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bowiebond · 2 years

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Hey Babe, Your Hair’s Alright (Hey Babe, Let’s Stay Out Tonight) - Chapter 7

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39597543/chapters/99122538

Summary: After Eddie is humiliated at graduation by the town who still believes him to be the murderer, he breaks. He recluses. Steve isn't taking his shit for a second, and he's not letting Eddie's fire burn out.

CW: Abandonment/Mommy Issues, sharing trauma, piercing needles

First thing that caught Eddie’s eye was a jewellery store, eyeing the dangling earrings and thick chain necklaces.

“You should get your ear pierced.” Eddie elbowed Steve who’s eyes widened.

“Me? Get my ear pierced? No way, I’m not a jewellery guy.” Steve crossed his arms and waved the notion off.

“You’d look good though. Little diamond stud,” He reached out and toyed with his right lobe, grinning as the other smacked his hand away. “Classy but cool.”

“My dad would kill me.”

“What, when he comes home in like, five years time?” Eddie drawled and Steve glared.

“They visit.”

“How often?”

“...I don’t know, maybe a month out of the year?”

“Then your hair should be long enough to hide it by then.” Eddie compromised with a cheeky smile.

“I’m not piercing it. End of story. I have enough scars.”

“A piercing is a scar of choice.” Eddie said like he was quoting someone but Steve doubted it.

“Come on, lets go elsewhere before you really do convince me.”

The next store is filled with clothes.

“This is so ugly.” Eddie gasped at an obnoxiously yellow plaid. “I kind of love it?” Eddie took it off the rack and laid it across his front, striking a vogue worthy expression. Steve chortled.

“That is awful.”

“I could rock it, don’t you think? Really bring the hick back into our hick town.” Eddie tipped his imaginary cowboy hat.

“Absolutely not.” Steve took it from his hands and hung it back up. “You look good in black, Eddie.”

“I can’t have any colour in my wardrobe?” Eddie walked backwards as Steve continued down the aisle, hands up in offense.

“Do you have any colour in your wardrobe?” Steve challenged and Eddie thought. He was tempted to say yes, to reveal that Steve’s sweater is the brightest thing amongst his wardrobe and one of his most adored items.

“...Does purple count?”

“Is it a band tee and mostly black?”

“...Yes.”

“Then no.” Steve grinned, shaking his head. He grabbed Eddie’s arm to stop him from walking into an older woman and forced him back around. “I need a jacket, come on.” He dragged him towards the aisle of men’s jackets and flipped through them like a catalogue.

“Hmm...” Eddie hummed as he looked himself, giving each a feel. He cringed at some, rubbing his fingers together until the awful textures left his skin. “Is this your style?” He pulled out a colorful puffy triangle shaped jacket that looked two sizes too big and Steve stared at Eddie.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Come on, try it on.” Eddie grinned. “It’ll be funny.”

“It’s ugly, Eddie.”

“You say ugly, I say different.”

“You just called plaid ugly!”

“Because it’s boring!” Eddie booed and took the jacket out of its hanger to hang it over Steve’s shoulder despite his wriggling. He stepped back and put a hand over his mouth to stifle a smile. “It’s...unique.” Steve looked like he was being swallowed by a skinned Sesame street character.

“I hate it.”

“Fashion is all about confidence, Stevie.”

“I have zero confidence right now, Eddie.”

“Buzzkill.” Eddie blew a raspberry as he took the jacket back. He riffled through more of them and brought of a cream cardigan. “Hey, mama bear, try this out.”

“I don’t have kids!”

“You have several, you harlot.” Eddie countered, Steve giving in to his demands and slipping his arms into the sleeves. Eddie patted his shoulders and smoothed his hands down his chest. Steve’s heart thumped as Eddie hooked his chin over his shoulder to get a good look. “You know,” He murmured lowly in his ear. “It’s not half bad. You look good when you dress cozy.”

“Shut up.” His cheeks burned. “I want a proper jacket, something nice.”

“Fine, fine.” Eddie pouted dramatically, helping him out of the cardigan. “You want something classy but masculine, right? So let’s skip the denim...” He dragged his fingers along the section of them, smoothing his hand over faux leathers. “Black feels too dramatic for day to day when it comes to you. Makes you look like you’re trying too hard to be intimidating against your usual wardrobe.” Unless it’s Eddie’s jacket. Steve looked good in Eddie’s jacket. Probably looks good in anything of Eddie’s.

Eddie licked his lips as he tried to get rid of that overly interesting thought, tapping a tanned brown leather jacket.

“Perfect.” He snatched it off the rack and Steve watched, enraptured as Eddie approached and swung it over his shoulders, allowing him to squeeze his arms into the sleeves. Eddie gave his shoulders a squeeze and adjusted his collar, smoothing his hands down his arms. “That should be...Fits good?” His focus finally broke as he flicked his gaze up to Steve’s.

Steve swallowed hard and nodded. It wasn’t too tight or too loose. Weighted but not bulky.

“I, uh, I like it.” Eddie’s lips curled up into a brilliant smile.

“Yeah. Me too. Looks good on you.” Eddie patted his chest and stepped back. “You should get it. They’re having a half price sale anyway.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I-I think I will.” And not because Eddie likes it, or because he’s looking Steve up and down like he can’t take his eyes off him. Just cause it fits well, and makes him feel good.

“Let’s go then.” Eddie stepped behind him and peeled the jacket off, folding it over his arm. “I wanna explore some more.” He smiles at Steve like he’s something dear and Steve’s heart feels like dove wings inside his rib cage.

“Me too.” He takes the jacket and pays for it, slipping it back on on the way out. It fights the chill of the shopping center. They browse for a while before Eddie spots the Bowling Alley.

“Dude, we have to play a game. I haven’t played in forever. Not since I was like, fourteen and our alley was still open.”

“Ah, yeah, it kind of went out of business for good in 84, huh?” Steve frowned.

“Not enough customers when everyone had curfews. It was only open half the year as it was.” Eddie smacked his lips. “Wanna make a bet?”

“...I should say no, but I’m really curious.” Steve admitted, side eyeing his friend. “What’s your conditions?”

“Three rounds. You win, you can have your pick at punishment. I win, you get your ear pierced.” Steve went to protest as Eddie put a finger up to silence him. “Doesn’t have to be today. But one day, you gotta do it, and I wanna be there.” Eddie grinned.

“And I get to pick any punishment if I win?” Steve reiterated and he nodded.

“Anything.” Steve scratched his jaw as he thought.

“Fuck it. I’ll win anyway.”

“Oh, you’re on.” Eddie grinned devilishly before grabbing Steve’s arm and dragging him towards the lobby. He asked for three games and fumbled out a couple of bills to pay.

“I told you, I’m happy to pay, man. It’s your birthday bash.”

“This was my idea, so let me pay for this one. I can afford a few games of bowling at least.” Eddie insisted, asking for his size in shoes. Steve doesn’t argue despite the reluctant little purse of his lips. He gets his own size and they waltz down to the lanes, sitting down at the couch to get their shoes on.

“Be prepared to feel pain, Harrington.” Eddie taunted.

“Prepared to eat dirt, Munson.” Steve smirked. “We know between the both of us, I’m the brawn.”

“You’re an ex-jock douchenozzle.” Eddie flipped him the bird as he took to the controls and named them both.

King and Freak, respectfully.

“Who is who?” Steve drawled.

“Oh, I’d look great in a crown.” Eddie gave a lopsided half-grin and took his position as first baller. Steve rolled his eyes and sat back to watch. Eddie picked up a bowling ball and looked back at Steve. With an exaggerated form, he hop, skipped and jumped towards his lunge, bowing like a jester as the ball rolled down the lane and knocked half his pins down. Steve turned away to snicker at the sheer ridiculous nature of Eddie Munson.

“Did I tell you I did ballet?”

“You did not do ballet.”

“You’re right, I didn’t, but I would look great in a tutu.” Eddie grabbed another bowl and took out another two pins before sitting down to allow Steve his turn.

The game passed in lows and highs for the pair. Steve won the first round, striking all his pins at least four times where Eddie failed to get a single strike. Steve thought he had the win in the bag until Eddie squared his shoulders, a grin curling onto his lips as he took another shot.

He cleared the pins. And he did it three more time before Steve accused him of cheating.

“Defamation! Defamation of character, I say!” Eddie cried as Steve shoved him.

“You totally let me believe you were shit at this! What, were you in a bowling club in middle school?”

“Bowling was one the few games I could play as a kid without flaring up my asthma.” Eddie revealed, taking the green bowling ball from Steve’s hands. With a practiced swing, it soared across the lane and knocked all but one pin down. He turned to Steve with a crinkly eyed smile. “Just needed to get back into the motions.”

“You ass.” Steve sighed in disgruntled disbelief. He took another bowl and finished off his roll with a completed set. He huffed. “...I didn’t know you had asthma.”

“Kind of grew out of it.” Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Used to be real bad when I was a kid. By the time I was sixteen, I only really had to worry about allergy season. I’m not really the athletic type anyway.”

“Must have sucked though. You couldn’t play any sports as a kid.”

“I preferred reading anyway.” He fibbed. He had wanted to join in when he was a kid, but he couldn’t without his lungs giving out. He could find adventure in his books though. He could sword fight princes with Westley, defeat wild beasts with knights, cast spells with sorcerers, seek out friends and magical rings with an array of creatures. Eddie had found an escape in those stories, and only delved deeper into his fantasy obsession when he was introduced to Dungeons and Dragons.

“I was never that good at sitting down for long periods.” Steve laughed awkwardly. “Probably why I didn’t make it into college.”

“I bet you could still go if you really wanted to.” Eddie assured as he grabbed a ball. “They got programs to boost up your credits, don’t they?”

“I mean, yeah, but...I don’t know what I want to do.” Steve watched as he cleared out half his pins. “Which makes me feel so dumb, because I have the opportunity to lead a good life without worry but the idea of following in my dads footsteps makes me break out in a cold sweat.” Steve sighed heavily. Eddie was staring at him with considerate eyes and Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m being a total buzzkill.”

“No, no, I get it, man.” Eddie finished his throw. “Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids.” Eddie shrugged. “When you feel you have to be something you’re not, it eats at you. And being unsure of what you want feels like hell when everyone is telling you to just herd on after them. Sheep's mentality - its easy but it cripples your individuality over time.”

Steve stared at Eddie, feeling like he was seeing a whole new side of his friend.

“You know, you’re actually pretty smart.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You know I don’t mean it like that.” Steve scoffed with a faint smile. “I mean, it’s like you don’t understand a person but you understand people. You’re aware of what people are like in the core of our lives.”

“I like to read.” Eddie smiled sardonically. “And I’ve been at the brunt of conforming assholes for a long time.” He side eyed Steve who blushed lightly with shame.

“Sorry. If I was a dick to you back then.”

“You weren’t directly, which I appreciated. But I get it. You were stuck in your box until you found a reason to break free of it.” Eddie smiled. “I’m glad you’re thinking about what you want in life instead of just following what everyone else wants. That mindset,” Eddie pressed a finger to Steve’s temple and nudged him slightly. “Is what changes lives. Even in the smallest ways.”

“I just don’t want to fuck it up. I only got one life, after all.” Steve scuffed his shoe against the floor.

“Pft.” Eddie grinned. “Depends who you ask, man.” With that, Eddie patted Steve forward to keep playing and by the end of the third game, Eddie was cackling his victory.

“Ugh, it’s gonna be so tacky, man.” Steve complained.

“A deals a deal!” Eddie ruffled his hair before running their shoes back to the front desk. It’s edging on four when they leave the bowling alley, and when Eddie passes the jewellery store, he gives Steve a look.

“You didn’t say it had to be today.” Steve reminded and Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah, but we don’t have a parlor in Hawkins, unless you want a home job by yours truly.” Eddie scooped his hair back to show off his ears, four silver rings on his left and three going up his right with a black stud through his lobe. Steve’s eyes trailed along the shiny jewellery, down Eddie’s strong jaw and pale throat. He looked good with his hair up...

Eddie dropped his hair back down and Steve forced himself to blink through his daze, to regain brain functions.

“So, you in?”

“Uh, sure.” Steve mumbled before he shaking his head. “I mean, I guess? God, I’m going to regret this.”

“Don’t be a baby, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Eddie blew off his anxiety, dragging him into the store. He snagged the packet of earrings he saw earlier, the silver with a shiny diamond-like center.

“Hey! Man, look, my friends was wondering if you took walk ins? It’s his first piercing and he wants to just get his lobe done, the usual poke and go.” Eddie spoke with confidence, dropping the packet on the table, feeling a little less out of place in the city where no one knew him.

“Your friend...” The guy looked at Steve, staring hard. Steve shifted awkwardly. “You got cash?”

“Uh, yeah. I got cash.”

“It’s gonna cost you. For the stabbing and the jewellery.” The guy pointed at the sign besides him and Steve winced at the phrasing.

“Don’t go scaring him, man.” Eddie laughed. “I’ll chip in half, how about it? Since it was my idea.”

“I’m never making a bet with you again.” Steve sighed, handing over his notes as Eddie forked over some of his own. The stoic guy counted it up and suddenly smiled.

“No problem, man, come on into the back.” He beckoned them to follow. “Hey, Becca, watch front counter, I got a client!” He barked, making the pair jump. Steve let out an anxious little wheeze and Eddie quirked a brow.

“Dude, seriously, it’s easy. It’ll be a super quick pinch.” Eddie rubbed his back and Steve felt vaguely sick.

“I’m not amazing with needles.”

“I mean, we could use a gun, but they aren’t super sanitary.”

“A needle gun sounds even worse.” All he could think about what that night held hostage by Russians. Yeah no, no needle guns were going anywhere near his neck.

“Yeah.” The man patted the chair in the backroom and started pulling on a pair of rubber gloves.

“I’m Rich, don’t call me Dick or Moby, I’ll be your needle enthusiast today.” He intoned with disinterest and Steve looked at Eddie like this was all his fault. Which it was. “Sit back.” Rich shoved Steve back into the chair with a smirk. “Left or right?”

“Huh?”

“Which ear?”

“Uh...” Eddie was on his left, so he tilted his head towards Rich. “This one’s fine.”

“Right. Cool.” He wiped something cold on the area and Eddie looked a little awkward.

“You sure you want the right done?”

“Yeah. It’s easier.”

“Uh, okay.” Eddie nodded and looked back up at Rich. “Just give him the needle, if you could.”

“We only use ‘em on the wriggly kids.” Rich huffed, bringing out a marker. He dotted Steve’s ear. “Look up.” Steve quirked a brow and did so, surprised by the small mirror that came up over his head. “All good?”

“Uh, yeah, looks pretty...on the center.”

“Mine’s uneven.” Eddie stage whispered to make Steve feel better and he chuckled.

“Of course it is. You probably did it in your bathroom.”

“I did.” Eddie grinned. “Wanna hold my hand, or are you a big kid?” He joked but Steve did take his hand. Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Rich stared at him with a deadpanned expression.

“I’m nervous, alright?” He defended poorly, breathing a little easier when Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Alright. I’ll count to three.”

“Okay.” Steve’s heart thundered as the man grasped his ear with the cool metal tool. He took in a deep breath and let it out slow.

“One, two...”

“Ow!” Steve yelped as Rich shoved it through. “You said three!”

“Never said I’d say three, just that I’d count up to three.” Rich shrugged. “Now don’t move, this will sting a bit.” He slid the needle through, threading the earring into place. Steve bit his lip as his ear throbbed, hot and sore.

“You did well, Stevie, I totally cried when I did mine. I’m a wuss.” Eddie grinned, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

“If is looks awful, I’ll kill you.” Steve grumbled.

“It’s a simple design.” Rich interjected, spraying the wound down to keep it from infection. “A pretty boy like you will look fine.”

“Pretty boy?” Steve muttered, looking at Eddie who only shrugged in agreement.

“You are a pretty guy.”

“Whatever.” Steve grumbled. He reached up to touch his ear but Rich snatched his wrist.

“Don’t touch it.” He warned in a deadly tone and Steve gulped. Rich let go and turned away to grab two sachets of saltwater. “I’m gonna give you these. Swatch your ear daily with it until it’s healed. Only once it’s healed can you change your jewellery. Don’t take it out unless your doctor says so or it will close up and you’ll have to come back.” He placed the packets in Steve’s hand and passed him the other earring while he was at it. “You paid for it, so in case you lose the other.”

“Uh, thanks, man...” Steve wanted to leave the damn chair already.

“If you ever want anything else done, give me a bell to book an appointment.” He passed him a business card from his back pocket and Steve almost dropped it with everything else already in hand. Rich watched him fumble and looked at their conjoined hands. Steve noticed and quickly unclasped them. He hadn’t even realised he was still holding onto Eddie.

“It’ll look awesome, Stevie.” Eddie reassured as Steve got out of the chair, patting his back. “Thanks Dick.”

“Rich.” Rich ground out.

“Oh yeah, right.” Eddie’s polite smile turning as a grin as he led Steve out.

“You totally did that on purpose.” Steve whispered.

“He was being one.” Eddie whispered back. Steve fell into a fit of silent laughter and Eddie joined him with little wheezy ones, leaning on each other as they left the store.

They decided to drive around for a while, taking in the sights, the pair pointing out iconic filming sights. Steve was convinced Eddie was a bigger film buff than he was with how many he knew.

“You think I know movies? Dustin could probably name every sight, actor and accident that happened on every movie you’ve ever seen.” Eddie scoffed.

“He is a smart kid.”

“Smarter than us.” Steve hummed his agreement. The sun was starting to dip, casting the sky in a orange and pink glow. Steve saw a sign ahead and squinted, getting an idea.

“Hey, speaking of movies, wanna go see one?”

“Huh? Sure, I guess. Any ideas of what you wanna rent?”

“I was thinking instead of renting we could watch it out here.” He pointed at the gate ahead. “It’s a Drive-In theater.”

“Ooo, surprise movie?”

“Surprise movie.” Steve agreed, pulling in. The man at the gate tapped the slot for them to put their movie in and Steve forked over a few dollars for both of them. He gave them the go ahead and Steve whistled as he drove further in.

“Busy already. Though, it is Friday night. At least there’s still a few good spots.” Steve settled his car into a spot a good distance from the screen by a bit to the left. “Can you see alright?”

