#LT throwing out thoughts and rambles

[lilacsandthistles]

the smile genuinely is so disturbing for how wide it is

Forever's normal skin only has two pixels for the whole mouth while the slime runs across the entire square the proportions don't match at all and all I can think about is it painfully pulling at the face to be that big. fucking cubito body horror

[neonovember]

Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth. 

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets. 

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion. 

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face. 

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight. 

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing. 

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall. 

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies 

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of  ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done. 

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes 

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin” 

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to” 

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this. 

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands". 

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!” 

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen. 

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet,  confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as  you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach. 

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above. 

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone” 

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you. 

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

[vgilantee]

Having thoughts about PolyTransForce141 meeting reader and like not explicitly telling them they are trans straight away because they want to get to know them and get the general vibe before they bring out that personal information. Imagine how they'd tell reader? Super chill and just drop it into conversation somewhere? A rapid reveal during a wickedly sloppy makeout in a five way session? I just want reader to be so affirming for them, wanting to learn how to be the best partner by understanding each member's unique needs and preferences, just knowing they'd be so good in return..

(I tried keeping this pretty gender neutral but the reader is afab.)

there are two ways it could go

the first, they've all discussed it and when your entrance to the relationship is more serious, more solid, they sit you down much like when they first asked if you'd join, and let you know that hey, they're all trans. you adjust any expectations and wet dreams you have to fit the new anatomy knowledge

the second though, is the more relaxed. dropping it in conversations.

I love the little ramble i wrote for simon so I'm reinserting it here. you're making out with him, grinding on his lap and suddenly realise you aren't feeling a hardening cock. okay, it hurts a little that he doesn't seem to be enjoying it, so you check in. you ask

"hey, are you not into this? not into me? because we can stop it's okay I just... I need to know" and simon is stumbling over himself to let you know

"no, sweetheart, I'm enjoying this, enjoying you. I just can't get hard. got no cock." and he's sliding one of your hands between you, into his pants, and you get to feel his wet cunt and twitching bottom growth. "glad I haven't got one when I'm around you, the wet mess I make o' my boxers is much easier to hide than a boner"

simon is so smug about the fact that that make-out session turned into you eating him out before he had you ride his thigh. the shit eating grin he gives johnny and kyle when they see him walk in clearly having just cum, and you shyly holding his arm

the next you find out about is kyle. gaz just wants to get in before johnny because he knows the scot will have smoke coming out of his ears if he finds out now 2 of them know how you taste.

you're lounging on the sofa, curled up reading or scrolling, and kyle drops on top of you, between your thighs and kissing your sternum while you grumble about him tossing your book/phone.

"know you've played with Simon's cunt, but I promise mine's prettier." you splutter a little at the bluntness before you brain actually clicks to what he's said. "'least let our clits kiss. got something she might like"

it doesn't take long for your shorts and panties to be thrown beside your book, and kyle's thrown not far behind. in the movement of it all, he ends up lying back on the couch, long fingers pulling his lips apart so you can see it, the piercing on the underside of his bottom growth.

"been told it feels like heaven dragged against s clit." and it doesn't take much more than that for your to shift one thigh over gaz's and start grinding your cunt over his, mewling whenever the piercing catches at your clit. it's wet and messy and even more so when kyle sits up, pulling your cunt harder against his while he kisses you. you both ignore the way johnny pitifully whines as he steps into the living room before he's dragged back out by simon.

johnny has no real decorum or tact when he finally gets to bed you. and gets to bed you makes it sound so sweet. no he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom while you playfully pinch at his lovely ass

"nae waiting any more. Lt and gaz had their fun wit' ye and I canne wait. sight o you n kyle's wet cunts haunts me. made me made a mess o mah hand"

the panties you were wearing had better not have been a favourite because they're gone. sides torn so he could drag the fabric harshly over your clit while he removed the damn garment. he positions you easily, sitting you on his face ("sit, bon. if I die under this bonnie cunt, it's a good death. tha's it. all yer weight") where he immediately pulls your clit into his mouth with a strong and wet suck. you catch yourself on his thighs as you fall forward, your eyes zeroing in on his crotch.

you watch for a moment, waiting for the twitch of a cock, and when you don't see it, you quickly slide your hand into his boxers and pinch his clit. you shove his boxers down, barely getting them to his thighs, before you drop, lapping at his cunt. he adjusts, raising his knees to give you better access, and two fingers quickly join your tongue inside of him. johnny lets out a broken moan when your fingers find his labial piercing and give him a light pull. just a nudge but it makes his little cock twitch under your tongue

John has a proper, sit down conversation with you, but mostly because he's had bottom surgery, though he kept his vaginal opening. basically he's got a cock-length clit with a pump*, and kept his vagina.

he wants to tell you this before because he knows you've played with his boys, know your way around a boy-cunt with bottom growth by now, but his is a little different! mostly the same but he can use the pump to have a cock and while he can't cum inside of you (you give a joking pout and he can't help but give your downturned lips a short kiss), he will definitely feel you cum around it.

to "make up for not being able to cum inside", you tell John that after he fucks you, you want to eat him out. he can control everything about it, but you want to feel him cum on your mouth. it's a done deal, you barely finish the sentence before he's grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the bedroom.

~✧

I researched it lightly and there is at least 1 surgery clinic that can do the phalloplasty without a vaginosectomy!! so you can have a cock and a vagina! which is very interesting. I honestly just wanted to get more information on bottom surgery and found that out which is very cool!

*someone pointed out to me I got muddled up, so this is more the simplified version price uses to describe it, not what it actually is!

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello

Okay okay so i have a bit of a silly one. So i have autism and somtimes i will mimic somones accent without knowing it. Can you write a fic for Soap x Reader where he accidentally mimics soaps accent when talking.

N like he gets embarrassed and apologies sooooo much jffjfjjffjfjfjcjf and extra embarrassed because he likes the Scot 👀

Its 4am please excuse if theres any spelling errors

And i hope you have a good day!

Note: Ah, the dreaded draft which I never feel like is enough.

It's short but sweet, I may end up one day doing a part two just to add on to it. This was a cute idea as someone who also mimics accents.

I hope you enjoy it anon <3

(Oh, and the reader doesn't really apologise at all because personally, I feel weird making readers apologise for something he can't control <3)

Content: M! Reader (obv), Fluff, Reader is called Mockingbird (in a cute way)

Summary: Reader mimics Soap's accent, Soap has a hayday.

Mimicry (Soap x M! Reader)

You have been a part of the task force for a bit of time now. Enough time for the group to know that you had a tendency to mimic certain sounds that you heard but that was the length of your mimicry as far as they knew.

The group didn't seem to have issues with the sounds unless it came down to you being louder than you were supposed to be while in the field. It has become a part of their lives and they wouldn't have it any other way.

Soap was the person who started to call you by the nickname 'Mockingbird' and it eventually stuck with everyone as well. He meant it in a joking way, making sure that it didn't harm you in any way, and it kind of just stuck as you started to show a fondness for the nickname.

"Hey, birdie."

This one just made your eyes roll as you rack the weights that you were lifting and sit up on the weight bench.

"That one is a no," you respond, shaking your head which earns a laugh from the Scotsman.

"It was worth the try." He walks over and takes a seat next to you, handing you a fresh water bottle which you eagerly accept and down in a few gulps. He looks over at you as you hand him the bottle back and smiles before throwing it into the nearest garbage bin.

"Nice shot." You hum approvingly before standing up, "Lead the way, I know it's for our daily walk."

The two of you started daily walks about a month ago. Most of the time it was after a long day which left you exhausted and thus not very talkative, which was never a problem for Soap. He loved talking and that was multiplied when he had a good listener such as you.

"And that little dick walked up to him and was like, 'Try me'. Can you believe that? The fucker said that to Ghost! The fucking LT!"

He's been going on like this for an hour, you've barely gotten any words in but you didn't mind much especially since this just meant that you guys got to rest in a scenic spot while he rambled on. Every now and then you responded with one word answers but nothing too big.

He was shaking his head before starting again, "I'm telling ya, these new recruits have an insane amount of confidence and that's fucking 'em over."

You end up nodding, while looking up at the sky.

"Insane that someone would go against Ghost like that." A voice that sounds kinda like yours but with a tinge of a different accent slips out from your mouth. You didn't even realize it at first but when you looked over and saw Soap with a teasing smirk on his face, you immediately knew something slipped out.

You took a moment to regather yourself before narrowing your eyes at the Scotsman, "Shut your mouth."

"I haven't even said anything lad."

"Mhm."

"Just thought I heard a mockingbird around, haven't heard one in a while."

He was cut off by you slapping his shoulder and he just burst out laughing.

"You're an asshole." Your voice mumbles through Soap's laughter, and you start to speed ahead away from the Scottish sergeant.

"Lad, wait! Come back, it's important!"

You turn around with your arms crossed and look at the male and he points to the wooded area, he has a shit eating grin on his face.

"It's birdwatching season."

"Oh fuck off, John"

You threw your hands up in defeat and started walking away before Soap ran up to walk beside you.

He stays silent for a few minutes as they continue to walk back to base before he smiles at you and shrugs,

"Just messing with you, it's nice, really. Just gotta push your buttons a bit."

He bumps his shoulder a bit, causing a smile to spread to your face.

"If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

"Aye aye."

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 6

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You come home with...special guest. (3,4k)

READ ON AO3

previous part || next part

A/N: I am SOOOO sorry uploading it to tumblr took so much time; my internet was in veeery bad place and later on, when it got better, i forgot lmao. also; new aesthetics on the posts, i hope you're gonna like it!! love

Being drunk as hell had its disadvantages.

"You're fuckin' unbelieveable," he said, and it seemed like he was almost disappointed that you asked for extending your adventure with him a bit.

"Come on, Simon." You tugged at his jacket, whining a bit, hoping that's gonna get him on your mercy. "You have to eat too, it's a perfect occasion."

And that was the disadvantage; the urge to eat something unhealthy. You had this desire more often than not, something inevitable on your ride back home. Kebab, McDonalds, Taco Bell, anything unhealthy and quick seemed like the best meal.

It wasn't different the night you were coming home from the gala, Soap still being your personal driver, now listening to your and Simon's ramblings if it was a good idea to drive to the nearest fast food restaurant.

Honestly, if you were him, you'd probably kick the two of you out of the car to sort it out, but Johnny always seemed too invested with drama to just give up so easily. Especially if it was something about his best friend.

"Already ate," he murmured, looking at you. “Can’t you just wait ‘till home?”

“You barely ate, liar. And, it won’t be the same, Riley.” You pointed at him, grinning a little, when he rolled his eyes, scoffing under his nose. Knowing his real surname brought you a lot of fun, considering that it fitted him more than basic “Harris”. “Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna sit here for years.”

“You’re so—”

“—you have somewhere to be, or you just like whining?”

He shook his head. “Whinin’ is my specialty, actually. Johnny, you see somethin’ ‘round us?”

“Right ‘n clear, LT.” Man chuckled, receiving a death glare from his comrade, but you? You were pretty satisfied that he agreed finally considering how hungry you felt, even if you ate something at the military gala.

“Something” was horrendous, though; as drinks were just spectacular, their food was pretty… basic, tasteless? A lot of meat that you certainly didn’t like in portions, meat that was the center of this gala. Maybe it was a preference (or being picky), but some vegetables to it, or something other than meat-centered food wouldn’t kill them to prepare, yeah?

At least, you thought this way. You were more creative with preparing food than they were.

Fifteen minutes later, you arrived; at this point, you didn’t even pay attention where you landed, what fast food restaurant it was, you just went outside before Simon did, hungry and tired of this evening, even if you were happy with you going. After all, every chance to get closer to this giant was a win.

That hurry could be your first mistake, since you didn’t even notice how your dress got stuck between the car's door when you closed it. The outcome? Ripped material, almost to your upper thigh.

“Fuck,” you groaned, suddenly getting sad about that dress. Not like you could wear it anywhere else, it looked too fancy and you wouldn’t have many occasions to represent it properly. But your whiny-alcohol self wasn't pleased when she was looking at the scene of the tragedy.

“What did you…” Simon frowned, his eyes darting from your face and the bottom of your dress, now not looking as good as it was before.

“Ripped it,” you explained it briefly, sighing to yourself, when you two entered the local. “I’ll just have to throw it in the trash later.”

He seemed genuinely confused. “Can’t buy a new one?”

You shook your head. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea, if I’d have somewhere to wear it. But I don’t, so it’s a sign that I should get rid of it, you know?”

Simon only hummed in response.

The two of you entered the restaurant and ordered food; or, it would be more accurate to say that you ordered and he, like a princess, took a seat near the window.

He still stayed with his “I don’t want anything” statement, so you took something for yourself and an additional burger, if he’d want to bite into something—you could say that you cared about him. Not only did he take you to the gala after Soap basically pranked the two of you (even if you seemed like a bigger loser in the outcome), but he also was here. Spending time that he could spend on anything else.

Cheesy thought, but you liked that he seemed genuinely pleased with your companion, even if it was something so simple.

And he wasn’t irritated with you being loud. Something that he should be praised for, honestly.

“Mm. This?” You pointed with your finger at the burger, completely not caring about messing your fingers. “This is food.”

“Not really a fan of fancy cookin’, then?” Ghost raised his eyebrow, chuckling, when you gave him a judgy look. “What? Simply askin’.”

“I am , but I prefer this. Or, cooking at home,” you explained, as you took a bite of your fries. Then, you grabbed a few, trying to offer them to him since he didn’t order anything. He shook his head. “What? Come on.”

“Not really hungry, dove.”

“Doesn’t seem like my problem, dove,” you said right back, shaking the fries between your fingers, expecting him to take it. “Come on, Riley, you can certainly be a good boy and take them.”

You were pretty satisfied when he leaned in your direction. You even moved food closer to his hand, just to make it easier for him to snatch the fries with his fingers.

But he did something entirely different than you thought, he just bit them, and when you couldn’t be more surprised, he munched them whole, his teeth lightly touching your fingers.

His teeth.

Touching your fingers.

In theory, it wasn’t anything particularly deep, something like this could happen with everyone, but your attention had the way Simon looked at you. Your gazes, locked in together, a spark in his eyes, like he was challenging you to do something about it. To have a reaction , just like he had you blushing earlier on.

You cleared your throat slowly, to move on to your diet coke with ice, now melted; just like your dignity. Probably if he’d ask you to come to his apartment, you’d agree without any resistance.

“Not gonna say anything?” He asked after a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. Cocky smile on his lips, knowing one; he wasn’t dumb after all, he noticed the way you looked at him, the way you reacted to things.

Very attractive, but very irritating as well, especially when you had enough embarrassments this evening. You didn’t need him being all cocky and shit.

“What, you need compliments? Scratching behind your ear?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to mess with his attitude. You didn’t want to make this game easier for him than it already was, it wouldn’t be in your character.

