#Whatever you guys decide to choose is perfectly fine <3

[kaelidascope]

Saw this tag and wanted to assure possible readers that I am super super careful about pre-warnings! I have this note tacked on explaining how I manage overly sensitive content at the start of the fic;

Most of the tags come from off-screen mentions, implications, or said in passing by the characters. Any and all actual depictions of the graphic tags are skippable and isolated in their own chapters. I'd say this one focuses more on artistic depictions and symbolic imagery versus actual dead dove - do not eat. Sometimes one is harder to stomach than the other, but rest assured it's not terrible <3 But it's totally fine if themes like that in general are not up your alley! If you want to give it a try tho, I go overboard with pre-warnings of every chapter

some examples of what they look like;

[fictionismyreality3]

Hi! I love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something where it’s Bradley and the reader’s wedding and for the sendoff they do something like this causeI thought its was so cute. If you can’t that’s totally fine but thanks anyway! 🫶

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyRCdL3uZL8/?igsh=Zmx5NWd6aW1rOXRn

A Day to Remember

Tags: Rooster x reader

Notes: hi babes!! Thank you much for the request, sorry it took so long, school is kicking my ass 😅

Warnings: weddings, romance and everything that comes with it

"No. There's no way I'm gonna have oragami F-16s thrown at my head on my wedding day." You laughed incredulously. 

When Bradley had proposed, you thought your life couldn't get any better. You had a dream job, a dream man, and friends that had been exactly what you needed, even though they were unexpected. Telling the squad went exactly how you expected, everyone was more excited than they had been when Roo and Maverick survived the Dagger mission. But no one had been more thrilled than Phoenix. When Pheonix asked to help plan the wedding, you were hesitant at first. 

You had first-hand experience with her lack of party-planning skills. Somehow, even though she was incredibly organized during her work, the woman had an utterly disastrous record with parties. 

And your wedding was going to be a pretty big party. 

But how could you say no to Phoenix? She had been there for you through everything. From showing up at your door with pints of ice cream when your favourite character died in the show you were watching to going full Godzilla on the new recruits that tried to hit on you. It was nearly impossible to say no to her when she pulled her puppy dog eyes out and started reciting every favour you owed her. 

So you agreed.

"C'mon, please? It will be cute, I promise." She pleaded as you continued to put your toppings on your pizza. 

It was Wednesday, which Phoenix had decided was the designated wedding planning day. She would show up with a bottle of whatever you guys wanted to drink and you would make the pizza, frozen to accommodate for the cooking skills neither of you possessed.

"Look, I already let you get away with the abundance of mason jars, I'm not getting divebombed by a bunch of the planes that we fly." You grinned. 

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix conceded, and that was how a lot of the planning was settled. Phoenix would bring up hundreds of crazy ideas, and you would filter through her overly enthusiastic party planning to find the good ones. You and Bob would rein her in whenever she got carried away, especially when she brought up the idea of having a literal rooster at the wedding. 

"I think it's hilarious," Rooster said as you two got ready for the day. He came up behind you, turning you around to face him as he lifted you up onto the bathroom counter. Your hands automatically came to rest on his shoulders, fitting perfectly just like the two of you had when you met. 

"You have one already and you can't seem to get enough, honey." He continued grinning. 

You swatted at his chest, giggling as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, following a path that only he knew down to your collarbone. You tilted your head back to give him access to your soft skin that only he would ever earn, and your words came out in a breathy sigh. 

"I think you just-" Your train of thought halted as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. "You just like the idea of a little Roo running around, you brute." 

The rest of that morning consisted of him trying to make said 'little Roo' happen, not that you were complaining. 

The wedding was 3 months away and you were choosing your dress. Payback had insisted you go to the boutique that his grandmother used to run, saying that you could even get a dress for free. You tried to urge against it, but after his granda met you she wouldn't hear a 'no'. 

"Oh, it's so nice that my Rueben made some friends. Let me tell you about the time he.." 

So you agreed. 

Everything was ready and Phoenix was running around like a madwoman trying to orchestrate the chaos of venues, cakes and flowers into one magnificent symphony. It was 3 days out from the wedding and you had gone with your bridesmaids to the hotel Pheonix had rented to have some much-needed girl time. Rooster and the rest of the guys had done the same, probably off partying somewhere under Mav's watchful eyes. 

As you sat getting your nails done, the colour a baby blue that Rooster had picked out, you continued to poke at Phoenix for the details of the wedding. She had demanded to keep you out of the loop when it came to the majority of the venue decoration she had selected. Even Rooster wouldn't spill when you called him that night. 

"I don't wanna face her wrath, honey. You know-" He began. 

"Hey! No talking to the groom. It's bad luck!" Phoenix said as she plucked the phone from your hand.

When your wedding day finally came, you were a ball of nerves. As you got blindfolded and brought up to bridal sweet to get ready, you could only imagine what combinations of decor she had concocted. In your mind, you replayed the time she tried to throw a Christmas party for the squad that resulted in one too many poppers, a fireplace, and a whole lot of firetrucks. 

"Ready, kid?" Maverick's voice broke you out of your thoughts. 

Taking one last look in the mirror at yourself, the dress you had picked out making you look like a princess, you nodded and took his arm. As the two of you finally stopped in front of the doors that stood between you and your future, your heart swelled with anticipation. The sound of Bruno Mars 'Just the Way You Are' being played on the piano filled your ears, and Mav straightened where he stood, looking down at you with a proud smile. 

"That's our cue, kid. You got this." He whispered to you as the doors opened. 

All at once every ounce of fear or worry you had been holding on to dissipated. 

Phoenix had outdone herself. 

White Calla Lilies hung from the ceiling, surrounded by fairy lights and other perfectly placed bobbles. Every table was decorated with a centrepiece of forget-me-nots and daisies. The teary smiles of your family and friends stared at you in happiness. Even the mason jar candles sat in just the right amounts. 

Your eyes locked on Bradley, whose tears were already flowing, and you walked down the aisle without hesitation. 

Mav handed you off to Bradley, muttering a few protective words before going to take his seat as the priest began to speak. 

"Hey, you." You whispered to Bradley.

"Hey, hun." He choked out through tears. 

Both of you stood at the altar, grinning ear to ear at each other. Your vows to each other made sure there wasn't a dry eye left in the room. 

"You may now kiss the-" The priest began to say.

He didn't even get a chance to finish before Rooster already had his hands on either side of your face and was slamming his lips to yours. He was kissing you so hard your hands shot out to hold the lapels of his suit jacket so your swooning didn't cause you to fall over.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you could hear the distinct sound of Hangman and the other guys hooting and hollering as Bradley poured every single ounce of love he had for you into the kiss. 

You had your first dance to 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough', and before you knew it you and Rooster were being whisked away by Phoenix for your send-off. 

The same send-off that she had refused to tell you about. 

"Just don't get mad!" She said quickly.

"Nat? What do you mean? What did you do?" You looked to Rooster for help but he was wearing the same conspiratorial grin as Phoenix. 

Before you could say anything else, she was already pushing both of you outside. It took a second for your eyes and ears to adjust to the sight and sound of your cheering loved ones who were lining the steps of the venue. It took even longer to process what you saw in each of their hands. 

Instead of baskets of rice, everyone there was holding what looked like a piece of paper. You were about to ask Bradley what was going on, but then something hit you in the side of your head. Startled, you went to turn to see what hit you, only to be greeted with the sight of a mischievous Phoenix holding two origami planes. 

Two F-16s to be exact. 

Before you could react, you and Rooster were getting pelted by a rain of paper F-16s. You burst out laughing as he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the limo so quickly you barely got a chance to wave goodbye to everyone. 

You let out a sigh of contentment as you slipped into the limo, looking back at the perfect venue and perfect friends who had planned it all. 

Okay, maybe you'd let Phoenix plan every party you had. 

[mamashenanigans]

Bad Ending Event-AFO Writing & Art

EDIT: PRIZES HAVE CHANGED

Starting at the beginning of February, @possiblycringe and I will be hosting a Bad Ending event featuring All for One!

Writing or drawing a bad ending can be a challenge, so this is a great event if you want to push yourself to try something different!

This event allows for 3 different types of bad ending scenarios: a bad ending(the bad guy wins) at the end of your story, the aftermath of a bad ending, or nobody wins. You could even mash 2 or 3 of them together if you so choose!

Requirements

At least 1k word requirement for writers

Artists can do anything as long as it sticks with the bad ending theme and features AFO

MUST include AFO! However, including Yoichi, DFO(Dad for One), or other characters is acceptable as well as whatever world or setting you want. I.E. Real world/No Quirks, fantasy, sci-fi, historical, etc. All AUs are welcome!

Horror and gore are perfectly fine for writers and artists. Obviously, NO NSFW(you know what I mean!)

Prizes

Winners in writing or art have the option to choose either a fic or an art piece. This is a FIRST COME FIRST SERVE rule. I.E. Once both 1st prize winners are chosen, which ever 1st prize winner contacts me first and chooses art or fic, the other 1st place winner will get what the first contact didn’t pick. This is being done to give winners an option between the two, but to make it fair so one of us isn’t doing more than the other!

Winners that want Fics: Send prompt to me

1st Place: 2k words

2nd Place: 1.5k words

3rd Place: 1k words

Winners that want Art: Send prompt to @possiblycringe

1st Place: Full body color with cell shading

2nd Place: Half body color

3rd Place: Half body lineart

For those that may need examples, here are three of my works that represent each acceptable “bad ending”

COLD—example of a nobody wins bad ending. Horror

Alternatives chapters 2-3 & chapter 5 epilogue featuring the bad ending of a Mafia AU

Alternatives chapters 3-4 & chapter 5 epilogue featuring the aftermath of a bad ending where fat!AFO has already become Emperor of the world.

The official start date will be announced here and in Discord servers I’m in like Silver’s Vault come the end of January.

This is going to be a nice challenge for a lot of you and we’re both so excited to see how yall decide to torture the characters…and probably feed the glutton that is AFO 😉

[hazelcephalopod]

So mostly I try to just let the MCU be -for my own well mind as much as any issues with the MCU. But… im having thoughts tonight.

It’s been ages, and as I said I have mostly just been ignoring the MCU but I’m still not over TFATWS. So many disappointments, so many things could have been executed better. Like it was ok ultimately as a product. But I keep coming back to, who plotted this out and was in charge of characterization? Sam was ok, except for his entire background as a group therapy leader being utterly ignored. Or expanding much upon him as a character other than the bare minimum. Which actually becomes more an issue the more I think about it. And Bucky, I’ll get to Bucky. Then Walker is set up to become a guy I’m supposed to care about? Maybe? As a hero? No fucking way, that will be the day. Karli… geez… fucking a total mess that was. All the little things that they just didn’t care enough about it felt like.

Continue below for my rant about “What the fuck were they doing with Bucky in this series?”