“Yeah, this works.” Eddie unbuckled his belt and turned to get out. “I saw some food trucks on the way in. You set up the radio and I’ll come back with something tasty.” Eddie promised and Steve felt a little uncertain letting Eddie pick his meal but let it go. Eddie made a good choice earlier with lunch.

Once Steve was satisfied that he had the frequency right, he adjusted his seat back a bit to relax. His ear still felt swollen and sore but the pain had dulled. He can’t believe he let Eddie convince him to do that. His dad was going to throw a fit.

...When he eventually came home. It had been weeks since he and his mother were home. He was honestly glad to be out of the house. He wondered if Robin would like the jewellery or if she’d hate it like she hated cigarettes. Robin was picky, but she was his friend nonetheless. He adored her spirited nature.

Nancy would probably be surprised. Jonathan too. Max and Dustin will probably think its cool at least. Lucas will probably make up some scary what if story about it ripping out to freak him out. Steve’s pretty sure Mike mentioned wanting to get a piercing with El who had been dying to get hoops like Nancy’s. Will had been apprehensive during the conversation and Steve didn’t doubt that those two would be a bad influence and convincing him to tag along.

He smiled fondly as he thought of the kids. He was sure Erica was going to bully him endlessly about being tasteless and not going with something cooler.

Eddie spooks him from his trance when he comes back with a can under one arm, one under his chin, and both hands full with two food baskets.

“My Lord.” Eddie intoned like a older gentleman and Steve gave scoff even with how endeared he was by it, taking the baskets so he wouldn’t spill it all over his interior. He gave it a sniff and groaned.

“Nachos?”

“Nachos, man.” Eddie grinned as he shoved a chip into his mouth, passing Steve a can of coke. “Heard some kids chatting by the truck, apparently we’re watching Poltergeist.”

“God, Dustin begged me to let him rent it, but I refuse to deal with any ghost nightmares.” Steve groaned loudly.

“I haven’t seen it, honestly, I’m actually a huge scaredy cat. I mean, I watch them, but usually with all the lights on.” Eddie snorted.

“You better not have nightmares tonight.” Steve warned and Eddie laughed.

“Nah, I don’t get nightmares, not really. I mean, I get them occasionally but they mostly confuse me instead of scare me.”

“Why do they confuse you?”

“Cause they make no sense. Like giant rats. Or giant hamsters. Or an elephant about to stomp on me-”

“Do you have a height complex?” Steve has starting to smile, eyes sparkling with mischief as Eddie’s face contorted in offense.

“I do not!”

“You totally do. You know, I think I might actually be taller than-”

“You aren’t, we’re the same height.”

“...Totally taller. Just like, a touch-”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep, Harrington.”

“If you can reach me, you ant.” Steve bit a chip too loudly in the silent car, oh so smug.

“...I’m five ten, okay? It’s a perfectly fine height, I’m actually above the average-”

“I’m five eleven.”

“...What?”

“I’m five eleven.” Steve repeated, cheeks beginning to hurt from how hard he was smiling.

“It’s your fucking hair, Harrington!” Eddie cried and Steve threw his head back in laughter. “Your hair makes you taller!”

“They squish it down when they do height checks, Eddie!” Steve is wiping tears from his eyes when Eddie groans.

“You’re such a dick. Let’s just drop this!”

“No, no, it’s funny, I wanna keep it going, gimme a sec to think of more insults.” Steve wheezed, holding his stomach.

“I hate you, oh my god.” Eddie buried his face in his hands. “It’s middle school all over again.”

“Oh my god, you were barely grazing five three back then.” Steve remembered vaguely, snorting.

“I had a growth spurt! I am a good height now!”

“Baby Munson.” Steve cooed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Eddie whacked him away but Steve see a smile was forming.

“I’m ignoring you now, Harrington, you prick.”

Steve decided to let it go, still smiling to himself as they ate. Eventually, the movie started up and honestly, Steve had seen scarier shit in real life, but he still found himself flinching occasionally. His fear meter depleted when Eddie let out a scream at a jumpscare, clutching his arm that rested between them.

“Oh my god, you really don’t do horror movies, huh?” He realised out loud, shocked. Eddie flushed red, visibly, and looked down.

“Sorry man, I’m honestly kind of a coward.” He chuckled bitterly about it and Steve’s heart twinged. He hesitantly slid his arm up, finding Eddie’s hand in the dark. He linked their fingers together and his heart lurched when Eddie flinched.

“It’s okay to be scared...You know, pools kind of freak me out.”

“They...do?” Eddie shifted in his seat, closer to Steve.

“I know, certified lifeguard but I’m a huge pussy about pools? Sounds crazy.” Steve laughed at himself but it died quickly, a somber feeling taking hold of his heart. “But after finding out Barbara was killed at my party, I just...couldn’t stand the thought of getting in again. Early on, I thought if I did, I might get dragged in too. And drown. But after a while it just became...habit to avoid them. Any pool. Just gave me the heebies jeebies.”

“Were...were you scared back then? When you jumped into Lovers Lake?”

“I mean, we thought there was a gate down there. Of course I was a little scared, but I didn’t...have control over the lake, like I did my pool.” Steve shrugged, swallowing down the build up of emotion he thought he had long buried. “If I hadn’t been such a douchebag, so in love with Nancy and wanting to seem so cool in front of her, I would made sure she got home. She would lived, I think. Maybe not. I don’t know.” Steve sucked on his low lip and let it spring free from his teeth. “Nancy lost her best friend because I was stupid and young. We were stupid and young. I guess it’s one of the reasons we fell apart. I failed Nancy when I failed Barb.”

“You didn’t know, man.” Eddie squeezed his hand tight, rubbing his thumb over his. “You were like, sixteen. You didn’t know what would happen, and you couldn’t have known. You shouldn’t beat yourself over an accident.”

“She still died.” Steve said curtly, clenching his jaw when he noticed Eddie flinch. “Sorry. I just- touchy subject.”

“You have a lot of those.”

“So do you.” Steve looked at him pointedly. Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked away. Steve sighed softly and turned back to the film. He doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hand, not finding a reason too.

“...I live with my Uncle because my mom didn’t want me.” Steve turned to Eddie in surprised. Eddie stared forward as his thumb tapped against his. “I don’t have a dad, she didn’t who he was. But she had me, and then one day, she just left.” His voice grew tight as he spoke, licking his lip. “And I will never know why. Just that she did of her own...free will.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered and Eddie shook his head.

“It’s not your fault. I just got handed the shit stick.” He shrugged, looking down at his lap. His hair fell into his face and Steve’s heart constricted with sympathy. “So I get it. Kinda. Feeling like somethings your fault and not being able to change it. Because even if you do, they aren’t coming back, and you have to look the person left behind in the eyes every time you see them.” Eddie finally meets his eyes, brown eyes glistening in the faint light of the film. “It’s just really depressing when you have to look that person in the mirror every day.”

He frames it like its funny despite the way his voice wobbles and quacks and Steve is wrapping his arms around him before he can even think about it. Eddie is so tense in his arms, trembling and choking on the sob he’s holding back. He feels like a jack in the box about to burst.

“It’s okay.” His said this plenty of times to Will, to Dustin, to El and Max. Even to Nancy. “You can cry, Eddie.”

The grief crashes like a tsunami, sweeping Eddie up in its devastating wave as he crushed Steve to him, burying himself in the smell of apple pie and cinnamon. Eddie has always been a special kid. Sensitive despite his brashness. That’s what his Uncle always said. He’s a good kid.

Even he wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington

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waveypedia · 3 years

Text

Sunny Afternoon

Rymin Week Day 1: Childhood

2 4 5 6 7

Ao3

Ryan’s older sisters (before they deemed themselves too old and cool to talk to their little brother and the friend that was always attached at his hip) claimed making shapes out of clouds is a childhood rite of passage. Lying in the grass on a sunny afternoon, belly aching with laughter, Min finds he’s inclined to agree with them.

He and Ryan lie flat on their backs, the wild grass tickling their exposed cheeks and ankles, hands intertwined between them. Fluffy white clouds float slowly through the blue sky, breezing gently past as Ryan and Min shape them into characters and tales. The air is rife with the joyous, infectious laughter that accompanies such a comfortable spring afternoon.

Ryan raises his free arm, pointing. “That one looks like a guitar.”

“You think every cloud looks like a guitar,” Min chuckles good-naturedly. “Have some creativity.”

“Hey, I’m only telling you what I see,” Ryan retorts, grinning. “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us my parents should buy me a guitar.”

Min huffs out a laugh. “I’m not the one you need to convince.”

“Hmm.” Ryan turns away, gazing at the sky. “It’ll happen someday, though. I’m gonna get a guitar, and you’ll play your mini-synth, and we’ll perform concerts together!”

Min glances to the side, where, in his bag is abandoned next to Ryan’s, his mini-synth waits. “Until then, you can always sing,” he offers.”

“Pfft, I’ll sing anyway,” Ryan says, waving a hand, carefree and exuberant. “I just want to play as soon as possible.”

Min reclines, tucking his elbows behind his head. “You’ll get it eventually. You never give up when you set your mind to something.”

Ryan glances away, the slightest hint of pink tinging his cheeks. “But you’ll help me convince my parents, won’t you? They like you.”

“I’ll do my best,” Min promises, the epitome of seriousness. “We should work out a business plan.”

Ryan rolls over to face Min, propping his head up on the palm of his hand. “Like what? I’m just gonna… play the guitar.”

“Like what your practice schedule will be, and how you’ll take care of it,” Min says, tapping his fingers. “That’s what my parents had me do for viola.”

“I’m just gonna practice all the time,” Ryan promises seriously. “I’ll become a master at guitar.”

“You’ll need to be a bit more specific,” Min warns. “But I’ll help you with that. When we’re done, you’ll stand a much better chance!”

“Thanks, Min!” Ryan rolls over to tackle his best friend in a hug. Startled, Min lets out a squawk of surprise and rolls away, shaking with quiet laughter. Ryan wraps his arms around Min and starts tickling his sides, which only makes him laugh harder. “You’re the best!”

“You’re the worst,” Min wheezes out between peals of involuntary laughter. He finally shakes Ryan off and rolls away, crouching with his fingers wiggling threateningly.

Ryan backs up and pulls himself into a kneeling position, defensive except for his face-splitting grin. As always, he’s the first in motion, leaping towards Min with his hands outstretched and a face rife with amusement. Min rolls with him, laughing.

They tussle for a few minutes, giggling like the schoolchildren they are, until Min accidentally knocks Ryan’s glasses off of his head. They slip away from each other while Ryan finds his glasses and Min stands up to brush strands of grass off his clothes. Inexplicably, Min finds himself missing the warmth of Ryan’s easy, thoughtless touches.

The moment is over as soon as it began, with Ryan grinning at him behind his newly repositioned glasses. Min forgets the thought as soon as Ryan scoots over to him and lies down at his side, attention once again drawn to the sky. Min sits down, engrossed with his friend and their game.

Ryan turns to him with a toothy grin. “Well, Min? It’s your turn. Do you see any good clouds?”

“Hm.” Min leans back, resting his weight on his wrists. His fingers subconsciously knot among the strands of grass. After a moment of deliberation, he raises a hand. “That one looks like a bell, don’t you think?”

Ryan twists to see where Min’s pointing. “A bell? I don’t see it.”

“Like the kinds you find at hotels,” Min explains. “A… concierge bell, I think they’re called?”

Ryan scrunches up his nose, deep in thought. “Oh, yeah! I guess it kind of does.” He flops down on his back and scrutinizes the remaining clouds. “Huh, I think that one looks like a cat.”

Min smiles gently, content. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He breaks out into a giggle. “And that one looks like a giant caterpillar!”

“Heh, cat, caterpillar,” Ryan chuckles. “Maybe the cat will eat the caterpillar!”

Min rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Hey, use your eyes. The caterpillar cloud is way bigger than the cat cloud.”

“So?” Ryan hums, crossing his arms with mirthful petulance. “All that means is the cat is the underdog. I bet they could do it if they tried.”

Min snorts. “That’s pretty unrealistic, but I guess so is a caterpillar bigger than a cat.”

“Yes!” Ryan pumps his fist up and down with far too much enthusiasm than the situation requires, but Min only finds it endearing. Ryan laughs with euphoria, and Min finds himself giggling along. Ryan’s laugh has always been infectious.

“Fine, you win,” Min says with faux petulance, letting his back slide back down onto the grass. “Like this would ever happen in real life.”

Ryan grins. “It would be a great album concept.”

“Maybe,” Min hums. “You should start writing those down for when we can produce albums.”

“You say that like I don’t already have a notebook filled with song lyrics,” Ryan hmphs, crossing his arms. “Please, Min! It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Min snorts. “But are they any good?”

“Maaaaaaaaybe,” Ryan sing-songs, turning to face Min with a mischievous grin. “You’ll just have to read them.”

Min beams. “As soon as you’ll show them to me.”

Ryan laughs in triumph and jumps up, running up and down the hill. His loose jacket flutters behind him in the wind like a cinematic cape. From his place on the ground, Min watches him fondly, smiling.

After they’re all tuckered out, Min and Ryan retreat to the top of the hill. The afternoon is slipping away, and the first hints of sunset’s gold are starting to bleed into the sky. The clouds they so excitedly played with, once a puffy white, darken into greys and oranges and pinks.

Ryan and Min sit shoulder to shoulder, their knees pulled up to their chests, to watch the sunset. The sun glows a brilliant golden, illuminating the sky in peals of pink and orange.

It’s beautiful, that much is undeniable. Min has always loved the soft, gradual fade of day into night and night into day.

He likes them all the more for how many sunsets he’s watched with Ryan. Ryan has always loved watching the explosion of vibrant colors across the sky. He and Ryan have watched countless sunsets together, at the end of their playdates and joint family outings. They always make an effort to find each other as the sun goes down.

Without realizing it, Min breaks his gaze from the sunset to Ryan’s face. His soft skin is illuminated with the fiery glow of the sun, fading yet incandescent. Ryan’s lips are slightly parted in an expression of wonder Min is all too familiar with, and his eyes are similarly wide and shining. It never goes away when watching the sunset, even after every one of their ten years.

Ryan is beautiful, Min realizes. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, but here, enraptured by the beauty of nature and in the company of his closest friend, he’s open in a way he rarely lets himself be. Min could bask in their companionship forever, and let the coveted sunset slip by.

Ryan suddenly glances back at Min. The moment is broken, except it still feels just as comfortable and awe-inspiring as it did before Ryan noticed him. Ryan offers him a small smile, and Min returns it in kind.

After a moment, they both return to watching the sunset, but they lean closer. Their shoulders brush.

“We need to go home soon,” Min says softly, not taking his eyes off of the setting sun. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

Ryan hums discontentedly and drops his head onto Min’s shoulder. Min’s face heats up, although he’s not sure why.

“Awwwww, Miiiiiiiin,” Ryan groans, half-jokingly. “Can’t we stay out here a little longer?”

Min hesitates for a moment, then sighs, standing up and brushing bits of grass and dirt off of his pants. “No, sorry. As cool as that would be… you know how my parents get.”

“Yeah, I do.” Ryan shakes his head, half to himself, then forces a laugh. “I love going to dinner at your house, Min. Your parents are so nice!” Min shakes his head, laughing. “Yeah, well, your family is always so fun and energetic. It’s rad!”

“Haha, yeah.” Ryan turns away. “I’m sure my parents will be happy to have you over for dinner.”

Min turns and offers a hand to Ryan, who gratefully takes it and lets Min pull him to his feet with a grunt. “Same with mine. It’s so nice that our families are such good friends.”

Ryan smiles. “Yeah! It’s like we were made to be best friends! Just like we were made to be musicians together!”

Min’s responding smile is soft and affectionate. “I’m sure we would have found each other eventually.”

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t have known each other now ,” Ryan rebukes. His serious expression softens into something fond. “I like spending time with you now.”

Min grins back. “Me too.” He offers Ryan his hand, and his friend gleefully takes it without a second thought. Their hands are grubby and dirty from playing in the grass all afternoon, but neither seem to mind.

The walk back to their houses (well, Ryan’s house, since it’s closer) is spent mostly in comfortable silence. Min and Ryan are chattiest in each other’s company (which is saying something, since Ryan’s fairly talkative on his quietest days) but occasionally they lapse into a silent rhythm, fully enjoying each other’s presence.

At the edge of Ryan’s house, Ryan gives Min a quick, tight hug, too fast for Min to really process it before it’s over. Ryan peels away and sprints down his driveway, turning to wave enthusiastically to Min and nearly tripping over a potted plant in his haste.

Min giggles and waves back. For some reason, after the door shuts and Ryan’s disappeared from view, he lingers at the foot of Ryan’s driveway. His hands rest in his pockets, with his weight balanced on the balls of his feet as if about to turn away. Inexplicably, he can’t quite manage to leave just yet. He remains as if in a trace, staring after his friend.

A car drives by, and Min jolts. Glancing at the sun dipping precariously below the horizon, he spins on his heel and begins the walk back towards home.

Ryan does everything big, with presence and style. He’s always flashy and energetic. Min knows well how much Ryan would love to spend their after-school afternoons parading around the neighborhood, serenading anyone who would care to listen. And they do, sometimes, when Ryan can rope Min along. But it’s always been the quiet afternoons, the ones that are just him and Ryan, that Min enjoys the most.

As Min makes his way down the street, smiling softly to himself, Ryan watches him from his window. The sibling Ryan shares his room with is still kicking a ball around outside, thankfully, and isn’t present to tease Ryan for tracking his friend down the street.

Ryan likes the exciting afternoons, sure, loves spending his entire day in a whirlwind of activity. But as long as his time is spent with Min, he’s content.

All they both want to do is enjoy these seemingly endless sunny afternoons in each other’s company.

Min is too realistic and Ryan too ambitious to claim these days will last forever. Yet during this stretch of childhood, sometimes it seems like they’ll go on like this every single day, playing on the hill behind the school.