“Well, since you named me… what was the word? Good boy, mhm.” He nodded, slowly, like he was recalling it all. “Then, it would be only proper to be treated like I did somethin’ good.”

Cheeky bastard.

“Real smooth,” you murmured, barely keeping yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

When you stood up, Simon’s hand automatically went to the corner of the table; you raised an eyebrow at it, confused why he did it. You wanted to even joke about this, but the words died in your mouth, when your eyes met his, and you instantly knew .

Previously, you banged with your hip against it. Hurt like hell, and now he decided to…

You gulped, walking out of the restaurant with his hand around your waist, protectively. It was hard not to say anything about this, about this warm, bubbly feeling in your belly, but you decided it wasn’t the right time.

Especially when there was a third wheel in Soap’s form that could very easily disturb your moment, or observe everything, which would make the whole situation awkward. But, that feeling slowly melted away.

Your curiosity was bigger than trying to act like nothing happened. Your nature was just begging .

“Personal protection?” you asked in a low tone, glancing at him after ten minutes on the road. His eyes automatically went to you, and when he raised an eyebrow, confused a bit, you chuckled. “That hand on the corner of the table? And your hand on my waist?”

“Drunk ones need protection,” he murmured, shrugging. So casually, like it was nothing , even if you could feel the chemistry between you two, even in the car, when your gazes were crossed.

You tried to hide your amusement at his words. Like he tried to cover his care to not ruin the “big man from the military” facade. “Mhm. Whatever you say.”

“Callin’ me a liar, dove?”

You had to take a breath; his low tone, eyes on you, didn’t help. If it would only depend on you, you’d kiss him without thinking twice, but the enigma this man was, you had to hold yourself back.

Scaring him wasn’t even an option, not when you just got closer to him. Good things needed time and you were willing to give him all the time he needed.

“Just agreeing with you,” you replied, nudging him with your elbow. Simon raised his eyebrow, scoffing under his nose.

“Whatever you say,” he mimicked you.

You didn’t comment on this - just chuckled and looked out of the window, to appreciate the view.

Outside got really overwhelming for you though, when keeping your eyes open started feeling like a challenge - the aftermath of today and the last couple of days. Twelve hours of work with animals, stress coming up with a few operations you had to do and this gala just got to you, the want of a simple rest. And this alcohol in your system wasn't helping in this situation.

It could even put you to sleep more.

So, you just closed your eyes, trying to get them to rest for a moment, as you thought about today. You thought about the beauty of the old casino, all the people that were here, but most and for all, you thought about Simon Riley.

How he wanted to hide his little smile under this balaclava, but you caught it anyway, since you were aware that he was proud of himself. Being awarded in front of all those sergeants, captains, generals, knowing that you’re doing a damn good job and they could only be jealous. His special force, whatever he served in, was blessed to have him.

And God, you couldn’t get rid of the image of his eyes. His dark brown eyes, sparkling under that warm, orange light when he came to you after his medal was proudly put on his chest. Simon didn’t even look at anyone else in the room thanking him, his gaze was only on you, and for a few seconds, you thought you’re gonna kiss this man in a form of silent “congratulations”.

This would be a great idea, if you’d have more courage and knowledge that he won’t push you away in front of all these people. You didn’t, so you stuck just to a compliment and a smile; a kiss could come later, in the right moment, where you’d handle the possible disappointment of him telling you “no”.

After all, he was still an enigma. Puzzles to solve, where you lacked several of them, and even if you saw the whole picture, those pieces were needed to see the details.

Thoughts transformed into dream, ruined by sudden touch under your knees and on your neck; you opened your eyes wide, just to be welcomed with a quick, smooth sssh like it was supposed to calm you down. It kinda did, considering you estimated the situation slowly, acknowledging that you were right in front of your apartment. Simon handled the situation with you in his arms, as you were hugged to his chest with his jacket on you.

“Your number?”

"Hey, you can… put me down. I have legs, you know. And I'm heavy, and-"

His huff interrupted your blabbing, as you raised your eyebrow, almost offended by his behavior. "Y'think that you're heavy? Try to lift a dead man thrice your weight, completely on your own, then we'll talk. Not to mention, with military gear, so he was probably even heavier."

Well, in this comparison, you really seemed like a feather for Simon. He was big himself, full of muscles, he lifted heavier things, people, than you. "…drastic. But, I'll take it."

“Mhm. Your number?” he repeated the question, looking at you with urgency.

You sighed, defeated. “114b. Fourth floor, you have a lift if you’re gonna turn left right now.”

“Got it, dove.”

As uncomfortable it was for a few seconds, you got used to your presence on his arms. It was almost like you were the right fit for him, the way his arm easily fit under your knees. The difference between you two was pretty visible too, considering that his palm was almost the size of your head. A couple of inches and it would be there .

You couldn’t help but think of other places where you could compare him to you. A familiar heat appeared on your cheeks and you tried not to look at your company for a few seconds, ashamed.

“You never gave me a dance, actually,” you murmured. Almost inaudibly; a bit of shame went through you. It was better to ask these questions when you were wasted like shit, not when you were sobering up a little.

“A dance?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at you with confusion. Visible one, as he tilted his head, stopping right in front of your door.

“Something that you do on occasions like this one, you know.” You shrugged, as you grabbed your key from the purse, giving it to him. After turning it two times, you two entered the apartment.

“You sound disappointed,” he remarked, as he put you down, eyes observing you carefully. It seemed like he wanted to make sure, and it made the whole thing awkward even more.

“No, it’s…” you shook your head, praying to lord or whoever was listening to you, to make him drop the topic. You had enough humiliation today, you didn’t need another one.

Especially with something trivial, where your thoughts just flew out of your mouth before you even acknowledged the meaning behind them. The possible consequences of scaring him away because you wanted too much and he wasn’t the type to dance with someone.

Or to be closer with someone, in that matter.

To your surprise though, he took a few steps in your direction. “Do you want to dance with me?”

His ask made you gulp; you wanted to say that he’s not obliged to do this, lie that you don’t want it, but the look in his eyes… you just couldn’t lie. “I want to, but you probably have…”

“…just shut up”, he murmured, as he located his hands on the small of your back. Big hands, making you feel ridiculously small in comparison. “Play the music you like. From the phone, even.”

Despite feeling awkward, you picked out a song to play in the background; something slow, something that you can sway to, without being too pressed about making this perfect. Honestly, you just wanted his arms around you with good music to it, where the worries would simply go away. You thought he would have this effect on you.

And he had, despite being a little clumsy in dancing - you didn’t care about instructing him from time to time, as long as you had your head against his chest, eyes closed for a moment. You wanted to drown yourself in that pleasure, melt and never let go of this warmness that he gave you so easily.

You wondered if he was always this hot, a walking heater, or it was just tonight.

”My dance abilities are mortifyin’,” he sighed, right to your ear. Hot breath made you shudder a bit, as you acknowledged how close he actually was to you. Chest to chest level, level where you wouldn’t expect him to be.

The closest you were… was that one moment back in the clinic - you slipped, and he caught you. Things were different back then, more stiff and official than it was when he danced with you, not only because you knew a bit more about him.

You never would’ve thought that it’s possible to maintain contact with him, not with a man that felt like a ghost among others. Ghost that probably never looks back, never interacts with someone more than a couple of times, just for his egoistical needs. For a sense of calmness that he probably hasn't experienced in a long time because of his job - without people, in his own apartment, he had it. Maybe for a brief moment, but you were pretty sure that he had it somehow.

Surprisingly, iit got to the point that you went to a military gala with him, it got to the point where he recommended you a mechanic, it got to the point where you met his comrades. Completely accidentally, but still. For some reason, you felt like something was working for the first time, and you couldn’t be more happy; it felt like you tamed him, if a man like him was capable of that. Of becoming… a home cat. Home cat that scratches you from time to time, but he’s around anyway.

You got him to trust you enough. If it wasn’t a gift, you didn’t know what it was.

“You’re doing great, actually,” you chuckled under your breath, hands comfortably around his neck. Eyes locked with his rich brown, staring so carefully into yours, like he was trying to see something between them; and you’d let him, if only he wanted to.

Simon’s lips opened for a moment, until it quickly closed again with a curse, his foot crashing yours

You hissed with pain, your teeth biting into your lower lip. This man had power in his legs without even trying , you could only guess how strong it could be if he’d do it on purpose.

Simon tried to back off, but you didn’t let him, your fingers snaking around his hand to let him know that you, pretty much, didn’t care.

“That much of doin’ great, dove,” he sighed, looking down at you. “Not made for dancing.”

“You’re made for other activities, though. Sure of that,” you whispered out, as you wrapped your hands around his neck again when his hands got back at your waist. The innuendo, completely not planned by you, hit you the moment he raised his eyebrow with curiosity. The spark in his brown eyes was evident, when the heat of your words dawned on your cheeks. “I didn’t mean it that way—”

“—surely.” He chuckled, tilting his head to the side. You wondered how he was so cocksure all the time; was he like this from the start, or something, someone shaped him this way? “Tell me, would you like to test it? My other activities ?”

You were pretty sure that if he wouldn’t drop the attitude he had, you’d faint on spot. “You’re so insufferable, Riley. I swear to God. Should we stop dancing, then?”

Something ignited in him when you said that; he didn’t waste any more time, just started slowly swaying with you again. “And they are tellin’ me that I don’t have sense of humour.”

“Well. Maybe it's the elite one,” you snickered. As you felt a sudden wave of fatigue going through your body, you rested your cheek against his chest, hoping that he wouldn’t say a thing about you doing this again . Or, wouldn’t push you off, at least. “You could tell me some, if you want to. Jokes, I mean.”

“Could I…” he muttered. His grip around you tightened more, his hands going up and down your spine, making you feel at home in his arms. You suddenly didn’t need a bed to rest, a couch or anything else. Simon’s arms were enough. “Maybe I could. But I don’t know if you have ‘elite humour’, you know.”

“I might have, if those jokes aren’t about Americans being the worst people alive,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a smile, when you heard that he laughed too.

“They are, though.” He shrugged, locking eyes with you again. “But you’re the exception to the rule, dove.”

[ticklishfiend]

Off-Button (My Hero Academia)

Pairing : Lee!Kaminari Ler!Bakugou

A/N : oh my god who new scumbag could actually post again, it's a marvel. no but fr, i've been lurking around the tickle tags forever and reading all of yall's amazing fics and i couldn't help getting back into it, even for just one fic. this isn't tickletober, i do not have the patience for that (u guys having the willpower to make something new every single day is fucking astounding to me idk how u do it lol), but i hope u guys enjoy it anyways! as always, please like and reblog if u can bc i really appreciate the support :D enjoy!! &lt;3

Summary : Denki is incapable of being quiet during Bakugou and Kirishima's movie night they invited him to. Bakugou can't stand it, and decides to take matters into his own hands.

Word Count : 3359 

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! LOVE U GUYS! <333

. . .

What the absolute fuck was Spiky Hair thinking when he invited that energy filled blabber mouth to their movie night. 

Denki hadn’t shut up since he got into the damn room, his mouth seemingly going for an exercise run when the movie started and he got to make his own commentary. Katsuki was hoping for a nice, relaxing time with his boyfriend, watch a horror movie or two so Eijirou would snuggle close for comfort, and just all around actually enjoy his evening. 

But goddamnit if Denki wasn’t just the right man for disturbing the peace.

“Holy shit, did you see that?! That head went FLYING! It looks like someone throwing a football to a field goal! Wait, is it a field goal? Kiri, what’s the difference between a touchdown and a field goal? I’m not much of a football man, more of a baseball kinda guy. Although, I’d never turn down tickets to the Superbowl if I ever got the chance. You know they have these huge performances in the middle of the game where famous singers take over the field and just go ham?! I’d go just for that! But not if-”

Katsuki was going to become the next serial killer in a blockbuster horror movie if Denki didn’t shut his fucking mouth soon.

He glared at Eijirou, who was grinning from ear to fucking ear. Oh he did this shit on purpose. He hangs out with Sparky way more than Katsuki does, able to withstand his constant rambling in a way the short-tempered teen has never been able to understand. 

It’s not that Katuski dislikes Denki, though he would never ever fucking admit that out loud. He actually finds him funny sometimes, especially when paired with Sero. The two would probably make a good stand-up duo if Denki wasn’t the type to steal the microphone away just to ramble about every stupid thought that popped into his mind. 

But overall, Katuski does enjoy his company…most of the time.

“-I mean I don’t hate vegetables, but I’m not gonna pick them if I have the choice, y’know? Like if I have the choice between a beautiful bowl of pre-packaged ramen and a fucking green bean, I’m going with the ramen every single time, no question. Oh, but fruit though? That’s a whole different story-”

“Holy shit do you have a FUCKING off button?!” Katsuki shouted to Denki’s spot on the floor, feeling Eijirou give his shoulder a tight squeeze in return. Katsuki whipped his head around to find a disapproving gaze that really pissed him off. “What?! This is supposed to be a movie night, but I haven’t been able to hear the damn thing for it’s entire fucking duration! He’s ruining it!”

“You don’t have to be rude,” Eijirou whispered with a frown. Denki had fallen unusually quiet, and though they couldn’t see his face from their spots up on the couch, they knew what that meant. Katsuki knew what that meant, and damn Eijirou for giving him the ability to feel empathy for others.

Katsuki sighed through a groan, pushing himself off the couch and onto the floor next to Denki. Both were quiet, just sitting next to each other and watching the movie together in an uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry for ruining your movie night,” Denki mumbled into his arms which were now propped crossed on his knees. Katsuki pinched his lips together, gaze refusing to avert from the screen.

“You didn’t ruin shit, idiot,” he said, his tone much softer than before. “ Our fault for thinking you could actually be quiet for an hour and a half.”

“Katsuki,” Eijirou threatened from the couch, his inflection enough to make Katsuki realize his mistake in words.

“It was a joke, relax,” Katsuki grumbled like a teen to a scolding parent. Finally looking over at Denki, he started to feel his guilt bubbling to a boil. He cringed hard when he realized what needed to be said, feeling the words practically squirming in his chest with utter discomfort. “I’m…sorry. Okay? I’m sorry,” Katsuki rubbed his face anxiously, basically covering his mouth like it would make his words unheard. “I just like watching shit in silence, alright? Nothing personal, you moron, just…agree to disagree, I guess.”

Denki sat there for a moment. He was letting Katsuki’s apology settle in his system like swallowing a pill he’d never taken before. Bakugou…apologized to him. Actually said the word sorry, and TWICE at that. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Denki launched himself at Katsuki, throwing his arms around him tightly before Katsuki had the chance to realize he was fucking hugging him. Katsuki quickly shoved him off like he had a disease, but that smile never left Denki’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Sparky! This changes nothing!”

