way. Beat his face. Vil is why Rook looks and dresses and acts the way he does, now. He taught Rook makeup, haircare, skincare. He dressed him out to meet his favorite actor lmao and Rook fell in “love”. The issue is that type of “Love” that he fell into.     It’s an Aesthetic Love. Its a Friendship, platonic, deep Love. It’s found-family love. It’s not a Romantic love. And he clearly knows the difference; he can’t be a fan of all these deep, passionate, poetic stories and not be able to tell the differences in Love. He seems to push Romantic types of Love on others, assuming as much or at least using “Love” and “Care” as terms, whether he means them Romantic or not (and others taking them to mean something Rook may or may not insinuate, like when he teases Trey about growing strawberries just for Riddle, and he’s shot down. Did he mean it as romantic? or just insinuate that Trey feels a ‘love’ for Riddle in wanting to create something from scratch with care for him, without clarifying? Rook is so hard to understand sometimes.)    And yeah, Rook transfers from Savanaclaw to Pomefiore as soon as he’s able, for Vil’s sake. It seems like it’s over the year break, between year 1 and year 2, as their meeting was in the winter. He wants to be closer to this beautiful thing he’s “in love” with. But as mentioned, Rook is “in love” with so much. Vil even tries to stop him from going through with the transfer, probably sensing what kind of demon he just unleashed on himself. Rook is a force of goddamn nature that cannot be stopped once he has his mind set on something.    (RIP, Floyd’s nostrils)

   It’s also interesting how perfectly he and Epel parallel each other. Epel wants to be in Savanaclaw so bad to escape Vil and all the rules and fluff (at first), and Rook left Savanaclaw as quickly as he could the moment he saw Vil to emerse himself in this new situation, to get closer. Epel is probably going through the same Aesthetic & Rules Bootcamp that Vil put Rook through, which is why Rook is so knowledgeable in the topics and Vil leaves him in charge to make sure Epel follows through with it all. Vil is the head honcho here, Rook is his first project, Epel is his newest. Vil just takes these Savanaclaw-themed babies and beats them into beautiful flowers. [Vil also tries to do this with Leona to zero success, and Floyd to a semi-situational success, and Floyd did say Savanaclaw would be the dorm he’d transfer to in his birthday Q&A. You add ��old friends with Jack” into this mess and man, what is with Vil and hoarding/being connected to so many Savanaclaw-esque rough & tumble boys?]    Rook is there to help Epel through his first Unique Magic, even getting down to his shoulder like he’s teaching his ward to shoot prey for the first time and helping to steady his aim. If Vil is the ‘Queen Mom’ of this team, Rook is the big sibling to Epel’s baby. I can’t quite say Rook is the ‘father’, as he’s still being firmly reminded to remain in-line from Vil so often, lmao.

   Like I’m not gonna sit here and say that Rook doesn’t love Vil. He does, he very clearly does. He loves Epel, too. He loves Trey’s dedication to his dorm leader. He loves Deuce’s passion. He loves how untouchable and dangerous Leona is. He loves how mysterious and deadly the Fae are [and he is, routinely, one of the only people to talk to Malleus directly without fear outside of the main Diasomnia boys, too]. He loves all these people and more, but not a single one is a Romantic love from what we’ve seen. He loves the beauty they can show him. He loves the whole world equally, for everything has a beauty to it that he may not have seen before. He strives to see it.    I feel dwindling Rook’s feelings towards Vil to “a romantic, ship-love” is taking something away from his character and their bond. Again, Completely Valid if you don’t read it how I am. I said before I know I’m in the minority here.    Rook dislikes heavy smells. He doesn’t like garlic not only for flavor, but it’s a strong, lingering odor that will disrupt his hunting work because his nose is sharp. There are several comments scattered across various cards and situations where he mentions the smell of heavy makeup is just a burden he has to accept, to be close to Vil. It’s not something he loves and would chose to do daily, freely, if there wasn’t the threat of losing someone he deems beautiful. The perfume, it was a gift from Vil. He uses it as a weapon. He wears it because he has to. He doesn’t like any of this, outside of acknowledging the beauty it brings. Given how he apparently prefers to dress, or preferred to, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dislikes wearing the Pomefiore uniform as much as he seems to dislike everything else-- but it’s a burden he accepts willingly so he can be closer to the ultimate beautiful thing he’s seeking out. It’s not a “hate”. There is beauty in the weave of the fabric and the cut, drape, flow of it. The skill it took for Vil to create that perfume, the skill of the manufacturers to produce the makeup line he uses. There is beauty there; not something to hate. Just a small burden he must accept to follow with his “hunter of beauty" passion.    It’s as much of a ‘burden’ as a hunter having to put on facepaint and scrub himself with mud to keep the prey off their trail. It’s helping him blend in, to be closer. A necessary thing so he can stay by Vil’s side.

I’m getting off that subject, cause I can feel myself circle-talking. So, here’s some cool things I remember Rook can do (said in canon, no headcanons unless specified)

- Animal Linguistics (with a strongest lean in moles, though he’s talking to hedgehogs so maybe all kinds of creatures of that type. He also seems to know what the flamingos want, but that could just be “it’s a flamingo, I’m a hunter, I got this” and less actually listening/talking to them) - His place in the Science Club is for Vil’s sake; it’s commented on that he would have a better position in a literary or poetry club, but he wants to make Vil shine so he withholds his own hobby-interests to follow his hunter/aesthetic beauty dreams - The hunter thing as a whole. Just by watching Jade from afar he can learn his food habits, walking speed, when he chooses to sleep, heart rate, blink rate, etc. These aren’t traits that are useful for most reasons you’d stalk someone; Rook isn’t trying to hurt anyone in the way a mafia or blackmail would. He’s actively hunting people. That’s all things you’d use to track someone down. - Embraces new situations openly. Jade basically poisons him with a numbing mushroom, and Rook takes it in stride, thanking him for the new experience. - Has amazing hearing and eyesight. His hearing scored him the knowledge of Lilia and Malleus’s connection. [afaik, and this is headcanon, this probably means he knows about Silver and Lilia, as well. These are big things that could be used for blackmail but he... doesn’t care. He’s more interested in them as Fae and how they operate than ruining lives or anything. He wants to see the Fae at full strength and hunt them when the ‘game’ would be most interesting.] - HUGE poetry writer. It’s probably his #1 hobby next to hunting. Not only does he write poems on the back of all of Neige’s promotional images and send them to him as gifts, he also comments about wanting to write a poem about several other beautiful situations. This man probably writes a sonnet per person he falls in ‘love’ with. - He’s such a good little cheerleader for you. As long as you’re trying, he’s in your court. Yeah he’s a little weird but he wants the best probably to try to build up new prey to chase down later, lmao - Who gave him permission to keep a full bow and arrow set and use it on campus?? - holy shit that Unique Magic though, good LORD. I want to know if he sees the maps in his head, too, when using it, or if the maps were just for the ‘Player’s sake to understand what was happening. Rook says it’s not a special, beautiful, or useful magic but it’s so good. It suits him perfectly.

   I’m sure there are more I’m forgetting, but. Waves hand.

I have a lot of feelings for Rook that sort of punched me out of nowhere. If that isn’t obvious.    If you feel completely different about this, that’s cool!  If you have differing opinions you can share if you want, just stay civil in it all. I probably won’t respond, but I’ll read it ‘cause I’m an avid tag reader. 

(btw When Vil gives Epel, Yuu, and Rook hugs and kisses in thanks for rescuing him, it was so cute. Pomefiore found-family stay winning.)

#twisted wonderland #lmao sorry i have words and must scream #please heed my excessive warnings & disclaimers at the top #rook hunt

[popquizhot-shot]

Jealousy-Pin Hawthorne x reader

This is Part-1

Requested-Nope

Warnings- Jealousy? Insecurity, wanting to stab someone, sad reader, sad Pin, language, death of a horse (not graphic. part of backstory), this is a bit dramatic for a Free Rein fic. not proofread.

A/n- This is a self-indulgent fic and does not follow the timeline of the show, i’m pretty sure I don’t know what I’m doing.

Summary- Y/n is jealous of Zoe

Tag: @thatfangirl42​

Damn her, damn her for being so perfect. Damn her for getting everything you ever wanted.

Damn her for taking away Pin, your best friend.

Damn her for taking away Raven, the only thing that reminded you of Diana.

Damn Zoe Philips.