Neither of them find an issue with it.

woooo happy rymin week! my lovely friend sae is the mastermind behind this whole project, so i've been watching from the sidelines and helping for a couple months now. it's so exciting to see this event come to fruition! to everyone who's participated so far or plans on participating, thank you so much for your contribution!!

i was intending to have every day done before the week began, but as always, that didn't seem to happen lol. i'm not sure if i'll get all of them done in time, but i have a lot of exciting wips and ideas i'd really love to post! i'm interested to see what you all think!

this is just some cute little fluff. i love ryan and min as kids they're just so sweet.

because ryan and min are so musically inclined, i'll be titling each chapter with a song lyric or title from a song i feel fits the theme or vibe (i know, very predictable of me and my many song lyric-titled fics skfhfksdf). today's song is from sunny afternoon from red velvet! the whole russian roulette album really encapsulates rymin fluff in an established relationship i think

i'm pretty new to writing infinity train so i don't think i have the best handle on the characters' voices yet. if you have any tips please tell me! i'm sure i'll improve while writing all the fics for this week. i'm excited!

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or twitter! haha. thank you for reading, and please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

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tiennewrites · 4 years

Text

only bought this dress so you could take it off (Part 1a) | hq! headcanons

╔═════ ∘◦ ☟ ◦∘ ══════╗

Summary: The boys get dresses as gifts for their s/o (reader) and their subsequent reactions when their s/o wears it (◍•ᴗ•◍)

Genre: fluff

Characters: Azumane Asahi, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsuma

Pairings: AsahixReader, KiyoomixReader, AtsumaxReader

Warnings: None, this is just pure fluff (⁄˘⁄ ⁄ ω⁄ ⁄ ˘⁄)♡

Author’s Note: Wrote these as a way to take a break from an original piece I’m working on for my exophilia blog and like all my work, things just spiraled out of control ¯\_(ಥ‿ಥ)_/¯ I’ll likely add more boys and NSFW sequels if this gets a good response because this was a fun exercise. Hope you enjoy!

╚═════ ∘◦ ☝︎ ◦∘ ══════╝

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Asahi would have been mortified if you or any of his friends knew, but he found the dress while he was scrolling through Pinterest.

He happened to be looking through summer fashion trends when a picture of a long, yellow sundress scrolled it’s way up his computer screen.

When he clicked through the pin to the brand’s website, he enlarged the image on the model to admire some of the smaller details: delicate spaghetti straps, white heart-shaped buttons down the middle of the long skirt, and his favorite part they way the top could be tied into a bunny-eared knot

Needless to say, he saved that pin so that he could find it later.

That night, you found him rifling through your side of the closet to figure out what size you wore.

How could somebody be two different dress sizes?!

When you tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped so high you thought he was gonna go right through the ceiling.

His face was beet red and he told you he was looking for a shirt that he had lost.

Your poor boyfriend agonized for a week about which size he should get you- he didn’t want the surprise gift to be ruined just because he got a size that was too big or too small.

In the end, he decided to buy it in the larger size. He figured he’d pay for it to be tailored if it was too big and he just wanted to see you in the damn thing already.

When it finally arrived, he laid out the dress on your bed with a bouquet of sunflowers

Asahi tried to stay casual and cool on the couch while he waited to for you to walk into the bedroom to find your surprise, but his stomach clenched in anticipation while he played with the stray threads of a throw pillow.

He smiled excitedly when he heard you squeal in delight, and turned around to see you already running towards him to throw your arms around his neck and pepper his face with kisses.

To his relief, when you tried on the dress, it fit perfectly.

He liked the way the yellow color made your skin absolutely glow and he loved the way the bunny-ear knot complemented the swell of your chest.

The gift prompted an impromptu trip to the beach. You just wanted a good reason to wear out the amazing gift your amazing boyfriend got you.

Even though the day was sunny, the wind whipped around the two of you as you took turns chasing each other barefoot on the beach.

Asahi didn’t mind though. He liked the way your hair looked, wind blown, and the way the dress wrapped itself around your beautiful legs in the gusty breeze.

As the sun went down and the day got colder, he wrapped you up in his denim jacket to pull you close into his giant chest. The two of you fell into a sandy heap smiling and giggling at each other.

»»——⍟——««

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The dress was displayed in the window of a hole-in-the-wall boutique and it didn’t really catch Kiyoomi’s attention at first.

One day on his way home, he got a good look at it and admired it’s clean and simple silhouette. The fabric was white and well-pressed while still looking soft and light.

There are details, like the puffy sleeves and structured bodice, that aren’t usually to his taste, but there was just something so lovely and… pristine about how the garment was designed.

He decided that the tone of white would look lovely against your skin and bought one in your size.

Kiyoomi asks for it to be gift wrapped and rushes to hide it under the bed before you come home.

When he finally gives it to you to unwrap, he’s pleased by how your eyes light up when you lift it out of the tissue paper and see it for the first time. He thinks it’s absolutely adorable when you hold it up against your body and twirl in front of the mirror, laughing.

You wear it for the first time on a date and he’s pleased to find it fits almost perfectly. The bodice hugs the curve of your waist just right and the skirt dances against your mid thigh in the most delightful way.

If he thought the dress looked amazing on you by itself, he absolutely loves the way you dress it up. You tied a soft beige scarf in your hair and wore your favorite nude heels- the strappy kind that took some practice for you to walk in properly.

Kiyoomi already thought you were cute, but today you were just lovely. So lovely he almost reconsidered letting you leave the house.

Almost.

This date had been planned for weeks and he knew you would be upset if you didn’t get to show off your new dress.

The two of you walked down the street arm in arm, and while you enjoyed looking at all the neat items in the shop windows, Kiyoomi sent hard stares to all the wandering eyes that followed you.

At one point, you passed by a pet shop and you bent over to coo at the floppy-eared bunnies playing in the window and to his dismay, the dress tightened at your hips, causing the fabric to sinfully hug the curve of your ass.

He planted himself right behind you to hide what was *his and his alone* you from perverts.

After dinner, you guys took a walk in an empty garden park to enjoy the sunset and take pictures.

You posed for some but Kiyoomi loved taking candids of you looking like an outright angel the way your hair glowed like a halo against the sun.

He swallowed hard when he caught of a glimpse of how the warm light filtered through the fabric of your skirt and he could make out shadows of the soft lines of your inner thighs. You were distracted by something in the distance, completely unaware of how enticing you looked in the fading light.

He quickly snapped a picture on his phone and shoved it in his pocket before you could demand to see how it looked.

Later that night he set that picture of you as his phone wallpaper.

»»——⍟——««

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Atsumu honestly doesn’t even remember buying you a dress.

But apparently last Valentine’s Day you wouldn’t stop bothering him about getting you a gift so he sent you a picture of his credit card with a text that said “go crazy 😘”

So here he is, getting hungry, waiting for you at the bar of the high-end restaurant you both love.

Atsumu is nursing a drink and shoots you a quick text, asking you where you are and that he’s hangry now

Much to his exasperation, you text back that you’ll be there in another 10 minutes and that “It’ll be worth the wait 😜”.

Fifteen minutes later, he nearly spills his drink all over himself when he spots you waltzing in with a smile, wearing a little red satin number.

Even though you’re in heels, you still have to tippy-toe to press a kiss to your stunned boyfriend’s cheek.

Once the initial shock wears off, he smiles and grabs your hand to spin you so he could enjoy every little detail. To say that the dress accentuated the curve of your figure was a dire understatement.

The sweetheart cowl neckline cradled your tits gorgeously and the open back made Atsumu’s mouth water.

And your ass. The ass that launched a thousand boners. If Atsumu didn’t believe in a higher power before, he certainly believed in it now.

With the matching shoes and purse, you looked like walking wet dream.

He was suddenly very okay with having to make three huge credit card payments.

As delicious as dinner was, Atsumu couldn’t help but be distracted by how the candle-light made your dress shimmer against your body, creating highlights and shadows that danced and teased him with every flicker of the flame.

You didn’t notice that one of the spaghetti straps slipped off your shoulder in the middle of some story you were telling, but he certainly did.

Atsumu let his eyes linger for a moment on the bare curve of your shoulder before reaching across the table to ghost his hand up your arm and place the strap back in its place. Before pulling back he let his knuckle idle at the crook of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Atsumu loved that you wore this gorgeous number just for him, but if he were being truthful he couldn’t wait to see it on the floor his bedroom.

»»——⍟——««

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Like, comment, and reblog!　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

If you feel so inclined, buy me a ko-fi (ko-fi.com/tienne). Love in any form is deeply appreciated!

Thank you for your support!（˶′◡‵˶）

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!#haikyu #haikyu!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #asahi x reader #sakusa x reader #atsumu x reader #mywriting

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pocketramblr · 3 years

Note

im going to be so fucking predictable right now but, for a prompt... how about some momnight

I'm going to do my Very Best at this though I am very unpracticed with writing her so here we go!

---

"Alright, class. Today we're supposed to do a lesson that follows up on the interviews you did yesterday with Midnight and Mt. Lady. Which means I'm not teaching."

With that, Aizawa-sensei flopped to the ground. The thud was only slightly cushioned by the sleeping bag around him. A few students winced.

"Exactly!" Midnight said, shoving open the door. "This time, we'll be practicing a little more with cameras and a little less with talking."

Oh? The students all leaned in, curious and excited.

"We'll be practicing photo shoots! Come to studio 1-4, come on." She stepped to the side as the class got excited, and just waved Aoyama out the door when he jumped to go ask her a million questions, sparkling.

Toru was excited too, though she took more time to stand than the others. By the time she had, Yaomomo had already dragged the reluctant Jiro out of the room, and all that remained were Bakugo and Koda.

"Not going to be the last one there, I hope, Bakugo?" Midnight asked, tone of voice edging into a tease.

Bakugo grumbled about it being stupid, but he did hurry more out the door.

"And you, Koda? Nothing to be scared about, the camera doesn't bite." But their teachers sure might, if they dawdled- or interrupted anymore of Aizawa's extended naptime.

"Right!" Toru agreed, skipping to the back of the room to reach for the boy's arm. "Come on, it'll be a fun lesson! Better than a pop quiz, and maybe you'll even get to do a cute picture, like holding a bunny!"

Koda stared at her sleeve for a long moment, then finally nodded.

When they passed Midnight at the door, Toru looked up and realized the woman's smile had slipped a little; she looked thoughtful, brow furrowed behind her glasses.

The smile came back quickly though, as she tugged the door closed behind them and hurried them to the studio where the class was waiting for them.

Haya-senpai was also waiting for them, apparently. The cool girl stood in front of a group of third years by the side wall of the room, where several desks and mirrors and lights had been shoved in a row. The rest of the room was cleared out, backdrops and green screens angled around with a few stools and props.

"Alright, class 1a, before we get ready for your first shoot, there are some things to know." Midnight closed the door behind her. "You can take notes on your phone, if you want. There are several different kinds of photoshoots. What ones can you think of?"

"Ooh!" Mina waved her hand and was called on. "There's magazine photoshoots, and if you're lucky you'll be on the front page!"

"Certainly, magazine shoots. What else- Yaoyorozu?"

"Advertisements, with products?"

"Very good, you've done some of that already, haven't you? Alright, what other kinds?"

Toru waved her arm, humming so she'd be more noticed. Midnight crooked her finger at her. "Makeup? Well I guess that could be a product too, but there's also fashion shoots."

"Right on, Hagakure."

The class was quiet for a few moments, and Midnight nodded. "There's other kinds too- a headshot shoot, some hero agencies will require them for an application or their site. Portraits, lifestyle, sports, glamor, portfolio- the point is, there’s different types, and different points to each of them.”

Tsuyu raised a hand, and got a nod. “Midnight, all the different types, but don’t they boil down to either work use- like the headshots- or publicity for everything else?”

“That’s not a bad way of looking at it, Asui,” The teacher tapper her cheek as she paused, “But there’s more than that. You could also be doing it for benefit of others, either like a charity calendar photos, or perhaps even as a favor for a friend if one of them asks for a photo op.”

“And if,” Bakugo spoke up, apparently at the end of his patience for waiting for an explanation, “we don’t care about that crap? Publicity? If we haven’t got any friends who just want to take pictures of us?”

Midnight’s smile stretched, just a little, like a smirk. “Not a bad question. Anyone else think they have an answer?”

No one spoke, looking at each other, then Iida raised his hand.

“Midnight-sensei! Regardless of wanting to do publicity or charity or not, an agency may require to and all parts of a hero career should be done as exactly as one can, whether or not you want to-”

Midnight coughed. “Not bad, Iida, but not what I was thinking of. Bakugo, everyone, consider it like this. Once you become a hero- before that, even- you are going to have publicity. You are going to have paparazzi. Your photos are going to end up in ragmags no matter what you do.” She emphasized those words with a tap from her whip to her palm. “But, you can decide how you present yourself in other media. Sure, you can go way underground like Eraser. Or, you can take control of your representation. Choose your own photographers, magazines, products, vlogs, anything. That’s why you have to learn how to do these photoshoots and other media courses.” She clapped her hands, and the third years jumped. “So, we start with makeup.”

The older students waved some of her classmates forward, and Toru pushed Koda forward so he’d sit.

She found herself watching them get makeup put on, holding Iida’s glasses for him while Haya mused with his hair. Next to him, a senior was marking lines under Uraraka’s eyes to make the lashes pop.

“That looks really cute!”

“Thanks!”

“Do you mind me using a bit more foundation here?” Another senior said, poking at Midoriya. “It’s not quite even, but some of your freckles are showing through still.”

“Uhh,” Midori said, eloquently.

The older student raised his eyebrow.

“Um, actually, its,”

“It’s what, Midoriya?” Midnight asked, stepping from out of nowhere to peer over his shoulder at his mirror.

“It’s fine!” The makeup didn’t completely hide how red his face went.

Their teacher met his gaze in the reflection, clicking her tongue. “Come on, what did I say the point of the lesson was?”

“Um, control?” Midoriya asked, then went “Oh.”

Midnight smiled, straightening back up.

“I’d like my freckles to be- to not be covered up. Please.” Midoriya was still red, but the senior just shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll darken them with this then instead, so they actually show well under the lights and all that.”

He nodded, relaxing back in his seat, and Midnight squeezed his shoulder before moving on, nodding at Iida before looking at her.

“Hagakure, you haven’t gotten someone to start makeup yet?”

Toru shook her head- and shoulders. “No, Sensei. It’s not like I’ll show up on camera anyway, so.” She kept her voice cheerful, but her smile faltered halfway through.

It was fun to watch everyone else get dolled up and decorated... but would probably be fun if she could join them too.

Midnight stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression before the teacher shook her head. “No, no. You’ll still have to participate and I have an idea!” She took Toru’s hand, then led her to the seat next to Uraraka.

Toru couldn’t keep the startled giggle from bubbling up as she sat.

“Midoriya,” Midnight said, riffling through the makeup on the desk, “You heard Hagakure. What do you think she could do in a photoshoot like this?”

“Hm.” Midoriya considered it, but when he answered he sounded much more confident than he had earlier. “Well, she’s invisible, but anything on her wouldn’t be. You could play with elements like dust or sparkles to suggest shape in an interesting way- oh, if you don’t mind being in your hero suit, that is.”

Midnight hummed an affirmation. “There’s a lot you and your team could do with that, and body paint is a fun medium to work with.” She paused, then leveled an eyeshadow brush at Toru like it was her whip. “Only when you’re eighteen, though. What do you think, Uraraka?”

“You could use your quirk, you know, to shine?” The brunette waved a hand. “Lighting up in different places to outline you, maybe, it’d look really cool if you had a space-y dress or something with it.”

“Oooh,” Toru had to admit that would be fun. It’d need a dark background and probably a camera without a flash or something, but it would be a picture of her, using her own quirk.

“Or like, even a space suit or something alien!”

“As long as I don’t upstage Mina!”

Midnight decided on something, then turned back with a nod, eyes sparkling. “Those are good ideas. Now, I’m going to try something with eyeshadow on you. Tell me when your eyes are closed.”

Toru closed her eyes as asked. “They are now, Midnight.”

If the point of this lesson was control, she wasn’t quite sure that this counted since she was just letting someone else do it, but Toru didn’t mind. She had a couple new ideas bouncing around for real photoshoots, in the future, and she really wanted to see what her teacher came up with.

She’d been right, this was fun.

It tickled a little, when Midnight traced eyeliner all on the sides of her face, but Toru managed to keep her face still enough. Then came brushes and colors she couldn’t see, shapes she could feel but not recognize.

Finally, the touches to her face stopped and she heard the brush clatter on the table.

“You can open your eyes now.” Midnight said, moving out of the way between the chair and the mirror.

Toru gasped, then stood so she could lean closer to her reflection.

Her teacher had painted elaborate designs over both her eyes, branching out like butterfly wings. They shimmered with many neutral tones, light and brown and pink between the black lines. A few sparkles were touched heavier on the ends, and overall they looked beautiful.

“Oh! Guys, look!” Toru turned, and Uraraka gasped too, clapping.

“Those look so pretty!”

“Right? Thank you so much, Midnight-sensei!”

The hero laughed, waving a hand. “You’re very welcome. You’ll have to work with the photographer to decide how to model it on your own though. Speaking of...” She checked the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes left! Get to pictures then washing off.”

She walked off down the row again, checking on the other students, though not before she squeezed Toru’s shoulder for a second when she passed.

Toru was beaming as she asked for a senior with a camera to work with her, and she ended up with a picture of herself winking- one eye open to show the full butterfly, the other closed to show the colors swirled on the eyelid too.

It looked pretty, and it looked fun. It felt like a perfect picture.

#*offers this* sorry it took a while #it was pretty fun to write tho!#pocket talks to people #owlf45 #my writing

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crybabyjam · 3 years

Text

nobody like you

for valentines day

ship: bakudeku

rating: t

summary: Izuku takes Katsuki on a date to a parfait shop.

content warning for (light??) heavy petting/making out. age difference.

available on ao3

---

Katsuki grunts on impact as Deku barrels into him excitedly, like a giant puppydog that doesn't know its own strength.

He was underneath the awning of Aldera Junior High, one of the last students there besides the sports kids and the class reps who had to do whatever bullshit it is that they do.

Still, they were all inside the building. So it's quiet enough that, when Deku takes a moment to nuzzle his face against the spiky softness of Katsuki's hair, Katsuki can hear Izuku's heartbeat.