“You like me!” Denki beamed, repeatedly poking at Katsuki’s arm like it would make him realize it himself. “You said sorry, you apologized to me! Kirishima, we’ve gotta throw a party or something, bake me a cake--shit, bake Bakugou a cake! This is a real turn of events, my friends, a real turning point in our friendship if I do say so myself,” Denki sighed happily, criss-crossing his legs and facing Katsuki with a wide smile. “You like me.”

Katsuki growled at the notion. He couldn’t even deny it, the bastard was right. But he didn’t have to be so damn smug about it. 

Then, like his guardian angel was sending him telepathic messages on how to fucking destory this loser, he remembered something. Something very interesting.

Last week, Sero and Denki had been roughhousing on the floor of the common rooms over something Katsuki couldn’t care less to find out about. All he knew was that Denki had been the annoying little shit he always is, and Sero was finally retaliating against it and winning. He had Denki in some weird wrestler hold, his arms held firm behind his back as he kicked and struggled and refused to apologize for whatever annoyance he had caused.

Then, there was a screech. A loud one, followed by bouts of hysterical laughter and far more thrashing than before. Sero was tickling at his ribs with his free hand, fingers never relenting from the one spot he had a firm ticklish grip on. Denki pleaded and begged, and eventually with enough persuasion, Denki apologized. 

Denki is ticklish, and apparently ridiculously so. This could be helpful. This could be vital.

“I suggest you shut your mouth right now before I find that fucking off button myself,” Katsuki threatened, his eyes peering through his brow in the way a predator would before striking its prey.

“Oh c’moooon, you wouldn’t hurt your best friend, would you?” Denki creened through a grin before giggling with his tongue stuck between his teeth. Such a little shit, he was really milking this for all it’s worth.

“Not gonna hurt you, fucknuts. But I am gonna make you regret everything you just fucking said,” Katsuki growled before shoving Denki onto his back, the electric blonde letting out a confused yelp as he went down flailing. Katsuki kept his hand pressed firmly on Denki’s chest, pinning him to the floor with ease as he clambered on top. 

“Woah, we turning this duo into a trio or what, KitKat?” Kirishima chided in, having been scrolling on his phone for the past minute before realizing the action that was happening right before his eyes.

“Can it, idiot. I’ve got business to attend to here,” Katsuki growled before turning back to Denki with an evil grin. “You ticklish, Sparkplug?”

Denki’s eyes went wide before immediately throwing his arms around himself to protect his torso. “Nope.”

“Ohoho really? You seem awfully nervous for someone who ain’t ticklish,” Katsuki wiggled his fingers in the air menacingly, like a predator about to strike. “And if I recall correctly, Sero had you pretty fuckin’ beat the other day after you tried your luck annoying the shit outta him too.”

Denki’s lips pressed together tightly, the corners wobbling in a vain attempt to keep from giggling already. He shook his head vehemently. “No idea what you’re talking about,” his words came out quick, curling his lips under his teeth as soon as his talking ceased.

“Oh yeah? Well how ‘bout I jog your memory a bit; get that pea-brain of yours back up to speed, huh?” Katsuki slowly moved his wiggling fingers down towards Denki’s sides, the electric blonde unable to keep his giggles in any longer as they flowed out of him through puffs of air through his nose and a bouncing chest filled with butterflies. He swatted slapping hands at Katsuki's quickly, trying to both fight back while also protecting himself at the same time. His elbows stayed glued to his ribs while his hands uselessly bat at the weapons of mass destruction easing towards his torso.

“No, nonono nohoho wahahait,” he giggled nervously, having yet to even be tickled but unable to keep it at bay any longer. 

“Nah, it’s too late for that shit,” Katsuki growled before finally striking, fingers pinching strategically at the boy’s sides right below his ribs. Denki screeched, back arching and legs kicking out behind his tormenter as he reached down to grip Katsuki’s wrists and try to push them away, but it was futile. Giggles poured from him with ease, interlaced with squeals when Katsuki’s fingers came just a bit too close to his ribs for comfort.

“Ahahaha! Wahahait, c’mohohon! Dohohon’t!” Denki shook his head, trying to find any relief from that torturously funny sensation Katsuki delivered to him through gentle pinches and scribbles.

That was another thing throwing Denki completely for a loop; Bakugou was being so gentle. He expected rough digging, hard squeezes that would leave him gasping for air and swirling punches. But instead he got agonizingly tame, insanely ticklish pinches that had him already nearly pleading for mercy. 

“Don’t? Please, you asked for this as soon as you tried fucking with me. I was even being nice to you before, idiot. But noooo, you just had to keep poking the damn bear, didn’t you?” Katsuki emphasized his metaphor by sporadically poking all over Denki’s torso, at his belly, then his sides, up to his ribs, and even his chest, which Denki didn’t know could feel as ticklish as it did.

Denki giggled hysterically, squirming like a worm with his arms pulled close, basically giving up the fight and letting Katsuki do as he pleases. He knew he wouldn’t win if he tried, so he might as well let it happen until Bakugou tires himself out with it.

That is, until, Katsuki’s thumbs found their way into the hollows of Denki’s armpits. Denki squealed loudly, his heels digging hard into the carpet with every kick as his head turned to try and smush his red face into the floor beside him. 

“Oh, sweet spot, huh?” Katsuki grinned, thumbs practically glued to that little spot under Denki’s arms that kept the boy cackling and squirming like crazy. “You seeing this, Kiri? Think he’s gonna keep messing with me after this?”

Eijirou chuckled, phone now beside him on the couch as he enjoyed the show before him. “Oh definitely. Guy’s a glutton for punishment.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that after I’m done with him.”

Denki blushed deeply, turning his head towards Kiri and opening a single eye as best he could with his face all scrunched in laughter. “Kirihihieehehe! Pleheheease! Hehehelp me!” he gasped for air through giggles, talking through his hysteria quite the difficult task. “Mahahake him stohohop!” 

“Oh no, absolutely not. You got what’s coming to you, gigglebox, and I’m not interfering with him when he’s like this,” Eijirou couldn’t help but laugh along, the boy’s laughter too contagious to help it.

“You could always help me, y'know? Cause you already know what I’ll do to you if you don’t, gigglebox,” Katsuki sent Eijirou a wicked smile, fingers still tickling the boy under him relentlessly. Eijirou blushed, before getting up from the couch with a sigh.

“Sorry, Denks, nothing personal,” he apologized with a giggle, obviously not sorry in the slightest. He sat down above Denki’s head, giving his hair a little tussle.

“Nohoho! You dohohon’t hahahave to do thihis!” Denki’s squirming increased before letting in a big gasp of air as Katsuki’s assault finally relented, though his arms stayed glued tightly to his sides. “C’mohon, man, we’re friehehends!” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re friends, man. And no, I don’t have to do this,” Kiri grinned before grabbing Denki’s wrists, trying to pull them up above his head. Denki tried hard to keep them down, unable to keep the giggles to himself in pure anticipation, repeating “nonononohoho!” as he felt Kiri winning the fight for his hands. They came to a standstill when his hands were near his face, Denki pulling hard to keep them down.  “But I kinda want to, y’know?” Kiri giggled, giving Katsuki a look. “A little help, love?”

“No problem,” Katsuki smiled before bringing his fingers up to flutter softly at Denki’s neck and ears. Denki squealed, high-pitched giggles escaping as he struggled to keep his strength, too focused now on trying to protect his neck with his shoulders. This allowed Kiri to finally pull his arms up above his head and pin them there by the wrists, Denki whining loudly and kicking his legs out in protest.

“Plehehease! I’m sorry, okahay, don’t tickle mehehee!” He pleaded, bringing his knees up to drum against Katsuki’s back.

“Don’t care, didn’t ask,” Katsuki said before bringing his fingers down to flutter softly against Denki’s armpits through his shirt, the boy squealing and screaming out a “no!” in response before falling helplessly into giggles and cackles. “Plus, this is kinda fun.”

His fingers fluttered and spidered for a while, relishing in Denki’s frantic laughter. Katsuki got bored of the flutters after a while, switching to pinching up and down Denki’s ribcage with gentle precision. 

“Nohohoho! I cahahahan’t, mahahan, plehehease! It tihihickles!” Denki shoved his face into his now raised arm, trying to muffle his giggles and hide his flushed face.

“Damn right it tickles, I’m tickling you,” Katsuki looked at Eijirou with a mocking shake of the head and a sigh. “This fuckin’ guy, amirite?”

“His face is so red, man. I think he’s embarrassed ~,” Kiri cooed down towards Denki’s face, giggling at the squeal his words brought.

“I’m nohohot! I’m nohohohot!” Denki shook his head into his arm, squirming even harder and screaming as one of Katsuki’s hands came up to flutter at the open side of his neck, the other still preoccupied at his ribs.

“He’s tryna deny it, Kiri,” Katsuki tsked before bringing his face closer to Denki’s. “You know what we do to liars around here?”

“Nohoho!” Denki cried, not sure if he was replying to Katsuki’s teasing question or just yelling out his preferred word to cry out in ticklish agony.

“Weeeeee…” Katsuki paused both his sentence and his tickling, his hands standing still in the spots they were last playing with. Denki continued to giggle through his panting breath, body tense in anticipation and eyes squeezed shut tight. Seconds passed and still, nothing. Curiosity killed the cat, but Denki couldn’t help opening one of his eyes hesitantly and looking up at Katsuki’s wicked grin. 

Then, he screamed when Katsuki’s hands shot down quickly to squeeze at his hips, falling yet again into helpless cackles. “...tikitikitikitikitickle them!”

“Ahahahaha gohohohod! Thahat’s sohoho- pppffttt hahahaha! -stuhuhupihihid!” Denki shook his head in protest, kicking and bucking his hips like he could knock off his tickler with one good throw. Obviously it didn’t work, and Katsuki continued to tickle him while staying put like he was riding a bull.

“Oh, you callin’ me stupid now? Do you really think that’s the smartest move to make when I’ve got you squealing like a little girl for saying some stupid shit earlier?’”

“I juhuhust said- gahahahaha nohoho! -thahat you lihihike mehehee!” 

“Yeah and how did that turn out for you?” Katsuki asked before scribbling his hands over Denki’s waist, the boy screeching and giggling frantically in response.

“Bahahahad! Sohoho bahahahd!”

“That’s what I thought,” Katsuki grinned before going back to poking around Denki’s belly, a much easier task now that Denki’s flailing arms were out of the equation. “How’s about we find that little off button we discussed earlier, huh? Maybe we can finally get you to shut your trap for once.”

Eijirou giggled with a shake of his head. “You are so mean, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love it,” Katsuki looked at Denki’s face, grinning at the blush he wore and the giant smile overtaking his features and making his nose scrunch up all cutely. “And from the looks of it, so does this little guy. You enjoyin’ yourself up there, dumbass?”

Denki’s belly bounced through his giggles, much softer than before now that he was just being poked at, but still frantic as his belly was very ticklish. “Nohoho!”

“I think that’s the word of the day. ‘No, no, no,’ it’s all you’ve said since we started this shit. You mean that? You want us to stop? Cause hey, say the word and playtime’s over, Sparkplug.”

For the first time since their little tickle fest started, Denki had nothing to say. Just a response of happy giggles and an even brighter blush that he yet again tried hiding in his arm.

“Well would you look at that! Seems like our friend here has some sense after all,” Katsuki smiled up at Eijirou, who rolled his eyes fondly. The redhead already knew Denki didn’t mind the tickles as much as he loved to claim he did, so he wasn’t surprised in the least to find him happily allowing them to continue the torment. 

Katsuki’s pokes never ceased, like they were still on the hunt. “So, about that off button…” He hummed curiously, his pokes traveling all around his belly, sides, and ribs like in a search. “Oh, I know. How about riiiiiight…here!” He stuck his finger in Denki’s bellybutton, scratching and poking at it gently but very obviously efficiently, as the blonde under him let out a loud squeal before his laughs fell silent. Just a bouncing chest and belly with occasional gasps for air to prove he was still laughing up a storm on the inside.

“Hehey, I think you found it! See, he’s gone all quiet now!” Eijirou boasted, looking down at Denki’s hysterical expression with a chuckle.

“Well ain’t that a relief,” Katsuki said, eyebrows shooting up when Denki’s cackles and shrieks returned in a wild new wave. “Guess we know how to shut him up now. Just a little tickle right in this off-button and we’ve got a nice night of peace and quiet,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, as Denki’s laughter had never been louder than now.

Finally, Katsuki’s assault ceased, giving Eijirou a nod to let his arms go. Denki brought them down over his belly protectively, rolling over on his side to curl into a ball of giggles when Katsuki got off and sat next to him.

“So, you still think I like you, numbnuts?” Katsuki asked, grinning proudly as his boyfriend rubbed Denki’s back.

“Ehehe…yeah, kinda,” Denki looked at Katsuki over his shoulder. “I mean, you did just have a tickle fight with me, man. Not really something non-friends do with each other.”

“Hey, not a tickle fight. I didn’t see you getting any jabs in there, did I?” Katsuki said with a poke to Denki’s side, the boy flinching with a yelp before scooting closer to Eijirou like he’d protect him from mean ‘ole Bakugou.

“Fine, a tickle attack then. Either way…” Denki tilted his head with a smug expression, a smile still very present on his face. “...you totally like me.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes before getting up and plopping himself back on the couch, grabbing his phone to scroll like nothing happened. “Whatever, idiot. Just know who you’re messing with.”

Denki giggled, looking up at Kirishima who shook his head with a fond smile. “Trust me, I am very well aware.”

There was a comfortable silence between the three of them before they all seemed to realize at the same time, it wasn’t actually silent in the room.

The movie was still on.

“Oh fucking hell you’ve gotta be KIDDING ME-“

. . .

A/N : hope y'all enjoyed! im working on another fic rn but don't plan on that coming out super soon, y'all know how long it takes me to write sometimes and i've kinda been drowning in schoolwork lately. college is truly a different experience LMAO. anyways, much love y'all imma go do some homework and hopefully get some sleep tonight.

[artinandwritin]

I dont think i ever mentioned it but ever since i started applying to art colleges I've been keeping up an art wall and since i just added some new illustrations to it, i thought it would be fun to explain some things on my wall and revisit some of my old favourites!

Going from left to right, we start with some more recent illustrations (featuring, ofc, gussiri, Niv, and a recent illustration of Cato from @otwdfanfic 's fic that i liked sm i just had to print and put up somewhere). Next to Cato, I put a gift i got from my dear friend @lt-catbolt of our bois Niv and Melatron and i cant remember if this was for my birthday or for fun, all i know is that i nearly cried when she gave it to me (go follow her now btw she's awesome and shes gonna become one of the most expressive storytellers of our generation i just know it)

Underneath Cato and Niv/Mel, we've got a huge pencil drawing I did 2 years ago to get accepted into an art college. It took me so. So long. I even begged my teachers from high school to let me follow classes online so i could continue working (they said yes lmao) and my mom even had to help. Worse, it wasnt the only assignment that particular art school had given me, no, they had given me a total of 6 assignments I had to complete. They all took a lot of time and didnt all turn out great haha. I didnt get accepted into that school (it was a fine arts study so im pretty sure i wouldnt have been happy there anyways) but that just makes me all the more happy i did get accepted into the one im currently attending

Anyway ive been too lazy to take it down so now itll be there until i find the willpower to take it down

The butterfly above it is a painting i did towards autumn of 2021 for my portfolio. I'm not the best painter (decent enough but its just not for me) but im still really happy with how this turned out. It was pretty fun!

