#And it doesn’t even occur to them that having secret exchanges of any kind while in the middle of a conversation is strange at first

[effloradox]

Oh that Thomas request with a forehead kiss was so cute. Could I pretty please request one where the reader and thomas start a relationship as ghosts and are super cute together. But most of the other ghosts just don't get it? They catch them holding hands or cuddling and the other ghosts just tease them until they finally realise how good thomas and the reader are for each other - 🌸 anon

don’t let the dreamer get lonely

This was such a cute request!! I hope you like it <3

Thomas Thorne x Ghost!Reader

You would think that after knowing someone for almost a decade that your fellow ghosts would be more observant to changes in your daily behaviour. Part of you is convinced that they have noticed and are just messing with you but deep down you know that most of them don't have the tact to do such a thing, especially Pat and Kitty. It can't be hard to miss all the adoring looks Thomas sends you, or spot the two of you when you go for your daily stroll to the lake for a moment of shared peace but the true nature of your relationship seems to have eluded most of your acquaintances.

The ones who know have been fairly upfront about possessing such information, you probably shouldn't have been overly surprised that Julian had been the first to work it out. Whilst you'd initially written the disgraced politician off as a crude fool, he didn't get to be as successful as he was without the eye for detail he obviously possesses. He'd been surprisingly happy to keep your little secret as long as it benefitted him every so often and to keep some semblance of normality you didn’t mind occasionally doing his bidding.

It’s not that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret per-se, it’s just been an enjoyable experience running around like teenagers in love. Thomas had been so bashful in the first few years when approached with any level of physical affection that it had taken months for him to even ask to hold your hand. Dating and courting rituals have changed so drastically since Thomas was alive that you knew the process of going from friends to dating would take a while but it had to move at a pace you were both completely comfortable with.

It doesn’t help that most of your fellow ghosts are quick to tease you and Thomas if you’re seen so much as holding hands. You’ve had more than one argument with Fanny over the implications that come with holding hands, since she can’t imagine a world where doing so without wedding rings is anything less than a cardinal sin. It’s almost fun to wave your entwined hands in front of her in the beginning, just to take delight in her mortified reactions.

It’s only when Pat almost walks in on a private moment that the cat is finally out of the bag about the two of you. He’d been on his way to his room when he’d overheard a loud laugh from one of the drawing rooms, immediately attracting his attention. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, not really, but it wasn’t hard to recognise your laugh and he wanted to know the cause of it. It’s only when he hears a quiet exchanging of words that it occurs to him that this isn’t the kind of conversation he can just walk into.

“You know, I think you were sent for me.” The way you speak is soft, like you're afraid speaking any louder would break whatever bubble you've found yourself in and it peaks the scoutmaster’s curiosity.

“You flatter me with your words.” Pat isn't particularly surprised to find out that Thomas was the source of your joy, the two of you are very close after all. But he's never heard you speak to anyone like that and he can't help his curiosity so the scoutmaster inches closer to the half-open door so he can continue listening.

“I'm serious Thomas.” The room goes quiet and Pat is almost afraid that the two of you know he's there and that’s why you've stopped talking. It's only when Thomas speaks encouragingly to you that he stops worrying about being caught.

“Go on my darling.”

“I remember when I was a kid I saw a shooting star on a camping trip to the lakes. My parents told me that I should make a wish and if no one else wished on that star then it would come true. Silly really, hundreds of people must have seen it, but when I wished and they told me it would come true I believed them.”

“And what did you wish for?”

“True love. It took a while, but I'm so glad you're my wish come true.”

“Your words put my poetry to shame my love.”

It's only when Pat hears a noise from somewhere in the house that he comes back to himself. He bolts away from the room, heading to where most of the other ghosts had congregated for Lady Button's etiquette lesson. Even Allison had joined for this lesson, mainly because Kitty refused to leave her alone about it. In his mind, Pat has an eloquent way of explaining what he's just found out but it all goes out the window as soon as everyone's eyes are on him.

“Thomas and (Y/N) are dating!” The room explodes into a series of confused and surprised exclamations, with only two ghosts remaining silent. Allison is the only person to notice that the politician sitting across from her has not changed his facial expression since before Pat ran in. If anything, Julian almost seemed bored by the revelation.

“Julian, you don't look surprised?” The ghost in question crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back against the couch he's resting on.

“Well they've been pretty obvious about it, if you ask me. I worked it out months ago.” The politician's expression settles into a smug smile as finishes speaking. Alison can't resist the urge to roll her eyes at his smugness, not all that surprised that he’s kept the information to himself. She doesn’t doubt that he’s used that information for personal gain either.

The other ghost that remained silent has still not spoken. Alison knows how close you and the Captain are, so it's more surprising that he hasn’t reacted to the idea of you secretly dating one of the other ghosts right under his nose.

“Cap?” The ghost in question seems to come back to himself at Alison’s gentle prodding, straightening up and clearing his throat. A hush falls over the room as the Captain speaks.

“He came to me about a year ago asking me for my blessing for him to begin dating (Y/N). Said it wouldn't feel right if he didn't ask the closest thing she has to a father figure. I of course said yes once he made his intentions clear, and they seem to be very happy.” At the news of the couple receiving the Captain’s blessing, most of the other ghosts seem to settle into the news, murmuring compliments about the two ghosts.

“I always thought they’d be sweet together. Just thought Thomas was too reserved to ever make a move.” Julian laughs at that, redirecting the attention of everyone in the room back to him.

“He looks at her like she hung the bloody moon. I dread to think of how much poetry he’s written about her.” Alison lets out an involuntary groan at the idea.

“As long as he doesn’t subject us to it at his next poetry lesson he can be as poetic as he wants.”

In the days that follow it becomes apparent to all the residents of Button House just how in love the newly revealed couple are. The most surprising thing to them is how it took them all so long to notice. Subtlety is not in Thomas’ nature, and Julian was correct in saying that he looks at his partner like she hung the moon. It’s sweet really, and the others make sure to start giving you space to be alone together.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and They’re- Oh Crap They’re Barbatos’ Kid!

This is the second part of that one request I answered for Dia and Barb’s possible kids. Sorry this took so long! Writer’s block, y’know? Anyhoo~ enjoy, everyone!

This story didn’t start on the first day of the exchange program, it started five days before in Barbatos’ room at three in the morning with the poor butler waking up in a cold sweat.

Oh dear, it appeared the exchange program would be up in a bit of a tizzy. He had… a child? Oh my… Barbatos hoped the young master wouldn’t be too miffed about the student not being a totally normal human.

On the day of the exchange program, Barbatos insisted he had to be present for the event, he carefully pushed a cushioned sofa in the drop zone before opening the portal. The child fell right out of the sky and landed perfectly on the couch, they were already wearing a helmet and looked quite shocked by the cushioned fall.

Well, it was a big shock to the assembled crowd, but the child gave everyone a lopsided smile and removed their helmet.

“So, I assume I’m here for the exchange program?”

Dadbatos

Well, this child was incredibly… what was the word the kids were using? chill? They were quite chill considering the situation, and was surprisingly prepared for the sudden drop into hell.

“Oh, I had a dream that this was going to happen, and I dream about the future n’stuff. I thought I’d come prepared.” “Ah, that’s very sensible.”

Diavolo recovered quickly from his shock and was positively delighted to meet this little munchkin. He insisted that they had to stay with their dad.

MC was polite, if not a bit overly calm about a lot of things. They didn’t run off to start trouble, and they didn’t seem very impressed by the Devildom itself. It was sort of like this child had a very low maximum level of excitement. Barbatos was glad his child wasn’t some little hellraiser.

He was never a child himself, so he’s a bit clueless about what children actually enjoy. Here child, have a… have an old torture weapon. Don’t use it on anyone who doesn’t deserve it :)

(I’m kidding, Barbatos is too responsible to give one of his instruments of torture to a child. That’s for when they’re older.)

“MC,” Barbatos knocked on his child’s door. “Have you done your homework?”

MC answered the door with a grin on their face. “Yep, done this week’s and next week’s. I’m getting a head start on the potions project due next week.”

Barbatos almost breathed a small sigh of relief. Thank the stars his child was responsible, it already took a big chunk of his energy to make sure Diavolo didn’t get distracted from his paperwork. Though, his stress levels did rise a tad when he got a glimpse at the mess in MC’s room.

“Are you going to clean that?”

“Nah,” MC shrugged. “It’s whatever. I know where everything is and nothing’s a fall risk. See you at dinner, father.”

And with that, MC shut the door. Well… no child was perfect.

As much as MC’s lack of cleanliness bothers Barbatos, he knows his kid isn’t being maliciously lazy, just for the love of the Demon King please stop leaving cups on the coffee tables without a coaster!

Oh yeah, Luke has a big sib. Sorry- little sib, because Luke isn’t some chihuahua child, he’s a totally mature grown-up Angel.

Barbatos is the type of father who will let his child go off and have whatever kind of fun they want as long as they don’t slack on their important duties.

Barbs also has a goddamn torture dungeon so we here at Stupid Headcanons inc. do NOT recommend trying to eat MC. Doing so may result in you wishing you were dead.

Don’t fuck with the butler.

Lucifer

…out of literally everyone in the room, the last person Lucifer expected to have a secret scandal baby… had a scandal baby. Damn.

At least the human wouldn’t have to live with him and his brothers. The last thing Lucifer wanted was for Barbatos to be even more aware of the chaos that went down in that house every single day.

MC and Lucifer have a healthy level of respect for one another, but Lucifer just can’t shake the feeling that this kid is messing with him somehow.

Just, little things… MC offering him fruit and loudly assuring him that it was just blackberries and nothing poisonous, asking if the RAD uniform suits his tastes, proclaiming that the dirt was high quality-

SOMEONE TOLD MC ABOUT LUCIFER’S FIRST VISIT TO THE DEVILDOM!

MC wasn’t exactly visibly goading him, they said everything with an innocent smile on their face.

When MC starts getting nosy with the attic, he’s not terribly sure how to deal with it. He was going up against a child that could at least partially tell the future. After the first time Lucifer told them to scram, they never went back to the steps… at least not when Lucifer was there to guard it…

After everything goes down, Lucifer is glad that MC wasn’t hurt or anything. He’d come to like the child and it’d be awful to lose the only person who could get his more hyperactive brothers to calm down.

Mammon

Mammon wasn’t present for the meeting, but when he was informed later, the news was met with an eloquent: “the fuck? Huh, wild.”

He isn’t too interested in MC at first. At least until the little runt saved him from getting busted for skipping class. Mammon was just eating his lunch in the courtyard when MC passed by and calmly told him that if he skipped class he should not hang out in the west staircase because Lucifer was going to walk down those steps during third period.

At first Mammon tried to brush off the warning, but ended up listening to the kid anyway, and what do ya know! He didn’t get caught by Lucifer!

That’s when it clicked that MC could see the future, right? Right?! Ya know what Mammon could use that for?! Right?!

Gambling! Scams! Schemes! General shennaniganery!

MC wasn’t terribly enthused about the entire situation, so they may have messed with Mammon a little. Just a bit.

It’s not like Mammon ever listened when MC told him to cut his losses and leave the casino anyway 🙄

Leviathan

First reaction? Thank the anime gods that there wouldn’t be another normie living in the house with him…

Reaction upon hearing that the MC was Barb’s kid? Really? Barbatos? Wow… well, to be fair Levi totally understood why someone would be attracted to Barbatos, I mean, Levi’s watched plenty of anime involving butlers, but Barbatos actually having a living breathing child? Damn.

But still, Levi wasn’t going to hang out with some normie brat. He had better and nerdier things to devote his time to.

Whenever MC visited, Levi was up in his room. But once MC decided to poke their head in the door while Levi was in the middle of gamer raging.

They calmly sat Levi down and explained to him that he could be upset about whatever happened in his game, but lashing out wasn’t going to fix anything or make him better at the actual game.

…damn it… they were right.

Slowly but surely Levi and MC built up a friendship, and the brothers rejoiced at the lack of rage related Lotan summons.

Satan

Out of everything Satan could have possibly expected from the second exchange student, this was not one of them.

Satan began to wonder exactly how MC’s powers worked, he didn’t exactly have any concrete data to compare them to because Barbatos was so mysterious

Hm, how very interesting. Satan decided that it was up to him to satiate his own curiosity and began to study MC. To be honest, MC wasn’t being terribly interesting.

They were a pretty normal kid all things considered. MC went to class, made friends, did their work, very very normal. Well, except for the fact that they seemed to dodge practically every unfortunate thing that could have happened to them.

They’d stop at the perfect time to avoid something accidentally being spilled on them, they always had pencils ready, and they always seemed to know exactly when a teacher was coming… mad sus.

Satan eventually confronted MC about this, and they just shrugged and explained that they tend to dream about what was most likely to happen the next day and would adjust their actions accordingly.

It may have been anticlimactic, but MC did inform Satan that there would be a cat in the courtyard in fifteen minutes.

HE NEEDED TO GO!

Asmodeus

Asmo had genuinely been looking forward to the new exchange program, he was excited to have a new face around the house to shake things up! He loves his dear brothers but spending thousands of years with them makes their shenanigans become a bit… well, a bit boring.

But my oh my, the new face was being obscured by that tacky bicycle helmet… the new face looked an awful lot like Barbatos…

Once Asmo registered what was going on, he was positively enchanted with the little half human. They were just so cute! They looked like a baby Barbatos with those adorably chubby cheeks!

Oh Barbatos~ he just had to let Asmo babysit!

When Asmo managed to sweep MC away for a fun day with shifty uncle Solomon, he was reminded of all the shenanigans that he, Barbatos, and Solomon used to get up to.

*sigh, Barbie was always so busy… no time for a fun night of torture, chaos, and revelry

Anyhoodles~ MC was always such a relaxed little thing. They let Asmo vent whenever any awful tragedies occur, like when Asmo finds a sweater that isn’t in his size… *sniffle*

Beelzebub

A child of Barbatos? The best cook in the three realms Barbatos?! …hey kid want to hang out with cool uncle Beel?

Beel tried everything in his power to get MC to make him food. I mean, the genetic disposition for making good food has to have been passed down from father to child!

When MC finally made Beel food, he was ecstatic!

…Until the food touched Beel’s tongue and he realized it wasn’t good, it was just… okay. Average. Passable.

Aw man… but the kid looked so excited to have made something for Beel…

Beel really hammed up his reaction to make MC feel better. Beel was like “Wow. So good. Amazing.” “Thanks Beel.”

Very sweet child, they don’t mind being used in place as a dumbell.

Belphegor

Damn, and here Belphie was, thinking Barbatos has standards. Apparently not!

When MC went and walked up the attic steps, Belphie was almost bouncing on his toes in anticipation. This human had been a pain in the rear to call up, so he was excited to finally get a good look at them. And lo and behold, a half demon child of Lord Diavolo’s butler.

MC grinned and greeted Belphie first, using his name and asking why the Avatar of Sloth was stuck up in the attic of his own home when he was supposed to be in the human world. Belphie was flabbergasted and didn’t exactly know how to respond.

He came up with a new plan quickly. Belphie didn’t exactly know how this kid’s powers worked, so he’d continue with trying to trick them into opening the attic door. Allowing Belphie to end their miserable little life and thus ruining the exchange program.

The child continued to visit Belphie up in the attic, relaying the events of what was going on, and Belphie continued to play the part of prisoner. Until one day in particular…

MC appeared in front of the door, looking a tad more unkempt than normal, they weren’t smiling their usual carefree smile either. Their eyes bore holes into Belphegor’s skull as they flared at him.

“How long have you been planning on killing me?”

MC had seen the future where they died at Belphie’s hand, and they sure as hell were not going to let him out of the attic after that. Though, they did tell Belphie about Lilith’s true fate before they left, and assured Belphie they had no reason to lie to him about something he wasn’t directly involved in.

So, Belphie did get let out of the attic eventually, and even though MC smiled and welcomed him back all the same, there would always a barrier between the two. Broken trust wasn’t easy to mend, after all.

[olderthannetfic]

Do you know what the origin of the "sold to One Direction" thing is? I know it's a common trope (or was), but, I have no idea where I first heard of it, where I learned it was a thing. How do weird tropes like that get started, anyway? Why do some concepts take off and become huge parts of a particular fandom, but others don't? (And does this particular premise show up in other RPF contexts as much?)

--

tl;dr - Wattpad circa 2013, probably

--

I'm only familiar with that from doing Wattpad research. I don't think it's a major RPF thing, at least not under that exact name. Horny f!sub is kind of the Wattpad way, so a lot of the popular tropes there make sense from that perspective. I've definitely seen plenty of badtouch sexy slave/kidnapping victim/stalk-ee stuff with BTS and other music groups. But maybe somebody reading has more specific 1D history knowledge?

As for why one thing takes off and another doesn't, the big answer is:

Historical accident

We can look for patterns, sure, but a lot of it is ultimately survivorship bias. That's the thing where we look at what's remaining (successful companies, popular fic tropes), and we assume they have some special property that made them survivors and then extrapolate from that. But maybe it's coincidence, or maybe it's a different type of causality than the one we're looking at.