Strong and steady, a deep 'thump, thump, thump' that makes Katsuki's own pick up in speed.

He hears it more clearly in his wrist when Deku lifts his hands to lay them gently across the back of his neck and trace his thumb along the jaw, until Katsuki's nose flares and he can feel his cheeks flush.

Fucking romantic. It made Katsuki want to swallow his entire mouth so that he can chew his own heart out.

(read more)

"Kacchan, are you ready?" Deku asks, peering down at Katsuki from his bullshit height of 6'4''. Second growth spurt at the end of his first year of high school. Asshole.

Katsuki'll catch up or die trying.

"Yeah," Katsuki grunts, ducking his head down to dodge the kiss that Deku tries to stick on his cheek.

Deku, undeterred, lets it land instead on Katsuki's hairline. The thinner, more bristly hairs near his sideburns tickle Deku's lips, and Katsuki is left with a vibrating laugh ringing in his ears when Izuku pulls away.

"Let me hold your bag?" Deku asks as he reaches out to grab it anyway.

It's just a briefcase, smaller than Deku's yellow monstrosity by a large margin. But he's learned that Deku will get annoying if he doesn't let him do some 'boyfriend' things, so Katsuki lets him grab the briefcase and hook it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, pack-mule. Where are we going?"

Deku hooks his arm over Katsuki's shoulder and begins to gently lead him along down the sidewalk. With that same hand, he pats along Katsuki's chest until he snags his phone with a grin and unlocks it.

For as many times as Katsuki has threatened to change it to lock him out, he never has. But Katsuki almost regrets giving him the code, just because of that giddy look.

"It's not far," Deku is saying, gesturing with one finger towards the left as his thumb runs across the map on Katsuki's phone. "It'll be nice and quiet like you like. They even have booths."

"Took one of your other boyfriends there?" Katsuki huffs.

Deku looks at him, bemused. "You're the one who made me choose something private! I would have been happy announcing how much I love my Kacchan to the entire world."

"'Cause you're a fuckin' embarrassment."

And, as if that was a compliment, Deku perks up and says, "Oh, right!"

Deku tucks the phone back in Katsuki's pocket and sneaks his fingers, instead, to his backpack. It takes a bit of struggling because he refuses to let go of Katsuki's shoulder while he does it.

Katsuki ends up in a bit of a chokehold, and he elbows Deku in the gut. It feels solid, a literal wall of dense muscle. Katsuki digs his pointy elbow in meanly, until Deku curves his tummy away with a grunt and a laugh.

"Here!"

A gaudy red object is shoved in his face, distracting him from his attack.

Katsuki snatches it away from Deku's scarred fingers and squints at the thing.

A teddy bear. Red, fuzzy, and tiny. In its arms is a stuffed heart, and on its back is a box of chocolates (heart-shaped, of course) that overshadows the thing by about 300%.

"I would have gotten orange, but you don't like orange-flavored candies, right? This is a variety pack instead. Although, I know you don't really love chocolate— so it might be kind of a waste. But it's a holiday! And Kacchan deserves a nice Valentine's box, after all—"

"Looks like roadkill." Katsuki thumbs across the sewed nose of the thing, and the button eyes that feel like marbles. The fur is soft, and doesn't shed even when Katsuki scratches at the scalp of the thing.

And the box itself isn't bad. Covered in transparent, plastic-like paper and, beneath that, the box itself is outlined in white lace. Kind of dainty for a guy like Katsuki, but he couldn't say he didn't like it.

Deku always did have a different idea about him than everyone else, anyway.

Deku's shoulders drop, relaxed. More of his weight leans on Katsuki, and he throws his head back with his belly laugh.

"Does that mean you like it?"

Katsuki tucks the bloody-colored bear under his arm, careful not to ruin the packaging of the chocolates too much. It jostles noisily, and Deku looks half a second from stealing it back from him just to carry it again.

So Katsuki nods. "It's… good."

As if he'd just gotten powered by the sun itself, Deku's smile brightens by megawatts. He gets these ridiculous dimples when he smiles like that, deep and perfectly pokable.

Katsuki resists, and instead turns to face the sidewalk as if he was the one leading the way.

Deku sneaks a kiss to Katsuki's cheek, close to the edge of his mouth. It was purposeful, too, because Deku tugs his arm away and runs a few steps ahead to walk backwards as he leads the way.

Katsuki stuffs his hands in his pockets and glares at the ground even as he fights the grin off of his face like he's fighting a dragon with a shield made of paper lace.

The grin wins.

---

They make it to the little venue Deku had chosen for them.

And, of all places, it's a parfait shop. It's darkened glass windows to keep the inside cool on hot days, and small; cornered and squished by taller buildings on either side. Across the small street is a busier shop that's stuffed full with a line out the door— a bakery.

Katsuki squints at Deku, and Deku gives him a coy look in return.

"C'mon."

He leads them up the two short steps and Katsuki holds the door open for Deku's wide ass backpack.

The inside is even smaller than it looks. Overfilled with pillows and stuffed animals and floral banners announcing the Valentine's holiday, it was like Katsuki had been dropped into a love commercial.

But it's quiet, and there's only two workers and one other customer in the entire shop. Deku leads them towards a booth to set down their things, and the cushioned seats creak when Katsuki flops into it.

It's too big of a booth for just the two of them. Curved in a corner, faced in a way that they're hidden unless someone walked right in front of the table.

It smells like a park in spring over in their corner. Mixed with something sweet in the air, it's like he's floating on cinnamon-sugar clouds.

"Can I order for you?" Deku hums, chewing on an open straw even though there's no drink in front of him. "There's a cake I think you would like."

"Mm." Katsuki cursorily sweeps his gaze across the menu, though there aren't many pictures to bely what the snacks would actually taste like. Just flowery descriptions that use the word 'decadent' way too much, in his opinion.

"I'll also get us a parfait. To share?"

Deku's eyes are hopeful. Way too fucking green and bright for his own good. His gaze is impossibly soft, and Katsuki feels like he just got wrapped in silk and laid in satin.

He scratches at his skin to keep himself from looking too excitable. But he does nod. "We can share."

Deku waves down a waiter.

Katsuki watches how his school uniform shifts with him when he raises his hand up, how it strains at the shoulders. He'd really filled out over the years, and it seems his clothes couldn't really keep up.

Deku catches him looking and winks, face turning pink like a freshly blossomed flower.

The waiter arrives, interrupting Katsuki before he gets started.

Katsuki tugs off the jacket to his own uniform as Deku lists off a few items to the worker.

It's cool inside, as expected, but Katsuki always ran hot anyway. So that it doesn't drop on the floor and get dirty, he stuffs it behind Deku's bag, which is between them in the booth like a boulder stopping the flow of a river. He's careful not to squish his chocolate box, moving the bear to the empty spot of the booth opposite of Deku, on top of the table.

Katsuki leans across it, ignoring the poke of utensils and notebooks, and blinks his eyes slowly as Deku laughs at something the worker says. It's a muted sound, polite so that he doesn't disturb the literally only other patron in the establishment.

His lips look soft when they part in a smile like that. Smooth and dusky and plush.

Katsuki hides his own against the sleeves of his button up, suckling the lower one between his teeth to mimic the way Deku likes to nibble on it when he's in a tease-y mood.

"Kacchan?"

Deku blinks at him, just noticing the shift in positions. The worker bows their head quickly as they leave, still smiling, but Deku's focus has entirely shifted to Katsuki. As it always has and always will.

Deku scooches closer, so that he eclipses the other side of the bag. Katsuki gets shadowed along with it, and he has to pluck his head up to continue looking Deku in the eye.

A hand hovers close to his brow, and he eyes it carefully before he nods and lets it comb through his hair. Deku focuses on the tangles, first, and then lets his fingertips focus on the temple worriedly.

They're cold, colder than the restaurant. Bad circulation from turning his bones and his veins and his nerves to dust too many times.

"Tired?"

"Sick of your bullshit," Katsuki says, with no venom whatsoever. Deku can tell, because his eyes just (somehow) soften even further.

As if Katsuki is actually asleep and he's afraid to wake him, Deku lays the lightest kiss on his skin. Across his temple, warm to replace the cold.

"Sorry, Kacchan," Deku says, teasingly. "I think you'll always be sick of me."

Impossible, but Deku didn't need to know that. Let him figure it out on his own, when he needs to.

"But it's okay because I'll always be there to get on your nerves even more, Kacchan."

Katsuki snorts. It's a jarring sound, rising above the lilting music playing in the background. Inside, his heart is hammering at the declaration. What a fucking dumbass.

Only Deku could make a stupid sentence like that affect Katsuki so much.

He grabs Deku's wrist and shoves it against his cheek, squeezing it between that and his shoulder so that it gets trapped there.

"Yeah, well. You're fuckin' stuck with me, too. Forever, asshole."

The words are growled, said too fast and awkwardly. Like Katsuki had dropped them in a pile at Deku's feet and hastily picked them up to show them off.

Deku accepts them graciously. As if the words were dipped in gold and sprinkled with diamonds.

His face goes from pink to red, and Katsuki is reminded of the awkward kid that used to walk him to and from elementary when Deku was just beginning junior high.

He'd been lanky then, like Katsuki is lanky now. All bones and jumpy like a skittish rabbit perpetually in the middle of a street.

He'd always had a red face back then, too. Maybe from crying, or from laughing too hard when Katsuki would steal his homework to try to do it instead, maybe three years before he'd learned the material.

"I'm glad, Kacchan," Deku says, eventually. His fingers curve against Katsuki's skin, warming up pleasantly. Katsuki's own are sweltering. If they got any hotter, they'd ignite and explode like fireworks.

Katsuki swipes his palm across his pants to clean them. Squeezes the loose material between his fist just to steel himself.

Deku glances down at the motion, and brings his other hand up to press it against Katsuki's face. To comfort him, maybe.

Katsuki interrupts by shoving his own against Deku's face first. It's awkward, and he does it too fast because there's a soft 'plap' sound when his clammy palm connects with Deku's cheek.

Still, it fits there comfortably. Deku's chubby cheeks curve into the space of his palm like he's about to roll a ball of mochi.

Dumbass was built like a brickhouse and still had the babiest face.

Katsuki relaxes when Deku doesn't shove him away. Not that Deku ever would, not when Katsuki's heart was about to shove it's way up his throat and make good on that chewing promise from earlier.

Deku's hand, which had been hastily shoved out of the way so Katsuki could grab him first, comes to instead rest atop Katsuki's own.

He presses it firmly against Katsuki's, fitting his fingers between Katsuki's smaller ones and curving towards the middle so he can tickle at Katsuki's heart line with the tips.

"You make me so happy," Izuku mumbles, against Katsuki's palm.

As if he'd been released from chains tying him down, Katsuki knees the schoolbag fully out of the way, shifting up onto it so that he can atleast match Izuku in height.

"Deku," Kacchan says between his teeth, just before Izuku pulls him forward to kiss him silly.

Izuku always likes to build up to kissing. Likes to leave his touch across Kacchan's skin so that it can tingle and thrum with the feeling it leaves behind. He likes leaving a trail of kisses up his neck, across his chin, and just a bare brush of lips across lips. And he likes how Kacchan looks when he does it, eyes half-lidded and dark, mouth dropped open with the barest hint of a smile, cheeks flushed.

But, right now, he can't help going straight for it. Kacchan doesn't mind either way (or, atleast, says he hates when Izuku teases him, wants him to just get on with it), so he's already there with an open mouth and a moan.

Izuku is quick to shush him, feeling along Kacchan's shoulders and noting how the muscles beneath his button-up tense and subsequently relax. Izuku curves the touch lower, fitting his arms beneath Kacchan's so that he can rest them, crossed at the wrist, against the small of Kacchan's back.

They fit there nicely, especially when Kacchan climbs into Izuku's lap to take up all the space between his belly and the table.

Izuku tugs him closer by that hold, sinking down low so that Kacchan, for once, has to dip his head down to kiss him back.

Their lips move across one another, connecting them together more solidly than a red thread of fate could in that moment. Kacchan is concentrating hard on the moment, Izuku can tell because he begins to minutely rock back and forth the motions of his breath. He always kissed Izuku like he had something to prove, but Izuku was just happy to hold him. To love him.

Still, Kacchan kisses him so deeply, like he's trying to transmit every one of his thoughts directly into Izuku's temporal lobe, that Izuku gets lost in the current that is Kacchan's desire.

Static from the seat zaps the back of his neck when he slides in the booth more, gathering it by his hair rubbing against the leather. He pulls his hand away to pat at his nape, but Kacchan tugs it back before it gets very far.

He encourages Izuku to grab a handful of his thigh, lifting up a few inches so that his fingers can curve comfortably around the underside. For himself, Kacchan busies himself with sneaking his fingers beneath Izuku's blazer to try to fit it past his shoulders.

Izuku doesn't realize he's still sliding down the seat until his feet hit the other side of the booth, and he breaks the kiss to laugh when Kacchan flinches at the dull noise.

"Sorry," Izuku whispers, leaning over to glance past the barrier of the booth. "We should probably slow down before we kicked out before you even get to taste—"

"Shut up," Kacchan says, also in a whisper. His soft fingers come back to Izuku's cheeks and press them in so that Izuku's lips pop out.

Izuku laughs again, and it gets muffled when Kacchan kisses the noise away.

Warmth furls around Izuku's chest, like love had grown a physical form and decided to wrap itself around his ribcage as the first thing it did. He can't breathe in too deep, or else he's afraid he'll melt right in Katsuki's hands.

He feels along the cascading dip of Kacchan's spine, all the way up to the shoulderblades. He's been working out recently, eager to join Izuku at U.A. and surpass him before Izuku graduates.

It's been paying off, little by little. He's still tiny, not that he'd ever say so. But it's true, especially when he fits himself in Izuku's arms and lets himself get cradled there as he swallows down his soft, breathy sounds.

Izuku writhes in his seat. He blinks his eyes open to find Kacchan already looking at him with a grin.

"You get like this just 'cause of one little kiss? Virgin."

Izuku doesn't mention that they took each other's virginities.

Kacchan's face is bright red, lips not exactly kiss-swollen but close enough. Still, his smirk is wide enough that the tips of his sharper teeth peek out between his pink lips.

"Kacchan," Izuku huffs. Kacchan settles his weight fully on Izuku's lap, carefully angled away from that spot with a quick pat on the hip from Izuku's hand.

They were already being too forward as it is.

Still, Izuku shifts upwards so that he's sitting correctly in his seat, just so that he can peck Katsuki across the lips properly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kacchan."

There's the gentle clack of hard-soled shoes across the floor as the waiter approaches with their food, and Izuku hurriedly shoos Kacchan back into the booth as he takes off his jacket like Kacchan wanted.

Though, unlike what Katsuki is expecting (which is him hiding his kiss boner with his wadded up uniform), Izuku drops the jacket across Katsuki's shoulders and tucks the sleeves firmly across his lap.

The waiter arrives just as Izuku has smoothed out his own shirt again, swiping his big hands across his curly hair to fluff it out.

Katsuki buries his face against the collar of the jacket. It's warm like he's a tea kettle over a freshly stoked fire. It's a good thing his belly is empty or else— pfft no.

Izuku is once again making nice with the waiter as they explain the order, handing off two long spoons to each of them. Izuku already has his own shoved between his lips before Katsuki even grabs for his.

He lays it on the table, resting his chin in his hand as a large slice of cake is slid in the empty area of the booth opposite of them. In front of the red bear that is laying half on its side, kept upright only by the heavy chocolates weighing it down.

With a snort, Katsuki sidles closer to the school bag to get back on his portion of the booth.

Izuku reaches out to stop him, bowing his head in thanks to the waiter as they head off.

Katsuki, just to tease, dodges the touch and only gets two paces further before Izuku whines and drags him back, leaning his full weight across Katsuki's back to smother him in butterfly kisses.

They focus mostly on his jaw, unable to get at his face with the position, but Izuku takes what he can get and peppers each smooch thoroughly across Katsuki's skin until the latter shrieks like a banshee between his laughter.

"Idiot, you just said you didn't want us to get kicked out!" Katsuki gripes, twisting in Izuku's grip just to grit his teeth right in Izuku's face.

Izuku lets his hold loosen, one arm behind Katsuki's back. Katsuki trails his own across Izuku's and tucks his fingers in the back pocket that's closest to him.

"I can't help it when I'm with you, Kacchan. All I wanna do is kiss you!"

"I hate you," Katsuki says, resolutely. He leans his head against Izuku's shoulder and gestures at the parfait in front of them. "Now let's fuckin' eat this junk already."

It's tall, with mostly pink fruit to keep up with the theme of the holiday. Strawberries and syrupy peaches cover the top of the pink ice cream, color offset by white powdered sugar and dark brown chocolate shavings sprinkled on top. The cup itself is lined in chocolate drizzle, in a wavy pattern that gets a bit smeared when Izuku pokes his spoon into the top.

There's also a little heart shaped cookie on top.

"Look how pretty it is, Kacchan!" Izuku says excitedly. He carefully wipes excess whipped cream off of the rim of the tall glass and laps it off his thumb. Some smudges at the edge of his lip.

Katsuki lets out a fond sigh and gestures him forward.

Izuku comes to him willingly, always happy for whatever it is Katsuki gives to him.

Instead of kissing him again, Katsuki swipes the whipped cream up to instead smear it directly across Izuku's freckled cheek. Only two of his more prominent ones get covered completely, but it dissolves the two of them into a fit of giggles anyway.

"Kacchan!" Izuku wipes off the mess with the back of his sleeve, completely disregarding the perfectly good handkerchief he has tucked in his back pocket. Katsuki can feel it brushing against his fingertips when Izuku shifts forward to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the parfait again.

Katsuki watches him for a moment, and feels his insides shift with a bursting need to tell Izuku right now that he loves him so much that his very soul belongs in Izuku's strong, mangled, soft, gentle hands.

Somehow, the idiot has powdered sugar in his hair.

Katsuki grabs for his briefcase and flicks it open as Izuku takes his first bite, chirring happily like a bird that just learned how to fly.

When he pulls out the small chocolate box, Izuku cuts off abruptly.