Underneath that is an inkt print made from a stencil once again featuring Cato (i have. No idea why hes on my wall twice lmao i guess hes just a great muse). People who have been with me for long enough probably still remember this cuz i was superproud of how it turned out and plastered it all over my account (and my house. My mom wanted a copy as well)

Underneath the inkt print is a poster i got while visiting the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe stage play when I was in London in autumn of 2022 (take me back London take me back take me back). The play was absolutely stunning and the way everything was staged left me (as a life long narnia enthusiast) ecstatic and super excited. One of the best plays ive ever seen even if i had one of the worst seats in the theatre <3

Next to the poster is another little gussiri drawing i printed lmao. The little goobers show up so much

Above the poster is more of gussiri!! And above that is another painting i made, this time of some mushrooms. I made this during a party i threw for my 18th birthday, we all did some painting together and i remember my lovely lovely friend @allilcat painting with watercolours so well. That memory is just etched into my brain <333

Above that is a painting i made of the night sky! I used it for my portfolio and it was really cool to paint since i, not knowing basic painting techniques, could only really throw my own imagination into it which gave a really cool result. Still really love it!

Lastly, we've got a Siri illustration made by a classmate of mine for a secret santa we did last christmas! I was so happy with it and ofc it deserved a really good spot on my wall <333

Thats been a bit about my wall, if youve made it this far thanks for listening to me rambling <333

[michiganrag]

In response to Anonymous following up on their Looney Tunes comics character dynamics ask from two years ago:

It’s good to hear from you! I actually deleted that initial ask because I didn’t think that you/anyone would still be interested if I didn’t answer within a couple of days...I'm keeping this follow up ask in my drafts until I’m able to give it a proper response--you deserve one lol. The comics are their own strange canon I’d love to get back into exploring so no worries! I do wish some things like Petunia and Bugs like you mentioned would get re-explored in LTC, a lot of potential there.

9/11/22 EDIT: I feel stupid being this way about an ask I could probably throw some stuff down on, but I wanted to reread the comics so I remembered stuff I’ve forgotten the past couple years when things were fresh in my mind, but that’s just…. Not happening. Late July things got unexpectedly rough and even tho it’s doing better now in terms of my schedule I’m at a point where I’m so far behind in classwork now from late July that I can’t keep up. I don’t know if you were keeping tabs on this, it’s so embarrassing but I’m probably not ever getting to it or doing a serious write up for this blog in the foreseeable months.

UHHH BASICALLY THINGS ARE DIFFERENT BUGS AND ELMER AND DAFFY ARE MORE EXPLICITLY FRIENDS, YOSIMITE SAM EVEN IS EASIER TO GET ALONG WITH, we have daffy that isn’t cynical interacting with Bugs which I thought was fresh and still really like. There’s also Bugs and Porky able to be chums but also get into little rivalries (if memory serves) which is great for them, and it’s interesting to see since they never interact in the show. That’s the crux of it never interacting in the show. HERES WHERE I WOULD ADD PICTURES AND ENDEARING EXAMPLES BUT I GOTTA BE GETTING READY FOR WORK IN A HANDFUL OF HOURS SORRY.

Here’s what I wrote in July, tl;dr my main tumblr, life update from the past couple years, and that you can DM me for my discord:

Also, since you asked how I’ve been (two years ago I was taking a break from Tumblr), I think I’ll update here publicly for anybody curious on this blog slowing down/me personally:

Basically, I’m doing fine. I honestly lost a bit of interest in LT compared to where I’ve been in the past. If you want to see what I’m into at any given time I’m active daily on @surfinthehighway​ though I don’t really pressure myself to post original content at all and just ramble, sometimes A LOT, in the tags of reblogs. It’s fun.

My LT interest will crop back up with time no doubt--old ones always come back around.

Outside of hobbies, where we last left off with me taking a break was a period of wild unhappiness which has since led to me getting my first job and dropping out of my four-year college to take classes more geared towards working in the animation industry from online institutions and art colleges via continuing education classes. So I’ve been busy busy busy! If anyone does want to connect, I think Discord might be the best way. I don’t want to have my Discord tag here publicly but shoot me a DM if you want to connect there or if you want to join my LT server (it’s been quiet recently but it’s small and comfy... infodumping encouraged!)

[bluewinnerangel]

Omg, thank u 💙 I loooooved your kiwi analysis 💙 and I loved how detail oriented you are 💙 now and then I start to speculate what this song is about and I can never be really sure, so I love collecting new ideas ab it 💙

https://hazzabeeforlou.tumblr.com/post/179935917469/the-mythic-foundation-of-hs1-kiwi

I’d love to hear your insight about this, I don’t have many friends keen on discussing the meaning of HS (and LT) lyrics haha, and I’m always interested on getting new povs. The author says their analysis of hs1 comes from a literary angle telling a circular story. I like their review of hs1 in general, but the kiwi one is one of the most unusual takes I’ve come around.

Elloo!!! Thank you <3

Just when I think I put in enough interpretations there's just more and more isn't there. First again for the devoted all the interpretations should be under my "kiwi" tag plus there's some good stuff in peoples tag rambles on the main post!

Ok cut because block of text:

Link you provided. I'm not really one to trash other peoples interpretations of things (unless it's a real dumbdumb like it being about miss taytay unironically or some shit asdahskdj), but I don't see how that checks out really. I think when a song is about something a bit more specific, like marriage as that analysis says, he's gonna leave hints in there that it is. I don't see a hint of that in Kiwi to be honest, but you've read my analysis so you know I'm not one to go with one interpretation and not be open to the rest lol, so I don't wanna say no, just, I didn't pick up on that and I picked that fruit apart as far as I could. I don't see any theme of uh.... commitment, pride, joy, forming a bond, starting a life together, whatever you think of when you think of that. And in general yeah I do think shit's deep, but not that deep that there's some double flipflop happening where he thought it would be fun to have the first layer be a coherent concept of just a girl on the street / in a club yet also insinuating it's about babygate but WAIT actually it's beyond that and it was all a joke. They say the lyrics don't really hold up as being about babygate, but they totally check out as being about babygate for me (I made a bigass wholeass analysis so I don't think I need to explain) so I'm not sure what they see not checking out.

I just think that if he wanted to have a song that included their commitment to eachother like that it would be a positive full of energy song, like he would have gone fuck the situation we're in I'm just gonna sing about the positives and ignore all that other bullshit of us being pulled apart because bish we're in this together WE'RE TOGETHER WE MADE IT YAY and not this whole big big ass trickery of a song with a very very loud and heavy main message of someone having someone elses baby and it being someone elses business. (what a sentence aksdakj) Look at Golden for instance. There is a struggle in there, he did leave a negative undertone, yet the main message is YOU'RE SO GOLDEN YOU'RE SO GOLDEN YOU ARE SO SO SO GOLDEN. Or Adore You. Or Sunflower. Or Canyon Moon. or Sweet Creature. I don't know if it's clear what I'm trying to say but like, he could've chosen many many many ways to yell "fuck you we're committed to each other no matter what you throw at us" I just don't see why he would choose to disguise that in a babygate joke.

It works better the other way around: "I'm having your baby it's none of your business" -> "I'm taking your loved one away from you" (which is the opposite of what the linked analysis is saying oop), as in there's ~waves trying to break them~ you know. I don't think I mentioned that one in the analysis hmm.

Indeed the flightless bird thing holds up pretty well so it's nice to see they went there too.

Then for the text in that post:

And then there’s the fact that this seems to be Harry’s favorite song, the one he can never sing enough (three times at his final concert!), the one he belts out with great joy and exuberance, dancing all over the stage like a maniac. It’s hard to imagine that this is how he really feels about Louis’ most demoralizing stunt.

You just have to have met one petty mfer in your life, especially british polite people who show their frustrations in very small subtle ways you can just ~easily not pick up on at all~ to know that's passive aggressiveness/anger/a release of frustration/a way to deal with those bottled up feelings. The way it's sung, the energy in it, it's negative to me. I think maniac is key here. He's trying very hard to turn it into something positive, and I'd say releasing a song that people love / can identify with / can have any effect on them in any way that makes them feel alive equals something positive so that's a success no matter how you view it really. But it's still coming from a place of being driven insane. In other words, it's not hard to imagine for me whatsoever this is how he really feels about Louis' most demoralizing stunt. It's like him yelling WOMAN LA LA LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU LA LA LA LA he's just being an aggressive shit that wants to scream and yell and this is the best he can do, he's screaming it all at us. Would there be another way for him to say how he really feels without saying it? I don't think there would. There really doesn't need to be a sneakily positive story behind this song in order to make it make sense.

I've read the paragraph about the "when she's alone she goes home to a cactus in a black dress she's such an actress" many times and I'm missing the logic there. I don't even know how to begin commenting on that one I just don't get it. Anyway this wasn't meant to trash that OP or analysis, and if they're still around and somehow see this just thank you for putting your interpretations out there and all are valid (except for people making it about kendall/taylor those can go somewhere else lol) and none of us really know and were all just screaming idiots on the internet and blablabla.

(about kiwi analysis)

[ewokaythen]

Y/N changes her hair

  1st story of Mobsters daughter in class 1A

-----

I walk into the school cafe making sure to stay close to a wall, and out of sight from any class 1A students. I have nothing against any, well most of the students in 1A. They are just too nice. Every time we talk I can feel the pity in their stares and I can feel them carefully picking their words. They try to avoid talking about multiple topics such as parents and prison. I get that they are trying to avoid hurting me or making me feel left out, but in the process of doing that that have made me feel like even more of a outsider. 

The only person who doesn’t visibly show pity is Katsuki Bakugo, that’s because he doesn’t care. As long as I stay out of his way he wont start stuff. I scan the room and find him sitting by himself. That’s odd normally he has a whole crew of people sitting with him. 

I open up my bag and reach for my lunch sac. 

‘huh, where is my lunch?’ I wonder. I dig around my bag and when I don’t find it I groan loudly. I can’t believe I forgot my food! If I stand and go get food now, I’ll loose my seat to some other kid that wants a solo seat. 

“Found her!” A loud voice says. I don’t have to look up to know that it is Midoriya. He had some hyper fixation with being my friend. Suddenly multiple seats pull up to my table. I look up from by bag to see that the whole mystery gang is here. “ Hi Y/N! How are you liking UA ? Is there any subjects I can help with? Did you already eat? What did you have?” He starts throwing all of these questions at me. Iida puts out a robotic hand to stop him. 

“Midoriya calm down you’re scaring her!’ He yells loudly. 

Midoriya turns red and starts rambling on about how sorry he is. His hands swing around in the air almost knocking over Todoroki’s soba. All of class1A, minus Bakugo, had crowed themselves around the table. Denki and Mina are practically sitting on top of me. I can feel my parience wearing thin. I don’t want to snap at any of them because I know they are trying to be nice, despite my past. 

“You know you have pretty hair Y/N.” Mina complements me and touches my hair starting to braid it. My hair is long and straight. However is isn’t straight naturally. My mother had always told me to keep my hair long and lady like. I was born with a slight natural curl in my hair, it’s from my fathers side and my mother has always wanted me to be just like her. That includes with hair. 

“ Yeah! It makes you look like a princess!” Uraraka beams bubbly. With that I quickly stand. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” I quickly walk off before anyone can stop me. She isn’t the first to call me a princess. My mother made sure I was raised like one. She gave me everything and made sure I always looked the best. I wore dresses and heels. I wore make up and smiled at every one. No one would question someone with a well behaved princess of a daughter. Well I’m tired of being a princess. I’m tired of being a perfect well behaved fake . I’m finally free of my moms control and yet I haven’t been myself.

I make my way to the teachers lounge. I reach out to open the door but It swings open before I open it. 

“Young Y/N! What has brought you here?” 

“ AllMight! I have a favor to ask!”

--------Time skip to that night------

“Wow.” Class 1A stares at me in shock. 

“You hair-” Kirishima says in awe. 

I touch my hair . It took some time and guilt tripping but I managed to get All Might to take me to get my hair done. My hair had gone from long h/c to shoulder hair that goes barley past my shoulders. I had it dyed black with green tips.“Your hair is beautiful !” Mina yells. She pulls me into the dorms and starts playing with my hair. 

“This really suits you!” Yaoyorozu creates two green scrunchies. She hands them to Mina who starts to put my hair into pigtails. 

“When your hair starts to fade we can go get dye together.” Kirishima points to his hair. 

“You look like a rock star.” Denki wraps a arm around Jirou to pull her in for a closer look. She stabs him with her long ear lobes sending sound waves through him. He quickly lets go.  

Mineta starts to walk towards me but Hagakure kicks him like a soccer ball. 

“Your hair is so cuuuutteee.” Her and Uraraka gush. 

“It goes so well with your green energy beams!’’ Midoryia  adds. Of course he would bring up my quirk. I swat everyone away. I feel myself blushing. 

“Hey extras! Leave Finger guns you’re creating a lot of noise and some of us are trying to sleep.” Bakugo yells from his room. He slams his door shut and a tired looking Todoroki opens his door. He walks to the living room and see my hair. 

“Looks nice.” He says calmly before turning back around. 

“Okay everyone the fun is over! its 9 pm and we should all be in bed to get a good nights rest So that we can preform to our best ability in class!” Iida gets on his class president high horse once again. 

I roll my eyes. "Sure thing captain." I give him a slight salute. I hear Kirishima hold in a chuckle. Uraraka and Ashido giggle and grab on each other's arms as they head to their rooms. Slowly everyone breaks off to head to bed.

Kirishima wraps a friendly arm around me. He is probably the only person I don't mind touching me. He has some claiming aura to him. I think that's why he is so close to Bakugou, even someone as pissy as Bakugou feels a little clamer with Kirishima around.

"You know I think you have two quirks." I say once no one else is around. I can't loose my street cred because of him.

"Huh? What do you think lt is? " He flashes a sharp toothed smile.

"Calming aura." I put a closed fist on my open hand.

Kirishima looks confused. "You think my aura is calming?" We walk in silence for a few seconds and I grow embarrassed.

"It- it was just a stupid thing. Bakugou is somewhat calm around you. I don't feel the need to be rude around you. " My cheeks burn I did not just say 'feel the need to rude around you.'

"No! I just thought it..." He pauses. "I thought it was nice. I don't think I have heard to complement any one before. I figured you like Bakugou in a 'I say mean things but I actually respect you' kind of way" I didn't notice we walked past his room.