So, Bucky. I know… I do but like he’s been around forever and I just don’t think anyone -well the hired and laid writers- knows what to do with him. He’s like the Castiel of the MCU -ok maybe not quite, that would be Loki. They just kinda throw him into the story in such a way that he’s intriguing! “Here’s the third(?) super soldier ever created. He was the second one’s, and first successful one’s, best friend. Like closest you can imagine. Would die for each other close, sleep with each other close -what do you mean gay?! Anyway, he’s supposed to be dead, but instead he was experimented on and has been cryo-hopping through the last few decades as a brainwashed dissociating assassin for the… Soviets? Hydra? Secret Nazis? All of the above? The baddies. Ok now the hero will have to spend two movies trying to find and free him, the most important person in his life (based on the content of these movies). All while trying to find love but for some reason he can’t…” like, yea it made me a little weird. It’s weird! And also sounds like an epic love story! Steve decided he must free Bucky from the brainwashing and mental chains the baddies have placed him in and through his love friendship he does! Bucky’s mind starts coming back to him, he is able to pull himself out of a state of deep dissociation tbh. It’s.. a choice. And then Steve chooses him over everyone in the world basically. So… that’s the basis of Bucky’s character.

So, now comes this series where the mysterious, dark hero with a troubled past and [gestures to that story above]. Is one of the main characters! Steve? He went back in time to be with his ex who a) died; b) lived a very happy life without him; c) leaves everyone he knows here. (Won’t get into that again).

Anyway, Series starts. Bucky wakes up from a horrific nightmare of the violence he was forced to do sleeping on the floor in a bare, in decorated, mostly furniture-less apartment. He is in therapy tho. Also, probation (which is a bundle of what the fuck). Part of his therapy is “He has to ask people he has wronged to forgive him.” Forgive him… for his actions… uh… his actions that hurt them… while he was brainwashed (with basically mind control technology)… ‘k. Right. So… someone decided “hey the brainwashed guy who, was being tortured into a state of mindless compliance.” Literally. That is what the pain chair did. “Yeah? Is uh… required to ask forgiveness to be absolved of his crimes. For the therapy for his PTSD or whatever. And then he’ll be forgiven by this one guy.? And he’ll be ok. Also he’ll decide to accept violence back into his life and end his therapy.” Right… that counts very healthy /s. (BTW I think whoever wrote this thinks that is perfectly fine).

Like, the guy I saw in Cap 2 seemed partially checked out most of the time. Possibly except to fight. In Cap 3 he could be sent into a mindless battle state with a couple words due to whatever torture he’d been through. There’s video proof! Wakanda did most of the heavy lifting, getting rid of the brainwashing (mostly). The therapy is just… idk, cuz? At minimum it’s bad, a bit negligent. Makes the therapist appear sorta incompetent at times. At worst it seems like a conspiracy and possible maliciousness on behalf of the therapist. But that’s never explored because it’s not what this is about. Which begs the question, why include it?

I understood the narrative, but there were deeper levels then “he feels guilty because he was controlled to do murders”. Like maybe it’s more complex than that? I can’t remember anyone saying “it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you.” Or something to that effect. Even if that’s not what he wanted to hear I think someone should have said it and had that conversation with him. Idk. Just… just saying. Now he’s gonna be the healthy one in the Thunderbolts or whatever. Is that earned? Really? Idk man.

[miafeystits]

ace attorney (obv) & let's say run with the wind

wooo thank u!!!

ace attorney: (im gonna focus on the mainline series i think but if tgaa shows up well. that's to be expected considering everything about me.)

Favourite character: for the main series honestly its SO hard to decide, i'm constantly going back and forth between trucy, franziska, edgeworth and mia depending on the day. for tgaa well. obviously it's kazuma lmao.

Funniest character: this is so hard because literally every ace attorney character is so funny in their own way i literally don't know how to choose. i guess ill just use this answer to shout out godot & van zieks who, despite both being characters i'm at best kind of eh on, are redeemed in my eyes on account of being the funniest motherfuckers alive in the courtroom.

Best-looking character: look at my url. who do you fucking think.

3 favourite ships: EXTREMELY boring answer sorry but for the main series wrightworth klapollo & franmaya (lanamia coming in a very close 4th), and for tgaa its asoryuu, [redacted on account of spoilers you don't know yet], and susahao/susarei/whatever we're calling it

Least favourite character: the entire cast of turnabout big top lmao. if we're narrowing it down to just major and/or recurring characters though uhhhhhhhhh. larry probably. he has his moments but i'd be perfectly happy never seeing him in an ace attorney game again.

Least favourite ship: i know some are pretty popular but i honestly don't really like almost any ship including van zieks because i simply do not care about him as a person. also i'm personally not comfortable shipping him with people he's like. actively racist towards for large portions of the game lmao.

Reason why I play it: i love mystery/puzzle games!!!!! and also something about this game series permanently altered my brain chemistry and made it so i can never fucking shut up about these games ever. something about how the characters and their relationships in particular are written just really resonates for me i think and that's why i keep coming back--- so much of these games is deeply, deeply silly but that doesn't stop the characters from feeling very very human, idk.

Why I started playing it: honestly i don't fully remember! i think i played the trilogy + apollo justice on my ds around 18/19 ish, and i was just generally going thru a mystery/puzzle/visual novel ds game phase around this time (i also was playing the zero escape series) but i think i'd probably heard about this game via tumblr. and fast forward years later and i have a whole corner of my brain exclusively devoted to ace attorney trivia, thanks shu takumi

run with the wind:

Favourite character: despite the fact that i am fully obsessed with haiji's whole deal my favorite is probably kakeru tbh!

Funniest character: 100% haiji. mansplain manipulate malewife icon. literally who is doing it like him.

Best-looking character: i can't believe i, a lesbian, and being forced to make this call but also. like obviously it's haiji.

3 favourite ships: kakehai is of COURSE number one on account of being the mostly insanely stupidly in love pair of weirdos ever, and to a much lesser extent i'm also fond of musa/shindou. and for a third one idk if this is a ship exactly but i do really like the idea that fujioka & haiji had a Thing when they were younger and are currently something along the lines of amicable exes

Least favourite character: i dont think there's any character i actively dislike (who i'm not Supposed to dislike) but the twins are kind of annoying sometimes. also. hana honey i'm sorry its not your fault that this show can't write women but her character is really flat :/ but that's sports anime for you i guess

Least favourite ship: akane/kakeru is like. Fine i Guess but i much prefer them as friends and really don't understand the popularity of this pairing. kakehai is literally right there guys.

Reason why I watch it: apart from the normal reasons i get into sports anime, run with the wind really resonated with me because it's about young adulthood & the ups and downs that come along with trying to figure out your life at that age. especially since most of the characters don't have lives entirely centered on running and sports, it makes their stories not only enjoyable & charming but also deeply relatable in a lot of ways, esp when you're around that age yourself. i watched the show as it was coming out during my last year of undergrad, and it really captures the anxieties of that stage in life and sticks with me because of that. ALSO. haiji is there and im obsessed with him.

Why I started watching it: once again i don't fully remember but i think it might have been your fault. we definitely watched the show together as it was airing so this is what i'm choosing to believe

[elsdaydreams]

What dates would the assassins/templars take you on?

Altair Ibn La'ahad, Malik Al-Sayf, Ezio Auditore, Yusuf Tazim, Edward Kenway, James Kidd/Mary Read, Haytham Kenway, Shay Patrick Cormac, Connor Kenway, Arno Dorian, Elise de la Serre, Jacob Frye, Evie Frye, Shaun Hastings, Desmond Miles

Warnings - mentions of alcohol and drinking

Word count - 1666 words

Description - What kind of dates the modern assassins and templars would choose for you to go on.

Authors Note - Another request from @axxaxxinx thank you so much for your requests!! They were so fun to write, I hope you like this love <3 I wrote all of them in the modern au, which I hope was okay/what you were thinking. Sorry this one is shorter than my previous headcanons. Hope you're all having a wonderful day <3 ALSO wait, before I go, I hope Arno's isn't like incredibly American??? Sorry y'all lmao love you Ella x

Altair would take you out on lowkey dates. To be honest, I don't see him as a huge dater - so dates to him are normal trips to the supermarket or something along those lines. Especially since his love language is quality time, he thinks small trips to the bank are dates. He saves more for the really special dates, for your anniversary or maybe your birthday. Anytime he spends with you is important to him. If dates are important to you, it'll take a minute for him to plan it out and make it special for you. He'll probably go the safe route, and bring you out to dinner. It wouldn't be too fancy, but just enough to dress up a little bit, and he splurges on stuff he normally wouldn't.

I feel like Malik would bring you to a library, or a coffee shop. It's more chill than anything, especially when he's getting to know you, he thinks it's important to connect in a relaxed environment. It's never too showy, just enough for the both of you to get comfortable around each other. Eventually, the places you frequent on dates are staples in your lives. I picture a lot of reading next to each other and being in each other's company without many conversations. Occasionally you'll both take breaks and discuss whatever it was that interested you in your reading. I also see study dates, especially if you met each other in college.

Ezio would absolutely take you out to a club. He gives off the life of the party energy, and his dating life would show that. Without a doubt, he goes off your energy. If he can have a good time with you in a crowd dancing, he'll take you out to dinner next. When he decides he likes your vibe enough, he'll bring you out to a fancy restaurant - very fine dining, and a lot of wooing would happen with him. If that's not your speed, you'll probably have to plan the next date - he might've chosen a cycling class for the third date.

Yusuf is a coffee shop kind of guy, but I also see him bringing you out to brunch. He's very chill, but also very energetic, and I think brunch encapsulates that perfectly. When your relationship develops more, it becomes a regular thing, maybe every Sunday that you're out to brunch. It's a nice way to spend time together, especially if you have opposite schedules, to come back together and discuss the week previous, or the one ahead. He also likes to try out different brunch places, so you'll rarely try the same place twice unless, of course, it's a place the two of you loved. I could also see him taking you on long walks through the park, mostly because I envision a modern Yusuf owning a dog.

A pub is the most obvious choice for Edward. He's somewhat of a rowdy bastard, and I see him bringing you there and showing you off. Besides that, he wants you to meet his friends, because believe it or not what they think matters to him. I also think it would take bringing you there a couple of times before you'd be able to meet Drunk-Edward. He's a completely different beast than the reserved, somewhat sober Edward. He's still fun, a great time, but he wants to make sure you're comfortable and will be a good fit before revealing more about himself.

Mary would probably want to do something locally, and honestly, I see her bringing you to her place and cooking you a meal there. She's proud of her humble abode, and it's very comfortable. And surprisingly, she has decent cooking skills. I feel like she'd bring out a puzzle, or a board game while the food simmers for a while, or just drink wine with you and discuss different aspects of your life. It's relaxing and calm, and the perfect way to get to know someone, at least in her opinion. Besides that, I think it's her simple way of telling you that you're important to her.

Haytham would choose a fancy restaurant for the first date, but if he decided he liked you, he would bring you to the bar he frequents. It's something of a trust thing, he likes the places he likes and the people he likes, and if it didn't work out between the two of you he wouldn't want to run into you there. Opposite of Edward though, Edward goes for a good time, I feel like Haytham goes and enjoys a glass of brandy and talks about philosophical things.