"Kacchan?" The name is garbled around the spoon, but the inflection is clear. Hesitant, yearning. Disbelieving. It's just a simple box wrapped in a ribbon, but Izuku wants to treasure it immediately like it's his first autograph from a hero.

"Made this for you," Katsuki says, gruffly. He shoves it across the table, and it slides right into Izuku's hand.

Despite the size, the box is a bit heavy. Izuku weighs it for a moment, eyes already brimming with tears.

Katsuki grimaces, turning away to tug the parfait close to himself instead and swirls up a bite of strawberry flavored ice cream with one of the peaches, shoving it in his mouth instead of explaining further.

"Can I…" Izuku pauses to wet his lips, and they're doing that thing where he's caught between a smile and a grin; between overjoyed and overwhelmed. "Can I open it?"

"Just said I made it for you," Katsuki mumbles, swallowing the ice cream down too fast. It melts in his throat and leaves an empty spot that fills with tense nervousness.

He takes another bite of ice cream to fill it as Izuku carefully unravels the present.

And, on the inside of the simple black box, is a plain chocolate. Homemade, of course, and hard-shelled. It was a bitch to temper, but the shine came out well if Katsuki did say so himself.

The top is outlined with a white chocolate heart, and the message inside of it is a mix of white and dark chocolate— because Izuku didn't actually like the taste of white chocolate. Katsuki taste-tested it a million times to make sure he couldn't taste it more than the rest of the chocolate but…

Katsuki rubs his sweaty palms across his thighs again.

The message simply says, 'To my Number One hero.'

Because Katsuki wasn't… couldn't actually convince himself to do the lovey-dovey shit. The heart shape was pushing it but… he knew Izuku would do something that would make him feel like this, so. He had to.

Katsuki bites his tongue to quiet his own nervous thoughts. Shit, he was hanging around the nerd too much.

Izuku likes it, though. Because he's crying harder, laying the box on the table so that he doesn't crush the edges when it becomes too much for him.

"Kacchan, you're—" Izuku interrupts himself with a sniffle. And then a soft sob.

"Deku, don't fuckin' cry," Katsuki says, only mildly panicking.

He's just begun preparing himself to crawl back in Izuku's lap and kiss the tears away himself when Izuku finally swipes them away with the edge of his already dirtied sleeves.

With a quick nod, he centers himself and looks Katsuki directly in the eye.

"I won't let you down, Kacchan. I'll become the Number One for real, soon."

He was still only in high school, but Katsuki had a feeling that this was a promise Izuku wouldn't break.

Katsuki had a lot of catching up to do, but he didn't really mind. Not right now.

Instead, he gestures with his spoon towards the homemade chocolate.

"Yeah, yeah. Better fuckin' hold onto it while you can before I take my title back."

"Of course, Kacchan." Izuku is grinning, and his face is red like it always gets (after crying, after laughing, after kissing). "I look forward to it."

Katsuki shoves another bite of parfait past his lips, and, when Izuku drops a kiss to his cheek for the umpteenth time that day, he lets a full smile grace his lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Deku."

ao3 link

#bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #boku no hero academia #long post #writing tag #fanfic

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lessinkmoregraphite · 3 years

Text

Artificial AU prologue part 1

I have no patience and want to share stuff I do, so. Have the first segment of my most recent post-Forces au, aka Artificial AU. It’ll probably be on ao3 eventually, maybe with some small edits, but for now have this mess.

The first clear thought Infinite had was surprise that he was able to have a thought. The (nope) experience he'd had before the world went dark should have killed him, he shouldn't be able to think anything.

But here he is. Thinking. Huh.

He tried to pry his eyes open, found them sticky with sleep and heavy with fatigue, and gave up. Instead he ran a physical assessment of his body - overall aches, especially bad at his wrists, ankles, and chest, but none of that was shocking (nono not a pun this time). What was more confusing was the slight resistance when he managed to shift one of his arms - bandages, he guessed, based on the feeling when he bent his wrist. Most of the way up to his elbow, too - not a sh- surprise. The others were probably just as bad.

Consciousness was already slipping through his grasp, but he had just enough time to wonder who would bother to bandage him up before he slipped back into cool darkness.

The next time, he was a little less foggy; enough to be alarmed and try to sit up. Which did not go well, as his chest screamed in protest and he froze halfway up with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Hands pressed to his shoulder and back, gently but efficiently pulling him to lay back down. For the first time, he noticed how soft the pillow was. It probably wasn't really that soft, but somehow it was the most heavenly thing ever in that moment.

He shoved the thought away and forced his eyes open, muzzle wrinkling in distaste at the gummy feel of them. He could just make out a blurry red and yellow blob in front of him, but no features past that.

Dry lips opened, his voice emerging in a creak rather than words. Immediately, a straw was pressed to his lips, and he slurped greedily at the liquid offered to him until it was pulled away. He frowned, but didn't protest, instead croaking out something like a question - the words were slurred, but still words.

"Don't worry," came the response, quiet but much clearer than his own voice. "You're safe. Rest."

And while a part of him immediately balked at the idea of listening to someone telling him what to do, he was helpless to resist the darkness returning to him.

The time after that, he woke up feeling almost lucid. His body still ached, and his thoughts were a little too fuzzy to be considered normal, but he could think enough to pry his eyes open and look around.

It looked like a random bedroom, except too clean. Like it hadn't been used until now. Plain white walls and off-white carpet, a few shelves on one wall, a dresser and desk on another. The bed he was on looked like it had been dragged out from the corner to the middle of the room, so there was space on all sides. It made his fur prickle slightly but there wasn't much he could do about it.

His gaze finally fell to the floor, on the one bright spot in the room - a figure that appeared to be doing a plank. He could make out green boots and red fur, but the rest was covered by a frankly hideous mustard-colored jacket.

He spent a good few minutes just staring, trying to process why anyone would willingly wear that color (especially when it basically made them look like an off color stoplight). His pause to gape lasted long enough that the figure finished the plank and rolled over, brightening and jumping up upon seeing him.

The wolf scurried over to the bedside, pausing a beat too long before speaking. "Do you need anything?"

"To stop looking at that horrible thing masquerading as clothing."

"It's warm," he said, not looking offended in the least. "And big. Are you hungry?"

...Yes. But he wasn't eager to acknowledge that, even if it was pretty obvious that this person had been looking after him already. Especially since at a second glance, he had a vague recollection of where he'd seen him before.

Not that it seemed to matter much, since the wolf had already headed toward a box of something set against the wall, rummaging around inside until he came up with a pouch of squeeze applesauce.

"Here," he said, coming over to set the pouch on the edge of the bed. "Let me know if you need help."

Infinite scowled at him, then reached for the pouch and began fiddling with the screw top. Much to his chagrin, it turned out to be less of an absurd suggestion than he'd first thought; he could barely get the top open even with the ridiculous wings on it lending leverage. He slurped the food up angrily while glaring at nothing in particular.

The wolf stared at him in silence while he ate, expression oddly blank. Infinite finished the pouch quickly and pulled it away to scowl. "What?"

"Want another?"

"...Sure."

They repeated the process, up to and including the weird staring. This time, when Infinite finished, the wolf had a different question. "Should I still call you Infinite?"

He stiffened, suddenly on guard. Some part of him had wondered if this idiot just didn't realize who he was, and that's why he offered some sort of care, but if he knew...

"Call me whatever you want," he finally said. There was a beat of silence before he added, "Why the hell are you helping me?"

The wolf blinked. "Aren't you supposed to help people when they get hurt?"

Infinite's scowl deepened. What kind of answer - whatever. It's not like he was in any shape to refuse freely given help, much as it galled him to admit it.

"I'm Gadget," the wolf said, before Infinite could reply.

"That's a weird name." The response came on autopilot, not really the truth but the first thing that came to mind.

Gadget shrugged. "Probably. I picked it."

"So... it's a nickname?"

"Uh... don't think so?"

Infinite groaned and stared at the ceiling. What the actual hell. "Whatever. When should I expect the resistance to come throw me in a cell?"

There was a long silence. Infinite blinked and glanced over, finding Gadget rubbing at the back of his neck with a guarded look. "...Oi."

"They won't be," Gadget mumbled, his voice suddenly... distant, for lack of a better word. "I'm not with the resistance anymore."

There was another paused as that processed. Infinite scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What, did they kick their star rookie out after defeating the big bad?"

"No. I left before they could."

Yet another pause as Infinite failed to find words. He'd been being sarcastic, because really why should he believe this (apparently former) Resistance member had left their ranks and then just happened to end up taking care of him? It was a little too convenient. But from what little he'd seen, Gadget didn't seem like the sort to fake his emotions - he could see every thought running through the idiot's head in glorious technicolor - yet here he was, apparently on the verge of tears over... something. Something about leaving the Resistance.

Before he could pry more information out of him, Gadget perked up with a seemingly genuine smile. "Not important though. Are you still hungry? Thirsty? It's been a while since you woke up last time."

Infinite shut his questions back, accepting the offer of more food and water instead. He'd get his answers eventually; it's not like he hadn't worked to subtly get information from people before. Whatever Gadget was hiding, he'd find it.

For now, he'd work to regain his strength. The rest could wait just a little longer.

Gadget sat on the dresser, staring out the little window. The idyllic forest scene felt weird, considering that he knew they were still in Eggman's base, but it was certainly a better view than broken machinery.

Today had been the most lucid Infinite had been in the dozen or so times he'd woken so far, but he still hadn't pushed for more information. Not that Gadget was complaining. It was just... strange.

Still, the chance to sort things out a bit more was welcome. He'd barely had a chance to figure out how to respond to everything himself, much less how to bring it up with someone else.

There was a reason he'd run from the Resistance before they could find out. He didn't know how to talk about these things.

Gadget caught himself rubbing at the back of his neck again and pulled his hand away, stuffing both hands in the opposite jacket sleeves. That was becoming a habit. His first Resistance team had warned him about that kind of habit, and he didn't want to deal with breaking one.

He also didn't want to deal with leaving the Resistance at all, but... he doubted they'd react well when they learned what he was. He sure hadn't. It was easier to just... vanish, completely avoiding the consequences.

Finding Infinite had been an accident. He'd come here to find answers (to look at that lab that felt so dreadfully familiar); instead he'd found the jackal passed out in a room that he didn't want to think about too much, burns on his limbs and chest and vitals shaky. He'd jumped to help on instinct; after all, he hadn't been lying about helping people.

Well. Lying by omission, perhaps. He'd heard about that sort of lying. Because yes, he'd saved Infinite because he was once told that helping people was the right thing to do. But he also did it because if anyone could relate to him, could make him feel a little less alone, it might be Infinite.

After all. Even if Gadget was just a prototype, they'd been made for the same purpose.

#gadget the wolf #infinite the jackal #sonic stuff #sonic forces #mine writes #artificial au

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whatsthedistancebetweenus · 3 years

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The Lion's Tooth #6

Jungkook x reader; fluff, humour

The Lions's Tooth

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (more coming soon)

Seoul's sky was as bright as usual. The greens had turned to beautiful shades of warm colors all over Seoul. October was coming to an end in a week.

"The smell of autumn is here!" Jungkook stretched his body before stepping in inside. His hand was holding onto a backpack that was filled with assortments of snack. It was off season for the boys and Jungkook has had enough of diets and decided that he deserves a cheat week. After that, back he goes to the gym and portions of rationed chicken breast and greens.

Sejin picked up the boys from their respective apartments and they were en route to the BigHit HQ inside a semi-bus slash van.

"There's a new exhibition starting next week by this French artist." Namjoon muttered in the van, hand scrolling on his phone. "It's on the museum by the Olympic Garden. Anyone wanna go together?"

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and replied "I've got this plan with my friends next week. We're gonna visit Paju. What about the rest of you?"

"You know there's no way I'm going." Jungkook answered light heartedly while munching on his snack, eyes observing the oranges and reds outside the van.

"Yeah if he goes, it's gonna rain candy." Hoseok laughed and suddenly said in a stern voice, "It'll be so good if it rains Snickers, tho".

"Paju's eel is really nice. You should try it while you're there" Jin replied at Taehyung.

"Oh, Dana and (y/n) is there already at the meeting room" Namjoon said with his eyes still glued at his phone.

"Huh? How do you know?" Jimin asked curiously. Jungkook's ears perked up at the mention of (y/n)'s name and straightened his seating position, keeping his cool.

"Hmm? She texted me." Namjoon stuttered while dusting his completely clean sleeve. "You know, it kinda happened. I got her number somehow.."

Jungkook's heart sank a little. He bite his inner cheek.

"Ohooo Namjoonie. Tell us more tell us more!" Hoseok's face brimmed with joy and he tapped Namjoon's shoulder from his seat behind.

The other members were waiting for Namjoon's story. Their faces were that of hungry hyenas, except for one on the corner who's slowly losing color.

"Well the last time we met them, I kinda asked for her number. Aaand we went for a drink the next day." Namjoon grinned, a little hint of red could be seen on the tip of his ears.

Jungkook poked his inner cheek with his tongue violently on the corner of the van, ears still locked on Namjoon's story.

The members and Sejin cheered on Namjoon and Jungkook was about to change the topic until Yoongi cuts in. "Ya ya ya, we're not in high school, guys, don't tease him. We all know that Namjoon sucks at this kind of thing and has almost non existence dating experience but all he needs now is our serious advice on how to actually date a girl. Moreover, (y/n) seems like a great girls so he—"

"Huh? I'm talking about her cousin though? Dana? I thought you guys knew?" Namjoon abruptly cuts through Yoongi's sentence, dumbfounded "By the way, hey! Ease up on the dissing, okay!"

Jungkook unknowingly sighed a breath of relief as he opened the wrapping to a cola flavored Chupa Chups, a faint hum were heard from him.

"I know" Jin said, reaching into Jungkook's stash of Chupa Chups and taking one for himself.

"Yeah, I mean I saw how you two were practically flirting since our first meeting at the restaurant." Jimin shrugged.

"I didn't! I also thought you were talking about (y/n)?" Tae looked up from his phone and joined the conversation once again.

"(Y/n)'s face is closer to my preference, so I thought you were going after her" Yoongi took out his phone from his pocket and opened something.

"Agreed." Tae agrees with Yoongi. "She's close to my ideal type, you know?"

Hoseok and Yoongi agrees to Tae when suddenly [CRACK].

The 6 boys shifted their heads to the source of sound. Sejin peeked through the van's rear mirror.

"Ah, I accidentally bit my candy a little too hard and it shattered. Hahaha.." Jungkook awkwardly laughed, his mouth is evidently full of tiny chunks of what once were a hard ball-shaped candy on a stick.

"But Chupa Chups is hard to bite when it's still that big tho.." Jimin stared blankly at Jungkook. The others were giving him weird looks before continuing back to their conversation.

Jungkook cleared his throat silently on the corner while he unknowingly goes on a little emotional roller coaster.

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook #bts crack #bts comedy #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts

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thattimdrakeguy · 4 years

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Young Justice #10 review - How not to change a character’s identity.

This is finally the issue were Tim Drake becomes “The Drake” (or maybe just “Drake”), and honestly, it’s just lazy as could be. People were already fearing the issue, and it’s actually kind of worse than expected.

They made every bad choice they could’ve.

It is genuinely horribly done.

Most times when a character changes their identity it means something to that character. It’s a defining moment in their character evolution, and the name actually means something to that character.

Nightwing came from Dick Grayson trying to find himself as he grew up. Gaining the name from a trusted friend who told him a story from his home-world, that helped give Dick Grayson inspiration.

The Red Hood came from Jason Todd literally getting killed by Joker, a person that formerly went by the Red Hood. The name was practically a taunt, but an emotionally charged one that was connected to Jason’s story.

With this name and costume change, it means NOTHING.

They don’t even explain where the suit comes from. He just shows up in it, and unless I missed it, no one even acts like anythings different, or brings up the costume at all.

Previously I just assumed the costume would spawn from a reasoning that had something to do with this Earth. To actually give a reason for it.

Like how a gang was insulting Tim’s colors.

But that gang that randomly attacked Tim in issue 8 went no where. Making the inclusion of them almost pointless besides world building, but in their defense, world building is important.

I have no idea why Tim thought it was important to change his costume, considering Earth 3 Drake pretty much wears a normal Robin costume.

Making the change in costume even more pointless and meaningless.

Costumes are meant to say something about the character in some shape or form. This costume has no introduction, no one brings it up, and it’s quality alone is shoddy. The colors stand for boring, and dull, in a few panels the red in it comes off almost as clashing, and the lack of any character-based details makes it terrible.

In the most objective way to consider the costume, even ignoring how Tim only wanted to be Robin, this costume was horribly made on the standards set by what costumes are supposed to do.

Costumes are suppose to tell you something about the character.

Tim’s last costume showed he was a boyish, tech based, ninja. Due to character details like short sleeves, built in tech, and ninja toes. Those details showed exactly what his character is, but this new one doesn’t come off like that. The new costume says absolutely nothing.

The logic of Tim choosing the new name is also completely horrible. He has no reason to change his name. Bart just started saying he should change his name to “Drake”. Why? I don’t think he actually says.

Why would Tim want to change his name to match someone who wants to kill him and is evil? Logically, he shouldn’t.

Why would Tim want to change his name just because Bart told him to? Logically, he shouldn’t.

Why would Tim want to change his name while on an alternate Earth? Logically, he shouldn’t.

Why would Tim want to change his name at all considering his character? Logically, he shouldn’t.

Tim Drake’s character always said that if he stopped being Robin, he would stop being a hero. That only changed when he got kicked from the role and felt he still had to save Bruce.

So now that he’s Robin again, why would he leave that role? He finally got back to being Robin like how he wanted, which actually felt good, but they never even explained why he was Robin again. In fact they implied he was still Red Robin, despite all the marketing and character’s saying he was Robin. Causing a massive inconsistency with just that.

It’s just plain out of character for him to change his name, and one of the biggest flaws you can ever make when writing a story of any kind is having one of your characters, especially one of the main characters, act out of character.

The name as well, while using the characters’ own logic, is out of character.

Tim Drake was always told to keep his secret identity hidden from EVERYONE. Even Barbara Gordon didn’t know Tim’s name until Batman told her (although that was mostly because Tim thought it was cool Babs knew Superman’s real name but not his).