"I know you did not just compare me to that hedgehog." I raise a eyebrow at him, and he throws both hands up in self defense.

"No! I just think you two would get along if either of you gave each other a chance." He pats my shoulder. "Good night y/n."

I see that we are at my room. "You didn't have to walk me all the way to my room." I open my door. "Good night Kirishima. " I say and shut the door quickly. Why does he have to be so nice.

3rd pov

Bakugou leans against his bed room door. If it weren't for him being tired he would of swung open the door and said something. Instead he runs a hair through his hair and walks to his bed.

"Yeah as if I could get along with Princess gloomy." He mumbles and flops onto his bed.

-----

I have writers block so I’m not going to finish this

[lilacsandthistles]

"I don't like you. But you're good for my business and that's all I need..." wha

[leonidas-banana-phone]

A New Batch of Shinies

Spooks, Ven and Sage travel to Kamino to gather the rest of Sage’s squad. 

Words: 2996

No warnings for this one :)

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

She tugs on the stiff uniform as she runs across the wet landing platform, the cold air whips around them. A Kaminoan waits just inside the door of the facility, their hands clasped gently in front of them. They're graceful in a terrifyingly cold way. She bows, "You must be Lieutenant Cerez. Welcome to our facility." 

"Thank you, ma'am. Glad to be here." Spooks put on her best officer smile. Ven and Sage grumble into their comms. She tries her best to shake them off, it can't be easy coming back here after all this time. She's heard what happens to clones when they're sent back to Kamino, decommissioning, or reconditioning, there are even rumors of them being killed, horrible, terrible things.

The Kaminoan looks over at her clone escort, Sage and Ven, as well as the rest of Sage's squad, Oli, Worm, Clocks, and Enlo. They wanted to be front and center when they met the rest of their squad. She almost sneers at them, it puts her on edge. "Let's get started, shall we? I'll give you a tour of our facility while your men meet the new squad."

"Of course, ma'am, lead the way." She takes the offered position as she walks next to her.

She looks over to see Ven and Sage being led away by two troopers, their armor decorated in black and white.

"I feel this squad will be satisfactory for what your division needs." The Kaminoan tells her. The lieutenant just nods along. "What exactly does your division do, Lieutenant?"

"Reconnaissance," Axta replies bluntly.

The Kaminoan hums in what she hopes is an approving tone. They walk through a set of blast doors and her breath all but wheezes out of her, the room is basked in a soothing blue glow, medical officers wander around with datapads peering into the cribs and tanks. "This is where we decant the clones." The Kaminoan leans down and gently picks up the baby.

Axta stands frozen, staring at a baby in a tank. She's read the mechanics on the gestation of babies without an actual womb but to see it is something else completely. It's so sterile and cold.

The Kaminoan offers her the child, who is bundled up in a white blanket when she is called by one of the officers. She gently takes the bundle and cradles it close to her chest. Axta didn't have a mothering bone in her body, she was awkward, stiff, her movements jerky and unsure. The baby has brown eyes and brown skin, just like the rest of the clones. He reaches out for a strand of her hair that has fallen from its pinned spot. "No, no, no. You can't have that." She lets him grab onto her finger instead, his skin contrasts hers, the light in the room makes her skin almost glow.  

An alarm goes off on one of the nearby monitors and a clone medic rushes towards her, his own bundle in his arms, "Hold him for me?" He hands the baby off to her with a single-minded focus. She situates the second baby in her arms and he coos at her.

She bounces both boys, "I can do this. It's just a baby." She murmurs to them.

"Hey LT! Where did the longnecks drag you off to?" Sage's voice comes from her wrist comm.

She tries her best to raise it to her face, one of the boys tries to grab at the flashing light, "Not exactly sure, she disappeared after handing me a baby. And then a medic handed me another one."

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

Sage leans over to Ven, "They took her to the decanting lab." He tries to keep the grin out of his voice.

Ven rolled his eyes, "Of course they did," He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Oh thank the gods, someone took them, I'm going to come find you." Her voice cuts through the comm.

Ven grabs Sage's arm, "I'm coming to get you, stay where you are."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." She sounds like she isn't paying attention to what he's actually saying.

Ven sighs, "She's going to kill me way before this war does." He turns to Sage and his squad, "I'll be back in a bit." He turns on his heel and moves down the hall.

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

She wanders through the white halls, clones look her over but don't stop her as she tries to take everything in. She turns down another hallway, this one with significantly less foot traffic, she breaks out of her haze when she hears hushed giggling and whispers. "Shh, we have to be quiet."

She pads silently to the dark alcove where the noise is coming from.

"What if Commander Blitz finds us? We'll be in so much trouble!" Another voice says.

"You're just embarrassed cause you got us lost!"

When she peeks around the corner she sees three cadets arguing in the shadows. One of them looks at her, "Oh no." His brown eyes are wide.

"Are you guys lost?" She asks.

One of them steps forward, clearing his throat and standing straight, "No sir, we're not." He tells her.

"I heard you whispering, Small Fry. You should work on that." She tells him.

He deflates, his shoulders slumping, "She knows." He groans.

"That's alright, I'm lost too. We can be lost together. I won't let you guys get in trouble." She crouches so that she's eye level with them, "I've got an ARC trooper looking for me right now."

One of the other two pushes his brother to the side, he has blonde hair, "An ARC trooper?!" He asks excitedly.

"ARC-4753. We call him Lieutenant Ven." She tells him.

The third cadet stays silent, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at the ground, he fiddles nervously with his shirt, worrying the fabric between his fingers, when he meets her eye she can see a scar on his cheek, "I got us lost, sir." He looks so serious for someone so young, they couldn't have been more than six, which means they would only be three standard years old.

"What's your names?" She asks softly.

The excitable one speaks first, almost bouncing on his feet, "I'm five-two!"

"CT-4567, sir." The serious one tells her.

She waits for the third one's name, "That's Shy. He's the only in our squad with a name so far," Five-Two tells her.

Shy looks up at her for a brief moment before his eyes are back to looking at his boots. "Alright," She stands and points to Five-Two, "Five-Two, Forty-seven sixty-seven," She points to the next cadet, and then she points to Shy, "And Shy. I think I can remember that. I'm Spooks, let's go find us an ARC trooper, shall we?"

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

When Ven turns the corner he finally spots her, her pink hair standing out in the vast amount of white. When the troopers blocking his line of sight finally moves he sees that a cadet is clinging to her back and another one is holding her hand, a third circles around her babbling on and on. She smiles and nods along.

Ven stops in his tracks, the sight makes his heart flutter. She's treating his younger brothers like they're actual people, not just future cannon fodder, she treats them like they actually matter.

The cadet on her back whispers something in her ear and her laugh rings out in the cold hall, it's a sound that takes his breath away, he blinks, reigning himself back in before he continues down the hall, "Lieutenant!" He calls out.

She whips towards him almost throwing the cadet off, he clutches her neck tighter. She looks down at the cadet still clutching her hand and says something to him with a small smile, pointing to Ven. The boy's eyes go wide, the one on her back slides to the floor and straightens his fatigues, the others fix their posture.

"I thought I told you to stay where you were." Ven crosses his arms over his chest plate, leveling a glare at Cerez.

"These cadets decided to show me around instead." She smiles.

"And are these three cadets happen to be the same ones that Commander Blitz reported missing and unaccounted for?" Ven looks down at one of them, he has blonde hair, a harmless mutation.

She shrugs, "They aren't exactly missing, they didn't leave the facility." She's one of the ones that know the regs just enough to find loopholes in them.

His glare intensifies.

"They were misplaced, not lost." She shies away a bit.

He motions over a clone dressed in black and white, "I think these are your missing cadets. Luckily, they asked Spooks for help."

"Oh good. We were getting worried, I'll get them back to where they need to be." The clone places a gloved hand on the shoulders of the two boys who step forward, the third still clutches at Cerez's hand.

She crouches down in front of him, "It's alright. This trooper will take you back to the rest of your squad. No reason to be scared." She explains, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving him a soft smile.

The cadet's eyes flit between her and the trooper before he steps in line with his brothers. She gives the trooper a nod before he leads the three away.

"Can we go get the new squad now?" Ven's voice is harsher than he wanted it to be.

She looks down at her boots, "My apologies, Lieutenant. Won't happen again." A piece of her hair falls onto her forehead, he wants to brush it aside but he restrains himself, his fingertips itching.

He sighs, "We're behind schedule, lets get moving."

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

Pep stands rigid, watching the controlled chaos of the hangar from under the safety of his visor. He's supposed to be excited about this, getting his assignment shouldn't make him feel this unsure. He takes a quick glance at Card, he's standing tall with his shoulders pulled back, his posture loose and easy.

He runs through what he knows about his assignment: 694th Reconnaissance Battalion, his platoon is led by ARC-4753 and an officer, Lt. Axta Cerez, he sounds like a decent guy. His squad leader is CT-4644.

"Get out of your head, Pep." Smidge cuts through the nervous ramblings of his mind, "Just relax. Everything will be fine."

Pep squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, willing away the nerves. They're lucky, their squad wasn't split up, the platoon needed five more men, it's easier to send a training squad than it is to shuffle around troopers already out in the field.

A gasp comes from Smidge's vocoder, "Is that them?" He asks nodding towards the group of men in battered armor. An ARC trooper and an officer lead the group. The ARC's face is set in a stern expression, a scar cuts across his left cheek. He can't take his eyes off of the officer, her skin is a mix of grey and a light purple, her hair a pink that can only compare to the pictures of contraband candy they were shown, it curls and twists, pinned back. What surprises him most is the scarring across her eyes and the bridge of her nose, the cybernetics seems to look past his visor into his own mismatched eyes.

When the ARC steps in front of them, the squad snaps to attention. "I am ARC-4753, or as you will address me, Lt. Ven. This is Lt. Cerez." She takes a step back and a trooper steps forward, his hair is longer, unkempt with a green stripe, a small tattoo of a plant decorates his right temple, "This is CT-4644. Sargent Sage. He is your squad leader." Sage is trying to keep the smile off his lips but is failing miserably. He's clearly excited to have new recruits.

The woman steps up beside him, "Welcome to the 694th. We're glad to have you." Her smile is meant to comfort them but with her eyes, it just looks eerie, she looks almost like a ghost. "At ease."

Pep relaxes minutely. The four men behind Lt. Cerez move forward, one of them slings an arm around her shoulders, she smiles up at him, "What do you think, LT?" His hair is cut into a mohawk and a crooked grin covers his face.

"I think they'll do just fine." She says.

"We're needed back at Triple Zero, we should get moving." The ARC says coldly.

She nods, "Of course, lead the way."

Pep looks to Card and then to Flap and Flutter, none of them have taken off their helmets yet, not wanting to leave the safety of their visors quite yet. Compared to the seven of them they look like chumps, their armor spotless and buffed while the other plates are painted a lighter green the paint covering scratches and dings sustained in battle, with the scars on their skin to match. They're real soldiers.

Card bumps him with his shoulder when he walks by, "I said out of your head." He grumbles.

"Yeah, sorry." Pep looks at his boots before he follows.

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

They're quiet in the gunship, Oli and Enlo argue about the best way to calibrate the gyro-stabilizers on a JT-12 jetpack when one of them finally speaks up, "Why not calibrate during test flights? The user can calibrate it to their exact needs and specifications. It's unorthodox and can be a bit dangerous but it's more accurate."

Worm steps forward, "Not bad, kid. What's your name?"

"CT-7938, sir." The trooper replies.

"Your name, not your designation, Rookie." Sage buts in.

"Oh, uh. Flap, sir." The trooper reaches up to pull off his helmet. Axta finds herself staring, holding her breath. She shouldn't be nervous, she has a rough idea of what he looks like, she's in a gunship full of clones. She's excited to see what is different about him, what his personality has done to his facial structure, what his eyes look like and what color his hair is.

When he finally breaks the seal on his helmet the first thing she sees is a white stripe in his hair, it's small, just a patch with the regulation cut but it's definitely there.

Enlo grins, "You gotta spot there, kid."

Flap reaches up and tugs at the tuft, "It's just a mutation, Flutter has the same one." Flutter silently takes off his helmet as well, a small smile on his face as he too pulls at the white tuft.

Oli laughs, "You two twins?"

"We were grown in the same growth jar. It happens sometimes." Flutter is soft-spoken, everything about him has a soft quality, his eyes, his smile.

"What's your number?" Clocks speaks up.

"CT-7939," Flutter responds.

"Heh, cute." Oli giggles. "Flap and Flutter."

Worm elbows Oli, "Don't be mean. Do we need a reminder of how you got your name?"

Oli's face goes serious, "You wouldn't dare." His voice drops an octave.

Axta's eyes go wide.

Worm smirks, "Olee-oop."

Oli launches himself at Worm, "You bastard!"

Ven rolls his eyes, "Sage, control your idiots before they break something."

"Ey! Come on, not in front of the shinies!" Sage separates them.

"So why are we headed to Coruscant instead of out in the field? The rest of the battalion there? Ct-8721 by the way, you can call me Card." The trooper has a half-smile on his face, his stance easy and relaxed.

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

Pep notices a change in the group right away, the troopers drop their eyes to the floor and they draw closer to each other. Lieutenant Cerez has a neutral face when she steps forward, "The 694th Recon Batallion consists of one platoon at the moment. A surprise attack on their base took almost everyone out. Lt. Ven's platoon was on a scouting mission, Sage's squad was the closest so they ran back to help, he lost five men." Her tone is grim.

"There were no survivors?" Smidge asks.

She shakes her head, "No, there weren't any, that includes both The General and her padawan."

"Wait, so who's in charge then?" Flap asks.

"Spooks and I have been handling everything." Lt. Ven says.

"Will those men be replaced at all?" Card asks.

"At the moment, no. For now, we run specialized missions. Hopefully, we will have one soon to get you out into the field. For now we wait until we're needed." Lt. Cerez explains.

Pep finds himself nodding along with her words. They were made to adapt to anything so this shouldn't hard to adjust to. The woman smiles at him, the same haunting smile as before. "What's your name, trooper?" She asks.

Pep reaches up to pop the seals on his helmet, Card nudges him, "He's a little shy." He laughs.

He removes his helmet, "CT-8417, ma'am. Um, Pep."

She smiles, "I look forward to working with you, Pep."

"Last two, come on. We're almost back to the cruiser." Sage is glaring at Oli still.

Card speaks up first, "8721, sir. They call me Card."

Smidge adjusts the medpack on his back, "CT-7996. Squad medic. Smidge." Smidge's introduction is clinical and to the point.

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

A feeling of warmth sluggishly worms its way to her, she barely feels anything anymore after years of neglecting her Force training, after giving up that life, but every now and again she gets a wave of what those around her are feeling. Sometimes it's overwhelming happiness, joy, belonging, love, hope. Other times its profound sadness, grief and loss, anxiety, and fear. She's glad that her men have found a way to start healing after what happened.