For example, a trope in a popular fandom will spread farther faster than a trope in a dinky little fandom, so maybe fandom size is what matters and not the nature of the trope. Most analyses assume it's the trope itself that matters.

On an individual basis, many specific tropes get popularized by a particular famous author or fic that other people imitate. Some get popularized by a fanworks exchange or fest. (That's how 5 Times fic spread.) But why do they stick around long term? Why do they gain traction elsewhere?

Aside from random chance, it's probably something to do with broad applicability and easy entry points.

So, for example, the show The Sentinel doesn't actually have Guides as such, but the AU added an official role for the other dude to make the two of them super destined. Sentinel AUs took off across a ton of fandoms. (Less so these days, but I've even seen them in BTS, so they're definitely not gone.) The AU version is basically soulmates + potentially codified top/bottom roles + superpowers. People like fantasy AUs. They like frameworks to fit their ship into. The trope isn't highly specific otherwise, so it can be tacked onto many settings, both real world and sff. It fits two-person ships easily, which is most popular ships. One can do some worldbuilding about whether there's One True Guide for a given Sentinel or whether the bond is more a matter of choice. Guides might be equal in numbers/prestige/public visibility to Sentinels or not. The existence of all this can be openly known by everybody or a secret like in the show.

A/B/O has a similar level of "proof my ship belongs together" stuff with room to play around with worldbuilding. It also overlaps heavily with prior popular tropes people like for pretty obvious horny reasons. Same with plenty of tropes. They're often a slight remix of already popular stuff.

Sense8 AUs, however, never really took off as a thing. I saw some fans sadfacing about this, but in this case, I think we could have predicted it. Why? Simple: the concept involves OT8, and that's not going to apply to most people's fandoms unless they happen to like a kpop group or a superhero team with 8 people. The 8 also don't have specific roles that would make this simpler to write. If you're going for less OT8 and more of a complicated network of relationships, that's a complicated story to write and it has much less of a template to work from. So low applicability + high barrier to entry.

Hogwarts AUs, on the other hand, are super popular. Why? My guess is that the biggest reason is that a million bajillion times more people know Harry Potter than know Sense8. Hogwarts also has some canned roles that are more obvious: which house is your Fave? Shit that could be in a clickbait-y personality quiz is easier to write fic about than something that requires you to make up everything yourself. But also, four houses are easy to keep track of in a way that all those Myers-Briggs types are not. Add too much mandatory complexity, and it gets too confusing.

--

If I had to guess about the popularity of Sold To One Direction, I'd say a lot of it is due to the problem of getting Mary Sue or y/n into the room with them. Why is she there? This fic concept provides the answer in one quick title or tag. Sexy slavefic and dubcon have had broad appeal since forever. There's room to go really dark or fluffier. Some of the fics are nothing but ravishment fantasies, while others are more abuse recovery stories (where 1D are better than whatever came before).

I don't think there's some simple answer for why this specific thing and not a closely related trope became such a known trope in 1D. Probably, if some BNF had posted a ravishment fantasy with a different pithy title at just the right time, some adjacent trope would be big instead.

As for why I've heard of this trope, it's absolutely due to 1D being a fucking massive fandom such that its popular tropes occur very frequently in a sample of Wattpad writing of the right eras. It definitely owes its lulzy memeticness to fandom size: lots of people care enough about 1D and 1D fic to know what the trends are and make jokes about them.

Here's Huffpo being dicks about 1D slavefic back in 2013. They don't mention the exact phrasing though. Here's a pretty standard specimen from 2013-14.

I presume this was also a big thing on Quizilla (RIP) and I see extant examples on Quotev. Sadly, these and Wattpad are fucking hard to study, and a lot of the meta-writing types stick to AO3, so I don't see as many good analyses of this part of fandom.

Any 1D fans want to weigh in?

[weasleyswizardpleases]

Low Profile (reader x fred and george)

Summary: You and your best friends find yourself entangled in a secret polyamorous love affair, right under their family’s noses.

Warnings/Notes: Cw language, kissing (but no sex of any kind), family not accepting poly/queer relationship, bruising. This is for the wonderful and talented @lunalovecroft​’s 2.7k trope-inspired writing challenge! It’s also part of my loose series of fics that take place over the summer when y/n stays at the Weasleys’ house. No twincest- v shaped poly relationship. Here’s my masterlist if you want more! Enjoy!

Ever since you and Fred hooked up the first night of the summer, you’ve been joined at the hip even more than usual, and since George is always with Fred and usually with you, he had to be told once it was clear that you and Fred were gonna be more than a one night stand. You were a bit sad, knowing that it’d probably make him feel left out, in a way. You noticed that George looked a bit miffed when the two of you told him you were dating, in the loosest sense of the word. 

“What’s the matter, you jealous Georgie?” you tease, putting your hand on his knee flamboyantly. He blushes and you and Fred exchange a look.

“Oh my god, you actually are, aren’t you?” Fred asks, half-mocking. For once, George seems to be at a loss for words. He looks quite uncertain and a bit sad. You figure that you may as well break the tension and speak honestly; it’s more important to you to be frank and maintain your friendship than anything else. You clear your throat.

“George, honestly, if you’d been there instead of Fred that night, I’d probably have hooked up with you, too. We’ll all still be friends. That’s why we’re telling you, so we’re not keeping secrets,” you say, trying to goad him into speaking. He shakes his discomfort off and begins.

“Oh, I knew this would happen! We used to just be friends before the two of you started making eyes at each other all the time. Now I’ll barely be able to talk to the two of you- my two best friends, mind you- without all this lovey dovey shit. What an absolute nightmare!”

You open your mouth to speak, but George barrels on, looking at Fred this time.

“And you, some brother you are. You know how I feel about Y/N, I thought we had an agreement to keep it platonic all around?”

“It’s not my fault they’re interested in me!”

“George, I said I would have kissed you that night too! Actually, that’s what I’ve been trying to say to both of you. I’ve got feelings for you, both of you.”

They stop bickering and turn to look at you, turning the idea over in their minds.

“What are you saying?” asks Fred, looking a bit hurt.

“I’m saying,” you take a deep breath, “that I’ve never been better friends with one of you than the other. We do everything together. I don’t want that to change. Besides, you two are identical. Did you think your birthmark was that big of a selling point, Freddie? Of course I think you’re both good-looking, look in the mirror for goodness’ sake!”

They blink at you, then turn away to confer with one another in whispers. You tap your foot impatiently, but when they turn around, they’re beaming.

“So what you’re saying is you’d be fine with us sharing you?” George asks.

“More than fine. I’d be absolutely chuffed,” you say, returning their smiles.

“It’s settled, then,” Fred says, and plants a kiss on the top of your head. You look up at George permissively, and he puts his arm around you and gives you a squeeze.

“One thing, though. Mum and Dad can’t know. Mum especially. She’s not the most open-minded when it comes to this stuff. Especially with us. At least, I doubt she is,” Fred says.

“Yeah, funnily enough it never occurred to me to ask what she’d do if my twin brother and I started a poly fling with our best friend who also lives with us and sleeps in our bedroom, but if I had to guess, I don’t think she’d approve,” George adds, smirking.

“That’s ok. We have a pretty good track record when it comes to keeping secrets,” you say, a mischievous glimmer in your eye.

That evening, you’re helping Molly fold linens when she steps away for a moment to take the kettle off. You feel four hands slip around you from behind and soon you’re pulled into a kiss, Fred on your left, kissing you hard on the neck and collarbone, and George kissing your lips, taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. You kiss them passionately but push them away after a second, regaining your composure.

“Not here!” you hiss, grinning. They exchange a cheeky glance and kiss you on each cheek before scurrying back to their room, giggling. You shake your head and turn back to folding sheets, just as Mrs. Weasley returns.

“My, my dear, that’s quite a bruise you’ve got there, what happened?” Mrs. Weasley clucks, gesturing to your collarbone where you’re surprised to see a dark, newly formed hickey.

“Oh, pickup quidditch match. I’m not very good, I’m afraid,” you say, the rush of the small lie filling you with butterflies.

“Well now, we are wizards after all. We can’t have you running about looking as if you’ve been sleeping under the whomping willow,” she says cheerfully. She extracts her wand and uses a quick healing spell on the spot, which fades quickly. You wonder if she really doesn’t recognize the bruise as a hickey, but you shrug. The twins have certainly gotten away with worse under this roof.

That night, you and the twins are in the kitchen having a midnight snack. The rest of the house is quiet. You’re sitting on the countertop, helping yourself to a biscuit, and George is leaning on the counter beside you. You feed him a little bite and he licks the crumbs from your fingers playfully. Fred is rummaging through the fridge across the room, and George peers into the fridge nosily. Something piques his interest, and he heads over, whispering to his brother indistinctly. You catch them giggling, and can hear snatches of their conversation. They appear to be working on something as they chat eagerly.

“Take the…”

“... and the… yes! Use a…”

“... that’s just bad…”

“...dare you…”

You hear the familiar sound of compressed air decompressing, and Fred whirls around with a pie tin full of whipped cream in his hand, grinning devilishly.

“No!” you whisper-scream, nearly falling off the countertop, but you’re not fast enough. Fred flops the tin into your face with a splat, and George laughs so hard he winds up on the ground kicking. You lick the cream from your lips, hungry for revenge.

You know Fred is secretly quite vain about his hair, and you waste no time sliding off the countertop and wrapping him up in a hug from behind. He suspects your ulterior motives immediately, but it’s too late for him to escape.

“Oh darling, give me a hug my sweet,” you say, making exaggerated kissy noises while burying your pie covered face in his nice clean hair. He flails about, and you tickle his ribs defensively, causing him to buckle. You fall to the ground with him, giggling and shoving at one another. Just as George joins in, trying to drag you off of his brother, kissing you all over as he tugs on your legs, you hear a floorboard creak. 

Ginny, whose room is closest to the kitchen, stands at the foot of the stairs, gaping at you. You’re sure she saw the kissing, and, well, the whole situation does look a bit… familiar. You whack George on the head and nod in Ginny’s direction.

“Oh, hello Ginny,” Fred says, disentangling himself from his situation beneath you.

“Hello, big brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” George says, surprise straining his voice.

“Hello, other brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” you say uncertainly, standing up and wiping your face off with a tea towel.

“Hello, Y/N,” she says. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know,” she says, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Everyone speaks in hushed tones once again, having remembered that it is indeed the middle of the night. She nods curtly and scampers back upstairs, smiling cheekily.

“Did she see?” George whispers.

“Oh, she saw,” you assure him.

“But she wouldn’t say anything, right?” Fred asks.

“Surely not,” his brother replies nervously. 

“But if she does…” 

“We’re toast. No way mum believes us over her.”

“You guys are being too paranoid. Ginny isn’t a snitch like Ron and Percy, she wouldn’t blab on us for a bit of… roughhousing,” you say hopefully. The twins agree, and you help each other get cleaned up, George dabbing your face clean with a wet towel, giving you gentle kisses in between. 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. As far as you know, Ginny doesn’t say anything about what she saw, and life in the burrow goes on as usual. In the mornings, you and Hermione read quietly in the living room over tea. She reads the paper, you look at the comics, every once in a while stopping to remark on a thought you’ve had. 

Then George wakes up. He’s quiet in the mornings, a bit slow, although not very grumpy. Then Molly gets up and usually whips up some sort of breakfast, and by the times everyone’s up you all gather round the long table and eat together. Then, if you’re lucky, you run off outside or to a neighbor's house or abscond to the attic with Fred and George, away from prying eyes and away from Molly’s commands. If you’re unlucky, Molly enlists at least one of you in some chores, usually out in the garden. 

The next time the three of you come close to getting caught, you’re doing just this- de-gnoming with Fred, George, and Ron when Ron gets a headache and goes inside, complaining that it’s far too hot. In reality, the day is rather mild, although the sun is bright enough that Fred and George both have pink sunburns radiating across the bridges of their noses. You flick Fred on his sunburnt cheek and he winces.

“Ow! What’s that for?!” he asks, nearly dropping a gnome right back into the grass. 

“I need your attention!”

“For what?”

“A kiss,” you reply devilishly. He obliges you and kisses you dramatically, dipping you low, holding you in his arms. “Like this, mi amore?” he asks in a silly accent.

“Lunchtime!” Molly calls from the doorway, causing Fred to drop you to the ground and George to leap in front of the two of you oddly, trying to obscure his mum’s line of sight. You brush yourself off and head for the house, hoping Mrs. Weasley didn’t see anything.

“Fred Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley says shrilly, and you all cringe. You hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Fred, did I just see you toss Y/n to the ground? That’s no way to treat a guest, especially when you’re meant to be doing housework!” You sigh deeply, relieved. “Come in, dearie, I swear, sometimes I don’t know who raised those two!” she says, putting an arm around you to guide you in the house.

[anika-ann]

Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.  

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading! 

[baku-bowl]

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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

Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart. 

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?" 

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

Or

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

Or

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

[attemptinghaikyuu]

Fake Dating: Kita

A/n: the way I want this man to give me a hug and softly kiss my forehead is unreal

G/n reader

Kita Shinsuke

Kita’s literally the nicest, you meet when you’re looking for your phone at the park and he helps you out

You had lost it and were frantically searching the place where you were almost sure was where you last had it

He spotted you running around like a maniac and his captain instinct to put things in order when they’re out of control, kicked in

Jogging over, he calmly asked what was wrong, you were hesitant at first but after realizing he genuinely just wanted to lend a hand, you relaxed and told him what had you in such a panic

He nodded and started searching, finding it five minutes later like the perfect person he is

You give him a hug to show your gratitude and exchange numbers

After that you both fall into each other’s daily lives

You actually go to the same school so you ended up seeing him more then you could’ve ever anticipated, it led to you becoming incredibly close

A friendship that you both grow to value blooms haha grow, blooms,,,like plants? Like the kind farmer Kita grows? I’ll stop now

Being friends with Kita does come with its challenges though

His whole group of friends is extremely popular, both for their looks and skills in volleyball

And being friends with him somehow ended up pushing you into a spotlight, in which people were now confessing left and right to you

You weren’t really used to it, the influx of people garnering for your attention was a lot to take in so suddenly

It was also hard to reject people, you hated the look of disappointment that people had when you turned them down

Kita, being the ever perceptive person that he is, notices your feelings about the sudden spotlight and realizes that in a sense it’s his fault please no, you’re fine, we all love you ;-;

He decides he should try and amend this, he doesn’t want you staying uncomfortable and at the very least he wants to take away some of the weight on your shoulders

That being said, he’s not sure what to do at first

It’s a tough thing because he doesn’t want to stop being friends, that’s not even an option he considers, but he knows that the people garnering for your attention won’t give up easily

Then he realizes that people would stop, if they thought it was a hopeless endeavor

And that’s how you find yourself taking a bouquet of purple flowers, as one of your closest friends pretends to ask you out in the front of the school

People are slowing down outside of the gates to watch, and even with the whole thing being staged, you find the way Kita was going about doing it all very sweet

And when you tell him yes, he gives you a smile and promises to do his best in making you happy for as long as you’re with him

Fake dating Kita is quite the experience, and it’s not something you ever thought would happen to you

Some things he does are the same as before; taking some of what your carrying if you’re having a hard time, checking to make sure you’re taking breaks when you need them, and forcing you into breaks when you refuse

However, some things are definitely different now

He walks you to all of your classes while holding your hand, after a stressful day he gives you a forehead kiss, he always shares his food if he notices you eyeing something, he’s taken to calling you nicknames, and he lets you have as many hugs from him as you want

He also smiles around you more and wow, what a blessing

Honestly, the list of sweet things he does for you now that you’re pretending to be together, is incredibly long

It rubs off on you and you instinctively start doing similar things as well!!!

Grabbing his hand when you’re walking is an automatic and you’ve started to visit his grandmother, who absolutely adores you and knows it’s staged

Except grandma Kita sees your adorable interactions and even though your fake boyfriend says he’s just doing it for your sake, she can’t help but ship it😌✌️

She tells Kita this every time he brings you up, and he tells her the same things every time

“Y/n is a wonderful person, and I’m glad you think so too. But I don’t feel that way and this is to make sure they are comfortable, me asking them on a genuine date will only ruin that, as that was the cause of their discomfort to begin with.”