In 90s Robin there was an issue were Stephanie Brown as the Spoiler comes close to finding out Tim’s identity. If Tim Drake went by the superhero name “Drake” and she cared enough to search harder, it would only make it that much easier to find out what his real name is.

You could say that the name is so dumb that’s why it’s so great, because anyone trying to figure out their identities wouldn’t expect them to be that dumb, but when the Bat-Family is so protective of their identities, why would they ever take the risk? That’s out of character.

This isn’t the only way this issue was lazy either. This issue constantly uses singular panel pages, as if they’re just trying to fill up space.

There are 4 entire pages dedicated to just one panel. In a 22 page comic, that means there’s only 18 or so pages that don’t go to mostly waste.

When you have a page like that, it’s suppose to be exciting. The first issue of Wonder Comics Young Justice used them excellently, but also, they had 44 pages I believe. So they worked well with the pages they had to tell the story.

In this issue they just overused them, like they were just getting lazy. It feels like a comic that was written during a hangover. Something Bendis might’ve done last minute when he realized he forgot to write the script.

Regardless if that’s not the case, that’s what it feels like.

The dialogue by itself isn’t much either. Mostly feeling rushed as could be, or only generic funny moments.

This is an issue, written of the quality of a comic that knows it’s going to be cancelled. I don’t think that’s the literal case for Young Justice, but that’s the vibe it gives off. It’s written so lazily, like it knows there’s no point, but it’ll use cheap publicity stunts like changing a character’s identity to get any sort of attention it can get.

However one thing the issue does really well, is establish why Jinny sticks out and is important.

It actually makes me want to read a Jinny Hex solo adventure, because Bendis seems much more interested in her than the rest of the team.

Like I love this snarky, queer, magically teched out, cowgirl.

I’ve never been more disappointed by a comic in general in my entire life though.

The first issue of this series capped off like the original series never ended it. It felt right at home, from the art style, the costumes, the writing, the energy, the fast pace. They really captured the magic of Young Justice. That first issue felt so genuine.

In this: the art style was changed due to there being a new and unfitting artist, they’re already changing the costumes to stuff much blander, the writing has become forced and rushed, the energy is zapped, and the pacing is so bizarre because of the constant usage of single pages.

If you want spoilers on the only events in the current day Earth 3 story, here you go: They fight Earth 3 Young Justice (Young $#@%ers? I guess.), Jinny finally uses her magical items, they win, they go back home.

In the flashback story of Jinny: She gets cheated on, we find out she’s a natural hero, we get a sense of her family’s history, and we finally learn more about the mystery of the chest.

There’s so much more character building involved, and she gets to feel like a real fully fleshed out person because of that.

If you wanna see the best bit of character usage in the main story, and I’m not being sarcastic when I say I like this part. Is this:

As simple as it is, it uses Tim’s character and the world around him to make a simple moment actually be pretty funny, because it uses the basics of character writing.

Compared to the rest of the Earth 3 story’s over-usage of cheap generic dialogue that anyone could say, and while you could argue anyone could say “Noooo... thank you.” like Tim did in the above panel, it works best with Tim because he’s already been shown as the most awkward, yet moralistic member of the team.

It actually uses his character.

I think the above panel is a good showing at the weird choice Bendis has made.

Earth 3 Steph is a more fleshed out character with a purpose than pretty much the entire Young Justice team in this story. When this is only the second story in this run of Young Justice.

Shouldn’t it be more important to keep fleshing out and focusing on the team itself?

It doesn’t even feel like this is the first time these characters been together in a long time. They act as if they never been separated. Conner being stranded on Gemworld were he helped raise a kid doesn’t feel like it ever happened anymore. It affected nothing. It feels ignored. It makes the comic feel disjointed just from the last story arc.

Young Justice’s dialogue is almost entirely generic. Practically anyone could say what they have, and it would work just as well. There’s no character put into them, besides maybe Bart being immature and mouthy, but the whole team besides possibly Tim when he has his brain cell on is pretty immature and mouthy, and even then, Tim isn’t Captain of maturity, he mostly just forces himself to be because he felt obligated to be leader, he’s still a doofus kid.

An issue should never be written as badly as the Earth 3 story in this.

While the Jinny Hex story is actually really well-written as far as character building is concerned, the Earth 3 story is bottom of the barrel as far as quality goes, and that’s the story that actually has the whole team involved.

Bad dialogue, horrible out of character identity change, bad usage of page space, bizarre pacing, lack of story that actually feels worth paying attention too

This issue would personally be given a 3/10, and that 3 only comes from Jinny’s story being quite well written as a character piece.

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lornashore · 4 years

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Happy Halloween Carnival

Summary: An Arthur Fleck reader insert. You bring him over to your house for some halloween fun!

A/N: Halloween is most definitely my favorite holiday so this was incredibly fun to write! As we all know, Arthur deserves the best so I’m giving him a wonderful Halloween. Happy Halloween everyone!

Arthur watched out the window at the trees as the car sped down the empty street, observing all the gold and wine colors of the leaves. He had never seen such vibrant colors before, being used to the dull, drizzly days surrounded by the grey buildings of Gotham.

As you brought the car to a stop at a red light, you turned toward him for a moment, gently squeezing his knee. He looked at you, smiling brightly, clear excitement showing on his wrinkled features.

“Is this where you live?” He asked, motioning to the small neighborhood that was across from the long line of trees.

“I do. In fact you can see my house from here.” You said, pointing to a yard that was lit up by an orange and purple glow. Arthur's feet began to bounce up and down, unable to keep his nerves contained any longer. You giggled at him when he leaned forward in his seat to see the yard as you drove closer to it, pulling into the driveway and shutting off the engine. His features brightened even more when he was finally able to see your house in full view before him, exiting the care as swiftly as his feet would allow. He had always wanted to be able to decorate for holidays like this, but between his job and mother, he never found the time or reason to.

“Do you like it?” You asked him, wrapping your arm around his thin, boney waist.

“Yes of course! I think this little guy here is my favorite.” He said, pointing to a short, pudgy zombie jester sitting on one of your steps. Leaning forward, he reached out, grazing his hands over the blood soaked hair on his head when suddenly, the figure spun towards him. It’s pupils lit up red and a high pitched laugh sounded from the internal speaker, making Arthur startle, standing up straight.

“Happy Halloween!” The animatronic cackled, and Arthur laughed along with it, no longer frightened by the sudden movement.

“He’s motion censored, so anyone who walks past will get a frightful greeting! He’s one of my favorites too.” You said, leading Arthur up to your front door with your two grocery bags in hand and Arthur's overnight pack slung over your shoulder. He ducked beneath the fake webbing you strung all across the front deck, smiling when he noticed sparkly black bats and ghosts hanging from the roof.

Once you entered your home, you switched on the lights, revealing more of your spooky decor. A large cardboard coffin leaned against the wall in the entry room, lid ajar with two skeleton hands clung to it. You noticed him observing it and smirked as you plugged in the fog machine that was hidden within. He took a few steps back when he noticed the artificial mist collect around his feet.

“We’ll be leaving this on once the trick or treating starts. For now, come help me with these. I still have to fill up the candy bowl.” You said, taking Arthur by the hand and into your kitchen where you had a large plastic bowl decorated by white skulls setting on the counter.

“Here, can you fill that up for me?” You asked, handing him two large sacks of candy. He

did as you asked, stealing a couple pieces for himself when your back was turned.

“For now we can keep this on the little table next to the front door. Otherwise, let’s go get into our costumes!” You said, watching as he placed the bowl where you instructed and followed you to your bedroom.

You reached into the bag, taking your costume from it. Looking at the picture on the front of the package, you smiled at the soft rainbow colored clown costume Arthur had chosen for you. It wasn’t your first choice, but meeting those large blue orbs and puffed bottom lip, you couldn’t say no. He wanted to be a clown couple, so that’s what you intended to do. You changed quickly, seeing him deeply focused in your vanity mirror, his makeup and brushes strewn out in front of him,

You approached him, observing how the brush glided across his skin with an experienced hand. He paused for a moment to look at you, in your colorful polka-dotted dress and matching bow.

“I was right. You do look really cute in that.” He spoke softly. A light blush coated your face at his compliment, knowing he was doing the same despite the white paint that fully covered his cheeks. Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head against the side of his. He grasped onto your arms and kissed you softly there, still watching you.

“All you need now is a bit of paint.” He said, turning towards you.

“Oh..no I think It’ll be ok. You can finish yours.” You told him, not knowing where to begin as far as makeup went. You didn’t know the first thing about coming up with a look like that.

“Mines all done though. Please? I really want to do yours. I have plenty here.” He said. And again, you didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

You took a seat beside him on the two seater bench, closing your eyes so he could do whatever he wanted with the greasepaint. The gentle strokes of the brush relaxed you more than you thought it would, and you tried your best to imagine in your mind what he was drawing. When he was finished, he turned you towards the mirror.

You opened your eyes and studied your now painted face. The heart shaped pastel pink lips, matching cheeks, painted freckles, and an impressively detailed sun painted over your left eye tied it all together. You blushed again beneath the makeup, seeing your reflections side by side made you realize again how much he truly loved you, and loved spending moments like these together. The thought made your heart race, wishing the moment could last forever.

“One last thing.” He reached into his pocket for the spare red nose that never came with the costumes. He wanted you to feel like a real, professional clown like him, even if it were just for a night. With one hand, he turned your head towards him so you couldn’t see yourself anymore. You closed your eyes as well, remembering what he told you before about how one should never see the nose be put on. He did the same, and then pressed the puffy red ball to your nose, tying the string around the back of your head to secure it. Once again, he directed you towards your reflection. You opened your eyes and immediately they went wide, a shy grin slightly crinkling your painted skin seeing the costume completely done and ready.

“I think we should call you...Loonetta.” He said after a moment of pause. You giggled, covering your mouth with one hand.

“Look at you, you’re so cute! There’s no need to be shy.” His voice was high pitched as he spoke, now fully into his character. With both hands, he took your hands in his and began to dance. You moved along with him, humming an unknown tune out of key as you stepped in time with him. He spun you a few times, holding you close to his rigid frame and kissed the back of your neck. Even with the paint you thought his lips felt warm, leaving tingles on the cool flesh. You relaxed into him, still swaying back and forth in your bedroom, not wanting the moment to end.

The doorbell jingle brought you back to the present. You quickly dashed off smiling wide at the clown that was close on your heels.

“Who could be here at this time?” Carnival asked you. You paused at the door before opening it to turn to him.

“Just wait, I know you’ve never seen this before.” He cocked his head at your words, wondering what it was that he missed in your yard. You opened the door when you heard the bell ring again, stepping aside so he could see.

“Trick or Treat!” The small group of kids said in unison, holding their buckets and pillow cases out in front of them. Unsure of what to do next, he glanced over at you, then back at the expectant children.

“It’s ok, give them each a piece of candy from the bowl!” You instructed. And he did, happily, waving as he watched them walk back down the drive and onto the next house.

“Where did all these kids come from?” He asked, looking out at the many bodies crowding the street. You giggled at how silly he seemed, standing so close to the door that his nose almost pressed against the glass.

“It’s always this busy on Halloween! This year is actually more so then last. I hope I bought enough to last the whole night.” You said, eyeing the bowl that was once almost overfull now slowly losing its contents. You stepped out onto your front porch, propping the door open just as another group of kids approached.

“Trick or Treat!” They shouted from halfway up the yard. Immediately Carnival stepped beside you with the bowl in his hands. He dropped a piece in every bag that was held out to him with a different sound effect each time. One little girl in particular dressed as snow white found him to be very entertaining. She didn’t leave with the others and clapped her hands together when he produced a long string of handkerchiefs from his jacket sleeve. He beamed at this, clearly having the time of his life on that very night.

“What’s your name?” She asked, pointing at him with a tiny finger.

“Why, my name is Carnival! And this here is my companion, Loonetta!” He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Suddenly, the little girl approached him, arms outstretched and her candy sack left on the wood stair. She tightly wrapped her arms around one of his knees, resting her head there for a moment.

“I love you Carnival.” She said, tightening her grip. I looked at his face just in time to see a tear slip past his lashes, clearly surprised and touched by this child's kindness.

“Lucy! Geez, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t understand boundaries yet.” A curvy blond lady said, rushing towards the little girl that was still latched to Arthur's limb.

“It’s quite alright. She’s very sweet!” He leaned down then to pat the top of her head. “And you know what? I think I know what you would like.” He straightened his posture, placing his heels together before pulling a bouquet of pink flowers from his suit. She perked up immediately, stubby fingers reaching for the fake flowers he held out to her.

“Thank you!” She said before following her mother down to the street.

It was quiet after that, only a few older kids stopped by every so often.

Once everything calmed down, and the once crowded road was now quiet and empty, The after excitement fatigue creeped upon your tired, slumped frame. You shivered, feeling a cold breeze cut through you as you gazed out into the night.

“That’s everyone. Let’s head back in now.” You said, turning to your door. Once you were inside, Carnival closed and locked the door behind you. He grasped onto your wrist, pulling you to him as close as he could before you could walk off, resting his hands on the small of your back.

“Thank you for inviting me, I never knew Halloween could be this much fun.” He said, his voice husky and tired.

“I’m just glad you agreed to come over. I knew you would enjoy it.” You said, placing a kiss to his soft red painted lips. He brushed his rough fingers through your hair, stopping at the back of your head to massage gentle circles there. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your forehead against his gazing at each other. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other, yet both began to feel a tingle of sleep fast approaching.

“Happy Halloween Loonetta.” He whispered after a long moment of comfortable silence passed.

“Happy Halloween Carnival.” You replied, kissing his forehead. You then led him down the hall so the two of you could ready yourselves for a long, much needed sleep.

#arthur #fleck #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck reader insert #arthur fleck imagine #arthur imagine #arthur x reader #joker #joker x reader #JOKER2019 #2019 #joker movie

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emmalily · 4 years

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The color story in The Return

So in the Before the Shadows episode this week, Harvey Guillén had on Amanda Neale who is the costume designer for the show. Highly recommend you watch it, it’s absolutely fascinating. She mentions that she designs Guillermo’s looks in mind to complement Nandor’s which speaks volumes, doesn’t it? I never really paid close attention to their outfits (other than “i want all of his sweaters and all of Nadja’s gowns”) but I definitely sat up and took notice this episode, and wow.

I have some Thoughts about the color story in this episode and I’m sharing them because fuck it, I can. Also, this should be self-evident, but spoilers ahoy.

Putting this under a cut because it got long...

***Full disclosure for the images, I bumped up the brightness in a few of these to make the details easier to read but I didn’t manipulate the colors.

First of all, Nadja & Laszlo’s outfits are consistently matching. From the opening scene to the bat fight, their looks clearly come across as a united front. They both have similar details & textures across their outfits.

It’s difficult to tell, but they’re both wearing some kind of bow, their sleeves are ruffly/puffy, and most obvious of all, the color palette matches.(Also those chairs. omg. I need a set of mint green wingback chairs)

Here again when Simon is asking about Carol, both their looks are similarly textured, they’re both wearing a cravat/bow, and I’m pretty sure that there are flashes of red(?) underneath Laszlo’s collar and across the front of Nadja’s dress.

They are also shot in the same lighting. This is relevant because when we get to Nandor & Guillermo, the colors in their outfits and the lighting used contrasts against each other.

Here, Nandor is dressed in primarily warm colors, while Guillermo is in cooler ones. Nandor’s tunic(?) is decorated with very ornate, organic shapes and while Guillermo’s sweater has some abstract shapes, they’re slightly more rigid. Nandor is off towards the light, while Guillermo is in the shadows.

When Simon reveals his trash bat, the lighting really sets Nandor & Guillermo apart.

Nandor is lit, strangely enough, in warm colors, while there’s a blue backdrop to Guillermo’s side. This difference is very prevalent throughout this episode.

HOWEVER. When we get to that scene, they’re both wearing cool tones.

This is the moment that could drive them apart and yet, Nandor comes to Guillermo’s aid. You can read his motivations many different ways, but I choose to believe he is afraid, not just of Guillermo, but for Guillermo. He immediately chooses Gullermo over the household. It would be safer, better, for him to throw Guillermo out of the house and yet Nandor chooses to keep him (for now). He’s not even angry with Guillermo, even though he has every right to be. This scene mirrored the part in the Trial when Nandor confesses to killing the Baron to save Guillermo from getting eaten and I am here for it.

Don’t mind me, I just wanted to throw this heartbreaker in here

Even when Guillermo’s instincts take over and they are truly pushed apart, the lighting and colors still tie them together.

Then, when Simon starts asking about Carol, their division is highlighted again.

Guillermo’s sweater is again blue & green, with geometric shapes, while he’s also in a darker, greener light

vs Nandor, dressed in reds and leathers (almost like armor?) and bathed in warmer lighting.

The sewer scenes were harder to capture because it’s so dark, but again, Nandor is in this red & black leather getup and Guillermo is in what looks like a blue or black wool coat with reddish plaid underneath.

It ends with Nandor’s suspicion of Guillermo continuing to grow, so it’ll be interesting to see how this influences their outfits moving forward.

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sharpace · 5 years

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“Well! Your lot certainly made a mess of Europe” “My lot?!” - 1649

Costuming thoughts under the cut!

Bonus:

Before I get into my own little adventure, I want to say this show has my favorite costumes. They are so beautiful made and well thought out. I’m just singing with joy.

OKAY COSTUME THOUGHTS TIME So I’ve been researching this era for a costume I’d like to sew in the future and BOY what a rich century for fashion. Naturally, I had to share a little bit of that enthusiasm with some fanart.

For this piece, I wanted to narrow in on the 1630-1650s because of the duality of the styles and the huge cultural shifts happening at the time. During this era, you had the 30 Year War and the English Civil War which sobered up fashion while during the same era, you had the King Charles I and King Louis XIII who both loved to make a big show of wealth and power through fashion. After composing a general knowledge, I started analysing Aziraphale and Crowley’s fashions between the 1601 and 1793 alongside their descriptions.