I see Shay as someone who is decently outdoorsy. He'd either bring you out on a hike - nothing crazy, just a walk around maybe a lake or something. To be honest, he enjoys his time outside, so he wants someone who shares that passion with him, or at the very least, tolerates it for a while. I also could see him bringing you out on a sailboat. Shay is a romantic at heart, so he'd plan it out so you could watch the sunset (or maybe the sunrise, if you're a morning person. Shay would take your likes/wants/needs into consideration, because of course he would) and eat a meal together.

You're gonna tell me that Connor wouldn't take you out on a picnic for dates? If so, you're wrong, he absolutely would. He's another outdoorsy person, same as Shay, except that he spends much more time outside. If you're at his house, he'd plan a lunch close by. I could also see him planning bonfires, not necessarily huge parties, but with you and maybe a few of the surrounding neighbors. It's almost always pretty private and intimate, but it always shows how much thought Connor puts into almost everything. It's also pretty sweet to hear him ask about the neighbor's lives too.

Now, I could see Arno bringing you to festivals. Not music festivals, but local ones that come through the towns on occasion. There's a summer solstice festival two towns over? He's already known about it for weeks and was taking you tonight. He's somewhat (very) sentimental, so he likes bringing you there and taking pictures, eating fair food, and collecting memorabilia. When you ask why he loves them so much, he'll mention that he wants to show your kids all the cool places and things you did together before them.

Elise would choose something artsy. I'd say paint and sip but that feels too casual for her, she'd probably go with something like a pottery class. Even if the class is too advanced for you, and the vase you attempted to make is completely wonky, it's something when you move in together that would sit on a shelf. She likes to try new things and is fairly adventurous, so I feel like she'll drag you along to whatever new art project she wants to try. Sketching and painting, she even drags you up on an air balloon to get a good view/reference photo for an oil painting she wants to do. Your home easily becomes filled with things from your artistic endeavors.

Jacob would absolutely bring you to a sporting event. I feel like he'd like wrestling, or maybe rugby. If you know nothing about it, all the better, he explains everything in detail in between screaming and cheering for his teams. I also feel like he'd play said sports on the side, and having you there supporting him would mean a lot. Jacob would probably like seeing you in his jersey. Another date idea I could see him trying would be making you dinner - but it'd be so burnt and inedible that you'd just end up in front of the television eating takeout. The thought was there, but the second option was much more Jacob, so it was perfect.

Evie is a farmers market gal and you cannot convince me otherwise. Every Saturday, without fail, the pair of you will make your way through the stalls. Good bread, local honey, a bouquet filled with flowers Evie loves, and fruits and vegetables have been bought - all treats you fill your house up with. Now at that point, once every stall has been combed through and things have been purchased, you'll either go to the coffee shop and grab a cup of tea and walk around town - or, if it's later in the day, you'll just go home and cook up the food you bought. It's always a team effort, and you both make sure that the table is set nice with flowers and candles and all.

Can't you see Shaun bringing you to a museum and telling you everything he knows about the subject and history of an object? It would be something that you'd do in every city you visited, trying to find the history in a small town you were stopping over for a night. Whether it was an actual museum or maybe just an old house the town showed off, what you would learn, or what Shaun could tell you about a hidden history of it, would be the highlight of your trip.

See, I can't see Desmond on a specific type of date? I feel like I could see him taking you for drives on his motorcycle. Think, dive bars, small concert venues, smoking outside but being wrapped in his leather jacket. Going stargazing and trying to find constellations or counting the shooting stars you see. He's for sure a nighttime kind of love, wrapped up in darkness. I can also see hungover breakfasts shared together. It's something that goes fast, only because it feels like you've known each other for so long. You choose to skip over the fancy dates, the awkward getting to know each other stage. I can also see you going to his job, and him giving you drinks for free but only because he can.

[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

[formulawonu]

Omg that enemy to lover fic with Lance was superb *chefs kiss* lol! Can you do another one were you’re like Seb’s little sister and you and Lance don’t really get along and you two accidentally get locked in a room together and there’s cute teasing and bickering when you two accidentally touch hands and have a moment and kiss as it gets a little heated you get caught by Seb. I think that would be sooo goood

locked up / lance stroll

(not my gif! credits to the owner)

warnings: just a little steamy, kissing, bickering... uh yeah

a/n: hi i'm finally getting through the requests!!!! this one didn't really turn out written how i'd hoped for it too but here it is haha hope you enjoy it :3 trying to get out of my writer's block merp thank you requesting this one!

No. No. No. This can’t be happening to you right now. You were supposed to be on your way back to the hotel, getting ready for dinner before your brother got back from the paddock. You initially didn’t even want to come watch the practice sessions today, but you found yourself bored at the start of the day and came out anyway. Wrong choice. You twist the doorknob in front of you, willing for it to magically click open. You groan as the door remains jammed shut.

“This is your fault.” The voice behind you says. You hadn’t meant to enter his room, but you swore you could hear the voice of the creepy guy who wouldn’t stop bothering you every time you were in the paddock from the end of the hallway so you forced yourself into the nearest room possible. It just happened to be Lance Stroll’s personal room. “How was I supposed to know you can’t keep a door fully functional?” You shoot back. Lance chuckles from where he is perched on the sofa. “Or maybe you actually wanted to get locked in a room with me. It was working perfectly fine until you slammed the door shut entering.” You shoot Lance a look. “I would not want to be stuck with you anywhere.”

You and Lance had never really gotten along. You wouldn’t go so far to say that you absolutely hated each other, but you both would definitely not choose to spend any time with each other if it wasn’t necessary. You agreed to try to be civil with him when Seb, your brother, asked you to be nice since he wanted you to get along with the new team he joined. For as long as you could remember, you were always there to support Seb at races when you could. You loved meeting the people he got to work with and learning more about the sport. It just so happened that the only person who rubbed you the wrong way was Lance and the air of cockiness that seemed to surround his every move.

So the universe probably thought it was being really funny when it decided to have you and Lance stuck in a room together. “Why are you even here?” “You’re literally in my room. I should be asking you that.” Lance deadpans. You feel your cheeks heating up, annoyed that he does have a point. You power on anyway. “No. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be doing driver stuff like analyzing data instead of just sitting here?” You pull your phone out as you say this, thinking about whether you want to bother your brother or not. You know Seb would make sure you were okay, but you also know how important his time with his team is and you don’t want to interrupt any of his sessions. “I don’t know how this concerns you, but I was actually just changing out of my race suit when you barged in.” You look at the direction Lance has pointed to and see a discarded race suit sitting in a pile on the floor. “And you don’t lock your door when you change?” “Clearly not because I’m always desperately wishing you come in and catch me changing.” You roll your eyes at Lance’s sarcasm. “I’m sure you do.” Silence envelopes the room and you stare at the floor for quite some time, once again weighing your options to just phone your brother. Lance is typing something on his phone. “You can sit down, you know. The floor is quite comfortable.” He jokingly offers after a while. You look at Lance, sitting comfortably on the large couch. “Glad to know I’m only worth sitting on the floor.” Lance rolls his eyes. “Do you want to sit beside me?” He offers, the expression on his face revealing he’s sure you would rather not. “I think I do.” You reply, just to challenge him. It’s always a game with Lance. You plop yourself on the opposite end of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible. “If you scoot over just a bit more, you’ll end up on the floor anyway.” “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want me to sit closer to you.” You tease. Lance scoffs. “Where are you pulling this out of?” You move marginally closer to him. Lance shifts in his seat, unfamiliar with the new space (or lack, thereof) between you two.

“Are you getting nervous, Stroll?” You say, placing your hand between the both of you to steady yourself as you lean forward. Lance meets your eyes, holding your gaze. The atmosphere in the room has suddenly shifted, the awkwardness that Lance initially had disappearing as quickly as it came. He leans forward and says, “I think you are.” You’re about to say something back when suddenly you feel something touch your hand. You glance down and see that Lance’s hand had landed on top of yours as he was leaning forward. You look back up and raise an eyebrow at Lance. “Well, I think you are trying to make a move on me.” Lance does not move his hand from yours. “And if I am?” You smirk, amused by the situation. “And if you are, what?” Lance eyes move from yours down to your lips. “And if I am making a move on you, what does that mean to you?” His eyes meet yours again. “Well, what does it mean to you?” You tease. Somehow, the space separating the two of you has grown even smaller. “You just can’t answer properly, can you?” You nod in reply. “Sometimes, I wish you would just shut up.” Lance continues. “I didn’t even say anything.” You whisper now, the both of you way closer than you’d ever imagined possible. You can see how brown his eyes are, never really noticing before how pretty a shade they are. “But all of the other times, I know you do it on purpose to rile me up.” Lance’s hand is now drawing circles on yours. “It’s just so fun to do when it’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Actually-“ Your train of thought is cut off as Lance suddenly eliminates the space between you both. The first thing that enters your head is: oh my god we’re actually kissing. The next thing is: oh my god he’s actually really good at this.

You kiss him back after a while, your free hand now resting on his chest. Lance moves his hand from the one resting on top of yours to your waist, squeezing gently. You let out a small gasp at the contact and Lance takes that opportunity to deepen the kiss. You break away from the kiss, moving down to his neck and planting kisses. Lance pulls you on top of him, making you straddle him. “So that’s how to get you to shut up.” He says, his hands running up and down the sides of your body. He brings your face level back to his and kisses you again. You push yourself closer to his body, feeling his excitement by your inner thighs. He groans in the kiss. You start shifting your hips forward and back, the feeling of your center rubbing against him building pressure in the bottom of your stomach. Lance starts kissing your jaw. “You look so hot right now, trying to get yourself off on me.” The pleasure you’re feeling multiplies, his words almost pushing you to the edge. You continue rocking back and forth on him as he whispers into your ear. Lance’s hands are now under your blouse, feeling you up. “That’s it, go on. Let yourself go.” You can’t believe you’re actually dry humping him right now, the thought of it so dirty in your head but strangely turning you on even more. You can tell Lance is turned on too, his hips moving with yours to help guide you. You can feel it build up. It’s coming. It’s coming. It’s-

“What the fuck?”

If there was ever a way to kill an orgasm as quickly as possible, it would be this. You and Lance are both frozen in place. You’ve stopped grinding on him but his hands are still on the skin in your back. You’re both staring at each other wide-eyed. That could only be the voice of your brother. “I came here because Lance is texting me, begging to get you out of his room that you’re both locked in and you’re doing this? What the fuck?” You can’t bring yourself to meet Seb’s eyes but you get yourself off of Lance immediately. You plop yourself next to Lance. “It just happened?” You offer, finally gaining the courage to look at your brother. Seb shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. He looks at the both of you, clearly displeased. “Yeah, whatever is going on here, fix yourselves. You’re both old enough. The door is unlocked so… Yeah. I don’t know what to say. This is awkward. I don’t wanna walk into that again.” Seb scratches his head as he quickly walks out of the room, now confused at how to approach the situation.

You and Lance are alone in his room again. You both say nothing for a while until you glance at him and see he’s already looking at you. You can’t say anything, but you start laughing. He starts laughing too. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you texted my brother. Are you actually insane?” You hide your face in your hands. “Well, I figured he was going to make sure you were out quicker.” You groan, embarrassed already at the thought of facing your brother again. You get up, shaking your head. “Yeah. Remind me never to get locked in a room with you.” Lance simply chuckles. “Well, you know where to find me if ever you want to anyway.”