And he really doesn’t have feelings for you, so it really wouldn’t make sense to try anything

Haha… or he didn’t 😳

Because maybe he had fallen into this deeper then expected

It was a small interaction, one that had happened between the two of you a couple times, so he’s not completely sure why it was so different this time

But you were laughing and had given his hand a small squeeze, assuring him all of the teasing you were doing was a joke, it was an interaction he shouldn’t have felt so warm from considering the previous times it had occurred

Yet he did, and the smile that was on his face wasn’t stopping anytime soon because all of a sudden he was so lost in that laugh and the silly smile you gave him so freely

He thinks people should be charged for every smile you give them when it’s that warm and bright and all around perfect

He wants to hear you call out “Shin!” when you spot him in the halls and when you jog over, he wants to wrap you in a hug and hold you for however long you’ll let him

He wasn’t aware he wanted to kiss you until you leaned over him to grab a pencil while studying together, and he found he was inches away from your face, stuck staring at your lips

You were going to kill him

Of course he doesn’t want to throw his feelings at you and make it seem like he had asked you to fake date him just for his own selfish desires, but he also knew it wasn’t fair to himself to hold the way he was now feeling inside

It wouldn’t be good for him or you if he kept it a secret

You’re walking to a cafe, hand in hand, when he decides to talk about the way he’s been feeling

He asks you to stop and reluctantly let’s go of your hand, giving you space just in case you needed it

“I need to be honest.” He’s prepared for any answer you might give him, but he selfishly hopes you give him one answer in particular

“I would like to date you. Not pretend or act like what I’m doing means nothing to me. You mean more to me than I can express and I need you to know that.”

“If you don’t feel the same, please know it’s alright. Don’t feel guilty about not returning my feelings, I’m lucky to be your friend and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

Kita watches your shocked face, looking calm on the outside, feeling nervous like he’s rarely ever felt before on the inside

He’s glad it goes from surprise to excitement

“Well the only thing I’m gonna feel guilty about, now that you’re my boyfriend~ is keeping your grandma waiting so long.”

He finds himself exasperated and endeared at that and he wouldn’t have it any other way

Smile spreading as you grab his hand, he tells you one last thing

“I love you, goofball.”

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Victor - NSFW abc headcanons (REMASTERED)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Warnings: Explit sexual content (GN READER)

it's what I posted a while ago, but better - I changed some things, I deleted some thing and wrote new. I think it's much better now

A = Aftercare (What they are after sex?)

Victor is a man that has his values straight

You are the most important part of his life (even if he sometimes struggles to shop it) and he will do anything for you… and only for you

Other people don’t matter. He only takes what he wants and leaves.

But you - his sweetest, dearest, little love… can ask anything and everything (well, almost - see N).

You crave massages? He will buy the most luxurious oils on the market, might even take a course to perfect his skills to give you more pleasure

Want to take a bath? He will have a bathtub installed if he doesn’t have one already

Pillowtalk, kissing, snuggling, another round? No need to say it twice. He leaves to please you

When it comes to him, he likes to pull you close and tell you all the things he has no courage to say at any other time

Leave no space for misunderstanding in the department of his unconditional, boundless, eternal love and devotion for you

Tell you just how happy he is to have you and how everything is worthless in comparison to you

After he makes sure you’ve been pleasured throughly already, he will want to share a shower

And make no mistake - he will wash you. You can wash him too, if you want, but taking care of that pretty body of yours is his responsibility

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his waist

It wasn’t easy to get that V shaped body and he is extremely proud of this accomplishment…

Especially when he sees your hungry gaze roaming his torso up and down

And you… He couldn’t possibly choose one part

Beautiful legs, rounded butt, soft abdomen and that gorgeous, gorgeous smile

Yeah…

No…

That would be your thighs when it comes to the sexual aspect

You have such a delicate skin there. So suckable. Kissable. More plush than any pillow could ever be

He feels so secure and at ease when they squeeze around his head as you ride his face.

The sound of his hips slapping against them - heavenly

Not much can make him calmer than your lovely, plump thighs

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

It should come (hihihi) as no surprise that he loves to spill inside

It’s so intimate… Bonding…

Doesn’t really like to cum onto you for reasons he himself doesn’t really understand

It just feels… somewhat degrading? And he doesn’t like it that way?

Then again cuming into your mouth is a strong YES. Maybe it’s because of how enthusiastically you take him in

How you collect all the spill from your chin and lick it off your fingers like it was some kind of delicious delicacy

That sight makes him hard all over again…

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory - a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a folder of your photos on his computer

Some of them were taken with consent… Some without you realising…

Because you were in his bed sleeping in your naked glory… And he could only stop himself the first, like 20 (?) times

He sorts them by aesthetic and cuteness/sexiness

Jacks off to them when you’re not around

Most of them are very artistic. He tries his best to make them as good as the ones he was using before you… (see J)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He slept with a few girls in college, but he saw it only as ‘taking care of his sexual needs’ - no real feelings included

He had one dedicated booty call - a girl who fell in love with him despite him saying that he only only sees her for sex

That period really allowed him to explore his sexuality

So he knows what he likes and what to do, so his partner likes it too

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Everything when he takes you from the back

He’s rather keen on yanking hair, slaping ass…

But when it comes to the person he loves - you, he likes to face each other during sex

He wants to kiss your face, neck and chest. Nuzzle his face into your abdomen while he’s going down from his height

Your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can slap his hips against your soft thighs

Or legs pressed to your sides, hands gripping your thighs

And he can’t even attempt to lie he doesn’t absolutely love when you sit on his lap… or get on top in general

Or when your thighs grip his head when you 69 on the couch while ‘watching’ a movie. Your lips sloppy around him as his tongue pleasures you with most precision and dedication

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

No goofy.

If they start to joke around, they get spanked. HARD.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Victor is a passionate swimmer, so most of his body is hairless

But he doesn’t shave his pubes. Finds it weird to be completely bare down there and the first time he had sex with a completly hairless girl, he was a bit taken aback with her baby like smoothness.

Only trims them with a ‘pubes razor’ which is his old razor that he doesn’t use for face anymore, because he got a better one from his aunt for Christmas

Carpet matches the drapes

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

No goofy.

Only love and eternal devotion.

He will caress and leave kisses all over your body. Keep you close in the warmest and most loving embrace

No dummies or idiots in bed. Only treasures and loves

Almost like he’s trying to make it up to you for his tendency to be so aloof on a daily basis

The sweet talk doesn’t stop there, but I already said everything about it in A

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man didn’t have time to waste on women when he was building his empire, so he naturally spend quite a lot of his life masturbating instead of having sex

He doesn’t really enjoy porn, though. It’s too cartoonish for him. He much prefers to look through lingerie commercials or nude photoshoots - the more artistic the better

After he reunites with you, he starts to feel all that pent up sex tension and starts to jack off almost every day

Thinking about you. Looking at photos of you. Carving you with every small bit of his being

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

First of all - seeing his partner being pleasured. Either by him or by a vibrating toy plugged into them or pressed against their sensitive spots. He doesn’t even pump himself watching. He’s way too consumed with the enticing sights

Double penetration. His huge dick in one whole, dildo in another… Just thinking about it gets him going

He can’t deny himself at least some manhandling (if you consent - obv). Although he doesn’t go full on dom every time (at least with you) he seems to be unable to deny himself some hair pulling and choking... Although he almost does it lovingly? Spanking and whipping will surely also happen from time to time. Can get very rough when jealous

Also a slight daddy kink. When he hears it slip past your lips in the form of a joke - he feels some strange tingling in his groin and it’s not a venereal disease

If you sit on his lap, make a cute, helpless expression and ask daddy to play with you… It just turns him into a primal animal with no self restraint

That he kinda always seems to be

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Where nobody can hear them

Or see them

Anywhere with a stable surface really, but he needs to know you will have full privacy

Would never agree for public sex

All the sweet sounds and expressions he makes you do are his and only his to experience

M = Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

Stress, irritation, anger, hurt… Sex is a great way for him to gat this weight of his chest since he doesn’t really like to think those negative feeligs through

Or any feelings, if we’re at it

A nice butt is also a motivation, especially when it’s attached to a fine pair of legs

But both of these factors aren’t a guarantee of a turn on and even if they have that impact on him, he still will most likely not act on it

What he really struggles to control is a real attraction that reaches what’s beyond physical

A beautiful, hardworking and open-minded person is something Victor finds hard to ignore

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

No sharing

No blood play

No permanent marking

Nothing too forcefull or aggressive

No sex before assigning boundaries and exchanging preferences

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I already said In B, Victor is an oral lover

More into giving than receiving, but would never push his lover away

(you can always 69, right?)

The man is humming in pleasure as his tongue slides along your sex

Is more than willing to go for hours if only you let him

The more you moan the more intense his movements become

His main goal is to please

The secondary one is to be the best at yet another thing

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He has two base modes

One: I love you, my sweet creature - all about measured, unhurried but hard thrust. True, pure love-making

Two: Little girls don’t get a say in how daddy fucks them - you’re tearing up, sobbing, drooling and he gets even more turned on by it. Fucks harder and faster then you both believed possible. Years of engaging in sports come to show themselves

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He will participate when the occasion occurs

Might even initiate an occasion

But it’s not really sex for him. It’s a quickie

And when compared to the real love-making with you… it’s just meh

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

When it comes to taking risks, I believe I already made it clear that he isn’t too into that

If someone walked in you, it would be very upsetting for him

If you got accidentally hurt would break his heart

But experiment he would happily

New toys, new positions, new kinks… He will try anything once

Well, almost anything (see N)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

We all have our better and worst days, and this man has a whole company to run. It’s only natural for him to be tired

So usually he won’t last for more than one round. Maybe 3 on weekends

But will last a while if he sets a slower pace (see P)

On vacations however, after a few days of rest his stamina will increase dramatically

Have you seen this guy’s torso? Exactly

He has some stamina to spare

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not against, although he prefers to experiment with positions that to experiment with toys

Will probably never propose any, except when he knows his partner is into such things

If you do - Victor will do his research and find something exciting for you to enjoy

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He really is not patient enough for that

Doesn’t have time for it either

Why would he even want to? They’re unsatisfied = he’s unsatisfied (as I mentioned in K)

He sees no appeal in it. When he wants to fuck, he wants to fuck. No reason to beat around the bush

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Victor can be a bit more talkative than usual during the foreplay

Throughs some praise (a lot of it)

Tell you about his feelings (but not too much at that point)

About things that made him jealous…

A quiet Fuck may leave his lips when he enters you and when he’s about to come

In the middle of those two - he’s rather silent

Not much of a moaner

He grunts and growls a lot though. Can get a little bit loud from time

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

It was a sunny, autumn day. You were walking down the street. You’re fingers entwined. The sunlight was gracing your beautiful features so gorgeously… and he had already been yearning for so long

When you’ve finally reached the Souvenir’s door, the man is all worked up

Not that you could tell from his steely expression

But you sure got suspicious when he got all touchy feely out of the sudden

Not that you would ever mind - obviously

Feather light kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. Fingertips caressed your waist to then slide down to your hips. Then he reached for the hem of your dress…

“I love you…” he whispered in your ear

Goosebumps momentarily appeared on your skin as all the intense feelings he had been making you experience from the very day you saw him for the first time in his office travel down your spine in a form of a intense shiver

You wanted him. So bad. For so long.

And there was no hiding his feelings for you at that moment as you turned your head to face him

Soon after stomach was pressed against the kitchen counter. Your naked butt was all out on display for Victor to squeeze and spank as you squirmed and moaned under his touch

Victor didn’t take any unnecessary time to move his long, broad fingers down, to stroke your sensitive slit

He praised you for being so wet, so flushed, so eager for him

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

“I love you, too” you whispered to his ear as his arms pressed you as close to his body as possible, while you were still going back from your highs

And after that, from his lips slipped the words of the most sincere adoration… and true love

Words you would never expect to leave his beautiful, soft mouth

Matches the rest of the man

Long and thick

No curvature. Perfectly straight

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Rather average

Ha has periods when he doesn’t even think about it

And he has ones when he can’t stop thinking about it

However he doesn’t go too much either way

Z = Zzz… (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Remember what I said in S? Applies here as well

He’s a hardworking man

Simplu needs to work hard to keep his business growing and to keep his lover pleased

Then he just needs to get some rest. Don’t try to change his mind because he will

If he’s well rested however, he won’t let you sleep

Like, not a chance. You need to come at least five times. He doesn’t make the rules, sorry

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Nine]

Summary: Will Poe and the reader be reunited?

Warnings: Angst, character deaths, language, smut. TW-pregnancy, birth, infant, breastfeeding. WC—+10k

A/N-At the end.

“Rey,” At the sound of her name, Rey paused and glanced around to see Leia standing next to the Falcon, waiting. Meeting her kind eyes, she hoped Leia wasn’t going to try and convince her not to go again; she’d already told the wise General that she had to find the Wayfinder, that she needed to complete Luke’s mission and get to Exegol. Finn, Poe, Chewbacca and C3PO were already on board, waiting for her to join them; it was time to leave.

“Leia?” She stepped toward her mentor, who looked around cautiously before lowering her voice to speak to Rey.

“I need to give you something.”

Rey frowned, confused, glancing down to Leia’s empty, “What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, her eyes tired. Rey understood—she felt exhausted too. “I can’t explain it. And you must keep it to yourself until the moment is right—trust me, you’ll know when that is—if you do end up needing to,” Leia took hold of Rey’s hands, squeezing, “I’ll show you, but you must keep it tucked away no matter what.”

Seeing the seriousness in Leia’’s eyes, Rey swallowed and nodded, “Of course. I promise.” She returned the pressure to the General’s hands and watched as she reached up and pressed her fingers gently to Rey’s temple.

In a brief flash, Rey saw enough to understand.

As he was pushed roughly through the doors to an open hangar with Finn and Chewie, Poe couldn’t help but reflect on his life over the past year and a half. He’d had a lot of close calls, even been captured, but this was the first time he felt like he was going to die, as General Hux and a couple of Storm Troopers stood behind them, ready to execute Poe and his friends. He hoped Rey was able to escape, at least.

And Leia could get the news of his death to you. She would make sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. He had no regrets, no, not with you on some planet far away from all of this and free to raise the baby. He’d done everything he could, fought as hard as possible, but that didn’t mean he was guaranteed to live.

Poe tried to picture what the baby might look like, whether they got your smile, his hair. Pain shot through his broken heart that his child would grow with only pictures of him, no memories. He glanced up at Finn, eager to distract himself; he could hear Hux speaking to the Troopers and ignored them.

“What were you going to tell Rey before?”

Finn hesitated, appearing uncomfortable, “You still on that?”

“Oh,” Poe frowned at him incredulously, “Is this a bad time?” He just wanted to hear Finn admit aloud he had feelings for Rey. He could sense it between them, especially recently, and thought that they made a good pair. In another life he could see himself with them, you at his side, enjoying a late-night dinner, laughing around a table while the kids pretended to be asleep in their bedrooms.

Nodding, Finn gave Poe a wary look, “It sort of is?” Poe scoffed, shaking his head.

“So I tell you my deepest secrets but right before we’re about to die you’re locking down on yours?” Poe hadn’t just told Finn about you; after he’d confessed your existence, he hadn’t been able to stop sharing with his friend, who listened attentively as Poe described his life with you, how he’d love you since he was ten years old.

Finn blanched, and after a pause opened his mouth to respond, only shots went off behind them and they flinched. Poe expected to feel pain, or perhaps nothing if the shot was well placed, only they heard thuds behind them and instead glanced around to find Hux holding a blaster, eyes on the dead Troopers momentarily before he looked up at them.

“I’m the spy.” He claimed, a dark smirk on his twisted face, and Poe felt a rush of confused relief—he and Finn exchanged looks as Chewie groaned.

“What?” He exclaimed at the same moment Finn yelled, “You?” In disbelief.

Hux ignored them, “We don’t have much time, we have to go.” He gestured for them to follow and after a brief pause, they hastened to climb to their feet.

Poe hurried forward and grabbed a few of the fallen Troopers blasters, passing them to Finn and Chewie before taking one for himself. His blood was rushing, the feeling of being alive still—of getting lucky, again—made him feel powerful like you were out there somewhere sending him the strength and good fortune that he needed at every turn.

As they ran behind Hux, Finn touched Poe’s arm. “That was too close—made me realize, do you have a way of her knowing if something happens to you?”

Poe nodded, “Leia will tell her.”

But he sincerely hoped that would never happen, that you wouldn’t be standing in the doorway of some home he’d never know and hear the words that he had died, that he was never coming for you. The idea of you being in that kind of pain was something he couldn’t fully fathom, and it only renewed his determination to get to the Wayfinder and finish this fight once and for all.

11 Months Ago

“Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

Memories of your life with Poe had a way of burrowing into the forefront of your mind when you least expect them; when you let your guard down. The emotional goodbye all those years before, back on Yavin-4 when you were just kids—Poe leaving with Charlie to join the Resistance...it was a lifetime ago. And as much as you believed his words both then and now, it didn’t make the pain any easier to endure as you lay here without him, the Healer and Kes having left you alone with the newborn baby cradled in your arms.

You were surprised when the Healer had passed you the baby—after almost nine hours of labour—to see the tuft of dark curls on their head; Kes had remarked that Poe had come into the world with as much hair, and you’d laughed through your mixed tears of sorrow and joy and love. So they took after their dad—what a beautiful, heartbreaking thought.

Stars, you hoped Poe would meet them before long--before they grew too much. Just seeing the tiny creature, skin-to-skin with you like the Healer recommended, both made your heart feel complete while simultaneously tearing it apart. He should have been here to hold your hand, to cut the cord and press soft kisses to both of your heads and cry tears of joy from it all.