Crowley

“Crowley thinks he’s really cool, and he wants to adapt his coolness to the time period, and so he’s very profligate with his looks, his version of what’s on trend.” - Tennant

The key thing I understood from the show was that Crowley doesn’t necessary wear the hottest fashions of the time but he certainly wears what he thinks is “cool”. The difference between these two seems slight but I think it’s what distinguishes it as his own personal style. For example, Crowley’s 1967 look combines a beatnik, the Beatles, and a greaser versus what those would look like on their own. When combined you kind of go “Yeah, this guy would have hundreds of pounds lying around to rob a bank” instead of “I loved your hit Yesterday.”. When narrowing in on his style, he pretty consistently has sleek silhouette and feels modern in every scene. Due to this, I wanted to set myself a hard year as he changes his fashion frequently, so I chose 1649. 1648 marked the end of the 30 Year War; a war which had sobered and sombered fashion into more of a military style. And in 1649 through the 1660s, post-war fashion became a celebration of decadence. While I didn’t see Crowley wearing lace collars and silk breeches, I did see him having a “modern” silhouette more fitting of the 1650s.

Image Sources: 1 2 3 4 5

Aziraphale

Now with Aziraphale I struggled with pinpointing quite what it was that made his clothes his. His clothes are finely made but not showy, they’re within the same color scheme but is willing to take on small variations of color and pattern, and the silhouette can best be described as comfortable.

When working on his design I took into account that Aziraphale buys his clothes (a fact noted in the books. Crowley makes his appear) and in episode 3 he states that he has “standards”. So with all this in mind, I interpreted this as a deep appreciation for craftsmanship which is why he holds onto them for so long. He’s quite proud of the fact that he’s kept his coat “in tip-top condition for over 180 years” so that’s a pretty good indication of his love for his clothes. This lines up pretty well considering most of the times he’s shown he’s about 20-100 years out of fashion.

“Great!” I said, “Since he’s behind on the times and appreciates craftsmanship, I will just place him somewhere in the early 1600s and–” annndd put myself up against the beautiful 1601 design from the show. Oh dear. Not only was that troubling but I really wanted this piece to feel distinct in its own era but not quite so with the times as Crowley.

So I took the middle of the road by using 1620s/1630s fashion with bits that would also be from the 1600s (breeches and shirt namely). The 1620s/1630s in England was characterized with the extravagant . I reasoned that breeches are comfortable and more likely to withstand time versus the stockings, the Vandyck collar requires quite a lot of craftsmanship between the shape and lace, and the doublet made a dramatic change in shape with the slashed sleeves and square shoulders, and embroidered cuffs which would leave his doublet from 1601 dramatically out of style (though I’m sure he still wears it with pride).

Image Sources: 1 2 3 4

With all that put together, ta-da! The finished product and a ridiculous pair that I am having way too much fun designing in different eras. I think I may do one more of these but it’ll be starkly different than the Edwardian one and this one.

#good omens #good omens fanart #1640s #aziraphale #crowley #go #ineffable husbands #full disclosure I dont ship them romantically #i just love their love so dang much #sharpart #digital art #procreate #costuming #fashion #idk #sometimes i just word vomit for these tags #snek #i

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vantaestummy · 4 years

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Quick sick Yoongi drabble

A/N: this cane to me while i was sleeping. sweet and short and of course, love my taegi. for imagery, i imagine yoongi to look like he does in the selfie that jimin took after they played just dance! (you know exactly what i’m talking about 😉)

TW/// emeto

The tour bus swayed on the uneven road, the nauseating sensation akin to that of being on a boat. Taehyung was such a good boyfriend. When was he not.

He places a cool towel around Yoongi’s shoulders, the rapper hunching over the girnourmous square-shaped bucket that was stuffed under the seats. It was actually used to pack shoes but, the boys had forgotten that it was there. This is a more important occasion, Taehyung thinks.

Yoongi’s been leaning over it for the past thirty minutes, his legs crossed with the bucket pulled into his lap. His head bobs along with the movement of the bus, the boy hissing every time they hit a sharp turn or bump. Namjoon and Seokjin are two rows away, worrying themselves to the point of sickeness. Jimin and Jungkook are with Hoseok, advising that he put in his headphone because things are probably going to get a bit messy. Jungkook thinks it best for Jimin to do the same. He knows his two boyfriends very well. At least Hoseok will own up to his squeamishness but Jimin is far too prideful to admit that he’s just as bad. Maybe even worse.

“Your hairs getting so long, baby. Let me pull it back, okay?” Taehyung mumbles, tying at Yoongi’s honey blonde fringe with a shooky hair tie, combing through his dark roots with love and care. Yoongi hasn’t said a single word since he started looking utterly nauseous. His lips are pouted as he sniffles, his mouth parting every so often, false alarms. It’s when Taehyung is done with his hair that things take a turn for the worst.

Yoongi’s shoulder roll as he starts to dry cough into the bucket, each time the sound growing more and more wet. Saliva pools under Yoongi’s tongue, gravity doing its thing as it starts to dangle from his bottom lip. He coughs a few more times, all painful and wheezing. Taehyung is right beside him, running circles into his back and scratching up and down the length of his curved spine.

“Should we stop? I can ask Sejin to let us stop for a break.” Seokjin asks, worry coloring his tone. His eyes are wide, as well as even a bit wet. Namjoon entwines their hand so that he can give the older boy’s wrist a soft kiss.

Taehyung sighs with a shake of his head. “We’re twenty minutes away from the venue. It’s better that we get there so hyung can get off of this bus for good.”

They had taken Yoongi’s medicine before the trip, stocking just enough for the duration of the drive, but so many of the roads had been blocked off due to construction, lengthening the journey without warning. They weren’t prepared for this, but Taehyung was going to do everything he could to make sure Yoongi was as comfortable as possible.

“Baby, breathe. We’re almost there.”

Yoongi sniffles, spitting into the bucket as he intakes a deep breath. His knuckles burn red as he grips the sides of the bucket with pure vigor. Things seem okay until, they’re not.

Yoongi gags fruitlessly, his little toungue popping out of his mouth as he leans foward. He continues to gag, more ropes of spit dripping into the bucket. Thank goodness Jungkook has convinced both Jimin and Hoseok to put in their headphones. It has taken them some time to realize that, just because they are protecting their own wellbeing, doesn’t mean they love or care for Yoongi any less. They are in fact, doing everyone a favor. One puking member of BTS is better than three.

“That’s it baby. It’ll be over soon. I’m right here. Jungkook-ah, please get me a bottle of water.”

“Bet.” Jungkook stands from his chair before reaching up to the overhead railing, grabbing a bottle from the pack of waters they had stocked. He hands it over to Taehyung, his gaze empathetic and sorrowful when he takes note of how miserable his hyung looks. He’s been in his boat one too many times before. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world.

Yoongi’s upper half rocks back and forth, each jolt of his body caused by the coughing/gagging sounds that his throat emits. He shakes his head as he spits into the bucket, his nose tickled by all the mucus. His face scrunches as he sneezes and as fucking cute as that is, now is not the time, Taehyung has to remind himself.

Yoongi’s silence has been troubling Taehyung ever since he grew so quiet, but that worry is long gone when he starts to heave.

Yoongi gags, the sound more like a retch as a splash of kimchi falls from his mouth and plops into the bucket. His head hangs low as he retches again, this time, a stream of orangish vomit pouring into the bucket, barely giving Yoongi a chance to breathe before his stomach is once again in his throat. A thick stream of bile is drained from his body like a faucet, filling the bucket halfway with a sickening sound, the puke piling up and up until it looks like a gallon full. Taehyung winces as he rubs Yoongi’s back, to the point of tears. He wishes there was more that he could do but really, there isn’t much at all.

Yoongi rocks, gargling out two more larger rounds of his lunch. The amount of bile he heaves after each bout of vomit becomes less and less until there isn’t much more left in his stomach. At the end, he is left spitting and sneezing, his face scrunching up in the most adorable way every time. Taehyung really wants to coo but the bus kind of smells like vomit and he thinks it best that Yoongi get some fresh air, now that they’re finally at the venue.

The bus pulls up to the back entrance with one loud screech. Hoseok and Jimin are hauled off by Jungkook, the smell starting to get to them. Namjoon and Seokjin make their way to the back, watching helplessly as Taehyung opens the bottle of water, handing it to Yoongi so that he can rinse his mouth out.

“Is there anything we can do?” Seokjin asks, his voice cracking. Namjoon holds out his hands for the bucket, his sweater paws enough to protect himself from the rims splattered with undigested food bits.

“Let me take this. We have mic check in a few hours. The best we can do is let Yoongi-hyung rest, yeah Jin-hyung?”

Seokjin nods, at a loss. The two leave Taehyung and Yoongi to fend for themselves, the older boy dragging his hands down his face, frustrated and still a little queasy.

“Please don’t look at me. I’m so embarrassed and I just want to be alone.” He mumbles, his chin and his cheeks and even his nose are tinted the prettiest shades of pink, even if the color comes from his illness.

Taehyung shakes his head before tucking a strand of Yoongi’s growing hair behind his ear.

“I am not going to leave you like this. You’re sick and you’re crying and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I bet you money that each and every one of us has puked on this bus more than twice. Remember last month? When Jungkook ate six cups of spicy ramen and spewed all over the seats? We couldn’t get the smell out of the leather for weeks. And that was because of a choice he made. This wasn’t your fault baby.”

Yoongi giggles tearfully, rubbing at his eyes with his oversized sleeves. His face is what gives him away, the downward curve of his pouted lips, the sadness swimming in his eyes. He’s being way too hard on himself for Taehyung’s liking, and the younger boy can’t handle it. He loves his boyfriend way too much to just allow him to hate himself, for something that he didn’t do on purpose.

“‘M not crying...” Yoongi weeps. Taehyung chuckles sadly before scooting closer.

Taehyung moves Yoongi’s hands way from his face gently, caressing his reddened knuckles and searching for his eyes. Yoongi avoids his adoring gaze, tear streaks plastered to his chubby cheeks.

“Baby please look at me. I love you and I want you to look at me when I say this.”

Yoongi sniffles; biting at his lip as to clamp in a whimper. He looks up, Taehyung’s boxy smile there to greet him when he does. Yoongi giggles, his gums showing.

“This is not your fault. You have no reason to be embarrassed. If anything, all of us were so scared. We just want to make sure you’re alright. Now, we have about three hours before mic check and all I want is to cuddle you while you wear one of my big sweatshirts, is that okay? Can we do that please?”

Yoongi giggles, covering his lips with his sweater paws before keeling over and slumping into Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung pets at his hair lovingly, happy to see that Yoongi’s natural flush has returned.

“I love you, Tae-ah.”

“I love you more hyung. Do you feel better? Can you drink some water for me?”

Yoongi nods. “But only if you let me keep on your sweatshirt for the mic check.”

Taehyung thinks that can be arranged.

“Deal.” He says, before the two of them start to laugh for a very long time.

A/N: did i say short? 😬

#bts sickfic #sick bts #emeto #sickfic #sick #my fic #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!taehyung #sick!taegi #tw throwing up #tw puke #tw vomiting

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cue-transformation-music · 4 years

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Your theme is- Doctors. U v U)

Please note that I have not looked into Healin’ Good Precure at all aside from character designs, so if I accidentally copied it I apologize. Also, there’s gonna be some talk about surgery, needles, and medical horror.

Far away, there’s a magical kingdom called Asclepius. There, people live long and comfortable lives due to the amount of medical care. They are guided by King Vax and his loyal advisor, the bee fairy Screen. Screen ends his sentences in -scre, and he is responsible for using divination to try and keep Asclepius safe. However, Screen is getting old, and he’s training an apprentice, the dog fairy Preven.

When the Rotovir League attacks, Preven is tasked with finding the four destined members of Yes! Dress Medicate Pretty Cure. In addition to their standard forms, they each have three power boosts they can use (but only for a short time, and only one at a time): bandage (more magical stamina), needle (emphasis on defensive magic), and scalpel (emphasis on offensive magic). All of them can use healing magic. First, however, they need to find a way to keep the Rotovir League from sinking their claws in too deeply on Earth, and also battle the warusu they keep sending. (Warusu literally translates to Aggravate, but it’s also me making a portmanteau of the Japanese translation of the phrase “bad virus”, aka warui uirusu.)

Our leader is Ayako Satō, aka Cure Pediatric. She wants to go to medical school and become a pediatrician. Everyone who knows her says that Ayako is very helpful and studious, and everyone who’s known her since she was a child will say that it’s wonderful that she’s grown into such a kind and disciplined young woman. In reality, she’s a bit of a stepford smiler, and she’s wanted to go to med school because she blames herself for her sister’s death when they were both rather young.

Ayako is definitely going to become the dark magical girl of the season, and it’ll be up to Preven and the other cures to save her. Instead of black, she’s going to wear a really bright red because surgeons wear cool colors for relief for their eyes from flesh tones. In the mean time, she’s got some cool attacks involving stickers and lollipops.

In blue we have Mieko Okabe, aka Cure Neurologist. She’s claustrophobic and isn’t fond of sports, but she loves video games and often will use video game terms in battle. Her powers allow her to use illusions. When Ayako is taken over by the Rotovir League and becomes a warusu, Mieko ends up leading the team.

In green we have Yūki Masumoto, aka Cure Anesthetic. Her powers allow her to use a sort of venom. It takes her a while to start using her needle and scalpel forms, because she found them scary, but when she does use them she’s incredibly powerful. Even though she’s a bit of a crybaby, she’s also very happy-go-lucky; the smiles she has are real. Yūki is a bit of a daydreamer, and she wants to write comic books. She ends up collaborating with Mieko on video games, with Mieko doing the code and Yūki taking care of the story.

Finally, in purple we have Kirika Kawaguchi, aka Cure Plastic. Due to a car crash when she was little, Kirika has a wheelchair. It flies in combat as well as helps her with the fact that her powers center around building, and she will not gain the ability to walk at the end of the series unlike a certain show I won’t mention here. She wants to run a line of fashionable prosthetics and wheelchair accessories. I’ll admit, I was tempted to call her Cure Prosthetic or Cure Bioengineer, but the first feels patronizing and the latter doesn’t really fit with the theme.

Also, I ended up designing Cure Pediatrics’s standard outfit.

Yes, she has four heart shaped buns. All the girls have the mask and the same lab coat vest and skirt. However, the lab vest and skirt change slightly for the bandage, needle, and scalpel forms. In addition, the girls each have different sleeves, gloves, shoes, and symbols. Their transformation pens are kept in their left pocket. In their right pocket are three (bandage, needle, and scalpel) charms they must touch to their pens to use.

IDK IF ANYONE WOULD DO THIS BUT SEND ME A THEME AND I’LL MAKE A FANCURE TEAM BASED ON IT

#pretty cure (general)#my magical girls #needles mention #no i will not make a contract #yes! dress medicate pretty cure #fancure

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Sixty-Two: Tie-Dye ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Mikoto, Hyūga Hanako, Hyūga Hiashi, Uzumaki Kushina ] [ SasuHina, divorce, pregnancy ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Mooom, I got somethin’ for ya.”

Looking up from some paperwork on the dining room table, Mikoto accepts a manilla envelope from her son. “Oh? What’s this?”

“Teacher gave it to me.”

Adjusting her reading glasses, the mother doesn’t see any writing on the outside, instead pulling open the top and reading a few papers inside. “...oh! Seems like your kindergarten class is having a Spring festival of sorts!”

“Festival…?”

“Mhm.” Pulling Sasuke atop her knee, Mikoto points a finger, reading along out loud. “We are pleased to announce the fourth annual Spring Fling festival for Konoha Kindergarten. Join us this Saturday for games, activities, snacks, and fun! Parents are encouraged to attend alongside their children to help monitor the booths and enjoy themselves, too. Tickets are five dollars.” She gives her son a glance. “What do you think, Sasuke? Want to go?”

The boy’s brow wilts a bit, thinking. It’s no secret he’s a little bit shy, but...it does sound like fun. Especially if his mom gets to go! “Is it okay…?”

“I think it’s a great idea! So, it’s settled: we’ll go. It’ll be fun!” Smiling, she sets the papers aside and hugs the boy, digging her fingers a bit into his sides to earn a slew of giggles.

In all honesty, she’s glad for the distraction. The last few months have been...difficult, to say the least. Divorcing her husband and moving across town hasn’t been easy...on her, or her kids. Hopefully some good ol’ fashioned fun and games will help Sasuke cheer up. The poor boy’s been so quiet…

“Can Itachi go with us?”

“Hm...I don’t see why not. He’s not a parent, but...he is your big brother! I’m sure no one will mind.” It didn’t say anything about siblings, but Itachi’s a good kid - maybe he can help keep a few little ones in line to earn his place.

“Okay…!”

Once he goes back to school the next day, everyone’s abuzz about the festival. Even the teachers seem excited!

“Sasukeee!”

Turning to a familiar voice, Sasuke manages a hint of a smile. “Hi Naruto.”

“Hey, hey! Are you going on Saturday?”

“Yeah, my mom said I could go.”

“Awesome! I’m gonna kick your butt in all the games!”

Sasuke doesn’t reply - he’s not really going for any kind of competition...he just wants to have fun.

Several other classmates agree that they’re attending too, everyone talking about their parents staying or not. “My mom’s gonna be there!” Naruto crows.

“My mom and dad too!” Sakura, another well-known face agrees.

“Mhm!”

What about you, Hinata?”

“Y...yeah! M-my mom will be there!”

“Isn’t she gonna have a baby soon?”

Something falters in the girl’s expression. “Y...yes! At...at the end of the month.”

Something about her reply earns a curious glance from Sasuke, even as everyone else keeps talking. Not really invested anymore anyway, he moves to sit beside her. “Is the baby okay?”

Clearly a bit startled at being addressed again, it takes Hinata a moment to reply. “Y...yes. It’s okay. Um…” Her head ducks. “...my mom and dad don’t...d-don’t want to live together anymore.”

“Oh...mine neither.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah…” He doesn’t elaborate, the subject still a little sore.

“Oh...I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

After a pause, Hinata goes on. “...Dad wants the baby to stay with him, and for me to stay with Mom. It means a l-lot of fighting…”

That sounds eerily familiar. “...my dad wanted my brother, too. But Mom said no, so...he came with us.”