Flashback

It seemed as if the world stopped moving.

Your mare, Diana broke her leg.

She had to be put down.

“ Y/n, we have to.” Pin said, “ Diana is in too much pain, do this for her.”

You couldn’t, how could you? The black mare was the one thing that made you happy. She was the sweetest, most loving creature, even Raven liked her, and he hated everybody.

Pin knew how much you loved Diana, and how much she loved you. It broke his heart, because not only was he devastated over Diana, he knew how much she meant to you. You never had the best relationship with your parents, so you decided to come here, to live with your relatives. Diana was there for you, she made you laugh, she’d chew your hair, and she trusted you, more than anyone.

“ Pin, I can’t! She can’t die! She won’t! She’ll heal and we’ll all be fine.” you replied.

Sighing, he came over you and took your hand.

“ Y/n, Diana is in pain, if you love her, you have to let her go, I’m so sorry Y/n/n. Please do this for her. Relieve her from her pain.” 

Sobbing, you nodded and he pulled you into a hug.

“ Shhh, cry all you want sweetheart. Let it all out. Everything’s going to be alright.” he kissed your head.

~~

Pin helped you get over Diana’s death, bit by bit. He introduced you to a new horse Shadowfax. That was when you realized you loved him.

You thought he loved you too, after all, he was closest to you. Always defended you from Mia, you both always rode together, and he liked having you around.

How wrong you were.

Everything changed the day Zoe found Raven.

Raven, who liked you the most, went and bonded with Zoe. 

Pin seemed to hate her at first. But you saw the was he looked at her when he thought no one noticed. 

You thought you could physically hear your heart break.

So you distanced yourself. From Pin, from your relatives. From Becky and Jade. 

You only focused on riding. 

~~

“ Y/n’s acting strange lately. Have you noticed Becky?” Jade asked her best friend as they were hosing down Bob.

“ I’ve noticed Jade, we should talk to her.” Becky agreed

“ She’s been getting better and better at riding everyday. She’s going to make the under-18 team. I bet you.” Jade nodded towards you, who was practicing , “ and she’s not talking to Pin either. I found that so strange! They’re so close! and Pin really likes her!”

“ Let’s talk to her after she finished practicing.” Becky suggested.

“  Yes, let’s.”

~~

“ Well, that didn’t go well at all.” Becky grumbled.

“ Agreed.” Jade replied.

You gave short answers and when they prodded you, you snapped at themm clearly angry.

“ Pin’s the only one who’ll be able to talk to her.” Jade said.

“ What’s up guys?” Zoe came up to them.

“ Y/n.” they said in unison.

“ Oh. what happened?”

“ She’s not talking to any of us.” Becky explained.

“ Yeah, I found it weird. Pin keeps talking to me about her, he’s getting worried. She won’t talk to him.”

“ He needs to go talk to her!” Jade exclaimed, “ I can’t see my friend like this! She’s only focusing on riding, tiring herself out everyday and not talking to any f us!”

“ Pin needs to talk to her! I ship them so much! I can’t let that ship sail!” Becky groaned.

“ Becky! Jade! Calm down. I’ll talk to Pin and tell him to talk to Y/n.”

~~

God, you wanted to stab Zoe, like just lodge a knife in her stomach and watch the-

“Woah! Getting a little ahead of myself there!” you said to yourself. But what else was there to do.

You felt bad for snapping at Becky and Jade and wanted to go apologize to them. So you made your way to the stables and there you found Pin..and Zoe.

They seemed to be talking quite seriously and Zoe looked around before whispering something in his ear.

You couldn’t take it.

Head up, chin out and fighting back tears, you walked past them to Shadowfax’s stable to tack him up. 

“ Shit.” Pin whispered.

“ Go! Talk to her!” Zoe pushed him towards you.

Taking a deep breath, Pin made his way to you.

“ Hey Y/n/n.” he said, coming to pet Shadowfax.

“ Hi.” you reply.

“ Are you okay? You’ve been distant lately.” 

“ I’m fine, thank you for asking. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go practice.” you lead your horse out and quickly made your way to the training area. (i don’t what it’s called).

Pin followed you and took your hand, you pulled away and didn’t look at him, missing the hurt on his face.

“ Shouldn’t you be with Zoe?” you ask him, voice bitter.

“ Zoe? Is this what all this is about?”

“ Like I said Hawthorne, I have to go practice. Good day.” you walked away..

“ Dammit!’ Pin shouted after you left.

~~

After your practice and rubbing down Shadowfax, you made your way to the cafe. You were pushing yourself a bit too much, and walked home tired and on the verge of fainting everyday.

You went inside to find Becky at the register. Good, you still wanted to apologize to her.

“ Hey Becky!” you call out, making her eyebrows go up.

“..Hey Y/n.” she replies.

“ I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry for how I snapped earlier. I don’t know what’s gotten into me these days. I hope you can forgive me.” you apologize.

Becky smiles before reaching out and giving you a small hug from across the counter.

“ I forgive you, now lemme get you a cupcake.” 

~~

“  I just want to know, why are you not talking to us anymore? What have we done? What have I don-”

“ Pin! Stop talking to yourself in the mirror and come down! I need your help with dinner!”

“S-sorry coming dad!” Pin yells and runs down to the kitchen.”

-----

“Y/n, please just tell us!” Jade coaxes.

Clenching your jaw, you refuse to look at them. They started prodding you with questions again and you almost snapped at them.

“ Please, we just want to know what’s going on with our best friend.” Becky puts her hands on your shoulders,

“ Me?” you scoffed, “ isn’t Zoe your best friend.”

Becky glanced at Jade.

There, That’s the reason

“ Y/n, we like Zoe a lot, but she could never replace you. You’re our best friend too! and Zoe’s really nice, but she isn’t you, no one is . We love you!” Jade hugged you from behind.

Tears start forming in your eyes and you hastily blink them away.

“ I’m so sorry. I was such a bitch to both of you.” you hold their hands.

“ Hey, it’s ok, we forgive you.” they sandwich you in a hug.

~~

“ So, what’s the deal with Y/n? She isn’t coming over anymore?” Ted asked Pin,

“ I don’t know dad, she isn’t talking to me, she just glares at me and tells me to go play with Zoe instead of wasting my time.” Pin grumbles.

Ted starts chuckling, clearly understanding what’s going on.

“ Dad, why are you laughing?” Pin questions, unamused.

“ Oh son.” Ted gasps, “ you’re so oblivious.”

“ What do you mean?”

“ Pin, Y/n likes you, and she’s jealous. The same way you were jealous of how much time she spent with Marcus, she’s jealous of the how much time you spend with Zoe. Go now. Talk to her.”

“ What?” Pin asks, a little stunned.

“ Go Pin!” Ted shoves him out.

~~

“ I was jealous, I thought that you didn’t want to be around me anymore. I thought you preferred Zoe and I wouldn’t be surprised, she is lovely. But the truth is, I love you Pin, god I love you.”

“ You know, if you want to practice confessing your love, it’s best not to do it where someone else can hear it.” Marcus’s voice comes from behind you.

“ Oh shit.”

#freddy carter x reader #pin hawthorne x reader #Free Rein #marcus x reader #free rein fic #Echo actually writes

[captnjacksparrow]

Hi.

How is it possible that the studio let ops and eds of Naruto feature in the anime? I mean c'mon, even a child can see how romantic they are. The lyrics, the visuals, the story/feel and meaning, all of it!!

Kiss me kiss me all night?? Really? How else are people supposed to interpret it? Even if some other studio was commissioned to make them, it's not possible that they just brought the ideas for ops and eds out of thin air. They must have submitted the concept/storyboard/song/lyrics beforehand to Studio Pierrot. No way studio Pierrot was not aware of how romantic they were. Not possible. It wouldn't have happened without their tacit approval and permission. Studios just don't work that way.

I am sure the studio was very aware of Sasuke and Naruto's romantic love, the producers aren't stupid or inexperienced. So they deliberately let the eds and ops be.

So what, it was just queerbaiting knowing SNS would never actually happen? Fanservice? What else could it be?

Also, how cruel and fuck those fuckers. 😤

I cannot predict the exact reason, anon.

But I am pretty sure, it was not for Queerbaiting. Definitely not!!!

As you and I both know that the world we currently live in is majorly Homophobic. I am just speaking generally. The fact that we cannot even google 'Who was Naruto's first kiss?' and expect an honest answer that it was Sasuke. Please don't Google this question unless you want some extreme bleeding from your eyes, ears and nostrils. Same with Youtube, Twitter, Reddit... Like you cannot even talk about SNS in a general discussion.