It wasn’t fair. Up until this moment you’d been able to lock back to anger and the bitter feelings over having let Poe send you away because it had been the right choice no matter what way you looked at it. But now, as you lay exhausted and bursting with love for the baby you made with your soulmate, you let some of that anger free through wretched sobs because it wasn’t fair that he had to miss this, that for all you knew he could be...

You stopped yourself from thinking of the worst-case scenario. It wasn’t helpful to imagine what he was doing now, where he was, if he was okay. And you’d promised him you would keep him alive in your mind unless you knew for certain that he wasn’t.

A small whine met your ears and you glanced down at the baby, smiling at their pinched expression as they struggled to adapt to their new surroundings. “It’s okay, little bug. Mama is here, shhh...” You cooed softly, running a lone finger over their hair in a gentle motion. You watched their eyes flutter beneath the lids, enjoying the feel of your touch, and then froze when they opened their eyes for the first time to look up at you blearily.

Stars, they had Poe’s eyes.

Now - 35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

When Temmin died, Poe truly began to lose all hope.

Before watching another friend’s x-wing get shot down, he’d managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel for that hope, for any remaining belief that they could win this fucking fight. That everything he’d ever sacrificed was worth it because now they had arrived and it was time to put an end to it all—but then he was screaming for Snap to watch his six, heard the anguished cry through the comm when he was hit, the searing memory of losing Charlie so many years before in the same way making his stomach churn, and he just felt so...

So fucking hopeless.

Leia was gone. The Resistance was down to pathetic numbers, and he had finally lost all hope.

Shit, if he was being honest with himself he’d been running through these last few days with urgency and adrenaline that prevented him from overthinking the odds, a blissful denial that anything other than winning could occur. When he’d told the remaining fighters of the Resistance that this was their final stand, that help would come, he had meant it as much as he’d hoped it was true.

“Help will come if they know there is hope,” Poe had stared around at his friends, at their doubting expressions, “They will. We have friends out there. The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone. We’re not alone—good people will fight if we lead them.”

In all of the time that had passed between when he’d said goodbye to you to this moment, he’d never once regretted sending you far away from the fight. Even here, with Rebel, after Rebel dying and a fleet of Destroyer’s that would wipe out entire planets unless they bent to the will of the First Order, he felt a sense of peace knowing that you were safely tucked away well beyond the reaches of their tyranny. His child would grow up with a mother who could share stories of Poe’s life, his love for you, for them.

It still stung, though, knowing he would never see you again. That he would die fighting and his last thoughts would be of you, of his little family, and you would have no idea. He hoped when you did find out the Resistance was done, the fight was lost, that you didn’t take it too hard—didn’t blame yourself in any way. He wanted you to be mad at him, not at yourself, not after everything you’d done for him, everything you had sacrificed.

He almost could have laughed, bleak as the outlook now was it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that no aid had arrived, that Lando and Chewie flew to the inner core worlds for nothing—clearly, no one was coming. Just like the Battle of Crait, they were alone; only now Leia was gone and Poe was the General, he was the one everyone was screaming for orders from through the comms, he was the one that had to say it aloud.

“My friends,” His voice was scratchy, choked up, as his mind played flashes of his life—of you, of losing Charlie, marrying you, losing Leia. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

He would die taking down as many enemies as he could. He would tell the rest of them to either do the same or flee—he wouldn’t blame them if they fled. Poe could almost imagine himself doing it, but the idea of finding you somewhere out there and saying he’d left at the final hour made bile heave in his stomach. He would never abandon the fight, not when you had wanted to stay as much as you had, but left for the baby.

As he struggled to pull in a breath to speak, he recalled the last time he saw you.

It was late, the base quiet and most of the Rebels sleeping, all except for Poe and you—it was time to say goodbye, under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t allowed to follow you into the hangar because he couldn’t know even the most minute details of how you got off-planet. Still, he would walk you as far as he could, and savour every final second together.

“I changed my mind, I’m not leaving you.” You whispered, halting in the hallway and turning to face Poe. One hand ran absentmindedly over your swollen stomach, the other reached up to grip his forearm. Your lower lip trembled, and he felt every word you wanted to say to convince him you should stay.

Poe took a shuddering breath, “Sweet girl, you aren’t leaving me—stop thinking about it like that. You’re saving our baby, keeping them safe, remember?” He tried to keep the desperate plea minimal in his voice because it had been like this for the last few days. One moment you were reluctantly prepared to leave, the next you were begging to stay. He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could stand before he broke down and let you stay.

Your pretty eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, just like his. You’d each cried more than enough to last a lifetime, and although heat pricked the corners of his eyes now he knew no more tears could come until you were out of sight. He would cry in his bed alone tonight, and probably every night until he saw you again, but right now he needed to show strength.

You stepped into his arms and Poe hugged you close, your body angling your stomach so that it wasn’t pressed between you both. “I don’t...Poe, I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”

Poe stared at you in disbelief, “Not strong enough? Are you kidding me?” He brought his hands to cup your cheeks gently, “You are the strongest person I know. What you are about to do for us, for our baby, is the most incredible sacrifice anyone could make. Everything you are doing and have done in your life only proves how amazing and strong you are—no matter what happens, please never forget that, okay?”

You whimpered sadly, nodding your head, and Poe shakily pressed his lips to yours, capturing you for one last kiss. It was soft and for one brief moment, he let himself imagine it was a greeting, though in truth it only made his heart fracture further rather than make him feel any better.

“Whatever happens, Poe, we’ll be okay...so don’t worry about us, focus on yourself,” You reached up and pushed your hands into his curls, savouring them one final time. “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting, flyboy.”

Poe smiled sadly down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your beautiful face, “Never, sweetheart, I promise I’ll never stop fighting. And this isn’t goodbye,” He pressed one hand gently against your belly, “It’s just a...see you soon. Once I’m finished blowing shit up in my x-wing.”

You laughed, tears streaming down your face and then pulled Poe against you again, his hand stuck between your bodies as you crushed him in a strong embrace. “I love you, Poe.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

35 ABY - Sorgan

You missed flying, though the place Leia had sent Kes and you to barely had any air traffic, the planet much too out of the way. Still, it had a sky that night or day you’d find yourself gazing into, wishing you could feel that weightlessness that came with blasting off from base, that you would look to your left and see Poe in his ship, the stars stretching beyond.

Poe. Stars, you missed him more and more every day. You had trouble believing it had been over a year, that the baby was now eleven months old and starting to try and walk and they’d never met their father. Though each time this knowledge became too heavy, you reminded yourself of the peaceful life you were living on Sorgan and how that had been the whole point of you leaving the fight—for the baby, for safety.

Sorgan was so far removed that no news reached the planet from the middle and core rims, something you’re sure Leia knew when she decided to send you here. You sometimes felt suffocated, not knowing a single thing about what was happening out there, but then you knew if you did know, it might make it harder to stay. And you couldn’t leave, you knew that for certain the moment you’d laid eyes on your newborn when the Healer had set the baby in your arms, face pinched as shrieks filled the air until they’d calmed, skin to skin with you.

You had gazed at the beautiful baby and you knew that you could never bear to part from them, no matter what you did or didn’t know about the war. Nonetheless, it was perhaps infinitesimally easier to be ignorant and allow yourself to imagine that it was all going fine.

You were living in a small but cozy yurt on the edge of a fishing village. The simple space comprised of the main room that hosted the barebones kitchen with a big table to eat at and a couple of comfortable sitting chairs, and had two rooms, one on either side, for sleeping quarters. The baby was in a crib at the end of your bed, where you were laying now. Very much awake even as they slept soundly.

Or so you thought until you were jerking from your thoughts at their sudden cries. You waited for a minute, the soft cries more whimpers than anything, and hoped the baby would soothe themselves back to sleep. They hiccuped, however, and started to cry again from the jolt. You sighed before sliding out from under the covers and padding softly to their crib.

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” You accused, grinning at the baby with the scrunched face, all the drama of their dad and only eleven months. Carefully lifting them, you tucked the baby against your chest and began to stroll slow circles around the bedroom, swaying as you went. “You know, when your dad finally comes and meets you he’s taking night duty over. I don’t care how many wars he wins.”

The little coo you got in response was enough to tell you Bug was on your side.

Though every day apart from Poe was painful, you did savour the good moments with the little piece of your heart that remained, beating for the baby you held now. And on this peaceful, sleepy planet most days had plenty of good—even if you were sad. Kes was an incredibly positive man, and like his son knew how to read you well, often stepping in to whisk the baby away whenever he sensed your sorrow was too hard to contain. You tried to spend all of the energy you had smiling for Bug because that was the only thing you could really do.

The guilt was heavy. You knew Poe would be devastated if he knew just how much you carried, living so comfortably—if a little rustic—on Sorgan all while he spent every day fighting to stay alive. But it was easier to focus on that guilt, to hate yourself than it was to be afraid of losing him—never seeing him again. Stars, the guilt was practically a salve in comparison to that.

Some days though, it was harder to keep the frame of mind that staying was the only option. As the baby grew, the guilt began to feed a steady flow of ‘what if’s’ into your mind. It was getting harder to ignore the sense of it. When Bug started to mix food into their diet, weaning partially from your breastmilk, you told yourself you could wean them completely, earlier than you planned but then you could hire a ship to take you back to D’Qar...

Only, you didn’t even know if D’Qar was still safe anymore.

It was a circular battle you couldn’t win no matter the choice you made, though you always chose the baby, chose to stay because you promised Poe you would. He’d told you that you were making the greatest sacrifice, and he had been right—he knew he could distract himself with the fight, and that you would only be able to distract yourself so much with raising the baby. He understood you would spend every day apart wishing you could rejoin him.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts and you glanced down at the baby to find them fast asleep again. You smiled fondly, that little chunk of your heart giving a happy beat as you settled them back into their crib and ran your fingers gently over their soft cheek.

“Goodnight, Charlie, my sweet girl.” You whispered heart clenching at the sight of her chubby cheeks relaxed in sleep.

Deciding a cool drink was needed, you slipped from the quiet of your room and into the main extension of the yurt you shared with Kes. A single lamp lit the small space dimly, and you helped yourself to a glass of water and took a seat at the table. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before Kes appeared and sat down across from you with a knowing smile on his face.

He sat silently for a few minutes as you sipped at your drink, speaking only once you’d finished. “Can’t sleep again?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, exhaustion setting deep in your bones.

“I keep having the same dream, Kes. Poe and Bug, back home on Yavin-4. Only, the beach is in colour but they aren’t.” You choked up, glancing toward your room, where you could see the crib through the doorway.

Kes followed your gaze, “Bug will meet him someday. I know it. You need to believe that too, kiddo, and you really need to get some sleep.” He patted your hand gently before standing and you watched him make his way to his room, pulling the curtain across his doorway as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your palms into your closed eyes, willing your mind to settle so that you could go to bed and get some rest. You just don’t think you could stand to have the dream again—always waking up and wondering, would you ever really get to see Poe again? Would he ever get to meet his little girl?

When you climbed back beneath the cool sheets of your bed, you fell into light sleep, your dreams the same as ever—Poe playing with Charlie on the beach back home on Yavin-4 while you sat on a blanket on the sand watching, laughing as they splashed each other. Your family, together again.

35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

As wretched as it was to think of never seeing you again, this wasn’t the first time he thought he was going to die. At least here, in his x-wing, he could take out as many enemies as he could before going out in a blaze—just like...like Charlie.

“I thought we had a shot. There’s too many of them.” He finished speaking to the remaining fighters in resignation, his eyes heavy—he was tired, so tired. Enough so that when a new, familiar voice came clear over the comms, he sat up straighter before his mind even registered what they were saying.

“Oh, but there’s more of us, Poe. There’s more of us.”

Poe spun his ship around, his heart frozen in his chest, flew up over the wreckage of the one First Order ship they’d so far managed to take out—and there it was.

Lando and Chewie were back; he could see the Falcon, and behind them were thousands and thousands of ships. And still, more coming as he looked, pulling out of light speed to fall in with the Falcon. Poe could hardly believe his eyes, but right before him, he couldn’t doubt for a moment that his friends had come back and they...

They had brought hope.

You sat with your toes in the water, the sun shining on your back warm and comforting. Charlie splashed around happily, her water suit covering her arms and legs, joining her cute straw hat in protecting her from too much sunlight. She kept looking from the water around her chubby legs to the flowing stream behind her-as if dissatisfied with the ankle-deep water you had set her in.

“You can go in the river in a few years,” You cocked a brow at her as she gave you a pouty look. “You’re very cute, but mama says no.”

With a resigned sigh that seemed far too mature for her, she went back to splashing the water and you slid your toes towards her, wriggling them so that she tried to catch hold. When she managed to grab your big toe, you laughed and she giggled brightly, her gleeful peals filling the quiet around you.

It was a beautiful day on Sorgan. They all were, really, even the rainy days, the ones that kept you inside the yurt listening to the rain while Kes tried to teach Charlie how to crawl and you laughed as you watched them. But the sunny days were the best, the ones you could fill with endless activity to distract yourself as much as to tire out the baby. Because when your mind settled, it tended to stray off into dark thoughts.

Maybe Poe was gone.

Maybe he would never come to find you here, your little family would be memories of Poe as you raised his little girl with Kes instead. The weight of that responsibility, of ensuring she had a happy life all while missing a whole section of your heart for the rest of your own was heavy so you tried not to overthink it.

You channelled that energy into Charlie, focused on her and you think you were doing a good job of keeping her safe and content. You showed Charlie pictures of Poe every day, wanting to ensure she knew his face even if she would never get to see it in person. She’d been looking at him since she was just a little bean, and you repeated his name, ‘dada’, every time as well. She wasn’t speaking yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the association in her mind when she was ready to start talking.

Charlie stopped splashing and glanced up at you with wide eyes, her expression familiar. “Hungry, Bug?” You reached out for her and lifted her from the water, carefully standing and wading to the grassy spot you’d set your picnic up.

You dried her off first, then let her crawl on the blanket while you dry your feet before following her to sit. She beelined for you as you untied your tunic, lowering one side and easing your breast out, grateful your nanny droid had provided you with a soothing balm for your aching nipples. Breastfeeding was your favourite way to bond with her, but Stars, it came at a cost.

You settled Charlie against you and watched as she closed her eyes, suckling softly. You adjusted the tunic to protect her from the sun and fell into a quiet state as she fed. It was sometime later that the sound of a large ship captured your attention, breaking you from your meditation.

Charlie was asleep against you, her face still pressed to your breast, and didn’t stir as the ship, far in the distance, flew past. You wondered briefly, a jolt of electricity coursing through you wondering if it was Poe come to find you both. But when the ship flew only further away, you pushed the idea from your mind. It was probably a shipment from the core worlds going to the markets. You made a mental note to plan a trip there for the next day—if there were fresh supplies, you might find a treat or two. Get something nice for Kes, perhaps.

Feeling exhaustion hit, you napped with Charlie there on the river's edge. You had nothing to fear on Sorgan, and in fact, many of the neighbours in your village were around, not too close but enough so that if needed they could come and wake you. You kept Charlie protected from the sun but let it shine on you, the brightness no match for the gentle lull of sleep, the soft trickle of the river.

When you woke an hour later, you felt more rested than you had in some time, pausing as you sat up to stretch the kinks from your body. Charlie was wriggling and you knew she probably needed to be changed. “Time to go home?” You asked her with a grin, and she made a sour little face in response that made you laugh. You loved how expressive she was, how even though she wasn’t talking yet she managed to let you know how she felt.

With practiced movements, you packed up the little picnic, hoisted your bag over one shoulder before lifting her to sit against your hip, and made the short walk home. Kes was sitting outside the yurt when you arrived, reading, though he set the book down at the sound of your footsteps and grinned widely when Charlie cooed for him.

“Did you have a nice time, ladies?”

You smiled, “She sure loves the water, I should start taking her in the river, see how she likes floating,” Kes took her from you carefully—Charlie made a face and you both laughed, “Sorry, Kes, I think she needs to be changed.”

“No worries, you relax for a bit and I’ll deal with diaper duty.”

Nodding gratefully, you set your bag down on the chair Kes had vacated and turned to gaze out at the grassy lawn. It was a simple home, certainly not where you would have planned to raise a baby, but it was peaceful. You start to think about the next steps, how long you would stay on Sorgan before leaving. You would go ahead first, find out if it was safe, and then you wanted to return to Yavin-4. Not for a few years, although you’d like to leave before Charlie got too old and she was too attached to this place.

You stepped away from the front of the yurt to stare out over the fields. First towards the villagers as they came in from working for the day in the waters, ready to put their feet up before making dinner, and then you turned toward the river and watched the water for a while, your arms crossed, listening distantly to Charlie and Kes making each other laugh inside.

When a voice broke through your thoughts a short while later, you started in surprise before spinning, recognition of the honey-warm tone slamming into you.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

“Rey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you—“

Rey cut Poe off, gripping his arm with a soft smile, “It was Leia, Poe. She found me before we left Ajan Kloss, she put the coordinates in my head, just in case she didn’t make it.”

Poe hugged her quickly, “Still, without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find her here.” He hurried to the ramp, hitting the button to lower it with excitement mounting within him by the second.