“...Mom said no too, but -”

It’s then the bell rings, and everyone starts filing in for class. Glancing up, Sasuke gives her one last look before doing the same. Part of him can’t help but see Hinata in a new light, knowing what he knows now. There’s not a lot of kids like him: kids with only one parent. There’s Naruto, whose father died when he was very young...but everyone else seems to have a whole family.

...in a way...he almost feels a little closer to her somehow.

After that, it’s just a matter of waiting for the weekend...which, even more so than usual, seems to take forever to arrive. But after the slowest week ever, it’s finally Saturday!

Mikoto drives her boys to the kindergarten, parking near Kushina’s familiar vehicle before letting them disembark. “Are you guys excited?”

“Yeah!”

Itachi smiles at his brother as they walk toward the front door where tickets are being sold. “Ready to play some games?”

“Mhm! Will you play some with me?”

“We’ll see.”

The trio are let in, going into the back open play yard where booths of all kinds are set up. Games, activities, and even places to get snacks! Already the grass is full of kids running amok and parents keeping an eye on things.

“What should we do first, Sasuke?”

Still looking it all over in a bit of awe, he pauses as he spots Hinata. Beside her is a woman who looks just like her, her tummy looking close to bursting! It seems they’re...making shirts? “...this one!”

The little family make their way over, and Mikoto says hello. “I’m Mikoto! My son Sasuke is in Hinata’s class, I believe.”

Smiling tiredly, the other woman nods. “Yes, she mentioned him! I’m Hanako - it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise!” Though she smiles, something in the Uchiha mother’s expression falters, seeing the state of her new companion. The shadows under her eyes are dark, frame thin...but looking newly so. It’s a look she recognizes herself.

In the meantime, the kids get to know each other. Hinata nods shyly to Itachi. “So, what do we do here?” Sasuke asks.

“It...i-it’s a place to make funny shirts! Tie...dye?”

Huh...he’s never heard of that before. “...cool!”

Once a group has gathered, they get to work. The instructor shows them how to fold and twist and tuck their soon-to-be tie-dye shirts. Sasuke picks a dark blue color, Hinata a pale purple, and Itachi a red. They all make their shirts into different shapes before dunking them in the water. And now...to wait!

They all peer into the buckets, poking the fabric a bit. “...is it really gonna make a pattern…? How’s it do that, Itachi?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Nearby, Kushina’s now joined the group, talking to both Mikoto and Hanako as Naruto clings to a hand. The latter looks worried, a hand on her middle, while the other two speak in hushed tones. Sasuke watches for a moment before glancing to Hinata, who does the same. Both can’t help concerned expressions as Itachi puts a hand on each of their shoulders.

And then...things get worse.

“Hanako!”

The Hyūga woman flinches, and the voice draws her companions’ gazes. Ducking away, Naruto joins his friends. “Hey...what’s going -?”

Itachi silences him with a gesture, his own face tense.

Across the yard, a man strides forward, drawing gazes with both voice and movement. But before he can reach his wife, Kushina and Mikoto step in front of her.

“You’re making a scene,” the latter warns in a hushed tone.

“Get out of my way -”

“If it’s a scene you want, it’s a scene you can have,” Kushina cuts in, rolling up her sleeves despite Mikoto’s warning.

Hanako tenses, taking half a step back. It prompts Hinata to step up, clinging to her mother.

The move isn’t missed by Hiashi, who looks down his nose at her.

“This is the last place you need to start something,” the redhead tries again. “Nothing’s final - she can be here if she damn well pleases. If she doesn’t want you here, you should leave.”

Watching nervously, Sasuke eventually glances to Naruto...who nods, thinking the same thing. The pair move as one up in front of Hinata, mimicking their mothers with folded arms and scowls.

“Is there a problem?” their teacher cuts in, approaching cautiously.

“...no,” Hiashi mutters, seeing he’s outnumbered. “I was merely checking in on my wife. She’s quite far along, and I...didn’t want anything happening to the child.”

“I can assure you, this is all meant to be calm and fun, sir. She’ll be just fine.”

He lingers a moment more, eyes flickering between all the women before conceding. “Come straight home,” he orders as he turns his back, marching back toward the doors.

The tension lingers until he disappears, and even then it’s slow to break. The mothers turn to Hanako, somber understanding in their eyes. In tandem, Naruto and Sasuke do the same.

“You okay, Hinata?” Sasuke asks softly.

She doesn’t reply, still attached to her mother.

The little group lingers quietly until the booth runner announces that the shirts are done. They’re rinsed, and then unfurled to reveal the dye job.

“Whoa!” Sasuke’s is a perfect swirl of blue and white. His brother’s, red, almost looks like fire spread randomly over the fabric. And Hinata’s lilac shirt is peppered with little starbursts of white.

“That turned out so pretty!” Sasuke compliments, seeing her hold it up.

“T...thanks.”

“I wanna try!” Naruto demands, tugging on his mother’s hand. “Can we make an orange one? Can we, can we?”

“Sure, sure!”

“- with us if you want.”

Perking at his mother’s voice, Sasuke glances over to see her still talking with Hanako.

“No...I need to go home. He...he won’t do anything bad. It’s just so uncomfortable there while things are in the process…”

“Believe me, I know...I just got through it myself. If you need anything, you have my number. Any time.”

“Thank you, Mikoto...you and Kushina both. I just...want this all to be over. The pregnancy, the divorce...I want to put this all behind me.”

“You will. You’re so strong. Any time you want Hinata looked after, just tell me - she can come stay with us for a while. It’s clear they get along.”

“...Mom?”

Looking over, Mikoto puts a smile on. “Oh, look! That turned out wonderful! What do you say - wanna try some games?”

“Okay.”

“We’ll all go together! Let’s see what we can do next.”

As the adults scope things out, Sasuke keeps near Hinata, still feeling rather protective. “...you okay?”

“...mhm…”

“I really like your shirt.”

“M-me too.” She manages just a hint of a smile, and Sasuke smiles back.

“Don’t worry, Hinata. My mom and Naruto’s mom will help your mom! And we’ll help you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Naruto agrees, popping back up on her other side. “Cuz we’re all friends now!”

There’s a pause, Hinata looking at a loss before softening. “...mhm…”

“And we’ll all have matching shirts,” Sasuke adds, grinning. “The tie-dye squad!”

As the other two agree, Itachi chuckles softly behind them.

This got a lil long, but also feels a little rushed...it's a bigger idea than I have time for sadly, so...here's a slightly abridged version. Maybe I'll do a fuller one someday when I have more time! Anyway, this got...a lot heavier than I intended. But I wrote it in tandem with some RP plotting in the same vein, so...it just kinda...happened. But I do like the premise - add it to my ever-growing pile of projects that need expansion, aha~ But yeah, that's all for tonight, and early(ish) for once, woo! Thanks for reading, and see y'all tomorrow~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha mikoto #uchiha itachi #hyūga hinata #hyūga hanako #hyūga hiashi #uzumaki kushina #uzumaki naruto #divorce //#pregnancy //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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minaminokyoko · 5 years

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A Men in Black: International Headcanon Ficlet

A/N: Someone call sanitation to take me to a landfill, for I am trash. Here is a scene that I thought up that I’d love to happen in the upcoming Thorkyrie AU Men in Black: International. I am so sorry.

"M!"

Agent H had screamed her name with a panic too real for his usual cool demeanor. She turned to see the alien pointing an odd-looking bio-weapon at her. It was too close. She didn't have time to move. This was it. The end.

The alien fired.

And Agent H tackled her out of the way.

He cried out as the shot took him high up in the back and they both crumpled to the street in a heap. The aliens chattered to each other and retreated before she could wriggle out from under her motionless partner. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. He wasn't moving. Dear God, he wasn't moving.

"H?" M said, her voice high and panicked as she heaved him onto his side. "H, look at me! Say something!"

She couldn't breathe. He still wasn't moving. Had he just...no, there was no way he was gone. She gave his cheek a slap and he groaned, catching her wrist. His eyelids fluttered and he glared at her.

"Don't hit me again."

M's breath came out in a shaky rush of relief. "Get up, you big stupid lout."

She stood and gripped his arm, hauling him to his feet. Her hands came away red with blood. It was already pouring down the side of his suit and soaking into his shirt. She could see the shot had left some kind of hideous starfish-shaped entity buried into the back of his right shoulder.

"Come on, we have to get you back to HQ--"

Agent H shook his head. "Too far. I'll bleed out before we get there. My apartment's closer."

He hit the fob to unlock the car and handed the keys to her. "Drive. Fast."

She nodded tightly and helped him into the passenger's seat. She slid over the hood and climbed in, and then drove like a bat out of hell. He gave directions, and with every grimace, she felt worse and worse. Thanks to her panic, they reached his place in less than ten minutes. He'd lost enough blood that she had to support him along the way. He used biometrics to open the door, spilling her into a loft-style apartment. The hallway led them to the kitchen and she propped him up against the island counter.

"What do you need to take this thing off you?" M asked. "Pliers?"

Agent H shook his head. "No, it's an Urpath stinger. They latch on and deploy barbs beneath the skin. The whole point is to make you bleed out or die of infection. You can't just pull it out."

He gestured to the doorway on her left. "Footlocker in front of the bed. You're looking for big prong-looking thing. Like a tuning fork. First Aid kit's in there as well."

She nodded and ducked inside his bedroom, sifting through the various weapons and devices until she found it as well as the kit. By the time she returned, he's gotten his suit jacket, tie, and shirt off. He reached for the prong and she frowned at him, not offering it. "What are you doing?"

"Taking it out," he said, confused.

"You can't possibly reach it. Just let me."

He scowled. "May I remind you that this is your fault?"

She gritted her teeth. "Listen, you stubborn fool, you'll only hurt yourself more trying to work with one hand. Now shut up and let me take it out."

He glared, seeming defiant, but his skin had paled even more and weariness had set in. He plopped down on the stool in front of the counter and she hopped up to sit on it so she could reach, since he was so much taller than her.

She winced deeply as she saw the disgusting little creature. It was a dark, sickly green color and shaped like one of those toy jacks kids used to play with in the old days. Mostly dried blood crusted on his skin all the way down to the top of his slacks. Either he had a high tolerance for pain or he was simply hiding how much it hurt. It looked truly hideous, and her stomach churned with guilt and worry.

"So what do I do?" she asked.

"The tips of the prong are electrified. Find an entry point and jab it into the stupid thing. It'll force it to release the barbs and you can pull it out."

"Electrified?" she sputtered. "It...isn't that going to hurt you?"

H shrugged his other shoulder. "Pain don't hurt."

She sighed. "Whatever you say, Patrick Swayze."

M examined the nasty beast and noticed some sort of opening, and she didn't question what it was. She switched on the button at the bottom of the prong and heard the telltale hum that she'd armed it, and then swiftly stabbed the alien creature.

Agent H flinched and grabbed the ends of the counter, grunting. His breathing deepened and quickened. She muttered "sorry" to him and pushed the prongs in deeper. As she did, the creature started to wriggle and she could see some of the tiny, sharp barbs popping out of his shoulder blade one at a time. She watched them carefully as they fell away. Fresh blood leaked out of new wounds as they did.

"Why did you do that?" she asked so quietly she herself almost didn't hear it.

H tilted his head slightly in her direction. "What?"

"Why?" she repeated. "Why did you take this shot for me?"

"You're five-foot-nothing and you barely weigh a hundred pounds," he said with a dismissive snort. "It would have gone right through you."

"That's not what I meant," she snapped. "You don't even like me."

"So what?"

"So what? You're hurt. Why did you take that hit for me when you've spent nearly the whole day telling me what a screw up I am and how I'm a stone around your bloody neck? Why did you risk your life for me when you can barely stand me?"

"I don't have to like you. You're my partner."

She froze then, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You're my partner," he repeated slowly. "My job is to protect you. Doesn't matter if we get along."

M couldn't find words to reply to that. It had a simple, immovable weight to it. He hadn't accepted her, but he had accepted her position. He had accepted their partnership. In some small way, he...trusted her. Enough to risk his life. It said more about him than anything else they'd done today.

The alien's last barbs released from his skin. She exhaled. "This is going to hurt. A lot."

"What else is new?" he muttered.

She gripped the prong tightly in one hand.

And with the other, reached down and held his right hand where it rested on the counter.

He stiffened a bit in surprise, but he didn't draw away. She squeezed his fingers and then yanked the creature out at long last. He hissed sharply through his teeth and she held on tight until the tension left him. "What do I do with this monstrosity?"

"Garbage disposal."

She chuckled darkly and hopped off the counter. "My pleasure."

She shoved the remains of the alien down the drain and vindictively flipped the switch. Its green blood splattered around the bottom of the sink until it had been completely ripped to shreds. She ran water until she was sure it was all gone and then returned to her spot on the counter. She wet some gauze and cleaned off the dried blood before taking a fresh wad and slowing his bleeding. It took a few minutes, so she glanced around at the clean, brightly lit apartment. The colors were warm--mostly reds and golds and oranges. The furniture was simple brown leather and oak wood fixtures. All around the den, she spotted oil canvas paintings of various things--bowls of fruit, sunsets, the ocean, wildlife.

"Nice place," she said offhandedly. "Didn't expect that."

"Oh? What did you expect?"

She smirked. "A bachelor pad."

H chuckled. "Am I that stereotypical, M?"

"Just a bit. Where'd you get the paintings?"

"Didn't get them anywhere."

Her jaw dropped. "You mean you...you painted them yourself?"

He just nodded. She took them in again, this time in more detail. "They're...beautiful. Where did you learn that?"

"We were all somebody before this job," H said softly. "I was someone who liked to paint."

"Do you still do it?"

"Sometimes."

She bit her lip to stop a dopey smile. She was glad he couldn't see it. It warmed her through and through to know this about him. The bleeding finally stopped and she found another device, one she was familiar with, and held the wand over his skin. The wound gradually closed as his skin reknitted itself until it appeared perfectly smooth again. She ran her fingertips over the spot to confirm it.

And he shivered.

M grinned. "Are you ticklish, Agent H?"

"No," he said too quickly.

She giggled and dragged her fingers down his spine. He did a hilarious little squirming dance. "Gah! Stop it!"

She giggled harder and hopped down from the counter. "Where do you keep your shirts?"

"Dresser, to the right," he muttered, blushing furiously, but she could also see him trying not to smile. She returned to his room with another crisp, white shirt and suit jacket. Once more, he reached for it, but she stopped him, her voice a little soft.

"Allow me."

He eyed her, but nodded nonetheless. She unfolded the shirt from its packaging and helped him into it, doing the sleeves while he tucked the ends into his slacks. She felt his gaze on her, but it wasn't accusatory or awkward. He was just looking at her, curiously, as if trying to figure her out. She left her expression calm and unreadable. He handed her the tie and she looped it over his neck below the collar, tying it in smooth, practiced movements. By the time she tightened the knot, he was smiling a little.

"You're not so bad, you know," he told her. "For a rookie."

"You're not so bad, you know," she said. "For a lout."

He grinned then, saying nothing. She tugged on his tie until he stooped down to her height. She rested her forehead against his and smiled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

He searched her gaze for a moment and then answered sincerely. "You're welcome."

M hopped back up on the counter and stole an apple, biting into it. "So is there anything to eat around this joint or what?"

"Hmm, how does Chinese sound?"

Her stomach growled and she groaned in delight. "Perfect."

He walked over to the oven, hit some buttons, and about thirty seconds later when he opened it, there was an entire full course meal inside. She really did love alien tech sometimes. He handed her a carton of rice and then brought everything over, which included egg rolls, beef Lo Mein, orange chicken, and shrimp in lobster sauce. She demolished the Lo Mein while he went after the chicken. He poured them both some lemonade from the fridge and they ate in companionable silence.

"This job," he said after a while. "It never gets any easier, but you do learn the tricks eventually."

"And what are the tricks?"

"Most important one is to forget everything you know. Look at everything with fresh eyes. I think given time that you will be very good at that part."

She eyed him. "You just said something nice to me."

"I'm a very nice person," he scoffed. "Everyone thinks so."

M chuckled. "If you say so."

"I am," he insisted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I open doors and pull out chairs. I like dogs. I let someone else have the last slice of pizza."

"My God," she deadpanned. "You're a regular saint."

"Hey, you could learn a thing or two from me," he sniffed. "Between the two of us, you're even more closed off than I am."

"I am not."

"Fine," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Tell me something about you. Something real. Something that would not be in your file."

He leaned his chin on one hand and lifted his eyebrows expectantly. She met his cool gaze with her own, debating on if she wanted to play his game. "I went to school for ballet."

He stared at her. "Ballet?"

"Ballet," she confirmed.

"You," he said seriously. "Were a ballet dancer."

"Yes, I was."

He dragged his gaze over her. "Picturing you in a cute little tutu is the most disturbing thing I have seen tonight."

She threw her napkin at him. He ducked and grinned at her. "Were you any good?"

"I was amazing," she said.

"Hmm," he said as he reached for a peach out of the bowl behind her. "Now how do I know you're telling the truth?"

She smirked up at him and purposely didn't move out of the way. On the counter, they were closer to the same height, which was a rare advantage for her. She could see him more clearly, like the stubble that had just barely begun to grow and the faint freckles on his forehead. He seemed to notice that she didn't move, and took it as a challenge of sorts. Going after the fruit led him to stand right between her knees, and it would be the closest they'd ever been to each other thus far.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me," she murmured.

His bicep brushed her side as he grabbed the peach from the bowl and she could smell his cologne from so close. His waist brushed the inside of her knees and a little odd thrill went through her then. He stared into her eyes, unflinching, and a faint playful smirk tugged at his lips.

"Do you trust me, Agent M?"

He bit into the peach and chewed, patiently waiting on her answer. She plucked it from his hand and bit down on the other side before handing it back to him. "I do now."

Their stalemate continued for a long moment, both smiling and saying nothing, purposely waiting to see who might break first. Agent H reached up and sucked some of the peach's juice from his thumb, and Agent M's heart did the Lambada inside her chest.

Then her cell phone rang and ruined everything.

She tried not to sigh as she reached into her pocket and answered it. Maybe next time.

Someone rescue me from this movie because it’s not even out yet and I can’t stop shipping these two.

#men in black international #men in black #thorkyrie #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #men in black: international #au

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