She knows it will take a while for them to come to terms with the loss of everything they had known but at least this is a start.

[gwtwoimpsarewe]

Welcome to the Family

So, this story won’t make a lot of sense without context; but I’ll save that for another post. I wrote it to enjoy it and it’s my first full OC full prose. Hopefully ya’ll enjoy it too.

A quick helper tho set after the prologue bound by blood. So mild? Spoilers? 

Lorcan Vulthon - Norn, Roughly about 26 (circa 1332),(Ex-)Wolf Shaman,  (Ex-)Auxiliary Iron Legion Engineer, Vigil Initiate. Yes he was raised by wolves. (Not literally) 

Zariah Dào - Human, Roughly about 42 (circa 1332), (My Commander for the game, but operates under Lt. Commander to allow for easier rp), Warmaster of a Vigil Company, Lorcan’s new Boss, Has not tapped out since Claw Island. 

Veeck - my necromancer reaper I haven’t made but am taking from an old DnD character of mine, Asura, age unknown, The Deacon of Pain,  

A jungle stalker, tiger and one other feline mini follow him around that’s the joke. One of the JP’s for the Tiger den Achievement is what sparked this. 

Not sure what to tag it but it starts funny ends feelsy, found family vibes, if descriptions of eyes squick you (no harm just who’s looking at you, sudden eye contact etc) be wary or pass on, fluffy angst I suppose, emotional breakdown,

it ends happily I swear! 

(Don’t panic if things seem to change, I post and edit as I go otherwise I get locked in perfectionism spiral and never post at all.) 

-

“Boss.” 

Eyes shielded from the setting sun, Lorcan peered out over the landscape, comm at the ready. 

“Boooossssss.” 

Dusk crawled toward the horizon. Hazy smoke trails blown over the open fields lazily from the nearby mill, an end of a lovely day, on all accounts. 

“Boss!” 

The receiver came to life in Lorcan’s hand with an exhausted sigh of static as Lt. Commander Zariah sluggishly answered, “Yes, Lorcan. What is it?” 

The smile pulled over Lorcan’s face, unable to resist the urge to tease. “Kinda, an odd time of day to be sleeping sir.” 

It was utterly incredible how he could feel the dry stare-down and complex half lecture on the misuse of communications equipment in a brief pause. 

That was talent right there.  

Another sigh brought his attention back in, “I wasn’t, thank you, did you need something?” 

Brightening, Lorcan sat down in front of the mess of fur and leaves, “Yeah! I found your cat bed!” 

“… What.”  

Lorcan gestures at the pile of leaves at his feet although his officer couldn’t see it. “Yeah! One of your Sylvari, the one with the monotone-” 

“-Ours, and their name is Eir, -” 

“-Said one of your weird tiny death machines-“ 

“-Again, wild animals, and not mine-” 

“-Yeah, yeah, the striped one ran off and went to bed everything-” 

“-Tiger; and has been making beds not bedding, your Common is improving-” 

“I found one!” 

The crackle and whine from a heavy static sigh made Lorcan wince and pull the device from his ear. 

“...… You’ve found a tiger.” 

Something about the suddenly calculating monotone made his insides squirm as he forced the cheerful up another notch. “Well no, but I’ve found its bed, and now we have each other’s scents, and I probably will find it and we’ll form a life-long bond like rangers and shaman-” 

“Lorcan.” His name came gently, cutting off his rambling in a way that had nausea setting in. 

“I’m grateful you found one, does it look fresh?” The genial tone was almost disconcerting after seeing nothing but jaded exhaustion, and it was wrong. 

This was not how this works. 

This was a crank call. Because he’s Lorcan. The rambling loud, obnoxious idiot whose superiors while agitated are fond of. Lorcan, who did not want to do this all over again but here they are, and Zariah! Who’d barely known him three days! 

Who took him in without blinking after getting cut off from his war-band, who trusted him enough for a reconnaissance mission. Who put up with all his antics so far with a droll but benign stare; who—

A rustling came finally, along with the clink and slosh of what Lorcan knew to be the large mug of coffee usually in hand. 

“Lorcan-” 

“Stop that,” his throat felt tight, half leaping to his feet into a defensive stance, “You—Don’t-” The plains suddenly felt suffocatingly small, leaving him on edge and snarling into his comm. 

Burn him, what was he doing. 

“Lorcan.” 

“Stop that!” his ears were burning, eyes stinging against the smoke in the air. It was his name; it was just his name what the tar was his problem? 

The placid silence that followed nearly had him throw the damn thing down onto the rocks. Embarrassment burned viciously under his skin. He was better than this now. He wasn’t- 

“Lo-” 

He turned the comm offline. 

-

It was long past dark by the time he’d calmed down, eyes red and throat raw, hunched at the base of the tree.

Great first impression.

Really sold it this time.

Groaning, he dug his face into his knees to do something other than mope in the dark like a moody cub. Or worse start up again.

A skittering of rocks and not entirely muffled metal had him look up in time to see a silhouette with an obnoxious Asuran light nearly blind him.

“Mind if I come over? You turned your comm off.” Zariah inquired tilting his head to the side just before the last jump. “I can stay over here. Just wanted to-”

Lorcan waved him off with a flippant hand and shoved his face back down. “Make sure I hadn’t broken-”  

“-Your bones. Yes. Or anything else important to your personal self.” Zariah moved over the outburst with both a note of finality and comfort that had Lorcan looking up out of instinct, only to wince again at the mini sun in his Commanders hand.

“… If you're going to jump over, douse the Mouse-Light. Before I lose my eyes.”

 Immediately, the object dimmed down and out before far more familiar sounds came and a torch sparked to life. “Sorry about that, but I’ll ask you to refrain from derogatory names. Veeck is a valued member of our team and cares deeply about our survival.”

“… The Asura.”

“Yes.”

“Who rambles on about some new Entity?”

“Of Pain, yes.”

“… Boss.”

“Not up for debate, Lorcan.”

Heaving to his feet with a sigh, Lorcan reached out to him; “Well, can’t let them upstage me now can I. C’mon I’ll catch you; it won’t give you enough light without the M--……. beacon. From the Deacon.”

Zariah landed with a grunt into his grip. “You’ll have to share that one, they’d love that-what is that an idiom?”

“Not a clue.” Wearily sitting again, Lorcan stopped short as something small and purring wormed its way into his lap. “… Uh…”

“She likes belly rubs, and she can smell tears.” Was all Zariah offered settling next to him and safely anchoring the torch in front of them, while the Stalker wiggled about before she settled solidly into Lorcan’s lap. Big eyes batted up at him, as if pointedly proving Zariah’s point; said belly up and offered.

Slowly, Lorcan answered the demand, a new deeper slew of purrs unleashed in repayment. “I thought you said they’re wild.”

“They are. Or were, a few years ago. They found me in the Maguuma, when Mordremoth was; well you know.” came the easy answer, as Zariah set about digging in his pack and handing over a wrapped meat smelling something to Lorcan who merely blinked at it.

“You haven’t eaten since before you left and I know how Norn eat. Eat your dinner.”

Gingerly, Lorcan accepted the meal; before peering at him. “… Does this get any weirder?”

“Only if you let your guard down long enough for them to steal it.”

“Wh-Hey!”

 -

They sat like that a long while, quietly; with a lap full of warm purring death machines, a belly full with warm food and drink, and tired eyes watching the torch slowly burn down to a smolder.

The lecture never came; the ‘we’re alike you and I’ speech, the wise mentor talk, whatever he’d been expecting. Zariah just sat there, relaxed and was… well, there.

But then it made sense didn’t it. He was a tactician for a military organization, one of the high tier leaders in the Pact, leader of his own company; and Lorcan was an accomplished engineer and a perceptive people's person when he wasn’t being difficult. 

There wasn’t anything to say.

He’d freaked out, he didn’t want to freak out, but he did. He’d reverted to causing a scene and trouble because he was a full inferno of freaking the blazes out. About what any of this meant now. About where home was now. What he would do now. What his purpose was now.

Had another identity crisis in an evening flat because he kept trying to put it in a title. Wolf Shaman, Auxiliary Charr—anything that wasn’t just him. How else could he go back and show that he’d changed after all? Prove he was all grown up out of his awkward paws making a mess of everything.

Except he hadn’t had he-

“pWaCKth!”

Lorcan spat fur out of his mouth, leaning away from the incessantly batting paws from his lap companion.  “Hey! Hey! Hey! C’mon!”

“I told you. She smells monologues.”

“You said tears.”

Stretching out with an innocent hum that edged too close to playful to pass as sincere, Zariah rose a brow at him, “Mm? Did I? I must have misspoken. So terribly sorry.”

The words pulled a snort out of Lorcan at the obvious lie, “So, what, she just slaps you in the face at random? Or she’s just psychic and knows when you're spiraling every time.”

Turning towards him, Zariah rose the brow higher, something of a smirk toying in the corner of his mouth. “Oh, definitely a psychic; when I need it. Constantly. She can tell usually because,” His eyes glanced meaningfully at Lorcan’s lap, “I’ve ceased to pet her.”

Lorcan paused, looking to where his hands had fallen stagnant some time ago on her back, much to the indignant pout on her face. “… Oh.”

“Well.” He chuckled at his own obliviousness and began smoothing hands down her head and spine apologetically, much to her delight, “S’a good trick.”

“She tries.” A yawn dragged out the end of the sentence as Zariah settled down more against Lorcan’s side who moved to accommodate him.

Eyes glanced at the time curiously, “Aw burn me, Boss I’m-”

“Safe.” That firm tone was back again, even as exhausted as it sounded. “And that’s all I care about. We’ll go back when you’re ready.”

“Don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“Great thing about paper, it’ll be there when I get back.”

“What about orders? Don’t you have to know what’s”

“Anything I need to know, I’ll know through my comm, if it’s of immediate importance. As for orders, there are other commanders.”

“… How many hours you running on here?”

“Two and a half, I was in fact sleeping when you called me.”

“Boss-” An incredulous laugh cut short by an overused stubborn excuse.

“I had coffee.”

-

Silence lapsed again, softer as the torch barely glowed embers and Zariah’s breathing began to deepened, and slow against his side.

It wouldn’t have made sense for how lax Zariah was, after seven years of nearly non-stop war and fighting; if the moon wasn’t glinting off four Iron Legion Sharpshooters standing guard nearby that Lorcan could now see.

“Boss?” swallowing around the lump in his throat, Lorcan nudged him again. “Hey, Boss.”

There was a slurred hum, eyes not even opening as Zariah lifted a brow in answer “Mmn—yes Lorcan.”

“… Thanks.”

“S’ what ‘m here for.”

-

Epilogue (aka beeps an giggles)

For the weight of a Pact Commander, Zariah was unnervingly light once you removed the pack, armor, weapons, felines, etc.

Which Lorcan awkwardly got to know firsthand as the pint-sized (seriously how small was this guy) Asura fussed around this way and that muttering too fast to keep up with.

It was a very odd feeling of you break it you buy it, with the Commanders sleep schedule. Which cemented in his mind as no one else seemed bothered by the ranting Asura at his feet. 

“-two months! Two months! Not even! We were so close, on ordered leave, relaxing, vacationing, nearly had it! But no! The evil little box of death opens its evil little mouth and ruin everything! This does not please the Pain!”

Lorcan made the mistake of uttering “Does anything,” before realizing the error as he became the subject of the bespectacled, laser sharp, owlish gaze before off again as they moved in thought. 

Finally, with a decisive nod, they firmly shouted up to him, “…… Milk! Milk and Ink!”

(Seriously did the guy think he was deaf? Though they looked like they’d fit into his boot with room to spare, and he wasn’t exactly short himself.)

A tiny hand lifted into the air, fire in their eyes; “I shall explain!”

“Please don’t.” Lorcan begged.

“Easy Squeak-A-Veak, lets save converting until after we get Boss back to bed for a few hours. We’ve already got orders to meet up with General Soulkeeper in the morning.” Came the beautiful rescue from one of the other officers Lorcan couldn’t put a name to.

Whose hands lifted up immediately in a placating gesture, as the tiny Asura looked ready to implode, “Rephrase, to head over to General Soulkeeper in the morning.”

Small detonation avoided, the medic, nodded with minimal professional sulking, “He’s napping on the way there.”

“As always, you can try small fry, you can try. Eir wanted to see you; I’ll see that Boss gets settled yeah?” Offering a fond amused look, they winked at Lorcan who wasn’t honestly sure what to do with himself at this point of being ‘Boss-shelf’.

Veeck squinted but turned and left with a toddle out of the room. “I know what you’re doing and I don’t appreciate it but yes I will leave and stop scaring our recruit.”

“… Wasn’t scared.” Came late and lamely as the officer chuckled and lead him in to where Zariah was staying for the time being.

Which for the first few moments Lorcan was sure they got the wrong room before he finally spotted a bed past all the paperwork. “Is that a war table?”

“Mini-sized yeah, Rye sleeps in his office, it was the only solution after a long drawn out internal war lemme tell you.”

“How is that a win?”

“He used to do it on a cot armed with a coffee pot, and don’t worry about Veeck. Squeakers is harmless; they get dramatic with displeasure and pain cos it’s like a prayer offering? I think? I’m trying to follow it but I need a few more run throughs. They’re a lot calmer day to day.”

“…….. Oh! Good to know, thanks—ah…”

“You forgot my name already didn’t you.”

“……………………..”

Laughing they helped settle Zariah down and into bed, even tucking them in. Which by this point, Lorcan had one final question.

“…… Sooo, kinda curious. Why he’s not; you know.”

“Twitchy as fleas about being handled like a doll? He usually is, but this is day four of small naps and I made his coffee decaf. He’s out cold for the next three to five hours.”

“Burn me.”

“It’s a good thing, say goodnight if you want; just hit the lights when you're done. I’m catching a few myself before we hit the road.” They offered with a wave before heading out.

Lorcan absentmindedly gave a wave only to perk and try to call out; “Wait! You didn’t--…… tell me your name. Tar’nfeathers.”

Sitting down with a sigh he glanced over at Zariah, and with a crooked grin leaned over. “Night Boss. Still totally going to steal your tiger.”

A brow raised as tired, but amused eyes snapped open, “Still totally not going to let it happen.” Zariah challenged as Lorcan shrieked with a flail and fell off the bed. 

“Burn! Tar! and Feather You!”

Yawning with a final chuckle, Zariah listened to him stalk off and turn out the lights. “Good Night, Lorcan.” 

“Welcome to the family.” 