So, what we can infer from this is that such Homophobic creeps does exists in majority.

If I really want to bait people to watch this Anime, why should I target people whose numbers are very less as compared to the people who constitutes the majority??? What do I even gain???

What I would do is to make some steamy scenes between SS and NH in all my ops and eds, and it would definitely catch everyone's eyes!!!

I've said this countless times and I will say it again, I don't ship SNS in a sexual way but as Soulmates. But if someone ships them sexually, I don't get bothered at all or rather I enjoy their content all the same. 

Having said that,

Just ignore those ops and eds for a moment... Let's talk about posters, most of which were drawn by Kishimoto himself.

Click on the picture for better resolution. Because there are lot of details in the following poster.

Now, what do you understand from this picture??? 

The above poster screams 'Sexual Innuendo' on many levels. Even to my unromantic eyes, I could see the hidden stuffs blatantly.

Naruto was seen eating watermelons and watching a battle between two beetles which was marked with Blue and Red... which indicates Sasuke and Naruto. And for every 4 wins, he strikes the name on the notepad that’s next to him, (you could see the words SA, NA written on the paper, meaning SAsuke and NAruto). It seems Red Beetle won the first round. LOL.

Sasuke was seen doing 'something questionable' while looking at Naruto. If anyone who claims that Sasuke's actions were normal, then they must be really naive. It’s just not!!!! No matter how you look at it....

Pinky was seen wetting over her beloved 'Sasuke-Kun'.... I mean she was literally wetting so bad... Look at the water getting sprayed from the water hose. Also look at the placement of her hands. ROFL.

Am just going to leave it at that!!!

What was Kishimoto trying to convey from this??? 

Pinky wets over Sasuke... Ok, we all know that. 

Sasuke, ummmm.... Also likes Naruto in THAT way??? That's a news to me!!!

Logically speaking, Sasuke is the popular character especially among girl fans. Everyone wants to self-insert with him in some way. If I am an author who created a character like Sasuke, why would I make him look at Naruto ‘like that’???... Instead I would get more money if Sasuke looked at Sakura in a teasing manner. Just look at the popularity of that hot garbage ‘Sasuke Retsuden’..... I could easily make a Sasuke’s version of 50 Shades of Grey and sleep on a Golden Bed. I don’t have to design a poster in this way!!!

And then there's this,

This is another handiwork of Kishimoto where Naruto and Sasuke were seen tilting their heads in the opposite direction and looking at each other like they were ready to kiss each other!!! I will forcefully make my sibling to get treated from the Hospital if she looks at me like that!!! 

And finally this...

Sasuke is looking at Naruto with some seductive sensual look. I think this is the movie poster of ‘The Bonds’. It’s not Kishimoto’s work but SP’s. Imagine if Sasuke looked at Pinky like this!!!! 

All these posters were drawn with some ‘Sexual Innuendo’... blatantly or subtly. What is the need for that??? Queerbaiting??? Well, if that’s the case, Kishimoto could’ve stopped with that famous Chapter 3, ‘Accidental Kiss’ and be done with it. There’s no need for VoTE1 and VoTE2 confessions. And all those repressed feelings and stuffs. 

Because the pattern of Queerbaiting is that you already know it in your heart that it’s a Joke. I repeat you will know it’s a Joke.

For example, Naruto and Sai. 

2 Chapters in, we saw Sai was making 10 Dick Jokes about Naruto 

and he was also seen interested in Naruto’s well-being like wanting to feed Ramen, protecting him from Sasuke and Karui’s attacks. 

This is called Queerbaiting. Making one of the secondary male character to be 'seemingly' interested in the Main Male Character and usually it won't go anywhere. And we know it.

As for Fanservice, I've seen one and SNS don't even qualify under that.

Yes, In Japan, KakaIru was the popular ship.... More popular than SNS. Hence, Kishi made a cute scene where Kakashi saves Iruka from Pain.

This is called Fan Service!!! It means you do something for the fans which doesn’t change the plot in anyway. 

What I call as an extreme fanservice was pairing up Naruto with Pinata and Sasuke with Pinky. Just imagine if Naruto married Pinky and Sasuke married Karin.... Do you see any change in the storyline of Boruto???? Absolutely Nothing. Still, Sasuke would have preferred to be around Naruto and his Son.... Naruto would have adopted a new kid called Kawaki. This is the laughable fact of Narutoverse. No matter whichever girl they marry...... Their bond would have remained intact. 

So Queerbaiting, Fanservice...... You guys can go out and eat popcorn!!!!!

All those Openings and Endings with romantic subtext, I see them as an extension of  What Kishimoto was trying to convey through his subtext in his Manga. And we should be happy that the Studio didn’t try to censor it.

Let’s take this one!!!! 

We saw Naruto’s important people in this same ending.... He had Iruka, Kakashi, Sakura (I seriously don’t know why this Biashhh was there.... probably to evade extreme homosexual vibe and since Naruto is the titular character) and then Sasuke!!!!

However when it comes to Sasuke’s side it was crystal clear.... It was just Naruto and Naruto alone. And that’s the truth. Otherwise why did he leave Naruto in VoTE1 with such a painful expression? Whereas with Sakura he looked like ‘Why is this girl coming in my way?’ especially he was showing his back to her the whole time???

So, the Studio knew it. They definitely are not some dunce who just want to spout some meaningless stuffs out to the public. They really did their utmost best to convey their relationship through these ops and endings. 

Especially this.... LOL!!!!

The sexual tension that was emitting throughout this ending was easily noticeable, even without the song ‘Please Kiss Me’!!! And this is the only ending that featured just Naruto and Sasuke. And with that Song placement, the tension becomes almost palpable.

Do I think this ending was accidental???

No freaking way!!!!! 

These are all carefully planned and produced with thorough inspection. So, just like you said, anon, the producers of this studio know what their relationship was. They did their utmost best to bring out Kishimoto’s drawings into Anime reality. Despite all of these, still people couldn’t see the story beyond the surface level probably because of Homophobia or Lack of Understanding a media and it’s subtexts. They conveyed what they wanted to say without receiving any strong criticism and at the same time people still believe they are brothers/friends. So, it’s a win-win situation on many levels for both Kishimoto and the Producers.

The Day when someone starts to question themself that ‘Why Naruto and Sasuke were hiding their feelings if they were just friends/brothers?’.... Then that day, they will surely come to understand the real relationship between Naruto and Sasuke!!!! 

#ask #sns #sasunaru #narusasu #sasunarusasu #sasuke #naruto

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Wicked

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Equalizer 2

Ships: Dave York x you (established cishet relationship, no kids, no mention of marriage but bitch you could be his wifey)

Additions tags/warnings: DaddyDom!Dave, pet names, spanking, sort of half-public sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, PiV sex (unprotected but they're good, don't count on it yourself so wrap it up).

Summary: Dave comes home to find you washing the car dressed in pretty much nothing so of course he has to establish dominance.

Note: This honestly started as a cute Frankie Morales story and then it took an interesting turn and Frankie noped the fuck out of it so I had to try my hand at Dave. So here you have it: my first Dave York fic. Porn it is, plot it has none. (We didn't really get along so I don't know if I'll ever revisit him.)

Dave sees you at a distance as he drives along the suburban residential road towards the house he shares with you.

“Sweet Jesus,” he mutters under his breath as he slows down and hits the turn signal. Coming to a smooth stop behind your car, he checks the rear view mirror and sees the neighbor across the street sitting on their porch with a beer in hand.

Asshole.

He gets out of the car, tie loosened and jacket over his arm, and eyes you as you smile brightly at him. Like you're completely unaware of the fact that you're washing your car in tiny cut-offs and an unwired bikini top, and that half the neighborhood is ogling you.

“Hey baby,” you beam and lift your hand to bring a damp lock of hair behind your ear. You're holding the sponge, and it drips soap onto your chest, a white bubbly smear that slowly runs down between your breasts. His eyes widen a little.

Jesus FUCKING Christ.

“Good day? Did your job fix the AC yet?”

“They did after lunch,” he says dismissively before frowning unapprovingly at you. “And are you aware that you’ve got an audience? Might as well put up a pole in the driveway and have people pay.”

You frown and wipe another lock of hair that's come loose from your ponytail.