“What do you want us to do?” Finn was standing next to Poe as he waited for the ramp to lower onto the grass.

Poe glanced up at his friend, “I have to go alone, can you wait for me here? I’ll come for you—or send for you—if I find them.” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke, nerves slicing his stomach to pieces. He hadn’t felt this close to you in almost a year and a half.

Finn nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’ll wait. She has to be here, Poe, you’ll find her.” He clapped Poe on the shoulder encouragingly and he swallowed, unable to form a response so he just returned a half-smile and then clambered down the ramp.

Sorgan was a quiet, sleepy planet full of green. If you were here, the idea that you spent all this time in such a place was comforting to Poe—you would have been able to enjoy the land, be outside, not cooped up somewhere.

He was in a small village, and the market that lined the street was bustling with after-work crowds that were in the tens, the people all smiling at one another in a way that revealed how kind of a place it was. He wandered for a few minutes until he spotted a stand that carried medical supplies and approached the vendor, a friendly-looking older woman who grinned at him.

“Hello, stranger. How can I help you?”

Poe held up the photo he had of you, one he’d taken not long after finding out you were pregnant, your hand on your small belly and a big smile on your face. “Have you seen this woman, ma’am?”

“That’s Mrs. Carstairs,” She responded with a small nod. Poe felt his insides inflate, his excitement now ready to burst forth in a shout of glee that he had to bite back. He took a steadying breath, realizing that you had used your mother’s maiden name as your cover.

He grinned, “Yes, (y/n)—“

The woman cut him off, her eyes widening, “Oh now, you must be the husband. Now that I look at you, the baby has your eyes.”

Poe’s stomach turned over at this information. The baby had his eyes? “That’s me, do you know where I can find her, please?” He made to pull out some credits to pass over to the woman for her trouble, only she reached over to take his hand gently and shook her head, smiling.

“No need for that, dear,” She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby road that split off from the village, “Just follow that, about twenty minutes you’ll come across a fishing village. She lives right off that road on the outskirts of the village.”

Saying his thanks quickly, Poe ran faster than he had in his life in the direction she had indicated.

When he finally saw the little yurt along the main road, he breathed a sigh of relief. The sun was lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow over the ponds, fields and the nearby river. It was beautiful, and as he passed the fishing village he smiled at the villagers, who gave him curious looks before returning friendly smiles. He slowed to catch his breath, his eyes moving back to the yurt, now much closer. And then his gaze snapped to a figure standing not far from the door, gazing out in the direction of the river.

It was you.

His heart about ripped out of his chest at the sight of you alive and well. The closer he got he could see how you’d barely changed—your skin had seen more sunlight, your hair was longer, and he could see the soft curves of your figure that motherhood had brought on. He watched you for a moment, standing a few feet back, and he could hear his dad inside the yurt making a baby laugh.

Making his baby laugh.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

You spun around so fast you were a blur, though Poe didn’t miss the way your hand twitched toward the blaster at your hip before your eyes landed on him. Seeing this only made him grin more broadly, but nerves for the reunion kept him rooted to the spot. What if you were angry with him? The thought hadn’t occurred to him before this, but perhaps you-

“POE!” You cried out, and then you were running forward and jumping into his arms and it was everything he’d dreamed of and more. He caught you and held you close as you both fell to your knees in the grass, and Poe let himself get lost in the moment, sobs pulling from deep within.

He hugged you as tight as he could and then started to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you. Stars above, I missed you,” He murmured, his eyes closing as your fingers sunk into his curls and tugged him, your lips crashing to his in a desperate kiss that felt exactly like coming home.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to find us,” You whimpered after pulling back, your body still pressed against his, “I can’t believe you’re finally here...”

Poe shook his head, “Leia had a backup plan all along. Stars, you are so beautiful,” He swept his fingers over your cheeks, getting a good look at you now and seeing how well cared for you looked; Sorgan had been good to you. “I’m here now. It’s over, we’re safe now.”

You released your hold on his head to run your hands over your face, wiping at your tears, “Poe, the baby’s just inside, I—”

Poe and you both turned your heads at the same time at the sound of Kes coming out the door, his excited shout of glee making you both grin wider. He was holding the baby in his arms, and they looked around at the sound of your laugh, eyes just like Poe’s wide and curious—what a beautiful sight.

For a beat, the baby just stared at him, and then as Kes moved closer, a smile—a little smirk just like yours—appeared.

“Dada!”

Kes froze and glanced down at the baby in surprise, and Poe heard you gasp, one of your hands landing on his arm and squeezing excitedly. “That’s right Charlie, sweet girl, this is your Dada!”

Poe couldn’t stop staring at the baby, who hadn’t looked away from him either even as you spoke to her. She made grabby hands then, reaching for him and he tentatively raised his hands. His dad closed the gap between them and lowered the baby and he took hold of her cautiously, words caught in his throat and his heart beating fast.

She was a solid thing, sturdy in his arms and cooing happily as she gazed up in wonder at Poe. She was stunning, her eyes honey-brown and lined with thick, long lashes just like yours. Her skin was soft, and she was chunky, her baby rolls making him smile wider. After a minute, she spoke again, “Dada!” She raised her little fists towards his scruffy jaw before glancing at you.

Poe followed her gaze, “How does she know me?” He breathed, his heart in his throat.

Your watery smile only grew, “Showed her your picture every day. Wanted her to know her daddy, even if he...he couldn’t be with us,” You shuffled closer, one arm securing itself around Charlie and grasping Kes’ arm. “That was her first word, Poe. She said it just for you.”

Tears stinging at his eyes, Poe sat huddled with his family, clutching the baby closer with one arm, the other around your shoulders. His dad had thrown his arms around both you and Poe and was lamenting about how good it was to see him while Charlie cooed happily in his arms.

The moment was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Poe couldn’t put Charlie down. He carried her around for the rest of the evening, following you into the comfortable yurt you had called home all this time, one hand always on you, keeping you close.

Dad was making dinner and Poe enjoyed the banter you had, the routine of living together clearly having established itself long ago. He felt a jolt of gratitude for his dad dropping everything on Yavin-4 to take care of you and Charlie all this time.

He ate with one hand, relinquishing his hold on you but tugging you into his side before eating, his eyes constantly drinking in every expression on the baby’s face. He hadn’t realized how in love he would be so instantly, and certainly had not expected Charlie to adore him just as much—he’d thought the baby would be shy around him, maybe cry when he held them. But you had ensured she knew his face, his name—just another thing you did for him.

Poe was never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you had done.

“Poe?” Your soft voice broke into his thoughts and he looked around at you. You gave him a tentative sort of look, “Where is BB8?”

His shoulders relaxed automatically, “Oh he’s on the ship I came here in...with my friends,” He grinned and you copied him, your eyes curious, “I’ll go get them tomorrow and you can meet...I have so much to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your expression softened, “We have all the time in the world now.” You reached up and stroked his jaw, the motion so familiar his eyes automatically closed and emotion swelled in his chest. Before he could reply, he felt a second, much smaller hand land on his jaw and begin to copy the movement.

He smiled, looking through his lashes to see Charlie watching you intently as she imitated you, “Clever baby,” He murmured, and Charlie lit up at the sound of his voice. He turned his head and kissed her little hand affectionately.

“She gets her brains from me,” Kes piped up, tossing a wink at you before collecting everyone’s plates. He set them in the large stone sink before glancing at his watch. “You want to put her down for the night in my room?”

As you nodded, your eyes falling from Kes to Charlie, Poe felt a flush begin to creep up his neck at the idea of being alone with you again after so much time. He wanted to hold you close with nothing separating your bodies and curl into your healing warmth. Your hand reached for his, pulling him from his thoughts, and you tipped your head toward the baby in his arms, whose eyes were blinking slowly as exhaustion set in.

“Time for bed, little Bug,” You murmured, leading Poe towards your room. The curtain across the doorway sat open, fluttering slightly in the cool evening air, and the room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight outside and some of the filtering light from the lamps in the main room of the yurt.

Poe carried Charlie to her crib, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Goodnight, Charlie, I love you.” He whispered, smiling to himself when she replied with a sleepy little coo. You took her from Poe then and took a moment to show him how to put the baby down for the night.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he watched you soothe Charlie, your fingers brushing delicately over her cheeks until her fluttering lashes settled and a small snore confirmed she was asleep. Poe hadn’t felt so much love in such a long time, he was half convinced he wouldn’t survive all of it thrumming through him now. And Stars, he was fucking proud of you, of how good of a mother you were; you’d done an amazing job raising Charlie so far, and he briefly worried about how he would ever be able to compare to you; if he could be as good of a parent as you were.

Once you had Charlie tucked in, you pushed the crib silently into Kes’ room, then wandered over to an armchair and picked up a blanket. When you turned to look up at Poe, his breath caught at the expression on your face. “Come with me, flyboy.”

Gulping, Poe followed you outside and across the grassy lawn in silence. You led him straight to a secluded spot along the riverbank, the flow of the water the only sound he could hear aside from his heartbeat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous, alone with you for the first time in over a year—he’d faced down death countless times since, and yet it was this moment that was giving him pause.

He watched as you carefully spread the blanket out on the cool grass, then slipped off your shoes before stepping towards Poe with a soft smile. “Come here,” You whispered, and he closed the gap between you both eagerly. Kicking off his shoes before pulling you against him in a crushing hug, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar scent deeply.

He couldn’t have said who started to cry first, just that the moment he had you tight in his arms, you were both taking shuddering breaths. He let himself sob in a mixture of joy and sadness for everything, one hand cradling your head against his chest as you sniffled. “Sweet girl,” Poe drew back to look down at you after a few minutes, “Maker, I missed you. Every day was...shit, just complete shit without you.” He admitted, eyes closing automatically when you reached up to brush the tears from his face.

“I missed you too, but you’re here now, Poe. You’re here and you’re safe,” You whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to the end of his nose, “You’re safe, baby.”

He kissed you then; harsher than he’d intended, but you met him with equal intensity, your hands sliding into his hair to draw him closer, teeth clashing. The need then, to be with you, became overwhelming—he pushed your pants down frantically, then undid the tie of your wrap tunic and slid it off your shoulders, grunting when he realized you wore no chest band beneath.

You’d started undressing him, but when your hand passed over his length he brushed his fingers against your pebbled nipples in response and you hissed, body jerking away slightly. Poe’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled back from kissing you, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

You tugged at his shirt, smiling softly, and he removed it before glancing down your body, his eyes drinking in every glorious curve, the fullness to your breasts. “Breastfeeding is hard on these,” You replied, gesturing toward your somewhat swollen nipples, “You didn’t hurt me, just need to be careful.”

Poe nodded his understanding, surveying your postpartum body with a new wild hunger he’d never before experienced. You were beautiful, always, but something about seeing your shape with its new fullness, your milk-filled breasts and soft stomach—it made him feral. With a groan, he quickly helped you to lay down on the blanket, careful to avoid your chest as he peppered kisses down your warm body, relishing in every square inch of you. “My beautiful love,” He spread your legs apart, his hand trailing down the slit of your wet heat, “Oh sweet girl, so wet for me. You’re a fucking dream.”

As much as he wanted to taste you, lick you until you couldn’t see, the need to be inside of you was too great to allow for any more time apart. Propping himself on one arm, Poe gripped your thigh, lifting it from the ground, and gently rocked his hips forward, groaning as you tightly gripped around his cock, your body needing his just as much.

“Oh fuck, Poe...”

“I know—I’ve got you,” Poe whispered, settling between your thighs, he dropped your leg and lowered his body fully over yours, careful to keep his weight on his arm. He captured your lips against his as he slowly dragged his cock back, then rutted forward, building a slow pace meant to draw out the feeling of bliss for as long as possible. “Missed you—dreamt of you every night, baby, every fucking night.”

You had one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other pressed into his lower back and your legs wrapped around his hips. You whimpered, “N-never leaving you again,” The words came out strained, thick with emotion even as you moaned at the feel of him moving within you, “It’s you a-and me, f-forever. Forever.” Your back arched slightly, and Poe groaned at the change in angle, your walls clamping around him harder.

“Fuck,” He felt himself getting close and quickly slid his free hand between his body and yours, slamming into you as he circled your clit tenderly. “Forever, sweet girl, I promise—cum for me, let me feel you—“

“Poe—“ You whined, your eyes fluttering as your pleasure spiked, and he felt your body go rigid beneath him as his hips stuttered—he came with you, spilling himself with a groan as you trembled and moaned, then pressing himself as deep as he could while you both came tumbling back to each other.

When Poe finally collapsed next to you, he slipped out of you carefully before tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you both caught your breath. “Still...still got it, flyboy.” You joked, giggling when Poe shifted to look down at you with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same to you.”

“Ah well, it’s busy work running around after a baby, you know. Keeps you fit.” You grinned, snuggling against Poe as the cool night air seemed to seep between you. He reached above his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it over your upper body to protect you from getting too cold.

Once he was satisfied you were comfortable, he rolled so that he was looking down at you, your head resting on his forearm. “Sweet girl, you—I mean, Charlie is perfect. You kept her safe, raised her, taught her who I was...I can never thank you enough, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Oh Poe,” You smiled, your eyes glistening as you gazed up at him with a fondness that he felt almost undeserving of, a hand cupping his cheek. “You came back to us, that’s all I could have ever asked for—you’re alive and you’re here.” You choked up, then, and Poe leaned down to press his forehead to yours, cupping your cheek softly with one hand.

You lay together for a short while; until the cold became too much. Curling up together in bed sounded almost too good to be true. “Come on, sweet girl, let’s get some sleep,” He gathered you in his arms, pausing as you grabbed at the clothing he wasn’t going to bother putting on, and carried you into the yurt, the blanket abandoned in the grass outside.

When Poe had his body pressed against yours under the comforter of the bed you’d slept in alone all this time, he kept his arms securely around you and felt peace wash over him, “Going to introduce you to some pretty special friends in the morning, and then we can plan our next steps, my love.”

With a happy little sigh, you tucked your head into his neck and fell asleep promptly, your light snores lulling him until, just at the precipice of sleep, he smiled to himself—he was home.

The first thing you noticed when you woke early the next morning was the bed next to you was empty. Your hands roamed for Poe and when you didn’t find him you sat up quickly, wondering if perhaps you had dreamt of the day prior, of him coming home...

Only, a little giggle from outside your room sounded and you heard Poe proudly declare, “Clever, just like your mama, Charlie girl.”

You hadn’t ever known happiness like this, truly. Your heart was full and repaired and you couldn’t believe how after so much time, so many years of mistakes and pain, you were married to your best friend and he was currently waiting for you to wake up while caring for your baby, the little girl who shared traits of the both of you. This felt like a dream, but it was so raw it couldn’t be anything other than real.

You sprang from bed, throwing on your robe and hurrying out to see Poe holding Charlie as he sat in the armchair, bouncing her on his knee as she giggled for him. When you paused to watch, a smile stretching over your face, he glanced up at you and his own broadened, eyes shining brightly with affection.

“Morning, mama,” His thick morning voice always sent heat through you, and the fact that he was sitting shirtless, his hard muscles flexing as he moved Charlie only doused further fuel on the fire within. He seemed to read that in your expression, his soft eyes darkening somewhat before he sent you a wink that said there’d be time for that again later.

Charlie had looked around to follow Poe’s gaze and she cooed loudly when she saw you, her hands raised towards you. You frowned, “Oh, now you want mama time? Could it be that you’re hungry?” Charlie made grabby hands as Poe laughed and you pulled her from his arms before settling into the chair next to him, easing your robe open enough for her to have access to your chest.

Settling her in for her meals was second nature to you; you knew the way she preferred to lay, how to hold her just right, that she liked to feed quietly in the mornings but at night you were allowed to rub her back and speak soothing words to her. As she began to suckle, you carefully adjusted your breast to make the angle more comfortable, then glanced up remembering that Poe was watching.

The expression on his face was stunning—he was watching you rapturously, as though the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. You saw emotion mixed in with the awe and the adoration, and you knew he was feeling grateful he hadn’t missed something as pure as this entirely, that Charlie hadn’t grown too much.

You leaned your head back to rest and smiled at Poe warmly, “She’s on partial foods now, you can feed her yourself a little later, if you want.” You whispered, and his face brightened even more. You felt a bit like those first days after you’d joined him and your brother on D’Qar, the giddy joy of reuniting making the smiles stretch for days.

“I’d love that,” He shuffled his chair closer, resting one hand behind where you were holding Charlie, the other raising to brush over your cheek. “Does it...hurt?”

You shook your head and his look of concern relaxed, “Not really, she’s good about not biting,” Poe cringed at the thought and you giggled, “She’s a good baby. Now, you said you wanted us to meet your friends?”

He nodded, his expression softening sadly, “They’re the reason I was able to make it home to you...I have so much to tell you, but I want you to meet them first.” Poe’s eyes dropped down to watch Charlie again and you let him have a moment, recognizing he had suffered a great deal over the year and a half apart.