[my-happy-little-bean]

Could you maybe write me a little Patton angst? Like what happened to Patton after the whole Deceit pretending to be him thing? I mean nothing long or anything just like a mudfic and you don't have too if you don't want to

a/n - apologies, i am geeking out right now, i feel like this is some kind of milestone for me — this is my first writing request. like, ever. i mean people have left me writing suggestions before, like “oh you should continue this one shot and write something like this” and all that, but i never formally fulfilled a certain person’s request. i feel all legit and stuff. s’cool :”)))

i honestly love writing lil’ informal tidbits — lets me play around with more symbolism and bolded/italicized text and stuff. i would ramble about it, but i feel like i would ruin the experience for you guys. honestly if you have any feedback/want to know more about the “writing process,” don’t hesitate to ask me — this was just my way of lowkey writing some more deceit; this time as a thought process rather than actions. it was v fun, so thank you for the prompt, dear anon :)

tagging @whatwashernameagain because i love her and she’s so supportive and she’s overall great, 10/10 friend. 

WARNINGS: mentions of manipulative behaviour, brief mentions of feeling sick/wanting to throw up, mentions of blood, implied panic attack, screaming [please tell me if there is anything else i should add. pls be safe when reading xx]

It’s only when Patton was alone that he realized that severity of what happened.

Patton didn’t want to tell Roman that if he felt used, the prince knew nothing of what he went through tonight. 

He sighed, walking to his bed and picking up a small picture frame off his bedside table. 

It was a picture of him, Logan, Roman, and Virgil; and it was a picture that he often looked at to calm himself down. He found comfort in the reminder that he was part of a family. 

Logan was caught mid-way through adjusting his glasses, his mouth parted slightly, as if he was also mid-way in explaining how a camera worked; Virgil’s hood was covering his eyes, but still showed his smug, yet warm, smile; Roman was on his one knee with his arms extended forward, winking at the camera with a rose in between his teeth; and Patton stood between Virgil and Logan and behind Roman, wrapping his arms around the two next to him and beaming.

Patton’s stomach churned; Deceit wore that smile. 

Patton loved his smile because it could make someone happy; so it made Patton furious to think of how Deceit used his smile with the intent of hurting someone.

He didn’t want to tell them how he felt, as he believed that the others were stressed by Deceit’s sudden decision to make himself known. 

He didn’t want them to know that he felt angry. The kind of angry that made Patton want to throw up.

Because no matter how much he tried to forget the events of the day—apologies were made, misconceptions were cleared up, everyone was fine—Patton couldn’t help but fume over the fact that Deceit practically made him go against his family. 

How dare he pick at Logan’s insecurities.How dare he manipulate Roman’s passions.How dare he hurt Virgil.

Virgil. The thought of Deceit using his close friendship with the Virgil to hurt made him sick. 

Deceit knew how hard it was for Virgil to trust anyone;how dare he try to take all of that away.

The frame in Patton’s hand began to shake. 

He should’ve tried harder. He was well aware of that. When his door was locked this morning, he should’ve pushed harder; he should’ve screamed louder. His ignorance nearly caused his family harm.

Sick,sick,sick.

Patton was close to crying or throwing up now. In his panicked haze, he dropped the picture and the glass shattered. 

Patton immediately shot up out of his bed at the noise, before looking down at what felt like a crime scene.

The broken frame revealed more of the photo, and upon closer inspection, he saw that the edge was darkened, and small spots of yellow lined the border of the picture.

As he stared at his family through broken glass,he sank to his knees and cried.

He pounded his hands again and again on the broken glass until there were small cuts of blood on his skin.

‘He could’ve always been there.

You can’t do anything to stop him;nothing, nothing, nothing.

Deceit could’ve hurt them—Oh God, Deceit would’ve kept going.

They wouldn’t have known it was you.They would’ve hated you.’

Patton hated to admit it, but he was weak. He couldn’t protect his family, he couldn’t do anything. Deceit lied to his family, using him to hurt them.

He felt used, and when he saw his bright smile was it his smile? through the cracked glass of the picture frame, he felt disgusted. 

The smile that his family trusted was used against them. 

Patton sobbed loudly. It was almost as if he was the one who told Deceit where they were so he could hurt him; he gave Deceit what he needed to hurt him.

Patton cried, covering his ears with his bloody hands. 

Too much,too much,too much.

He could barely hear voices on the other side of the door because of how loud his breathing was. He was shaking now, his thoughts racing.

“Patton?” he thought they said. “Patton, can you open the door?”

Patton stared at the door, and for a brief second, he remembered that behind the door was his family.

A family who understood,but could not forgive.

Patton’s bloody hand went over his mouth,and he screamed.

[kootenaygoon]

So,

I didn’t have to drive anymore. 

With my clammy forehead pressed to the moist glass of my RAV’s passenger window, I felt like a dying star sucking back black energy in preparation for going supernova. As Mika motored along the undulating lakeshore across the Big Orange Bridge, worriedly drumming her elaborately painted nails on the steering wheel, I compiled a mental inventory of everyone I’d alienated, everyone I’d hurt and embarrassed and infuriated, all the names of people who I’d lost because of my berserk antics and toxic personality. 

It wasn’t just the staff of the Star, Ed and Kai and all the rest of them. There was Blayne, and Becca, then Chelsea and now Natalya — plus Snapper and Niles, and a bunch of my co-workers at Tony’s. The list continued. Last of all I thought of Paisley, nearly two years gone now, along with our canine progeny and our dreams of a future together. I’d moved to Nelson with Muppet in my passenger seat four years earlier, and now I was leaving town completely alone.

It was around lunch-time and we were on our way to the Cranbrook Airport, which meant taking a ferry in Balfour. My parents had forwarded some money for gas and an overnight hotel stay for Mika and her two friends, who were chattering in the backseat. I wondered if she’d brought them because she was scared to be alone with me, if they were supposed to act as a social buffer so I didn’t overwhelm her with my manic ramblings. The last few days had been a torrent — I’d lost so many people already, was I going to lose Mika too?

I thought about the final montage of Six Feet Under, with all the different characters experiencing their ultimate fates while Sia sings. I wondered if I fast-forwarded to my death, would it actually be that far away? Would my departure be as incendiary as Ryan Tapp’s, as soul-shredding as Kessa’s, as Shakespearean as Bodie’s? I was 33, like Jesus when he was crucified, so any extra time was gravy. Right? I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Twitter, where opposing factions of the UBC Accountable conversation were flaming each other over new Galloway news. I continued to retweet and comment indiscriminately, relieved to have CanLit drama to think about rather than spectral Kessa and her dancing army of roller-skating women. 

I could hear them singing.

 “Oh-oh, I’m a rebel just for kicks now,” Laela sang in my brainspace, as a dude in white overalls danced through Sofiella Watt’s junkyard out in Blewett. “Let me kick it like it’s 1986, now.”

“Might be over now, but I feel it still,” I whispered under my breath, pulling up the YouTube video on my phone. 

Then there was that scene in Mad Men where Don Draper fires Lane Pryce, who proceeds to commit suicide in his office. This was an experience plenty of other people had gone through, right? Losing your job, social exile. This shit was temporary. My mind was a hellscape at the moment, but that didn’t mean it would be forever. I watched the clouds dance above the surface of Kootenay Lake through the trees, replaying the events of the past few weeks like a newsreel. I thought of Face Tatooo in the rain, about my multiple visits to the hospital, the two police officers who showed up at my door after some of my more alarming social media posts. One of them was mohawked and heavily tattooed, named Armstrong.

“I’m just trying to find the truth,” I told him. “The real truth.”

“There’s not a whole lot of truth in this world,” he said, grim, sitting backwards on a fold-out chair in the middle of my living room. I’d just taken him on a tour around my house to look at all my latest paintings. One of them was for my CrossFit gym, and showed me overwhelmed in glittery rainbow paint drooling down the canvas like blood. I asked him whether we could take a selfie together, just to show everyone I was safe.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. 

With my black toque pulled low over my eyes, I had posed with my arm around Armstrong’s back in solidarity. I could imagine the conversations on the other side of the screen: Why was there a cop in Will’s living room? And what’s all this nonsense about having a list of names, about fighting a kamikaze war against rape culture? I had thoroughly and completely lost track of reality, I understood that and I wasn’t shy about letting people know. But would they reject me now, exile me, ridicule me? Now that I’d been thrown from my journalistic plinth, did I even matter? I was just some dude playing at being a reporter. I could be replaced, forgotten about, made irrelevant. 

“I did that job better than it’s even meant to be done,” I said, more to myself than anything else. “I gave that newspaper my soul.”

Mika nodded. “I think everybody knows that. It was obvious you were so into it. But you gotta think ‘it’s just a job’ too, you know? You’re going to have lots of jobs.”

“How does it make sense that I have to leave town and fucking assholes like Snapper and Cam Carpenter and John fucking Dooley get to just continue on with their lives like nothing happened. I mean, I’m the good guy here. How the fuck does this make any sense? It’s not fair.”

Mika sighed. “It doesn’t need to make sense. You just need to get back to your family and get some sleep. This is all going to get sorted.”

I blinked back some more tears, fiddled with the radio some more, then took careful long inhales through my nose as I starred out at the frosted white tips of looming evergreens. We were almost at the terminal now. This is all a moment, I told myself, and moments end. 

“Hey, what’s with all the police cars?”

*

There was no way to escape the moment. Every thought was uncomfortable, my body clenched and sweaty. Had that just happened, or was I just being dramatic? Had I really considered throwing myself off the back of the ferry? What the fuck was wrong with me?

After we reached the opposite shore, Mika pulled over to share a joint with me at a quiet boat launch alongside the road. We were shivering in the wind off the lake. Everything else seemed drained of colour, but her hair was a bombastic fire engine red. It reminded me of Mharianne’s pink hair, and Sierra’s hair as well. All these signs led back to Me Too, back to UBC Accountable and Steven Galloway and even my pastor Trent. I thought of my time in the subterranean tunnels below Nelson with Gordo, of the crypts waiting there. The whole town was built on a graveyard, the lake full of drowned souls, and ghosts swirled through the alleyways. Looming above it all was Elephant Mountain, rumbling to life like a buried diety returning to the light, throbbing with purple energy and ready for resurrection. His followers danced shoulder-to-shoulder on Baker Street in flamboyant Shambhala outfits, totems held aloft, while zig-zagging lights pulsed in time with their ecstatic ululations. Were they worshipping? Or praying? Or what?

“Can I have a hug?” I asked her.

She hesitated for a moment. Shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

It was a weak hug, without any warmth. I felt pathetic and needy as I sucked back the last few hoots on the joint. I owed this girl a lot, but I couldn’t expect our friendship to survive long past this. She was just my latest casualty.

“I really appreciate you driving me, and everything. You didn’t ask to be a crazy person’s roommate.”

She grimaced, shrugged against the wind. “You’re not crazy. But you should’ve worn a condom, and you shouldn’t have taken those fucking pills while you were at work. I know you’re going through a lot, but these were bad choices. Do you understand that?”

I blinked for a long moment, surprised. It was like being lectured by a younger sibling. “I hate myself every day. I’m doing this whole mental inventory thing and I know I’m an asshole, okay? I really fucked up, I get that.”

She squinted suspiciously. “Do you?”

A while later, as the evening sky turned the colour of milky coffee, we pulled into the airport parking lot. I’d already left my cell phone and computer behind, and just had a simple carry-on. I tightened my tie and checked my reflection in the glass, jutting out my chin dramatically. I’m dressing up for my breakdown. I didn’t know what was going to happen on the other side of this flight, but I was going to face it in bouncer black. I pushed my pink anti-bullying glasses into place, the last piece of my uniform. I thought of that elementary school flash mob, of the pink shirt I’d worn for years. Bully Free Zone. I thought of my Power by You canvas, about doing hand-stand push-ups and burpees until I left a sweat angel on the ground. I was an intelligent, passionate and talented motherfucker and this wasn’t the end of me. No way.

“Your plane’s not for a few hours, are you sure you’ll be okay?” Mika asked, pulling her coat tight against the wind. It was starting to rain a bit. 

“You should go ahead and get checked into your hotel. I’ll get a magazine or something. And I’ll let you know when I get to Vancouver. You don’t have to worry about me, okay? You did what you had to do.”

She bit her lip. “I want you to be okay.”

“I will be.”

This time we didn’t bother with a hug. She climbed back into the driver’s seat and pulled away, illuminating red rain puddles all around the RAV. She was safe now, and so was I. Lugging my bag over one shoulder, I headed to the ticket booth to arrange my way home. The Cranbrook landscape was strangely flat and barren, stretching out on all sides around me. There was a plane taxiing down the runway, its engine roar filling my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut against the rain, which was beginning to spray, and suddenly I was the narrator from Fight Club on the day his condominium was blown up by Tyler Durden. Staring at the smoking wreckage of my refrigerator, sifting through the blackened detritus of my life, his words echoed back to me: It’s only when we lose everything that we’re free to do anything. 

Right during that moment, as I contemplated the fact that Brad Pitt plays both Tyler Durden and Lt. Aldo Raine from Inglourious Basterds, a cherry red convertible pulled up to the curb. Andrew Stevenson was sprawled across the backseat with his shotgun, smoking a cigarette, Ryan Tapp dangled his arm from the passenger side window and Kessa was driving in her bare feet. She had the radio on high, playing Tove Lo.

“Imaginary friend, stay with me to the end now,” she sang, but it was Laela’s voice I heard. “Keeping me dreaming.”

I opened the passenger door for Ryan, and he bounded out of the seat with a theatrical flourish. He threw open his arms crucifixion-style, rolled his head around a few times, then took a long drag from his vape. Andrew passed him his bag, and he hooked it over his arm.

“I’m a rebel just for kicks now. I don’t know if you heard,” I said.

“Man, I’ve been following it all. You’re a fucking legend, man. Fuck that town, right? You went out Cobain-style, with a shotgun, you burned that shit down. You’re a magical soul. You’re a light.”

I blushed. “I didn’t get any of the answers, though.”

He pondered this for a moment, while Andrew climbed into the passenger seat behind him and pulled the door closed. Kessa put on her blinker and began to pull away, leaving me, just like Paisley and Blayne and Chelsea and every other fucking woman in my life. How many divorces did I have to go through? How many times would my heart be broken? I didn’t know how much more pain I could take, all my empathy for strangers.

“Look at you, giving a fuck when it’s not your turn to give a fuck,” Ryan said, doing his best impression of Bunk from The Wire.

I channeled McNulty. “What the fuck did I do?”

If on some level I was aware that I was standing in public, talking to myself, then this other part of me didn’t care anymore. I was like a character from a Denis Johnson short story, like a drug-addled Hunter S. Thompson mixed with Chuck Klosterman, maybe. I was capable of so much. I could make all of these inner minions dance on cue; my life was performance art. Nobody understood me, really, or what I was trying to accomplish. Not Spencer, not my parents, not Brendan or anyone. The only one who understood was Ryan Tapp. His bum-chin wagging joyously, I admired his close-fitting blue suit and his skinny tie. He was dressed like he was attending the opening night of some film festival, like he was ready to hit the red carpet. He took a lengthy, mischievous pull on his vape and smiled seductively.

“Where we headed next, Goon?”