“Don’t be such a prude,” you sigh. “You don’t get to tell me how to dress in my own yard.”

“’Course I don’t, but I get to tell you that I don’t like it,” Dave mutters darkly. The last few days of working with no AC during a heatwave have made him grouchy and even if he wasn't, you're his.

“You can, but I won’t listen," you shrug indifferently. He loves you for your resistance, your independence. You can do anything and everything without him, yet you choose to lean on him, to share everything with him. And despite all your competence: the way you fall apart for his hands, his mouth, his cock, and hand yourself over to him...

"Dave, it’s a million degrees out here and the car needs to be washed.” Your neutral expression is changed into a flirty grin. “I can wash your car, too… and you can watch.”

You lean in for a kiss and fuck, how could he ever resist your charm? You smell of sweat, car wash soap, and sunscreen and you taste of homemade lemonade and sweat from your upper lip. He sucks it into his mouth and savours the saltiness of it as his hand slides down your warm, naked side and settles on your denim hip where one of his fingers finds a belt hoop, goes through it and pulls you closer.

“Now who’s putting on a show for the neighbors?” you mumble, breaking the kiss, and he feels himself unravel at your words, how you look, just how you are with him: so clearly secure, trusting, playful. You're pushing all his buttons and you know it.

"Better stop before someone calls the cops on us for indecent exposure," he murmurs. "I want you in the house. Now.”

“Sorry,” you smile innocently. “Not done with the car. In fact, that soap’s drying on it now, it’ll make stripes.”

You turn around and pick up the hose, teasing him with the view of your ass. Dave slaps your right buttock, making you yelp.

“Be quick,” he tells you and goes towards the front door. His cocky stride change into a run when cold water hits him square in the back, and your laughter chases him indoors.

He takes off his wet shirt and changes into shorts before taking a cold can of beer from the fridge and going back out. Donning his sunglasses, he makes himself comfortable in a recliner on the porch, pops open the beer, and settles to watch you work. You shoot him a smirk but don't pay him much attention – although you do lean over the hood more than necessary, displaying cleavage or denim-covered ass to him. He’s half hard inside his shorts and if the front of the house had been more secluded he would definitely have whipped out his dick and rubbed one out.

Or had you on your back on the hood of your wet sedan.

Bent you over it and fucked you from behind.

Made you squirt all over the clean, shining surface of your car.

Fuck. He takes a long swig of the beer.

You give the car one last rinse and dry off the wipers with a piece of cotton waste. Straightening your back, you once again wipe your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand, satisfied at a job well done. As you start to roll up the garden hose, Dave loses his patience. He puts two fingers to his mouth and gives a shrill whistle that makes you look over to him. You can read his eyes despite his sunglasses and, with raised brows, you saunter over to him, taking your time. Your flipflops are slapping against your bare feet and despite hating flipflops more than anything else, it doesn’t make Dave cringe this time.

“Really?” you purr when you reach him. Dave gives you a toothy smirk.

“Humor me,” he asks you. “Neighbor's still watching and I want him to still be looking for his jaw when his family gets home.”

“You’re such a gorilla,” you sigh, but of course you love it. You know how Dave is and you wouldn't be with him if you couldn't handle it. Obediently, you bend down to kiss him. When you bite his lower lip, he gives a little growl.

“Inside,” he commands you in a low voice. “Now.”

“Not so fast,” you smile and reach for his beer. He stares at you through the dark lenses of his sunglasses as you knock back what’s left in the can and burp discreetly behind your hand.

“Okay, now we can go in.” He throws the sunglasses on the small table next to the recliner and gets up smoothly.

"Move that ass for me." Another order, not a wish. A small smile playing on your lips, you turn around and slowly walk to the front door, swaying your hips, looking over your shoulder in a most coquettish fashion.

"Like what you see... daddy?"

"You'll find out soon, baby girl."

Your skin and nipples knit over and it's not just because you've stepped into the house where the air conditioning immediately hits your warm, sweaty skin. You turn around just as Dave closes the door behind him. The feracity in his face makes your cunt bottom out as he grabs you by the arm and maneuvers you around. He presses you against the front door, into the vertical crevice with the fogged window glass. It's just wide enough to fit your frame. You hold your breath as he leans in, his breath hot on your skin.

"Have you been good?" he asks in a low voice. You shake your head only to give him a reason to prompt you, maybe give you a little slap.

"Words, baby girl, use them."

"I haven't been good at all, daddy." You look at him from under your eyelashes.

"You say that with such pride," he sighs, as if he's deeply disappointed in you. "Why do you enjoy being bad?"

"I don't, daddy," you assure him breathlessly, "I just am. I can't help it."

"Like fuck you can't. You do this to spite me, don't you?" His fingers ghost over your cheek, delicately. "You parade your half-naked self around in front of everyone just to rile me up, don't you?"

His hand closes around your throat and your heart skips a beat.

"Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes, daddy," you moan, your lips hungry for him. "I do it so that you'll punish me. I... I need your mouth, daddy, please."

"You can do better than that." He's relentless, so you beg, both your hands coming up to hold the wrist of his hand that's choking you. Not to try to let him release you, but because you know he likes it when you pretend to struggle a little.

"Please, daddy, kiss me. I'll be good for you if you just let me have one kiss," you whine, moving your body against his. "Nobody kisses me like you do, daddy, kiss me to remind me that I belong to you."

Dave humours you sooner than you expected. His kiss is searing and he loosens his hold of your throat slightly to allow for better breathing.

"Safeword?" he asks you quietly when he finally withdraws and you're breathless, trembling, soaked through.

"Pentagon," you answer immediately, locking eyes with him to show him that you're fully capable of consent. He touches your lips with his, softly, in reply. The kiss is sweet and holds no power play.

"Good girl." Your two favorite words that make you feel flushed, time and time again. Your face follows his when he draws back from the kiss, but he steps back, smiling wickedly.

"You stay right there. You have to earn it."

"Yes, daddy," you answer obediantly, keeping your back against the door, feeling the warm glass of the vertical frosted window against your back. Dave lets his dark gaze wander over your body, taking all of you in. You could swear that he can smell your wet cunt and hear your hearbeats.

"Undress, baby girl," he tells you. "And tell me what a fucking tease you are."

You hold back on the confident smile that threatens to spread on your lips. Dave wants you seemingly helpless. But there's no reason why you can't torture him a little, as well.

You reach around to pull on the bikini string on your back and the cups of your bikini loosen.

"I am - "

you pull the string around your neck and the top falls to the floor.

" - such - "

slowly, you unzip your shorts and slide them down your hips, the bikini bottoms coming off at the same time.

" - a fucking - "

you kick off your pants and flip-flops and stand naked before him, meeting his hungry eyes innocently.

" - tease, daddy."

"And what do teases get?" Dave breathes. You can see from the tightness of his neck muscles, the way he closes his fistr, and the outline of his hard dick in his pants that he's having a hard time holding it together. He's usually very patient but it seems that the heatwave has taken its toll on his nerves.

"They get punished."

"That's right, baby girl. Now, turn around and stick your ass out."

Lower lip caught between your teeth, you obey as slowly as you can. You even give him a little shake of your ass when you lean forward against the door.

"No, sweet girl," Dave tuts behind you. "You wanted to show yourself. Press your tits against the glass."

"What?" you gasp, not sure you heard correctly.

"You heard me. Press your tits against the window. Don't make me repeat myself."

This is new. You step a little closer to the door where the glass of the window is warm against your skin. Hands on either side of the window, you lean your chest against it. Even if the glass is fogged, something crammed up against it like this will be visible on the outside and you can only imagine what your tits look like from the other side of the door. There is a front lawn between the door and the sidewalk, there shouldn't be an risk of anyone coming over, or looking, why would anyone stand on the sidewalk and stare at your front door?

"Is my little princess okay?" You startle when you feel Dave's hand tenderly curving over your ass cheek, and you decide that you are okay with this.

"Yes, daddy." You brace yourself against the door.

"Good. Now, count them out, baby girl." His hand leaves your skin and not a breath later, lands on it again with a sharp slap. You yelp in surprise and gasp out One. He's building up to it, you can tell because this wasn't so bad, he's capable of much more force.

The second slap comes on your other cheek and is a little harder.

"Two," you moan.

"Good girl," Dave praises you in a low voice as he moves his hand over to your other buttock before raising it. This time, the slap stings and you squeeze out the right number. Alternating between your buttocks, he adds more force to each spank and when you reach eight, your buttocks are burning as much as your pussy.