[msmoonfire]

Easy Candlework 101 - All you must know

So you wanna use candles, right?! Keep reading for more juice.❤

Hey guys, today I'm sharing with you the most essential info & rules to achieve effective candlework in your everyday life. I'll try to keep it as concise and simple as possible & hope this post helps you maximize the outcome of your rituals!

Little disclaimer: by *ritual* I mean the sole purpose you're using the candle for. Your commitment and intent IS THE RITUAL. Not necessarily related to a session featuring other magic tools and formal spellwork.

To make sure you're using the best candle for your intent, check each specific correspondence here below. Focus on your goal and consider for how long are you going to use the candle. Practice makes perfect! *PLEASE STAY SAFE WHILE HANDLING CANDLES, FIRES AND MATCHES. BE EXTRA CAREFUL, DON'T LEAVE CANDLES UNATTENDED.*

Thank you loves, xox msmoonfire IG: msmoonfire

1. When to light a candle.

Candles should be used ONLY IN MOMENTS OF NEED, STRUGGLE AND WEAKNESS. Using a candle in moments where it's not necessary is INEFFECTIVE. You can't use them as an "additional" or "supportive" ritual for what is already perfectly fine. Save yourself some money and stop wasting candles for non-honorable purposes. Fire energy is proud and very strong, it doesn't like just to be a useless "accessory" in your space. Do not offend it.

Each time you light a candle, there must be a serious reason why.

2. What candle do I choose?

Size, height, duration, color and scent all depend on your needs.

Maxi votive candles (40h+ duration) - Use if you're stuck in a situation that'll take long weeks or even an entire month to come to an end: you can light it every night for 2-3 hours until you achieve your goals.

Big candles (30h+ duration) - Use if you're stuck in a situation that'll take about 15 days to come to an end: you can light it every night for 2-3 hours until you achieve your goals.

Medium candles (20-26h duration) - Use if you're stuck in a situation that'll take between 1 week and 10 days to come to an end: you can light it every night for 2-3 hours until you achieve your goals.

Mini candles (2-4h duration) - Use if you're invoking the help of fire energy for just a 1-day matter, use tealights and small candles. Let it burn until the flame expires by itself, do not suppress it.

BARE CANDLE: it's the candle alone, you decide what type of candle holder goes underneath. Plates, flat coasters & ashtrays are recommended. Very effective in small sizes. Use if you don't need extra protection and for shortest term rituals (1-2 days). When larger, it can be placed inside a lantern or vase (read VASE C. or LANTERN). Can't be lit in social settings, indoor only. This type of candle supports the presence of other flames.

JAR CANDLE: Jarred candle or jar containing a candle, includes a jar cap. The cap is very useful for suppressing the flame gently; this type is recommended for long term rituals that require you to light up and extinguish the candle every night. Excellent for patience, perseverance, affection and self-help. Can be lit in social settings ALONE, without the interference of other candles.

LANTERN: whatever candle you decide to place inside a lantern. Best effective for welcoming GUIDANCE, spirituality, PEACE, HOPE and INSPIRATION. DON'T USE for anything related to sadness/negativity/confusion, this candle WON'T HELP YOU SOLVE PROBLEMS. Can only be lit in private or familiar settings, both outdoor and indoor. This type of candle supports the presence of other bare flames at a reasonable distance.

VASE CANDLE: candle poured or placed inside a vase holder. Vase candles don't have a cap, they're open on top. Best suitable for pyromancy/flame reading, social relationships, deep spellwork and protection (the taller the vase/the darker the color of the vase, the stronger the protection). By far the most powerful yet sensitive of all, can't be lit in social settings. Indoor only. This type of candle DOES NOT support the presence of other flames.

ROUND/FLOATING CANDLE: has round edges, made to float on water during a relaxing bath or just for atmosphere in a pond. They interact well with water energy, best suitable for emotions, mystery and for any sort of healing ritual. Can be lit in social settings but most effective in private, both indoor and outdoor. This type of candle supports the presence of other "twin" flames.

CLASSIC THIN & TALL CANDLE (candelabra): typical slender candle, excellent for spirituality, enlightment, ambition, special occasions and wealth. Being a tall candle, it strives towards a higher dimention and energy. Can be lit in social settings, indoor only. Supports the presence of other flames. Best effective if colored (non-white).

3. What color should I pick?

White: neutral wishes, positive energy within ourselves, light-hearted thoughts, purity, weather, anything home-related, balance, equality, winter.

Black: deep issues, overcoming fears and disorders, difficult problems of any sort, protection, investigation, inner strength, vision, tension, explicit clarity, negative energy to fight off.

Indigo, Purple: spirituality, beliefs, transformation, rebirth, higher knowledge, research, prayers, emotional connection, meditation, strong neutral energy that needs to be channeled upwards.

Blue: motivation, logic, control, consistency, physical movement, gaps and lacks of any sort, donations, masculine energy, males, assertiveness, addiction, prizes, charts, competitiveness, law.

Lilac, light blue, turquoise, periwinkle etc.: freedom, exploration, travel, serenity, peace of mind, good will, big steps, dreams, mood improvement, healing, positive energy that needs to expand, summer.

Light/Dark grey: must use this color only in case you run out of candles or have a minor neutral doubt. It's the weakest, most vulnerable color of all. Its absolute neutrality can be affected by negativity.

Yellows: your own relationship with nature outdoor, vitality, the arts, music, musical instruments, games, service, help, encouragement, small steps, new life, newborns, babies, spring.

Oranges: boldness, personality, social relationships, respect, parties, breaking control, breaking the rules, breaking patterns, decision making, negative energy from other people that needs to be sent back to the source, breakups.

Browns: formalities, work environment, stability, assets, tasks, stasis, milestones, practicalities, buildings, construction, neutral energy that has to stay fixed and stored inside your own body and possessions, long term memory, autumn.

Greens: environment, plants, progress, accountability, sustainability, food, sports, animals, crafts, strong neutral energy that is essential for our survival, common sense, empathy, inspiration.

Pinks (antique, candy, dust...): Love, collaboration, confessions, talks/chats, sex, behavioral changes, patience, understanding, menstrual cycle, labor, delivery, reception, friendships, courage, gossip, feminine energy, females, intuition.

Reds: passions (hobbies, competitions, dreams, jobs), determination, fury, anger, negative energy that needs to be balanced out, high pressure, stress, beauty, glamour, taboos, speed, war, drama, devastation, destruction, short term memory.

Fuchsia: anything moral, ethic thoughts, human rights, philosophy, heightened sensitivity/intuition, humanitarian propaganda, originality, demonstrations, collectivity, unity, deep conversations, study, culture, open mind.

Gold: = Yellow + all things money-related and sunshine.

Silver: loneliness, cozy environment, cold temper, sacred space, the outer space, modernity, modern style, metals, fish, any measure of time, time, clocks, watches, anything cold/frozen/precious/eternal.

Bronze: similar to brown + the past, hearth, wood, the 4 seasons, strength, warm environment, anything cooked/boiling hot/old/seasoned, spices, resistance, hospitality, endurance, restoration, recycling, maintenance.

[kirishimaswife2819]

Them Playing Minecraft Survival With Their S/o || Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Kaminari

Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Reader, and Denki Kaminari x Reader

Summary: What it’s like playing Minecraft survival with the boys

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: So, I do this weird thing where I’m obsessed with Minecraft for like a week, and don’t stop playing it, then I forget it exists for like anywhere from 1-3 months, then remember it exists and the cycle just goes on like that. And I remembered Minecraft existed earlier today, and I decided to write this. Anyway, I’ll try to get some requests uploaded tomorrow, but I’ll have to see if I’m in the mood to write them or not. Anyway, I hope you all have a great day/night! -Danielle <3

Izuku Midoriya:

He’s very peaceful when he’s playing Minecraft

He’s not in any rush to get to the end and spends a fair amount of time working on building farms for various animals and food

When you guys play together, you do pretty much everything together and don’t leave each other’s sides for the whole game

You guys also share all your resources, and split the stuff up evenly between the two of you

When y’all go caving, you each might split up for a few minutes to go into different parts of the cave and find different things, but he’d rather not stay apart for too much longer

He’s literally so calm and doesn’t generally get too mad when he dies

It’s literally impossible for him to not tame any pet he finds, you probably have a countless amount of dogs, cats, and birds, yet every time he sees an untamed one, he’ll be like, “Hey, Y/n. Do you have any bones/fish/seeds?”

“Izuku, you have like fifty at home. No.”

If you refuse to give him some then he goes out and finds it on his own and comes back for the animal, so there’s no escaping it

He’s not really focused on beating the Ender Dragon, he only really remembers that’s what he supposed to be doing when he gets bored

It probably takes y’all like nine months til you finally get around to beating the Ender Dragon, and you play for like four hours every two days or so, since you have school work to focus on as well

Katsuki Bakugou:

Warning, he blows your shit up when he gets bored, so make sure he doesn’t get bored while your playing together

He’ll share a house with you and the same storage area, but what he finds is his and what you find is yours, unless you both agree to share it

He focuses on actually beating the game, for the most part, but occasionally he likes fucking around and doing random stuff

Katsuki sucks at building, since he’s more focused on the actual game than making anything look nice (he also can’t build to save his life, but if you asked why he’s so bad at it, he would use the excuse that I just mentioned)

Doesn’t waste his time on taming animals, except for wolves

He gets two wolves, breeds them, and then makes an entire army

If you piss him off bad enough, he will not hesitate to make them all stand, before hitting you, so that they all attack you

He doesn’t play too often, since “school work is more important”, but you probably play, at the minimum, once a week, but most of the time you play twice a week

You would probably end up beating the game, after a few months, but it honestly depends on how often Katsuki decides to blow up your stuff, or just blow up stuff in general

Eijiro Kirishima:

He likes to try and build and make your world look nice, but he really sucks at it, but don’t tell him that or he might get upset. You called something he built ‘weird’ once and he took it personally, and didn’t want to play the game anymore

He’s always sort of got the goal of beating the Ender Dragon in the back of his mind, but he mostly just focuses on building and having a good time

He only has about one, at most two, of each pet, but he gets emotionally attached to them and if one of them dies, he will probably cry, and he also insists on hosting a whole funeral and building a grave for it (honestly, I would do that too, so I can’t blame him)

He also will give you all of his resources, without you asking, and you’ll be like, “Kiri, why don’t you have any armor” and he’s like, “Oh, I gave you all my iron. It’s fine though! Don’t give it back, I can live without armor!”