You let your eyes wander over his bare torso and noticed now, in the morning light, that he had some new scars, some angrier than the others. The idea of him having been hurt made your stomach sink, and you couldn’t help but lean toward him, capturing his lips against yours when he glanced up. He moaned softly at the tender kiss, petting your hair, and you let yourself sink into the moment, pulling back only when Charlie stirred.

“Where did you leave them?”

Poe gestured toward the main village, “Just outside the village, on our ship. I could go and get them—“

You shook your head, “I think a walk will do us all good. Let’s get dressed, eh Charlie?” You made a face at the baby, who was sleepily peering up at you, happy with her tummy now full, and she smiled at your expression.

Poe insisted on changing Charlie’s diaper and dressing her, so you merely stood by and watched, handing him her daytime outfit and trying not to laugh too hard as he struggled. You could see the joy in his eyes as he attempted to get her arms through the sleeves, his big hands so incredibly gentle as he worked. It took about twice as long as normal, but eventually, Charlie was ready to go and you took her from Poe, strapping her to your chest with a sarong, watching him as he dressed.

You wanted to ask about the new scars. But you were afraid when you did, it would open up the vault he was currently guarding and all of the terrible stories would come tumbling out. Enjoying this peaceful reunion for a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone, so you resisted the urge and instead popped your head into Kes’s room to let him know where you were going.

“It was hard, not knowing anything,” You admitted quietly as you walked along with Poe, Charlie gazing around happily. The arm draped over your shoulders tightened somewhat at your words. “Leia sure picked a good place for us, though. It’s been quiet, safe.”

You glanced at him, the tension in his jaw confirming something you’d suspected since he’d arrived-after he’d mentioned it was thanks to one of his new friends that he’d been able to find you. Leia was gone, but he didn’t know how to tell you—just as much as you were avoiding asking him for details, he was reluctant to give them.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing,” He replied softly before his eyes lit up. You followed his gaze and saw a large ship, its ramp lowered, come into view just as a familiar orange and white blur was speeding in your direction.

“Buddy!” You yelled, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee to greet BB8, one arm securing Charlie closer to ensure she didn’t get too jostled from your movements. The droid beeped and whirred excitedly and the baby began to giggle, craning her head to look at BB8. “Charlie, this is BB8, wave hi—“ You laughed as Charlie roughly flopped her chubby arm in the direction of the droid.

You could feel Poe’s hand resting lightly on the crown of your hand, and you looked up at him to speak but before you could, another voice chimed in. “Poe, man, you found them!” A handsome man with enviably smooth skin and a friendly grin was walking towards you with a pretty woman who had sad eyes next to him.

Poe helped you to stand back up, his arm securing around you as he led you forward to meet his friends. “Finn—Rey, meet my better half, (y/n), and my kid, Charlie.”

You saw the pair shoot wide-eyed looks at Poe when he said Charlie’s name, and you realized he must have told them about you, about your brother. The thought warmed your heart even further. You reached out and grasped each of their hands in turn, grinning, “It is really lovely to meet you, thank you for getting Poe back to me and Charlie safely.”

Finn smiled warmly, “Hey, he saved our asses as much as we saved his,” Poe shoved his arm playfully, laughing. Rey was quiet, you noticed, gazing at the baby thoughtfully. You wondered who she had lost.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and Rey met your eyes in surprise, though after a brief pause she smiled nervously and nodded. Her smile lit up her whole face, and you were glad you thought to offer the baby as a way to pull it from her—babies had a way of making the sad a little less daunting.

You lifted Charlie out of the sarong, “Say hi to Auntie Rey, Charlie!” Charlie began to babble incoherently in that cheerful baby talk as she settled against Rey’s hip. She watched her, smiling to herself, before glancing between you and Poe.

“She’s beautiful,” Rey’s hand caught one of Charlie’s, squeezing gently, “Takes after her mama, clearly.” She tacked on, throwing Poe a look that made you laugh out loud.

Finn, you noticed, was watching Rey hold the baby with a quiet expression of adoration that made you smile inwardly. He caught you staring and grinned cheekily. As he began to chide Poe teasingly, a sudden memory came to mind, of the last time you had spoken to your father.

“Just remember, family always comes first—but we can make our own family, sweetie,” Dad squeezed your hand, “Family is what we make it, big or small, blood-related or not. So you make sure to surround yourself with good people, people you love and trust, and you’ll always have a family.”

And as you stood there, gazing at your new friends, the people who had ensured your Poe had come back to you, you realized that you were only adding to your family today. You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire galaxy, your heart was bursting with joy and hope for everything still to come.

Poe pressed a kiss to your temple, and you shot him a smile, knowing he felt it too.

Here, you thought, was where the next chapter of your life began. And you couldn’t be more excited.

A/N—THANK YOU for reading this story, for enjoying this journey with me and loving my characters so much. I’m hopeful you loved this final chapter and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. And of course, we still have the epilogue coming!🤍

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @asaucecoveredsomething @ladydmalfoy

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed

Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.

Spoilers below the cut.

Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation

The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart

Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”

Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.

The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.

Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.

The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.

Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.

Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.

But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.

*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.

Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening

Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else

Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.

None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.

Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.

We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.

And nobody. Does. Anything.

Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”

Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.

That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.

What Kind of Show Is This?

When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.

Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.

Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.

Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.

Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.

Isaac is the Main Character

Always has been.

While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.

If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.

Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It

The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.

Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.

Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?

Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?

Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!

Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.

This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.

God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.

I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.

[demonslayedher]

An Attempted Timeline: Kochou Shinobu

Very open to feedback, because canon is as spread out as Muzan after his first date with Sun Breathing. Instead of tracking the year or distance from current timeline, we shall track this by Shinobu’s age (roughly, in most spots).  Despite being centered around Shinobu’s life events, I’m also diving into Aoi’s life, the other Pillars’ timelines of life events too, and doing some conjecture about Shinobu’s deceased Tsuguko.  Should be obvious, but spoilers ahead. 

Childhood: Raised by kind parents who possessed medical knowledge. Sometime around elementary school age (at the oldest, I’d put her at 11, but probably younger), parents are killed by a demon, house is demolished, and she and Kanae are rescued by Himejima (who was maybe around 20 or younger at the time), who hands them off to the Kakushi. After the funeral for their parents, she and Kanae seek out Himejima for training, and after a little time with them he sends them to separate cultivators (according to the light novel chapter “One Winged Butterfly.”) Training under cultivators usually takes about a year. She and Kanae perhaps passed the Final Selection when Shinobu was around 12-ish, give or take.  (For setting and comparison’s sake, Kagaya and Amane have long since already been married and Kiriya is already born.) Whether Kanae becomes a Pillar first or they establish the hospital at the Butterfly Mansion first is unclear, but these events happen relatively quickly. I suspect they might have had access to a lot of savings from their parents. Furthermore, this makes Kanae one of the many Pillars in the recent generation who blows that “it usually takes five years to become a Pillar” Taisho Secret away. (As an aside, maybe the reason the Corp as a whole seems to be full of weaklings is because the current Pillars have sucked up all the amazingness, but I digress.)

The Butterfly Mansion’s hospital was established long before Sanemi became a Pillar (according to the light novel chapter “Signpost of the Wind”). Sometime after Kanae becomes a Pillar, Sanemi becomes a Pillar. Giyuu was a Pillar before Sanemi was; the three of them were the same age. My guess is that Shinobu was around 13 when Kanae became a Pillar, putting Kanae and Sanemi around ages 15ish~17 when they would have had chances to interact. For comparison, Giyuu and Sabito were 13 at the time of the Final Selection, so Giyuu would had already been in the Corp longer than Kanae and Shinobu.

The following events either happened very quickly or unfolded over the course of a couple years:

Aoi (likely the the same age as Kanao) comes into their care (she preceded Kanao since she was there for Kanao’s naming, according to Taisho Secrets and second fanbook)*

Kanao (two years younger than Shinobu but much smaller, and given how petite Shinobu is, I can only assume this is because of how malnourished Kanao was) is adopted as their little sister on some May 19 (the anime seems to put the event in winter, but I assume it was already in production before the first fanbook was published with that detail)

Kanao has ample opportunity to observe Kanae’s Flower Breathing and learn by watching

Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho come into the fold (separately or all at once, though not as relatives)

Kanae is killed by Douma (Shinobu is age 14, one of the only pieces of this timeline we can be certain of). As she wished in her dying moments for Shinobu to live a normal life, she may or may not have had Shinobu as her Tsuguko, or had any Tsuguko at all.

Shinobu, age 14, becomes the head of the Butterfly Mansion household, where she already has five adoptive/pseudo younger sisters. At this point she takes on a cheerful personality, as well as probably set her heart on becoming a Pillar as soon as possible and becoming strong enough to defeat the demon that killed Kanae.

*Aoi’s circumstances are important (and curious) because the second fanbook tells us both that she practiced Water Breathing and that she passed the same Final Selection as Muichiro. Since Muichiro became a Pillar two months after taking up the sword, that means he went almost straight from sword to Final Selection to Pillar. We don’t know how much recovery time he needed after losing Yuichiro at age 11, because he wasn’t among the Pillars in the Rengoku Gaiden, so he perhaps only started practicing the sword closer to late 12 or age 13 (putting Aoi around 14, 15-ish when she passed the Final Selection, and presumably quit the sword right after that).  It’s interesting to note what a different relationship Aoi has with Shinobu than Kanao does, especially since Aoi was there first but Kanao was adopted as a sister in a more all-encompassing sense. I suspect (and am putting this in italics for conjecture): Due to whatever circumstances with her Water Breath cultivator (possibly difficulty in housing a lone girl among a bunch of male students), Aoi needed to live elsewhere during her training. The Butterfly Mansion was a good spot, so Kanae and Shinobu agreed, like sponsoring a junior, and in exchange Aoi helped out around the house and hospital. Aoi kept her own last name, as she had her own family to avenge. When Kanao came in, it was purely out of wanting to help an orphan who wound up staying with them instead of being adopted out, which is why she was given a family identity and an opportunity to take the Kochou name if she wanted to (or even Aoi’s family name). They were probably treated differently because of the nature of how they came in and an assumption that Aoi would leave as soon as she entered the Corp. As Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi came in, it was a weird middle ground of whether they were just looked after until something better for them came along or if they were adopted as sisters as fully as Kanao was. Ultimately, they still retained a lot of their identities from before they were orphaned, and it was more of a pseudo-sisterhood, which Aoi had sort of fallen into as well. But, once Aoi entered the Corp and then quit the sword, she probably didn’t feel she could turn to her cultivator for any help, so at that point Shinobu took more full responsibility for her as a permanent household member.

Moving back on to Shinobu’s timeline, if I’m remembering the Giyuu Gaiden correctly (it’s been a while since I read it so I don’t recall exactly), that story took place shortly after Giyuu sent Tanjiro and Nezuko to Urokodaki, and it was also shortly after Shinobu became a Pillar. Since Tanjiro took two years to train after that, that would put her at age 16. Since Kanao joined the Corp in the same batch as Tanjiro, that means Shinobu would have had about two years between becoming a Pillar and taking Kanao as her official Tsuguko (I stress ‘official’ because it comes with distinction Tengen respects, it’s not casual “sure, I’ll look after you” thing). In that time, she had (at least) three other previous Tsuguko, all girls given butterfly hairpins, and who were all killed by demons in that two year period. 

Conjecture about Shinobu and these Tsuguko: 

Knowing how likely she is to be killed before she has an opportunity to avenge Kanae, Shinobu was likely in a hurry to train a Tsuguko and started trying to pass her knowledge on right away. It’s possible they were even closer in age to her than Kanao, maybe even older, and quite possibly physically stronger. It’s possible they were trained under Flower Breathing cultivators and still used that Breath, which would have given Kanao opportunities to learn by watching.  That said, Shinobu doesn’t mention or think back to her Tsuguko often, and they never appear in Kanao’s flashbacks, though their deaths are some of the little pieces that strengthen her resolve to slay demons (she seems to care more about how her pseudo-sisters’ families were killed by them). My guess is that Shinobu made a clear divide between family and work, so as to protect the little girls from getting attached to more people who were likely to be taken away from them. Likely, her Tsuguko and the Butterfly Mansion girls resided in separate spaces and had very little interaction, and their Pillar/Tsuguko relationship was kept very formal so they could all focus on their demon slaying goals (albeit they were probably fond of each other anyway, signified by the butterfly hairpins). 

In that two year period, the following events occur in roughly this order: 

Rengoku become a Pillar (around age 18 or 19, and since he was raised practicing Flame Breathing he probably finished the Final Selection around age 12 or 13, so it clearly took him a more normal period of time to become a Pillar. But, despite being naturally gifted with strength his mother recognized, this drives home how hard he needed to work to overcome a perceived lack of “talent.”)

Iguro becomes a Pillar (around age 19 or 20, so he likely had worked at it a long time)

Aoi passes the Final Selection and quits the sword (thereby leaving Shinobu able to leave most of the hospital and household work to her since she’s no longer training), Muichirio becomes a Pillar (around age 12 or 13, genius-level speed at attaining Pillarhood)

Mitsuri becomes a Pillar (around age 18 or 19--a friend, yay! Also someone who became a Pillar way faster than normal.)

On these note, please also me to jump backwards a few years to when Kanae was still alive. Uzui had to have been a Pillar by at least age 18, but given the state of Ubuyashiki’s illness, probably a lot earlier than that, and he probably didn’t take very long to become a Pillar after entering the Corp. Since Giyuu was already a Pillar in Sanemi’s flashback, then he attained Pillarhood by, at the very oldest, age 17, so it took him four years or less. Interesting that in all these four or more years he’s been convinced the position is vacant, there’s no one else who performs Pillar-worthy achievement in the Corp’s most widely used Breath style. That really drives home the difference between the Pillars and the average cannon fodder. (Also worth noting, the Kamaboko Squad’s progression seems to fall somewhere in the middle; right to the very end the Taisho Secrets state how Tanjiro was still far from mastering Hinokami Kagura.)

At late 17 or age 18, two events occur: 

Shinobu begins filling her body with poison for the sake of exacting revenge, knowing she will likely be eaten (she began about a year before the Pillar Training arc)

Kanao sneaks out to the Final Selection of her own will and with self-studied Flower Breathing, officially becomes a member of the Corp. Shinobu worries Kanao was just doing this because it’s what everyone around her does, as Kanao cannot express that she’s built her own hatred for demons. 

Shinobu makes Kanao her Tsuguko almost right away, making the following changes (conjecture in italics):

Teaching her proper Breathing and sword technique (and the little girls witness her quick progress with blowing up gourds)

Instructing her very simply just to focus on cutting on demons’ heads so that she doesn’t get caught up in indecision on the battlefield

Censuring Kanao a bit for her choice to go against her sisters’ wishes and take up the sword, for now she risks death and giving the other pseudo-sisters yet another person to grieve. Given the risky nature of their work, Shinobu feels forced to treat her the same strict way she treated her Tsuguko instead of treat her as a sister. Kanao accepts this and goes from treating Shinobu as her sister to treating her as her master (calling her “Shihan” instead of “Shinobu-neesan”).

Over the course of the events of canon, Tanjiro and company spend a very large portion of their time in recovery at the Butterfly Mansion (even if a large portion of that time is spent unconscious), they might as well be pseudo-adoptive little brothers. But, I suspect Shinobu bonds more readily with girls. Also in that time, Kanao speeds up the ranks (she attains Hinoto rank, the 7th of 10 ranks, while Tanjiro & co attain the one above that, Hinoe). Furthermore, thanks to Tanjiro’s influence, Kanao also makes leap and bounds in being able to express herself, like something finally broke through.  This at last leaves Shinobu somewhat relieved, after maybe five years or so since she first adopted Kanao. By that time she is getting anxious about the impending final battles (and her death, which she has deemed inevitable but purposeful), and she tells Kanao the plan. And then Oyakata-sama is like, “heeeey, so I heard you want to be friends with demons, I got you one, her name is Tamayo.” (It’s possible he already told her he was planning to get Tamayo’s help and wanted her cooperation, but he didn’t actually approach Tamayo about it until after Pillar Training started (though by Kimetsu logic, it’s highly possible that the crow talking to Tamayo took place much earlier than when it was presented). I gotta wonder how quickly they worked to combine their research and if the other girls in the mansion had any idea who Tamayo and Yushiro were.

And then, at age 18 (or likely 19 given the progression of the series and very lengthy recovery periods, heck maybe even 20), Douma. Shinobu dies, Kanao switches back to calling her Shinobu-neesan instead of Shihan, Kanae’s butterfly hairpin which Kanao wore breaks in battles, Shinobu exacts her revenge on Douma while her efforts against Muzan are also in motion and then she reunites with Kanae and her parents in spirit, and Kanao wears Shinobu’s butterfly hairpin in the final showdown and then she makes Shinobu the surprise hero in the surprise final battle to save Tanjiro. It was a really long night, and a really short, busy life. 