"Is that enough, baby girl?" His hands are warm on your sensitive, glowing ass. You're breathing heavily and a part of you wants him to go on, find out how far he can take you, but you need to be able to sit tomorrow.

"Yes," you whine. "Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my girl," he soothes you. "You took that like such a good girl. Daddy's very proud of you."

"Please," you keen, now desperate for him to touch you where you need him the most. He has spanked all the confidence out of you and now you're just a simpering fool for him. "I'm so wet for you, daddy, I need you."

"Oh, my pretty little girl." Dave shoves his tented shorts against your ass and it stings in the most delicious way. "You took your spanking so well, you deserve a reward."

You almost sob when his fingers reach your dripping cunt.

"My wet, filthy girl," he growls and presses down on your clit. Instinctively, you buck against him and your tits come loose from the window. You gripe insolently at the loss of his touch when he withdraws his hand and instead pushes you back against the glass.

"Remember why you're here, my pet."

"Yes, daddy."

"Tell me."

"Because... I paraded my half-naked self in front of the whole neighborhood." You squirm when he slides his wet fingers over your ass.

"That's right. So now you get to show everyone what it is that I own."

"Yes, daddy. But please..."

"I got you, my pet."

You moan loudly when his fingers push into your slickness and moan again even louder when he starts to work your clit.

"Such a wet little cunt for me," he murmurs into your ear as he crowds you against the door. "Go ahead, baby girl, you can cum whenever you wish, you have my permission."

"Thank you, daddy," you hiss as you let the pleasure take over you. "You're so... so good to me... I love you, daddy."

"And daddy loves his baby girl." Dave presses a kiss to your shoulder, then bites it and growls. "Cum for daddy, baby girl, cum all over my hand."

His thick fingers are hitting you just right and you feel the pressure build up like clouds before a storm and you know it's going to blow you apart, you want it to blow you apart, you need it to, you have to -

"Daddyyyy...!" Your scream is helpless and pitiful as the orgasm tears through you in a release that manifests itself in a spray of liquid that splashes over Dave's hand and spreads in drops around both of you. You hear Dave's excited Fuck, baby girl, that's it but you barely recognize it as a sound coming from the same room because he's still fucking you with two fingers and his thumb on your clit and GOD you squirt again, your feet are soaked in it and you're sobbing, daddy, daddy, please -

"One more, baby girl."

No, you can't, not another one, no, you'll burst, you'll break, you'll die, yes, yes, do it, fucking do it, and he does it and your shaking legs are glistening with the wetness.

"Good girl," Dave gasps. "Such a good girl, I've never fucked such a good girl before." Your cunt clenches at his words, god, how can you want more? He pulls you upright and turns you around before slamming you back against the window. Pulling down his shorts just enough to free his cock, he lifts one of your legs and hooks his arm around the thigh before sliding into your hot wet mess of a pussy. You wrap your arms around his neck tightly, afraid you'll lose your balance and fall, but his strong arms keep you where you should be.

"I got you, baby girl," he grunts and lets you draw him in for a sloppy kiss. Your arms going under his armpits and around his shoulders as Dave starts to fuck you with furious intent, like his vigorous effort is to make a dent shaped like your ass in the front door window. You break the kiss to let out your moans of Own that pussy, daddy, show me who owns that pussy and he buries his face against your neck, biting it, all the while fucking that wonderful wet, tight little pussy of yours. You tighten around him rhythmically and it’s fucking fantastic, he can’t have enough of it and he knows that he’ll blow soon, he’ll come so hard into that pussy that he fucking owns, he owns all of you and you can parade yourself around the yard and in the grocery store and wherever you fucking want to but only he gets to fuck you, only he get to be with you and sleep next to you and only he can make you make those sounds that you're making now when you're tensing up with another impending orgasm and jesus fucking christ –

He spills himself into you with a loud grunt just as you yell something unintelligible right next to his ear. He fucks into you a couple of extra times for good measure before slipping out and letting your leg down, but keeping his arms around your waist to make sure you won’t fall.

You blink your eyes open, not sure when you closed them in the first place. Dave's looking at you with that tender gaze that he saves for you only.

"My good, filthy girl," he smiles. You smile back, exhausted, hot and cold at the same time, soaked, dirty.

"Is that... how you keep me to yourself?" you manage, "by putting my tits and ass on display in the front door window?"

"You know it, baby girl." He puts a hand on your hip, beckoning you to turn around. "How is said ass? You need some aftercare, my love?"

You turn your behind for him to see and try to peek over your shoulder. "What's it look like?"

"Gloriously red."

"Mm, feels like it, too. I'm good. You were good to me." You look at the front door and see the round, oily tell-tale shapes on the window glass, and running drops of your release. Turning back to Dave, you grin sheepishly.

"I'll clean up," Dave volunteers, pressing a kiss to your neck. "You go grab a shower."

"Thanks, baby." Gingerly, you crouch to pick up your clothes and make your way to the stairs. As you ascend them, you hear him muttering.

"Who the hell washes their car on a hot sunny day anyway?"

You can't help yourself.

"Bad girls who want a spanking and know their daddies are on their way home from work, that's who!" you let him know. A second passes before you hear him curse low and then he comes running after you. Shrieking with laughter, you try to escape into the bathroom but Dave catches up to you in the bedroom and tackles you onto the bed.

"You wicked, wicked girl," he berates you before devouring your mouth with his.

#my fic #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfic #dave york #dave york fanfic #dave york x you #dave york x reader

[ihassheepquake]

DC's Batwoman 3.05 "A Lesson From Professor Pyg" has aired on the CW and I'm here to talk about it

Yes, I am a day late on this but we're going to ignore that because I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick and have been dying all week. Not gonna lie, Professor Pyg is an unexpected villain. I personally only know him from Batman: Arkham Knight so I don't know if he has any kind of connection to Batwoman in the comics. But I think it'll be fun. He was weird and creepy in Arkham Knight, so I expect he'll be weird and creepy here.

Something about Alice in pyjama pants and a ratty old t-shirt is amazing. She's always so put together and preppy. It's very different. And yet again, I love her dynamic with Sophie. Arguing about wine while they think a serial killer is on their balcony, only for said killer to just be Ryan. And Ryan just having absolutely no time for Alice's shit.

Ryan and Alice gossiping about Selina and Bruce's sex life, love it.

FAKE DATING TROPE HELL YEAH!!

So Jada's chef is definitely Professor Pyg. All the more reason not to like her. How many supervillains is she working with?

Oh these girls really were not prepared for this whole fake dating thing. That story was a disaster. And that line from Ryan about how "Sophie would put her arms around me and tell me everything would be ok" is absolutely not a lie. Ryan really likes her. I haven't been 100% sure on whether or not the show wants us to ship them like it did with Sophie & Kate but yeah, we're definitely supposed to ship them. And I'm not mad at it. Maybe I will.

I wonder what Marquis's goal in all of this is. I think he told Ryan last week that he had always felt like something was missing and she was it, but honestly that might not have happened. But if it did, is that really what's going on? Is he trying to spite his mum? I think he's trying to use Ryan to gain control of Wayne and use that to show up Jada. Show her up how is still TBD.

I'm sorry, did they just make a jab at that "heroes don't eat pussy" drama?? "I didn't think heroes did that" hello??? If that's what they were trying to do, I love you Batwoman writing team. And calling Talia al Ghul kinkier than a garden hose??

This random girl Marquis brought just dragging everyone in the room through the filth like it's nothing. And now Ryan giving Jada shit for being a bitch, love her.

Is there a reason so many supervillains are just people who got slighted by their bosses, usually bosses who are millionaires? I'm guessing a critique on capitalism for sure (which, friendly reminder, comic books have always been political so yes, that's a thing they do).

Of course Jada Jet has a bookcase door.

Some new Pamela Isley lore?? I've decided that Renee and Pam were girlfriends in college. So Renee wants to find a way to bring her Pam back and get rid of the Poison Ivy identity.

I appreciate the detail of having the ladies take off their heels. That's one of the things that would usually be ignored.

Is this really how EpiPen's work? Cause I don't think it is. Magically saving your body from a poison in a matter of seconds seems a little out of their capabilities. And now Marquis is a murder. In self-defence sure, but still.