Then y’all get an aggressive war of passing back the iron between the two of you, until you get sick of it and just take the iron (but you sneak on his phone/computer after he goes to do something and you make him armor and put it on him)

This man protects you with his life, like you’ll be fighting like one skeleton and he’ll be all dramatic and try to protect you

It’ll probably take like a year or longer to beat the game when you’re playing with Kirishima, because he likes to, not necessarily mess around, but he likes to waste time on building useless stuff and playing with your animals and all of that

You two play almost every day for at least an hour, unless you have the day off, then you play longer

He really enjoys playing with you while your cuddling, and it’s one of his favorite things to do

Shoto Todoroki:

He had never played Minecraft but then he saw Kaminari playing it and asked him what he was doing, and then after Kaminari explained the game to him, he went to you and asked you if you’ve played it before and if it was fun

He has no idea what he’s doing, so he follows you around the whole time, as you try to teach him how to play the game

You’re going to have to teach him literally how to do everything, even if it’s simple, he lacks common sense when it comes to these kinds of games

He is the most gullible person too, like if you tell him a certain something about the game, that very obviously isn’t true, he will believe you

Once he gets a hang of the game, he still chooses to follow you around, and if he doesn’t he’ll ask you what you want him to do while you’re off doing something

He doesn’t tame any animals, because he doesn’t really see the point in it

You always have to tell him what he should do, if you don’t then he’ll sit there and just wait for you to tell him to do something

Shoto actually has a lot of fun playing the game, since he’s never played any video games before and as much as he just sits around doing nothing except staring at your screen and waiting for you to tell him what to do, he still manages to have a good time

How long it takes you to beat the game, is solely based on on your pace and your pace alone, since Shoto will just go along with whatever your doing

You two don’t play often, just whenever you two get bored and want to play something together

Denki Kaminari:

Depending on the day, he’s either really focused on actually playing the game, or he’s fucking around the whole entire time

Most of the time it’s the latter though

This man made an entire army of chickens and a very poorly built castle for them as well

He doesn’t tame too many animals, maybe a few of each, but that’s about it

He’s not a big fan of building, unless it’s to do something stupid with the building (e.g. the castle for the chickens)

Freaks out at the sight of any monsters, even though he has no problem killing them

Denki has a tendency to rage when he dies, but it’s never too bad

You guys share all of your resources, and if you try to not share with him, he will bug you until you do (he’s totally willing to share his with you too, though)

He thinks its funny to hide the item you’re looking for in a chest (if it’s like string or something that’s common and easy to get), so you’ll go out and get some, only to come back and find the item you were looking for in the same chest you were looking in before

Plays Minecraft at least two hours a day, but most of the time longer than that

Sometimes he even tries to sneak and play it during class, but the teacher always catches him within like two minutes because he talks to himself when he plays

If I’m being completely honest with you, you and Denki probably never make it to the end of the game because you’re too busy messing around, but both of you are perfectly fine with that

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[h3art-n-s0ul]

Grocery Shopping Together part 3

Ushijima, Daichi, Hinata

Genre: Fluff

(Please feel free to reblog and comment)

Part 1 and Part 2

This will be the final part but please leave any requests for any fics or hc's you want to see!

___________________________

Ushijima: Stands in the grocery line for you while you go eat samples

-The patience this man has

-Just wants you to be happy

-Definitely lets you buy whatever you want

-Just obsessed with your smile

-Chivalry isn't dead

-He makes waiting in line a good time

The line was honestly incredible. Unnatural.

“Woah.” You stared in disbelief. The two staff members looked so panicked and you swore you’d never seen a human being move so quickly. Well, at scanning items. The rapid beeping was so consistent, you couldn’t keep up.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend brought you out of your dazed stupor.

“O-oh. Sorry, I was distracted. Toshi, what are we going to do? It’ll take an eternity to get through this line.” You crossed your arms and huffed.

“It’s alright love. I’m sure it’ll go faster than you think.” His towering figure inclined toward you and he tilted your chin upward.

“And of course you make it bearable.” You smiled when he kissed your forehead.

“Hey, they have a ton of free samples in the back of the store,” He pointed. “How about, you go and try some?”

“But Ushi, our stuff…” You looked downward.

“I’ll stay in line Y/n. It’s fine, lovely.” He dropped his hand to squeeze yours.

“Really? Thank you so much! Love you! I’ll be right back!” You reassured him and ran towards the samples. When you were out of sight, Ushijima couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his features. You were so damn cute. He would die just to see you all ecstatic again.

A few minutes later you returned with a tiny paper plate, filled with snacks sitting at the ends of toothpicks.

“Here Toshi! I brought the best ones so you could try some of them too!” You fed him each individual food and waited for his verdict with wide eyes.

“Yeah I like this one better than the last one.” He commented. He loved how easily pleased you were.

This was his favorite thing, just enjoying small special moments with you.

___________________________

Daichi: Pushes you around in the cart

-Doesn't want to break store policy

-Like as much as he loves you, getting kicked out of a grocery store is not on his to-do list

-He is just such a sucker for you when you beg

--Already head over heels for you

-Always has to bribe you in exchange for denying you grocery cart access

-He's basically a glorified babysitter let's be real

“Oh my gosh it’s perfect. It’ll look so good on the windowsill in the bedroom!” You squealed.

Daichi couldn’t believe that you were this excited over a tiny potted plant.

“I’m worried you’re starting to like that plant more than me.” Daichi scoffed.

“Well come on, it’s not like you can compete. This is the cutest thing in existence!” You raised the little plant Lion King style into the air.

“Well I mean, almost.” Daichi shrugged. “The plant is second to you.” He tapped the tip of your nose with his finger.

“Ugh you’re such a sap.” You laughed and turned to him.

“Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I am going to take this rare opportunity to ask...Can I please please please ride in the cart, Dai? You know, since you love me so much?” Daichi rolled his eyes. You asked every single time you two went to the store. He was already expecting it. And he was 1000% ready to deny your request as usual. But with the puppy eyes you were throwing at him, that stupid little plant clutched in your hands...It was too much. I mean the guy was only human. He sighed. “Okay. Fine.” He watched your eyes light up. “BUT BUT- Only this ONE time. Got it?”

You nodded fervidly and started to climb into the cart.

It must have looked ridiculous. You, sitting cross legged in a shopping cart, grasping a tiny plant in your lap, while a grown man pushed you around.

Even if you did look ridiculous, you didn’t care. You were perfectly content as long as you were in Daichi’s arms, well er- cart.

___________________________

Hinata: You two race to find items the fastest.

-People aren't really sure if you two are in an actual relationship as much as you're in an enemies with benefits situation, with how competitive you are

-It's always only in the name of fun

-He's still so sweet on you

-He is also fantastic at distracting you which is great unless you're actually trying to be productive

-Super comfortable around each other

It had been a few weeks since you had been grocery shopping and the crumpled paper list clutched in your hand was a mile long.

“I’m sorry you came with me, Shoyo. This is going to take forever!” You whined and leaned against his side.

“Hey Y/n it’s okay! I can help get stuff for you!” Typical Hinata. Internally, he was frantically trying to come up with a way to make grocery shopping more fun for you.

“Thanks Shoyo. You sure you don’t wanna go home? This is going to take a while and I’d much rather just lay in bed and binge watch a tv show with you.” You complained.

“Trust me, I would too. But I promise I’ll get as many things on that list as possible for you!” Hinata smiled brightly and you couldn’t help but think how sweet he was.

“In fact, I bet I can find the things on your list faster than you.” He knew exactly how to motivate you. Competition.

“Oh really? Are you prepared to test that theory, Sho?” You ripped the list in half and gave him the longer half.

“Hey! This is cheating.” He held up his half of the list.

“You’re the one who initiated the competition, and I figured since you were so confident…” You leered.

“Fine. I’ll still beat you.” He laughed and continued, “Meet at the checkout? Winner gets to choose the show we watch tonight.”

“Deal! You’re on.” You shook hands with him.

“Ready?”

“GO!” Both you and Hinata broke into a sprint, heading in opposite directions.

Time skip tilde~

“I still don’t understand how you won!”

“Shoyo. Maybe because you forgot to get a cart and instead haphazardly decided to carry everything.” You rolled your eyes.

“There wasn’t enough time!”

[spacedikut]

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

[anika-ann]

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series 

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move. 

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong? 

Warnings:  alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.  

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face.  And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.  

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

[13uswntimagines]

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog​

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest. 

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck. 

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt. 

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.  

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen. 

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman. 

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia. 

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.” 

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around). 

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.” 

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK. 

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.” 

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly. 

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?” 

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,” 

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration. 

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran. 

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.” 

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest. 

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.” 

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone. 

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response. 

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?” 

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,” 

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,” 

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart. 

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally. 

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,” 

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business. 

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued. 

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned. 

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.” 

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?” 

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.” 

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now. 

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar. 

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,” 

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.” 

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight. 

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore. 

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms. 

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.” 

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled. 

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.” 

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,” 

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.” 

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships). 

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level. 

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you. 

[stillness-in-green]

MVA In Memoriam (4/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party) (Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade)

Part Four, Episode 111: Origin: Shimura Tenko

Chapter 233 – Bright Future

• Twice clearly having arranged a Skeptic puppet to where its arm can be used as a pillow for Toga’s neck. A cute little character detail while also being kind of disturbing? Very on-brand for the League! A not-immediately-plot-crucial visual of a member of the League demonstrating obvious care for another member? The guillotine awaits!

• A little explanation about how clones’ physicality and memories work relative to the last time Twice saw the people the clones are based on. This is a very useful little nod of explanation to something that remained unclear from the dialogue of Mr. Clone-press last chapter. Twice’s quirk is pretty arcane in its ins and outs, frankly, and the clearer those details are, the fewer plot holes you’re leaving for later.

• The scene of Skeptic being right on the verge of confronting Twice. Skeptic has, oh, about five moments where he’s obviously a big tense neurotic who’s unpleasant to be around if things aren’t going his way, and the anime deleted or downplayed all but two of them. As ever, it’s obscenely damaging to the characterization of the MLA cast, who we have little enough time with as it is. Further, it was a particularly weird choice to make with Skeptic, who is as of this writing the only major MLA character who’ll emerge still free and active from the War Arc. Why shaft the characterization of the one of new characters who’s going to be getting the most attention out of any of them in the next arc, with yet more scenes yet to come after?[1]

• A full page’s-worth of Spinner’s rationalizations on targeting Trumpet and ordering the Twice doubles to do the same. This lays out the details on why targeting Trumpet stands to relieve some of the load on Shigaraki. It isn’t because Trumpet’s quirk makes the crowds more dangerous, though that is true. Spinner targets Trumpet because he’s seen enough to know that attacking the MLA’s leaders gets them crazy riled up; he knows that if he makes himself a threat to Trumpet, then all Trumpet’s followers’ attention will shift focus to Spinner, leaving Shigaraki with less to deal with.           Spinner also knows that that is ludicrously dangerous to him personally, given his weak quirk, but he actively makes that choice anyway, because that’s how much he’s devoted himself to Shigaraki without (yet) quite articulating the nature and reasons for that devotion. Targeting Trumpet without any of that reasoning made for a perfectly sound tactical decision, but it missed the regard Spinner shows the unnamed mobs of the MLA, and it really missed the probable savage beatdown and even possible death that Spinner consciously chooses to risk for Shigaraki’s sake.           Of course, a chunk of what the episode deleted is flashbacks to scenes the anime also cut, so they couldn’t figure into Anime!Spinner’s reasoning. This does not excuse yet more cuts to Spinner’s arc and characterization; it only adds to how badly the anime maimed him.           Also, on a less salty but still confused note, deleting all the Twice clones from the beginning of the scene and just having Spinner running along a wall past mobs of people instead of laboriously fighting his way through the street to the van was really dumb. Why did all those MLA people just stand there and let him run by? Where did all the Twice clones that just helped save Spinner from a huge flurry of long-distance attacks disappear to? Come on.