[moribundanchor]

The Pelle/Dani Receipts, Post Six: Dani’s Birthday Plot

[tents fingers]

Now, Pelle finally has Dani all to himself. Yessssss. And he wastes exactly NO TIME passing to her an unfolded piece of paper he’s been keeping tucked away, with a nose scrunch (I’m sorry, it’s adorable) and a soft, surprise “Hey. Happy birthday.” Yes, Dani, someone remembered. Actually, someone spent a good deal of time carefully drawing a beautifully realized pencil portrait of you, complete with a flower crown and runes. Someone has been thinking about you kind of a lot, girlfriend of someone’s friend. How do you think he drew that? From memory? Do you think he has pictures of you? Anyway, Dani is thrilled and surprised and just so happy, which is also kind of telling. Real talk: he has effectively cornered her and privately given her a fairly personal gift, which he will encourage her to keep secret (more on that in a second). If she weren’t receptive, it could be creepy or at least awkward. If she weren’t into it, can you imagine how weird the rest of the festival could be? And this is the first day. But you are into it, aren’t you, Dani?

“It’s just something I do for birthdays,” Pelle smiles, and then he hesitates, as though the thought has just occurred to him. “Maybe it’s not appropriate?” Okay, Pelle, sweetie, forgiving the fact that were you actually concerned about whether it was appropriate to give her this, you probably would have mentioned it to Christian and/or not taken scrupulous care to give it to her on the downlow, why wouldn’t it be appropriate to give this gift? Because it could be construed as romantic, of course. Because it is pretty darn romantic. This is how I see you, Dani. But in asking Dani whether it’s appropriate, master manipulator Pelle is using the rhetorical device of apophasis, suggesting something by not suggesting it, basically, “Here’s a romantic thing, Dani. Do you mind? It’s not romantic.” SURE, PELLE. And then he suggests that they keep it “just between us.” Okay, Pelle, so if it’s an appropriate gift, offered purely in the spirit of friendship, no big, you’d do it for Ingemar or Josh, why keep it secret? His rhetorical moves here swing from denial to affirmation, throwing out mixed signals like a motherfucker to both assure Dani of his feelings and continue to provide plausible deniability. 

But then, Dani gamely accepts his terms, agreeing to keep the portrait between them...like that's no big deal. Consider for a moment what is implicit there. Christian can’t know. Why can’t Christian know? Is it because Christian is unusually jealous? There’s no evidence of that; he just left his girl alone with Pelle. It’s because this is the first (that we know of) exchange in an emotional affair, and while Pelle has given her plenty of plausible deniability, Dani isn’t even tentative about it. Yes, this is our secret. Remember how happy she was talking to Pelle on the couch in New York.

Then Dani, smiling as genuinely as she only does for Pelle, confides in him that Christian forgot anyway. So, not only does she alleviate Pelle of any suggestion of inappropriateness--which is less accepting that it isn’t a romantic gift and more that she tacitly accepts the gift with all its implications--she directly compares Pelle remembering her birthday to Christian forgetting it. This moment gets glossed over in favor of Pelle’s much more overt seduction of Dani, but please notice: Dani is comfortable with admitting something that personal about her relationship with Christian to Pelle. If he were just an acquaintance, if he were closer to Christian than Dani, why would she tell him that? It would be embarrassing to her and awkward for him as Christian’s buddy. Exact words: “Christian forgot anyway so this [portrait] is amazing.” Christian forgot, you remembered, 1 point to Team Hårga. Not to mention telegraphing your relationship woes to a man who just gave you a romantic gift is a considerably less subtle signal than Pelle’s apophasis. We’re not suggesting that Dani is unambiguously, consciously, deliberately lighting her signal fire for Pelle here...but witness. The signal fire done got lit. 

One more important bit about this scene. As we will point out over and over, Dani mirrors Pelle and the other Hårgans a lot, but also notice that when Dani shares that Christian forgot, Pelle perfectly mirrors Dani’s stunned/upset “oh” when he failed to condole her on the couch in New York. Like her “oh,” Pelle’s clunks loudly to the floor between them, interrupting their whole ambiguously flirty groove, but, for Dani/Christian severance purposes, it’s important he does this. Constitutionally empathetic as he is, Pelle could easily buffer the awkwardness of the moment, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything to help Dani rationalize Christian forgetting. He simply reflects back to her discomfort and shock that Christian could be so callous of her feelings, leaving Dani to inadequately flail for excuses. In the end, she can’t excuse him, and so she re-ups her appreciation for Pelle’s gift once again, but she will leave that scene not only knowing Pelle cares, but having been forced to acknowledge, if only to herself, that Christian apparently doesn’t. Nice work, Mr. Pelle.

But Pelle is not done. Not our soft sweet cultboy. Skipping ahead to Pelle showing everyone the Youth House, he takes Christian aside at his first opportunity. We aren’t privy to a lot of his conversation, as the camera follows Dani to the wall of portraits of the May Queens, but we do catch the very end, up close and out of focus, as Dani also seems to key in on their talking covertly. Christian is aghast, as Pelle is telling him that he has forgotten Dani’s birthday. He asks Pelle if Dani said anything. And this is when Pelle tells one of his very few direct lies in all of Midsommar, assuring Christian that Dani didn’t mention it. This is important. Ari Aster blurs a lot of what Pelle knows when, but he wants us to know something unambiguously here, a rarity for this film: this isn’t a kindness gone awry. Pelle is setting Christian up. [grabs megaphone] PELLE IS SETTING CHRISTIAN UP. When Dani interrupts them with a question, Pelle nods and gestures significantly toward the bed before joining her, showing Christian something we can’t see.

As Pelle explains the May Queen dance competition, Christian gathers himself and then he asks Dani if she can join him outside, hiding something behind his back. Cue off-key happy birthday serenade and Christian trying to light a candle with a bad lighter. The cake, candle, and lighter could only have been provided by Pelle. That is presumably what he’s pointing out to Christian on the bed before he moves over to Dani by the May Queen photographs. It’s orchestrated to be obvious to Dani that Pelle is the real person behind the gesture, because Christian would have had no opportunity to arrange it. And of course, she saw them talking right before. After Pelle’s thoughtfulness, it will be obvious to her, and Pelle’s cover-story of arranging this to save Christian’s forgetful hide just makes it all the more apparent that he forgot. So Pelle might look like he tried to be a good friend to Christian, but he’s clearly presenting himself as a much better friend, maybe more, to Dani. 

We also headcanon that Pelle made the lighter intentionally bad by emptying most of the fluid, thus making Christian’s insincere gesture all the shittier. The fact that he has to flounder with the bad lighter just underlines that he hasn’t prepared at all. Meanwhile, in the background, several Hårgan women sway and soothe a baby, foreshadowing the way Dani will be comforted when Christian betrays her in the Maja impregnating ritual.

For more, click on The Pelle/Dani Receipts Masterpost

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello! I haven't really been in Johnlock scene, but I suddenly had a MIGHTY NEED for mutual pining between the two, and your fic recs delivered in the best possible way. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing so much about these two! (and now it seems I'm lost to Johnlock, send help, but not really, this is awesome)

Hi Nonny!!

AHhhhh thank you for your kind words about my lists!!! I’m so happy you enjoy!!

You’re in luck, my friend!! I have a Part 2 list of my Mutual pining fics with enough to start a new list, so here we are!! Also, if you’re interested in exclusive pining, I’ve a part 2 to my Pining Sherlock list in its final stages of cleanup, so keep an eye out for that one!! <3 Enjoy!!

MUTUAL PINING Pt. 2

See also:

Mutual Pining Pt 1 

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Pining John

One Sided Pining

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Five and Ones, Drinking, Pining, Second Person POV Sherlock, Armchair Sex, Cracky and Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (NR (T), 3,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4 / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock POV, Love Confessions, Drunk Sherlock / Sober John, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil) – He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want 221b Baker Street to be nothing more than rest stop John returns to on his journeys between women. He doesn’t want to play co-parent if Rosie is going to be snatched away from him and placed in the arms of whatever nameless woman du jour John lands on next. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w., 2 Ch. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: "So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the American CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?" Part 12 of Tumblr Collection

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he's moved back. He's on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It's unopened. John's face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock's study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn't entirely mind.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Sentenced by SarahKnight (T, 44,777 w., 30 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Alternate S4 Canon, Drama, Angst, Pining, Feelings are Hard) – Virtual series 4 opener. Sherlock's in prison being targeted by a murderer, John's married to a pregnant assassin and Moriarty's back.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

what's your opinion on negaduck's character as a whole? like what drastic changes there were to him between the OG show and in the comics? like how he has more psychotic and blood-thirsty in the comics? (is what I'm assuming)

I've answered a similar question before about my opinions of the character, with it being mostly pertaining to me having liked the original and liking the direction we're going with Jim Starling 😗

Mostly, the main issue I have with the comic portrayal is that he shreds Mr. Banana Brain completely unprompted, aside from QuackerJack asking him to spill the beans about Darkwing Duck's secret identity (that itself is also a little forced, because at no real point in the cartoon has QuackerJack really expressed interest in finding out Darkwing's double life there, and has had plenty of opportunity before to take Darkwing's mask off himself. Heck, he could have gone down to the Tea and Doilies Society in "Days of Blunder" and just seen Darkwing unmasked there, he knew that Darkwing was working there temporarily, so he had plenty of chances if he really wanted to)

Sure, Negaduck is definitely a bully, but he usually has to be provoked into harrasing his underlings otherwise he'll just dip out and leave once the caper is done, like he tried to in "Life, the Negaverse and Everything" before Megavolt, QuackerJack, Liquidator and Bushroot decided to follow after him. He's go no problem with intimidating them and making them scared, but I should probably note that he was at least generous enough to equally divide up control of the city to them in "Just Us Justice Ducks" in exchange for keeping all the loot they had pilfered (an action the Fearsome was not going to agree with without a fight, but still, it was certainly an interesting thing for him to willingly offer them the city in exchange for the cash)

So it's very strange that QuackerJack was the only one to follow after him to ask questions about why Negaduck had taken an uncharacteristic amount of his take when we've seen him at least be willing to pay them fairly in the past.

Absolutely no reason for QuackerJack to be the only one to tag along, when the group works together as one unit. Absolutely no reason for Negaduck to have grabbed Mr. Banana Brain to tear apart and throw back in QuackerJack's face

Except for

Because the plot of the comics doesn't set off unless this event has occurred.

QuackerJack would not have kidnapped his friends after they had to split ways after he basically broke after Mr. Banana Brain was destroyed, and after Negaduck directly attacks Darkwing's home, prompting Darkwing to go off the grid to hide his family from danger, leaving crime to run amuck on St. Canard, prompting the Crimebots to be deployed by Taurus Bulba to wipe out any manner of crime (including something as simple as music piracy), and gather up everyone to work at QuackWerks and ONLY QuackWerks, creating a "Villian Rehabilitation Program" in the process that completely fails to work for QuackerJack because it wasn't really there to help reintegrate the villains back into society as fruitful citizens, but to just keep them so beat down and exhausted from overworking at the company that they had no energy to do anything at all... which is why QuackerJack snapped again and went on that rampage.

All of this, ALL of this hinges on Negaduck destroying Mr. Banana Brain. None of the main plot of the comics could have probably happened like it did if there hadn't been some fail safe put in place that would have prevented QuackerJack from even agreeing to work at a desk job.

They had to break the characters to make this major event possible.

I don't even think Negaduck even knows what Mr. Banana Brain is for and why that's important to QuackerJack, he's probably seen the doll at least twice.

They made Negaduck be a monster just for the sake of being cruel for no reason. Considering that Mr. Banana Brain has been described before as a "sawdust filled doll" (although the comics show him with fiberfil), which is a particular retro style, one can assume there's a very kind of fabric texture as well, that means a lot of effort goes into shredding that by hand, right in QuackerJack's face, while subsequently yelling at QuackerJack about how he's not important enough to know who Darkwing is.

It's mean-spirited, and out of character for Negaduck's style of tormenting and bullying.

He's way more direct in telling them how much he thinks they're idiots, and doesn't necessarily paint himself as a paragon of nastiness, just that he's thinks they're a bunch of losers and has better things to do than waste his time with them. He doesn't really explain why he thinks he's better than them.

Heck, Negaduck is virtually the same as Darkwing in terms of ego and "Time and Punishment" shows that if Darkwing didn't have any inhibitions and morals, he'd be just as capable of taking control of St. Canard in a manner similar to how Negaduck controls Nega-St. Canard.

That said, I especially want to note how in the past, QuackerJack has specifically tried hard to get on Negaduck's good side as both a good little lackey, and even attempting to form some kind of friendship (such as loudly expressing disappointment when Negaduck doesn't show interest in "wanting to hang out after a caper")

QuackerJack has consistently tried to be social with Negaduck, despite the fact that this is usually met with threats and at one point, Negaduck just knocks him to the ground and steps on him like a doormat while trying to get out of his line of sight.

Neither of these guys are "UwU Harmless Widdle Babies", but I really doubt that QuackerJack would have been disarmed enough to let Mr. Banana Brain be yanked out of his hands, and I doubt that Negaduck will would have straight up shredded the doll when it was probably more in character for him to just use MBB as leverage to keep QuackerJack's attention while verbally tearing him down, then perhaps chuck the doll back at him or just off the beaten path to have QuackerJack scrambling over the doll while he makes a getaway with the loot.

Heck, I would have even accepted the scenario of throwing Mr. Banana Brain towards the streets as a diversion to leave, only for there to have been like a street sweeper or something to have accidentally ran over the doll and chewed MBB up good, or a dog mistakes it for a chew toy or MBB lands in the bay and gets swallowed by a shark (and sometime later spat back up), effectively causing QuackerJack to be traumatized and THEN we have the comic plot, that would have been more in line with established canon and style.

I'm going to keep going on and on until the end of time about what happened to Mr. Banana Brain because Mr. Banana Brain is treated as his own entity separate from QuackerJack, and we're going to have to acknowledge his emotional importance to QuackerJack, and Mr. Banana Brain is what my family would call a "Woobie", which is a term we collectively use to describe a security item, usually a blanket but for someone like me, it refers to a well worn and well loved plush toy. A more popular term would be "Comfort Item".

You don't mess with someone's woobie just to be a jerk, no matter who's writing you in a comics. That's just as bad as taking candy from a baby. 👀

... Gosh, I think the sun's coming up, I should think about going to sleep now. 😅

[nikxation]

A Close Encounter

Summary:

All Stan knows is that, if you see huge red eyes staring at you from the brush, look away, turn around, and run as fast if you can, assuming it’s not already too late.

So, when he finds himself face to face with a creature easily three times his size with glowing red eyes, he realizes he may be in one of those “too late” kinds of situations.

Notes:

Written for @buggy-mars for the 2020 Secret Santa exchange! You wanted mullet Stan angst, so here ya go! Hope you enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

Find it here on AO3.

Beware of glowing red eyes in the woods.

It’s one of the first things Stan learns when he starts making his presence more known around the small town of Gravity Falls, though he learns it mostly through indirect means (because while Ford had been here for over a decade, Stan has barely been here a month, and asking questions might draw a certain amount of suspicion and scrutiny that he can’t afford).

Most people would call it eavesdropping, but he likes to think of it as “directed listening” instead.

It’s hushed, frightened whispers in the back booth of the diner between two buff-looking guys holding steaming cups of coffee in shaking hands.

It’s the short exchange of words between two woodsmen as they pass each other in the street, one warning the other away from a certain area of the forest for the day.

It’s a woman sending her kids to go play and warning them to be careful even as they roll their eyes and run off, young and invincible against the dangers of the world.

Of all the things he’s heard, the red eyes seem to be the thing that everyone, without exception, knows to steer clear of at all costs.

Something about visions of nightmares or poisonous quills or just pure, unadulterated terror, he’s not sure. They don’t talk about it in as many words, circling the topic like two boxers in the ring, sizing one another up, neither willing to make the first move, to say the wrong thing, to admit too much. They dance around it, never getting close enough to give him any solid answers before jumping to another subject altogether.

All he knows is that, if you see huge red eyes staring at you from the brush, look away, turn around, and run as fast if you can, assuming it’s not already too late.

So, when he finds himself face to face with a creature easily three times his size with glowing red eyes, he realizes he may be in one of those “too late” kinds of situations.

~ ~ ~

The sleet is coming down hard as Stan trudges through the melting snow, shovel in one hand and worn map in the other as he aims towards another area of the woods that he hasn’t already scribbled out in pencil. The sun is finding its way down towards the treeline, which means he doesn’t have a lot of time today before it gets too dark to be able to effectively hunt for the other journals. Plus, he has more tours to prep for tomorrow, so he’ll have to make sure he leaves himself enough time to get everything set up again for that. But he plans to take advantage of whatever dying rays of sunlight he can.

He feels dirty, zipped up tight in one of Ford’s jackets that fits him a little too tight in the arms, one he found in some back closet when he finally started going through the man’s things. But there’s only so much he can do in a worn-out hoodie in this weather, and he has more important things to worry about than how wrong it feels to be wearing his missing (not dead) brother’s clothes.

At least his hair is keeping his neck warm, so this god-awful hairstyle is finally good for something other than looking terrible.