Oh, so Marquis is actually fucked in the head. Like, fucked fucked. So yeah, he really does have some wild ulterior motive with this whole thing with Ryan. Oh my god, is he becoming a new Joker??

Well, next week we'll find out more about all this crazy shit starting to go on DC's Batwoman 3.06 "How Does Your Garden Grow?"

#batwoman cw #hbo max batwoman #batwoman (dctv) #ryan wilder #mary hamilton #luke fox #beth kane #sophie moore #renee montoya #batwoman #batwing #alice #jada jet #marquis jet #lazlo valentin #professor pyg #pamela isley #posion ivy

[brutal-nemesis]

Spiral Day 2021: Cycle(-stys) of Yikes

Waddup y’all out how’s spinning out going? Good, good, love to hear it. Hey does anyone want to watch me break Castys? It’ll be funny I swear ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ In reality it’s INCREDIBLY messed up so please heed the warnings shit gets dark But uh yeah for context this is when he’s stuck in the lab ✨

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: lab whump, dehumanization, muzzle, organ harvesting and noncon surgery referenced, the boy goes nuts, starvation, dehydration, implied self-harm, implied autocannibalism 

Castys thought endless torment would be a little more exciting. 

Not that he’d expected it to be fun, but it was just...boring. Every damn day was the same. They’d drag him out of his cell to the same room, strap him to the same table, cut him open with the same knives and take out the same organs. Well, no, the organs they took varied by the day. But he only had so many different ones, so at some point he’d experienced it all before. The tests had a horrifically wide variety to them, but the common theme seemed to be Painful and Terrible and 0/10 Would Not Recommend. 

He’d fantasize about being back on his ship often to distract himself from everything. He’d imagine the sound of the waves, the feel of the spray in the wind, the smell of salt, his crew by his side...the thought of them made him happy and sad at the same time. He missed them all so much (except for Harris, he was a bitch), but the fact that he was here meant they were all safe and happy. Yeah, that was why he was stuck in this stupid place, those darned mortals and their tiny lifespans that he just had to get all sympathetic about and give himself up to these psychos so they didn’t spend the rest of their little lives in misery. Instead, he was going to spend the rest of his much longer life stuck in-no, he was going to get out...somehow.

But how? He didn’t have anything to pick the locks with. He was constantly restrained, either strapped to a table or chair in the lab or being manhandled from one room to the next by people who were ridiculously stronger than him. He’d tried to rush past the guards when they came to get him from his cell, but they’d caught him and chained his ankles together, making it nearly impossible for him to even walk. The short chain connecting his ankles and the muzzle they’d strapped to his face a couple weeks in were never taken off, just permanent additions to what it was like to be Castys. And if they took the muzzle off, it was just so they could mess with his mouth, and it went right back on afterwards, because why give food and water to someone who can’t stay dead?

So it went. Castys started to forget what it was like to walk normally, to speak with other people, what it felt like to eat, to be touched in a way that didn’t hurt, to be treated like a person. There was only the cycle of wake up, get dragged out, get sliced open, get poked and prodded and stabbed and studied, get dragged back, fall asleep and pray that tomorrow would be a little better, or even a little different. He could vaguely keep track of time by how blood-crusted his skin was, a way to tell how long it had been since the last time they’d hosed him down and chopped off his hair. The ship he dreamed of never went anywhere anymore, it was stuck, like him, because there was only here, wasn’t there? Everything else was just a delusion. The boy had always been in a cage, the ship had always been in a bottle. The square of the sky he could see out the window was there to trick him into thinking there was something else out there, but he knew there wasn’t. There was only here, and there was only the cycle.

The cycle, though, began to change, so slowly as to almost be imperceptible from one day to the next. Tests were a little shorter. Less organs were taken. They left him alone for a minute more. He hardly noticed it was happening until one day...they didn’t come for him at all. At first he was alright with it, he preferred the loneliness and the quiet to the table and the pain. But not dying at their hands every day meant the condition of his body wasn’t being reset constantly. Soon enough, hunger and thirst began to claw at him. Even if he had something to eat or drink, that muzzle was still stuck to his face, no matter how much he fiddled with it. Or maybe that was just a part of him, maybe he didn’t have a mouth, and this was just his face.

Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-

Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.

The tears, at least, moistened his dry tongue.

He drew lines. Some were faint, and some were vivid. The vivid ones were good, they were brilliantly red, they tasted so sweet, they pulsed and burned like stars. He drew so, so many, and every one was new and different and brilliant. Little cracks in the never ending cycle of monotonous agony. They let him feel for a moment like his thirst was quenched. The cracks widened, chunks broke off the sides, and then that constant feeling of hunger went away, too.

And so it went, drawing and sucking and biting and chewing in an attempt to satiate those cravings, but it was never enough, never enough, and he would wake up to unbroken skin, and the cycle could start all over again. Maybe he could have counted somehow, how many times it happened, but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t an end to count down to, there was just wake up and hurt and drink and scream just to hear something and wait for death so we can start again just wait just wait it’s coming the ship is sinking in the little bottle but it always comes back up please just let me rest just let me go I can’t do this again I can’t I can’t-

There was a new sound. A creak. Footsteps. They came back, old memories of something outside the cycle. There was someone-or was it something-standing on the other side of the bars. Its eyes were so white and empty, a color he hadn’t seen in so long that he couldn’t help but stare. It stared back, eyes narrowing and then widening.

“Castys?” He cocked his head. That sound, that word, it meant something, right? It did, it did, he was sure it did, but...what was it? And what...who was that? The more he looked, the more he was sure that there was something familiar about that silhouette. It was...distinct. Unmistakable. Unique. He didn’t remember who it belonged to, just that he recognized it. It was a someone, yes, yes, not an it, not-an-it-or-I’ll-tear-your-throat-out. So when they opened the door to his cell, when they came in, when they smiled at him, fangs flashing in the dim light, he wasn’t afraid, even if he should have been.

“I finally found you.”

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101

#i wrote something #spiral day #spiral day 2021 #castys #immortal whumpee #lab whump #dehumanization #referenced organ harvesting #implied self harm #implied autocannibalism #mystery ''rescuer'' will stay mystery because i said so #(its because im lazy and slow at writing) #me every five minutes while i was writing this ''this is fucked!!!'' #it's a break from the usual whump but also funny. now it's just whump but i go ham #so like sorry if you were expecting the usual Extreme Sarcasm hours and also a piece that was less fuckin nuts #but it was fun :) i just love a broken little man #he snapped like a little twig! #he's stuck there for 243 years fyi #which would be enough to drive anyone crazy ya know? #this ended up being a more metaphorical spiral...what i originally wanted was power drill shenanigans #but i just couldnt think of anything so we ended up with this like. actual ''plot'' stuff #maybe i'll write when the capture him someday cuz he gives himself up and its very sexy #hopefully this isnt like too dark tho...who knows maybe it's not too bad for people since everything's kinda vague #next month we will return to your regularly scheduled sarcastic man #im always happy to write more in detail about his time in the lab too! this was just a very general overview #but obviously i've got lots of time to work with so hmu if you have any experiment requests!!

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

Okay so after a lot of contemplation, I've officially made an f/o rp blog for Leo,,, so it's like an f/o takeover but,, all the time,,,,,,

Here comes the boy @liam-nahr-doh... feel free to send some asks if you wanna 👉👈

#for some reason after just making this i am SHY #hhhhhnnnnwnndbfbdbd fiancé........ #boy in blue #he's self shipping again get the hose #arlo talks

[ravencatroleplay]

Luna was heading back to the star fleet head quarters since the explosion of the London archive building there was now a man hunt. She didn't know who could have done this and why. As she got to the head quarters and met up with Kirk they walked together down the hall to the conference room.

She took a seat next next to her father Marcus and looked at the tablet in front of her. As he spoke about who had done this she saw the man John Harrison. This was the man that Marcus had sent to London to watch over. Why would he do this? Why the archive building? Luna studied the detail of him through the photos seeing how attractive he was.

Luna had tuned out her father and just looked through Harrison's file of what was shown. For someone being in star fleet and so called dangerous and smart. There wasn't much about him just then Kirk began to speak out. He questioned why take down the archive if everything was open to the public? Both Luna and Kirk spoke out the same thing realizing that it's a trap to gather the admirals in one place.

Luna felt a uneasy sense run through her as she quickly stood up and yelled out "every one get out!"