The Kootenay Goon

[evans-addicted]

Plan: Avoid McCoy

(Bones x Reader) (Leonard McCoy x Reader)

Summary: takes place after Star Trek Into Darkness just before Beyond. In prev story “McCoy’s Dilemna” Reader is Christopher Pike’s daughter and they had been dating. This starts with them having been broken up for about 3 years, being back on the Enterprise again after Admiral Pike’s death.

Ths is for you @nervousmemzie hope you like it 

Word count: 3,301 (yowza)

***

“Lieutenant Commander Pike may I have a word please” Jim asked you into his office.

“Yes sir” you nodded and followed him in. He motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and he sat in the other, facing you.

He put on his friendly Jim face, so you took a deep breath and exhaled knowing this meant he was going to get personal. “I just wanted to check in with you to see how you are doing?” he asked.

“With all due respect Captain, I know you didn’t call me in here to ask me how I’m doing. I’d appreciate if you just cut the crap and tell me why you really wanted to talk to me” you sat back in the chair with a huff.

“Eloquent as ever I see” he smiled. “Jim we’ve been friends for years so don’t beat around the bush with me ok.”

Shaking his head “I just need... want to make sure it won’t be weird or uncomfortable for you” he sat back in his chair.

“Well damn man, don’t you think that is something you should’ve made sure to find out before we left on this godforsaken 5-year mission!” you joked and he laughed. “Look, I wouldn’t have taken the assignment and I don’t think you would have allowed me to be assigned if we both had any apprehensions about it” you added.

“This is true” he replied. “I just wanted to make sure you’re still doing ok, I guess. We both took your father’s death pretty hard and I know you took a lot of bereavement time afterward. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t jumping back into anything too soon” his smile faltered but he wasn’t being completely honest.

“I’ve told you before Jim, I’ve been ok for over a year now” you tilted your head and squinted your eyes, “Are you sure this isn’t perhaps about something, or someone else. Maybe Doctor McCoy?” you shot.

“The thought had crossed my mind. You guys just broke it off so quickly and it has been a couple years and as far as I know you two haven’t even spoken since” he replied looking concerned.

Looking down at the floor, not being able to make eye contact you asked quietly “Has he talked to you about me at all since then.”

“No not really. I mean there was a couple times right after the breakup but no he hasn’t” he rubbed the back of his neck not sure if you were going to be ok or blow up.

“Oh ok, well no I think I’ll be perfectly fine. I mean we are both the same rank so it’s not like either could boss the other around and hey how often is he on the bridge anyway right.” You rambled quickly. “Are we done”

“I feel like I’ve just hit a wasp’s nest Y/N” he looked worried.

“Why on earth would you feel like that? I’ve just got some things I need to do and not that looking at you isn’t just a delight JT, but seriously, I have work” you sassed.

He cringed at the name JT, but he also knew you never used it around other people. It was something you had started calling him years ago when your father, then Captain Christopher Pike, had taken Jim under his wing after his mother asked for help with you as a teenager. You and he were like brother and sister so of course the first time you called him that and he demanded you not ever call him that, it became his nickname.

“Ok, but if you need to talk PJ you let me know” he ruffled your hair as he stood. You smacked his hand away “It’s not the same, I actually like my nickname” you stuck your tongue out at him. He called you PJ to stand for Pike Jr. since he always tried to get your goat by telling you your dad always wanted a son but instead he got you and that was the reason he liked Jim so much. The two of you often got into fights because of it. Typical brother sister conversation.

Once you left the captain’s office you advised the Lieutenant working with you that you were going to take the rest of the day and left for your quarters. You were able to quell any tears from forming, but once the door shut behind you in your room, you fell on your bed and let it all out, sobbing for hours. It wasn’t the reminder of your father or his death that got you sad. It wasn’t the reminder of your ended relationship with Leonard that bothered you. It was that he didn’t even talk about you afterward.

--

It wasn’t even a week after your conversation with Jim that you started seeing Leonard in the corridors, or passing by an intersecting hall just as you happen to look up. He would come into the lounge to eat or drink with Jim, Scotty, or Sulu and you would immediately clear your plate and take your leave. If he was in a room first and you walked in, you excused yourself claiming to have forgotten something in your room and you left.

The few times he came to the bridge to talk to Jim you simply ignored the fact that he was in the room, or turned your chair to look at a different console facing away from him. This went on for about 3  weeks before the dreaded message came across your PADD. Your annual check-up was scheduled for 2 days from now with none other than Doctor McCoy.

“Excuse me Commander Spock, do you happen to know when the Captain will be back?” you asked.

“The Captain did not leave instruction on when he shall return Lieutenant Commander Pike. Is there any way I may be of service?” he replied.

“Would you be so kind as to change my checkup to Doctor M’Benga, or anyone else perhaps?” you asked as you handed him your PADD.

“I see you are scheduled with Doctor McCoy Lt. Comm. He is highly trained and more than qualified to perform a routine checkup is he not?” he asked obliviously.

“Of course he is, it’s just that I would really appreciate it if you could make this one little change for me” smiling big as if he would understand your implication.

“I cannot simply make a change without proper justification Lt. Comm. Is there something improper the doctor has done? Do I need to file a report?” he lifted his head and stood straighter than he already does.

“No no no, it’s nothing like that? Nevermind sir, It’s fine. Thank you” you smiled and grabbed back your PADD. Ugh if I tell Jim then he’ll think I have a problem and I don’t really. I just don’t want to avoid McCoy. Forever. That isn’t too much to ask for right. Well shit.

--

You stood there looking at yourself in the mirror for the 5th time this morning. Trying to persuade yourself that this is fine. This is going to be just fine. These checkups only take a few minutes and so you’ll just answer when he asks a question and you don’t even have to look him in the eye. Yeah that’s what you’ll do. You’ll look at the wall or the floor. You can do this. You can do this. Then why do you feel like you want to throw up….again. Ok, let’s just go get this over with.

You made your way to Medbay and told Christine you were here for your checkup. She smiled and walked you to Biobed 3. You grabbed her arm before she turned and left “Hey, why can’t the nurses do checkups? Why does it have to be Doctor McCoy?” you asked quietly.

“Um, we do checkups. Doctor McCoy scheduled this appointment. I thought you had asked for him, that’s why I didn’t think anything of it when I saw he was doing a routine checkup” she smiled and walked back to her desk. Well shit.

Just then his office door opened and he walked out. He was looking down at his PADD so he hadn’t seen you yet. You hadn’t seen him in 3 years so you weren’t sure what you expected to see. You thought that maybe with the incidents of dealing with Khan and almost losing Kirk and all that maybe he would look a little worse for wear. You had hoped maybe he had gained a ton of weight and slouched and stopped shaving and looked like a sloppy hobo, but he didn’t. He still looked ruggedly handsome with that damn furrow in his brow when he was concentrating. His hair was a little shorter and you liked it. His hands still looked strong and steady and you noticed it looked like his thighs were looking a little more toned than before. Hmmm, NO no no, just look at the floor Y/N!

“Good day Lt Comm Pike. How are you feeling today?” he asked as he finally walked over to you.

“Fine.”

“How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“So you’re not going to talk to me at all then?”

“I am talking to you” you tried not to sound snotty. You thought if you could just keep focus on this one small spot on the floor then you will hold your resolve.

“Oh I see. Speaking technically, then yes you are talking to me. I swear Spock is rubbing off on more and more people around here”

“Hmff” you scoffed.

“What’s that for?” he stood right in front of you. Damn it he was blocking my sight of the spot.

Look at his shoes, yes, just look at his shoes. “Oh sorry, nothing” you quickly tried to brush off your smartass response that you did not want to say or it will start a conversation you are not ready to have.

“Y/N why won’t you look at me?” he sulked.

Damn a direct question. I said I’d answer those. But I said that to myself so it doesn’t count. But I have to say something. Think think think.

You looked him straight in the face “Congratulations doctor on completing the first cerebral-cortex/brain-tissue graft. That’s a great accomplishment.” Throw him off topic, that’ll do it.

He sighed “Thank you.” He picked up his tricorder and scanned you. “Any pain, illnesses, or other concerns lately?” he asked in Doctor mode.

“Nope” you focused ahead of you at a spot on the wall.

“I’ve noticed you have been avoiding me around the ship” he returned to the damn topic of us.

“Hmm”

“Hmm that’s all you’re going to say. Hmm” he raised his voice.

You were tempted to blow up on him, but you were also determined to let it go so you simply replied “Mmhmm.”

“Good god woman I haven’t seen you in 3 years and you’re going play games and ignore me!”

Stone faced you looked him in the eye “Do not raise your voice at me Doctor McCoy.”

“How can you be like this? How can you have nothing to say to me?”

Oh no he didn’t! “I’m sorry what! How can I not have anything to say to YOU! Are you out of your southern fried mind!” you were the one yelling now.

“Yes, may I remind you that you broke up with me so why you are ignoring me like I did something wrong is beyond me!” he had that stupid wide eyed look he gets when he doesn’t understand something. And boy he does not understand today.

“I did not break up with you Leonard! My father just died and I said I needed some time to think and cope with things and you are the one who never came back. In fact you even started dating that Nancy chick after a few months anyway like the 2 years we were together meant nothing to you. So you know what, you take your tricorder and shove it up your ass McCoy!” you slapped the tricorder out of his hand and stormed out of the Medbay.

Christine and another nurse were whispering at the desk when you ran out with Leonard hot on your trail.

“Wait a minute here. You told me you didn’t want to see me anymore and never told me what was going on. You never let me try to talk to you or comfort you so what was I supposed to do, break down your door?” he yelled following you down the corridors.

“Jesus man you don’t know anything do you” you scoffed again. “I said and I quote ‘I don’t want to see anyone right now’ because I was grieving. That didn’t mean leave me alone forever. It meant like gimme a few days or maybe bring me some comfort food later or anything except tuck tail and run” you exclaimed whilst waving your arms in awe of his stupidity.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I miss the seminar on ‘do the opposite of what a woman tells you to do’ because I think I woulda remembered that one.”

“Oh my god Leonard, sometimes you can be so daft. I mean you didn’t even talk about me after we “broke up” so it’s not like you wanted to try anyway”

“What are you talking about!” he held his hands out in front of his face still keeping pace with you.

“Jim told me you didn’t even talk about me after. Like who does that? Someone who doesn’t care, that’s who” you pointed a finger at him stopping in front of your quarters.

“Woman I didn’t talk to Jim because he has the emotional intelligence of a cucumber. I wasn’t dating Nancy, I was seeing her as a patient. She was a therapist and I was seeing her about you. About us.” He motioned from you to him.

“Well what kind therapist doesn’t suggest you go help your grieving girlfriend?” You crossed your arms.

“Well that was what I was wondering too and I found out later that she was telling me to stay away from you and give you space because she wanted to make a pass at me. As soon as I figured it out I ran to your place to see you but you moved.” He looked dawn at his hands.

“You’re a grown ass man Leonard, you couldn’t figure out that you should’ve come see me sooner?”

“Well hun you remember I get divorced for not listening to what she said, so I figured I was going to do what you said. See how well that did me” he frowned and rubbed his hand over his face.

“You’re an idiot”

“I know”

You turned and went into your quarters. Turning to look at him “Bye Leonard” and you shut the door.

A few moments later your door chirped so you walked back and opened it to find Leonard leaning his hands against either side of the door with his head tilted down slightly. Looking at you scandalously “You still need your checkup Lt. Comm. Pike”

“Would you still like to give me my checkup Doctor McCoy?” you said taking a few steps back.

“Yes I very much do” he grinned and walked in.

Once the door shut behind him, “First let’s check those tonsils” as he closed the gap and cupped your face in his hands and he kissed you furiously. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Walking backward you pulled at the hem of his shirt. He stopped kissing you and let you pull it off him. God you were right, he was more toned than before. He must have been working out. Whatever it was, you likey.

“Let me check your pulse” as he kissed your neck. “And now for the lungs” he pulled your shirt off and threw it to the ground and looked at your breasts for a moment. “Yup them are healthy lungs” he grabbed them and squeezed as you laughed. He kissed the skin above the bra line then tugged at the bra to pull your left breast out of the cup and tongue the nipple.

You reached around and unhooked your bra as he slipped his right hand down into your panties. ”I’m just going to take your temperature Lt. Comm.” He smirked. You moaned as he slowly slid a finger between your folds and stroked your clit. You pulled him back to the bed and laid down on the bed. He laid down next to you continuing to pepper your breasts with licks and nibbles. He slid a finger into your wet core eliciting an excited moan. Soon he moved his thumb to your clit and added a second finger inside you curling them to your delight.

“Oh Leonard, I’m almost there baby”

“That’s right baby, cum for me” in that low gravelly voice you didn’t stand a chance at lasting longer. You bucked your hips as your release hit like a ton of bricks.

“That’s so good baby. You feel so good” he praised as he licked his fingers. You took his fingers and sucked on them after. “Ooh such a naughty girl”.

“Leonard”

“Mmhmm”

“Shut up and fuck me” you pulled him in for a hard kiss.

“Yes ma’am” He stood up and pulled down his pants and underwear as you pulled off your soaking panties.

He didn’t even try to be gentle and at this point you needed him so badly that you didn’t want him to be soft with you. He slipped in between your legs and inserted his cock to the hilt. He let out a low growl as you hissed at the pleasurable pain of it. He pulled almost all the way out and rammed himself into you again and again. The only sounds in the room were bodies slapping together and loud moans. He lifted one leg up and wrapped it around his waist to get himself an even deeper penetration.

“Oh my god, yes” you squeezed his biceps.

He pumped faster and harder and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten faster. And suddenly you were moaning out his name and he thrust a few more times before he released himself inside you. Panting heavily he slowly pulled out and laid down beside you. Both of your chests heaving, trying to calm down after the amazing orgasms.

He turned towards you and kissed you softly “I missed you so much”

“I missed you to Leonard” you rubbed the back of your hand down his cheek.

“You know I’m not sure I got a good reading. I might just have to take your temperature again” he shot you a toothy grin. You laughed “Oh my god you’re still a dork” and leaned in to kiss him again.

You heard your comm chirp “Kirk to Pike” and groaned as you leaned over and picked it up off your bedside table.

“Pike here sir”

“I just heard that you and Bones were fighting and yelling causing a commotion through the ship. You want to explain what part of everything will be fine did that fall under?” he commanded.

“I’m so sorry Jim. It’s fine now really” you tried to reassure him when Leonard reached over you and grabbed the comm.

“Look Jim she feels really broken up about that so she’s going to need to stay on bed rest for the rest of the day. Doctor’s orders. But don’t worry, I’ll give her a good once over to make sure she’s fit for duty tomorrow”

Jim heard you laughing in the background, shook his head smiling and shut his comm.

****

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @nervousmemsie

#star trek# chris pine #kirk #jim kirk #spock #mccoy #bones #karl urban