• Trumpet’s thought that using Sevens Loud will draw every bit of strength from their warriors, but that it’s necessary. Setting aside that it looks far less necessary when there hasn’t been a crowd of Twice clones fighting Trumpet’s people this whole time, just Spinner by his lonesome, we still lost quite a bit to this cut. Firstly, a nuance on the trade-off Incite gives—that its stat-boost is temporary, and that it’s borrowing from the future to pay for the present, a stock that is limited and a bill that will come due when the effect wears off.           Secondly, it’s another demonstration that the MLA leaders aren’t just thoughtlessly wasting their followers’ lives; they’re very consciously doing cost/benefit analysis on how much danger their people are in versus what stands to be gained by the potential exertion or outright deaths those people will suffer. It’s cold reasoning, yes, but that’s how the Liberation Army operates: not for the personal gain or lackadaisical ease of the people on top—Trumpet would just have been in the tower speaking through city-wide loudspeakers, if that were the case—but for the advancement of the group’s ideals.           It also just grants Trumpet some interiority, but of course the anime can’t have that.

• The note in Trumpet’s meta-ability explanation that the more his voice causes the air to vibrate, the stronger Incite’s effect. This is—good god, it is literally the entire design mentality behind Sevens Loud! Sevens Loud purpose isn't to make his voice louder so more people can hear him (which I would think is the most logical assumption an anime-only person would make as to why he puts it on); it’s to make himself louder because being louder enhances the boost. It’s about the quality of the effect, not the quantity of targets. This is why Trumpet has the thought about how using Sevens Loud will drain the strength reserves of his people. There’d be no correlation there if Sevens Loud were only about boosting his range.

• When Spinner got porcupined in the anime, they did a close-up on his face, possibly to avoid the gore of showing the spines piercing through his forearm. That’s fine, but they also emphasized the reaction by having him lose his grip on the huge fuck-off knife he had clutched in his teeth. In the manga, sure, he yells in pain, but he doesn’t lose the knife. Indeed, he gets the guy off him by slashing at him with it—a shot the anime dropped. So Spinner doesn’t even get to keep displays of his pain tolerance, a trait he doubtless improved during those six weeks against Machia. Why does the anime hate Spinner so much, you guys? Why did it go out of its way to make him look lamer, when Dabi and Toga were out there getting anime-original flourishes to make them look cooler?

• Spinner’s thoughts, “When I get inspired to act, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing! I’m just a loser jumping on a bandwagon. Or at least that’s what it looks like.” A humorous bit of self-awareness from Spinner here. The anime got at the self-awareness. The humor, as we’ll see, not so much.

• Spinner’s thoughts, “Look at me. Look at me!! With all that prejudice in your eyes!” Hah hah, laughed BNHA the anime nervously, what prejudice are you talking about, Spinner? No idea what you could possibly be referring to there! This one’s particularly annoying because, while one might think that the anime was just dodging the heteromorphobia angle it eradicated all references to back at the beginning of the arc, the prejudice line isn’t even about heteromorphobia, not really.           See, the Japanese line there literally translates to, “With those colored glasses!”—to see with colored glasses being a Japanese idiom for seeing something from a biased viewpoint. So aside from being a wordplay jab at Trumpet’s choice in eyewear, it’s also about Trumpet’s expressed view that Spinner, having been a shut-in with a weak quirk who decided to take his resentment out on the world, can’t possibly amount to anything much. So, what, did the people in charge of making those cuts think Trumpet was right? Why even keep the line where he disparages Spinner if you’re not going to let Spinner call it what it is? He’s not calling out fantasy racism there, anime! He’s calling out the bias against weak quirks that even the good guys in this world sometimes partake in!           Possibly it’s because non-villains in the world[2] sometimes use reasoning that leads logically to quirk supremacism that the anime got gunshy with it, or it was more reluctance to give the villains—and the Too-Real Iguchi Shuuichi especially—moral ground for accusations against their society that get too close to real life. Whatever the motivation, it’s a bullshit cut.

• Shigaraki calling RD “Detnerat,” presumably because he neither knows RD’s real name nor cares to dignify him by using his code name. The anime, again, made neither the connection nor Shigaraki’s recognition explicit, so it lost the specificity and pettiness of that little snub.

• A little exchange between Giran and a Twice clone as they flee. It doesn’t give you much you wouldn’t assume just from seeing them flee, but it always feels more immediate and empathetic when the characters talk and you can see their expressions, instead of just a quick shot of them from behind as they run away in complete silence. Heck, running away in complete silence is actively out of character for Twice!

• Because the anime has some kind of aversion/restriction on showing hand-related violence, it radically changed how Shigaraki lost his fingers,[3] resulting in the loss of several important shots. To the best of my parsing, in the manga, when Re-Destro makes that first big jump to avoid Shigaraki’s decay wave, he comes back down specifically aiming for Shigaraki’s outstretched left hand, spread wide and flat on the ground. Shigaraki tries to evade (you can see the blur of his left arm in the panel where RD lands), but either RD does manage to clip the hand or he simply hits the ground with so much force that the sheer explosive burst of rock shreds Shigaraki’s hand and part of his coat sleeve. Being so much larger, RD then simply snags Shigaraki by the wrist before he can get out of range. It’s very fast, a burst of speed and violence, and very different (read: cooler) from Shigaraki flipping end over end in slow motion in a way that seemed to imply visually that he was thrown well out of RD’s grabbing range.           As to the shots we lost? I counted three. First, Hana’s hand crumpling amidst all the flying debris. Second, that big dramatic panel of Shigaraki’s maimed hand ribboning blood into the air as the narration box finally drops Re-Destro’s identity and code name. Third, the shot of him catching Shigaraki, almost delicately, between one thumb and forefinger and delivering the, “Was it this hand that committed such evil acts?” line—a clear threat to what of that hand Shigaraki has remaining—as we find out what his meta-ability is.           This is all hugely dramatic in the manga, because, of course, readers always assumed Shigaraki needed all five fingers to activate his quirk, and here Re-Destro nigh-effortlessly robs him of fully half his capacity to use it. It’s a shocking turn-around and instantly ups RD’s threat level by allowing him to permanently maim Shigaraki in a way that no one, hero or villain, has done before or since. Robbing Re-Destro of the immediacy of that seemingly devastating blow—inflicted within moments of meeting the real Shigaraki—did immeasurable damage to his credibility as an arc boss.           The shot in the manga is also just arresting visually, with RD finally getting to properly loom over Shigaraki. Most of the shots up to this point have been framed such that, while RD is obviously bigger, he and Shigaraki have still been moving and fighting in a pretty level way. This is the first place where the viewer is situated so squarely behind Shigaraki that they can really feel how massive RD is in comparison. It’s certainly a more impressive visual than this mess—thanks, anime; thanks, whatever broadcasting standards forced overworked and uninspired animators to undertake a redraw of RD’s quirk reveal panel when every other member of the MLA brass had theirs carried over directly from the manga.

• A chapter-ending cliffhanger of Slidin’ Go helping direct traffic on the outskirts of Deika and the warning rumble as Gigantomachia approaches. Aside from being a nice little tension boost—Will Gigantomachia roll up just in time to see Re-Destro making a mess of Shigaraki? Who will he target? Will Shigaraki ever be able to win him over if he sees a scene like that?—it’s good foreshadowing for what the news reports will eventually be saying. Remember, the claim is that a bunch of villains lured Deika’s heroes away and then attacked the city while it was defenseless; that’s why we never see any of the MLA’s heroes involved with the fight once it starts. And now, here, we find out where they’ve been the whole time: making sure no outsiders get in who might be able to undermine that narrative.

Framing Shifts

• Once again had an MLA member using their Detnerat item say its name out loud, when it’s clear in the manga that they’re just thinking the names internally. Once again, it was kind of silly.

• When Spinner flashes back to watching Stain on TV and being inspired, the manga uses a shot of Stain’s face, snarling and defiant. The anime used—a shot of Stain from behind, only visible from the shoulders to the knees, hunched so that his lower back and ass were towards the camera. Bones… What exactly were you implying lit Spinner’s fire there? Or did you just not have the time or budget to go pull Stain’s reference sheets for drawing his face?

• A tone issue, but a major one: Spinner should be grinning, face alight with accusatory challenge, as he hurls his accusations of the MLA/Trumpet being the same bandwagon-jumping nobodies that he is. This is the moment in the manga where we see Spinner truly throw his hesitations and his doubts to the wind and embrace Shigaraki’s nihilistic fervor and the beauty, value and profundity of emptiness. So what if I’m empty? So what if he wants emptiness? Who cares about other peoples’ ideals if their ideals leave no room for me? It’s not a heroic triumph, but it’s a triumph all the same, and losing Spinner’s smile made the moment far too bitter.

• Meanwhile, in exactly the opposite problem, Shigaraki by this point is not smiling. In fact, he’s barely on his feet, swaying violently in place with accompanying sound effects. While his words are openly mocking, he seems to wholly lack the energy to back them up with his usual verve. The anime didn’t have him smiling, admittedly, but the whole time the ‘camera’ wasn’t directly on his face, his voice actor was reading the lines with an uneven, chuckling cadence that suggested Shigaraki was seconds away from breaking into howls of laughter. He was also, of course, impossibly clean, at a point at which his manga counterpart is muddy, bloody and tattered from the horrifically extended combat he’s been living for six weeks. It’s stuff like this that made it so impossible to take the Army or even Machia as much of a threat in the anime, when, other than the red cords on his hands being broken, Shigaraki looked absolutely no different than usual.

Additions

• Gave Spinner a tiny bit of new animation when he got mobbed by people hopped up on Incite. It was nice, but if they were going to give him a flourish, I’d rather it have come when he swipes Porcupine Dude off him with a combat knife. Or, you know, just kept the bit of him telling the Twices to attack and his reasoning on why.

• Cut inside briefly to show a ballerina girl dancing through a darkened apartment right before she sliced a neat circle out of the wall. I love it, A+, exactly the kind of expansion on the action of the manga I wanted to see. My only complaint is that her manga self looked more like Pearl from Steven Universe.[4] XD

• A quick new shot of RD when Shigaraki was hounding him about his feelings. His teeth were visibly gritted, the corners of his mouth pulled down. It stands out because there’s only one shot of RD there in the manga, and in it, he’s smiling, close-mouthed and calm. The anime copied said shot, smile and all, then cut away, and when it cut back, Re-Destro had a totally different expression on his face. Baffling. Anime!RD having a dour scowl everywhere manga!RD is smiling in a tight, controlled way was all over the fight scene, and it detracted from the sense of RD’s menace every time.