Kirk stood up as red lights shown through the glass blazing up the room along with sounds of humming. Everyone began to stand as Kirk yelled "clear the room!" Luna quickly pulled Marcus down behind the table as the conference room lit up with sounds of lasers. The others began to yell as some got hit while Luna quickly stood up grabbing a near by gun. She stood up dodging everything and began to shoot at the flier.

Kirk followed behind her and quickly thought of a solution. He took the gun from her as she yelled out "what are you doing!?" She just watched Kirk tie the hose to the gun and chucked it to the flier watching the gun get sucked up into the turbine. The wall got ripped out as Luna grabbed Kirk and pulled him out of the way.

She smiled at him saying "smart thinking kirk". "Thanks". He said smiling back to her. They both stood up off the floor watching it spin out of control and go down.

But they both saw who was flying John Harrison. Lunas eyes lock onto his watching him transport away.

Later Marcus called down Luna to have her go on a man hunt to take down John Harrison and to bring along 72 tarpedos to fire at him. The only reason Marcus was having her go is because he knows she is capable of taking him down. Marcus had sat down with Luna in private to tell her about how she was found by him self and admiral pike. Again she asked Marcus if there was any one else like her a genetically made being. But again he said no that she was the only one.

So it was now time to aboard the enterprise along with Carol her sister who snuck onto the ship. Luna of course did not mind her coming along since she told her that she needed to get put more.

After aboard the enterprise carol teased Luna about how Kirk has a crush on her. They watched Scotty and Kirk walk off as Luna went to go after Kirk seeing scotty had the captin his tablet. Scotty looked over at Luna saying "hello lass sorry to say my goodbyes and Jim she is cute dont screw it up." Kirk looked at Luna to say something but she held up her hand saying "no need to say anything I will meet you at the bridge."

She left and found her way to the bridge then soon kirk followed in after. Everyone was in their place as Luna stood next the captains chair and the enterprise was ready for take off. Kirk decided to make a speech to the crew explaining what was happening.

The enterprise was knocked out of warp as Luna and Kirk were thrown across the bridge. He wrapped his arm around her to brace the impact against the controls. They found out the ship was right off from Klingon space and will take a shuttle to retrieve Harrison. Kirk had Luna tag along for the ride to kronos to help retrieve him.

The whole ride there was awkward since uhura and spock were having their arguement the Kirk trying to flirt with Luna. Asking her out on a dinner date after this was all over and done with. The shuttle got hit and was getting tailed by some klingons only barely getting away but then ended up surrounded. They had to land and made a deal to have uhura talk to them in their native tongue. The other stood back in the shuttle but soon things turned when the Klingon was about to attack her. But a shot to them came out of nowhere and Luna was the first to run out with the phaser and began to shoot.

@khanstartrekrp

@khandoingkhanthings

#the beginning of Khan and Luna

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Sugar Sweet Smiles

So, this was more of writing warm-up the past couple of weeks after I hadn't written in over a month, so I'll be honest, it's not really up to my standards lol. I also didn't edit it because I knew I would just never post it, if I did. I also have only just started writing for BNHA so I'm still feeling out the characters. It's likely that this could be pretty OOC, but that's up to y'all to decide lol. Also, this fic feels a lot more bitter now that my brother-in-law ruined Christmas by bringing home COVID, but I hope you all get some joy out of it!

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

Ships: EraserMic

Summary: It's Christmastime, and Shouta and Hizashi have a very important tradition to introduce to Eri and Hitoshi.

Word Count: 2526 words

[ao3 link]

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

Shouta sighed as Hizashi got distracted by yet another shiny decoration in the store. They were supposed to be shopping for ingredients, and their house was already decorated to a point that was nearly sickening. Did they really need a fourth wreath? Where would it even go?

Next to him, Hitoshi looked on in amusement, periodically glancing down to type something on his phone. He was probably texting Midioriya or Kaminara, based on what Shouta had seen of the budding friendships before UA had let out for Christmas break. 

Eri, meanwhile, sat in the children’s seat in the cart and seemed mesmerized with the entirety of the grocery store in general. They hadn’t had many chances to take her out since she came into his and Hizashi’s care, and she was still fascinated every time she experienced the world.

“Hizashi,” Shouta said sternly.

Hizashi froze where he’d been trying to place some gaudy outdoor ornaments into their cart. He gave Shouta a nervous grin.

“Yes, dear?”

“Baking supplies, Hizashi. Not decorations. We don’t have any more room.”

Hizashi pouted. “We have room.”

Shouta raised an eyebrow and Hizashi's pout intensified. He did, however, place the ornaments back onto the shelf as Hitoshi snorted in quiet laughter. Shouta started the cart moving before Hizashi could get distracted again.

“Compromise,” Hizashi said as Shouta directed them to the correct aisle. “You let me get the cats Christmas sweaters, and I’ll stop buying decorations. Well, this year, at least.”

Shouta snorted. “I think Tigress, Kermit, and Blanket would sooner kill you than allow you to put sweaters on them.”

Hizashi stuck his tongue out at Shouta, making Eri giggle and Hitoshi roll his eyes with a grin. Shouta decided not to react and simply point to the flour on the shelf behind Hizashi, a silent request to get what they actually came to the store for.

The rest of the shopping trip went similarly, with Hizashi acting more like a child than either of their actual children and Shouta denying the begrudging fondness that filled him at Hizashi’s actions.

They did wind up getting Christmas sweaters for the cats.

The recipe they were using was one they’d gotten from Hizashi’s mothers. It was an old Yamada family recipe, but they constantly joked that a grandparent had probably gotten it out of a dime-a-dozen cookbook ages ago and passed the recipe off as their own. Either way, Shouta had been obsessed with the things since he and Hizashi were 15 and he tried them for the first time, and he refused to let the butter cookie tradition die even after Hizashi moved out of his mothers’ house.

Hizashi said it was cute and teased him about being nostalgic. Really, Shouta would just kill a man to have more of those cookies.

And now they had more people to bring into the tradition.

Hizashi washed his hands as Shouta lined up their ingredients and supplies. Hitoshi leaned up against the opposite counter and watched him with lazy eyes. Eri slowly approached the counter Shouta was setting up on and grabbed the edge, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes to see the surface.

“I’ve never made cookies before,” she said quietly.

“Well,” Hizashi said, loud enough that Hitoshi jumped, “it’s a good thing we’re here to teach you how!”

A smile tugged at Shouta’s lips as Hizashi carefully lifted Eri up to sit on the counter, out of the way of the baking supplies Shouta had set up. Instead of giving Hizashi the satisfaction, Shouta turned toward the sink.

“She still has to wash her hands,” he said. “And now you have to rewash yours.”

Hizashi groaned dramatically. “We’re a family, we all share the same germs! It’s not that big of a deal!”

Shouta, carefully telegraphing his movements, lifted Eri off the counter and kicked the nearby step stool into place in front of the sink. He turned on the sink and set Eri down, leaving her to wash her hands herself.

“Well, I agree with Aiz--Shouta,” Hitoshi said, finally walking forward to stand next to Eri and wash his hands. “I don’t want your weird loud germs in my cookies.”

This time, Shouta allowed the grin to pass over his face, even as Hizashi gasped in a way that was far too dramatic to be real. Hizashi thrust his finger in their direction.

“Watch it,” he said. “I’ll start a flour war.”

“You will not,” Shouta said, shooting him a glare. “Wash your hands.”

And then, in a move that surprised even Shouta himself, he swiped his hand through the sink’s stream and splashed it at Hizashi. Hitoshi burst out laughing and stumbled away, probably to get himself out of the crossfire. Eri just glanced up at him, giving a little confused giggle.

“Are you looking to start a war, Aizawa Shouta?” Hizashi asked, voice low and dangerous.

“Are you looking to lose, Yamada Hizashi?”

Hizashi narrowed his eyes. Shouta saw him tense and leapt back, carefully not to jump so far that he would hit the counter across the room. Hizashi lunged after him, hands already covered in flour (and when had that happened?), and Shouta let out a startled laugh as he dodged. Hitoshi cackled and out of the corner of his eye Shouta saw him pull Eri to the edge of the room and out of the crossfire.

That moment of distraction cost him, and Hizashi’s hands grabbed his cheeks, rubbing the flour into his skin. Shouta gasped and darted away, making a break for the sink and pulling out the hose from the faucet, spraying it in Hizashi’s direction. Hizashi screeched, barely keeping his quirk in check.

“And to think you two are considered responsible adults and students are afraid of you,” Hitoshi quipped.