He looks down at the map again, glancing back up to see if he can find some kind of marker he should have left for himself to know where he left off, whether it be a slash in some tree bark or a pile of rocks in the snow. Based on the map, he should be getting close to something, but at this rate, the trees are starting to thin out as he makes his way into more rocky and mountainous terrain, so he can’t quite remember what he should be looking for.

A glance back down at the map, and he realizes that the sleet has begun to smear the ink and graphite on the page. He curses under his breath, shoves it into his pocket, and looks around frantically, spotting a shadow in a rocky face that might just be a cave that he can duck into for a moment, long enough to get out of the wet cold for a moment and reorient himself to his surroundings.

He was right in assuming it was a cave, finding himself in a small dark cavern that doesn’t seem to go more than a few yards deep and a few feet above his head. He doesn’t bother getting out his flashlight to check that assumption; at the mouth of the cave, he gets enough light to see what he needs to see, and he needs to save as much battery power as he can.

He also doesn’t plan to stay long.

It’s quiet save for the pitter-patter of the sleet on the hard ground and the sound of his own breathing echoing around the rock walls.

The map is a bit soggy when he pulls it back out, and he tries his best to hold it as gently as possible to stop it from ripping or falling apart on him. He knows he could get back to the house from here without it, but it’s his only record of his search, and he’d hate to have to start from scratch. Which is why when one of the corners flops down and tears itself, he curses again, this time a bit more forcefully as he tries to hold the paper back together, willing it to not get any worse.

It’s at that exact moment that something behind him shifts, the sound of scratching on the rock followed by a low, animalistic growl that makes the hairs on his neck stand completely upright, his whole body going rigid.

The possibility occurs to him that maybe the cave was deeper than he thought it was, or that maybe, just maybe, there was something big in the way stopping him from seeing all the way back.

It also occurs to him that maybe it wasn’t his own breathing that he had been hearing.

His whole body is frozen stiff as he waits to see what happens next, too afraid to turn around, too afraid to make a run for it, trapped in place like a deer in headlights.

He hears the thing stand, claws scraping against the stone ground as it does, footsteps heavy as it slowly moves forward, closer to him.

He should run. He should really run. Running would be a very good idea.

There must be a disconnect somewhere in his brain because no matter how hard he begs his legs to run, they stand frozen in place, trapping him in the mouth of this cave as whatever is behind him lumbers closer and closer with each breath.

And then it stops, everything falling deathly silent again, and he can all but feel the thing standing behind him, and everything in him is screaming to get the hell out of there right now, but he still can’t move.

Stan doesn’t know how long he stands there waiting, probably only a handful of seconds if he had to guess, even if it feels like an eternity. He swallows slowly, his heart slamming in his chest, in his ears, as he finally gains enough control of himself to turn, ever so slowly to see what exactly he’s dealing with here.

Two red eyes look down on him from scarcely a few feet away, and that’s all his brain can register outside of “big” and “huge teeth” and “run goddamnit run!”. But he still can’t move, and the thing lets out another low growl, this one much more pointed than the last, a clear warning. But his bones are somewhere between Jell-o and stone right now, his throat tight like he’s trying not to breathe even though the thing is looking right at him and it’s too late you should have run when you had the chance—

Its eyes flash, the sudden shift from burning red to bright yellow jolting him like a bucket of cold water to the face, and he has no idea what to make of it, and he’s still stuck in place right in front of this thing that’s making no moves towards him, his eyes locked on it like he’s waiting to see a reaction from it, waiting for it to make the first move.

And then, the yellow fades, the eyes returning to that same unnatural red, and he gets the vague feeling that something happened, he’s just not sure what, as the thing takes a small step back from him and just… stares.

It’s something of a stand-off, and he gets the impression that, whatever it just tried with the little glowing eyes trick didn’t quite work the way it expected. That this thing that could kill him with one lazy swipe of its arm (leg? Hand? Paw? What the heck even is this thing?) has yet to make an aggressive move against him for whatever reason and has done nothing but stare at him, and he has no idea what to do with that.

And this, whatever this is, feels fundamentally different than even a few seconds ago. And he’s not sure how that even makes sense given that he’s dealing with some hulking creature and not anything remotely human or rational. And yet, he swears the thing went from trying to intimidate him to… studying him? Like it’s reassessing how to handle him?

He must be losing his damn mind.

The thing regards him for another excruciatingly long moment before breathing out what sounds suspiciously like a hmph and then taking a step towards him. He braces, arms coming up, his legs still unhelpfully locked into place as he expects the attack to finally come. And the thing pauses, its hackles momentarily raising and a quiet growl rumbling in its throat for barely a second before it settles, pushes past him and…

Leaves.

It just… leaves.

In the dying sunlight and falling sleet, Stan gets his first full glimpse of the massive creature as it climbs free of the cave and stretches back out, easily towering over the cave entrance by many feet. Its whole body is covered in course hair that almost resembles quills, mushrooms of some sort growing from its back and shoulders. It stands up on its two hind feet (its claws are almost as long as his arm holy shit), seems to finish stretching itself out, drops back to all fours, and then dashes off into the woods and disappears into the darkness.

It takes him a minute to fully process what happened, for the adrenaline coursing through him to finally die out and the weight of the fear and relief to settle in. It’s enough to make his legs finally give out from under him as he sinks to the hard stone floor, the reality of how close he was to death worming its way into his bones like an old forgotten friend.

And yet…

A strained laugh breaks free from his throat, the sound oddly choked as he leans back against the rock wall behind him, his chest aching something fierce.

He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he just had an encounter with the creature the entire town is afraid of, and he made it out unscathed. He’s sure of it, in the same way that he’s sure his brother is alive somewhere, an unquestionable kind of feeling deep in his bones that’s the only real thing he has any faith in anymore. He knows that, somehow, he got lucky, and that thing let him be for whatever reason. He doesn’t know why or how, or what the yellow glowing eyes thing was or why it seemed to not really care about him after that (then it took a step back, so was it afraid of him? No that’s not possible, why would it be afraid of him?).

He sits there a while, lost in his own head, wondering what exactly he’s missing, why the entire town is afraid of something that ultimately decided to leave him alone. Wondering whether it was luck or something else entirely.

He doesn’t have an answer.

He’ll probably never have one, if he’s being honest with himself.

It’s well after dark by the time he musters enough energy to stumble back to the empty house that isn’t his, peel off the soggy coat that doesn’t fit him right, climb into his makeshift bed on the couch, and fall into a restless sleep to the sound of the heavy tapping of sleet on the windowpane.

[mintchocolatechipnut]

the boys in a haunted house

ft. shinsou hitoshi, todoroki shouto & kirishima eijirou

Note: This came to me in a vision... okay not really but SEVENTEEN’s GoSe episode on the ghost really inspired me to write this. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: fluff, real comedic geniuses here, vague understanding of haunted houses

Word count: 2.3k

SHINSOU HITOSHI

Now Shinsou isn’t really afraid of anything in particular, as in he’s not rattled by jump scares in movies

Instead, he has a penchant for psychological thrillers, because as much as he doesn’t use his quirk for villainous motives, he does like to fuck with people in general

So when you ask to go to a haunted house with him, he’s pretty indifferent, only letting out a non-committal hum as you tell him how this new set has been getting rave reviews from your friends

When you get there, Shinsou’s reminded of the time his class set up a haunted house for the cultural festival, and wonders if he could glean more ideas from this experience should they decide to hold it again this year lmao

As you enter, you’re relieved to know that Shinsou’s interested to at least a certain extent (but for the wrong reasons lol)

When the first jumpscare appears, Shinsou doesn’t so much as flinch, even as he feels your fingernails dig into his arm where you clutch him

He just stares, as if memorising the appearance of the zombie/mummy/ghost and wondering how he could replicate the look with the limited budget his class had for the festival

You didn’t hear this from me, but some of the haunted house actors were creeped out by Shinsou himself

I mean, his purple hair sticking up all ways like that of a mad scientist, coupled with his piercing unnerving stare, while the bags under his eyes carry even more bags and stand out against the pallor of his skin? Boy is setting himself up to look like a real zombie or vampire here

Anyway, if his s/o is more on the timid side, he doesn’t mind letting them hold onto him in any way as they walk through the set

Clutching his arm so tight he wonders if his skin will break under their hold, or the hem of his sleeve being tugged so hard it might tear, Shinsou just likes that you can depend on him and that he makes you feel safe

Though do not put it past him to mess with you even though you’re afraid

He won’t be pushing you toward the ghosts despite your shrieks and wails, or giving you a jumpscare of his own while in the house, but since he likes psychological thrillers so much, he’ll play a prank once the experience is over

‘Gee, Y/N, did you see that guy? He wouldn’t leave you alone at all’

‘... wait what do you mean’

‘You know, the one who followed you around with a knife in his hand? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. Oh wait, you didn’t? Could’ve been my imagination then. Just it was so vivid...’

You’re scared shitless when you talk to the owner and there’s no such ghost, while Shinsou stands a ways behind you and winks conspiratorially at the owner

Cue you hanging onto his arm even on the way home, but Shinsou doesn’t mind one bit

Seems like he’s up for a night of suffocation where you’ll be holding onto him like your life depended on it

Maybe then he’ll tell you it was all a joke. Or that the man with the knife seemed to have followed you home...

Whatever he’ll do, he knows he’ll have fun as long as it’s with you (and as long as you don’t get too mad and kick him out of your room)

Now, if his s/o isn’t easily scared and is more of the playful sort, he’d like doing gag commentary with you as the ghosts show up one by one

Whether your laughter is a coping mechanism, or just the result of plain unadulterated fun, Shinsou’s having fun nonetheless

If you’re really playful, and Shinsou’s feeling it too, you two cook up a plan to scare the ghosts together

While it’s only semi-successful (in which you scare one or two of them and actually earn some human-like screams from them), the both of you can’t stop cackling on the way home

Overall, Shinsou has fun, and he isn’t afraid to tell you so

‘Maybe we should do it again next time, and make a record of how many we can scare individually’

You: ‘BET’

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Given his upbringing, it’s no secret that Todoroki has never had the chance to do things normal teenagers do

So naturally his first reaction to you suggesting a visit to a haunted house is pure curiosity

He knows they exist when class 1-C did it for the cultural festival but he didn’t get the chance to visit it the last time, so why not now?

As you tell him about it, Todoroki’s already whipping his phone out to do some research beforehand, but he relented when you tell him it’s better if it’s a surprise

He doesn’t show it on his face but he’s infinitely excited to be there, in a ‘I have no idea what to expect’ kind of way as he watches you buy tickets

Cue him thinking the whole thing is like the simulations in class and actually creates flames in his hands so you can see clearer in the dark

You have to tell him amidst your laughter that he’s not supposed to do that, and he’s bewildered alright, but he complies

Now Todoroki isn’t a big reactor by any means but since you know him so well, you can tell how the haunted house affects him

Like, he’ll pretty much react the same way he did during the test of courage during summer camp last time in that he’ll flinch silently, but you can see in the dim light how his eyes widen a minuscule fraction and how his shoulders tense up during jumpscares

It’s weird, because as a future hero nothing should faze him, but even when he’s expecting to be scared it does nothing to stop him from actually being scared

Halfway through his hand would automatically reach for yours,  and when more jumpscares occur he’ll tighten his grip on it

His grip varies; when he senses a jumpscare his fingers will curl around yours a little more but when he’s actually frightened expect a violent squeeze of your hand, but nothing too painful

If you’re the timid sort, Todoroki’s glad that you feel the same way in some sorts, and feels reassured that it’s the normal way to react to such things as haunted houses (poor baby doesn’t have a clue about social norms, so he’s always questioning whether he’s weird for being the way he is and not being typical in his reactions—the answer is, of course, that he’s loved either way)

If you’re the unfazed sort, Todoroki will admire you as you march through the haunted house hand in hand, his gaze on your small but strong back as you move towards the exit. How you don’t react to anything, and instead even exchange pleasantries with some of the ghosts makes him see you in a whole new light

And then when you’re finally out in the open, where you return to your usual caring self and ask if he’s okay, Todoroki thinks that he couldn’t fall in love with you more than he already has

Spoiler alert: he’s wrong

When you cheekily tell him you’ll protect the next time you visit a haunted house, he buries his face in your shoulders while he hugs you to him tight

‘Thank you.’ You can hear him whisper beside your ear, ‘but let’s not do that again for a while.’

If you’re an absolute horror junkie, you’ll try to convince Todoroki to visit with you again

If he’s still hesitant, you opt to getting him used to jumpscares by watching horror movies together

Sometimes Todoroki can’t help but question what you find so fun about them when you yourself squeal in half-horror and half-delight when you get scared by something on the screen

But if the way you cling to his side is any indication, he likes it anyway

Pretty soon he does get used to jumpscares, in that his heightened senses from all his hero training lead him to predict the right moments where jumpscares occur

Cue him telling you ‘There’s a jumpscare at this part’ and two seconds later a monstrous face appears on screen

At first you’re in awe at his sudden ability only after watching like three films, but pretty soon it gets old and you have to break it to him that it ruins the show for you

Your heart nearly melts when he murmurs in a low voice, ‘I thought I’d just warn you in advance so you wouldn’t be scared.’

In that moment you’re eternally grateful to have someone as awkward and kind as Todoroki as your boyfriend who constantly looks out for your well-being and does his best in making you happy

You kindly explain to him what makes horror movies so good and why jumpscares are supposed to be unpredictable, but not before leaning in to whisper a ‘thank you’ and plant a kiss to his cheek

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

Now Kirishima’s usually game for anything you want to try, but just so you know, he wouldn’t exactly consider a haunted house as an ideal date spot

What’s so romantic about getting scared by a bunch of ghosts who are also paid actors in a small dark space? But hey, if it’s for fun and you want to, why not

But just because he’s the glue of class 1-A, he’ll ask if he can bring some of his friends along since ‘it’ll be more fun that way’

The thing with Kirishima is if he sees other people enjoying this kind of thing he’d like to invite them, and when he can’t picture something being just between the two of you he’s likely to call other people to join

You might be a little disappointed and exasperated about it, but knowing where he’s coming from you can’t really get mad at him

Though if you’re truly bothered about it, just say the word and he’ll change

Sweetie will do anything for you as long as it’s within reason and he knows where you’re coming from

But anyway, you’re not against the idea of having the rest of the Bakusquad join you, since they’re a fun-loving bunch and having them at a haunted house is bound to be ten times funnier

So there’s Bakugou in his usual black skull shirt and Sero and Kaminari, while Mina’s ready to snap away with her camera so she can get some funny reaction pics out of the boys

While lining up for tickets you’re surprised by Kirishima learning in from behind you and whispering into your ear: ‘Don’t worry babe, I’ll protect you from anything you find scary in there!’

Heat immediately rises to your cheeks when you think about the utter cheeseball he is, and when you turn around to face him Kirishima has his trademark toothy grin on his face as he looks at you

How could you even be disappointed about this not being a date when Kirishima is still being his caring, romantic self?

Mina, who’s behind the both of you in line, immediately scrunches up her face in mock disgust. ‘Ew, you two,’ she says in mock disgust and you know she’d heard Kirishima. ‘Get out of here and get a room.’ The three of you end up laughing it off anyway.

When you step into the haunted house, Kirishima naturally takes your hand in his, and an immediate sense of safety washes over you when you feel his hand encapsulating yours

Going through the haunted house with Kirishima is an absolute hitch, as he knows just how to react and still have fun with you

Kirishima isn’t the kind to be scared easily, but he always acts scared alongside you because he doesn’t want you to feel alone in your fear

Jokes on him because you can tell exactly when he’s scared or not, because laughing is his coping mechanism for these things

The louder he laughs, the more scared he is, and he laughs a fair bit while you’re walking through the haunted house

When he really gets frightened though, he accidentally activates his quirk so you feel his skin harden a little in your hand

Just as quickly he retracts his hand and forgets his fear in favour of worrying over whether he hurt you, the sweetheart that he is

But the highlight of the night is really when Bakugou nearly blasted Kaminari to smithereens when he appeared behind him wrapped in Sero’s tape like a mummy, but not without Mina’s acid melting through the tape so he looked like he’d just escaped from his ancient sarcophagus

The only reason Bakugou stopped himself from yelling ‘die!’ is when he hears a ‘whey~’ escape from the mummy’s mouth, which is when he drags the ‘mummy’ by the collar out through the exit while the rest of you rush after him in hysterical laughter

Whether it’s because Kaminari instantly sobered up when Bakugou threatens to blow him up, or that Kirishima notices that Bakugou’s palms and forehead are tinged with cold sweat, you all have a great time nonetheless

When you confront Kirishima about purposely faking his fear in front of you, an embarrassed blush immediately overtakes his face

‘I just thought it’d cheer you up, so you wouldn’t focus on your own fear too much,’ he says, and his face turns even redder when you laughingly point out his own tells

‘I guess I really can’t hide anything from you,’ he then smiles after looping his arm with yours on the way back, the Bakusquad squabbling a ways in front of you so they can’t hear his next words that make you swoon. ‘But I wouldn’t have it any other way.’