Chapter 234 – Destruction Sense

• The illustration(s) accompanying Re-Destro’s, “Let’s not judge people by their quirks,” line. The pictures are cute, but the real loss there was the note informing us that they’re excerpts from a children’s book published by Shoowaysha—Curious’s outfit—called Quirks and Us. That’s a very concrete illustration of the kinds of things the MLA is getting up to in the world, and an equally concrete thing an anime-only viewer lost. Of course, that viewer never even found out Curious was in publishing, so it wouldn’t have meant anything on that front, but there is one other thing I think is notable: the way that book implies that the only people explicitly pushing a “don’t judge other people by their quirks” message are the radical Liberationists.           See, the rest of the story touches on the virtues of a nonjudgmental attitude here and there, but actually finding people willing to say it out loud is—unprecedented, I think. Deku comes across situations where he could say something like that multiple times and he never, ever does—not to Shouto, nor to Shinsou, nor to Eri, nor to the giant fox lady. And that’s not even touching on Shouji’s mask, or the discrimination Spinner faced, or the CRC “losing support” without being declared illegal. I think the manga itself is against judging people by their quirks, but it’s interesting that it doesn’t make its characters into mouthpieces to say as much. This is because its characters are thoroughly enmeshed in a society that very much does judge people by their quirks, regardless of whether or not it will say that doing so is bad or rude or prejudiced.           Re-Destro and the MLA aren’t immune, of course—Re-Destro himself says that quirks are linked to personality—but they adhere to a different set of values than the larger society does. While Hero Society talks about quirks in terms of being heroic and/or useful versus villainous and/or useless, the MLA spectrums instead emphasize how capable a person’s quirk is of helping them exert their will and how ambitious the quirk’s bearer is in that exertion. That is, their ethics are less about morality and utility-to-society than they are about aspiration and utility-to-self.[5] Both worldviews have their pros and cons, but that, I think, is what the children’s book is getting at when it says not to “judge”—don’t assign an arbitrary moral value to a quirk; judge a person by their actions.           And isn’t it interesting, that the only explicit verbal statement of that value comes from the leader of a radical cult descended from a famous insurrectionist quoting a children’s book published by a member of selfsame radical cult? The value is not ever stated by a member of the heroic cast, so are we to assume that the heroes don't actually believe it? Do people profess to believe it but everyone knows it’s only for courtesy’s sake, with only the MLA willing to breach that wall of “things we don’t talk about in polite society” to actually talk about it in anything other than platitudes? Obviously, you lose this entire line of discussion when the "don't judge people by their quirks" value is just never mentioned at all.

• The phrase, “In that case,�� from RD’s, “You will never measure up to me.” It establishes continuity to what RD was saying before. He’s not taking breaks from talking while Shigaraki has flashbacks; the two are happening concurrently.

• RD’s, “Cracking apart…?” reaction to his Decayed fingertip, and the dripping blood from the injury. I’m not hugely fussed about the former, but I like the latter as indicative of what Re-Destro’s Stress powers actually do. That is to say, he isn’t covering himself in a thick shell of Stress power or something; his Stress powers make him physically larger, infusing his body and swelling his size. That’s why he bleeds when Shigaraki touches his fingertip.           Admittedly, the size distinction was more obvious in the anime, where the audience watched RD’s shoulders inflate like balloons last episode, compared to the manga, where you don’t get in-between animation. Still, given that RD still has that wound even when he goes back down to normal size, and is still wearing bandages for his speech a week later,[6] it’d be nice to mark the severity of the wound with a bit of blood. Oddly, the anime did keep the wound for the crater scene, visible red slices opened in the flesh along the length of his finger, very obviously the sort of injury that would have bled upon being first sustained. Maybe RD ran afoul of whatever the studio mandate is on when Decay has a dust effect and when it leaves gore? (More of that later.)

• Shigaraki’s, “Mother!” for the first panel we see of her. It’s obvious enough who she probably is, but odd that we got a whole bunch of narration for Hana, and likewise an acknowledgment of his grandparents, but not even a single word for Nao.

• Very significantly drops the grandfather’s, “Eating yummy things helps make the sadness go away.” Grandpa’s not just randomly handing Tenko his favorite snack in that memory—he’s trying to treat some kind of grief or wrong without actually addressing the wrong, opting to just put a flavorful band-aid on it. That could be fine if it were something outside Grandpa’s control, but we’ve already gotten some early hints from Hana’s phrasing that things are not okay in the household, and thus the grandfather’s attempt to bribe Tenko with sweets is just as ominous a sign of what’s to come as the grandmother’s attempt to guilt him into not crying lest he make her cry too.

• A little shot of Shigaraki stirring in the rubble when RD answers the phone. It’s a nice demonstration of their size difference, especially comparing both of them to Machia, who we just saw tearing through buildings like the kaiju his theme music declares him to be.

Framing Shifts

• When Shigaraki narrates that Hana always took him by the hand when he got weepy, she actually does take his hand in the manga, her fingers wrapped around his, his clasped over hers. It emphasizes that this is what he can’t do anymore, simply hold hands with people, the innocence lost aspect, and it suggests the closeness he once had with his sister.           In the anime, she reached out a hand but wound up taking him by the wrist instead, his hand splayed open beneath hers. This suggested, albeit very implicitly, that maybe that innocence was something he never had from the beginning; it also suggested less reciprocity in his relationship with Hana. Even though Tomura said in narration that their hands were joined, what we saw was that Hana just pulled him where she wanted him and he didn’t fight her on it, not that he held her hand in return.           Alternatively, the anime could have been drawing a parallel to how her hand would eventually be gripping his wrist in a much different context (a more necrotic one, for starters) later in life, though if that's what they were going for, they could have stood to tweak the dialogue so it actually matched the onscreen action. (Credit to @robotlesbianjavert and @aysall respectively for these two theories!)

• Shigaraki still having his fingers when Re-Destro squeezed his hand made RD look like a real moron. I assume the intention was that he assumed he’d done enough damage—broken bones, torn ligaments, etc—to prevent Shigaraki from being able to move his hand in more than spastic twitches, but like, if all it takes is a hard enough spasmodic clench to dust you, you are playing much riskier games than the MLA is generally portrayed as favoring. (Not that the anime kept many of the scenes that demonstrated all the planning and prep that the MLA did as groundwork for their attack, as I have complained about at length.)           In the same sequence, Anime!RD turned and bodily hurled Shigaraki away from him, while Manga!RD threw him a similar distance with nothing more than a flick of a finger. Anime, why you gotta make Re-Destro look so lame all the time?

Additions

• Just one episode prior, the anime managed to turn in an entirely reasonable assemblage of swiping and dodging between Shigaraki and Re-Destro while RD was rambling on about the Mother of Quirks. What the hell was the excuse for this episode’s ridiculous shot of Shigaraki literally running circles—big, broad circles—around RD multiple times in the time it took RD to finish one (1) thought? For heaven’s sake, if you don’t have the budget for flashy, just use slow motion or more flashback animation or something. I know there’s more leeway for long thoughts in manga, where the reader understands that thoughts are moving far faster than action, and that it can be hard to bridge that gap for anime, where motion is motion but voice acting still has to rattle its way to the end of a sentence. I understand that measures have to be taken to account for that. Still, I promise, something that just looks a bit padded is much preferable to something that looks outright dumb.

• I admit to having found huge Stress monster RD pulling out a teeeeeny-tiny cellphone very funny—even more so the distinct cracking sound it made when Skeptic reported in bad news and RD’s fingers tightened infinitesimally—but the manga suggests fairly strongly that RD’s just answering on some kind of earpiece or micro-receiver, the same kind of thing Ujiko hands out and that Skeptic is associated with on multiple occasions. It’d be nice if RD could have kept more of the jokes he actually makes, the ones that stem from his native good humor, rather than the anime making up new ones based entirely in the contrast of Re-Destro and the viewer’s expectations of Re-Destro.

Chapter 235 – Shimura Tenko: Origin

• The man at the door, whom Nao is apologizing to at the beginning of the Tenko flashback and the apparent reason Tenko got busted for playing hero. I don’t love the way deleting this obscured that Tenko, in some fashion, troubled someone to lead to Kotarou dragging him down the hall (the anime also dropped Kotarou’s subsequent line, “Causing trouble?!” that’s supposed to supplement his, “Playing hero again?”), but it’s not like the manga doesn’t imply that the same thing would happen for any hero-based rules infraction, regardless of whether it troubled strangers or not. No, the much, much funnier thing to me is how it just fuckin’ torpedoed the most obvious thing people point to when they posit that All For One gave Tenko Decay, kicking off the entire tragedy: the man at the door with the conspicuously shadowed face and the even more conspicuously AFO-like suit and dress shirt with the top button unfastened.           Listen, I hate that theory and what it would do to the narrative of Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko as Hero Society’s long-overdue reckoning, the villain they can’t put down and the victim they can’t silence, so watching the anime summarily cut out the scene that really kicked the theory into overdrive was very validating! Conversely, I still can't deny that it's a plausible theory, so if it does turn out to be true, that means the anime shot itself in the foot on the most obvious bit of foreshadowing this side of AFO addressing Tenko by name when he finds him in the alley. The schadenfreude of that would also be very funny. Really, unlike every other cut this season, I regard this one as win-win for my personal experience with the anime.           Incidentally, I was very prepared to complain about the anime dropping all the changes of clothes the Shimura family goes through over the course of the flashback—I regard the timelapse as one of the major points against the AFO Gave Tenko Decay theory, since it’s never taken a quirk bestowed by AFO multiple days, maybe even multiple weeks, to kick in before—but it turns out I’m a lot less bothered about them not taking the time to change the side characters’ clothes when the anime also deletes the dude at the door who is the only reason I care about clarity re: how much time the flashback covers! But just for the record, while they had more outfits than I was expecting them to, the family did go through fewer changes of clothes in the anime than in the manga.

• The full echo of the line about kids being sneaky and simple in favor of Narrator!Shigaraki just letting out this exhausted, rueful, “Ahhh, kids are…” I actually rather like it. It’s a clear reference back to the earlier line without having to restate the whole thing, and Uchiyama Kouki’s delivery is really excellent.