At that, Shouta straightened back up and cleared his through, turning the sink off. Hizashi laughed, whether it was at the situation or the embarrassed look on Shouta’s face was unknown, and walked over to whisk Eri back into his arms.

“Right, now that we’re all clean,” Shouta started, and Hitoshi snorted, the sound cutting him off.

“But Aizawa-san, you’re not clean,” Eri said as Hizashi put her back on the counter. “Your face is all dirty.”

Hizashi and Hitoshi laughed, and Shouta gently waved her off. 

“Baking can get a little messy, anyway, so it’s okay if I’m dirty with flour. We just don’t want to be dirty with germs and grime.”

“Germs and grime,” Eri repeated quietly, examining her hands.

Hizashi clapped his hands together. “And now for the main event!”

“Where’s the recipe?” Hitoshi asked.

Hizashi laid a hand over his heart. “Right in here, little listener!”

Eri squinted and Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. Shouta flicked Hizashi in the forehead.

“I have it memorized. ‘Zashi couldn’t remember it to save his life, and he always loses it when we write it down.”

“Yeah, that adds up,” Hitoshi said.

Hizashi pouted, so Shouta placated him with a kiss on the cheek. Hitoshi made a gagging noise.

“Start with the wet ingredients,” Shouta said, pushing Hizashi and Hitoshi toward the mixer. “Cream the butter and sugar first, before adding the egg, vanilla, or milk. Please don’t make that mistake again. Eri and I will work on the rest of the dry ingredients.”

Shouta grabbed a bowl and the dry ingredients and moved toward where Eri was seated.

“Why do you mix the ingredients separately?” Eri asked, leaning over the bowl as she watched Shouta measure out cups of flour.

Shouta paused. “I’m not really sure. I suppose to make sure they’re mixed evenly, but I’ve never really thought about it.”

Eri nodded seriously and Shouta couldn’t help but smile at the concentrated look on her face. He measured out the salt and baking powder and handed her one of the utensils. She grinned as they poured them together.

“Do you want to mix it?” Shouta asked.

Eri bit her lip.

“I can show you how, first, if you want.”

She nodded and Shouta grabbed a fork, not willing to dirty a whisk when they were such hell to clean afterwards. He carefully whisked the dry ingredients around with the fork, making sure not to spill any over the edges of the bowl. After a few stirs, he handed the fork over to Eri.

“I’ll hold the bowl still,” he said. “You just stir, and try not to spill any if you can. It’s okay if you do, though.”

Eri nodded, that look of concentration crossing her face again. She stuck the fork into the bowl and carefully moved it around, mimicking what Shouta had shown her to the best of her abilities. Shouta smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Just like that, but try to get the fork a little deeper. You’re only mixing the top, you want to try and get it all--good, just like that.”

Eri brightened at his praise and direction, her stirring getting more confident. Shouta looked up and met eyes with Hizashi over her head, the two of them sharing a smile before Hitoshi grabbed Hizashi’s attention again.

“We’re ready for the dry ingredients if you are,” Hizashi called a few moments later.

Shouta looked down at Eri. “What do you think, do you think it’s mixed up enough?”

Eri hummed and eyed the bowl with a critical eye. She gave the mixture a few more strong stirs before giving Shouta a self-assured nod. He nodded back and lifted the bowl in one hand and Eri in the other, walking over toward the mixer. He handed the bowl to Hitoshi.

“I figure you’re far less likely to drop this than Hizashi.”

Hizashi made an affronted noise and Shouta chuckled. Eri hid a smile in his shoulder as she watched Hitoshi pour a portion of the dry mixture into the mixing bowl. Then Shouta’s smile faltered when Hizashi got a devious look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” Shouta said, buying Hitoshi enough time to place the bowl with the rest of the dry mixture back on the counter.

Hitoshi frowned, looking back and forth between them. “Don’t what?”

Shouta narrowed his eyes. “He was going to prove that you were clumsy enough to drop it, too. By making you drop it.”

Hizashi put his hand against his heart. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing! On a completely unrelated note, Hitoshi do you happen to be ticklish?”

Hitoshi edged away from Hizashi, and Hizashi laughed.

“Good to know,” he said. “That’s important information for a parent to have.”

“I suddenly regret being adopted,” Hitoshi said, quickly moving behind Shouta, using him as a human shield.

Shouta let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling again. “Let’s just make the dough, come on. It still needs to chill before we can bake it.”

“Why do we chill the dough?” Eri asked.

Hizashi hummed. “I think it helps the cookies from spreading so much when you bake them? Or maybe that’s just with chocolate chip cookies…” Hizashi trailed off in thought.

Either way, Eri nodded, accepting the answer. Hitoshi moved back to finish mixing the dough.

Once the dough was wrapped up in wax paper and stuck in the refrigerator to chill, they washed their hands and retreated to the living room. Hitoshi and Eri were elected to choose a Christmas movie while Shouta and Hizashi collapsed onto the couch. Hizashi quickly cuddled up to Shouta, burying a hand into his hair.

“Someone’s affectionate,” Shouta chuckled.

“Gotta claim my spot before one of the cats does,” Hizashi replied, only curling in closer.

As if on cue, Blanket and Kermit came racing in from the office and launched onto the couch. They immediately curled up as close to Shouta as they could get, and it only made Shouta laugh harder.

The kids put on some cartoon that Shouta had probably seen before, and as soon as Eri plopped onto the floor, Tigress slinked out of wherever she’d been hiding and curled up in Eri’s lap. Shouta snapped a sneaky picture while Hizashi cooed quietly. 

And then Hizashi’s hand started scratching at Shouta’s scalp and he was out like a light.

He was shaken awake an indeterminate amount of time later and opened his eyes to movie credits rolling over the TV screen.

“Time to get baking!” Hizashi sang in his ear, clearly uncaring about the fact that Shouta just woke up.

He waved Hizashi and the kids on without him, taking a few more moments to gather himself and wake up. When Shouta finally made his way into the kitchen, Hizashi was helping Eri pick out which cookie cutters to use while Hitoshi was hesitantly sprinkling flour over the counter. Shouta nodded at him, going to fetch the dough.

“Good,” he told Hitoshi. “But keep the flour out, we’re going to need to put more down at some point.”

“Sho?” Hizashi called. “Would you mind helping Eri wash the cookie cutters? Who knows how long they’ve been in that drawer.”

Instead of answering, Shouta gently plucked Eri from her step stool and perched her on his hip, gathering the cookie cutters in one hand. He placed her down on the counter next to the sink and began washing the shapes she’s chosen, muttering all the while about being mindful of the sharp edges.

From there, Hizashi and Shouta made the silent decision to let the kids take over. Hitoshi swiftly, if a bit awkwardly, slipped into his role of older brother, showing Eri how to best use the cookie cutters. Hizashi and Shouta did, however, handle the oven portion of the baking, carefully taking the cut dough from their hands and placing them on baking sheets.

Hizashi gently chided them as Hitoshi tried to sneak a bite of the dough, and Shouta promptly distracted him. He sent a subtle wink in Hitoshi and Eri’s direction and saw them immediately began stuffing their mouths full of dough over Hizashi’s shoulder.

Shouta couldn’t help but sneak a few bites of his own when Hizashi turned back around to watch the kids. He was much more successful than they had been.

Soon enough, they were whipping up the frosting (or, rather, Shouta was while the rest of them completed the baking portion of the day) and digging their collection of sprinkles and food dye out of the pantry.

This was Hizashi’s favorite part, and it quickly became clear that it was Eri’s, too. The two of them had a knack for decoration. Even with Eri’s difficulty controlling where her frosting went, their cookies turned out decently better than Hitoshi’s or Shouta’s. Not that Shouta minded, he was more there to steal tastes of frosting over anything else.

Hitoshi quickly picked up on this habit.

After all the excitement, Shouta and Hizashi only let the kids have a couple of cookies after dinner before sending them to bed. Tomorrow was a big day, after all. Their first Christmas as a family was nothing to blink at, and Santa had a few things to get done before then.

Especially if the two of them kept getting distracted kissing frosting off each other’s faces.

#erasermic #erasermic family #erasermicfam #bnha #mha #boku no hero #my hero acadamy #My writing #erasermic fanfiction #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #dadzawa #yamada hizashi #present mic #presentation michael #dadmic #dad mic #yamadad #shinsou hitoshi #eri bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #food mention