• Kotaro’s first slap of Tenko, the only one directly portrayed on-panel, and Mon-chan’s barking in response. On the one hand, I think there’s an argument to be made for the scene flowing a bit better like this—why wouldn’t Grandpa try to stop him from going for that second slap; why wouldn’t Nao pass Hana off to Grandma and do something instead of just standing there yelling for the entire scene? It makes a bit more sense if they’re hesitant to intervene because Kotarou has “only” grabbed at Tenko’s collar and they don’t yet know how that it’s going to escalate to naked physical violence in a way that it never has before.           On the other hand, that first slap is so visceral and shocking. Nowhere else in the manga is domestic violence portrayed more sharply and directly, in greater detail or more cruelly generous panel space than in this moment. It’s in the difference in size between Kotarou and Tenko, the force behind the hit that’s enough to knock Tenko clear off his feet, the pages upon pages of gut-churning lead-up to this moment and what we know will be following soon after.           Also too, it makes the family’s failure to help Tenko much worse that no one else acts when Kotarou pulls back for a second hit. The first one, you could almost excuse because no one saw it coming; the second throws those justifications out the window and spits on them afterward. Two hits are important—not only for what they tell Tenko in the moment about his family's inaction, but because two hits speak in ways one hit doesn't to how wildly uneven the power balance is in the house, that Nao and her parents could witness something like that and not only fail to intercede, but then take who knows how long to work up the courage to confront Kotarou afterwards.           I understand very well the fear of showing this in a family TV timeslot—the violence is so much more real than any big fantasy beat-‘em-up could ever be—but it’s the kind of thing that really drives home what Tenko needed to be saved from even back then, a social issue that heroes as they currently exist were in no position to address. Far from demonstrating that heroes aren't at fault for what happened to Tenko, though, what this scene truly does is vividly illustrate the flaws in All Might's social contract, in which his power and smile seem to promise that he can save absolutely everyone, only to leave children like Tenko out in the cold with no explanation as to why. It's brutal because it has to be, and the anime shying away from depicting Kotarou's physical abuse undercut that.

Framing Shifts

• There was a bizarre, nonsensical change to the scene at the beginning of the chapter where RD is figuring out how Shigaraki survived/got back up after taking a Burden attack head-on. The manga’s explanation is that Shigaraki didn’t actually take a full force hit because he was Decaying it even as it was blowing him back. This is somewhat silly, given that even a reduced-strength Burden is still strong enough to put him through multiple buildings. It is, however, less silly than the anime’s take, in which Shigaraki touched Re-Destro rather than the corporealized Stress of Burden. How Re-Destro survived a full-fingered touch from Shigaraki’s completely uninjured right hand[7] went totally unexplained; the problem was then compounded by Re-Destro delivering manga-accurate lines about Burden not being an evadable attack despite “evasion” having nothing to do with Shigaraki’s actions.           Anime!Shigaraki didn’t dodge the Burden attack any more than Manga!Shigaraki did; unlike Manga!Shigaraki, however, Anime!Shigaraki also did nothing to reduce the impact of the attack. So not only was how Shigaraki survived the Burden attack not explained, the change to the material also opened up the plot hole of how Re-Destro survived a direct touch attack that Shigaraki in the manga never lands.

• There was also an extremely weird decision made to give Tenko dark, gray-blue eyes, obviously reminiscent of Nana’s, and suggest that they became red at the same time as his hair was changing to white. But in the manga, other than the size, there’s no difference between young Tenko’s eyes and how Shigaraki’s eyes have always been drawn—an unshaded iris with a visible pupil and a relatively thick line delineating the iris from the white of the sclera. Tenko’s eyes never matched those of anyone else in his family, least of all his dark-eyed grandmother. His hair changed color because of a trauma response,[8] but his eyes were always red.

• Relocated Shigaraki’s first, “Little kids…are sneakier than you’d expect. And simpler,” to underscore Hana showing him Nana’s picture in the study, squarely centering the line on her. And like, yes, that line does get its bitter echo later when Hana panics in the face of her father’s fury and throws the blame onto Tenko—but that line isn’t just about her; it’s also about what Tenko wanted to hear from the other adults in his life. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t approve; if he could get at least one adult to say he could be a hero, to take his side, then he could feel vindicated.           It’s a child’s sneaky, simple reasoning: if an adult’s words are absolute, you just have to get one (1) adult to agree with you. It’s asking Dad if you can do something you don’t think Mom will agree to, and then going to Mom with Dad’s permission held defensively in-hand. Laying the line over Hana obscures that it’s as much about Tenko’s craving for external validation as it is Hana’s (entirely understandable) deceitful streak.

• After half a season full of internal monologue being voiced aloud even when it made little sense to do so, the anime decided to render clearly talk-bubbled dialogue—Tenko’s chatting at Mon about how he feels like he could take on the world—as internal monologue instead. Who talks to their animals in their heads when they could be talking at them directly like pet owners the world over?

Additions

• Added a few extra stills of Kotarou rebuking Tenko and dragging him around. I don’t think they’re inaccurate to the situation, though I wonder if it really needed to be underlined two more times than the manga did. Maybe they were trying to make up in advance for deleting the first slap?

• Added a few new stills of Nana and child!Kotarou. They hurt my soul and I love them without reservation.

Chapter 236 – Shimura Tenko: Origin, Part 2

• Hana’s second apology. What needs to get across was communicated with her first apology, but I do think the second one adds some naturalism to the dialogue. It feels very normal for a child feeling extremely guilty to apologize multiple times, like the more times they say it, the more true/convincing it will become.

• A bit of Tenko’s internal monologue—thinking Hana’s name, and Mon’s, and that he can’t talk. The anime slipped some attempts at verbalizing “Mon” into the dialogue, and it was painfully obvious just from listening to him gag and choke that he was too horror-struck to get words out, in ways that would be a little harder to convey on the page. Also, he thinks again that he can’t talk just as Hana runs away, so it gets across regardless. No real complaints here.

• Some thoughts about how he’s itchy, which, given what his itch represents (or at least what he thinks it does), they probably should have kept for continuity’s sake.

• Tenko’s last, “Hana-chan!” just as he grabs for her. I can imagine it having just that little bit more desperate impact, especially given Sekine Arisa’s great delivery of the first “Hana-chan!” but his delivery of the first one was great—weeks later, I can still remember it clearly—so it’s not a snip I’m inclined to doomsay about.

• Hana’s verbalization as the Decay hits her. Given that they kept Mon-chan’s last whimper, it’s kind of inconsistent not to keep this. It’s grueling, sure, but no more so than the rest of the horror show shortly to follow.

• An echo of Nao’s defense of Kotarou’s anti-hero stance. Frankly, I think anime already over-indulges in echoing dialogue we’ve heard not ten minutes prior, so I don’t mind losing this—in the manga, the moments would have fallen in different chapters, so it makes more sense to squeeze in the little reminder, but that wasn’t necessary for the anime, in which the original moment and the callback happened barely more than five minutes apart. It was obvious what the mental image was meant to draw attention to, since Tomura was narrating about exactly what his grievance was, and the image was followed by the two equivalent moments with the grandparents. (Admittedly, it hurt that correlation a bit that Grandpa’s line about the ohagi being intended to make the sadness go away got cut, but the sentiment was pretty clear from the man’s expression of nervy, abashed guilt regardless.)

• The line of Decay that splits Nao’s eye, one of the more vividly horrific little grace notes in the chapter. It undercut the grotesquerie just the tiniest bit, but the scene’s grotesque as-is, so I can understand that slight edit for TV standards. The discrepancy between Decay-to-dust and Decay-to-gore, discussed below in Framing Shifts, was much more damaging.

• A shot of Kotarou just after he hits Tenko with the tree pruning shears in which he looks, briefly, incredibly distraught, like he’s just realized what a monster he’s become. The anime didn’t make the slightest of attempts to keep that spasm of horror, grief, and regret, and thus lost that last moment of sympathy for a man deeply traumatized by a heroic character’s actions. It’s my only complaint about Anime!Kotarou, who I was otherwise far more pleased with than I was afraid might be the case, but it’s a complaint I must register nonetheless.

• A bit of inarticulate yelling before Tenko screams, “You... Die!!” It helps get across Tenko’s rage overflowing, to have that wordless garble before he can actually wrap words around it. He was still having trouble talking, too, so it makes sense that his first vocalization would just be a long, incomprehensible screech. That said, with the music there to supplement the mood in a way the manga would lack, I don’t think the anime’s rendition of the scene suffered overmuch from its absence.

Framing Shifts

• The anime, of course, has always gone the dust route for Decay because Decay is a little too gruesome for family hour TV, and anyway, when Tomura gets as fast with Decay as he is in Deika, he really is just insta-dusting people, such that not even blood remains. But he wasn’t that fast or that thorough as a child, hence why it’s all so much gorier—and it needs to be, because it’s hard to imagine Hana freaking out like she does if all she sees is a pile of dust instead of, well, dog gobbets. (Also, if his family had gone the dust route, it would have been very hard to convince the audience that Tomura’s hands are his family hands and not fakes provided to AFO by Ujiko.)           This obviously put the anime in a difficult spot, but apparently the decision they settled on was—to not decide? Everyone we saw in the active process of decaying decayed into dust as usual, but then once they were done decaying, once that transition from person to ruin was complete, there were all these heaps of gore everywhere. It was a very strange and distracting inconsistency that hurt the scene much more than any of the nearly invisible cuts, and I hope the blu-rays will change it.

• Added Grandpa catching Grandma as she staggered at the sight of things in the yard. Since his body language in the manga (the only non-Decayed shot of him in the sequence) has him leaned more forward, like he’s still halfway through running towards the kids, I thought this was a nice little touch on why he stopped, for reasons other than just the obvious.

                                                         ---

Episode 111 was about half of a really strong episode. Most of my complaints about the Shimura Family flashback are very minor, and most of the ones that are less minor are still easy to overlook when the rest of the presentation was so strong. Unfortunately, the non-flashback half of the episode had as many problems as ever, and those aren't over yet.

Come back next time for Part Five, Episode 112: Origin: Shigaraki Tomura. Assuming my complaining about the finalized gutting of Spinner's arc doesn't get too out of hand—which it may; if so, I'll tack on one final part to wrap things up—I'll also be running down a quick overview of the Paranormal Liberation Front scenes in the Endeavor Agency arc and some various odds & ends.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Yes, I know the Skeptic Confronts Twice scene goes nowhere, but maybe, instead of deleting it, they could have patched it up by showing Skeptic turning away from the confrontation when the tower went down? You know, actually made an effort to improve on the material?

[2] Bakugou, of course, but also Inko, Kotarou, and, very prominently, even All Might. Deku circa MVA has an entire arc lying in wait for him about how much he’s internalized All Might’s paternalism re: having the strongest quirk.

[3] Indeed, as of the scene in the crater, he still hadn’t lost them at all! He had his prosthetic by the time of the speech, so I guess we’re meant to assume that Ujiko or some MLA doctor declared them past saving and amputated them. I hope I don’t need to tell you how unbelievably lame it is to have a shounen manga character sustain a permanent injury like that off-panel.

[4] It’s the pointy nose.

[5] That, at least, is the best way I’ve found to reconcile all the related-but-distinct values professed by the various members of the MLA brass, from Re-Destro’s focus on liberation and purpose, what exactly Trumpet chooses to cite when he’s talking about Spinner not “amounting” to anything much, Geten’s open extolling of quirk supremacy, and so on.

[6] In the first big double-page spread. Oddly, no bandaging is visible in the other panel that has a good shot of that hand, possibly because Horikoshi was more focused on drawing RD’s empty pant leg. The anime kept the obvious wound during the crater scene, but not the bandages during the speech.

[7] I assume, anyway, that Re-Destro only survives Shigaraki’s first touch because it’s a weaker Decay, coming as it does from only from two fingers rather than five.

[8] The fabled Marie Antoinette Syndrome. Never been scientifically documented as such (hair can whiten because of extreme stress, but not overnight) but it endures in fiction because it’s pleasingly dramatic. Trauma-based eye-color changes, not so much.